#tracking mud onto other people's posts

[lets-steal-an-archive]

it's been quite a day on twitter

[deedadobee]

Feathered Inconvenience (a tumblr x twitter fanfic)

i lost a bet, have at it kiddos!! posting chapter 2 when this hits 5K :]

~ chapter 1

Escaping to a forest after a midlife crisis wasn’t what Tumblr had on his to-do list, especially not after flunking his presentation. It’s not like his presentations were bad, they were excellent, he detailed what his company asked for and brought in ideas that filled their blanks. Another note, having his rival, Twitter, taking a trip away from the office made it easy for him to excel and succeed, it was all going perfectly. So, what was the issue?

Simple, he was bored, and it felt like shit. He loved his job, but it was getting boring, with the same circulation of events but in different fonts and colors. He needed inspiration, something that would bring fascination back into his vision. Tumblr’s back slid against a huge tree, speckles of light shining through the leaves and branches. He closed his eyes and begged his mind to be quiet.

“Maybe I just need to change the office theme again.” Tumblr told himself, crossing his arms while deep in thought.

The suited gent shook his head, rejecting his own idea and kept thinking. He always knew what to do, what to make out of an issue. He was great, that’s why some higher ups favored him. It was also the reason he stuck around for such a long time too. Tumblr loved his job, but this, being stuck due to the lack of anyone qualified to be in his place, is slowly crushing him.

Tumblr’s chest rose as he took a deep breath in. He needed an escape. No, he needed to stay. No, he needed…

What did he need?

Tumblr, with his head hanging in defeat, pushed himself off of the tree, squinting his eyes as he stepped away from the shade. He’s just going to go back to his apartment, and take a day off to really get himself far away from this rut. But a small noise stopped him in his tracks.

A bird chirped to itself on the ground, one of its wings appearing to be hurt. Tumblr simply tilted his head and walked to the feathered guy. He was a tall shadow to the bird, so it was normal of the bird to try and scramble away. Tumblr crouched down, and lent his arm out with his hand open, inviting the bird to just hop on.

“Not gonna hurt you, I promise.” Tumblr said calmly, a tinge of a tired smile appears. The man must’ve been really weary, because the bird really seemed to be considering his help.

After careful consideration, the bird hopped onto the palm of Tumblr’s hand, and flattened in a relaxed way. Tumblr hummed and stood back up, a hand hovering over the bird in case the sun was too bright for it.

“What’s wrong with your wings, lil guy?” Tumblr asked while slowly inspecting. He didn’t really expect a bird to understand or reply but it did; the bird’s beak pointed at its wing, crooked, ouch. While checking for any more injuries, Tumblr noticed the mud and leaves covering the bird’s exquisite light blue feathers. He admired it and smiled to himself. Blue was his favorite color, unironically.

“Good thing I caught you before any firefoxes did, huh?” Tumblr chuckled, as the bird shivered at the fact it could have already been eaten up.

Without any introductions or directions, Tumblr walked out of the forest, not only with a temporary distraction, but also a feathery friend. Yes, it wasn't the best answer to his crisis, but it was something to get his mind off of it. Maybe after helping this bird, his mind would clear up.

Unbeknownst to him, there was a group of people looking for the very thing he was determined to take care of.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tumblr dug around his pockets to look for keys to his apartment, all while still cupping the blue puff of feathers on his other hand. If anyone walked by him, they’d shoot a confused look. It’s not like this was the first time Tumblr brought home an animal, he almost brought a horse up once because it looked goofy.

The jingles of his keys echoed through the hall, Tumblr paid no mind, but the bird was shifting and peeking around at the tiniest of noises. “Chill, it’s just my keys.” Tumblr replied to his jittery feathered friend.

Entering the apartment, Tumblr flickered a lamp that was by the door, the once dark room was painted with a warm orange hue. His place was nice, packed with folders and papers, and a weirdly large amount of red yarn. Tumblr’s humble abode is catastrophically homey.

Tumblr threw his keys on the cluttered coffee table and flopped on the couch, and placed the small bird on his chest. He sighed and threw his head back, exhausted. This day was tiring, but he had a friend with him.

He could barely take care of himself, but he really was looking forward to nursing his new friend back to health. As he yawned, Tumblr grabbed a pillow and scooped the bird off of him and on the pillow. He patted his feathered friend on the head with his finger and stood up.

“I’m taking a nap, little guy, you better rest up too.” Tumblr’s voice faintly heard as he walked to his bedroom. Within minutes, Tumblr’s snores comically seeped out of the slight agar door of his room.

Tumblr was having a good nap, even in his work shirt and pants on, maybe this was what he needed, a nap, that was until he got woken up by the sound of folders falling. He sat up aggressively, fumbled around to get his trusty baseball bat on the floor. Tumblr’s mind was too tired to think of something intimidating to yell out to whoever was making the noise.

As he creeped to the door of his bedroom with the bat, Tumblr took a shaky breath in and peeked out. He swung the door open and raised his bat to aim, but froze in his place. He didn't expect much, maybe an intruder who wanted to steal his magic wand set or his valuable shoe laces.

What Tumblr saw before his eyes was the very reason he was doing great at work, the reason other people in his office were doing good; he saw Twitter in the middle of his clutter, looking as shocked as Tumblr was.

“What the absolute fuck…” Tumblr pointed the tip of the bat at Twitter, “...Is going on?��

[mania-sama]

was recently reading a hunger games au and got sad and thought about my old hunger games x jjk draft. and because i'm feeling sad, i'm going to post a passage from the first chapter of their reaping.

The Geisha pulls out the chosen slip agonizingly slowly. It gives Yuuji enough time to worry, to look around Megumi’s head, between the Peacekeepers, at Nobara. Her chin is held high and her shoulders are set. She stares daringly at the stage as if challenging it to pick her of all people.

Megumi grasps Itadori’s hand. His fingers are cold and his grip is deathly tight. It’s the same dance every year. Her pride sears through their chests.

Please, Yuuji begs, intertwining his fingers with Megumi’s. The comfort it provides is worth more than whatever implications the boys around him will make. Please don’t let it be her.

The Geisha gently opens the slip of paper. She smiles and reads: “Kugisaki Nobara.”

Everything comes into hyperfocus. Itadori can see the mud caking the edges of the stone town square, the soot in everyone’s hair, clothes, faces, and nails that simply won’t come out no matter how hard they scrub, the colorful Capitol banners that flutter in the wind and wealth in the face of the poorest district, and the breeze that pushes against the hairs on the back of his neck. Megumi’s hand goes limp and his breath hitches into a half-gasp, half-choke. Heads turn to find the girl that was reaped. The girls around her step away, as if Nobara has contracted a plague from becoming a tribute. 

Her luck has run out.

Nobody volunteers in her place. Of course they don’t. Nobody volunteers in the coal-mining district where half the population dies from starvation alone. Surviving is hard enough — winning the Culling Games is impossible.

She steps out of her row and doesn’t look back at her friends or her watching parents as she makes her way to the steps of the Capitol stage. She pushes away the Peacekeepers who try to corral her, wary of runaway attempts or violent outbursts. Her steps are as confident as her pride. 

When she stands next to the Geisha, she does not let her fear show. The Geisha has always made tributes look small and boring next to her power and color. Nobara does not appear small nor boring; she stands with a straight back, curled fists, and a perfectly stolid face staring dead-on at the cameras embedded into the wall parallel to the stage. It’s as if she’s challenging the other twenty-three tributes already, declaring her victory before she’s stepped a foot outside of her district.

It’s exactly as he imagined it over and over again this morning. He had hoped that his anxieties would remain just that: anxiety, a worry over something that could but will never happen.

He finds that it’s hard to breathe in the soot-infested air like he’s a Capitol citizen and not a boy raised by a grandfather and neighbors who worked in the mines his entire life. His gaze tracks the previous victors sitting in the back of the stage. Gojo's previous overjoyous malice has been replaced by a calculating head tilt. Okkotsu examines her just as closely, betraying very little in his expression.

They have to bring her home. They have to.

The Geisha gives Nobara a polite nod. His friend doesn’t turn to meet the gesture, doesn’t even spare a side-eye, a blatant show of disrespect that almost makes Itadori smile. Undeterred, the Geisha continues with the ceremony. “Now for the boys.”

Between the three of them, Megumi’s name is repeated the least amount of times. Being the ward of a famous victor, not just by district but by Capitol standards, means he has plenty of money and food. Tessera does not increase his chances of being picked. Itadori is twice as likely to be reaped, and he doesn’t even have any parents or siblings to care for. In comparison to the rest of the children, they are improbable tributes.

He holds onto this notion and Megumi’s hand tightly as the Geisha draws the slip from the bowl. She smiles, and his worst fear comes true.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

He can’t lose them both.

“I volunteer as tribute!” Itadori shouts not a half second later, raising his hand high into the air to make his position known. He does it before anyone can turn their heads to the chosen boy, before he can see Gojo’s face fall into preemptive mourning, and before Megumi can step out of the row to greet his fate.

Megumi grabs Yuuji’s shoulders and jostles him. His green eyes are wide open and wild, and his lips are curled back with anger. “You can’t be doing this to me,” he says disbelievingly. “Take it back. Take it back right now.”

“Oh,” the Geisha says, surprised. “We have a volunteer.”

If he keeps holding him like that, he’s going to leave bruises. Itadori brushes him off as firmly as he can. “Please get out of my way,” he demands quietly.

It takes everything in him to not break down under Megumi’s betrayed, hurt face. His resolve to save his friends is strong; the resolve to not outwardly show it is far weaker.

for reference gojo and yuuta are both previous victors. when i tell you i have this entire au still in my head, i DO. there is so much to this and i had so much and i just can never write it because im SLOW and bad at writing anything EVER

[otherkinnews]

Therian quadrobics popular for children in Finland; two schools ban animal masks

[This article was originally posted on the main blog for Otherkin News, on DreamWidth: https://otherkinnews.dreamwidth.org/94635.html Orion Scribner @frameacloud wrote it on September 14, 2024.]

In Finland, between May and September, newspapers published many articles on therianthropes. The papers are Iltalehti (Evening Newspaper), Ilta-Sanomat (The Evening News), Yle (Finnish Broadcasting Company), and MTV Uutiset (Commercial Television News, no relationship to the MTV channel in America).

These articles show a hobby popularized among children and teens on the social media app TikTok, where therians exercise on all fours (quadrobics), imitating animal movements. With practice, they can jump high and land on their hands, and other challenging feats. Therian quadrobicists hand-make and wear a certain style of upper-face animal masks to express themselves and protect their privacy on the informal video-sharing app. Some other common accessories are a tail made of yarn or fur, fastened to their belt. Some wear sneakers painted to look like paws, or take their shoes off while exercising. They practice making animal vocalizations. The therianthrope community is multi-generational and has existed since 1994, but this set of practices– quadrobics and masks– are a new development among the youngest generation of therians. While some of these young self-described therians say that being an animal is an integral part of who they are, some others firmly say they don’t, and simply enjoy it as a creative hobby, which is another difference from previous generations of therians.

Therian children who express themselves in these ways have been becoming visible in some schools in Finland. Although this hasn’t been a big problem, school officials have started setting boundaries about it to make sure that class won’t be disrupted by students wearing masks or making animal noises. Students need to wear shoes outdoors and take them off inside the school, which means that kids who take off their shoes to play outside will track mud onto the floors, and dirty other children's socks. Before this school year started, the principals of the schools in the cities of Oulu and Joensuu sent messages to parents banning students from these behaviors in class, along with other sorts of costumes and toys. This brought public attention to therians. In the past couple of weeks, the newspapers followed up on that by interviewing teen therians, parents, public figures, locals, and child welfare experts. Aside from a few opinion pieces and some reasonable concerns, nearly all of these express a positive attitude toward therians and give accurate information about what they are. This shows that young quadrobicists have been successful at building a good image for therians, because parents and others who work with children like it when kids do crafts and play outside together.

I don’t know Finnish, so I’m having to access these articles with the help of machine translation. That’s not a proper translation. One challenge I’m aware of is that Finnish doesn’t have the words he or she, so the machine translation alternates between them arbitrarily, with no clue of what would be correct for that person in English. In the following annotated bibliography of the articles, I’ll do my best to figure out a probably correct translation of their titles and give a summary, but be aware that nuances may be confused or lost.

Finnish news articles from earlier this year, before the ban:

Maria Aarnio (May 29, 2024). “‘Käsite oli meille aikuisille aivan uusi’ – millainen ilmiö on nuorten keskuudessa suosittu therian?” (‘The concept was completely new to us adults’ – what kind of therian fad is popular among young people?) MTV Uutiset.https://www.mtvuutiset.fi/artikkeli/kasite-oli-meille-aikuisille-aivan-uusi-millainen-ilmio-on-nuorten-keskuudessa-suosittu-therian/8941648#gs.e0lnr6 Archived September 7, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240907063037/https://www.mtvuutiset.fi/artikkeli/kasite-oli-meille-aikuisille-aivan-uusi-millainen-ilmio-on-nuorten-keskuudessa-suosittu-therian/8941648#gs.e0lnr6

This describes therianthropy and quadrobics, and what parents need to know if their children are interested in them. The article also mentions the word otherhearted.

Samppa Rautio (June 16, 2024; republished on September 5, 2024 in response to the therian ban in schools). “Karhuna ihmiskehossa.” (A bear in a human body.) Ilta-Sanomat.https://www.is.fi/kotimaa/art-2000010677056.html Archived September 10, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240910233804/https://www.is.fi/kotimaa/art-2000010677056.html

This is an interview with a bear therian, age 34. Although the article shows many photos of this person, all have a bear mask on, and it changes the bear’s name to Karoliina for privacy reasons. The bear accurately summarizes many features of therianthropy. The article has remarks about therians from Rasmus Mannerström, Senior Lecturer in Social Psychology at the University of Helsinki, and Michael Bond, author of Fans: A Journey into the Psychology of Belonging. The article also cites a survey of therian mental health, run by Helen Clegg, Rosalyn M Collings, and Elizabeth C Roxburgh. In 2019, the piece by Clegg et al had been published as “Therianthropy: wellbeing, schizotypy, and autism in individuals who self-identify as non-human.” I think it might be partly thanks to this bear and this thoughtful journalist that the later news coverage of therians was well informed and positive.

Finnish news articles from after the ban, in chronological order:

Maija Kansanen (August 20, 2024). “Lapset puhuvat kouluissa kieltä, jota aikuisen voi olla vaikea ymmärtää – Tässä ovat tämän hetken trendit.” (Children speak language in schools that can be difficult for an adult to understand – Here are the trends of the moment.) Helsingen Sanomat.https://www.hs.fi/suomi/art-2000010633508.html Archived September 7, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240907102344/https://www.hs.fi/suomi/art-2000010633508.html

The other articles say this is the first article that reported the ban. The article itself is behind a paywall.

Emilia Saukkonen (August 21, 2024). “Therian-maskit pannaan: Karsikon koulussa oppilaat eivät saa enää käyttää naamioita.” (Therian masks are banned: Students at Karsikko School are no longer allowed to wear masks.) Yle. https://yle.fi/a/74-20106426 Archived September 11, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240911004645/https://yle.fi/a/74-20106426

This article talks about the ban at the school in Oulu. It also summarizes the earlier article that interviewed the bear therian. The school principal says that youth fads come and go, and has no opinion of it as being good or bad. The school can make an exception to the ban if the student welfare staff decides it's important to a child's psychological health.

Jussi Korhonen (September 3, 2024). "Lehdet: Lapset ovat alkaneet identifioitua eläimiksi – Kouluissa aloitettu toimet." (Magazines: Children have started to identify as animals – Actions started in schools.) Iltalehti.https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/1674616c-7c65-4c9f-a56b-810197927309 Archived September 9, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240909091227/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/1674616c-7c65-4c9f-a56b-810197927309

This talks about the ban at both schools.

Jessica Helaskoski and Catherine Kähkönen (September 3, 2024). “Joensuulaiskoulu kielsi eläimiksi identifioituvien lasten naamiot – therian-ilmiö aiheuttanut ongelmia myös muissa kouluissa.” MTV Uutiset.https://www.mtvuutiset.fi/artikkeli/joensuulaiskoulu-kielsi-elaimiksi-identifioituvien-lasten-naamiot-therian-ilmio-aiheuttanut-ongelmia-myos-muissa-kouluissa/9000934

This talks about the ban at both schools. The school in Joenssu explained that their reason for the ban is that they need to be able to tell who's who, and anyone could be behind an animal mask, so those can't be allowed in class or at recess. The school in Oulu said that their own reason for the ban was that children had brought their play behavior in from recess and misbehaved in class. However, in all these articles about the ban in the Oulu school, it looks unclear to me whether they mean that this had really happened at their own school, or if they had only heard that it was happening at other schools in general.

Samppa Rautio (September 3, 2024). “Oululaiskoulu kieltää therianit – rehtori sai tarpeekseen: ‘Tunnillakin konttaillaan ja mau’utaan.’” (Oulu school bans therians – the principal had enough: ‘Even in class they growl and meow.’) Ilta-Sanomat.https://www.is.fi/perhe/art-2000010670861.html Archived September 9, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240909102458/https://www.is.fi/perhe/art-2000010670861.html

Riku Isokoski (September 4, 2024). “Hämmentävä ilmiö voimistuu lasten keskuudessa – Asiantuntija kertoo, miksi he matkivat eläimiä.” (Confusing phenomenon intensification among children – Expert explains why they mimic animals.) Iltalehti.https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/d561f1f2-b045-4bf9-9035-661b6ce2e61a Archived September 5, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240905015447/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/d561f1f2-b045-4bf9-9035-661b6ce2e61a

Kaisa Önlen from the Mannerheim League for Child Welfare explains that therianthropy is deeper than a hobby, so will turn out to be a permanent part of the identity for some teens, whereas for some teens, it’s just something they’re trying out for fun. Children need to be allowed to experiment and play to discover who they are in the world.

Jasmin Levo (September 4, 2024). “Näkökulma: Kuinka pitkälle opettajien pitää vielä venyä? Therian-ilmiö on vain jäävuorenhuippu.” (Viewpoint: How far do teachers need to go? The therian phenomenon is just a tip to the iceberg.) Iltalehti.https://www.iltalehti.fi/perheartikkelit/a/f9527a79-095c-4547-8d75-c532f29e6e93 Archived September 9, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240909145615/https://www.iltalehti.fi/perheartikkelit/a/f9527a79-095c-4547-8d75-c532f29e6e93

An opinion article about how children who want to make animal noises in class are only one of many sorts of disruptive behavior in children’s classrooms, comparing this with cell phone use.

Samppa Rautio (September 4, 2024). “Nyt puhuu therianin äiti.” (Now talking to therian's mother.) Ilta-Sanomat.https://www.is.fi/perhe/art-2000010674287.html Archived September 11, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240911041011/https://www.is.fi/perhe/art-2000010674287.html

An interview with a mother about how the ban saddened her child to the point of asking to switch to a nearby school where it wasn’t banned. That mother saw the therian children have a healthy and positive experience together. She was concerned that the schools limit children’s freedom of expression too much, and might start banning nonconformist fashion styles too, such as goths. In contrast, another mother supported the ban. She had seen that her own child’s curiosity about therians had led to places on the internet that weren’t appropriate for children. The child had encountered an adult online with sexual content, and had planned to go to an adult therian meet-up. The mother grounded her child from social media. Her child had also gotten very sore from practicing quadrobics, but not injured.

Lilja Hannila (September 5, 2024). "Näin opettaja saa keskeyttää therianin ”kiisuilun” ilman, että syyllistyy laittomuuksiin: Juristi arvioi Wilma-jyrähdystä." (This allows the teacher to ban therian 'masking' without committing any illegalities: A lawyer will assess the Wilma message.) Iltalehti. https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/46005c9f-b27f-496b-b819-25de3100c47c Archived September 10, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240910091006/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/46005c9f-b27f-496b-b819-25de3100c47c

It was controversial for the schools to ban masks, because that's a dress code. A lawyer at the Finnish National Board of Education, Laura Francke, explains about school dress codes in general.

Leo Jaakkonen. (September 5, 2024). “Eläinmaskit hämmentävät kouluissa – nyt puhuvat therian-lapset.” (Animal masks confuse schools – now talking about therian children.) MTV Uutiset.https://www.mtvuutiset.fi/artikkeli/elainmaskit-hammentavat-kouluissa-nyt-puhuvat-therian-lapset/9002214

Leo Kirjonen (September 5, 2024). "Paulan 11-vuotias lapsi kuvittelee olevansa kettu: Äiti järkyttyi, kun therian-ilmiö kiellettiin Oulussa." (Paula's 11-year-old child thinks he's a fox: Mother shocked when therian phenomenon was banned in Oulu.) Iltalehti.https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/5b167c83-51d6-45e0-b1fb-008089d45e8d Archived September 7, 2024. https://web.archive.org/web/20240907083332/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/5b167c83-51d6-45e0-b1fb-008089d45e8d

Jere Silfsten (September 5, 2024). “Therian-huuma näkyy kaupassa – eläinmaskit viedään nyt käsistä.” (Therian masks are now sold in the store – animal masks are getting carried away.) MTV Uutiset.https://www.mtvuutiset.fi/artikkeli/therian-huuma-nakyy-kaupassa-elainmaskit-viedaan-nyt-kasista/9002094 Archived: https://web.archive.org/web/20240912185250/https://www.mtvuutiset.fi/artikkeli/therian-huuma-nakyy-kaupassa-elainmaskit-viedaan-nyt-kasista/9002094

In the capital city Helsinki, the craft store Sirpa Saviluoto talks about therian animal masks. The store started selling them less than a year ago. The owner hadn't heard of therians before then, but has been learning from parents. Most buyers are primary school children. The store only sells blank masks, not ready-made ones or tails. The owner believes it's important for children to do crafts and make their masks and tails for themselves. The ban brought publicity and now the masks are selling faster than they can keep them in stock.

Heidi Asplund (September 6, 2024). “Kommentti: Aikuiset sekosivat lasten eläinmaskeista – hävetkää!” (Commentary: Adults ban children’s animal masks– shame!) MTV Uutiset.https://www.mtvuutiset.fi/artikkeli/kommentti-aikuiset-sekosivat-lasten-elainmaskeista-havetkaa/9002926

Anna Hopi and Riia Pakkanen (September 6, 2024). “Supernanny Pia Penttalan suorat sanat therian-ilmiöstä: ‘Pitäisi alkaa hätäkellot soimaan.’” (Supernanny Pia Penttala’s direct words about therian phenomenon: ‘There should be an emergency bell ringing.’) https://www.iltalehti.fi/viihdeuutiset/a/feee8339-324e-4787-9be2-0b696ab0d162 Archived September 7, 2024. https://web.archive.org/web/20240907014441/https://www.iltalehti.fi/viihdeuutiset/a/feee8339-324e-4787-9be2-0b696ab0d162

This article interviews several TV celebrities on what they think parents should do if their children say they are therians. These opinions are not well informed about what therians are. They tend toward conjecture about bizarre and unlikely scenarios that haven’t happened.

Mikael Kaivanto (September 6, 2024). “Fazer-kahvilassa viittaus therianeihin? Näin toimitusjohtaja kommentoi.” (In Fazer Cafe, reference to therians? Here's how the CEO commented.) https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/4a80fb39-18e7-4d24-8b31-1b78e367cf61 Archived September 7, 2024. https://web.archive.org/web/20240907013741/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/4a80fb39-18e7-4d24-8b31-1b78e367cf61

At a certain café in Helsinki, the figures on the restroom signs have animal ears. The CEO explained that the signs have been like this for a long time. It's part of their branding. Despite rumors, it’s not a reference to the recently fashionable hobby.

Mari Kononen (September 6, 2024). “Joensuulais­koulu kielsi therian­maskit.” (Joensuu school bans therian masks.) Ilta-Sanomat.https://www.is.fi/kotimaa/art-2000010681609.html Archived September 11, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240911091135/https://www.is.fi/kotimaa/art-2000010681609.html

The principal of that school explains his reasoning for the ban is that students' faces need to be visible, during recess, too.

Samppa Rautio (September 6, 2024). “Therian-raivo järkyttää – ‘Elämme ihan outoa aikaa.’” (Therian fad shocks: ‘We are living in a strange time.’) Ilta-Sanomat.https://www.is.fi/perhe/art-2000010679079.html Archived September 11, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240911073437/https://www.is.fi/perhe/art-2000010679079.html

The Ombudsman for Children, Elina Pekkarinen, looks at the hostile attitudes that adults have toward therian children. The Ombudsman explains that adults are often annoyed and scandalized by youth and youth fads, because adults want children to conform. She is disgusted at adults who have left comments on the internet saying that the children should be hunted like animals. It’s these adults who she calls strange, because it's terrible for adults to talk about children that way. She describes the therian hobby with approval.

Perrtu Kaupinen (September 7, 2024). "Pääkirjoitus: Lasten pitää saada leikkiä eläimiä, mutta leikkiä on vaarallista kutsua identiteetiksi." (Editorial: Children need to play animals, but it's dangerous to call play an identity.) Iltalehti. https://www.iltalehti.fi/paakirjoitus/a/8cc904b7-1c2c-461b-b9e3-c27313d0c740 Archived September 7, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240907013819/https://www.iltalehti.fi/paakirjoitus/a/8cc904b7-1c2c-461b-b9e3-c27313d0c740

This opinion article says that although the hobby itself is all right, it is disruptive if children try to continue animal behavior during class, and that calling therianthropy an identity makes a joke of the serious issue of gender identity.

Leo Kirjonen (September 7, 2024). "Rehtorit linjaavat therian-oppilaista: 'Emme me ole täällä eläiminä.'" (Principals say of Therian students: 'We are not here as animals.') https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/0d1ee0ed-e26f-4ae7-a3a6-129d6bfdf041 Archived September 7, 2024. https://web.archive.org/web/20240907013152/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/0d1ee0ed-e26f-4ae7-a3a6-129d6bfdf041

The newspaper asked the officials of schools in different parts of Finland to find out if therian hobbyists were really so widespread as believed. Several schools had no sign of it or hadn't heard of it. All of them agreed that it sounded like a healthy activity for children, as long as the masks aren't scary to other younger children.

Heini Kilpamäki (September 7, 2024). "Seiko, 15, on therian – Nyt hänellä on painavaa sanottavaa trendi-ilmiöstä." (Seiko, 15, on therians – Now they speak up about trending.) Iltalehti. https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/9f9616a8-9886-4540-9302-9b63caf8fb42 Archived September 10, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240910051442/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/9f9616a8-9886-4540-9302-9b63caf8fb42

This article interviews a teen therian– only by the nickname Seiko, to protect the child’s privacy– and the child’s parent, who explain about what it really means to be a therian and an alterhuman, using those words, and how it’s different from being a furry, and more than a fad or hobby.

Samppa Rautio (September 9, 2024). “Kommentti: Therian-ilmiössä on kyse yksin­kertaisesta, mutta tärkeästä asiasta.” (Commentary: Therian fad is a simple but important issue.) Ilta-Sanomat.https://www.is.fi/kotimaa/art-2000010685958.html

An editor of the newspaper gives the opinion that it’s okay for children to use animal play to combat loneliness and find out who they are. The editor points out that adult therians are as able to behave themselves and speak normally as any other adult.

Heini Kilpamäki (September 11, 2024). “Lapset: Pilalla – Tässä 7 syytä.” Iltalehti.https://www.iltalehti.fi/perheartikkelit/a/aa1b3e49-7a6e-4a1f-a1a3-b47a5e87a3f4

This humor article reminds its readers that therians and TikTok aren’t the first fads that adults said were inappropriate for young students. It gives some familiar examples from previous decades, such as people who had thought Elvis danced in a much too scandalous way.

Sanna Ukkola (September 12, 2024). “Kolumni: Apua, lapseni on susi – Nyt hän vaatii raakaa lihaa kouluruoaksi, mitä teen?” (Column: Help, my child is a wolf – Now he wants raw meat for school food, what do I do?) Iltalehti. https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/29d8700f-9d9a-42df-9b23-ae04e7aada82 Archived September 14, 2024: https://web.archive.org/web/20240914005855/https://www.iltalehti.fi/kotimaa/a/29d8700f-9d9a-42df-9b23-ae04e7aada82

A mean-spirited satirical opinion piece describing bizarre scenarios that have not happened. Despite the title, this is not about someone's own child, and children haven’t been asking for raw meat in school.

[motorhearted]

CHAPTER ONE.

CW: depictions + descriptions of car crashes, character death, and object destruction.

{ LAST. — NEXT. }

September 12th, 199X.

All was quiet in the prairies. Rough yellow grass shifted in a gentle breeze and crickets chittered to each other from the depths. Fireflies rolled with the waves of the hills, mimicking the glimmering stars above in the deep dark skies.

Besides the occasional farm within the miles and miles of grass sat an abandoned racing arena. Its rotted wood perimeter and barbed wire fence stood like castle walls against a spacious dirt track.

The recently-wetted ground glimmered against the sickly moonlight. Shadowy figures shifted in the grandstands. The prairies held their breath. Then the track’s fluorescent lamp posts flickered on, one by one.

A low rumbling filled the air as many machines asynchronously switched on. They were followed by the shouting of many more barking voices. In the middle of it all, the lights shone down on thirteen cars of various sizes parked in a circle, back-to-back.

People waved their arms and cheered on, louder and louder. A man in a stetson strolled out onto the edge of the dirt. He took something heavy out of his pocket and aimed it towards the barely-visible skies.

A gunshot.

A cloud of dust, a shower of mud, the scream of modified engines. Sparks flew, accompanied by the thunderous crunch of metal-against-metal. Exhaust pipes coughed out billowing black smoke, choking the arena with the smells of gasoline and diesel.

The cars were now darting around the track as the vultures in the grandstands looked on; dodging, swerving, diving into each other with crashes that could surely sever a limb. They would sit for a moment, coolant dribbling onto the ground, before yanking themselves away and hobbling off to a new target. Ends crumpled in and tires were worn down to the rim with no flesh behind the wheel.

Among these warring vehicles was a tattered muscle car. His paint was a rough, matted black that once shone and glittered emerald in the light, now making him a mere shadow against the ground. Long, capped exhaust pipes jutted directly from his engine, spewing out fumes whenever he moved. His doors were painted over with a repulsive white, finished off with a crooked 20 on each side.

Despite his size, he maneuvered through the chaos with ease. Thick mud caked his wheels as he veered about, dodging crashes by mere seconds. He reared himself at others, pushing through tangles of metal and smoking corpses. Any car that gave chase was destined to be crushed before they reached him.

Still, many tried with nonsensical determination.

The muscle car was numb to the crunching, popping, squealing of mechanical parts. When others rammed against his sides, he barely winced. He couldn’t recall how many crashes he’d been in if he tried. His rear end was pushed inwards and up; a pickup truck had done the deed last season.

He swerved onto the outskirts of the track and paused, ever so briefly; an attempt to make something of his surroundings. The mixture of dust and smoke under blinding lights obscured most things, though he eyed the flitting shadows behind the haze carefully. It wasn’t long before a yellow sedan shot out of the chaos and spotted him, revving its engine and charging full speed. He waited until the last moment to dodge. The sedan yelled and collided with a concrete barrier.

Number 20 didn’t wait to see it slowly pull away, grill and headlights shattered, as he was already being chased by another— someone who was about his size. Without further hesitation he jumped back into the fray. He nearly hit someone else, small and blue, missing two tires and trapped in the mud. He dodged and continued on.

Then there was a loud crunch behind him, and the engine of same-size ceased to roar.

Dodge. Dodge. Shift. Reverse. Dodge.

That’s when he saw her.

Full speed ahead. Brake. Reverse. Dodge.

A rosy-red van with colorful stripes.

Shift. Dodge.

Number 13.

A rather new contestant, but an otherwise worthy rival. She was busy plowing a small vehicle into a tangle of several, stuck together by bumpers torn from their frames. Most were still moving, pushing and pulling away with little luck.

A screech tore through the air.

A ragged truck rammed into his side.

It began to push him along, closer to a frenzied fight breaking out in the middle of the track. The muscle car pressed on his brakes. The truck snarled on.

He was dragged a considerable few feet before someone clipped the truck’s bed. Furious, it dislodged and gave chase. Both of them were trampled.

Number 20 began to move away again when the rosy van sped past him, splattering him with a fresh coat of mud and oil. She braked and whirled around to face him. Their headlights met.

In that moment, he finally felt something. And that something was dread.

Her front bumper turned up in a murderous grin.

He fled.

Everyone around him danced in violent tangos. The muscle car rocketed across the track once more. He turned left.

Then right. Then left again.

Right.

Left.

A green mass of metal flew by, inches from his grille, and then there was an opening. He zipped through the heat. He left the clusters of battles behind, slowing only when he noticed that Number 13 was nowhere in sight.

But there was no such thing as a moment of peace. In an instant he was rocked by a vehicle going past and scraping his side. He honked in surprise. The other began to circle, slowly.

There was Number 13.

She prowled around Number 20 like a hungry tiger, revving her engine. Her small headlights were full of fury. He revved his engine in return, coughing out exhaust. He steadily met her gaze.

The two large vehicles facing off in the very corner of the track commanded the attention of onlookers. The vultures began to chant. The sorrowful engines elsewhere seemingly faded away.

Number 13 smiled again, confidently.

Number 20 sat emotionless.

She was going to charge.

Slam.

Working on something akin to instinct, Number 20 barely realized he had moved. He had collided with her side with such force that it sent the van flying backwards. She spun. She desperately reached for the ground with her wheels. She tipped and finally hit the cement barrier.

Number 20’s engine buzzed. His vision was full of static.

When it finally cleared, he shook himself and glanced up at Number 13. She wasn’t moving. No one was moving.

She was violently dented in, her frame sagging against her undercarriage. A light trail of smoke was forming in the air.

And then she erupted into flame.

Seconds dragged on like hours before a few men lumbered over with buckets of water and fire extinguishers. The inferno lapped desperately at the skies. The grandstands fell silent. So did the cars.

A few more seconds, and the fire was gone. Smoke billowed from the scene, and when it cleared, all that was left of the van was a shriveled, blackened mass.

The grandstands exploded with cheers.

Number 20 felt nothing.

“You… killed her.”

The muscle car had been sitting in the same place, staring into the nothingness. He hadn’t heard the arguing at the gate or the sound of another car approaching. When he turned to look, he was met with the devastated gaze of a little orange car.

She was probably one of the smallest demolition cars he’d ever seen. The dark accents on her sides shone bright among minimal scratches and dents; she had only been in a few derbies, and was a contestant that was quickly mended afterwards every night.

It was odd to see her alone. The coupe never seemed like one that wanted to stand out to Number 20. Whenever he saw her, she was hiding behind someone.

He tensed.

That someone was Number 13.

“You killed her!” Her voice rose as she stared deep into Number 20’s headlights. She was full of a sorrow he didn’t know a car could be capable of; it shook her body as she approached.

Number 20 said nothing.

“I saw it… I-I saw it all! You killed her! You killed Lilly!”

Anger blazed in her rectangular headlights. She was quickening her pace towards the much larger vehicle until he found himself backed against the fence. His engine raced.

Still, he said nothing.

The orange coupe in front of him looked ready to shatter into pieces, as if her emotions were just too big. She looked around wildly, desperately, before backing away and raising herself above her wheels.

“A monster like you deserves the same fate.”

And with that, she sped towards him.

She was fast, though Number 20 moved in tandem. She stopped in her tracks, seemingly surprised by the action, and the muscle car fled. She cursed under her breath and gave chase.

Number 20 went as fast as he could, swerving through the maze of frozen cars left on the track. He was precise as ever, though his engine continued to buzz. His thoughts felt choked by cotton. He zig-zagged in the metal and mud, refusing to slow.

He hadn’t noticed that the sound of the vehicle behind him was becoming increasingly distant. The grandstands jeered on. It was too late when the orange coupe came barrelling towards him, cutting through the middle of the track. She hurled herself with a force that was rather remarkable, albeit useless.

Number 20 merely stumbled and slammed his brakes, but a loud crunch told him something else had happened to his competitor.

He gathered himself and turned back around. The sight he was met with made the buzzing fill his whole body. The couple’s grille was dented inwards, her hood crinkled up like tin. Her wheels shook dangerously. She was panting.

Number 20 slowly approached, forcing words out of his machinery.

“Stop this, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

The coupe paused, as if to consider his words, then her expression shot back to anger.

“I refuse.”

Number 20 blinked his headlight covers. With a grimace he pulled away, a dark trail of exhaust hanging in the air in front of him. The coupe revved her engine, murder reflected in her gaze.

She stood her ground. Number 20’s engine roared, warning her, and she barely flinched.

“I’m sorry,” is all he said.

He flew forward again, aiming head-on.

She was a statue.

Headlights shut, he swerved last minute.

Crunch.

He tore through her fender. Parts soared through the air and clattered lifelessly to the ground. She barely screamed. The grandstands erupted into howling cheers. He could barely hear it.

Number 20 reversed, carefully dislodging himself from the coupe’s broken body. When observing his work, he was overcome with a jolt of surprise… and regret. The lights bordering the track had gone off except for those directly above; they shone down like sinister spotlights.

The orange coupe could barely stand on her tires. She was shaking, even more than before, and gasping, sobbing. Small parts from her engine were scattered in the mud. Translucent liquid trickled out from the gaping space where her fender had been. Her left headlight, resting between them, glinted against the darkness.

Number 20 looked numbly into her remaining headlight. An invisible weight suffocated his engine. The crowd was still cheering.

“If you… if you think you can fix this, you’re more of an idiot than I originally thought,” the coupe’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I…” he tried.

“You know what you did.”

He looked away.

“I do.”

“You do. And you’ll pay for it.”

The match was over.

Horns wailed from the sidelines. Men came in to clear the track.

“It looks like we have a winner!” a voice boomed over the grandstand speakers. “Number 20, our undefeated champion!”

The orange coupe hobbled off. The large muscle car stayed completely still, blankly watching the torn up hunks of metal get dragged off the track by human and vehicle alike.

It wasn’t until the track was completely deserted that he climbed out of his thoughtless haze. Looking around, he noticed that the coupe’s wreckage was still there, including her headlight. He inched closer to observe his reflection in the glassy moonlight. The surface was cracked and crumbling.

The undefeated champion had made it through another night. He looked up and into the darkness surrounding him, past the grandstands and the fences. The night was still. Little yellow lights flickered along the hills.

“I’m so sorry.”

[tortoiseguy]

So I've made a post about how the Hunter's Guild from Monster Hunter should be the series's antagonist that got a bit of traction. So I figured I'd write up a rundown of how this could look in a story for the mainline series.

So the setup is this:

In the past couple of years, the population of Monoblos have been slowly decreasing due to a mixture of poaching and over hunting due to their cultural significance as a right of passage for new hunters. They were rare before but not to the degree that entire generations of desert dwelling people have never seen one in the flesh. The Guild has thus far not addressed this rapid decline, and have made no plans to attempt at conserving them either. And every time someone comes forward with a proposal for a conservation effort it's declined with the excuse of limited resources, or lack of evidence, and even sometimes with no reasoning at all.

You the player, a new and upcoming hunter, are hired as an escort alongside a few other hunters to guide the cart of a passionate researcher couple to a nearby desert town. These two are researching the increasing decline of Monoblos and are gathering evidence to build a case for the guild to begin a conservation effort. They had heard of sightings of a large flying Wyvern with a crimson horn a few towns over and began their truck there.

On the way there, there's a boulder blocking the road. Upon going up to inspect it alongside one of the other hunters present you both note distinct scratch marks and massive horn shaped holes pierced into it. Immediately the researchers jump up and go to inspect themselves and then dart off in a direction to find more tracks. After following the for a bit you discover a small but healthy herd of Monoblos all living in this secluded and out of the way grassland. Immediately the researchers send for the guild to get funding for a conservation effort and, with no real argument against, it's accepted reluctantly. The funding is limited and very restrictive, but it's something! The Guild agrees to fund the conservation effort under the condition that there be a guild official present to supervise the operation and that if there's any violations of Guild guidelines, or accidents involving major property damage that it would be shut down.

And the the game would go one like a normal monster hunter game! You'd help around the village, hunt a few monsters to secure areas or get materials for tools all alongside the Hunter's and researchers you came here with. Every mission is this big victory and everyone's super excited at new discoveries. The guild official is being a real stick in the mud the whole game as is this one rich merchant in town who isn't super jazzed about these dirty hunters muddying up their vacation and closing one or two of their trade routes for their silly conservation effort.

But it's going really well! The groups learning all sorts of stuff and getting closer with one another and building this sort of found family thing. You learn at some point the herd is actually comprised pretty much entirely of females taking care of their young and begin searching for a nearby male to maybe keep track of. And you find one! A white Monoblos male! Heck! The guild official is even getting on board and being won over by all this infectious optimism!

And then something goes wrong. While on a quest to capture and get scent trackers onto the male Monoblos, it escapes the trap before you can use the tranq bombs and one of the hunters is gravely injured and you see it run into a few carts while fleeing away. Obviously the Guild official finds out and now there's this moment where you don't know what's going to happen. Throughout the entire story they're grumpy demeanor and pessimism had been slowly chipped away at to the point that they've become friends with the team and villagers. They've even grown attached to the Monoblos and is fully bought into saving them from extinction.

Will they tell the guild? Shut down the whole operation?

A day passes and nothing happens. Everyone's overjoyed! We can continue the conservation! You go out to run a quick errand and when you return there are guild knights everywhere. Funding is being pulled left and right, everything you've worked for is being confiscated or destroyed and their calling for this aggressive white monoblos' head. Everyone on the team is discharged and told to go back to the nearest guild city. You find out that the guild representative wasn't the one who actually told them and that they were actually fired. The culprit who informed the Guild was instead the grumpy rich merchant because the carts destroyed were theirs. They were still running their trade in secret and illegally.

The games sort of final quest would be an off the books repel quest where you, with the help of the now ex Guild worker, go behind the Guild's back to redirect the Monoblos away from the village before they have a chance to kill it.

The game could end a few ways. Like the guild learning of the merchant's illegal trading and arresting them and the conservation effort receiving the funding they need. Or it could end with the White Monoblos reuniting with the back and relocating away from civilization. Etc etc.

This is what I mean when I say they should antagonize the guild. I'm not asking for a grandiose story about the guild's corruption that paints us as the bad guys or paints hunting as this immoral thing that's solved by the end of the game. I just want small scale stories that play with the themes of environmentalism and colonialism that Monster Hunter has baked into its very core. I want character driven narratives that are about people and how they can achieve amazing things through cooperation.

And this is just one of them! They could do stories involving the tribe of Anjanath worshippers and mirror real life colonialism. They could do one where two central characters have completely different ideals about hunting and how that fractures their relationship. There are so many possibilities for multiple different games! You could even have recurring characters with arcs that span across multiple entries! Do it Capcom! Please!

[ratherlimey]

The Personal Case of Detective Heizou: (4.14.2023 titled edit) Pt. 2: (I posted it but I made him sooo ooc so i deleted and am rewriting for the 4th time -_- wahhh) As a detective, it was very important for Heizou to be attentive to his surroundings. So when Heizou noticed displacements and missing things in his house, he was no doubt already envisioning the culprit. Could it be a mouse? No-the objects were almost completely put back the way they were. Sure somehow a mouse could do that by coincidence but Heizou seriously doubted that theory.

But then again, as a detective-he had to be mindful of all possible conclusions. No doubt a person had been breaking into his house everyday while he investigated other matters. But yet, each day he only noticed tiny bits of food missing, which make sense if the true culprit was a mouse. But as time went on, Heizou noticed small little objects were been taken too. A single paper clip, small pieces of string next to a roll he'd never touched and a needle. Exactly what would a mouse need with all of these? Let alone a normal person?

If this supposed person was homeless and had to resort to stealing then he wondered how they managed to take such little food. Perhaps they went to other homes? But what would this person need with paper clips, string and a needle? It was possible they sew but out of all the people to steal from it's Heizou? It would be a much more reasonable approach to steal it from Ogura Mio she had all the necessary tools for sewing. She probably had so many she wouldn't even notice anything missing. Or if she caught you she'd be more than happy to share her sewing prowess with another.

But Heizou still couldn't fathom the idea of a person breaking into his house everyday. There were no mud tracks, no hair strands(-maybe the culprit was bald) , the windows were always shut perfectly-locked from the inside, and his door always looked untouched as the day before. Clearly the culprit was some kind of criminal professional mastermind.

Heizou was going to find out what was going on either way. Whoever this person was, he'd turn them into the Tenryou Commission and charge them with breaking and entering as well as theft.

Like any good detective, Heizou had several plans forming. But first, he had a small errand to take care of. Heizou made his way to the Tenryou Commission headquarters, stopping when he saw a familiar face. "Inoue-got a moment?"

The Doushin turned his head nodded as Heizou approached the man. "What can I help you with Shikanoin?"

"Nothing much, but do inform Madame Kujou Sara I'll be out for a few days." Heizou shrugged waving a hand around.

"Where will you be?-In case Madame Kujou asks."

"Tell her I didn't say-I don't need her on my case again."

Inoue nodded and Heizou gave a wave walking off back to his home.

Heizou's personal case: Find the Thief, now begun.

Heizou's first case of action was to open and close the door at the same time he would leave. But then he'll stay in house making minimal noise. Luckily he did bring a small stack of cases to work on incase he got too bored.

Heizou frowned, maybe the culprit knew he'd stay home so they didn't break in today. But to set things up for tomorrow, he placed a roll of string in his room as well as a small plate of dorayaki. Heizou crawled into his bed and stared at the ceiling. Yet, no sleep overcame him as he couldn't shake the infuriating feeling of an unsolved case. Specially one that took place right inside his home. Heizou couldn't even tell how long he'd laid awake.

Heizou picked up very quiet rustling. He vivified himself up slightly, eyes slowly opening. He turned his head to look at the plate of dorayaki. He squinted his eyes at the figure near the plate and his eyes widened. Just before the figure turn around, Heizou rolled over onto his other side eyes closed. He heard a tiny sigh of relief and tiny footsteps fading away.

Ah, so that was the culprit. A tiny person? But how exactly was that person tiny-an alchemic side effect perhaps? Perhaps Yayoi would be able to enlighten him on the possibilities. Or that Mondstat guy-Albedo was it?

Many thoughts crossed Heizou's mind exactly how would he turn a tiny person into the police station? Was this person even recognized as a citizen of Inazuma? Or a citizen of any nation in Teyvat? If not, charging them with crimes may not be as easy as he believed.

I'll make part 2 sooner or later ig- im just posting it since having a larger number of drafts irks me for whatever reason ahem aha

have a good day~~

[lets-steal-an-archive]

Hannibal S1-S3 scripts: Living Dead Guy is borked but direct links to the pdfs work fine (tumblr masterpost)

Good Omens: 1.01 'In the Beginning' (Third Draft tidy) [July 25, 2015] (archived link)

Supernatural: 15.18 'Despair' (Pink Collated) [March 5, 2020] (SupernaturalWiki)

Our Flag Means Death: Pilot (Second Draft) [April 15, 2020] (archived link)

the four horsemen of Queer Agony

[charlesandmartine]

Tuesday 28th February 2023

It was a short stay perhaps but we've had a great time on the cattle station with Dave and Kaylee. They were fantastic hosts and despite being incredibly busy were prepared to spend time with us to show how a station works day to day. Today we have had perhaps our longest journey yet. It was 485kms and due to take some 5 hrs so we quit our jobs as cattle station hands and hit the road. The first challenge was to get the Nissan off the station; a move of 3kms to the main highway along an extremely rough red dirt track constructed mainly of mud ruts and potholes. Now let me make it clear to anyone choosing to buy a Nissan X trail. This is an SUV but is definitely not an off road vehicle. We took it extremely slowly sometimes making good progress and other times thinking something important has just dropped off. Much scraping at times too. Anyway Rental cars are able to go places other cars cannot and before long we tumbled out onto the Warrego Highway A2 also named the Matilda Way and on our way to Longreach. Not tempted with chicken racing we pretty soon slipped past the Queensland's Outback Central West sign as we ploughed on North. Then once again we passed through the dingo fence. No-one seems to know which side the dingoes are supposed to be. I'm not too sure the average Dingo knows either. They have been seen both sides I'm told. The route took us through Augathella then Tambo where we stopped for a flat white and a short stroll. Very pleasing town which appeared to have a preoccupation with teddy bears and also boasted a very nice Dennis fire engine built in England but deemed unreliable so it was replaced! Next stop had to be lunch so we pushed on to Blackall. A different place entirely with strong roots with the newly emerging Labour party, somewhat given a push because in the late 1880s employers were dropping the rate paid for sheep shearing and upset about this shearers were clubbing together to do something about this. This was a proud sheep shearing area and on 20th October 1892 Jackie Howe won the World Champion Blade Shearer title for shearing 321 sheep in 7hrs 40mins. Not many people have done that! Also in this fair town was a thing called the Black Stump which is a blackened tree stump upon which early surveyors placed their theodolite on to calculate longitude and latitude readings which were used for mapping the area. Of course this was a replica because like many things in this country the original burnt down.

We continue on along Matilda to Barcaldine and then to our destination Longreach and the Staging Post Motel. We only just made it in time before the 5pm closure of reception. It really is rather nice. The rooms are constructed to look like stables with unashamed use of corrugated iron and oak timbers. Where would Australians be without corrugated iron! Copper piping and upturned buckets are rather eclectic design features. You'd need to see it I suppose but it kind of works. At least the air-conditioning works well, it's still 32 degrees outside at 9pm from a top of 38 degrees this afternoon.

Exciting day tomorrow as we push on to the most western point in our tour, Winton.

[crabussy]

heyyyy welcome, welcome!! I've been expecting you. You don't need to wipe your feet on the mat, mud tracks on the carpet adds some personality to the space!! Hang your coat on the weird fake taxidermy pronghorn. To your left, the dining room, currently occupied by 23 people (and not people) having a heated debate about whether chartreuse is green or yellow (its neither). Oh, and here on our right is a comprehensive list of my Things! Take a peek, I'll be waiting in the corridor with the mosaic floor.

post includes: info about me, hobbies, tags, sideblogs, DNI, disclaimers and explanations!

(this is going to be LLLLOOOOOONG. I love explaining!!)

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✦ Name: Robin to most, Rob to some, Thing to all (call me whatever!)

✦ Pronouns: I use he/him exclusively, NO they/them ever thank you! some cheeky it/its is always fun though go for it

✦ Age: 18. somehow an adult and a teen at the same time. save me

✦ Nationality: I am a Pākehā Kiwi

✦ Plurality: I am part of an OSDD-1B system alongside two dozen other headmates, some of the others have their own blogs set up which you can access via @menagerie-crew. they may post on my blog too, tagged with "_____ takeover" depending on who is in front. it is totally okay to request to chat with any of the others!! (I have discussed this with a therapist and a psychiatrist who both believe I am a system. I cannot get diagnosed for safety reasons. lalala)

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✦ Art:

@beastwhimsy - my art account! Please give it a look, thank you! My commissions are open.

@silly-pony-scribbles - an mlp art request blog I run with my bestest friend, sal!

✦ Tags:

silly tag: blorbos

sea tag: FISH. one of my special interests. coelacanth... kissing you

beast tag: ANIMALS. yet another thing I am full of love for

fren tag: any friend/moot related posts [: sometimes I forget!

art tag: art I am putting in my mouth right fucking now

music tag: music I am grating onto my pasta like parmesan cheese

insp: art inspiration

fave: what it says on the label [:

save: a tag full of posts I haven't looked at in about a year, oops

ultra fave: posts that make me roll around on the ground screaming

people tag: human people!!! I love us!!

mindfuckery tag: posts that violently rearrange my neurons

there tag: liminal spaces yayyy yayy

listen to my gibberish boy: my terrible words

important: usually PSAs and such!

mecore: posts that make me go YEAHHHHH. UH HUH.

robincore: posts that are like if I was images.....

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✦ Hobbies:

⋇ Camping, hiking, etc etc: I'm part of a scout group and have been camping ten gazillion times,, if I am not in a tent again soon I will surely perish. Put me in there NOW

⋇ Conservation/ecology: this is something I am most passionate about!!! I'm fascinated by ecosystems and do everything I can to contribute to positive change in conservation. I am especially passionate about Aotearoa's ecosystems!

⋇ Art: I draw ^_^ self explanatory !!! I specialize in character design!! redesigning characters is my love language.

⋇ Scaring myself shitless: I love horror... I will consume any horror related media although my favourite type of horror is unnerving stuff, not shock value stuff (although shock can be fun) if you have any good horror recs PLEASE I AM SO HUNGRY.

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✦ Interests:

⋇ animals!!! arthropods!!!! zoology/ecology! this is my special interest, has been for years, I could talk about it for hours [: NZ species/ecosystems especially! this is both a hobby and an interest rah rah

⋇ ADVENTURE TIME. HEEELP HELP ME HEELP HELP HELP. life giving magus I would do anything for you

⋇ mlp g3/g4 (currently VERY VERY gripped by The Horses. I love you ponies)

⋇ liminal spaces/old buildings (Don't mind me I just need to be in those places forever ?? and ever?)

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✦ DNI:

transmeds, terfs, pro-contact harmful paraphiliacs, syscourse blogs, autism speaks supporters, neonazis, zionists, racists, sexists etc. please stay off my page unless you're here to explore a different viewpoint and question your current views! thank you!

message me if you need any clarification on why I'm against any of these things, or if you're not sure what something on here means!! /g

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✦ Opinion on system origin discourse: read here!

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✦ Other:

I am autistic and experience chronic pain. Please keep this in mind when interacting with me! Tone indicators can be helpful, and I might sound a little off/dry due to pain sometimes, or I might not respond to asks for a long time due to low energy levels or forgetfulness. I promise I am always happy to talk!

anonymous asks and comments (unless you've been following me for over a week) are off because people kept using them to be needlessly unkind or to assume the worst of me. I've turned them on in the past only to have more people send me awful messages jam packed with pretty much every slur in the book. for that reason, they're off! sorry about that. (if you REALLY need to send me an anonymous message, you could make a temporary sideblog and DM me through it! I hope nobody takes advantage of this to be horrible. just be civil and block me if you dislike what I have to say please!)

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I see you finished reading my extensive list of Things!!! Lets continue with our tour- you haven't even seen the indoor crocodile pool yet. Did you bring any swimwear?

[katsukikitten]

Hello friends! Here is my contribution to the Bakugou Birthday Bash! The master link will be linked here ! Please enjoy my bit of an angsty fic! And all of the other art and works that are on the master list! Enjoy the big bakugou blow out and remember to leave a comment on your favorite pieces! Happy birthday ya shitty man! (Lowkey become 3d please)

Warning: he's 28 btw 😂 (my fic says so also)

It shouldn't be this fucking hard to get groceries and booze. It's a quick and easy errand. Everything already pre-ordered for an important birthday that just needed to be picked up. And yet here you were crying in your car trying to get it together before the attendant asked for the order name. Honestly you had texted out "I can't do this today. Sorry." Several times before deleting it, telling yourself not to hit send. But you would have to be having the worst mental day of your life wouldn't you? Today of all days, how fucking selfish of you.

Especially with the amount of time and effort you and Kirishima had put into this idea. Since New Year's actually, months and months of planning after the two of you had gotten shit faced at Denki and Mina's new years party, creating the brain child. All after bonding over switching patrol partners six months before, you had gotten Bakugou and he had gotten Ashido. Kirishima and yourself giggle over stupid things to the side of the party, people watching as you took shots. Kirishima points towards a normally grumpy blonde.

"Wow I think he's actually having fun." You snort, as you watch Bakugou hide his rare cat smile behind a sip of his beer as Mina makes Denki the butt of a joke.

"He actually loves parties. He never says it so people just think he's a wet blanket." Kirishima laughs, pouring the two of you another shot. Bakugou lets out a particularly loud laugh after 'Dunce Face' proves Mina's point. I guess that would be the time that it started.

When you started to fall. His laugh makes your cheeks deepen in hue and burn, to want to hear it again, to watch it again and learn all of the other sides of your patrol partner that he obviously only reserved for his closest friends.

"Let's throw him a great birthday party." You say, holding up your shot as a devilish smile spreads over sharp teeth. The mountainous man clinks your shot glass before he adds.

"Let's." In unison the two of you down the burning liquid as the plan comes into fruition.

Four months, four months and nineteen days of you thinking of nothing but your patrol partner with whom you got extremely close with since New Year's. So why? Why today of all days were you struggling? Why would normal everyday tasks feel more as if you were wading through mud than the breeze they should have been? You flip down the visor, looking yourself in the eye through little square mirror as you grit your teeth hissing

"Get your shit together."

Your little pep talk helps you get the several cakes and the cart full of booze that everyone requested, planning to make this the best birthday ever. Helping Kirishima set his house up with decorations, setting out the snacks, catering and even pouring some drinks as guests began to arrive to set down their gifts and help with the last minute touches before hiding. Masking through the pit in your stomach as you smiled at all of your friends as they poured in through Kirishima's door. Through the weighted emptiness you felt as each one wrapped you into a tight hug, already praising you and Kirishima for the amazing effort, that Bakugou would be so surprised when it was more than just you and Kirishima here. . Finally you had to go and get the guest of honor just before sundown to catch him before he went to bed. A much needed breather from the constant smiling and forcing a laugh that everyone thought sounded genuine.

Enjoying the silence of the evening train as it pulled you across town to the unsuspecting blonde. And maybe you could have made it through the night from your shitty pep talk or at least through getting the freshly 28 year old to his party but instead you catch your reflection in the window. Your facial features weighted with exhaustion, shoulders hunched allowing your body to continue to produce cortisol. Tears prick your eyes as you deep low, too low. Remembering everything and nothing all at once, steeping in guilt as you beg yourself for just a few more hours. That the depression episode can happen when you're home and alone, after the party goes off without a hitch. Tears fall anyway and they do all the way to Bakugou's until you finally get enough control to step out of yourself for a moment. Ringing the doorbell several times as a smile is plastered on your face, the door swings open. Bakugou's eyes narrow as they take you in, he notices that something is off. Your smile is a little too wide, your eyes rimmed red but he says nothing about it. Instead he lets his initial anger come forth.

"Oi! I told you to fuckin' text me when you were on the train so I could meet you at the station!" He growls, slamming his door shut and pocketing his keys. Deadly and sweaty hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as his palms itch to hold onto something else. Garnet eyes track your own hands as you reach over your head stretching.

"Yea yea, I hear you Dad." You tease giving him a look, "I still made it okay."

"Kirishima should have come instead of you that fuckin hair for brains." He snarls keeping pace with you as he always does on patrol.

"I know Dad must be sad cause his favorite didn't come to pick him up." You try not to sound dejected, nudging him in the ribs to distract from the crack in your voice, "Happy birthday ya big lug."

Bakugou cuts you a glare, mind racing before his barks out a "Thanks."

Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you before you two hit the train station, passing a corner store.

"Was shitty hair burning dinner? Do I need to stop for back up?" His thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the neon as he stands idle waiting for you to jog your memory. Kirishima had burned the last friend's dinner making Bakugou so angry he walked six blocks to make something that was 'FUCKIN EDIBLE!' while you tried to air out his apartment. You laugh loudly, genuinely for the first time that day causing Bakugou's shoulders to sag with relief. In the ten months he had been working with you he had only seen you faking a smile or laugh once or twice. Then the time after that you were absent from work the next day or two forcing him to patrol with Denki but worse yet...making him worry.

"Guess I'll grab something just in case." He gave you his back so you wouldn't see his face or the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.

"No, no! I ordered out this time. From that famous chef you like." Bakugou glares your way, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

"How much." He demands through gritted teeth while you show him the palms of your hands in surrender.

"Woah woah! It's your birthday gift! You can't pay me back for dinner! I'd sooner burn the money before I'd accept it from you!" Your watch dings with a message from Kirishima asking for an ETA. You grab onto Bakugou's hand pulling him along into a run as you shout over your shoulder.

"We're gonna be late!"

Oh how Bakugou wished you hadn't done that, he was already struggling to keep his heart beat even when you were around and now to grab onto him. To pull him along in a hurry like those cheesy insta posts that couples did on their "grand adventure" together. He swallows the lump in his throat as he reminds himself that you are nothing more than his patrol partner. His friend at best.

Even though the train was mostly empty Bakugou stood closely by you, as he always did when the two of you were in a crowded space. He had seen how most men took advantage of the situation and he hated the idea of that happening to you although he knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Hell you could kick even his ass but he would die before ever admitting that. Instead he watches you talk about what you ordered for dinner and how you got the cake from that bakery Sato works part time at, the same one he got your birthday cake from but he doesn't hear a word. Instead all he can see is the golden light from the setting sun worshiping you. Kissing your skin to make it glow, giving your eyes a hue that makes his heart fall into his stomach and illuminating you in a true light. A radiant ethereal thing is what you were and Bakugou was just lucky enough to be standing by you. So out of it he doesn't realize the two of you are at your stop.

"Uh Suki?" Your voice is soft paired with the setting sun has him acting weird. He leans closer to you, pulled by some invisible force before he stops himself as he watches you look up at him beneath long lashes.

"You okay?" You ask almost nervously from his proximity, the smell of spice and caramel wrap around you making you feel warm and fuzzy. Temporarily making you forget that you were trying to act on the train, making you relax as you just talked to Bakugou. He sucks his teeth as he picks up your bag to sling over his shoulder.

"Yea but you were gonna forget your whole damn purse like you always do." He huffs, this time he was the one pulling at your hand in a rush before the doors closed to trap you two on the train. His hand feels warm in yours, his grip tight as he drags you along before pulling you within his sight, another habit of his you happened to notice. Almost reluctantly he lets go of you hand as Kirishima's house comes into view.

"We better have a good time tonight patrol Princess or you owe me a special birthday gift." He laughs causing you to roll your eyes at his stupid nickname that stuck after your first day with him, adamant that the two of you take your route instead of his it was a huge argument. But it was a good thing he listened to the "princess", it put the two of you smack dab in the middle of a robbery. You stick out your tongue.

"Trust me. You're gonna have a good time!" You push him up the steps as he bats away your hands. Opening the front door before everyone jumps out of various and bad hiding spots.

"SURPRISE!!" All of the alumni of class A and some of B shout, a select few already slurring their words. Bakugou's scowl turns into a smirk before he looks over his shoulder at you.

"Aw you did this to me?" His voice is teasing but his eyes almost sparkle, you nod encouraging him to go deeper into the party. As he does people flock to him laughing and yelling out happy birthday until he's sick of hearing it. All the while your smile wanes with the night. Until an hour in that heavy episode hits you full force. Numbness setting in where happiness should be, rotting as it turns to shame and guilt as you watch your friend, your crush, enjoy his night. Bringing a glass bottle to his lips as he talks with Kirishima, who then presses a shot into his hands. Bodies dancing to the house music that beat out of the speakers competing with chatter and laughter.

It felt weird to watch everyone truly enjoying themselves while you felt low. It felt more as if you were standing outside of the house, looking in through the window to see everyone enjoying themselves, no one even knowing who you were as you stared in.

You felt distant, alone. What a shitty way to feel in a room full of people, none of it being their fault and so the guilt pressed harder. Eyes watering as they lingered on the blonde who deserved this celebration and more. Making you decide to give the best birthday gift of them all.

To slip away upstairs and onto the roof, to give the room space to breathe when you felt like suffocating.

Crying to no one but the moon.

And no one noticed. Two hours slip by before Kirishima insists that Bakugou make a wish and eat cake before everyone gets too drunk too. The entire house drunkenly sings happy birthday but Bakugou notices a voice missing. Yours that's just a touch off key, not to mention he didn't hear you say the stupid nickname 'Suki' where his name should be in the song. Plus you weren't one to miss out on dessert. For as long as Bakugou has been working with you, you never turned down the opportunity for sweets. Whether that was taking the long way back to the agency to try to catch a certain street vendor or to hover by the deserts at a party to pick the very best treat.

And if it was a birthday party, you never could shut up that y'all could not leave until after they blew out the candles and made a wish.

His eyes linger for a second longer, making sure he didn't miss you before his heart sinks. He takes in a sharp inhale, thinks on his wish and blows out the candles.

Meanwhile you hear the cheers of everyone down stairs and sob into your knees. You missed your favorite part of birthdays. Of hoping they make a wish that comes true, of watching their face as they think of something quickly or how some people tear up when they finally realize just how loved they are on their birthday.

It isn't long after that do you hear the sound of combat boots on shingles. Whipping your head up in the direction of the sound. Stomach clenching with guilt as you watch Bakugou walking towards you with a slice of cake.

"Brought ya some cake, since I didn't hear you sing off key to me." He says sinking down beside you as you furiously wipe at your tears.

"I'm-um."

"You don't gotta explain yourself to me." He snarls as you stare dumbly at your cake, "You know that."

"I know…" Silence passes slowly, the moon shines overhead and the party carries on below.

"Well, I'm waiting!" Bakugou says dramatically, "You gonna sing or am I gonna have to sing to myself?"

"Oh." It makes you giggle a bit before you blush, realizing he is serious. You take a deep breath before singing "just off key" when you don't, to him.

"Sukiiiiii!" Relief washes over his features when he hears the dumb ass name, "Happy birthday to youuuuuu!"

"Okay, now you can eat the damn cake." He grunts, his smile never wavering as he looks to the empty street below. You follow his eyes, chewing the inside of your lip, setting the cake down.

"What'd you wish for…" Curiosity gets the better of you and earns his intense gaze. He smirks, scoffing at the end.

"You always say you shouldn't tell or it won't come true." He laughs at your pout, before he finally admits "I wished for courage."

With a furrowed brow you give him a puzzled look, he just holds your gaze.

"Why? You're like the bravest hero I know!" Bakugou can hear the truth in your voice, you aren't saying it just to fucking stroke his ego.

You actually meant it, making this conversation that much harder.

"Yea except when it comes to this one thing I want to do. Its fuckin easy and I've done it hundreds of times just as I'm about to do it I fucking back down cause I'm probably fuckin reading into things too much." He leans in closer, again his smell mesmerizes you, causing your body to visibly relax, "Too much of a fuckin bitch, thinking she doesn't want me like I want her. So I wished for the courage to follow through. To fuckin' just do it."

Your heart is racing out of your chest before one of his hands finds the nape of your neck pulling you into a feverish kiss. Teeth gnashing from the passion, lips perfectly modeling to the other before tongues lightly dance around one another. Lengthening seconds into hours with just a few head tilts and plush lips. You moan into his mouth, he pulls away, eyes clouded with lust as a string of spit connects your tongues. He pants, face flushed and his hand warm, almost burning at the nape of your neck, the shingle by his hand charred from restraint as he pants out.

"I wished for you."

[butternuggets-blog]

Prompt: Did You Hear That?

Entry for Adarafaelbarba’s Trick or Treat Bingo

Heavily inspired by @minim236 ‘s post

Scary/Minor Gore

Day One

‘Did you hear that?!’ Lucius sat bolt upright in his bedroll, gladius in hand, as he glanced about. Felix sat up as well, crusty-eyed and messy-haired. The rest of the squad snored on around them.

‘I don’t hear anything'

Felix tugged at the back of Lucius' tunic but the older boy shook him off.

'Come rest. I need my sleep.'

‘I’m not stopping you’ Lucius snapped. They froze suddenly as a low, thin sound blew past them.

‘It’s the wind making the trees creak’ Felix pointed between the now pale Lucius, and the forest encroaching on the edge of the tiny clearing.

The teenagers were lumped together in the middle of the encampment. A Roman encampment usually meant tents, but the foliage was such a tangled mess this deep into the woods that they were sleeping on their bedrolls in small piles.

They had been telling each other ghost stories before they went to bed. Lucius' nerves had been wound up more than he'd care to admit.

Felix grabbed the back of Lucius' tunic and pinned him back down into his bedroll with his arm.

‘Come. Sleep.’

‘...Fine’ Lucius grumbled, settling reluctantly back onto the ground, flinching as the whistling, moaning noises continued to echo through the clearing.

________________________________________________________________

Day Three

Lucius frowned down at his pack. He had emptied out everything into neat rows in the mud beside him, and he still hadn’t been able to find his spare set of greaves.

‘Has anyone seen my scarf?’ Vitus ambled up, wriggling a finger in one ear. He stopped next to Lucius. ‘Oh, are you looking for something too?’

‘My spare greaves. I have looked everywhere.’

‘Things have gone missing all over camp,’ Felix said. He ate the last of his broth, and wiped the bowl with a chunk of bread. He waved it towards Marianus, Albus, and Spurius.

‘Verus has charged them with guard duty over the armourery tonight. The things that have been taken are only small; tent pegs, sandals, several lengths of rope. But the commander is urging vigilance, in case weapons are taken.’

‘Who do they think has done this?’ Lucius sneered at Vitus’ question, and jabbed a finger towards the forest around them.

‘Those creatures that call this place home. Gauls playing tricks on us, no doubt.’

‘But there were no tracks...’

Every boy snapped his gaze towards Albus. The sudden intense scrutiny made him blush.

‘There...there were no tracks anywhere in camp. Not animal, nor human. As if no creature had walked among us.’

Lucius felt a shiver roll up his spine.

***

The rattling whistle of the wind was louder than it had been all week. Lucius tossed and turned, trying to keep his mind blank to trick himself into unconsciousness.

A particularly loud moan nearby made him shoot up from his bedroll, panicked. He glared nervously out into the darkness, watching the trees intently for a few moments, before he lay back down.

Lucius was just beginning to get comfortable when his eyes snapped open.

The trees hadn't been moving.

There was no wind.

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Day Six

Lucius woke up right as Verus was aiming a kick at his thigh.

'Up, boy. Time for you to take watch'

'Yes sir'

Verus lay down on Lucius' still-warm bedroll as he pulled his gladius free from its scabbard and stood to attention. The commander normally slept a ways off from the rest of the squad, but it was too dangerous for that now.

The moaning had stopped the night before, and the sudden change was doing Lucius's head in. He had been jumping at shadows more than was necessary, including accidently nearly drawing his sword on other people approaching him from behind that he hadn't known were there.

If he kept up this he was going to get himself accused of cowardice.

****

Everything was gone.

Lucius stared around him, slackjawed.

Everything was...gone.

He had awoken that morning to the camp in uproar. Every piece of equipment, every scrap of cloth, every tent and saddle and pack had vanished.

‘At least it left us our bedrolls. And food.’ Albus nudged an upturned cooking pot with the tip of one sandle. ‘And the cauldrons.’

Lucius swallowed drily.

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Day Seven

The mud sticking to the bottom of Lucius’ sandals had splattered half way up his thighs. His fringe was plastered across his eyes, and the river of sweat pouring down his face kept dripping under his collar, making his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin.

‘Are we in the Underworld?’ Vitus gasped, as quietly as he could. The humidity had been rising steadily all day, and the forest had seemingly trapped the worst of it around them just as the night rolled in.

Lucius was fairly certain he was eating, rather than breathing, the air.

‘Pluto’s throne room would be cooler than this’ Spurius wheezed. He was at the edge of the squad formation, and kept having to stop every third step to haul Marianus and Albus forward out of the mire.

‘Eyes forward, stop talking’ Lucius choked out. He was at the front, leading the squad in a loose circular patrol around the camp. He shoved a low branch out of the way, and leant wearily against the trunk of the tree, catching his breath for a moment, waiting for the others to catch up.

A thin gust of wind stroked his face teasingly and he closed his eyes.

‘What is that?’

Lucius’ eyes snapped open.

Albus was pointing at something up ahead. Lucius squinted through the darkness; there was a large...thing...gently swaying in the sudden breeze, hanging down from the canopy above.

Lucius snuck closer.

It was armour.

Lucius shivered apprehensively.

The armour was strung up with rope, the thick cord providing a skeleton for the bodiless clothes. The end of the rope disappeared into the lightless canopy.

'Touch it!'

Lucius jumped, startled. Spurius slapped Albus.

'Do not touch it!'

'The rope looks like a noose' Felix squeaked.

Lucius took a deep breath to steady himself, drew his blade, and poked the leather breastplate with the tip of the gladius.

Nothing happened.

Lucius snorted and shoved his sword back into its scabbard, feeling angry with himself.

'There. Now, move-'

CLANK

Lucius spun on his heel in time to see the armour fly up the tree and out of sight. He clawed for his sword as he stumbled back to join the others; the boys pressed together, back to back, wild-eyed and shivering with shock.

'Who's there?' Lucius barked. 'Show yourself!'

In the tense pause they heard distant shouts erupt from across the camp. Felix cocked his head and listened intently.

'I think they have found more...bodies'

The squad pressed even closer together, swords raised high, breathing heavily.

Then all hell broke loose.

Blood and viscera rained down from above, splattering across their horrified faces. Thick ropes, knotted and tangled in a net spread wide across the entire clearing, shot out from the canopy; strung from it, dangling in a bizarre tableau, was every single piece of missing equipment.

Clothes and armour fought each other with spears and swords tied to empty, limbless sleeves. Tents torn to shreds and split-open packs were jumbled together in clumps or stuffed into tunics and breastplates to give certain mannequins extra realism.

Lucius turned white; Felix and Albus screamed, snapping him back to reality, right as Vitus, Spurius and Marianus fell down on top of each other as they attempted to flee.

________________________________________________________________ 

Phoebe was smiling with horrified fascination through her fingers.

‘What did you do after that?’

‘We left’ Baldwin chewed a handful of almonds absentmindedly.

‘Did you find out who did it?’

‘Not specifically. It was definately someone from one of the local villages- what?’

Phoebe was pointing next to Baldwin; he turned to face Martin, who looked like he was struggling to decide between laughing and feeling extremely guilty.

‘...oh you bastard-’

‘I’m sorry-ow! ow! stop hitting me!’

Phoebe broke down giggling as Baldwin thumped Martin repeatedly with a pillow.

‘I had nightmares for weeks! WEEKS! After that!’

‘I promise I’ll make it up to you’

‘EW!’ Phoebe squealed, blushing red.

[thecreaturecodex]

Phantom Hound

Image by Anthony Carpenter, © Kenzer and Co.

[I’m trying to pull myself back into a more frequent schedule. Not sure how long it will last, but I’m feeling more focused creatively than I have in months. I’m trying to post Monday through Saturday, two monsters of each theme block per week. We’ll see how long I can keep it up.

As previously mentioned, Hackmaster 5e is a much more serious game than its predecessor, but bits and pieces of jokes, like vestigial organs, still crop up. For example, most of the canines in Hackmaster are no longer “dawgs”, but orcish wardawgs are, and other canine monsters have similarly mangled spellings. Like the fantom dog here.]

Phantom Hound CR 5 NE Undead This great black hound stands half as tall as a man at the shoulder. Its eyes are gaping pits with a pinprick of red light glowing within.

Phantom hounds, sometimes called black dogs, moor hounds, or hounds of ill omen, are cursed undead that hunt the living. They are believed to be created from the souls of mortals who were afraid of going to the afterlife to receive the punishment they had earned, and so dwell in between life and death. They are dimly sapient and hunt well together, but will gladly cooperate with a more intelligent undead master. Packs of these creatures can be found in desolate areas around the world, but prefer to lair close to caves where they can hide from the sun during the day. Being undead, they do not truly sleep, and may venture out at any time during storms or other weather that dampens the hated effects of sunlight. Many people who live in areas where phantom hounds dwell consider seeing any black dog at night, undead or not, as an ill omen.

A single phantom hound typically hunts by stealth. If packs of these creatures are present together, however, they begin combat with a howl in order to panic and flush out potential prey. A phantom hound runs along air, and so often attacks from cliff edges, over mud or quicksand, or otherwise takes advantage of terrain features to impede their targets. Their strategies are fairly simple—bite until enemies are dead—but if they cannot reach a foe, or if it proves difficult to bite onto, a phantom hound will curse it with terrible luck.

Phantom Hound    CR 5 XP 1,600 NE Medium undead Init +5; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +9, scent Defense AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 15 (+1 Dex, +5 natural) hp 52 (7d8+21) Fort +5, Ref +3, Will +7 DR 10/silver; Immune undead traits Weakness sunlight powerlessness Offense Speed 40 ft.; air walk Melee bite +9 (1d6+4 plus ability drain) Special Attacks ability drain (Fort DC 16, 1d4 Con), cursed gaze, howl Statistics Str 16, Dex 13, Con -, Int 5, Wis 15, Cha 16 Base Atk +5; CMB +8; CMD 19 (23 vs. trip) Feats Alertness, Blind-fight, Improved Initiative, Weapon Focus (bite) Skills Perception +9, Sense Motive +4, Stealth +7, Survival +4 (+12 when tracking by scent); Racial Modifiers +8 Survival tracking by scent Languages Common (cannot speak) Ecology Environment any land Organization solitary, pair or pack (3-12) Treasure incidental Special Abilities Ability Drain (Su) A creature bitten by a phantom hound must succeed a DC 16 Fortitude save or take 1d4 points of Constitution drain. On each successful attack, the phantom hound gains 5 hit points. The save DC is Charisma based. Air Walk (Su) A phantom hound moves as if under the effect of an air walk spell. Cursed Gaze (Su) As a standard action, a phantom hound may curse a creature that it can see and that can see it. A creature so cursed must succeed a DC 16 Will save or suffer from unluck for 1 day, rolling all d20 rolls twice and taking the lower of the two results. A creature that succeeds this save is immune to the cursed gaze of that phantom hound for the next 24 hours. This is a curse effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Howl (Su) The howl of a single phantom hound is unnerving, but harmless. If three or more phantom hounds howl in unison as a standard action, all creatures within 240 feet  of a howling phantom hound must succeed a DC 16 Will save or be panicked for 1 minute. The save DC increases by 1 for every hound over three that howls together. This is a mind-influencing fear effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Sunlight Powerlessness (Ex) A phantom hound caught in sunlight (not merely a daylight spell) is staggered and cannot attack.

[lets-steal-an-archive]

... speaking of christofascist white supremacists ⤵️

This refusal to mask to protect lives reminds me of how that one old timey surgeon was like "hey I noticed that mortality rates go down when I wash my hands between handling corpses and delivering babies, maybe try it?" And he got treated viciously and shunned by the entire medical field because "a gentleman's hands are always clean" like by default so they shouldn't have to wash them.

And just this obvious but often unspoken idea that contagion can never be spread (and definitely not seriously suffered) by someone who thinks of themself as like inherently "pure" and how these ideas link up with white supremacist and ableist/eugenicist concepts of who is "dirty" and who is considered pure/clean by default even without cleaning themselves (and how Calvinist predestination never really left us and people think they're "good" because of their own special essence rather than what they DO) and like who generally gets blamed for widespread contagion and how those who are ill long term are suspect and are either fakers/exaggerating/"using it as an excuse" or deserve to suffer somehow or both and how all this cognitive baggage makes it possible to see thousands dead every week and decide that's not a big deal

Which is a lot of why anti masking started with christofascist white supremacists!!

[allnewalldifferentwildspider]

Zuko & Katara's Relationship Dynamic

This is like the third or fourth time I've tried to write up this post so please bare with me.

Oh wow. That video. Hopefully everyone has seen it now. Not only did it articulate arguments I've been making for years, but it also brought up ideas I had never thought of or noticed before. Watching that and watching the second half of Book 3 again (because it's my favorite) made me want to redo my zutara dynamic post.

I'm going to be using the tiny bits and pieces the show gave us to see how Zuko and Katara's relationship looks and how it would look if they gave us more because...Bryke really fucking hated zutara. I mean, I guess they did.

Katara is compassionate; Zuko is empathetic

A lot of anti-zutara arguments have said that Zuko and Katara could never be together because they would constantly fight and hate each other and it end sooner than later. Not only does this actually describe maiko, but that argument would need to ignore the characters' actual character.

One of Katara's biggest character traits is how compassionate she is. She has a drive to help others and ease their pain. Whether it's getting Aang out of the iceberg or healing a Fire Nation fishing village, Katara will go out of her way to help someone in need.

Katara: No. I will never ever turn my back on people who need me.

Zuko is very emotional and passionate person. As much as he tried to hide it to appease his father, Zuko does want to open up and connect with people. Unfortunately, aside from his uncle, most of the other people he knows are like Zhao and Azula. Not the most understanding of crowds. But because of this he can pick up what people are really thinking and feeling. Think of it as a defense mechanism he developed growing up around people like Azula.

Get these two kinds of people together and you get the crystal catacombs scene. Katara lashes out at Zuko until she breaks down. When she does Zuko opens up with empathy since they have something in common. This creates the beginning of an understanding between the two. Zuko uses that to finally open up to someone who isn't his uncle and Katara listens and reaches out to help. Contrast to the first episode of Book 3 when Zuko tries to voice his thoughts and concerns to Mai and she...doesn't really care.

Something similar happens during The Southern Raiders. Zuko figures out that Katara is taking out her anger of being separated from her father by The Fire Nation onto him and even connecting her mother's death to him.

It's not the first time Zuko has done this either. He easily figured out that Sokka was planning on going to The Boiling Rock. He does it again during Sozin's Comet when he tells Katara that Aang needs to figure out what to do about Ozai by himself.

There's a noticeable pattern of behavior by the time Sozin's Comet arrives. Zuko voices his concerns about meeting his uncle again and Katara is right there to help him through it.

Zuko's empathy combined with Katara's compassion creates almost a cycle of understanding and emotional vulnerability that the two can't really get with anyone else. One notices the other having concerns or problems and goes to give comfort by words or by actions.

Zuko still has a temper but so does Katara

Even after Zuko's fever dream character change thing, even after The Day of Black Sun, he still has it in him to yell at anyone who commits even the slightest transgressions against him:

Aang: That one felt kinda hot. Zuko: Don't patronize me. You know what it's supposed to look like. Aang: Sorry, sifu hotman. Zuko: And stop calling me that!

Sokka: So all we have to do is make Zuko angry. Easy enough. *pokes him with his sword* *annoying laugh* Zuko: All right! Cut it out!

Maybe it's the firebender in him or maybe he really is just like that. Basically if you annoy him, he'll let you know. What people sometimes overlook is that while it takes Katara a bit longer, she also gets worked up when people upset her.

Toph: What's the matter? Can't handle some dirt, Madame Fussy Britches? Katara: Oh, sorry, did I splash you, mud slug?

And remember, it was Katara getting angry at Sokka that even broke the iceberg that revealed Aang.

Katara: Ugh, I'm embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! Sokka: Uh... Katara? Katara: I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks? Let me tell you, NOT PLEASANT! Sokka: Katara! Settle down! Katara: No, that's it. I'm done helping you. From now on, you're on your own!

The point is that it is both Zuko and Katara that are very passionate and emotional people. One of them isn't emotionally dominating the other because they both wear their emotions on their sleeves.

This also comes in to play when they set goals for themselves. When Zuko sets a goal, he puts everything into it. Katara is the same way. The difference is that Zuko's drive sometimes gives him a one-track mind while Katara is more flexible. Like for example Zuko being so focused on finding Aang before Sozin's Comet that he ignores Toph's story about her childhood versus Katara wanting to go to the North Pole but taking time to stop and help whoever they come across.

This passion also fuels their values and how strongly they stand by their beliefs. I already put The Painted Lady quote up above but Zuko's morality is what is making him so angry at himself during The Beach. He knows what he did was wrong, but he couldn't face it yet.

Sometimes their emotions get the better of them, but it's only because they are passionate about what they're doing.

Their natural teamwork is amazing

I can't provide a lot of clues in this bit because it's more of a visual thing. Just consider how flawlessly their plans worked during their attack on The Southern Raiders. Especially when you consider that it was a stealth mission so they barely even said anything to each other during and it still went incredibly well.

You could see it again during their mock battle with The Melon Lord. Sokka must have noticed because he paired them together to deliver some "liquidy-hot offence." And they pulled it off, again, without having to say anything.

They've only been a team for a few weeks(?), days(?) but they act as if they've been doing it for years.

They trust each other's judgment

Piggybacking of the previous point, Zuko and Katara have only been a team for a while but there seems to be a level of understanding in terms of judgement. They both know that whatever the other chooses is going to be a well-thought out decision. Maybe it's because they see each other as the mature members of the group even though Sokka is the same age as Zuko? I don't know.

Aang disappears right before they embark on their fight against the Fire Lord, and out of nowhere, Katara puts Zuko in charge.

Zuko: Get out of the bison's mouth, Sokka. We have a real problem here. Aang is nowhere to be found and the comet is only two days away. Katara: What should we do Zuko? Zuko: I don't know. Why are you all looking at me? Katara: Well, you are kind of the expert on tracking Aang.

and that wasn't the first time in that episode that she went along with one of Zuko's decisions

Katara: Aang, don't walk away from this. *She begins to walk towards him as a hand touches her shoulder to stop her from doing so.* Zuko: Let him go. He needs time to sort it out by himself.

As a lot of people have pointed out during the entirety of The Southern Raiders, Zuko never gives a suggestion on what he thinks Katara should do. Aside from making it a stealth mission, he follows her lead the entire way.

Katara teases Zuko (and he lets her)

The fun one. This one has two parts: pre and post The Southern Raiders.

Before The Southern Raiders, Katara was tolerating Zuko. She was still angry with him about the betrayal at Ba Sing Se. Getting little jabs at him was the only thing that was really helping her from loosing her cool around him.

Katara: I'm sorry. I'm just laughing at the irony. You know... how it would have been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago? Zuko: Well it's not lost. It's just weaker for some reason. Katara: Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are. Toph: Ouch.

He just finished yelling at Aang and Sokka but all he does is glare at Katara. She does it again, but to be fair, he kind of set himself up for it.

Zuko: It's a sacred form that happens to be thousands of years old! Katara: Oh yeah? What's your little form called? Zuko: ...The Dancing Dragon.

Then comes post The Southern Raiders and...yeah, she's still picking on him and he still lets her. Granted it's a lot more playful this time around.

Zuko: They make me totally stiff and humorless. Katara: Actually, I think that actor's pretty spot on. Zuko: How could you say that? Actor Uncle: Let's forget about the Avatar and get massages. Actor Zuko: How could you say that?! (Cut back to Katara wearing a satisfied grin on her face and she looks to an expressionless Zuko as he slouches in his seat.)

I love pointing it out every time. She teases him and he does nothing about it.

Katara: Er, no. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic and I found this. Look at baby Zuko! Isn't he cute? Oh lighten up, I was just teasing.

And she admits it!

-

So what can we take away from this? From what little time they were given together (thanks, Bryke) it seems that Zuko and Katara really understand each other on an intimate emotional level. They can sense when the other is distressed and offer comfort. They're both passionate in and out of combat, for better or for worse. They're comfortable with each other as if they've known each other for years even though it's such a short time. Katara also likes to add a little bit of playfulness in there with Zuko letting her have her fun, again, showing how comfortable they are with each other.

I do think their relationship could have gone to romantic sooner than later if you would have given it a bit more time. Like first half of a hypothetical Book 4.

To me, at least.

[xenia-cenia]

Razor x Fem!Reader - Trust

A/N - I... have been avoiding writing this one, but he and Albedo are the last two before I can finish off the Mondstadt part of this series. Here’s hoping it doesn’t take me as long as the other ones lol

Post writing authors note: only took 2 hours so a lot better than my other ones

Trigger/Content Warnings: Injury, blood mention, slight manga spoilers, kidnapping, human experimentation mention, abusive sibling, food mention

Word Count: 1,552

Request: No

Summary: Ooooh dottore bad... razor good.... its 1am i have school tomorrow pretend this makes sense

---------------------------------------------------------------

You came to him on accident. 

You didn’t mean to stumble into the Wolvendom with blood coating your arm and chased by people who thought of you as nothing more than a Harbingers sister. You hadn’t planned on slipping in the mud and watching with fear in your eyes as your pursuers celebrated their victory. How could you of known that the scream that’d fall from your lips would alert a nearby boy?

Electricity remained in the air as he set his weapon down. He turned to you with a blank expression, “...hurt?”

“Who are you? Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“Hurt.” He pointed at your arm. “I fix.” Razor walked over to you and kneeled, carefully grabbing your arm.

“The Fatui! You’ve just... oh Archons, please help me. I’m so sorry, I got you into this mess and now you’ll be in danger, why did I scream?”

“Fa... tui?” He slightly cocked his head to the side.

“T-They’re people who want me back. I... I’m the sister of-”

“Family?”

You shook your head violently, “No! Not family!” You sighed, “I’m the sister of one of the harbingers. P-Please, tell me you haven’t heard of Dottore...”

“Dottore. Dottore bad?”

“Very!” 

“You scared Dottore?”

“Yes.”

“Razor protect you from Dottore. Join lupical.”

“Lu...” you echoed, “Are you Razor?”

“Razor is me.”

You looked at the mysterious boy and considered your options; either be found by the fatui and forced to face your brother or... follow the boy who saved your life without knowing you.

“Okay, fine.” You sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

He nodded, “Follow.”

You walked in silence and you noticed kindness in his subtle actions. He would hold branches above your head until you were safely past them or pointed out puddles so you wouldn’t step in them.

Finally, you arrived at an opening. Wolves stalked the exterior, looked at Razor and you, and continued their business.

“Ra... Razor?” You whispered, gripping onto his arm and stepping behind him. “Why did you take me to wolves?”

“Lupical. Family.”

“These are your family?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You nodded, drew out your words as you started to regret your decision to trust him. “Wolf... family. Alrighty. Annnd... I’m here now. This is what I’m doing with my life.”

“Lupical protect Razor. Razor protect Lupical. Razor trust you. You smell nice.”

“I’ve been on the run for multiple weeks. There’s no way I smell nice.”

Razor scrunched his eyebrows as he searched for the right word, “You smell... kind. Razor trust you.” He turned to you and tried to manage a smile though it looked more like a ferocious snarl, “You trust Razor?”

And maybe you were just tired but for some reason, you did. 

It didn’t take long for you to merge with the rest of the wolf pack, though you couldn’t understand their words you learned their body language. 

The pups would run over to you and wouldn’t leave you alone until you pet them behind the ears. You would pick grass and would weave it into a shoddy crown, and each time you gave it to Razor he’d wear it the rest of the day. 

Happy. You were happy. 

Hunting, flower picking, star gazing. It was simple, but it was the best life you could’ve asked for. A life outside of political intrigue, violence, anger, and human test subjects.

A life where you could smile. A life where your shoulders relaxed. A life where you were trusted and you could trust.

Lupical. Family. You would give anything to keep these peaceful days ongoing. 

But, as with every spot of happiness you found, it needed to be crushed. 

Crushed by your older brother and the troops he controlled as he tracked down your location. As he demanded they wait until nightfall to grab you by your arm and drag you back into his clutches.

“Scream and they die.” He had said with a smile. You knew better than to doubt him. 

“Can I...” you tried to blink the tears out of your eyes, “Can I give them a final goodbye gift?”

Dottore rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. You picked grass, quickly weaved it into a shotty flower crown, and lied it on Razor's chest. And just like that, you were gone.

You were halfway to Liyue by the time Razor realized that you were missing. He gripped the flower crown as if his life depended on it, and tried his best to stay calm. To breathe.

His Lupical were quicker to pick up on your disappearance, they whined and hounded him until he finally picked up on it. 

What was he going to do? You trusted him and you’re gone. Razor hadn’t felt this awful since part of his Lupical died in front of him. He didn’t spend much time grieving, however, he dropped right onto your scent.

You walked next to your brother, your eyes locked onto the ground, you were surrounded by trees and there was a cliff behind you. 

“Why, (Y/N), you gave us quite a scare!” He chuckled after hours of pure silence, “3 months and no message. I almost began to think the worst.”

“I bet you wished for it.” You grumbled under your breath.

“What?” He looked at you, “How could you say that? I love you.”

“You never loved me.” You snapped, your fingernails digging into your palms, “You used me. You only want me back so I can’t tell everybody the awful things you do. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter to you. I’m just here for your appearances.”

“I wanted you back because you’re my fami-”

“Don’t you dare say we’re family. They were my family. They loved me.”

“The-the wolves?” He laughed, “Don’t be absurd! Wolves can’t love you.”

“And why not?” You finally made eye contact with him, “They surely love me more than you.”

He looked at you with a slightly agape mouth, “Surely you hear how ridiculous you sound. You... you need some food. When's the last time you had a whole meal? Is that it? Are you starving? Are you sleep-deprived? What’s making you act like this?”

“I finally found someone who truly cares about me, and you take me away from them! You never want me to be happy. I hate you.” You took a deep breath, “No... hate isn’t strong enough. I despise you.” 

Dottore looked at you with almost seemed like genuine pain. But you knew better. This was the man who’d set scientists to dissect your body if he got bored. This was the man who turned countless children into experiments. 

You hated him. You hated the way he made you doubt yourself. You hated his confident smirk. 

He sighed heavily, “They always did say these teen years were hard... (Y/N), I don’t understand why you’re angry.”

“And that’s the issue! You never understand me. You don’t even try to.”

“Can’t you just listen to me?”

“I have! I’ve listened for years and nothing's ever changed! You take me away from where I’m happy and try to convince me I’m in the wrong for getting upset. You are a terrible brother and even worse person.”

“Ter... oh. Oh, (Y/N), I tried to be reasonable with you.” He shook his head dismissively, “It really is your fault. You forced my hand. You’re going back to Snezhnaya and you’re staying there until you learn your lesson.”

“No, I’m not.” You took a step away from him. “I’ll run. I’ll run each time and I’ll tell everybody what you do.”

He stepped towards you and grabbed your wrist, “If you disappear again, I’ll just be forced to kill all of your... ahem... friends.” 

You bit your lip and tried to keep the tears pooling in your eyes to spill over, “Fine.” You pulled out of his grasp. 

“Are you finally going to listen to me?”

You turned around and looked over the edge of the cliff. A flash of white caught your attention. You smiled to yourself, turned around, and let the tears fall. 

With outstretched arms, a huge smile, and a torrent of tears, you spoke, “I’ll always run from you.” You stood on the edge and let your body fall.

Dottore ran to the edge and grabbed at your clothes, missing by mere inches. He looked over the cliff in fear as he watched you fall through the branches of trees. 

He sighed to himself and tried to contain his frustration. “Damn brat.” He turned to his troops who took the time of your argument to rest, “We continue on. (Y/N) is dead.”

In the tree, Razor looked at you in relief as you sat in his arms. “Safe?”

“Safe.” You replied with a laugh as you hugged him as best as you could considering he was holding you. “He won’t... he won’t bother us anymore.”

“Dottore? Dottore hurt you? Razor not protect.”

You pulled back from the hug, “You saved me.”

He blinked, “Razor... save? You are safe... Razor save...”

You pulled him down by his collar and kissed his cheek, “I love you.”

His cheeks turned bright red. “Love... Razor love... Razor love you.”

You giggled as you pulled him into another kiss, happy to be free from your brother and in Razor's arms. 

“I love you,” you whispered again, “I love you so much.”