You’re gonna have a good time

Megalovania if it was in major key rather than minor key

Song plays during a montage of Frisk and Sans having good times.

Have some random heartwarm chickenscribbles to the music ♥

#this made me cry INSTANTLY#I think you’ve unlocked sans’ actual theme#sans wouldn’t want megalovania to be is theme. he’s a dork. megalovania is the theme he’s forced into when the world is being torn apart (via @theladyem)

The outro theme to the darkest, saddest anime imaginable

* HAPPY SOBS*

This is his true theme… HIS THEME (REMASTERED)

UJSISJWWUSJWUSJIWJS my heart hurts now,,,, if only you could see sans this happy in the game-

Honestly this is such a vibe

Otherpunk

Belief in full acceptance of alterhuman identities, supporting differences between one another, inclusion of one another, and defying strict lines or gatekeeping between identities.

Otherpunk does not require you to be in any specific alterhuman category or label, only that you consider yourself alterhuman, or alterhuman-adjacent. Furthermore, you do not have to reject labels in order to be otherpunk. You are allowed to find labels extremely useful for yourself and still be otherpunk, so long as you are okay with those who do otherwise.

The purpose of otherpunk is primarily for solidarity between the different alterhuman groups, and rejecting the notion that different labels have vastly different, or "more valid" experiences. For many, the lines between various alterhuman identities are blurred, or within a grey area, and for others, they may still be figuring themselves out entirely. It is also inclusive of alterhuman experiences of varying degrees and walks of life.

Otherpunk also represents self identification; the labels that one uses should come from personal identification and comfort within a label, not gatekeeping or forcing into a specific box through outside parties. Otherpunk believes that alterhuman groups are ultimately each other's allies, and that solidarity between groups is important. Instead of focusing on our differences, otherpunk focuses on our similarities and our mutual efforts for acceptance and representation.

Otherpunk is all-inclusive. No alterhuman experience is a fake one, and one's experience with their alterhuman identity is for themselves alone to question or judge. Otherpunk is also accepting of those who do not use labels at all, and those who are questioning and experimenting with various labels. Furthermore, otherpunk is inclusive of lesser known alterhuman identities, such as altervexo, othervague, endel, and constelic.

Otherpunk is not to be used by those who harass, gatekeep, or force others into other identifications. Otherpunk is not inclusive of those who do any of these things, and it is not accepting of fakeclaiming or harassment in general. It is also not for ableists, or those who believe that any form of alterhumanity is "just" something else (ex: those who believe spiritual otherkin are inherently delusional rather than otherkin.)

The term otherpunk comes from various usages of "other" within the community, such as otherkin, otherlink, otherhearted, and so on. Alterpunk was originally considered a synonym for this term, however there are some issues with using "alter" as a prefix for a punk label, so I decided to settle on "other." (Furthermore, ontopunk had this same issue.)

The symbols, and the flags:

This symbol is meant to represent various alterhuman communities, and how they are interconnected together. The circle and/or diamond is used in various different symbols, such as for therian and otherhearted, and the diamond loop shows our connection and similarities.

The flags colors are as follows: Green represents "otherness", or being alterhuman/nonhuman. Blue represents solidarity between labels and experiences. Dark purple/pink represents uplifting and supporting personal identification, alongside lesser known labels. Black represents alterhuman history, and the foundations of our community.

This term, the flags, and the symbols are welcome to be used by all that identify with it, so long as you do not claim it is your own.

Do not put discourse on my post. If you do, you will be blocked. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.

Being friends with therians is fun because you can say shit like "oh yeah I'm friends with a raccoon we were discussing his marital issues the other day" and be completely serious and I absolutely Love that

"why do you eat so fast?" they ask, not knowing i have the brain of a wild animal that still hasn't grasped the concept of regular meals

i love my nonhumanity! i have been openly otherkin for a decade now, and I have always let my friends know. i wear ears, tails, a septagram ("otherkin star") pendant, strange clothing, and i bark, wag my tail, and openly say "oh, im not human" when others say "well, you're only human"... I'm always known as "the elf guy" or "the dog guy" and it makes me happy! even if they see it as weird, or enable me so they can mock me, it doesn't change the fact that it's who i am. I'm not ashamed, and you shouldn't be either, to the other nonhumans reading this. :-)

for a long time i’ve been saying, “in my past life i was a cat, and in my next life i will be a cat.” this is said with varying degrees of seriousness.

lately, though, i’ve been saying, “i wish i was i cat,” “i want to be a cat,” “if only i were a cat.”

and i knead blankets, curl up into little balls, nuzzle my head into soft spaces, sit on top of piles of blankets and clothes. i love nothing more than being petted and scritched and held. i make purring and squeaking noises and i tap people to ask for affection.

it’s embedded in my soul, my entity, my existence. the lines of human and little domesticated kitty cat are blurred, or perhaps not there at all.

i’m not sure how i’d classify myself;

therian?

nonhuman?

otherhearted?

otherkin?

i feel no species dysphoria. i do not yearn for a soft belly, tiny paws, or pointy little ears. i am content in this human form.

i know that, if i’m sent into a next life, i will be a cat. the universe must know that i am unfit for human life; i am clumsy and sleepy and too big for what i truly am. perhaps that is why i’m unfazed by my humanity— the knowledge that i will be a small little housecat eventually holds me like a mother and sets me down on its plush certainty.

when the time comes, i will stretch my little paws and purr gently as i am finally brought home.

for now, this is my home: sitting under weighted blankets, snuggled in fetal position, holding a large pusheen plushie and reading fanfiction of my favorite characters.

fairy lights and magenta blush and watercolor paints and holding hands and borrowing books and resting my head on a friend’s shoulder and complimenting whoever i want.

i am content in this world. i am also content in the next one, lending me the joys of a simple, pampered, brushed cat.

it is not coexistence.

i am saturn and i am a cat. i am not fully human, and not yet entirely feline.

i am both in whole, from whichever facet you view me from.

I thought I remembered pikachu being treated almost as a pest in early pokemon media, but I think this is only true for the one chapter in pokemon adventures when Red catches Pika? anyways heres pestachu

spookycorns

Some fanart of @pocketss ‘s characerts.

I love the little goblins and not goblins, they’re so cute. 

Alderfaunami or Faunamidernic is an aldernic term for when one has, or wishes to have, animalistic ears!

Flag ID

Why would you buy these?

anyway, here's where to buy these [ link... ]

Please remember that adopting a hellhound is not just a lifelong commitment, but afterlife long commitment as well.

Lines never end. Therefore, Steve and Bucky swore to be together forever. In this essay I will

Again you all are missing the point, and missing out on the true comedy of this novel which is: for as strangely cheerful as Jonathan is he IS genre savvy and he DOES think something horrible might happen to him. The last two entries ended with him hoping desperately he'll get to see his family again. Not the words of someone unaware of the danger he's in. The comedy of Dracula is how he looks at the warning signs, SEES them, and his reaction is just to be like ":/. I guess this what I signed up for when I became a real estate agent. Should I have seen this coming?" Like this man is willing to risk joining the legions of the undead if that's where his line of work takes him. Furthermore his naturally buoyant spirit heightens the comedy bc his mind is like "Am I about to die? Man I love my fiance she's the best! Am I about to die? These mountains are gorgeous! Am I about to die? These locals are so kindhearted! Am I about to die? This chicken is really good! Am I about to die? My boss likes me!!! Am I about to die?

Mumbo went on vacation.

Like, he just up and went one day, and no one knew where he was.

Well, Grian knew, of course, but he was being a little asshole and not telling anyone. Just a “he’ll be back, don’t worry”, and nothing more out of the man.

All the hermits knew is that he was gone, on vacation, allegedly. What he was doing was a mystery, one that the hermits took upon themselves to create the answer to.

——

“I’m telling you now, he got lost trying to find the beach.” Tango told Impulse. “And he’s just like standing in the middle of a bog, just looking like a wet cat. Stuck in mud, saying things like ‘golly this isn’t ideal’ and ‘this is pants’ and stuff like that.”

——

“I bet, you know I bet, he went to sleep and woke up on an alien planet. Just like bztttt, and then he was gone. The aliens wanna study him, because he’s so weird.” Gem narrowed her eyes at Pearl. “Maybe there’s an alien on the inside, living here in Hermitcraft, who arranged all of this.”

“You have an active imagination.” Pearl replied, polishing her spaceship.

——

“Oh Mumbo? Oh he’s off on a magnificent quest, slaying monsters and wooing villagers and riding horses!” Scar told anyone who passed, even if they weren’t talking to him. “Oh, wait, no, that’s me I’m thinking of. I’ve been playing too much of the Witcher recently.”

——

“See, the thing is, I took a look at the map. I used some special poppy technology to locate every single hermit on this world, and Mumbo just isn’t here! It doesn’t make any sense!” Doc stroked his goatee thoughtfully.

“DocM, my diggity dude, isn’t trying to spy on some dude like, illegal, or something? Violation of privacy?” Ren asked funkily.

Doc looked dramatically out the window. “Not if it’s in the name of science.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Doc.”

——

Zedaph had about ten different theories for where Mumbo could be, each more ridiculous then the last. No one would listen to him except for his captive audience, Beef, who would endure Zed’s rambling as long as he held the carpets for him.

“I mean, if you really just rotate it in your mind, really think about it, the answer is quite simple! Grian sacrificed Mumbo to the moon so it wouldn’t get big again!”

“Red carpet, please.” Beef held out his hand.

“Listen, listen, listen, you must consider the facts! Mumbo looks like a disheveled Victorian child as it is, which makes him perfect for sacrificing!”

——

“Mumbo’s bike riding and filming stuff.” Joe said.

“Joe, what the fuck is a bike?” Cleo asked tiredly. “You’re just making things up again.”

“So, an elf, huh?”

Scar huffed in fright and turned around to see the hulking figure of Doc standing behind him.

“An elf indeed.” Scar replied, putting a hand to his heart to calm himself. “You scared me, Doc. You can’t do that to me!”

“Would the elf like some company?” Doc asked. In the moonlight, it was hard to make the man out, besides the red light of his mechanical eye.

“Sure.”

Doc mumbled and huffed to himself, taking off his wings and his armor and easing himself to sit on the leaves next to Scar. There was some mechanical groaning and buzzing, and then silence. Scar looked over at Doc with his ever-present smile.

“So, Mr. DocM, I’m a bit surprised to see you out and about at this time of night. I mean, its always a delight, but still a surprise.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Doc replied. “Mechanical parts were aching, and my mind was racing anyway.”

Scar chuckled softly. “I can understand that. Well, besides the mechanical parts, that is.”

Silence fell between the two. It was amicable and comfortable. They didn’t often run in the same circles, but that didn’t really matter. The breeze up here on top of Scar’s tree was sweet and forgiving, and there is nothing greater then the bond of two people who can’t sleep just existing together.

“So why an elf?” Doc said after a while, turning to look at Scar. “I mean, I think it’s a wonderful look for you, and I love how you’re going for a bit more of a tits-out approach. Are you trying to copy your biggest fashion hero, me? Very flattering.”

Scar snorted, rearranging his green robes. “Oh Doc, you may be a master of redstone, but you dress like a natural disaster.” He flashed Doc a grin. “But yeah, an elf. I don’t know, really. My hair was growing while in the void, and I couldn’t stop thinking about trees. Thought I’d never see one again, in the darkest moments. Alright, throwing it back to you- why the horns?” He reached out a slender finger and traced it along the curves of one of the horns on Doc’s head.

“Just kind of came with me, I suppose.” Doc leaned into the touch just a little bit. “A bit like you and your hair. But a bit more permanent.” He was quiet again, letting Scar trace his horn, thinking. “I think it’s punishment, in a way, for what me and Ren did.”

Scar paused. “What did you do? I don’t recall.”

“It’s complicated.” Doc said. “But we did kill a lot of the hermits to get their heads to surround what we thought was some kind of moon rock.”

“Yeah, that sounds complicated.” Scar chuckled. “But then again, who hasn’t killed, huh?” Doc shot him a look, but didn’t say anything. “We live odd lives, Doc. Even in the most purest of senses, you and I move and create worlds. Break it down to its most key components, and then build it up even better. You always impress me, Doc, if that means anything.”

Doc laughed. “Are you kidding me? I’m like your biggest fan! The things you can do with dirt and stone is incredible! I can’t stop looking at this tree!”

Scar bowed his head humbly and smiled. Doc watched him, watched as the smile slowly faded from the other man’s face as he thought about something.

“The moon… it really had more of an effect on us then we realized, didn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.

“I suppose so.” Doc looked up at their moon. It seemed so small now. So innocent up there. “The people in this world are not the beings I saw leaving the last one, thats for sure.”

Scar nodded. “It’s interesting, the way that we break and come back together.” He smiled at Doc again. “Even if we aren’t the same, we still come back.” He didn’t speak another word, and neither did Doc. They both just watched the sky slowly get lighter, into the elegant colors of morning.

Pearl had soup. That’s why Cleo had been told by literally everyone. If you caught her at a soup-making time, she’d give you soup. Cleo wanted soup. So she walked over the river to Pearl’s cute alien-themed house. See what she’s up to.

What Pearl was up to, as it turns out, was eating drywall. Cleo could see her from one of her windows, just kind of skittering over the walls on her feet and hands, just eating drywall.

“What the fuck?” Cleo clapped a hand to her mouth and ducked down behind some vines. Pearl wasn’t paying attention. She was busy stirring a big pot on the stove now, still chewing on some drywall with another hand.

“Hey Cleo! Why are we spying on Pearl!” Came a cheerful voice from right next to Cleo, and Cleo almost stabbed Gem with a knife.

“Jesus Christ Gem!” Cleo hissed, dragging Gem down so they were both hidden. “You can’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry!” Gem’s eyes were wide. “I just wanted to know why you were spying on my neighbor!”

Cleo scratched her head with her knife. “Well, okay, so I’ve been craving soup, absolutely craving it. And I heard that Pearl made soup, so I came over here, but she’s, well.” Cleo indicated broadly to Pearl, who had more drywall.

“Why didn’t you just go say hi? She’s just eating drywall.” Gem asked, like this was a perfectly normal thing to do.

“It seems kind of personal. Or something like that. You know, most people I know don’t eat drywall.”

Gem giggled. “Oh, well, that’s just Pearl for you. I’ve known her for a long time, and she’s always just been a little silly. Fighting demons, flipping houses upside down by herself, standing in a corner of my room watching me sleep. She’s a multi-faceted woman. Alien. Womalien. And she makes soup!”

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see her skitter up walls.” Cleo said. “You see new things every day, I guess.”

“Well, don’t worry, she’ll skitter her way right into your heart, even if she is a local menace.” Gem said, standing up. “Let’s stop being creepy and go get some soup.”

Gem kicked in the doors and Cleo followed her. “Pearl!!! Pearl!! Cleo wants some soup!”

Pearl fell off the ceiling and onto the kitchen table. “Well lucky for you i was just about to whip some up. Sit down, Cleo, and I’ll get you some. Gem, you have to help me.”

“What?? No I don’t!”

Cleo sat back and relaxed to ambient noises of Gem and Pearl squabbling. They both kept threatening to tell on the other to Impulse, which made Cleo laugh. And then the soup was done and it was really good soup. Not even a pinch of drywall.

When Mumbo came back from vacation, there was something distinctly off about him. Scar couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was something.

“Mumbo, what’s changed with you?” Scar asked, stroking his chin and walking a circle around the man.

“Oh, is my hair a mess?” Mumbo reached up worriedly to touch his hair.

“No… it’s not that… I just feel like your whole appearance is the same but different. New suit?”

“No, I just have multiple pairs of the same suit.” Mumbo replied.

“Oh, I got it!” Scar snapped his fingers. “You got a tan.” He eyed Mumbo closely. “No, wait, you actually look paler then before. How is that possible.”

Mumbo chuckled. “Oh, I see, I know what it is. Don’t worry, you’ll get there, Scar. Just keep thinking.”

Scar liked a challenge. So he kept following Mumbo around as he worked on his item river.

“Oh my god, you look like a vampire!” Scar gasped all of sudden. “Like, your pale and have a suit… that’s hilarious! That must be it, you look like a textbook vampire!”

Mumbo looked at Scar for a very long time. Scar looked back at him in confusion, and then gasped again, more dramatically.

“Oh my god you’re actually a vampire!”

“Duh.” Mumbo rolled his eyes. “Took you long enough- Grian has known this for three years already.”

“But, uh, vampires aren’t real! Like, and I’ll let you in on a trade secret here, but my ears are fake! I’m not a real elf!” Scar took his ears off to demonstrate.

“Isn’t that always how it is, though? We all play pretend with what we aren’t?” Mumbo smiled, and for the first time ever Scar noticed the very pointy teeth.

Scar covered his mouth with his hands. “How could I be so unobservant? This explains so much!”

“Well, I keep quiet about it, and you… well, you only have eyes for your copper, riches, and Jellie, let’s be honest.” Mumbo giggled.

Scar ignored that slight. He was already onto the next line of thought.

“But doesn’t the sun burn you?” Scar poked a finger at Mumbo’s hand. “Don’t vampires burn in the sun?”

“Well, yes, but I always carry protection.”

Scar frowned. “There’s no way you get bitches, I’m sorry.”

“No! Not that- Scar! Redstone dust! It’s like sunscreen for me! Don’t you wonder why im always covered in redstone dust? It helps keep the sun away from my skin.”

“Oh wow that’s so smart.” Scar was impressed. “Is being smart a vampire trait too?”

“Scar, I just went afk at a slime for a month and it didn’t work.”

“Maybe you scared the slimes away with your vampire powers!” Scar gasped.

Mumbo sighed. “Grian was right, you are even more of a menace now that you know.” He began walking away.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mumbo. I’m going to go do my research on your kind.” Scar was already rushing to spawn.

“Joe, I need all of your copies of twilight, asap!”

Joe looked up at him in confusion. “Like do you want the whole series or literally all of the copies of the book twilight?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, okay?” Joe handed him 10 copies of the book Twilight, and Scar ran off at once to read them.

Joe watched him go. “Oh wait.” He said to himself. “Did he just find out about Mumbo? I bet he did… I could have offered him the academic papers on vampires… maybe I should go give it to him?” He could see Scar, a blurry figure dropping books as he ran. “Nah, he’ll come back, it’s fine.” Joe decided, and sat back down. It wasn’t his problem.