#that was such a bad pun I’m sorry

[dukeofdadykes]

Who’s greenin out in the big apple; it’s Chappell!🗽

[sinisterdenial]

A toy who accepts suggestions given when you play with their tits?

Call that su-breast-ible.

Making your toy wearing a little hat with bells on?

They’re sub-jester-ble.

You use a shock collar as a trigger?

Surge-estible.

They have a weakness for tank tops?

Sugg-vest-ible.

A compulsion to pick up the cheque after the meal?

Suggesti-bill.

Particularly into hypnotic hucow play?

Suggesti-bull.

They get stuck only able to say yes and no?

Suggesti-bool.

Linking their mind to a metal ball and tossing it around a lawn?

Suggesti-boule.

[skullivan-the-dawg]

I’M SORRY FOR THESE I LOVE PUNS OKAY- @finleyforevermore @karosucks @mossy-paws @ash-does-theatre @https-envy @echodoesstuff62333 @colinthecatparent @the-starry-cove-of-an @thatboredaroace @fayewoods-2

[sandeewithtwoe]

Teo can play at this game, LEAF ATTACK!!!! >:3c

🍃🍃🍃🍂🍂🍂🍁🍁🍁🍂🍂🍂🍃🍃🍂🍃🍂🍃🌿🌿🌿🍁🍁🍁🍀☘️🍂🍁🍁🍃🍂🍁🍃🌿🌱🌿🦋🍁🍁🍁🍁🍂🍂🍂🍃🍃🍃🍂🍂🍂🌿🌿🌿🌿🍁🍁🍁🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍁🍁🌸🍁🍁🍁🍂🍂🍂🍃🍃🍃🌿🌿🌿🌿🌱🌱🌱🍀🍃🍃🍃🍂🍂🍂

Remember to eat your greens

[clearcloudlesssky]

me @ my chemistry nerd gf

hey do you think i’m boron

am i a good samarium

do you not appreciate my iron-y

are you not slapping your neon

i would tell you a good joke but all the best ones argon

should i zinc of a new joke

i’m sodium thoughtful aren’t i

you know most of these jokes were xenon television

hey girl are you gold cause you’re pretty au-some

alright these jokes are really boron, sorry for making you sulfur through them

might have to stop soon cause sleep is krypton up on me (but don’t worry, i’ve got my ion you)

[thesourpatchdemon]

Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing. if I cannot fly, let me sing.

[mostly-functional]

A man once walked into a lush national park with winding rivers, gorgeous wild flowers, and the tallest oak trees he’d ever seen. Fascinated by the trees, he walked over to them and began thinking out loud.

“How did they get so big?” He asked himself

Much to his surprise, the trees actually answered. They said “we’ll tell you if you do one thing for us.”

The man obviously had to know the origin of these huge talking trees, so he agreed.

“You need to go on a date with the actor who plays Leonard McCoy,” said the trees.

“No way!” The man yelled. “I’m happily married, I’m not going to start going out with him!”

The trees begged him to do it for them, but he kept refusing.

He just couldn’t see DeForest for the trees.

[crowcaws]

new moons are ruff

[shepards-folly]

Toadally Radical

[socialfilter]

I’m very (read: very) high rn so read all my burning (lol) questions/random thoughts about horizon that you can all answer in your own headcanons:

do you think you ever get people in tribes who defect from said tribe to go into another one? aside from fashav, jaxx (I guess) and fuck me, slaves, I wanna know if there’s like, an Oseram who talked his way into Carja nobility or something.

How successful is the fishing/farming economy in Horizon like…there’s obviously that boar farm and I’ve spotted a few fishing Carja outlanders by Kestrel’s Perch…but I wanna know if people are making livings out of that. We can’t all be machine hunters.

Do you think anyone has ever been squished by a Tallneck?

Do you think Tallnecks can run? (please god I hope they can’t - I would cry)

Not a question. Advice: Don’t try and override a Tideripper underwater. (I tried to do this when I was a little drunk and I’ve never been so frightened in all my life)

Is divorce a thing in this world?

I want to know who the Picasso is amongst the Tenakth. (it’s my golden boy Kotallo)

Give me Red Raid flashbacks.

I won’t lie, I had a dream where Meridian got razed and it gave me excellent hawk and thrush ideas (let’s burn Meridian DOWN!)

I want to know how far children in various tribes are allowed to wonder from their settlements. Obviously we had the whole situation with Yarra/Drakka where a kid went missing so I imagine not far but I wanna know if they’ve got some level of freedom.

On children, do tribes have midwives?

Give me more children’s tales (the Banuk and the Utaru gave me some but I must have MORE)

Let Erend find more Old Ones music. Let him find Taylor Swift. (Personally I think Kotallo would like Radiohead, but that’s jus’ me).

Seyka and Alva interact. Now.

I really want a quest where Aloy helps the wrong person, i.e she doesn’t get the full story and ends up complicit in somebody important’s murder.

somebody (me) needs to kidnap aloy.

I also need a proper red-light-full-alarm-fuck-me-she’s-gonna-blow scene where aloy needs to hoof it outta there (I need more intensity than thebes, much as I love thebes).

bring me more main quests like thebes. I love dropping into some big old place and being HORRIFIED (read: author had nightmares about GAIA Prime).

What do we think the bloodiest Aloy has ever gotten? That would be interesting.

Conscientious objectors must’ve been a thing during the Red Raids, right? (I suppose this is already proven but my question still stands).

Also may be already proven, what was the Oseram role in the Red Raids?

Why is everybody a cousin of Avad?

Let Ikrie be the unhinged Banuk that’s in the Forbidden West.

What does Ikrie do when Banuk who will obviously know who she is pitch up at the Hunting Grounds? Mighty awkward is it not?

Do we think, aside from the racing squads, a tribe might figure out how to ‘tame’ machines? we’re mighty fucking lucky that the machine racers are the good guys cos christ, they could wipe out some settlements with that kinda power.

Let Morlund fly in H3.

Let Talanah Khane Padish have a Sunwing in H3.

Do we think there’s some renowned legendary heroes for tribes that are not the Old Ones? Thinking along the lines of The Enduring, people like that…

I wanna know what certain tribes do with people with disabilities. With the Tenakth it’s certainly less than ideal 😐 and the Utaru are seemingly a little more humane about it. I imagine with the Banuk it’s probably death-related (that whole Survive, Prevail, bollocks). I wanna know what the Quen, the Oseram, the Carja and the Nora do.

Regarding a deaf character (which I won’t lie I was really hoping Seyka was bc I couldn’t find her VA until the day before BS came out), I want to know if their signing is similar to ours. When will we have deaf characters?

Why are there not more musicians amongst the tribes like…Korreh is currently the Hozier of the Utaru. You could easily have drummers from the Oseram. I know the Nora have got some kickass war songs (plus it’s proven they sing, as do the Utaru).

Why is it, on every quest that involves looking for somebody, they’re fucking dead?

Why does everybody have sisters?

I think Aloy has fantastic taste in music.

Do we think twins are seen as blessings or curses in different tribes?

Can H3 please send us to some more rural ruins? Author wants to be nosy in ancient houses.

Are there jewellers in Meridian?

What are some yearly festivals amongst tribes? Zo touched on Utaru ones but I must know more.

I want to know what warriors with allergies do? (I would be said soldier with allergies)

I want to know how many children in the Sundom/anywhere have been abducted by the Tenakth…or I at least wanna know what the hell Ullia was getting up to…

Piggybacking off that, surely there must be Tenakth soldiers/tribespeople that were born into different tribes and taken away…? That’s only if Ullia’s claim was true I guess.

Where did the cannibal rumour come from? (Obviously the Carja but who thought that up?)

Tell me more about the HZD and HFW prisons…

I want to know more about bandit motives. Obviously you stumble across small ambushes but then there’s whole camps like what are they doing there?

I would like to know more about Sunfall. They have wholeass slaves there. I imagine the whole slave situation is relative to the deal Vezreh had going on with the kidnapped Utaru.

Give me a character that’s deaf and travels with a hearing/signing companion please.

Do tribespeople have pets? (Surely it can’t just be Yarra)

What’s the deal with Yarra and Meat? Please tell me she found Meat as an abandoned baby or something…

I want to know if people are naming their weapons.

Do you think there’s like, a Banuk/any tribe shaman (besides Ourea) who is weirdly knowledgeable about Old Ones shit? Guy has no Focus but could tell you a whole lot about Ted Faro (I’m aware of who I’m describing but not That guy)

Where the fuck did Lel go?

I love that some settlements/campfires have little gossips that’ll give you a quest of some sort. Yes, give me the drama you saucy little minx.

Do you think people believe in ghosts? I think it’d be pretty cool if you heard the voices of the Old Ones as you were walking through valleys or rivers.

Less wrecked planes in H3 please. I love the idea but it just makes me uncomfortable.

More old battlefields in H3 please.

I think there should be some sort of ‘crawl’ effort going on. Aloy crouching is simply not enough.

Bring Furahni and/or the cool Sun-Priest back.

I love that some machines disappear. Like where’d you go? 😈

How do we think Beta is going to adapt to this new world?

Will anybody ever move Verbena’s body? Because it is literally…exactly where we left it.

Speaking of which: I want a closer look at Tenakth tags and Utaru seed pouches. I want to know what other tribes have.

Are sports (that are not hunting) a thing? I reckon the Carja are javelin throwers (it’s hunting related but ygm), the Oseram are most definitely boxers.

If Tenakth are painters, does that make the Quen the scribes or something?

What is the education system in the Horizon world? Obviously different to our time but like,,,,what would a parent do with a child that showed no aptitude for stitching or hunting or literally anything? Nothing good but I must know.

How common is disease in terms of death amongst tribes?

I loved Garokkah’s ‘In The Fog’ quest. Guess it shows that the Tenakth, despite their policies seemingly regarding the disabled, aren’t totally heartless when it comes to helping people within their tribe. That being said, it’s implied his daughters were trying to hide his illness. I wonder what happens to him?

I want to know more about the Odyssey.

I want to know more about Beta’s actual upbringing like…I know it was cold and horrible and heartless but I just want to know more about her.

Who the fuck piloted the Odyssey?

What happens to orphans in different tribes?

Give me more dumbass Tenakth teenagers.

I think the Utaru smoke their own brand of weed. The Carja definitely have a special spice. Tenakth? Paint-sniffers.

Do you think there’s tree surgeons?

WHAT ABOUT THE FREE REAL ESTATE?

Give me a Hunting Party kinda option like…i imagine this’ll happen in the Horizon Multiplayer but I wanna take out a little squad of Lowlanders and go and fuck that goddamn bear up

Holy shit, picture it. Sun-Nuns.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Mama Mia getting fat and happy. My youngest sibling has renamed her to Mini (fair, not only is sibling the new owner, but also the mechanics that I work with named her after a porn star [mia kalifa]) but renaming her was actually a really cute thing.

So, in my moms house, there are four animals and a teenager…

Teen: Em or M

Fur dog sister 1: chewy

Fur dog sister 2: cherry

Mama: Mini

Baby kitten: Maraschino

So you have a “mmmm mini chewy maraschino cherry”

I didn’t make the pun, and no, I’m not sorry.

[daddycephalopod]

I have a puns calendar on my work desk and I was updating it so it was on the right day today. I came across this gem:

[ray-elgatodormido]

Hello

I wrote some dumb stuff but in my defence my schedule for today is a 8am to 17pm

Title: Sold to Wei Direction

Rating: Teen for alcoholism and mentions of human trafficking (might change if needed)

Characters: Cao Cao, Xiaosheng (OC), Original male character(s)

Summary: Xiaosheng gets sold to five men.

Read on AO3

[crowtrobotx]

Okay I really do promise that I have an actual cohesive story I want to tell via a multi chapter fic but I was seized by this idea last night and I needed to get it out lest it drive me mad. This one’s for all my fellow Heisendad/Dadsenberg maniacs.

🦋⚙️

This is Not a Drill

Character: Karl Heisenberg, original character (daughter)

Warnings: None, unless you are uncomfortable with swearing.

Word count: 1974

Summary: Karl loses track of his kid and finds her up to something very near and dear to his heart.

Karl was in a rare mood.

Rare, meaning that he wasn’t stalking around the dark corridors of his factory, shouting obscenities at the reanimated corpses going about their assigned duties and simmering over all of this week’s “family” nonsense.

The sunshine and for once not abysmally cold weather had him working with the factory doors wide open, enjoying the warm breeze and natural light that cast the entry room in a warm, amber glow. Of course, nothing about his activities beneath the surface was apparent to any prying eyes. As far as anyone would think, he was working on repairing a tractor for one of the farmers in the village - not out of the goodness of his heart, of course, but because Mommy dearest periodically made him perform these acts of charity to encourage the peons to keep the faith. Annoying, pointless, but he’d grown used to the humiliation as the decades slipped by.

Used to it, but not at peace with it.

The radio on his workbench emitted a staticky jazz ballad, one that had him swaying subconsciously while he toiled. He never sang along, having been reminded loudly and frequently that he was completely tone deaf, but here in the relative privacy of his home he could at least dance a little. His hat and coat discarded and his hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail, Heisenberg tried not to think about how in another life he might have been just like this - tightening the same bolt, listening to the same tune.

Only in that world, he wouldn’t have had so much - his dignity, his pride, his love - taken from him.

Karl stepped back from the machine, wiping his brow on the back of his hand. The music began to fade out, leaving him briefly alone with his precarious thoughts. In the moments between the end of the song and the next, he caught a rather suspicious noise coming from the junkyard out front.

A loud clang followed by a dull thud, like two metallic objects colliding and falling to the ground.

“Lottie?”

No response. He glanced over his shoulder, looking for any sign of the tiny human he was supposed to be keeping alive. Heisenberg knit his brows and gently rolled the cigar between his lips. She knew she was supposed to stay where he could keep an eye on her, but there was no one and nothing to be seen. Of course, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been completely preoccupied with this job for the last hour - so much so that a certain someone could have easily slipped away.

Dammit.

He straightened himself with a groan before haphazardly tossing down his wrench and striding outside, squinting in discomfort against the bright sunlight that he was by no means used to enduring. Maybe living like a hermit underground wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but that was a bridge he would cross another time. Right now he had to find his feral offspring.

It was possible that she was still inside somewhere, but doubtful. Unless a varcolac had dug a hole under the fence again, he couldn’t think of who might be causing the ruckus aside from Lottie. No one got in or out of his domain without him noticing, and there were select few individuals capable of forcing their way through his gates against his will - but, God, he did not want to deal with that today.

Karl scanned his property, hands akimbo. Everything looked normal - or, as normal as it could possibly be in an isolated cult town. He could hear the rush of water from the nearby river over the cacophony of noises coming from inside, and nothing looked out of place—

Except for the conspicuously placed pile of scrap sitting separate from the rest of his collection.

A thin sheet of metal levitated shakily from nearby in the yard, only to be tossed by an unseen force in the general direction of the rest of the items. Karl snorted, relaxing his shoulders. Thank goodness. This had to have a good explanation.

“Hard at work, Butterfly?” he called into the mayhem.

The very top of Lottie’s head popped up from behind the rusted out corpse of a motorcycle. He could just see her surprised little eyes underneath her dusty goggles. Her presumably guilty expression quickly gave way to one of smug determination, even managing to throw in an audible little huff of annoyance at having been interrupted.

“Yes.” She did not elaborate.

“Uh huh,” Karl walked casually closer, the smoke from the end of his cigar obscuring his already less than perfect vision. “Anything I can help with?”

“No!”

He paused. Oh, she was definitely up to something. His thoughts fractured into a million possible schemes of how to pry it out of her, before deciding that a good old fashioned guilt trip should do the trick.

“Aww, don’t be like that. I thought we were pals! We have a secret handshake and everything,” he did his best to play up the sorrow in his voice. “You wouldn’t keep a secret from your best buddy Papa, would you?”

This time there was a loud sigh. For a moment, he thought she was going to leave him in the dark - something she had never done but a fear that gnawed on his brain stem on some particularly lonely nights nonetheless. He didn’t notice himself holding his breath, bracing for a blow that never came.

“I’m making a hammer,” she explained at last, reappearing closer to his position at the side of an old tank. “You know… like yours. I’m trying to find stuff to use for it. I was gonna surprise you.”

A hammer? The bristles at the edge of Karl’s mustache twitched. A by now familiar warmth bloomed somewhere deep in his chest, although it was tempered by the fact that he knew he should be dissuading her from crawling around in the tetanus garden that was the outside of their home. Not because of the tetanus, of course - because despite what anyone said there was order in the chaos of the factory grounds and she was probably going to move something out of place. And then, when he got around to using it - which he would, totally, he did not have a problem - he would have to waste precious time trying to figure out where a six year old might stash something.

“A hammer, huh.” Karl scratched his beard, feigning disinterest. “I’m flattered, kid, but don’t you think you’re a little small to be carrying something that heavy?”

Lottie threw an old horseshoe toward her stockpile. It landed with a thump in the grass next to the other objects - most of which were unidentifiable, probably bits torn from bigger pieces. She was wearing a comically too large pair of his old gloves and her curls had begun to escape from their confinement in the buns atop her little head, making her look not unlike the world’s smallest mad scientist.

“I don’t have to carry it for real! I’ll just cheat, like you,” she said frankly.

Karl scoffed. “Cheat?”

“I know you use your powers to lift yours, Papa. Don’t be embarrassed. You’re old and tired, it happens.” Lottie disappeared again into the heaps of metal.

The cigar nearly fell out from between Karl’s lips. He gaped in her direction, unsure if he was feeling shame or offense or pride. It made sense that she’d have noticed - she could probably detect the disruptions in his magnetic field well enough, now. But that didn’t mean she had to call him out like this!

“Young lady,” he began, panicked, unsure of his next move. Chastise her for her bluntness? Point out that he had aged like a fine wine, thank you very much? Ground her for — wait, how did you ground a kid who didn’t leave the house anyway?

“D-don’t… don’t go spreading that around, okay? Okay?” He craned his neck, trying to figure out where she’d scurried off to. “Not because it’s true, but because it’s most certainly not true! Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

“Papa!” His daughter burst out from yet another location, making Karl wonder if he’d fathered a human or a little rat, weaving her way through the tight, sharp spaces with apparent ease.

She bolted up to him, looking up into his face with manic excitement. It was a contagious energy that made most of Karl’s angst over her prior observation dissipate instantly, finding it impossible to not be dragged along behind her enthusiastic pull. Lottie’s eyes were sparkling with mischief as she held up a tiny blowtorch, long since out of commission. “Do we have one of these but bigger?”

“Bigger? Like a damn flamethrower? Who do you think I am, of course I’ve got a few of those.” ‘Do I have a flamethrower,’ psh.

“Good. I want my hammer to shoot fire.” It was said as calmly as if she were simply pointing out the weather.

“Whoa! Hold your horses, Butterfly!” Karl snatched the tool from her hands and held it just out of reach. “Not only does that sound pretty unsafe for a little runt like you, but why would I help you out when you just insulted your dear old dad? This sounds like a you problem, sweetheart.”

Lottie pouted. She really pouted, her lower lip trembling and posture shrinking into that of a kicked kitten. Her chubby cheeks were dirtied with oil stains, no doubt from her rummaging, making her look not unlike some stereotypical street urchin from one of the old movies he kept locked away in his personal quarters.

“Because,” she whined, “if we both have hammers, then we can annoy your brother and sisters double!”

Karl let himself smile in earnest this time, unable to let himself keep acting like he wasn’t absolutely going to help her on her little project.

Damn, why didn’t I think of that? Kid’s going places. Still probably shouldn’t let her have something she could immolate herself with… then again, she’s a smart cookie. I got into worse at her age. Hmm. But would the flames come from the top or the sides…?

His head was suddenly swimming with visions of himself and Lottie sneaking out during one of Alcina’s god awful opera performances, using their makeshift weapons to smash those gaudy vases, torching the hideous curtains and stealing one of her unfathomably expensive lipsticks to put some real art on the walls.

“Okay. Deal. But we’re not putting fuel in it until you’re at least eight.” Heisenberg was a responsible parent, after all.

“Ugh, fine,” Lottie grumbled, apparently unhappy with the arrangement but able to recognize that it was the best she was going to get. “Help me carry this stuff inside, would ya?”

With a smirk and a flick of his hand, all of the junk levitated and obediently hovered gracefully around Karl like a metal cloud. He gestured her to follow him, unsurprised to watch her instead go tearing off faster than her short legs could carry her. The tractor could wait. It would be easy to throw the Duke under the bus if Miranda asked, claim he was waiting on a special part. Building a hilariously oversized murder device was much more important than being the bitch’s workhorse.

“Hurry up, Papa!”

Karl chuckled and made his way toward Lottie, the cogs in his brain already overheating with ideas of what else they could do with her hammer. Chainsaw? No, that might make it too unwieldy. A drill? Absolutely not, he needed those for the army.

“Hey!” he called suddenly, “what would you think about putting a propeller on it? Like—”

“Like what you did with Sturm?” Lottie finished his sentence before pausing in the doorway and looking back at him with a hint of exasperation.

“Please, Papa - I’m not crazy.”

[chanceofwhat]

Four people are working together to fix a small table. While the two more savvy ones are fitting pieces together, people A and B are off to the side.

A looks at B, holding up a small L-shaped bit of metal,

“Is it called an Allen Wrench or an Allen Key?”

After a moment of thought, B takes the tool with a smile,

“Al-envestigate!”

Then they turn to the other two, who are currently struggling to attach pieces. B waves for their attention, then holds out the tool,

“Here! I don’t mean to throw a wrench in your plans— key-p going!”

They both laugh. Unsatisfied, A jumps in,

“I don’t get it. What’s the joke?”

The answers are simultaneous:

“Get it? Wrench?”

“Get it? Key?”

The two (C and D respectively) pause and look at one another in confusion.

“Key?” “Wrench?”

“This is thoroughly unhelpful!”

A buries their face in their hands and groans in frustration. B pats their shoulder.

“Don’t worry. Allend this. Guys, which is it, Wrench or Key?”

“Well it doesn’t look like a key!”

“Well it doesn’t look like a wrench!”

A stands, knocks over the table in frustration, and leaves the room with a final shout,

“I can’t stand you people!”

C and D shrug.

“Well, sure looks like they can stand.”

“I don’t under-stand the problem.”

B laughs with them,

“Eh, they were always a little uns-table.”

[greetings-inferiors]

@tokinanpa’s heart beats sometimes

Call that ときどき