#these are fresh off the press

[bloosemood]

Y’all know I love a good horn filter

[portsandstars]

[chongoblog]

I’m always the first to say “cringe culture is dead”

But I’d pay money to never exeperience the emotions I felt reading this ever again

[desperate-baitmeat]

maybe you should make fun of me for how sensitive my tits are :3

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript: No, you're not an icon.

You're not a slay queen or an e-boy.

*pause for dramatic effect*

You're a sinner.

Original post being referenced

Audio source (Twitch)

[tunastime]

UM UM UM “staying up until midnight to talk” with SEN or DBHC ethubs or docsuma

Or “pull me closer,” with dbhc docsuma :floshed:

Okay skitters away

staying up until midnight to talk (919 words) (x) (:3c)

Etho’s hands follow a practiced rhythm. He isn’t sure how they wouldn’t, with every wire and mechanism and gear in his body perfectly calibrated to move with precision and within expectation. He certainly fails, and jerks, and stutters, and falls, but base programming, movements that fell perfectly into subroutines he couldn’t even begin to trace, even if Xisuma showed him the exact steps? Of course they were perfect. And of course he never faltered.

The sand beneath him offers a much needed cushioning from the hard, winter dirt, despite the fact that the sun provides little warmth to the air around them in the snow fort. The sky is so blue it makes his eyes strain to look at—and maybe it would hurt, if he knew how it was supposed to feel.

Instead, Etho watches patches of sky blue in the silver-warped reflection of his sword, faint flickers of enchantment pulsing out from the hilt where the hastily carved runes sit. He runs the sharpening stone against the blade’s flat edge, careful not to nick the silicon of his fingers as he scrapes it across, again, and again. Practiced, careful, calculated rhythm. So much so that he doesn’t even register the sounds of shuffling a few paces away until Bdubs’ voice cuts through the silence.

“Etho,” he says, voice all rough around the edges like he were hungry for something more than just company. Etho keeps sharpening, just for a moment, before he chances a glance over.

Bdubs leans at the wooden fence, leaning his weight into the flimsily-set posts. He grins like nothing in the world could bother him. The characteristic dark brown of his eyes flickers with red, with that same hunger. Etho hates it. Which is odd. Because he really doesn’t feel strongly about much of anything, and disgust is an emotion very foreign to him, and he’s beginning to think the slight grinding in his chest is a problem Xisuma might need to diagnose when he gets back. It feels wrong. Because he knows he likes Bdubs just fine. He trusts him just enough. But that look.

Bdubs is still watching him, eyeing the sword in his hand with a gaze he can’t place, let alone read. Better give him an answer.

“Bdubs,” he says calmly, tilting his head to the side.

“You thought anymore about my offer?”

Etho makes a sound like a hum, mimicking the sound of turning the idea over in his head. He stands, setting his whetstone next to the cold embers of last night’s fire. The pot and cups still rest in the dirt, as cold as the rest of their surroundings. The sword stays in his hand.

(In the back of his mind, a memory surfaces. In it, Etho lies in the night-damp grass in clothes that still smell a bit like gunpowder, but not enough to notice unless you got real close. Bdubs is somewhere to his immediate left, still speaking, haloed in the glow of lanterns and lights of a shop. One of them at least. Within the clarity of memory, Etho can pinpoint that it’s Tango’s shop. Bdubs doesn’t live far from here. He isn’t sure when waiting for Tango to restock candles turned into tell Etho all about the extra additions to your base and your journey to find all the perfect horses for the Horse Course that you both just wrapped up, or into tell Bdubs all about how empty the mountain is, and how interesting this new game sounds, and how you hope you both find somewhere cool to base. Because you’ve already told him that you’re teaming up. But it does, and in this same space, the sky is full of bright white stars and a sliver of a moon that's starting to peek into the sky. Bdubs yawns.)

“The one from last night?” Etho asks, coming to with the sword heavy in his hand. He pushes the point into the soft sand until it hits hard earth and starts to give.

“You don’t gotta keep this fence, Etho…” Bdubs sighs, leaning his head into his palm. Etho folds his arms across his chest, splays one hand as he shrugs.

“Seems like the best way to settle this, ‘Dubs.”

“You could join me. Could always still join me,” Bdubs tries. “Just a quick one-two stab! Easy!”

“I can’t do that,” Etho says, shaking his head. “You know that.”

Bdubs sighs again, dramatic, deflating over the fence as Etho’s rejection stands firm. The thirium in his chest feels like it’s been flash frozen and has only started to dethaw, cold in his hands and feet, up his shins and to his elbows. He rolls his shoulders in, cupping each hand around each opposite elbow. There’s a little warmth to be found in the action with no fans kicking on to compensate.

“Well,” Bdubs says, drumming on the wooden beam between the two fence posts. “If you ever change your mind.”

He watches Etho for a moment, that familiar look coming to his eyes, as if it were trying to eclipse the haze of red Bdubs looks at him through, as if it were trying to expand his tunnel vision by just a fraction of an inch. Just as Etho notices, it’s snuffed, and the easy, careful look is replaced by an indifference Etho doesn’t think he enjoys. He still isn’t sure how much he knows for certain. He shrugs, barely a movement at all. Better say something.

“I won’t,” he says.

Bdubs huffs and turns away.

[marclef]

i present some wholesome Fakeys hanging out with friends for this Fake Peppino Friday, please enjoy ✨

[sweetbunpura]

Guess who's back~

Back again~

Angst is back~

Tell a friend~

*slides down shades* Anywhoooooo, Angst Anon here with another agn~sty idea!

Jehan (the son) falls into the universe where Yuu is infertile. She has yet to tell Rollo she is infertile. Pain ensues.

Rollo & Yuu are surprised to see they had a child, a well-behaved boy who loved his parents. Rollo was skeptical at first, wondering where Jehan came from, but it dampened when he learned that he was here due to mixing stuff around in Adult Rollo's potion room. But Yuu... Yuu's looking at Jehan with something neither Rollo nor Jehan could understand.

"If you're wondering if this could be our child, he has named things that both you and I have prior knowledge about." Rollo sits with her one morning at the kitchen table.

Yuu was silent, her eyes focused on Jehan and Grim as they played in the lounge area. Jehan had her hair, Rollo's eyes, her skin tone. Everything was pointing to him being their kid and yet...

"He's not from me."

"Beg pardon?" Rollo raised an eyebrow. "We are his parents."

"If he's our son, he's not from me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Rollo..." She takes a deep breath and turns to face him hesitantly. "I'm infertile. Jehan's not from our timeline, but a different one."

Rollo was silent, eyes moving from her to Jehan and then back to her. All the time he had seen Yuu act and move, not once had he seen her this nervous.

"Don't leave..." Her voice was quiet and she had a white knuckled grip on her mug. "I've heard hundreds of cases that my mom handled about guys finding out the woman they married is infertile and leaving them. Calling them defective and shit, t-that they invested all this time into loving someone that couldn't give them a family. Telling them that they're broken, useless... Stop staring at me like I'm the elephant in the room and say something. Anything. Please."

Rollo had never seen her this worried, this nervous, this reluctant to hear an answer. Due to the nature of NRC, Rollo knows Yuu doesn't trust words, so he does the one thing he knows she'll understand. Rollo gets up and pulls Yuu in for a hug, pressing kiss after kiss to her face as she trembled in his arms.

"To leave over something like this says more about the person. That they didn't love you for you, they loved you for the idea of what your body could give them." Rollo speaks softly, using his voice to soothe her. "You grew to love me for every fault I had after everything I did. I love you for everything you've given me and I wouldn't dream of leaving you over this. Not in a million years, nor a million lifetimes."

He rubs her tears away. "And anyone who tells you otherwise has to deal with my wrath and those of your friends."

Yuu gives a small laugh. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I wanted to hear that."

He gently kisses her, which she returns, and brings her in for another hug.

[adhd-merlin]

some Lancelot memes for my fellow Lancelot fan @sapphickittykatherine ♡♡♡

[synthrocket]

Four sends some anonymous mail

[marguerite-pizza]

two flightless birds

[albino-parakeet]

Skytober Day 9 Moth (Eoraptor)

My other Skytober drawings

[savage-rhi]

A newly hatched allosaurus based on the recent peer reviews that dropped:

[minnowfarming]

[mimbys]

[skybristle]

lighthouse oil [void fluid] rig iterator ...... lighthuse oil rig iterator ................................. i have a Vision rn