#or rather:

[gutsheapofrawiron]

in the genderbend case where bingjie has a male harem and not a lesbian paradise palace situation going on I think the men should all be AT LEAST at liu qingge level of male beauty. nothing less than that

[saltavenegar]

ENDLESS LIGHTYEARS ON

THE SILVER RAYS OF STARS AMAZE

[applepi00]

I have variant skins/new game+ costumes of me and @slab-bananaburger because I find them funny, and is it really a survival horror game if you don't unlock some dumb outfit after beating it once? (more under the cut)

[daftpatience]

slow down for your disabled friends. thats like a bare minimum kindness that we shouldnt have to ask for. i love that youre so quirky and walking fast is a cool personality trait to you and all that but i bet you can count your physically disabled friends on less than one hand

[kawareo]

Art snobs are actually a thousand times less annoying than people who respond to everything with "it's not that deep bro"

[un-pearable]

dear universe give me ten billion dollars and infinite free time and indestructible hands so i can do every hobby ever

say hi to knuckles everyone

[inbabylontheywept]

so once me and my wife were watching a documentary where a snake ate like a million eggs. that snake just went to fucking town on eggs. and the snake made the eggs look so good that i kept thinking about it, and thinking about it, and thinking about it, and eventually it was 11pm and i ran out of willpower and decided to eat one (1) singular raw egg just to prove to myself that the snake was surely a liar.

the snake was not a liar. texture is like, super important to me and raw eggs are very Texture so i had another one, and then another one, and then another one, and eventually i ran out of eggs.

i had like, fifteen raw eggs.

i didnt really know how to explain this momentary madness to my wife, so my Plan was to put all the eggshells into a grocey bag, and then throw that grocery bag in the dumpster, and if she never noticed that would be Excellent and if she noticed immediately i could lie and say that the eggs went bad.

except i cant lie very good, and of course with murphys law being such, i got salmonella.

so i threw up a lot and my wife asked me what poisoned me so and i tried very hard to dodge the question but i was oozing shame like oil from a room temperature cheese and eventaully i gave in and told her everything and to her enormous credit she was more flabbergasted than actually upset. she did make me promise to not eat any more raw eggs, which i have stuck to, and she gives me weird looks during nature documentaries now as if desire was the only thing keeping me from eating thousands of pounds of krill anyway i made a joke earlier about being able to eat my age in eggs and my sister in law in law made a drawing to comemorate the moment and also because it was my birthday. she's excellent. thank you 10000000% @cintailed. you should all visit her page and admire her work.

[kochei0]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[tawnysoup]

Finally now that the comic is fully public on comicfury, I get to share it with all of you here, too <3

If you enjoyed, please consider supporting by buying a PDF of the comic on itch.io: https://tawnysoup.itch.io/home-in-the-woods

[snow-system-wol]

[The background for Proserpina, an alter that is from an AU of Snowverse.] (~1k)

Prose remained hunched on the chair she'd tucked in the corner. She was warmer with her legs pulled in close to her chest, true, but it also just felt more comfortable. Perhaps it'd be more pleasant if she moved a touch closer to the fire, but that's where the others were.

Oh, she was not a fool, nor was she bereft of shared memories. She knew who those people were.

Or rather, she knew who S'ria thought they were, and she knew who she worried they might be.

Prose gave the trio another sidelong glance, unsurprised to catch a pair of eyes flicking in her direction. It was unusual behavior for S'ria to act like this, she understood. But he was not present, and Prose would not act as though he was. She'd rather save her energy for watching S'ria's supposed allies and seeing if anything went wrong. She tucked her chin more snugly against her knees, fighting the urge to look again.

Tataru, a kind and resourceful receptionist.

(No one who had a responsibility to S'ria, though, she had no real reason to protect S'ria if given better offers.)

Alphinaud, a boy that was doing his best to help the world and improve himself, leaving privileged roots behind.

(A spoiled and arrogant one, dragging all of them into a trap that S'ria had only seen the strings of when it was too late to change anything.)

Haurchefant, a loyal friend and determined ally, altruistically offering shelter.

(Need she even say it? She knew what he'd want, if possible.)

Prose huffed quietly, eyeing the platter of food a short distance away. She really needed to manage something at least, to feel better. Maybe she could take it back to her borrowed room, where she'd stop getting nervous looks for at least a few minutes.

Prose was so focused on the nearby food and her own ruminations that she nearly fell off the chair with a yelp when something nudged her. She frantically looked down, and –

She knew what this was, S'ria had seen it. A strange dark creature, shiny and sparkly at the edges – but gods was it cute. Its tiny mouth and dark shiny eyes, Prose just wanted to…

She half expected it to bite her, but as she reached out, it gently headbutted her hand instead. It was warm – warm in a strange way, like a piece of machinery that was only just recently shut off – and mostly soft to the touch. It felt not like fur, yet somehow not unlike fur.

It chittered and trilled at her, pushing its face harder into her hand and nudging her feet. Prose hesitantly lowered her legs and immediately had a comfortable weight on her lap. The carbuncle didn't weigh as much as it looked like it should, but it was enough that she could feel it.

Prose couldn't help but giggle at the curious creature clambering onto her and its adorable squeaks.

“She is not bothering you, is she?”

Prose jumped and wrapped her arms around the carbuncle. When had she been approached? Alphinaud was now knelt not far from her, eyes fixed on the familiar that Prose held.

Prose opened her mouth to respond, but the words died in her throat. She hasn't spoken before – what was it meant to feel like, to say what she wanted and express herself in a voice that could be her own? It didn't feel good. She closed her mouth and insistently shook her head. Prose held the carbuncle closer to her chest, looking at Alphinaud nervously. He shuffled back a short ways, giving her a smile that she could only interpret as relieved.

“You are quite welcome to hold onto her for a time, until she is needed.” His expression turned to one tinged with guilt. “It has been a difficult few days. Please do whatever helps the most. Mayhap in the future I could teach you how to summon your own, if that would be of assistance.”

Prose nodded eagerly with wide eyes. She could have her own? One that she wouldn't have to give back when Alphinaud said so?

“I can see about acquiring a spare grimoire as soon as possible for your own use, you shall need one before theory is even finished being taught.” He cleared his throat. “However… would you be willing to join us over where the room is warmer, S'ria? I can carry your food over, if you would rather keep my carbuncle in your arms.”

“Proserpina.”

She was right – it did feel awkward to actually speak, though not impossible.

“Er – pardon?”

“Not S'ria. I'm Prose.”

Alphinaud paused, glancing nervously back at Tataru and Haurchefant, as though uncertain of how to proceed.

“V-very well. Proserpina it is.”

She cautiously followed him to sit far closer to the group. The carbuncle flopped onto her legs, basked in the fire’s warmth, and she knew she could not possibly move away now. Instead, she settled in, snatching a piece of bread from the plate set beside her.

As Alphinaud sat back down, she turned her attention to him – calmer, mind finally feeling clearer again. She spoke again – no less halting and awkward, but far less scared and high-pitched.

“Please.” Prose reached out to tap on his holstered grimoire. “Explain.”

She did not speak again for the next several bells, only, gently pointed and tilted her head in lieu of asking questions, but Alphinaud would be damned if he said Proserpina wasn't one of the quickest studies he'd seen.

(That only left the mystery of who the hells Proserpina was.)

(Several suns later – if one could even call them that in the weather currently gracing Camp Dragonhead – S'ria was acting back like his usual self again. When Alphinaud attempted to politely broach the topic, S'ria froze, staring blindly past Alphinaud for a long moment. Once he recovered, he asked for a few hours alone – ‘to think’, he'd said, and that he'd explain after.)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

You're just not toxic enough.

[necromimetics]

can’t stop thinking about my friend’s cishet partner who said last night that he doesn’t think anyone is the same gender. god-tier take.

[corrodedparadox]

Handposting

[la-gotica-fantasma]

“We’re in a fanfic drought” Tell the writers you like their work.

“All Tumblr ever does is write oneshots now” Tell the writers that you’d love to see them write longer things.

“Nobody updates their fics anymore” Tell the writers you love the fic and want to see more of it.

Tell the writers.

Edit: I’ve had to turn off reblogs because this post has gotten popular enough that I’ve seen hate. I adore all of the stories you lovelies had shared, I read them all. :)