#idk how that happened

[xxlegitcookiezxx]

Breaking news: Digital rabbit manifests in the real world solely to slap a little boy in the face.

—

Based on an exchange with @gemstoneandtriangle while we were playing Security Breach.

[seashoreships]

For every different drawing app I get a new art style is applied to it

[taikk0]

omafucking god they fuckin dead

[mcyt-dogs]

Floof of the Technoblade variety! (Source: Mr. Technodad's First Ever stream on Techno's channel; the man sitting in the couch is EvanMCGaming and the handsome fella fiddling with cables behind it is Technodad himself)

IM SO SORRY I MISSED THIS???

[the-ominous-owl]

the sentient halo au, she is complete

The Halo doesn’t like the warehouse.

It’s the first thing Ava notices as she follows Bea inside, still reeling slightly from their moment against the jeep, from the intensity, then sudden lack thereof. Bea still hasn’t looked at her, and her brief, loaded exchange with Michael had ignited an ache in Ava’s chest that Ava doesn’t know how to deal with. She wants, desperately, to catch Bea’s arm, to drag her back outside, to make the kind of dangerous promises Ava has no way to keep, promises like I’ll never leave you or Everything’s going to be okay.

But she can’t, because the Halo doesn’t like the warehouse. It’s buzzing nervously under Ava’s skin to urge her forward, so instead of hooking her arm around Bea’s waist and dragging her away, Ava just follows her inside, adjusting her pace until they’re walking side-by-side and trying to ignore the way the Halo had started shivering against her spine the moment she’d crossed the threshold and hasn’t stopped yet.

Inside, the warehouse is sparse but not empty, and not unoccupied. Stacks of wooden pallets and ancient, rusting shipping containers serve as perches and leaning posts for just under a dozen people, all of whom are masking varying levels of anxiety under a thin veneer of affected insouciance. They perk up when Michael enters, but their enthusiasm visibly dims when they catch sight of Ava and Beatrice behind him, each expression shifting to land somewhere along a spectrum of curiosity and concern.

The one standing in the centre of the space – a woman that Ava vaguely recognises from the bar – shifts to the side as Michael approaches, revealing the man behind her isn’t standing so much as hanging from his bound hands, suspended from a crane hook and looking surprisingly unbothered by it.

read on ao3

[yuri-ambassador]

It was a practice study and it quickly turned into Eva

[koolaidashley]

Damn I posted the video twice ??? I’m not gonna delete it whatever twice the joy for u guys

[abeoo]

comparing the kids

i always thought it was uncanny how different npc kids and playable kids look in genshin, they (models of the kids) look like they come from 2 different games. i'm so glad it's not the case with honkai star rail.

[ashleys-coffin]

Uh

[end-of-the-sketchbook]

These are now officially my favorite tags from my NieR: RepliCant comic, hold on real quick while I...

The "protagonist of a fantasy story where my sister was either possessed, kidnapped, or both!" gang

Technically, M!Byleth comes pretty close to being in the gang, too, if you count all those AUs where the two Byleths are siblings

[paracosmicessence]

this is your usernamed zoomd out,

this is your user name zoomed in...

WHAT

LMAO HOW ⁉️⁉️

[andr0nap]

a clown caravan found family that consists of a vengeful thief, his mare that has done nothing wrong ever, an annoying royal brat that wont leave him alone and a horse (allegedly)

[spencerwatchestoons]

“the skrunkly ever <33” and it’s a (presumably) middle-aged woman

[doujinprotag]

Post the same lewd twice and I like it both times 👍

shh u didnt see anything... rest now... shsh.....

[slip-slop-slap-seek-slide]

Childhood Follies

England sat down with a thump, old but faithful springs groaning under his weight as he joined Wales on the lounge. “Australia is in the tree again.”

Wales looked up from his reading, some clichéd murder mystery that he’d picked up on the advice of Scotland, but was increasingly finding too outlandish for his tastes, grateful for the distraction as he raised an eyebrow.

“What, again? Isn’t this the third time-”

“This month? I know.” England sighed, normally sharp edges and quick eyes lulled to softness in the face of thoughts of his children, as exasperating as they could be. For not the first time, Wales thought about how much Fatherhood suited him, how children seemed to bring out a strange calmness in him, especially fascinating after long centuries of watching his brother divulge in non-stop warfare, covering himself in blood and cruelty.

“You’d honestly think we were starving the child of all entertainment.” England grumbled, unknowing of his brother’s thoughts, and Wales blinked, tilting his head up.

“Maybe Australia is just adjusting to the different environment,” Wales suggested lightly, although Australia had been “adjusting” to Britain for around five years now, and showed no signs of stopping any of his antics, tree climbing or otherwise.  England grimaced, the pointed furrow of his brows indicating he had come to the same conclusion, and crossed his arms, looking skyward as if any answers had ever come from heaven, despite the numerous bloody wars fought in his name.

“Right, and I’m sure the mud the maids found poured into the bathtub was just Australia “adjusting to the different environment” as well.” He said with a snort, back straight in a way that betrayed how much he wanted to sink down and join Wales in his relaxed position, but couldn’t for the sake of propriety.

English manners, honestly, Wales thought in exasperation and with a well concealed smirk, before blinking at his brother’s sentence.

“Did he really?”  England grimaced in reply. “Apparently, a toad managed to find it’s way in with the mud as well. It gave Edna quiet the fright.”

Edna was the head maid of the household, a quiet but dutiful women, stern with the children but an old hand at dealing with the follies of childhood. She was good at her job, made better by asking very little questions about the nature of the master’s she served. Wales had trouble picturing anything frightening her.

He grinned at his brother instead. “Playing with mud? Climbing on trees? I wonder who he got that from.”

England raised an eyebrow in response, frowning as if to dismiss the idea entirely. “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? No memories of skulking through the trees like a particularly determined monkey, or shoving mud down the backs of our tunics? I remember mother-”

Wales stopped suddenly, shutting his mouth at once and looking at his brother, whose frame had grown as tense as a bow string at his words, his eyes darkening. He cursed himself slightly. 

England’s warm veneer of companionship these past few months had lulled him  into a false sense of security, despite all the practice he had had after the long years he had been by his brother’s side. A conquest, not a partnership.

Childhood, or as close to it they could get as nations, was a tricky subject to approach, especially without the presence of alcohol already at hand, and doubly so for mentioning their mother. 

Wales cleared his throat, trying desperately to come up with words to soften the blow, or change the subject.

“Well,” He said instead, awkwardly. “That is to say-”

“I suppose I was a bit of a brat.” England interrupted, and Wales blinked, whipping his head up from where he had dropped his gaze to the floor to avoid looking at his brother.

England was staring incredibly hard at the window, a faint tint of red down his cheeks, his body still stiff but slightly curled in on himself, and Wales realized that this was England attempting to be civil.

“You-” He started, unsure of what he was going to say himself before England cut him off, defensive but undoubtedly calm.

“But really, most of the time you all deserved it. And it was ever so funny watching Rome stumble about in the forest, trying to find me but with never the presence of mind to look up.” England delivered this with a certain smugness, and Wales found himself smiling, just a little.

Sometimes through the centuries, that comment would of gotten him poisonous looks and sharp rebukes, other’s still a decade of silence. At very bad times, violence would be had. 

Now the only thing it got him was England, slightly embarrassed but still characteristically himself, stubbornness and all. 

Wales hoped fervently that it was a sign for the times to come. He would always love his little brother, (a trait that had betrayed him in the past) but sometimes it was easier than others.  

“You’re admitting that tree climbing is a useful skill? Why, I should go find Australia now and tell him the good news!” Wales made to stand, as if to physically go find the boy right then and there, but was foiled by his brother’s pale hand shoving him back down with a huff.

“Oh, focus on that why don’t you.” England grumbled, the tension of the earlier conversation washed away with the familiar banter. “Besides, I was hardly the only one who used such tactics.” This was said with a significant look at Wales, and he grinned.

“Yes, but I never denied it.” 

England aimed a bony elbow into Wales’ gut, and Wales laughed, shifting himself on the lounge and picking up his book to once more try and struggle through it’s ridiculous plot. With a role of his eyes England also picked up his own project, a lovely piece of embroidery that absorbed all his attention as they continued on in comfortable silence, a pleasant night made possible only through the years of understanding between them.

The next day, after nervously presenting himself to England’s study for the deliverance of his punishment, Australia was baffled to find himself waved away without rebuke, only a small reminder to apologize to the maids.

“But why?” he asked Wales later, confused and a little skeptical.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, lad.” said Wales with a shake of his head, a knowing glimmer in the corner of his eye. 

[thisfairytalegonebad]

It's really weird when you get into new media which you've marginal knowledge of through dashboard osmosis or maybe you've even only seen the blorbos all over the place so you're convinced you know which character you'll latch onto but then you actually get into the thing and someone entirely different become your fave. You have no say in it, it just happens, like alright then I guess.