Bitvhboyfl0wers - Rambling

It's not uncommon for worlds to collide. Lines get crossed, voids meld, portals malfunction. And when gods and magic are far from few, it's easy to see why.

Still, when the Syndicate comes across five astronauts, tied together and floating rather calmly in the void, they're not any less surprised.

"Uh," Phil calls out, "hello?"

The astronauts––at least, they look like astronauts, though their yellow suits look too battered to actually work––turn to look. They blink, baffled.

"How are you standing like that?" one of them asks, ink-black eyes squinting. He clutches a dark purple egg to his chest.

"Like what?" Niki asks.

"You're just... standing," another astronaut says, this one mustachioed. "How are you just standing in the middle of the void?"

"We're walking somewhere," Connor says.

"Why, can't you guys walk?" Phil asks.

"Not to our knowledge," says a female astronaut. She's floating completely upside down, almost lying down mid-air, her head tilted back to look at the Syndicate. Her eyes are a solid color, like the one with black eyes, but hers are a bright silver. Between the two of them, they're extremely creepy. "And we rather like floating, to be honest."

Suddenly a look of recognition comes over Kristin, and She gasps. "Oh, you guys are the Boatem Hermits! You made it out!" She says.

"Yeah, we are. We did." An astronaut with a smooth American voice says slowly. "Wait, do we know you?"

"Not really. But I've seen you guys around. It's nice to see you're okay. I had complete faith in you guys."

"Thank you, lady we've never met!" another American astronaut pipes up cheerfully.

Phil leans towards Kristin. "Sorry, who are they?"

"Their world was crushed recently by the moon," Kristin explains. "I haven't had time to check up on them, but I wasn't too worried." She looks back at the astronauts––Boatem, apparently. "Are the others okay?"

At that the astronauts lapse into a somber silence. "We're not sure," the mustachioed one mutters. "We were all in a bit of a rush."

The rest hum in agreement, and then are silent again.

"Our world was destroyed too," Niki says. "I mean, not by the moon, but by a nuke."

"Ah, classic," the first American murmurs.

"I... guess? But we get it, not knowing if... if there's anything, or anyone left. It's kind of scary."

"Yeah. But I'm sure the rest of your friends got out fine," Phil pipes up. "I mean if we all did, then surely they did as well."

"This sheep also survived." Connor gestures to Rosie. "If a sheep can survive, so can the rest of your friends."

"That's... strangely very comforting," the black-eyed one says.

"Thanks."

"Well, I hope you all get to the next world soon. I'm afraid we have to keep moving, but I will see you guys around." Kristin turns to the Syndicate. "We should keep going."

"Will they be okay staying here?" Niki asks.

"Oh yeah, they'll be fine. They've been around for longer than you guys have."

"Oh yeah, we've been doing just swell here, all things considered!" the second American assures. Upon closer inspection there appears to be a sleeping cat in his helmet. That's... normal. "You can just toddle on your way, don't mind us. But thank you for your words of wisdom, random void passersby!"

"Sure thing dude," Connor says, giving a thumbs up. Rosie baas.

"Alright, well. Nice to meet you guys," Phil waves and chuckles as Kristin leads them away.

"Bye!" Niki does the same. The astronauts all wave and say their farewells, and soon they're merely another speck of dust in the endless black.

Distantly, the shrill shriek of the black-eyed astronaut rings out, "Wait, we don't even need suits!"

I had a vision

"You're doing it again."

Mumbo jerks his head away from the window and looks at Grian. "No I'm not!"

"You definitely are," Scar says beside him.

"You've been doing it from eight thirty to nine fifteen every day for a week," Grian says, "and I STILL can't figure out what it is that's so fascinating about an autoshop. Mumbo you're a theoretical redstone engineer, if you want to oggle cars there's about a billion governments that would throw some at you to get your attention."

"Oh, it's not the cars," Scar says, cementing Mumbo's opinion that while he is a different kind of menace than Grian, he is still very much a menace.

"N-now see here-"

"Oooohhhh," Grian crows, "is it not?" He's smelled blood in the water and Mumbo clutches his coffee. "It's nothing like that!" He protests.

"Far side of the yard," Scar tells Grian, who sits up a little in his seat. "Working on the sedan. Big, black hair, blue eyes, black denim vest."

"Denim? And here I thought you had taste Mumoh my GOD."

"I know right?" Scar says with delight as Mumbo sinks a little further in his seat.

"Scar, with the understanding that you are right beside me and are the light of my life, partner in crime and eternal tormentor of my soul, that posterior belongs in a museum and so do those arms."

"We are 100% in agreement, pesky bird of my heart. So, Mumbo, what's his naaammee?"

Mumbo knows he could circumvent this conversation. He could take his coffee and run. He could ignore them both. He could go order even more coffee and delay the inevitable.

Instead, as ever cornered by his friends' overwhelming personalities, he caves.

"His name is Skizz," Mumbo says. "You remember I had that flat out of town last week? This is the shop they called."

"And your Knight in Shining Towtruck appeared!" Scar says with a broad grin. "He must be worth something, a hind end that nice wouldn't be enough to persuade our pickiest of engineers."

"He's- very nice," Mumbo admits, passing his coffee cup back and forth. "And smart. And a bit- brash."

"Did he ruffle your apron?" Scar asks.

"No! No he was a perfect gentleman."

"But you got the vibe," Grian probes. Mumbo tugs at his collar. "Maybe? A little? He was just so- so kind and enthusiastic and I couldn't tell if he was flirting or if that's just how he is."

Across the way, Mumbo's Knight in Shining Towtruck closes the top of the sedan and wipes his hands on a rag. Grian can get a better look at him now and the picture gets even better. Scar had been right, he has very blue eyes, and weirdly lots of scars. He says something to someone Grian can't see and gets in the sedan's front seat, firing up the engine.

The megawatt smile he gives is clearly visible even from the cafe, and Grian can almost hear his shout of triumph.

"And what are you doing about it besides coming to the cafe across the street for coffee every day?" Scar needles Mumbo.

"I'm- strategizing!"

"You do any more strategizing you'll end up reoganizing your sock drawer or blowing up another lab," Grian says, eyes not moving from the autoshop. "Besides, we have a next step for you. Look."

"Grian what- ...is that Impulse?"

"Oh no Impulse is hugging Mumbo's man!" Scar says in disappointment.

"Scar," Grian says, "Didn't Impulse mention he was happy with this assignment because it meant he got to spend more time with his best friend in the world?"

"Oh yeah he was able to get housing near him and his shop so he could walk there! I don't remember the name, darn it. Rizz? Lizz?"

Grian grins at Mumbo, who has gone pale as death.

"You know," he says to his colleague, "I think we should meet Impulse's bestie. Don't you, Mumbo?"

"It only seems polite," Mumbo squeaks, and drains the rest of his coffee in one long scorching gulp.

Oh dear.

Oh no.

Oh no.

you knock on my door and hear loud barking and scrambling noises and me yelling "no!! down boy!! down!!!" and then when i open the door there is a single crab on the floor

For all my beloved mutuals who might need it

Hey Jack, AU c!tommy here, I wanna talk to more sourcemates, dm me if you wanna talk:p

Anyone willing to talk to Jack Manifold from DSMP? You can like/reply to this post and I'll DM you, memories are pretty in-line with canon for the most part. Not really interested in talking to Wilbur rn and I have my vendettas against a few other people but am willing to talk it out or look past them.

I'm sure you'll find at least a couple of people willing to talk to you. Best of luck finding your folks, Jack!

I’m sorry friends, but “just google it” is no longer viable advice. What are we even telling people to do anymore, go try to google useful info and the first three pages are just ads for products that might be the exact opposite of what the person is trying to find but The Algorithm thinks the words are related enough? And if it’s not ads it’s just sponsored websites filled with listicles, just pages and pages of “TOP FIFTEEN [thing you googled] IMAGINED AS DISNEY PRINCESSES” like… what are we even doing anymore, google? I can no longer use you as shorthand for people doing real and actual helpful research on their own.

thank yoy spock

this happened months ago. i cannot keep it in any longer. a while ago i went on a porn site ive never been to and it asked if i was over 18 and i misclicked and said no and it automatically sent me to google images of puppies and kittens. i still cannot get over how funny this is.

Climate crisis is coming for all of us. We need to vote for people who are not insulated from reality via donor bribes.

We need a robust EPA. The current Supreme Court wants to end the EPA and Federal power to regulate our air and water. Never forget.

Get involved. Vote.