dronehearts
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mom said it's my turn on the FUNHOUSE wingplay fic by dronehearts
Fandoms: FUNHOUSE (Roblox)
11 Aug 2026
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Summary
"Ooh, man. You've got a bad knot right there, buddy. Hold on-" Anton muttered, readjusting his position. Manny wanted to whine as he pulled his hands away, only barely catching himself. He wants Anton to repeat his prior action, to run his hands up and down the space between his tegmina, dig his claws into his mesothorax and breathe against the back of his neck, pin him down and make him shake and quiver--
Woah, woah.
Manny blinked, realizing only then how warm his face was.
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Summary
Anton asks Manny a question.
Manny has answered this question many times before.
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What if two men were in the snow and one of them killed the other with a spell wouldn't that be fucked up or what by dronehearts
Fandoms: Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
02 Aug 2026
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Summary
Kaltmorn was a dead-end town, nestled in the snow-capped mountains of nowhere.
People didn't come here to further their education or enrich their lives; they came here when they had nowhere else to go, or when they ran out of options, or when they're merely passing through.
It relied on trade and import from nearby settlements down the mountainside for most of its luxuries, meaning most of its goods weren't even homegrown on their own turf.
Days often bled into each other, many rising early to work the fields, their backyard gardens, repair homes and stoves for their neighbors, patch up clothes and other such pretty things..
Anyone who lived here would sooner or later fall into a similar routine. And if they shan't, well.. they simply didn't survive Kaltmorn.
Not that the people of Kaltmorn would kill them, no. Just that the monotony would drive them to madness.
Zomes was very familiar with the monotony.
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Summary
The crew is trying to name the 100 or so children they rescued from the factory in City 9.
Mitchell has a suggestion, and then him and Nick talk.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,502
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 42
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Summary
There's a spill on the floor.
Some elevator resident caused it, brought something wet and sticky and germ filled and spilled it all over the nice carpet in one of the ROKEA displays. Someone else walked in it while it was still wet and now there's dirty footprints tracked from the spill to the next two displays, probably beyond that...
Lampert sighs, adjusting his r95 respirator and rubber gloves. He got to his knees, assessed the damage, and got to work. Grabbing a sponge from his mop bucket and dunking it in the lukewarm soapy water he had filled it within prior, he began scrubbing the carpet.