Tumgik
#etho’s modded minecraft
kiwinatorwaffles · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
thinks about etho offering a raccoon a carrot in his modded minecraft series. this is coping art before i have my exam tomorrow
643 notes · View notes
ch1ckennoodlesoup · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
etho is a very fungi
27 notes · View notes
snifsnoof · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i present u with ethubs designs,, fresh from my sketchbook
these could be for both hermitcraft and the life series (although i might make another sheet for the life series designs because i feel like the clothes would be a lot lighter/easier to move in)
522 notes · View notes
loktauri · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
WIP of Etho and the redstone turtle we barely knew </3 Now I hibernate as I study for exams lol
910 notes · View notes
brick-rolled · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
The Fishing Shack!
938 notes · View notes
girltimeswithscar · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
“It’s a mungus!” - Etho, clueless
700 notes · View notes
devilart2199-aibi · 1 year
Text
Etho found some new friends! 🍄
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
murkybu · 2 years
Note
etho in encased for the pallets ask game, mayhaps?
Tumblr media
here we go, modded slab :D
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
allforhavoc · 1 year
Text
the way etho's brain works is so sexy. no i will not elaborate.
except i lied and yes i absolutely will. he's the literal definition of thinking outside the box. every other episode he's finding cool little game mechanics and making even cooler inventions out of them.
there's something so satisfying about how he looks at things. maybe it's simply the result of playing a game for so many years that makes him look at the small things closer than other minecraft youtubers. maybe it's just the man he is. whatever it is, it makes his content that much greater and i respect him for it.
290 notes · View notes
swsf · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
one modded boy
164 notes · View notes
wasitapossum · 11 months
Text
This clip right here is my reason for living.
He’s so goofy 🤭
252 notes · View notes
its-rael · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Mr Slab <3
1K notes · View notes
miru-d-art · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
If I add any more detail to this I will go crazy 🙃
(This is mainly based on the moded series, look at the little mungus)
332 notes · View notes
tunastime · 2 years
Text
the various skills of ethoslab and how he learned them and when. the list of a man who's lived a bit longer than he should have. (inspired by this post)
field meals: it's just soup. he never makes them for anyone else, not until they lose the grainy texture they start with. he learns from a man in a village that questions why he covers his face. etho laughs, but he never tells him why. the man doesn't ask again. he tells him that if he lets the vegetables soften for longer that they won't make a gritty soup when mashed. he learns spiced pumpkin, beetroot, chicken and potato.
(he stays for two weeks. he rids the nearby temple of infestation in repayment. when the temple master tries to repay him with gold, he tells him that he only wants a written recipe of how to bake bread. the baker’s son gives him one with honey in it.)
soap making: is something he learns pretty early on in his career in machinery. it's no good just to rinse your hands in water and it's still no good just to be buying soap up-charged, and lye isn't any good alone. lye doesn't smell, or worse yet, smells heavy and thick and doesn't come off your skin or out of your clothes properly. he picks up a book somewhere about it. one part lye. one part oil. one part anything else. beeswax and honey. pine tar and coconut oil. he learns what mixtures get redstone out of his clothes and what he can use to wash his hair with so it doesn't frizz. he washes his clothes in a basin of warm water and honey and rosemary soap, as he does his blankets and his sheets until his whole home smells like rosemary and honey and lye and beeswax. he washes his hair and it smells like pine.
plant identification: it takes one bad meal. one bad berry before etho starts learning. pause gets sick in the snow, really sick. he doesn't cough up blood but the sheen of sweat never leaves his face for the entire week that he lies shivering under two coats and a blanket. every time etho and beef try to say something comforting, he says, “stop fussing over me, i'm fine, just food poisoning. beef cooked the chicken wrong.” (it wasn't the chicken. it was the elderberries. etho spends time figuring out what the ripe ones look and taste like. he learns mistletoe, nettles and hogweed, rosary peas and lily of the valley. he doesn't see any of them except the lily again. but he keeps the information for later.) pause gets better after a week of his eyes far away, glazed over, sweating, of him unable to keep down fluids, of shaking awake in the night, holding etho's hand. they get sick, but nobody gets sick like that again.
sewing: pause steadies his hands. he tells him that if he messes up he'll poke himself and beef tells him to stop fussing. etho can thread a needle, can't he? (he can't.) he stabs his index finger three times poking it through the fabric to make a crude patch with their initials on it. then he sews shut a tear on beef's jacket, then he affixes a handful of new buttons to an old shirt of bdubs'. bdubs has him sewing squares within the week, and they stitch together a quilt of scrap fabric big enough for them both. there isn't a cold night that the quilt doesn't stave away. it's in a different spot each time etho sees him: draped over a chair, lovingly folded on the bedside, pulled over his shoulders. they wear it threadbare.
braiding: his hair gets too long. he ties it back himself the first time, some loose thing that falls out as soon as he does it. he says to himself (a reminder): “you break it into three. you're always crossing over the middle most strand. right over middle, then right becomes middle, so left over the middle. and repeat. pulling tight.” he gets better at it, until he can tie a strong three strand braid that he learned from tying twine together to make a stronger rope. bdubs sees him pull it back a few times and braid it like that, and one of those times, late, when they're both tired and leaning on each other, he turns and takes his loose hair and asks if he can braid it. etho shrugs and says “sure.” (and his voice says only you can do that). bdubs says “sit still.” etho sits in front of his crossed legs and bdubs combs out his hair. he tells him as he works: “it's different than the three, but not that different. you pull an extra strand in each time. it looks like fish scales, so people call it a fishtail.” bdubs braids and pulls it tight. he leans forward into etho and etho leans back into him.
(etho spends two days knotting fraying ropes in fishtail braids so his hands learn (and he fidgets, and he fidgets, and it becomes his new fidget, to tie rope together) before he attempts it on his shoulder-blade length hair. bdubs guides his hands, starting him off until he can braid the top too. he only cuts it once—right before the second death games, and even then, bdubs manages to braid a little braid into his hair.)
tea specialist: it's methodical. that's what he learns, when he travels out further than he had in a long time and wanders into the city. he, like many adventurers, takes refuge, and he, unlike many adventurers, stumbles into the tea shop and takes it all in. steady hands (beef taught him that) keep him from crushing the leaves too fine to strain. he learns what hot water feels like in a tin kettle and how to prop it properly on the coals so it heats even and doesn't char the underside of the tin. he buys two wooden cups there, sealed with wax, and brings them with the kettle. it stays on the countertop.
(he uses it every night. later, in a snow fort in the middle of nowhere, he sets one of the wooden cups into the calloused hands of his partner and friend, and bdoubleo looks at him with eyes wide and round and red. he doesn't kill him when he sleeps.)
staving off the effects of sleep deprivation: there's a body sleeping next to him that needs him awake. there's a place someone can sit between wake and dream that makes sure that the body doesn't tire and it's here where he stays. his heart slows way down, but his eyes stay alert through a bleary haze. there are things he hears that aren't real. when his partner (partner, the word feels weird on his tongue now that bdubs is a red life. if they were anywhere else, he would be safe to sleep) wakes two hours from now, then he will rest. he will lie there and listen, waiting to hear him stop breathing. he never gets to that point, but he certainly sleeps very little. beef and pause never told him off for doing it, but when there were sections of the day that he didn't remember and he sat up and there was a coat draped over his knees with a tag that had VB written in chunky letters, he smiled to himself. he's tired now, but he's good at pretending he's not.
separating the things that are dreams from the ones that are not: he's still waiting for someone to tell him how to do that
538 notes · View notes
fizzlingdrinks · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
you can't tell me it is not
90 notes · View notes
michroxs · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
mr. efho slab
525 notes · View notes