#At least I can say I'm trying

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Council of lovefools.

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[deoidesign]

One of my first digital pieces (2010) versus one of my recent ones (2024)

We all start somewhere!

[rin-solo]

*Different Beast motif plays*

Odysseus: *raises trident*

Odysseus, in the danger voice™: You're going to be my b*tch now, Poseidon.

Poseidon:

Poseidon: ... Alright, please...!

... 600 Strike in a nutshell, right?

[introspectivememories]

okay so i know that dash baxter barely gets any character development in the show but like the idea that danny hates dash? boo, lame, overdone!!!! danny who can beat dash up and dash knows this and everyone knows this but by god danny needs something normal to cling on to so dash shoves him in a locker everyday?? yeah that's the good shit

[cementcornfield]

Did you see the clip of Joe yesterday?

Is it a clip now? Oh lord....was it funny at least?

It was the first time he ever used the F word in a conference.

He cursed? Y'all lying...I be trying to get him to curse, he don't curse when I'm talking to him...

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.

[cerealbishh]

"The world's lucky to have you."

[galedekarios]

a bioware game tradition datv def carries on for me personally is that i just don't vibe with any of the comp/comp or comp/npc ship they cooked up.

[sysig]

For Requestober, Req.1

Scri dressed as an angel, Edgar dressed as a demon. It would be fun to see the roles swaped regarding costumes!

Day 3 - Angel and Devil('s Advocate)

[scificrows]

i like to make fun of murderbot for being all "i hate everyone, i don't care about anything or anyone, fuck off" while simultaneously caring very much about the people around it and the situations it finds itself in. i love how it "accidentally" ends up caring quite a lot about the friends it makes along the way. but i think something that i tend to forget is that murderbot actively decides to care - at least at some point in its story.

idk, as a person that struggles with depression, this paragraph from artificial condition really resonates with me. prior to all systems red, murderbot had contracts. it had routine and it had protocols. it knew what it had to do to just get by, how to perform so no one would notice it had disabled its governor module. it was deeply depressed, yes, but it was functioning (for lack of a better word). in artificial condition, murderbot's routine is gone. it cannot go on in that state of numbly going-from-contract-to-contract, putting in as little effort as possible, consuming media to cope. that option is gone because it escaped (and note that escaping the company was not an active choice, it kinda happened to it). murderbot has two options now: it can either gather all its energy; actively do something new and difficult and distressing; change something in its life and try. or it can let the numbness and the emptiness take over and stop trying. if murderbot wants to survive as a rogue secunit, it has to try. no matter how difficult that is. the wording in that paragraph really hits home for me. the way the non-caring sees an opportunity to slip in and to take over. does murderbot even care? does anything really matter? is anything really worth the hassle? wouldn't it be so much easier to just let your mind slip away a little, to go numb, to be passive, to watch media and wait for things to happen to you? wouldn't it be nice to stop thinking and struggling and feeling complicated things? to stop making an effort? you've been dealing with a lot lately and maybe it's time to just shut down. maybe you'll just take a little break. just slip deeper into this chair and start the show. time flies when you're not paying attention. trying is exhausting. who cares if you don't do the things you wanted to do, you were supposed to do. it'll be fine. let's just ignore those things for now. just let the non-caring take over. just stop thinking. you can deal with the aftermath later. just watch your shows. who cares. but murderbot cares. it decides to care. it decides to fight with all it has and i think that is so brave. and i think in the later books caring is less of an active decision for murderbot. once you start caring, it's easier to keep going than to stop; and murderbot, for all its "i'm a grumpy rogue secunit, leave me alone" behavior, knows just how important caring is. so it's not that it doesn't know what's happening; rather, it lets itself care. tl;dr: caring is not the default for murderbot, it's just the more difficult of two options. and it decides not to take the soft option. it decides to struggle. it decides to care. and so it does.

[contagious-watermelon]

i think a lot of the reason i don't really feel connected to the mainstream (""mainstream"") aro community is due to the fact that it seems to be always subordinated to asexuality. there aren't even any aromantic informational posts that aren't just a second thought on an ace one — or that don't include asexuality in any way at all. and so many people seem to view themselves as (aro)ace that i simply can't relate to them at all

bc really i feel like my sexual orientation doesn't matter at all when it comes to discussing aromanticism — and obviously being aroace or aroallo have different struggles and may experience their aromanticism differently (and aroallos are consistently ignored due to the very thing I'm talking about) — but everyone seems to think of aro issues as some sort of mirrored version of ace ones

and i can't ever seem to find anyone advocating for or even discussing our rights when it comes to navigating society. for all people complain about amatonormativity, it seems the extent is just "my friends won't believe that i don't have a crush." which yeah, is a problem, but I'm not in high school anymore. I'd like to be able to afford a house on one person's salary. I'd like to be able to choose to have kids one day, if i want to (which i think i do, but I'm lowkey way too young to even think about that right now).

people talk about aro issues as if its a lack of awareness (which isn't helped by their immediate grafting of it onto asexuality), or point to the (small amount of) statistics on ace people and assume it applies to us too, or that those are the only issues aro people deal with. someone who's ace and alloromantic can still get married and enjoy those benefits from society, even if they have a harder time of it. when anyone does speak up about the lack of rights that aromantic people (and single people — but we tend to be perpetually single) experience, the immediate response from the community is that QPRs need to be more recognized. ... am i the only one who sees that that's a band-aid over a problem that doesn't even give a good solution? that it's just an extension of societal amatonormativity to nominally include (SOME) aro people?

[itsjuliak5]

In the flashback where Miguel loses his daughter from the alternate universe, you can see Peter B. Parker in the background in his Spider-Man suit watching as Miguel’s daughter disappears in his arms, and watching how that destroys him.

That moment 100% contributed to his fear of having kids, or at the very least validated those fears.

[juicesnatcher]

THANKSGIVING STICKER SHOP SALE

From now until December 1st, you can get 30% in my sticker shop!!

Either click the link attached below, or simply use code "THANKU30" at checkout

[amtrak12]

HELP! I've fallen down a Bering and Wells hole again and can't stop watching fanvids. I misssssss them!!! 😢

[cyanocophrenic]

Sweets (1/?)

The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.

Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?

She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.

Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.

The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.

Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.

How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.

She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.

As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.

No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.

Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.

Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?

As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!

Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?

No such luck.

The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.

"There you are!"

She struggled to stand. So tight.

"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"

Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?

"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."

She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.

"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.

"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.

"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.

"Um! Okay!" What.

The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.

What was going on here? She could barely think.

The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."

"Um..."

There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.

The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?

"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.

"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."

The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.

As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"

On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"

The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"

She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.

Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.

"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.

"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.

They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?

By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.

As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.

Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.

The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.

"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.

Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.

"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"

She chewed and swallowed the treat.

Uh oh.

[punkrogue]

ended up thinking about the magneto + wanda vs charles + david dichotomy and --

(house of m #1 / way of x 2 + 4)

magneto is 100% not a great dad and even HE knows it and he KNOWS he's put his war before his kids but at the end of the day he does love and care for them and has wanda's state deteriorates he both tries to help her bc she just fucking DESERVES it and also falls the helplessness of someone who just cannot find a solution but so desperately wants one. it's shitty that he has her manipulate things into a mutant utopia but idk man it was kind of a dogshit situation already. I mean people are literally planning to euthanize her and given how things are going at that particular moment there's almost an argument for it. what a horrific position for him to be in as a father and a father who's trying to do at least a little for his kids to make up for YEARS of being the WORST. he WANTS wanda to have a life, even if he's not allowed in it.

MY MAN EGG CHARLIE THO-- he has a similar kid. mentally unstable reality warper. has literally reshaped related twice with his unending bullshit. david is back and FULLY in his "i rule me" era. which is when he's the most together and lucid. He's as on top of his mental issues as possible and RIGHT out the gate xavier has decided he's too dangerous to live. he refuses to return david's consciousness to his body. when david does it himself charles suspects HIS OWN SON of being the psychic poison corrupting kraoka and when david refuses to tell him what he's plans are and simply asks his father to trust him because he's his son charles violates his autonomy and tries to hack his mind. (i know xavier's getting onslaughty but also.... lbr.... it's not off brand for him to pull something like that)

like-- i'm not a charles xavier hater but i'm a charles xavier hater you know? i love david so much and charles is such a deadbeat dad. i also think this is just-- it's very telling of the differences between mags and xavier. magneto will put his mission above all 9/10 but when dealing with a situation like these it's VERY clear that it's killing him and WANTS to resolve it in the less harmful way. meanwhile charles would prefer his son back in a coma before he's shown even a SECOND of supposed instability than allow him a life because of "what he might do to the mission". like no one here is getting the dad of the year award but jfc charles is sooooooo good at rationalizing and stomaching doing horrific shit to his own kid(s) just bc they're not controllable or palatable.