#i might continue working on this!

[cringefailprogrammer]

Hey, welcome to my motorcity mecha au! Not all that developed yet but I made all the designs for it one morning a month ago in a manic episode! One detail I have for this is that the Mutt-Dog mech's piloting isn't the same as it is in the show. How it works is that instead of Mike driving and Chuck doing the technical work, they both drive, in addition to Chuck doing the technical work still! The mech can still work fine without one or the other, but they move in sync when together! Mike is better with the combat side of things, but Chuck can get them out of things in a pinch since he's Moreso on the strategy and mobility side.

For reference, these mechs are about 40-50 feet tall depending on which it is.

[narusasuart]

I love them a normal amount

... The normal amount is a lot, right?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

come get yer juice (aka some 'stocks i never posted </3)

[starflungwaddledee]

i wanted to do a piece to commemorate all the amazing waddle dees who entered the @kirbyoctournament this year! as starstruck is the last dee standing in the mainline tourney, that's a big legacy to carry, but she's doing her best...!

if you want to help her keep fighting the fight for the Humble Waddle Dee against all these super cool knights, dark matters, gods, and ancients, you can vote for starstruck here!

additionally with the first round of second chance voting now open, all these dee's are back for more, and you can give them your vote in the second chance bracket!! sadly a few of them are up against each other, but from top to bottom, here are links to vote for your favourites!

galaxia // ideena // pip // fondue // starry // mimi // daisy // rainbow // wadhat // wridee // stellar // rope mf // keyper // seam // lemon // flower // and of course starstruck being squished to within an inch of her life there 😂

character credits, from top to bottom!

galaxia @centellazul // ideena @tazmilygray // pip @emmyp0ps // fondue @moonmacabre01 // starry @staring-at-a-blank-pagee // mimi @clownie-rainbow // daisy @starrygoober // rainbow @cali-kabi // wadhat @iwontusethis255 // wridee @mxmanynames // stellar @drawscutestuff // rope mf @mint-termsandconditions // keyper @bloodiegawz // seam @cloud-the-forgotten // lemon @snazzyladreal // flower @eliastheownerof0axolotls

i hope you all enjoy it!! best of luck to everyone and their wanyas in the tourney and second chance!! 💖🙏

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

👻❄️ &🔥🐉

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Creative Hubris takes another unsuspecting victim.

[kheprriverse]

I might be a little obsessed with this design...

[katiekatdragon27]

your flatland art is SO GOOD RAHHHHHH

Thank you so much! I'm happy there are still people who enjoy my silly occasional Flatland art lol. I need to start posting more of these guys cuz as much as I love the Flat Dreams stuff, I wanna see my silly pookies more. The true Flatland content /j

Take a doodle for the ride btw, I'm happy you like my art^^

Have a lovely day :)

[ohnoitsz1m]

Uhh post canon Barney

Man who has not had a break since the rescas and refuses to start now. Alyx and Gordon are hiding his gear as we speak while Kleiner distracts him.

I was sposed to do Alyx too but I blinked and it was 3 am so. Next time

Oh also I forgot to make a note but he does carry a sidearm

[redwinterroses]

That was the seventh ravager skeleton he’d seen in the past two days.

Jimmy turned his head slowly as the train rattled past, squinting into the sunset and trying to figure out if this one looked like it had been hunted, or had just… died that way.

Probably hunted. Most of the wild ravagers had been hunted at this point—you had to go deep into new generation to find the herds that used to cover this area of the plains. 

But the further he rode, the wilder things got. It had been two days since the train had passed through an actual town—and no, that hotel-and-pub at the last station didn’t count. That was a waystation, even if they were insisting on calling it Oakville. 

“Have to have a village to earn the ville,” he muttered to himself, resting his chin on his hand and staring out the window at the passing countryside. “Didn't even have an oak.” 

The setting sun cast bruising shadows from the scrubby trees and the tall, jagged boulders that broke up the flat landscape. Some of the formations were as tall as houses, and for a moment Jimmy let himself consider what it might be like to build on one of them. Use it as the foundation for a house, terraform around it—make an oasis of green in the dusty plain.

Then he shook his head and sat back from the window with a sigh. Not far enough, yet. He still had days—maybe weeks—of travel ahead of him.

The train gave a sudden jolt, and Jimmy winced as his head bounced off the hard wooden edge of the seatback. “Ow—” He touched his head gingerly. “What the—”

There was another jolt, harder this time, and the sudden high-pitched whine Jimmy had learned to associate with the brakes. The train was stopping.

But… here? They were nowhere near the next station. Wouldn’t be for hours yet.

The pit of Jimmy’s stomach flipped, and he stood, grabbing for his duster to slip it on over his suit. The bone-handled revolver hiding in his pocket was a comforting weight against his side, and he took a deep breath to slow the sudden racing of his heart.

Nothing good came of trains stopping suddenly in the middle of nowhere. Newsreels he’d seen in theaters back spawnwards flickered through his memories: desperate vigilantes, settlers who’d turned to crime… There were stories of entire trains being dismantled while the passengers sat for days in captivity, abandoned when the robbers had stripped the vessels of anything of value or use.

Jimmy quickly flipped through the people he’d interacted with while on the train. No faces stood out, no one had given him special notice. This was probably just a fluke occurrence: nothing to do with him.

Which meant he might be in real danger. 

He’d bought a cabin ticket, content to sleep on the flat horsehair mattresses on the train rather than risk a dodgy hotel or boarding house every night. It also gave him a private space on the train—no risk of a seatmate getting too friendly. 

The downside was that he was isolated from the rest of the train by surprisingly noise-resistant walls. Which meant he had no idea what was going on further up the line.

As the clacking sounds of the wheels on the tracks continued to slow, Jimmy drew out his revolver, checking the barrel with a practiced glance. Then, thumb on the hammer, he slid open the cabin door and leaned cautiously into the narrow hall.

A shout, half-muffled, echoed from the direction of the engine. Another voice yelled something back, and then there was a loud pop, like someone breaking a board.

Even over the sound of the train, Jimmy knew that sound, and he rubbed his thumb against the recoil shield of his revolver. Someone just taken a shot—hopefully not at another person. 

For half of a heartbeat, the smell of spent gunpowder and blood flooded his memories, and Jimmy swore. He pulled back into the cabin, pressing the heel of his free hand against the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. 

Deep breaths, you gump, he chided himself, sweeping the flashback away into the depths of his brain. His hand was trembling and that was not what he needed in the middle of a… whatever this was. Train robbery, most likely. 

There was another shot in the distance, followed by two more in quick succession. Nearer, too. 

Jimmy gritted his teeth and forced himself back toward the door. 

I gotta get out of here, he thought. His cabin was near the forward end of the cabin—if he could get to the outer door, he might be able to jump from the car while it was still moving, get away from the train before anyone noticed him gone.

Or you could help the people stuck here, a spiteful voice in his mind suggested. But you won’t. Coward.

It’s not cowardice to try and keep a situation from getting worse, he told himself. The only problem was that heading for the outer door also meant heading toward the gunshots. He took a deep breath and started for the door.

He’d taken only a single step when the outer door burst open and a red-headed man in a battered derby came running full-tilt into the car. Jimmy had barely time to move his finger away from his revolver’s trigger before he was bowled over, both of them tumbling half into the sleeper cabin.

The stranger swore, his elbow going into Jimmy’s gut as he scrambled to his feet. 

“Watch it, greenhorn!” he snapped. His eyes went to the revolver, and narrowed. “Can you use that thing?”

Jimmy gasped for air. “When—when I can breathe, yeah,” he managed. 

Another shot and the scream of a woman in terror sliced the air. The train was barely moving now—maybe as fast as a horse at a trot, and Jimmy shoved himself to his feet.

“What’s going on?” Oof, his side ached sharply when he moved. If this idiot had broken something—

“It’s the Greysides gang,” the stranger said. He glanced outside the cabin, then slammed the door shut, whirling to look around the tiny space. “They’re harmless, mostly—”

A shot, a shout, and a crashing sound put doubt to that statement, and the stranger winced. “Emphasis on mostly. They just want diamonds. And, uh… me.”

“What?” Jimmy’s skin was itching with the need to run. From the criminals sacking the train or the stranger talking to him more directly than anyone had in weeks, he wasn’t sure. Toss up, really. But the sounds of altercations were getting closer, and they were running out of time.

“Nevermind,” the man in the bowler said. He glanced at the window. “Does that open?”

“Probably?” Jimmy hadn’t tried it. “But it’s at least a four block drop—”

The sound of the door to their car splintering open cut him off, and the stranger sprang to the window, flinging it open with deft fingers. He glanced back at Jimmy, and there was a glint of something in his eyes that wasn’t fear—something that almost looked like he was having fun.

“Coming?” he asked, and then he was gone, jumping from the window and vanishing into the dusk outside. 

Jimmy hesitated exactly two seconds—long enough to hear heavy boots tramping toward his cabin—and then with a gritted dammit he decocked his revolver, shoved it into his pocket, and leaped out the window. 

For an instant, the world was a silent riot of sunset shadows and the flash of lit windows passing him so quickly they blurred into one long line of golden light. And then he was slamming into the rocky ground, the wind knocked from his lungs, and rolling through the dirt and scrub.

He pitched to a stop in the low branches of a scraggly bush, gaping up at the emerging stars as his chest spasmed, desperately trying to figure out how to breathe again. The world was still spinning. Or he was still spinning. He was going to be sick.

With a heaving gasp, air came rushing back, and with it a whole host of new bruises and cuts and if he was lucky he was dying because every inch of him hurt like he’d been stomped by a ravager and there was a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the bush and—

“Get off, get off—” he groaned, smacking weakly at his attacker. 

“Hey, you’re alive, good.” The red-headed man leaned over him, blocking the stars. He was smudged and his hat had a brand new dent, but his face was split with a wide grin. “First time jumping a train?”

Jimmy just groaned, and closed his eyes. The world would stop spinning in a minute. Probably. 

“No time for that, bucko.” There was a hand gripping his wrist and pulling him upright, shouldering under his arm and helping Jimmy stand. “Those pillagers are gonna notice I’m not on the train soon enough, and then they're gonna come looking.”

“So get going,” Jimmy said. He squinched his eyes half-open, testing to see if the horizon had gone back to staying in one place. “I’ll find my own way.”

“I’d love to, really I would.” The stranger started walking, and Jimmy was forced to stagger along with him or fall over again. “But I don’t like the idea of getting a kid killed, and if anyone saw you follow me—”

Bad cess, Jimmy grimaced, and pulled away from the stranger’s grip. “Killed?” he said. “You said they were harmless!”

“Yeah, well—” the stranger stepped back and gave him a rakish grin. “That doesn't really go for bounty hunters that infiltrate their gang and wire their location to the authorities right before a big diamond heist.”

“Bounty hunter?” Jimmy kept his voice level, but his hand twitched toward the gun in his pocket. He didn’t think the man noticed, not in this light. He wondered if he could draw fast enough.

“Tango Tek,” the man said, doffing his bowler. “Bounty hunter, trail boss, and occasional inventor—at your service.”

Jimmy hesitated a moment. Then: “James,” he offered, watching this "Tango" person's face closely. “James Solidarity.”

There was no flicker of recognition in the man’s expression, and Jimmy allowed himself to relax, just the smallest bit. 

“Nice to meet you, James Solidarity.” Tango glanced back at the train, which looked like it had all but slowed to a stop maybe three hundred blocks down the track. “Now, I say we head off before those goons get the idea to look outside for us.”

“For you,” Jimmy reminded him.

Tango flashed a big grin. “You’re stuck with me for now, Jim,” he said. “Leastaways until we hit a town. No offense, but you don’t look like you’d last long out here on your own.”

Stuck with me for now. The words stuck in Jimmy’s throat like gristle, and he swallowed past them.

“Right,” he said. “Lead the way.”

[its-your-mind]

JUST FOR THE RECORD.

the way Madam E talks is in fact Incredibly Extra (alex said somewhere that yeah duh that was the point) but also.

as a person who sits in a pretty diverse classroom of 12-14 year olds all day.

some of the Kids These Days do in fact talk like that. All the time. To everyone. No matter what. Front-facing camera not required.

The other day one of the individual-units-of-chaos-for-whom-I-am-responsible-for-8-hours-each-weekday asked if I had done anything fun over the weekend and I said "oh I just went for a short hike in the national park" and he straight up did this:

like. LIKE. madam E's tone. her inflection. her little trill on the end of words... some of the slang was a tad dated (though that does sort of make sense, if Madam E is ~5-10 years older than my gremlins-disguised-as-preteens) but I literally got whiplash every three minutes because all I could visualize for Madam E was a rotating cast of the like. Seven of my kiddos who talk EXACTLY like that.

which I WILL SAY. did make the horror hit home Just A Bit More Than Usual.

[bloomfish]

It's so weird that in angel s5e2 they do a little flashback to Spike's blaze of glory moment in the last episode of Buffy... but they leave out Buffy saying "I love you". It's such a blatant omission, the ONLY omission from that scene, that it feels totally deliberate and kind of dishonest. Considering a lot of the Spike and Angel moments in S5 revolve around their jealousy and rivalry towards each other, and a LOT of that is to do with Buffy like... Why would you leave it out? It's a pretty big moment for Spike's character in general.

As far as I recall they don't even mention it, they just mention the fact that Spike and Buffy have had a lot of sex compared to bangel's ONE disastrous time (that they remember) but it does kind of cheapen it for Spike. A big motivation for him not leaving LA could have been him not wanting to hold Buffy to her words, since he clearly doesn't believe that she loves him (even though she does, as per Whedon). He presumably thinks she only said that to make him feel better in his final moments, because she wouldn't have to actually follow through on her words. Which is sad. But it makes much more sense as a motivation than the weird 'it cheapens my moment of glory' excuse like since when does spike give a shit about that

[saltpepperbeard]

so i just talked to my therapist about all of this because i have been, unsurprisingly, ✨suffering✨ lmao. and because i know that’s a very shared sentiment, i just wanted to pass her words along.

she basically said that however it is that we need to cope, we cope. whether that’s going full acceptance, or clinging on to whatever ounce of hope we can, we go ahead and do that.

and also, because i have seen people getting upset or even angry at others for having hope, i also just wanted to share that she mentioned hope is a good strategy. it’s a light in a sea of darkness. it’s something to hang onto while things are incredibly difficult. does it guarantee that anything will actually happen? no. but does that little whisper of light provide some heat, some solace, some comfort? absolutely yes.

so, to everyone, just keep coping however it is you find fit. if you’re in acceptance and are working your way through that, continue. if you’re passionate and fighting to see if you can make a difference, continue. if you’re tired and drained and just need to take a break from it all, continue.

continue, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. as my therapist put it, we are all turtles right now. we are all slowly navigating through all of this. don’t kick the turtles, because they will clam up and will no longer move.

allow the turtles to move and cross the finish line at their pace.

love yall so much ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[sensei-twinkles]

Dadmight Week Day 2: Homework

Just a little study session with some Dadmight help of course ✨

@dadmightweek

[whattheskyknows]

Chapter 5 au where instead of Maki breaking into the hangar, it's Tsumugi. She breaks in using an Exisal but doesn't reveal herself. Instead, she uses the voice changer using Maki's voice so both Kaito and Kokichi think she's inside. Tsumugi wounds Kokichi using the Exisal's gun and tries to kick-start another trial because everyone is too depressed to do anything (including Maki, hence why Tsumugi has taken matters into her own hands.) She leaves pretty soon afterwards, assuming Kaito will sort everything out (Kaito tells 'Maki' to leave, promising her everything will be okay.) Kaito and Kokichi are still both alive but Kokichi is gravely wounded and Kaito's illness is getting worse. Kokichi points out that it's strange 'Maki' didn't leave the Exisal and reluctantly reveals he thinks the true mastermind is trying to continue the game, bating Kaito to murder. Kaito believes him eventually and they both work together to trick the mastermind. I think they'd go down the hydraulic press mystery route, although there's a different outcome at the trial.

Stopping there because I kinda want to write this as a fic because I've already started to plan out what could happen lol

[transformers-synergize]

robots in disguise :)

Cybertronians are masters of disguise, easily able to integrate themselves into most alien societies. Especially ones that consist of other cyber life or heavly plated alien, things cybertronians can easily mimic. When unable to mimic the native life, bots will often take advantage of halo Forms technology, creating a near-perfect solid light replica of the native life. Cybertronians also have the built-in ability to pick up and decode languages just from hearing them. with Their vocalizer being extremely flexible and able to mimic the sound of other species, and if they desire, some can mimic the voices of specific individuals.

Scouts and infiltrators are usually able to figure out how to mimic the native life's behavior and better integrate themselves. Their disguises are often imperfect, but they're usually good enough not to cause any alarm, allowing these cybertronians to integrate themselves into alien societies undetected so they can insert themselves into roles that would give them the most power and influence. This allows Cybertronians to easily take other alien planets/societies out from the inside either to destabilize them so they become non-threat or to convert Their planet into a cybertronian colonies. But if an infiltration is unsuccessful, Cybertron has enough military might they can usually enforce their will on a planet by force, if need be.

During the war, due to Cybertron's unstable state, many Cybertronian colonies were able to break free from Cybertron's control, and many civilizations whose development was purposefully stifled were able to finally Advance without Cybertrons Influence.

Course, an infiltration campaign is not the reason why our little groups of stranded Autobots and Decepticons are stuck on Earth. So, the stranded bots don't have the same tools that an infiltrators might have. On earth, they can not mimic the native life very well, They are too small and often lack any plating, but they can mimic their vehicles and other mechanical devices, but that can only help so much. Neither side Possesses a haloform generator, leaving them reliant on native beings to perform certain tasks for them and help keep their existence hidden. Barely any Bots on either side had been on an alien planet before, and the ones that have only ever really been on Cybertronian colony worlds. But, one of the stranded Autobots is an ex-infiltrator and is more than familiar with dealing with unkown alien worlds. :)