#i should make that scale actually

[kokiwiouma]

this should help yall with how everything works

[suweetmichi]

I heard he's finally in earthspark..

[dykedvonte]

A crazy thing about Mouthwashing is that Pony Express lost communication with one of its freighters for months and didn’t send anyone to check.

A genuinely reputable company, or at the very least a decent one, would have sent someone, something out to check after about two weeks of silence. Two months is when the crew start questioning if they are even being looked for which implies they were already expecting it to take a while cause P.E just doesn’t care.

They don’t care about who they hire. They don’t care about the conditions they place their crew in or how safe the safety measures actually are. They just don’t care, made rules and regulations so they can care less and succeed in getting away with it with how little those ideas are discussed.

[miitopiaenjoyer]

Their Pokémon Mystery Dungeons AU would be legendary, honestly...

I think that in a PMD Explorers of Sky adjacent situation, Chat would be the protagonist and Magical John would be the partner character. Chat would wake up on the beach with amnesia and see Magical John passed out next to them. They poke him with a stick and when it turns out he's alive, they initially assume he's in the same situation as they are. But it turns out he just got mugged by the Team Skull equivalent for his Relic Fragment, and his memories are totally intact, lol.

They'd have to talk to Cupcake on Magical John's behalf to help him join the guild because everyone's too afraid of him to hear him out when he tries to ask alone, lmao.

Cupcake would be the cheerful Guild Deputy, and I Want Die would be the intimidating Guild Leader that everyone but Cupcake is afraid to talk to. He looks scary, but he's actually really caring and compassionate on the inside! And the other Miitopia party members would be the guild ensemble! :D

Jefferson would be a Piplup, of course, and I think Gilbert would be an Impidimp. Not sure about the rest. Lemme know if any of you have any ideas! :)

Transcript of the third image's text under the cut!

[TRANSCRIPT:]

IMAGE 3:

Chat: Hey. Can we join your guild?

Cupcake: Um... I'll need to ask I Want Die...

[songofsaraneth]

i will say the one thing about my New Year's Resolutions post going viral is that lots of people have done my own resolutions so much better than me now lmao. blogger who made a whole website with ratings for their Fruit Adventures i love you. i barely remembered to take photos of all my fruits which are now just randomly scattered through my camera roll. tumblr user who managed THIRTY FOUR different pasta shapes in a year where did you find them it took me all year just to hit 20 and then i ran out of shapes available in the 2 cities i checked. showing up to your home with a bowl so i can get a little of each

[epsilonhybrid]

my first attack of the year for @buck120lover !! i was rabbit anon all along

[aliusfrater]

everything ************* posts pisses me off istg

[bookshelfpassageway]

i'm gonna be the one insufferable bastard on this earth that liked everhood 2, huh

[nebulations]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[spaciebabie]

wish there was a mod like minecraft comes alive but more sims-y where i basically help manage a village and make sure the inhabitants are happy + have all their needs filled

[medianatomy]

No, You Don’t Have Superhero Fatigue.

(You have Capitalism Fatigue)

***

Superhero Fiction has been one of the most inspiring and hopeful genres of fiction for decades (85 years to be exact). There’s been thousands and thousands of comics, cartoons, movies, video games, songs—and anything else you can think of—inspired by this genre, and even in the new year of 2025 that still rings true. Marvel has long since departed from its humble golden age comic book days and settled into the cinematic powerhouse that is the MCU…or, was the MCU, before it mutated (no pun intended) from its small start with the Avengers 2012 movie and began churning out new movies, new exclusive mini-series, and more than was ever probably demanded of them in the first place.

For a while it seemed almost untouchable, especially during the Infinity War and Endgame arcs. In some ways it was even a cultural shift, changing comics and superheroes from something considered nerdy and synonymous with neckbeards (and other overweight, terminally online, socially disconnected man-child stereotype variants).

Of course superheroes were always cool, but the MCU made it cool to like superheroes publicly. Dare I say it made them mainstream, at least in the sense of the audience. Suddenly, you weren’t a loser for spending hours theorizing about gifts and clues in each new Marvel film, or gushing about a new character that was going to be adapted and how you as a fan would envision that—you could even make a career out of it if you wanted! Yessir, Marvel was a cinematic GIANT. Until it suddenly just stopped being one, anyways.

So what happened? When did we get tired? It wasn’t too long ago when every trailer and every hint towards a new project would leave audiences (myself very much included) on the edge of our seats, breath bated, brains insatiably hungry for the next course. Marvel used to be all consuming. I’m not good at timelines and did not closely follow the MCU (I haven’t even seen them all in order to this day LOL) so I can’t tell you the exact precise details of its fall-off. I know, from the words of other YouTubers and–partially–my own disinterest, that all the good things seemed to end with Endgame/The Infinity Saga.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean that any other Marvel movie after Endgame is horrible—they’re plenty fun, for sure—but that’s about all you can say about it. They’re fun to watch. The music is cool, the effects are good, suits are accurate, they called back to this movie or comic thing and referenced a meme, etc, whatever. IDK. Not my habitat, not my environmental qualities. But they weren’t all consuming like they used to be. These films didn’t have any time to breathe on their own before an unanticipated sequel or spinoff show was thrown into our faces at top speed.

To give you an idea of what I mean, look at the phase timelines between the first saga and the current saga:

For further clarification, PHASE 1 consists of: Iron Man (May 2008) -> The Incredible Hulk (June 2008) * -> Iron Man 2 (May 7 2010) -> Thor (May 2011) -> Captain America: The First Avenger (July 2011) -> The Avengers (May 2012)

*I'm like 90% sure this film wasn’t intended for the lineup since it has a different production studio altogether and only had its rights bought after failing to meet a sequel deadline to the really weird 2003 movie.

Also, my original idea for this was to say, “hey Phase One had more space between its projects to let them be their own thing and to ensure more time and care goes into the next project because they actually cared about it at some point long ago,” but I might have actually proved myself wrong! Especially with the added information that Marvel just bought out Universal’s rights to make a movie about Hulk because they failed to make a sequel on time…good Lord. Good thing I’m only writing to myself :)

But as my hypothetical audience will see shortly, Marvel’s tendency to prioritize producing content as opposed to creating movies is a running theme in their company, and it bleeds painfully into the MCU—as is apparent with the hundreds of “The MCU is dead/dying/crumbling/declining/ and other synonyms for all those things” video essays that nitpick the same or similar issues with recent movies. And more to the matter, it’s why the phrase “superhero fatigue” even exists.

If you went back in time to 2016 during the height of SJW culture and fourth wave feminism and asked any Marvel film-bro why he thinks the MCU is done for, he would inevitably respond with something like “The SJW Feminazis” or “The Woke” or whatever. And that’s if you completely ignore how deeply rooted in politics the genre has been almost since its conception, and the inherent politics of any media featuring the U.S. government and military, and the fact that the MCU has been peddling propaganda behind shiny CGI along with every movie to ever feature the government and military.

If you asked someone now what ruined it, they’d probably say something about “the woke” or the fact that they just don’t want the stories the MCU is giving out anymore, because the stories themselves are weak and bland and scarily unprovoking. What I’m getting at is that you do not have superhero fatigue. You have Capitalism Fatigue. While I’m never one to praise industries for anything, especially since I am in a certain position of informational access and societal progression where most people are aware that Hollywood has always been an abusive greedy shithole of a place (and Walt Disney was a Nazi), it would just be wrong and an utter disservice to pretend there weren't good people with genuine passion in their work trying to make waves in the only system that allowed them to, because they always did and still do.

But the system itself, however many passionate people helped build it, has unfortunately always existed to make money, even at the cost of what they’re trying to sell. The problem lies in seeing art as a product. The problem is, of course, capitalism. Capitalism is the system that demands money above everything—above your time, health, relationships, and livelihood, and that doesn’t stop at art, because capitalism sees everything and everyone as a source of exploitation to become even richer.

For example, the artists behind Marvel’s CGI, VFX, costuming etc are overworked and underpaid and often get very little in return for what they do.

———

[bedlamsbard]

THAT WAS TOP-NOTCH HOWARD STARK I'M THRILLED.

MCU confirmation on Howard and T'Chanda (T'Challa's grandfather) being pals and T'Chanda giving him the vibranium, and Howard still managing to be exceptionally weird about Steve and being the one to break through to Bucky while being exceptionally weird about Steve, this is the happiest What If has ever made me and probably will ever make me. (that was def AoU Thor though, sorry about...your entire planet being wiped out?)

*Captain America theme plays*

[lin-lizzie]

WOOOOO I finally finished creating D&D character sheets for Habashira and Hiruma! My head hurts.

I've made a drive folder, and they should be editable PDFs, so you can add backgrounds, edit their inventory, or change some spells/other info!

Also, the reason Hiruma has his own folder and like THREE different sheets is because I didn't know which artificer subclass fit him better so I said fuck it lets do both + one without the subclass...

Anyways, I'm totally down to making more for other Eyeshield 21 characters, so I'm open to suggestions! Honestly, I kind of want to do Sena next lol... just gimme whatever D&D race/class you think they'd be and I'll get straight to work!

(Also I recommend looking at dnd5ewikidot if you don't know anything so you can get a better understanding at some stuff, like their class fts and such)

[buggbuzz]

my gender is like meat leaf i think. boy materials in the structure of girl. like im a girl made out of boy things but not in a transman way like i like being female im just. a girl-leaning boygirl. maybe??

[summergoodwife]

Gonna say it again, "Just stop consuming the genre" is THE WORST POSSIBLE RESPONSE to someone complaining about the lack of representation in their preferred genre!! And "Consume other stuff too" is not much better!!! I don't care how much you think varying media consumption is a Good and Holy lifestyle, not everyone wants to do that! There is no obligation to do that and there should not be! Because it's fucking entertainment. It's not a college major.

And! And and and. I would be remiss to not point out that when you tell someone, "If you want well written (minority) just get out of (genre fandom)" you are, regardless of your motivations, rhetorically aligning yourself with the exact same bigots who just want the pro-representation crowd to shut up and go away.

[moriamori]

Even now I feel the ghosts of muscles and nerves wishing to induce pain, as my upper torso works on healing missing skin from ripped kinetic sports tape used in recovery.

The words "Do what you love while you still have the bodily means to do it" rattles through my bones, I'm not that old by human standards but the sense of a countdown remains regardless. Comics are a deep love of mine. They're also the medium to tell a story very, very slowly.

With an average life span of 80 years, knock off my current 30, that's 50 years left. A completed series could take about ten years, many have taken longer. The manic could commit maybe five stories. Realistically, most manage half or a quarter of one. Maybe complete one. Maybe two. And my arms hurt, my spine pinches. My fingers tingle.

With my current funds, I choose between one physio session for the month, or hope to save up enough for an ergonomics assessment of my awful workdesk-setup in a slanted apartment, with a chair too big and items eternally too wide, too heavy for me. "This time," I say, "This time, this will help me get closer to drawing again".

I had wanted to be a freelance illustrator, when I realized my day job would never financially reflect the amount of work I do or don't put in. I wouldn't be able to increase my funds if I took on more work. My job will only realize they can expect more work out of me for the same pay. Getting hired elsewhere, while a possibility, would likely involve obtaining a new job that is twice as stressful and pays a tiny bit more. I don't even want this career.

I used to do commissions. I used to draw like I breathed. The irony of working in an art school is that the continuous exposure to technique and "how to get better", mainly makes you able to see your own mistakes and your own shortcomings over and over again. It's always about improvement. Find the faults, do better. Do better. Do better.

Don't sing this way, sing that way.

I feel like I've lost my voice. I feel like my voice hasn't much to say, actually. I know people loved it, once. People even demand my return.

"I want to see the next pages." "Where's that comic you said you'd do?" "Made any art recently?"

Positive attention doesn't pay bills, doesn't give me lunch, doesn't offer insurance for my physio therapy bills. It almost did. But I would have to keep performing. Keep producing through the burn. And I want to. I do. That's the awful thing in the end. I also want these pages done.

I want to love to create again. I remember I loved. I loved fearlessly. Made fearlessly. I embraced bad art. Minimalist art. Shitty art.

"I know you can make better than this." "You didn't put effort in this one."

Please put effort in me.

I am sorry the previous conditions I worked in were not enough, and the past support was not enough. I did have patreon. I did have some support. I had people willing to pay me for my time and effort and they even had patience. It was almost enough. Almost.

A flower still wilts if only given a slice of the sun it needs. It can try to grow in those conditions but it isn't going to be good.

"It used to be enough before!"

Maybe I grew. Maybe my appetite and my needs got bigger. Kids' meals don't fill me anymore. What right do I have to ask for more, when I have nothing to show for it? When what I make, may end up being terrible regardless?

"Remember you will love," I tell myself once more. Maybe I'll love regardless, in the end. Pages or no pages.

I do love terrible comics, in the end.