#maybe in the future idk

[autisticlancemcclain]

It’s a stupid thing to be hurt about. Lance knows it is. He knows absolutely firsthand, now, how much worse things can be; hell, he has been through objectively worse! Several times! He was blown up! It gave him brain damage!

His eyes burn, anyway, and the lump in his throat is impossible to choke down.

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he mutters harshly to himself, voice hoarse. “It doesn’t — it’s not serious. Chill out.”

He’s been repeating the same mantra to himself on and off all day. Longer than that, really.

But this time it doesn’t work. He knows why, but he thought he was — he’s supposed to be okay with this. He’s an adult. He’s eighteen years old! It all feels so — stupid and juvenile, and he’s not stupid and juvenile, and it’s not even anyone’s fault and there’s no fucking reason to be mad, except that he’s four goddamn years old, apparently, and can’t fucking handle a situation without crying like a stupid fucking toddler.

It’s just that he —

He clenches the quilt tightly in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut.

He’s been working on this for over a year.

They don’t have a ton of free time, as paladins. They’re constantly on missions or training or planning or spending hours in the healing pod as a result of the missions and training and planning. There’s always a million things to do. But there are moments, here in there, when at least one hand is free, when there’s time to wind down, have some time to yourself.

Lance has been using his rare pockets of time to collect scraps of fabric, from worn curtains to torn flight suits to beautiful decorative things gifted on diplomatic missions. It was something he did with his Abuela at home, from when he was barely big enough to see the sewing machine from her lap, and the sound of the piercing needle and weaving thread is a comfort, now, something familiar he can do with his hands, something to remind him why he’s on this haunted castle in the dead of space, billions of lightyears away from home.

He’s proud of it. It’s by no means the first quilt he’s ever made and it shows in the straight lines of the stitching, the swirling patterns of the patches. It was a calming process but a difficult one, too, and he’s poured his heart and soul into it, seeing together the reds and blues and greens and yellows and blacks to make something solid of their frantic time in space. He’s been too excited to keep it to himself, even, mentioning it here and there, bringing it up during conversation at dinner.

He hadn’t expected everyone to drop what they were doing and write a fucking poem about it, obviously, but he had — he thought there’d be something. Anything. When he draped it pointedly over his lap during movie night, tracing the stitches with his pointer finger, he’d expected someone to say, woah, cool, you make that yourself? You were telling us about it!

His face burns hot with shame, and he swipes angrily under his eyes. How fucking arrogant. It’s just a — it’s a fucking blanket made of worn scraps. They’re fighting a war. He can’t believe he expected a fucking — fluffing of his ego, or whatever. It’s embarrassing. It’s a child whining for their mother to watch them do half a cartwheel.

He balls up the fabric, resisting the urge to rip it to shreds, and stomps down the hallway, blowing past a bewildered Keith. He nearly slams right into the wall as he rounds the corner, staggering to the side at the last minute, yanking open the hatch of the garbage chute and stuffing the quilt in.

“Fucking — come on.” The stupid fucking quilt is too bulky. He slams both palms flat against the bunched fabric and shoves, but his arms shake, and the harder he presses the more frustrated tears well up and steam down his face, and the weaker his arms gets. “Go — in!”

He rears his fist back and slams it into the ball of fabric as hard as he can, but the stupid thing stays jammed. With a shout of frustration he kicks the side of chute, hard, but all that does is damn near break his toe, so he pounds the quilt with his fists again and again and again and —

“Fuck off!” he screams, kicking the stupid chute one more time before giving up and slamming the lid back down on it. It doesn’t do anything but make the whole thing look a thousand times more pathetic; his stupid childish quilt stuffed in a garbage chute where it belongs but refusing to slide down like the ugly eyesore it is. The sobs that he’d been choking down since the beginning of that stupid fucking movie tear their way out of him and there’s not a goddamn thing he can do to stop them, so he turns and flees, leaves the ugly thing behind him, sprinting all the way to his room, furiously wiping his eyes. He throws himself on his bed at full speed and nearly cracks his head on the wall when he bounces on the mattress. He snatches the nearest pillow and hugs it to his chest, shoving his face so deeply into the down that he can hardly breathe, sobbing so hard he has to choke down vomit.

He’s a fucking idiot. A fool. A goddamn child.

He cries until he passes out.

[sometimesanequine]

6.25.2024

[marsisoffline]

While I think of an animatic to do, here’s another piratetheft tweet thing

[crossf1recreat1ons]

“We are so similar…

…yet we are so different”

Little scenario I came up with of Springtron meeting Cobratron for the first time ^^

It’s also the first time that he met a Tron clone after he was rebuilt and reprogrammed by Mechanica and their team (just a bit of ARMS Fanon for y’all ^^)

[valleynix]

Speaking of RL, I think you should eventually make something similar but with tptm. Like maybe a similar story but individual routes & us being able to make the choices and everything. I would love to see what endings you’d have planned out and what minor things would change the ending that we don’t even realize

oh god 😭 that’s not a bad idea but it would take so much work unfortunately. like mapping out everything along with the actual story being told would be rewarding but excruciating

[soldrawss]

I uh, started this as a little wholesome thing but it QUICKLY got out of hand, anyway part 2 here.

[spookberry]

Idiot to Idiot communication

[artsymeeshee]

I just realized Stan has a crack in his glasses in your newest Instinct page

Now he and Ford match <3

[teh-inggris]

pvp civ nation...... this aint much but pls take my contribution for this series bc im going insane i love hate this man so much get him out of my head

[abalidoth]

I am legit slightly envious of my wife's artificial lens implants for the same reason.

So I have to get a root canal and in preparation today I got a temporary crown.

Now this might sound weird but like, yall follow me so I’m assuming you know I’m a big transhumanist/robot girl. Anyway, I have an artificial tooth. And it feels just, wildly affirming?

Like, this is gender affirming care lmao. I’m serious.

[bet-on-me-13]

Harley and Ivy meet Jazz while she's Interning at Arkham, and think she's their daughter from the Future. Somehow.

They're not wrong.

Turns out the Fentons decides to test a Prototype Ghost Portal one day 18 years ago and accidentally made a Time Portal instead. Deeming the experiment a Failure, they were just about to close it and start again when a Baby was launched out of it and into Jack's arms.

The moment he looked into her Eyes he knew he wanted to keep her. Maddie was much the same.

They did Try to return her at first, but turns out the Portal was Unstable and constantly shifting between dozens of different TimeZones, so they could never find where/when she came from. She could either be from Earth 18 years later, or Mars 5 Million Years Ago. No way to tell.

So without any other option they decided that she was their Daughter now.

It helped that she looked so much like them, and that both had been in the Lab for 9 Months straight building the Portal so nobody would question the sudden Baby. They just told the Hospital they had an At Home Delivery and officially made her their Daughter.

They raised her believing that she was their's Biologically, because after a while they honestly forgot she wasn't.

Now Jazz is working as an Intern at Arkham Asylum, and has met the 2 Patients she will be helping take care of.

Doctor Pamela Isley, and Doctor Harleen Quinzel. Aka, Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn.

This should be an interesting internship.

[dizzybizz]

gillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgillgill

[nikaserb]

I do not know if anyone saw it, but there was one video on tiktok where Mikey asked Leo if they would be together in other universes too (maybe I remember incorrectly, but something similar was there), and it further showed that they were like Gumball and Darwin, a butterfly and a flower, AND LIKE A CANDLE. I loved this association with them so much, and I really would like to at least sketch it while thinking about it qkwjqkqwkqqwk

I would like to make a full art, where it would look more like they are like a candle, but I do not know if it will work :(

Anyway, here!

[bunnieswithknives]

I feel bad for neglecting Hazel so much, I do have many thoughts about her.. and also a mermaid au that im probably not going to do anything with

[thestrongestjewel]

I have this concept where clover revives after the barrier is broken and they get to reunite with all their friends, but i wanted to add more onto that and make them have a sibling-like relationship with frisk!! they're so adorable,,,

idk maybe i'll talk more about it in the future

[thehealingsystem]

if you ever wonder why I don't interact with the traumagenic community as a traumagenic system this is why