#mech Monday

[inquisitorpsyduck]

Comstar Therapist: An Urbanmech possessed by the spirit of a 20th century ancient VW isn't real and can't hurt you

Hurbie:

[find-me-in-hell]

honestly boss im just trying to make it from melanie king monday to fuck your train friday unscathed

[trans-jon-rights]

Wake up babe, new design for The Blorbo by your favourite artist just dropped

Mechanism!Jon belongs to @therealandian from his fic Search Through The Stars, and the design has been taken from this post by @dcartcorner !

[ID in alt text]

Close ups :

[yodawgiheardyoulikemecha]

SLAMhound by Duncan Lindbo Via Flickr: "THEY sent A SLAMHOUND on Turner's trail in New Delhi, slotted it to his pheromones and the color of his hair. It caught up with him on a street called Chandni Chauk and came scrambling for his rented BMW through a forest of bare brown legs and pedicab tires. Its core was a kilogram of recrystallized hexogene and flaked TNT." -William Gibson, Count Zero This was inspired, of all things, by my dog's walking harness/vest. It's red as well, and the idea of the red vest becoming armor plates strapped over an agile dog-mech seemed like a cool one. As for the name, I defy you to come up with a cooler, more cyberpunk-y name than Gibson did with "slamhound"... In an effort to use more interesting colors, I went with dark blue for the mechanical body parts, which gave me a nice opportunity to use the Friends saddle for the waist.

[clementineskesh]

You look like you listen to Friends at the Table

[mechsbrackets]

I've finished looking through the submissions for the Best Mechanisms Quote/Line bracket! 40 submissions gave us 169 different quotes! So many! I have the general quote and number of nominations together, but I have yet to go through and double check exact wording and punctuation for most of them, so no full list tonight sadly. I can give the top 3 though:

"Fuck you, and fuck your train!" 16 nominations

"Fuck the ship!" / "I do." / "Ew!" 13

"But any window with a hammer is also an emergency exit." 9

Thank you to everyone who's submitted nominations already! Everyone else, there's still 5 days to submit nominations, so make sure you do so before the deadline!

[1shimaru]

my fit was so cute today, I had two low braids, my keroppi hoodie, jean shorts, and black knock off docs. I also had a bandaid on my knee bc my popcorn walls scratched it up p bad last night when I atretched to big 😅😅 I thought the stinging would go down if I covered it but it didnt ://

o and then I did a thorough clean on the stove!! and by thorough, I mean i took a toothpick to the crevices (theres a lot of uneven bits bc our stove was placed wonky! I hate it!). Im p proud of all the work I put in :D

[chazz-is-a-zelda-fan]

i made silly bracelets w my mom rn and i really like them actually

[cosmicsynapse]

I made this in year three of my illustration program and it still tears me up a bit but I love this character and I love my little alien bee post office. It's going to be a love letter to a lot of the action adventure manga from the 80s and 90s I love, once I properly draw it.

commissions

[bzedan]

I just got back from a dentist appointment and dang, I lucked out extremely when I chose this office. I love them! They are kind! We remember the small talk of each others’ lives! They let me wear headphones if I need it and hold a stuffed animal, and think it’s cute I pick the same bird documentary to watch each time.

I’d liked my dentist before we moved state, but this office has shown me an acme of what healthcare could and should be like. They respect my choices and are proud of the improvements we’ve made in my dental health and tell me so (we had… a lot of work to do). They’re absolutely set a standard I judge everything else by. It’s so maddening that they’re an outlier. I feel spoiled that I had the luck to choose this office.

[jovine]

Someone's dog shit in our yard and I already woke up late and didn't have a real breakfast and need to call a company unprompted and I only have one pair of shoes that fit nicely bc of t so now those are soaking wet bc of course I stepped in it AIHHSBDNDNCJSJDNEJ

[inquisitorpsyduck]

I have a mini featured in MechanicalFrogs Catapult video and...

Featured while playing ZZ Top's "Legs" above it

Therefore the old Ral Partha Catapult will be known as the Sexy Legs Catapult

I have spoken.

[bookshopsbizarreblog]

Also, as was mentioned by Kofi during a stream, this is *sorta* canon.

I cut down the audio for convenience.

Audio crimes :3

This is why @miralines and I shouldn't be allowed to be in a room together

[theurbanmechcomesforthee]

ITS MAULER MONDAY

MAULER IIC CONCEPT!

Finally got around to putting this together! Wanted to make a IIC mech for the longest time! As much as I wanted to make this a UAC/2 boat as the Dragon intended, the allure of UAC/5s was far too great for me to resist. Also switched out the C3 for an ECM suite. Cause why not.

[dollzcomix]

mech pilot monday mech pilot monday

[fushiglow]

satosugu mailman au 💌

a very special delivery for @kymsys's birthday! how many days will it take for satoru to fall in love with his new mailman? let's find out!!

here's part one for my tumblr pals to enjoy! however, i'll be posting this work over quite a few days over on twitter/x, so please head over there if you want to follow along! if you don't have an account, i'll be uploading the entire thing to my ao3 when it's done — so don't fret ♥️ enjoy the fic!!

There were three things Gojō Satoru loved above all else: sweets, scale model kits, and sleep. He was a simple man in that sense — really, he asked for very little except a healthy supply of sugary treats, the occasional plastic mech, and an undisturbed lie-in seven days a week. So, when the shrill ring of his doorbell wrenched Satoru from a beautiful dream at exactly 8am on a Monday morning? Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. Now, Satoru wasn’t an unreasonable person. He understood that the rest of the world started moving a little earlier than him — which is why Satoru had taken special measures to protect his precious rest without hindering anyone else. He’d chosen a job that allowed him to work from home, forgone the company of a housemate in favour of living alone, and — most importantly for a hobbyist like Satoru who ordered more kits, paints, and crafting tools than any one person needed — installed a secure parcel drop box outside his front door, preventing the need for anyone to pester him. That’s why Satoru didn’t bother getting out of bed after the first ring, assuming that the person who’d decided to disturb him would eventually figure it out for themselves. Perhaps they were a bit slow though — because less than thirty seconds later, the doorbell came screaming through the house again. Swearing into his pillow, Satoru pulled the duvet up to his ears. All he could do was hope they’d leave quickly so he could snatch at least some sleep in the 45 minutes left until his alarm went off. No such luck. Right when Satoru thought it was safe to relax, the doorbell started up again — and this time, it didn’t stop. With a stream of profanities falling from his lips, Satoru hauled himself out of bed, seeing red as he stomped down the stairs and marched across the hallway to the front door. He flung it open with a frustrated snarl, preparing to share some choice words with the impatient piece of shit on the other side — only for his insults to die on his tongue at the sight of the man standing before him. The broadest shoulders he’d ever laid eyes on; thick arms, tanned and toned; a muscular torso tapering down to a tiny waist — and all packaged in a uniform, for god’s sake. When Satoru finally managed to lift his jaw off the floor, he looked up at the man’s face and the damn thing unhinged from his skull all over again. He was all sharp cheekbones and sunkissed skin and the sweetest smile Satoru had ever seen. Perhaps a little too sweet now that he really looked at it. ‘I think your doorbell is broken.’

Sure, the guy was hot — easily the prettiest person Satoru had ever seen — but that didn’t stop his eye from twitching at the blatant passive aggression masked behind that sickly sweet smile. Satoru matched it with one of his own. ‘I assure you, it’s not.’ ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Satoru didn't think he seemed sorry in the slightest — even if his voice did sound like melted chocolate. ‘I’ve got a parcel for Gojō Satoru?’ When hot mailman tilted his head to the right, a lock of glossy black hair fell into his face. Too short to secure in his bun and too short to tuck behind his ear, he simply brushed it away from warm eyes the colour of honey. Satoru wondered if every part of him was as gorgeous. ‘It needs a signature.’ Shocked out of his stupor, Satoru's gaze travelled to the box at the right of the door. ’The regular guy always puts them in there.’ Hot mailman simply beamed at him. ‘Do I look like the regular guy to you?’ No, Satoru thought. There’s nothing regular about you. As though he could read minds, hot mailman winked at him. ‘Then I’ll need a signature, please.’ And god — he was so effortlessly charming that, for the first time in his life, Satoru found himself speechless. For a long moment, he simply stood there, gawping like an idiot. When hot mailman eventually quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction, Satoru had no choice but to take the signature pad being waved at him, managing to make a hash of his name before wordlessly handing it back. Having completely and utterly embarrassed himself, Satoru had started to retreat into the safety of his home when a strong hand closed around the edge of the door. Hot mailman popped his head around the side. ‘You forgot your parcel.’ Satoru watched those amber eyes as they slid down the length of his body — and hot mailman's sickly sweet smile morphed into a devilish grin. ‘Your clothes, too.’ Glancing down at himself, Satoru’s heart stopped in his chest when he realised he’d answered the door in nothing but his boxers — and not fitted Calvin Kleins that emphasised what he was working with either. No, the ratty, stretched out Digimon boxers he’d owned since he was 17. With a mortified squeak, Satoru snatched the parcel from hot mailman’s hands and slammed the door in his face, uncaring of whether his stupid bangs got caught in the doorframe. Tossing the package onto the floor, Satoru brought his palms to his rapidly heating cheeks, taking a moment to stare into the silence of his hallway. Then, he summoned all the air in his lungs and let out the single loudest ‘fuck!’ he’d ever produced. Hot mailman’s beautiful laughter travelled down the entire length of the driveway.