#I'm getting faster!!

[hero-of-the-wolf]

my girls <3

[starcurtain]

Please someone redraw this with Dr. Ratio and Aventurine because this is the exact vibe they have in my head post-Penacony.

[greyias]

Oh look, it seems everyone has been opted into the unfortunate "experiment" now. For everyone who has been blissfully using the old UI up until now, welcome to hell :)

Do you not like hell? Do you want to leave and crawl back up into the sunlight of the old UI? Well, have I got a link for you! A beautiful tumblr user (who is not me) has gone and fixed things beautifully for you already: https://github.com/enchanted-sword/dashboard-unfucker

You will need to have Tampermonkey installed on your browser of choice, and once that's done, just go to the github link above, and peruse the readme to install. And voila! You have your old dash back!

The authors of XKit Rewritten said during the experiments that at the time, since this was an "experiment" they weren't going to implement anything to revert to the old UI (although who knows if they'll do it now). And the dashboard unfucker has worked beautifully enough for me to where I genuinely couldn't tell if they had ended the experiment or not.

[squishysquids]

even more tails doodles yippee!!!

[pand1on]

learned helplessness

[heuheu-art]

First - Previous - Next

he's going to have a nasty surprise once he hears about shamura

[peace-hunter]

Optimus wasn't a fuzzy baby most of the time but sometimes he simply refused to fall asleep unless Alpha Trion came by to tell him a story. Prima learned to recognize and accept when this happened and how to deal with it (and was only mildly bitter about not being the favorite. again </3), he just wishes his other siblings would listen to him when he said so :/

(continues under read more)

baby prime orion au

if anyone asked Orion why he insisted on sneaking into the archives despite the amount of trouble it constantly got him into, he would say he's trying to find the matrix. and he wouldn't be lying!

but... he also wouldn't be saying the whole truth either.

it's just. he wouldn't know how to explain how those old recordings almost make the grief and longing for something he can't put his finger on go away, if only for a moment. how for barely a second he can almost feel complete despite the gaping hole in his chest.

it never lasts, but even a glimpse of relief is better than sadness that feels never ending.

(he just wishes Alpha Trion's voice didn't make him so goddamn sleepy. he wouldn't get caught nearly as much if he didn't get lulled to sleep half of the time :/)

[disaster-magician]

Angsty teenage shenanigans have me so hyped

(Fake screenshots! These are fan made based on incorrect quotes and not in the game)

[ricky-mortis]

They're the best of each other!

[pigeonstab]

Wolf

[storytellering]

Ice statue, I'm going to melt you

[yuwuta]

olympics coming up…… athlete aus on the mind….. satoru as a swimmer….. unreasonably large wingspan…. huge hands..... thinks “official” competitions and tournaments are boring because he can’t use the goofy purple googly eyes goggles he likes to practice in…… practices at ungodly hours solely because he likes when the pool is empty because that means you’ll dip your feet in at the edge and be there to greet him with a kiss when he’s finished his laps….. they bring up the stats board and it’s just his name ten times before the next fastest person and he could still lap them, and even tho he’ll always put so much pressure on himself to be the best, it’s worth it to have you hold his face and tell him you’re proud of him... he’s gotten so much merch from events and sponsorships and he used to think they just created clutter but that all changes when you start to wear his clothes (esp the ones with his name on it… he’s not proud to admit that does Something to him)…. always looks up to the stands when he finishes a race and if he knows you’re not there, he looks right at the camera, draws an infinity sign with his fingers, and blows a kiss (which, some commentators routinely call “unsportsmanlike conduct” but he doesn’t care, and always, publicly says he’ll pay the fees if it means blowing a kiss to his girl at home)

[hellenhighwater]

What's your work schedule like? How do you manage to complete so many art projects? (I can barely even start /cries)

Most of the time my job stays pretty firmly in the 8-5 window, and most of the time I make it home for lunch. (I do work in-person 99% of the time.) The studio co-op is reserved for student use on two weeknights and mornings on the weekend, so on the other three weeknights I usually get home, get out of my suit and heels and into work clothers and head to the studio by 6 or so, pausing to grab a quick snack and pester my pets. I'm usually at the studio until 9p-1am and then go home, so those nights are not super useful for non-pottery activity. On the other weeknights, I get house chores done, or do photography for finished work, or make non-pottery art, or do my grocery runs, or whatever. It's a bit over an hour of drive time to and from the studio so I usually have a fic or audiobook on triple speed to pass the time.

Weekends are the wildcard--I have a couple DnD campaigns and a surprisingly active social life, and often shove more pottery time in on top of that, so it's not unusual for me to be at the studio until well after midnight on the weekends too. Because I have keys to the studio and can basically be there whenever I want outside of student hours, I adjust my ceramics schedule around other things a lot.

Now that it's getting light out in the evenings, I tend to get to and stay at the studio later into the night!

[modmad]

working on the Lux story is such a tonic, I'm trying to pace posting so these are from quite a way in the future but he turned out so CUTE i just had to share! :D

[bloodyfries]

Hualesbian au but the only thing that changes is just the gender of hulian. Xie Lian is androgynous/dresses masc(ish)/uses he/she though, so some people think she is a man. Ik this sounds contrived but hear me out

-

SQX: You should change into your female form, it's so much fun!

XL: I am a woman

SQX: ...

XL: ...

SQX: Even better!

-

PM: So you and Hua Cheng huh? I hear she's an evil seductress that has broken many men's chastity, though she's not my type I think you should be warned

XL: What's my chastity have to do with a friendship between two women?

PM (forgot XL was a woman): oh... well you never know

XL: ????

-

Jian Lan (who simply forgot that XL the princess XL and the scrap god XL are the same person): He's the father!

The whole court room: gasps

FX: ????

MQ: ...

XL: ...no

-

HX: Her Highness said-

SQX: Oh! You actually knew that he was a woman?

HX: *flashbacks to all the anatomically correct drawings he's seen, and HC constant yapping*

HX: unfortunately

-

also I think it would be really funny if people started getting convinced that XL has a sister because MQ and FX switch between his Highness and her Highness

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."