#surface bar

[seraphauna]

new surface bars <3

[r-h-e-t]

(Deltarune Chapter 3 Spoilers)

So. About Ramb.

Excerpt from the "Grillby's Rogues' Gallery" Newsletter comic:

I can't even begin to guess at the implications of this.

[heylabodega]

I’ve started doing the ‘closing shift’ every night before I go to bed, which is literally just 5-15 minutes of basic tidying and tasks like making sure the dishes are all done and clothing is in the general correct area for it to be. You know, normal stuff adults are doing daily. Just enough that if someone saw my apartment unexpectedly I wouldn’t be mortified. But for some reason calling it this — and I do say “time for closing” each time — makes me do it more.

Anyways just a reminder to make stuff fun for your brain not presidential fitness test for your brain.

[bucketfullofstrawberries]

..WELL! Everybody ELSE seems to be doing it,

...and there ARE a lot of Narrator (& Stanley) designs I've been meaning to try and, at the very least, DOODLE,,,;

SO--!!

SEND IN YOUR NARRATORS, STANLEYS, CURATORS, TIMEKEEPERS & WHATEVER WONDERFUL DESIGNS YOU MAY HAVE IN YOUR POSSESSION, BOYS (/GN) & I'LL DO MY UPMOST VERY BESTEST BEST TO DRAW AND/OR DOODLE THEM!!!!

Though I will apologize for if getting all of them done and dusted takes longer than expected. But I'm WILLING to TRY!!

GO CRAZY!!!

[bixels]

If you're getting back into a portal kick and want something that has the same vibe while also being fresh and still Portal, I would recommend you check out the Portal 2 mod "Portal Stories: Mel". It's very good and takes place just before the events of Portal 2. You play as one of the athletes Aperture used in the early days who was testing out a cryostasis pod that no one remembered to set an alarm for.

I've played it! It was pretty good, I enjoyed the experience.

[that-ineffable-devil]

Edwin lovingly chastising Niko for sitting on the roof ledge by saying "you don't want to catch your death."

The same episode in which she literally catches her death by stepping in front of Crystal.

And she just sweetly responds "I won't."

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[abigail]

it’s only been a week but i think i actually love my new job so much .. i am not very good at it but that’s okay, it’s a new job and it’s been one week … but yeah everyone is just really lovely and (it feels like) there’s no major pressure on me to be a certain way or whatever and my manager is wonderful it’s like.. the opposite of my previous job. i actually feel good about going in and i feel like i can actually talk to the people there without being judged or whatever and that i can just actually be myself .. idk !! and i know i still have a lot to learn but the job itself is just .. so nice.. like the customers are really nice too and it’s fun going through the donations (trying v hard not to buy everything that belonged to someone’s grandma lol) but yeah. it’s just.. nice.. i think having spent the last two years feeling.. the way i did (about my job at least), it’s just.. nice. it’s nice to feel like they care, it’s nice to know despite being a bit of a weird and awkward person sometimes they don’t care about that and they still like me regardless.. at least i hope so lol it feels like they do and some have told me they do which is cute lol but yeah. added bonus it’s like a 15 minute walk from where I live (I’m going to be saving at least £80 a month by walking to work rather than getting the bus into the city yippie) AND ! the route to/from the shop goes past one of the local churches and they have a huge bread box outside and crates of fruit all totally free for passer-by’s to take as they wish so yay I get to go past it nearly every day and can get free bread and fruits and veggies :-) today I got a free loaf of bread, two cinnamon buns, and a small bunch of bananas :-) yippie !!!!!

[tempestmothstorm]

Thinking about this one guy justifying ai art with something like “go ahead and make your art but the bar is raised now” and it’s like buddy the bar is lowered now thanks to you

[thealexandriaarchives]

[kluskinoodles]

Silas: Hey- uh... it's not all bad Hector, who just got out of the hospital: Are you fucking serious? THEY SHAVED MY HAIR AND MY BEARD! I LOOK FUCKING STUPID! Martin for some reason: ...Like this cat...

Hector, full on sobbing:

[wrinklemcdinkle]

is this a weird crossover of fandoms. probably. but-

riptide pirates as trolls!!!? ouuughwa? gillion and the tidestriders whaaat, they started their tours after the 2nd movie.. trolls were kinda suspicious of them for a while with good reason but now they’re well renowned!

i just think they’re neat :D

[lazybakerart]

Hi!

I saw you reblogged a gif set from A Murder at the End of the World and I just wanted to squeeeeeee because I finished a rewatch a couple of days ago and it's so so good (and sad).

❤️

it is SO LOVELY. it's one of those shows that sticks with you (just like The OA does by the same creators). it's quiet and earnest and it's a mystery that by the end of it it doesn't even matter who really did it because it's not about the killer its about darby and bill T___T.

[pagesofkenna]

i dont think its pedantic of me to wonder where the Last Of Us people get their bullets from

like when Joel tells Ellie he's gonna put new strings on her guitar; where did he get those? are they leftover guitar strings scavenged from a factory that's been defunct for over twenty years? is someone in their survivor town making guitar strings?

is everyone's winter gear remnants of pre-outbreak manufacturing or is someone managing to restore a semblance of a supply chain? because those parkas don't look hand-stitched. where would the fabric be coming from?

at one point in season 1 a woman gives Ellie a menstrual cup with very little instruction, and Ellie's just like 'oh huh, cool' and i have to grapple with the fact that this teen girl's going to have to figure out how to use this silicone device that must be older than she is with only written instruction. surely it's not used right?? how many fresh unused menstrual cups do these people have stockpiled?? or do they have to sanitize them and pass them on???

[rainbluealoekitten]

LMAO okay fuck i gave in and started looking up attachment styles, which i thought was bullshit bc i thought there was only insecure-avoidant and anxious-avoidant (other than secure), but there's FEARFUL-AVOIDANT? and the more i'm reading about this the more it makes sense, like why i can't stay in relationships (romantic AND platonic) and why i am just 24/7 scared but oh so lonely so. great :D one article said this was the worst style! it is sort of validating to know that this is common and doesn't make me Evil and Bad At Love (my previous beliefs) but also.... tf do i do with this

[marsupials-of-mars]

So, I don't think Stede wanted to kill Ned. Ed told him not to, and he did, but I don't think he wanted to.

I know it's been said that both sides still don't fully understand why the other would want them or the kind of life they have. They both think they have to change to be worthy, no matter what they are directly told by the other. It's a fundamental part of their identity that they hate their prior lives.

Think of the first scene of the season, a rugged bearded pirate stede killing his romantic rival in cold blood, an act of utter devotion and unbridled passion, and Ed loves it.

This part of his identity extends to how he expresses himself romantically. I'm not saying that he can't just be eager, like in the second kiss and the sex, especially because he's finally freeing himself from repression of his sexuality. But think about the context.

He wants to show Ed he cares. Ed has defended him with force. He sees Ed being berated and tortured, and he can finally do something about it. Ed tells him not to do it, but Ed is only saying that to spare his fragile mind. Ed would kill Ned in a second, and now Stede is a real pirate, and he is going to show Ed that he can pull his weight, protect his love, use his mean voice, be a proper captain.

So, afterwards, we have Ed, who didn't want Stede to kill Ned for not only Stede's sake, but for his own. Because he's even more sick of the brutality now than ever, he was finally a little settled with a boyfriend who can take things slow with him, and help him appreciate beauty. But he won't say that, because stede made his choice, and he's here to comfort him, because he must be having a horrible time, with how he's handled killing in the past.

But we also have Stede, who catches him entirely off guard. Because he sees the killing of Ned as a GRAND ROMANTIC GESTURE. The shedding of the self to become something new and worthy, not just for Ed, but because he said he wanted to be a pirate, and he'll never go back on that again. So he assumes, after this grand gesture, that this is the perfect moment for their first time. Because it's so romantic! And he even goes in with gusto, how sexy!

He's completely blindsided by Ed saying it was a mistake. Because if he went to the lengths of killing a man in cold blood to make absolute certain that he would do anything for this love to work, then Ed saying it was a mistake means that there's no hope of it ever not being a mistake.

And Ed watches Stede change like this, trying to be happy for him because it's not his place to tell him not to be a pirate after everything. And obviously Stede was spooked by the idea of starting new, plain lives, enough that he refused theirs and left his own twice.

And he watches, knowing that he's taught him this way and played a huge role in hardening him, making him lose so much of the softness and beauty that he fell in love with.

Because he can't help but defile beautiful things.