So, the future has some cool stuff. There’s UBI, and a shorter work week, and a restoration of some sense of hope and purpose. We can look in the mirror and say “the earth survives, and so do we.”

If you live on one of the Coasts you get access to all sorts of futuristic amenities like AI robot friend-servants, vending machines that dispense cooked-to-order meals, and functional public transport. If you don’t like the sound of that, then you can go to the Interior in search of your bucolic cottagecore dreams of starting a community and cultivating land in a Manor (also known as a Kowloon), as long as your dreams also involve meeting seasonal GLN (Global Logistics Network) production-per-hectare quotas.

If you don’t like either of those, then there’s the Eternal Frontier, a procedurally-generated fantasy VR world. It’s still in beta but it’s already more popular than Minecraft and opiates combined. It’s actually pretty cheap to get your own rig with a haptic suit, if you don’t mind the GLN technically owning your brain in perpetuity. Also, it doesn’t have sex yet, mostly thanks to the labyrinthine legal issues around AI consent and culpability, though there are persistent rumors of a sex-enabled Hardcore Mode available to a select few.

But if none of those sound appealing, there is, regrettably, a nihilistic mercenary death-cult you can join. It’s called the SYM (Surplus Young Men), it’s headquartered in Antarctica and full of blackpilled reprobates who do the GLN’s dirty work. And you might be thinking “that does sound kind of cool in a Warhammer 40K way,” but everyone involved is so lacking in aesthetic sensibility that it’s just unbearably corny. I mean, obviously the more important thing here is all the actual murders they do, but the fact that even paramilitary pseudo-states have a shitty brand just adds insult to injury. It’s like if Outer Heaven sold t-shirts.

Listen, there’s UBI so the future is good, okay? It’s good.

Just some X-Men: Evolution Headcanons

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Some of my favorite panels from Rodney R. Rodney by @violainebriat >w<

If you love a little comedy webcomic with a pure hearted socially awkward lad (in the absolute best and autisticly relatable way) with maybe some creeping growing horror elements?

Please Check Out Rodney R. Rodney!!

Yes he is my blorbo from my comics and I love him. Come join us owo

can’t have an interdimensional baking contest without cracking a few eggs!

@whatinthefuckingninjaturtles @battiegutz @cuuno

baby louise: [is crying]

linda: hey, listen to me. you're out of control, okay?

baby louise: [cries more]

linda: you're a baby. your life is not that hard! you're embarrassing yourself!

(Question remake)

What does Gwin & Kedhur think of Noir of being family with them. Like what do they think of her. Bcs I don't rlly see much uh... interactions between the 3 tbh.

Gwin’s sorta… Passive ig? He’s not exactly a parent to her since welp, he was never there (god stuff smh-). It doesn’t help that he’s so busy. Now that she has the demiplane he made, he sorta tries to check in on her and bring her gifts every one and a while.

Kedhur is incredibly jealous, not because Gwin doesn’t hate her but uh… that she has a mother, and friends, that care about her.

I love your fics and your take on EM! In a peaceful canon verse without Titans where Mikasa is living with the Jaegers on Shiganshina, how do you think they’d get married? I always supposed that without titans to hate, all Eren’s focus and energy would be redirected to Mikasa, especially if she’s living with him and everyone is sure they’ll end up together. Quasi-mediaeval Paradisian society doesn’t seem keen on boyfriends and girlfriends and straight up jumps to engagement at a young age, but somehow I think Eren would already presuppose that they’re together already (a little bit like what you did in With This Ring, a fic I adore)

I think Eren wouldn't fully realize his feelings for Mikasa or make them obvious for quite a while, but his plans for the future would very much be centered around providing for her. Like, to him it would just be a given that he saved her and now she's his responsibility forever, but he doesn't think that critically about why he wants it to be that way and he doesn't talk about it with anyone, so he's the only one privy to these plans.

Then, one day when Eremika are maybe 16 or 17 years old, they're all having dinner together as a family and Carla and Grisha are reminiscing about their wedding and Eren, out of the blue, is like, "When Mikasa and I get married, I want to have the wedding outside." The upcoming marriage is news to everyone but Eren, who doesn't know why everyone is acting so goofy when he thought his intentions were obvious. But Mikasa is sitting across from him at the table, red as a cherry with her hands over her mouth, while Carla and Grisha demand to know when the engagement happened, and Eren is starting to realize that maybe there's a certain procedure to this that he wasn't aware of.

The Challenges of Chaos

Rulek rolled his shoulders, the wounds cleaved into his flesh were closest with the winds of loose souls spiralling from the multitude of bodies - both barely living and dead. The furies shrieking and swooping, ravenous to mindlessly catch the howling spirits. A fluttering cloud of teeth and wings flying around the Daemon Prince before he swatted them aside. A small bundle squirming and nipping at his talons, the draconic-faced prince crushed them like oversized insects and devoured their shaped cavaders. Their essence devoured all the same! 

“Nurgle!” He called out to the thunderous heavens, arms out in offering of this battle’s aftermath. His legionnaires of mortals and daemonic alike were gathering the living whilst more weary furies and warhounds were chasing cowards. “I call onto the unbending fortitude, their corpses are to be left out in the sun. Bring your bounty of flies and disease to swell their pallid flesh! Their meat to spoil and maggots to feast! I bring my offers of death and rotting multitude to you this day! Bestow my worthy with your strength, fill their wounds and strengthen their joints!” 

As the Prince of Chaos called out to the Rot-Lord, the wind carried a deep groan as if the mountains themselves were suffering a sickness. It was sickly-sweet and ripe, carried a foulness that several immediately recognized. Their patron-gods protected their truly devout, those of waning or questioning weren’t so fortunate. The mutation to touch their flesh were slow and insidious, several may never know what they have been gifted until death. Others were howling, roaring and twisting as Nurgle blessed the festering and weak-willed. 

Among them, Rulek chuckles as he pulled the winds onto himself. His body swelled and flexed, forcing the burning wounds with the weep of worthless puss to plap onto the snow-covered earth, sinking and become seeds of corruption. Thorns pushing under his skin, lining his arms and shoulders. Wings flapped once, thrusting the blight-wind onto the quivering corpses as they were exhuming an acceleration of decay. 

The sight of these foolish men of Sarl becoming animated. More and more, the air was becoming fogged of corpse-fog, their flesh becoming green and pockmarking or swelling in pussules. Squirming nests of maggots and other daemonic-invented beings was pushing out in freedom, becoming pupae or immediately set to fly. The clattering chitins of dung-browns and greens flying around their conjurer, the utter offense in the thralls of Misrule as their souls were corrupted, pulled for the aether beyond the north in a hallowing scream. 

Rulek felt the Eye of Nurgle upon him. He knew, by the twisting knots and feverish bloom in his gut and chest was a passing adoring for the Undivided child. A simple touch and it manifested into mutation as his great wings both swelled and withered like a wasting illness, the magics of the Grandfather strengthened his shared champion. Veins crawling outwards the discolored hide and the prince inhaled deep in the sickly storm, then he surged.

A vision.

A sight through that of a blighted crow flying over the Seas of Claws and Chaos, from the isles bewitx Britonnia and the New World beyond.

Ships bearing the sails of intertwined comets upon weathered golds and few heavier cousins, barnacle-rusted and marked dark with a tri-marked syringe…a jovial man swollen of disease and canker smiling right at the crow with his noseless skull, bowed by a massive cauldron upon his back stirred by a happy giggling familiar.

Now Nurgle desires to challenge his pup. Will he survive Festus’ visit? 

To celebrate getting a new scanner, have a batch of uploads! This post: Fan art.

Top: Alebrijes for two more Rivera family members. The armadillo-goat's name is Diego, and he belongs to Abuelita Elena. In life, he used to chew on the laundry as it hung on the line to dry. Elena loved that goat. The rooster-parrot-duck is named Panchito, and he belongs to Enrique. In life, he was a scrawny little rooster that lived on the farm of Enrique's paternal grandparents. As a boy, Enrique always played with him when he visited the farm. He named the bird Panchito, after the rooster in the Three Caballeros (which he was absolutely not supposed to watch and he knew it). Panchito disappeared one night while there was a coyote pack known to be in the area.

Middle: Antonio Madrigal plays with his rainbow boa friend.

Bottom: Chief Mouse Reepicheep and his right-paw Mouse Peepiceek.

Heard some people ramblin on and on about this site, figured I'd give it a go and see what happens.

Shoot me asks or somethin, don't got nothin better to do.

Noods helped me set up one of these blog thingies. I think I'm gonna scrap the stuart potcast and substitute this for it.. cos I like doin things with my hands and typin works out for me :p

President Sunny Roosevelt, America’s gremlin-in-chief, circa 206X.

America emerged from the Polycrisis (202X-204X) as an EU-style union of rump states and “Kowloons,” semi-legitimated fiefdoms that stretch throughout the Midwest and Great Plains. With most of the administration handled at the provincial level, and with foreign policy dictated by the Global Logistics Network, the presidency has been reduced to a largely ceremonial role. Nevertheless, having a vtuber President is definitely a highlight of life in the future.

(Made in Picrew with 500-Style Standing Picture Maker by Iwose)

Prejudice in Hell: Asmodeus (Pt. 1)

{Warning: The following passage is pro only and implies sympathy for a well hated character. If you have a problem with this, you can bring it up with my nonexistent lawyer. Thank you.}

Okay, this needs to be said because no one in this damn Fandom seems to want to acknowledge it. Do you have any idea how hard it would have been to be a non-caucasion borderline-gay man in Hell when all of the fucked up assholes (e.g. racists, homophobes, etc.) were being sent in that same direction? Imagine yourself being literal Demon royalty and yet all of your lesser subjects are harassing you; objectifying you all because you like dick a little bit more than pussy. Mind you, this is the same place where they will make an example of you if you show too much heart or too much decency and call you weak. Asmodeus is a man who showed respect to his previous predecessor who mocked him and spit down on him; Asmodeus was willing to raise the son of his archnemesis; Asmodeus tried to reason with a man that could've just as easily killed him because he loved him; Asmodeus convinced Dean Winchester of all people to not give up on Jack. I could keep on going but I think I've made my point clear. We have a Prince of Hell, literal royalty, one of Hell's oldest and most powerful, who had spent nearly his entire existence as a Demon being shunned and shot down for being a not-white-not-straight white-collar-cowboy with a funny sounding accent and a general sense of common courtesy and proper etiquette. Can you truly blame him for developing a villain complex, running away from his Kingdom, and being afraid to return once his birthright was finally available to him? If you answered yes, very kindly fucketty off.

{Author's Note: None of this has to do with any crimes committed to by the individual mentioned above so it will go greatly appreciated if it isn't brought up. Apologies for having specified this. I have grown used to a lot of stuck-up a-holes who can't shut the fuck up when they should.}

[Also, in case this wasn't clear, a borderline-gay person refers to someone who is primarily drawn to their own gender/sex but will on the rarest occasion be drawn to someone who is of the oposite. So, basically a bi/pan that is nearly straight out gay/les but not quite.]

Ally: Fine! Judge me all you want, but…

Ally, pointing at Billy: Married a lesbian

Ally, pointing at Georgia: Left a man at the alter

Ally, pointing at Elaine: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer

Ally, pointing at Renée: Threw a girl with no limbs into the ocean

Ally, pointing at John: Lives in a box!

X-Men: Evolution Icons

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THE FLYING EAGLE

NOMBRE: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. AÑO DE NACIMIENTO: 1165. NACIONALIDAD: sirio-libanesa. TEMÁTICA: Asesino sirio, Gran Mentor. FC: Francisco Randez. FANDOM: Assassin’s Creed. — writings: the flying eagle.