Meowdlion - Meowd's Blog, I Guess

blaze can do this

The Tumblr Funnyman used to be a cornerstone of the ecosystem. The species has since become endangered, with the majority having left after the porn ban, or transitioned into funny women

memes are fun and relatable and all that, but don't let them discourage you. all of that stuff that doesn't make it into the final product is part of how the final product gets made

I love that the four corps in Lancer are like ... Amazon, Pfizer, Lockheed-Martin, and then like a Discord server filled with trans women with fursonas and felony hacking convictions

it really is crazy that if your body happens to look a certain way then its presence in any sexual capacity is automatically deemed "fetish material" and the people decrying it are convinced that they're somehow protecting your dignity. i think if you can't see someone express attraction to somebody with an amputation or who's 300lb+ or any other bodily variation without calling them a disgusting monster then that might actually speak less to your righteous dedication to the marginalized and more to your bigoted neurotic hangups about our bodies and sexual agency

IN THE IMMORTAL WORDS OF HARRISON II (LONG MAY HE REIGN):

I've come to make an announcement, the Union Investigative Bureau is a bitch ass motherfucker they hanged my fuckingfather. That's right, they took their alien loving hippie laws out and hanged my fucking father and they said their jursidiction was THIS BIG and I said "That's disgusting." so I'm making a call-out post on my Omni dot com. Union Investigative Bureau you got a small Bicameral Choir, it's the size of this Orrery except way smaller, and guess what? Here's what my Bicameral Choir looks like. That's right baby, all points, no quills, no pillows, look at that it looks like two Bicamerals and a bong! They hanged my father, so guess what? I'm gonna become Immortal! That's right, this is what you get! My super laser Decorp! Except I'm not gonna Decorp as a Humunculus. I'm gonna go higher. I'm pissing off THE MOON! How do you like that Union? I PISSED OFF THE MOON YOU IDIOT! You have 23 hours until the Think Tank breaks the fucking FCA, now get out of my fucking sight before I piss on you too

*whisperwhispermumblewhisper*

mech pilot who got separated from their mecha when their civilisation was domestication and their military got dissolved. despite all attempts to help them, they still have persistent phantom sensation from the limbs that they used to have but no longer do; constantly missing the feeling of a rifle in hands that don't feel the right size, feeling blind and deaf without all of the enhanced feedback from sensors capable of a hundred times greater acuity than their own body

eventually, however, one particular affini reads their medical file and comes up with an idea. she files a notice of intent on the pilot, then swiftly heads over to their hab and whisks them away the next morning. they don't even bother resisting; having long since given up hope that things will get better, and unable to imagine any way they could get worse

the affini takes them home and lays them down on a surgery table, promising them that soon, everything is going to feel right again. they expect nothing, presuming her to be lying to them, but they feel a great weight behind their eyes, and a moment later, they fall closed.

it feels like they've only blinked, but when they reopen them, everything is different. every sense that was missing is suddenly there again. they look down at their arms to find them just the right size; their body no longer one of flesh, but of gleaming white metal plates, pulsating with thin green lines of a material they don't recognise. it takes them a moment to realise what it is: under their metal skin are muscles and tendons made out of vines, their former optical sensors replaced with sight blossoms, and their rifle woven back together from a mixture of bark, chambered with rounds made of amber

most of all, they are no longer alone. they could feel their mech before, but it's different this time; as if the sensation surrounding them isn't quite their own, but a body that is both theirs and not. a faint, slow pulsing that shifts in time with every movement, guiding them to know exactly where to look, and what to do. moments later, they hear a voice whispering- not into their ear, but directly into their mind, just like their onboard AI used to:

"Good morning, my precious little Pilot."

writing is so fun

Amazing decision by bandai to make her gunpla compatable