#i'm so annoyed like wtf

[robbiefischer]

playing coral island is not curing my depression but it's definitely making my depressive episode about 1000000% softer and cuter. i guess that's something.

[erineas]

I might be busy but i'll always have time to tease you, kitten @unnamedcrane 🥰

Hypno eye version under the cut:

Based on this

Dr. Baggs belongs to @megalommi

[ihavesomejays]

you win this time

it's essentially just a sequel to this. inked traditionally with a gpen and scanned it to color digitally

closeups/og inks below keep reading

[silverselfshippingchaos]

gamers... we've got a problem. and by 'we', I mean 'me'

[telesodalite]

Sort of a ramble, sort of me just writing my thoughts out while I'm stuck with writer's block, but I keep thinking about how Fulcrum was in stasis for roughly 3 million years??

Like, that's a long time, even for Cybertronians. Not a really long time, not an entire lifespan. But still, it's a large chunk of a normal lifespan just gone. Poof.

One second you're crawling across the pockmarked terrain of an alien planet, surrounded by the sound of gunfire, and the shouting and screaming before and after each earth shuddering impact of another k-con hitting the ground. And then it's quiet. You're not there anymore. You're drifting somewhere between not alive and just asleep. Preserved somewhere in the background of a doomed body, ignored by time and space, still here, but also not.

And then there's sound. Not gunfire. Not shouting or screaming. Not the sounds that'll haunt you till your dying days, your own death sentence pounding in your head. No. Just voices, talking, standing out against a silent, dead world. Wondering. Joking. Bickering. Familiar. Just, not familiar to you. And you're awake. Pulled back from the nothingness you've been frozen in, consciousness tugged forwards with the yank of a fuel pump and the nearness of life.

These two moments are roughly 3 million years apart, but only minutes, maybe even seconds, to him. From a hectic harrowing battlefield, to an old silent graveyard in one blink.

How long did it take to really sink in? I mean, he seems to just roll with it. He doesn't seem particularly bothered. But like, what happened outside of what we see? How did he really feel?

Also, his body aged without him. While his mind preserved itself, freezing him as he was right then, his body was left to weather Clemency for all those years. No wonder it crumbled to dust when he jumped off the world sweeper. It's probably a miracle of some kind that it didn't just fall apart each time someone leaned on him.

And even after they rebuild him, give him a better, newer body. His spark, it's casing, all the irreplaceable core bits that make up their inner bodies, it aged in the time without him. Does he feel it? Does it make his body even more foreign to him?

Then he's also a technician with information that's 3 million years out of date. Lucky him that the scavengers probably weren't working with top of the line material. But still it's gotta be weird when faced with anything brand new, because a lot can change and progress in 3 million years, and now some of the knowledge he once prided himself in is obsolete.

Besides those things, his view of the galaxy, of the war, of their kind, of other kinds, is one of the few things actually pointed out when it comes to him being stuck in the past. So, how often were his old views challenged? Facts of life he held close proved to no longer true? There's 3 million years worth of new science, new beliefs, new words, new terms, new views.

And sure, some of it can be familiar, because they're an ever evolving kind, and they have patterns, core beliefs, repeating behaviors, but a lot of it's gonna be unfamiliar at the same time, because it's 3 million years worth of catch up, it's not like missing last week's trend.

In a way, it makes him a living relic of a bygone era for Decepticons. It would've been really interesting to have had that explored a little more.

[heatherchasesyou]

[gingermintpepper]

I was going to answer an ask but tumblr ate my reply so now I'm just >:(

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Roku: *has multiple opportunities to confess to Ta Min but never FUCKING TAKES IT*

Me: If I was Kyoshi I would've ripped through the walls of the Spirit World and just fucking suplexed you until you stopped breathing.

[stellamancer]

i feel bad about most of my text posts being about work but goddamn lmao.

[friend-of-a-cat]

The Gender Crisis™ is still Gender Crisising™ but I don't have time for that right now lmao.

[wellhalesbells]

Is it still Wednesday? No, you say? Well, time is an illusion so you're probably wrong about that. Thanks for the tag, @piratefalls! I had this idea because of a tumblr post I stumbled across again in my likes... I dunno an hour or two ago? And now here we are, lol.

Derek hadn’t expected he would hear from Stiles again, possibly ever, but certainly not until he was back within the borders of Beacon Hills when he pulled out the rock. Derek blinked it.  The rock’s eyes rolled back at him.  Ignoring the hand with the rock in it for the moment, he diverted his attention back to the box.  It was a perfectly ordinary and small, square box.  Derek’s address and Stiles’ return one at his dorm room the only things scrawled on the outside. And it appeared to contain nothing but bubble wrap and a rock. A rock with googly eyes on it. It wasn’t quite smooth, peaked but rounded almost precisely in the center of its top, and squat.  Perfectly gray, perfectly bland, with a flat bottom to it.  The eyes were placed with care more towards the hilly top and right under where the sides started their downslopes.  Meaning they almost looked like brows depending on the angle Derek held the rock at. He glanced at his phone but flatly refused to ask.  That had to be what Stiles wanted with this and Derek was hardly going to give him that. He thought about crushing the box and throwing the rock away.  Instead he carefully pulled the tape apart, breaking the box down for his recycling.  Which is when he found the little piece of notebook paper that had slid under the flap. In that same scrawl were the words: It needs a home and a name. - Derek, despite all his better judgment, didn’t throw the rock away but he did leave it on top of his microwave and forget about it (after letting it bother him for far too long). That should be the end of that particular saga - he’d managed to dismiss it as a prank that went over his head, probably some social media, not-quite-his-generation fad that he would never get no matter how hard he tried - except.  Except that not-quite a month later he got another similarly-sized box. And if Stiles had sent him another rock, he was throwing them both away after crushing them into powder.  He opened the top, parted the bubble wrap with a sigh, only to find very much not a rock. It was a miniature armchair. The detail was exquisite and the upholstery on it felt real, that scratchy but nostalgic quality that reminded him of going to his grandparents’ house.  The wood of the legs and arms was finely honed and the arms even had upholstered tops.  The color was a deep maroon and embroidered in the back of it in gold were a few stalks of wheat contained in an oval shape. The strangest thing about it, aside from everything, was how wide the seat was.  The proportions really didn’t seem to— “Oh you have got to be fucking…” Derek trailed off, practically stomping over to the other side of the kitchen.  He snatched up the rock and plonked it down in the chair, eyes rattling about but facing forward. It was a perfect fit.

Tagging..... I dunno, other people who spit in the face of 'Wednesday' and all its cohorts? I don't really know who fits that description but, if that's you, you've been summoned.

[watery-melon-baller]

once again i am frustrated because i cannot understand this when it is not at all that difficult I wanna understand it so bad please please please

[iwonderwh0]

People who tag as hankcon things that aren't even a little bit implying any romantic undertones or moreover are explicitly father-son-ish confuse the fuck out of me

Like, maybe it's used as a general tag to mark these two within someone's blog, but it feels intentionally inconsiderate and reads as a mockery

[lvpercalia]

major pet peeve is putting a limit and expressing it with the more plain non-reactive language I'm capable of and the other person victimizing themselves, making a spectacle of self-pity and giving excuses as to why they behaved like that while NOT agreeing on not doing the thing again.

[battywitch]

What's it like to be able to share something you like with someone and have them at least pretend to care (not about the thing necessarily, but to just listen or look at the thing and acknowledge you like it, without making you feel like a piece of shit or mocking it/you or dismissing you etc) for, like, idk? 30 seconds or something?

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Once again, my favorite part of my job is pissing off my medic and ruining their day lmao