For writing prompt...megop leaning against each other for support while trapped in an alien prison cell? Love your draws
Keep reading

ellievsbear
macklin celebrini has autism
RMH
Keni
YOU ARE THE REASON
KIROKAZE
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Kiana Khansmith
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Discoholic 🪩

pixel skylines
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
sheepfilms
cherry valley forever
Mike Driver

Love Begins
taylor price
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Chile
seen from Bangladesh

seen from Latvia
seen from Bangladesh

seen from Bangladesh
seen from Argentina

seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from Puerto Rico

seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil

seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@ask-the-iacon-archivist
For writing prompt...megop leaning against each other for support while trapped in an alien prison cell? Love your draws
Keep reading
pray 4 him
I finished reading MTMTE and LL, and I fell for this dude. ;w;
Also, I’m trying to use another style in shading. New brushes and stuff. XP
@travellinglemonworkshop i suffered making this i promise
now you guys get to suffer with me
💔
Send 💔 to accidentally tell my Muse you hate them during an argument
💊𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘶𝘴.
𝘐𝘵 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘶𝘴.
𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦? 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘶𝘴, 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.
𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝗁 𝗂 𝗆 ? 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘢. 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥.
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵…. 𝗍 𝗁 𝖺 𝗍 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴.
“𝘠𝘰𝘶… 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶…?” 𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. “𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳… 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳-𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯.”
𝘙𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘺.
❣–;; When Orion first heard the door open he assumed it must of been one of the nurses coming to check in on him. He didn’t bother to actually move or open his optics, he didn’t think there was any need to. As far as he was concerned, he was completely alone, and he was content to wallow in that knowledge until he could drag himself out of the berth and return home.
But then the stranger in the room spoke, and Orion almost couldn’t believe his audio receptors. The archivists optics snapped open, attention immediately turning to the medic who now stood next to his berth. It almost didn’t seem real. Ratchet didn’t have to be there. He shouldn’t be there. Orion didn’t deserve him being there.
A soft, and muffled sob left him before he could even process what his emotions were.
“R-Ratchet I… Oh Primus, I’m so so sorry I…” The words fell out of his vocalizer in a string of whimpered apologies, servo lifting to quickly try to wipe away the fluid falling down his faceplates. He immediately tried to sit up, planting one servo on the berth to push himself into an upright position, but he’d forgotten to expect the wave of pain that washed over his frame when he did. A choked cry silenced his attempts to apologize before he moved to lay back once again, clenching his optics shut tightly and moving his servo to hold onto the wound.
💊 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦- 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴- 𝘰𝘯 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘳𝘶𝘣 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳.
Keep reading
❣–;; Orion appreciated the comforting touches, keeping his optics shut as he worked to calm his vents. He knew he should be keeping his emotions in check, shouldn’t be breaking down like such a sparkling. But Ratchet was there. He was there and he wasn’t yelling at Orion, wasn’t even scolding him. He was just there.
“ I didn’t... I didn’t mean what I said Ratchet... “ He finally managed to speak, opening his optics to glance up at the other mech. He needed to apologize. For his own comfort. To at least know that Ratchet understood him. “ I should have never let my anger get so out of control...”
tfa Optimus Prime
This post was triggered by something that @roachpatrol said over here about the expectation for girls to be sweet and clean and harmless:
Holy shit, if I was eight years younger and wandering into fandom for the first time, I can guarantee that the culture right now would’ve fucked me up and ground me down and taken away all my healthy outlets.
Picture: you are a girl at the tender young age of mumbledyteen. Up until this point you have been taught that all dark thoughts are literally hand-delivered into your head by the devil, and that the only correct method of dealing with negativity is to ignore them and pray harder. Concentrate on what is good and righteous and pure to the exclusion of all else, this is how you be a good person.
You are also a fully-functioning human being, one who can feel stressed or lonely or angry or any number of bad things. Mostly, with emotions that are still working themselves out, you feel this rumbling, white-hot white noise under everything, all the time. Sometimes it rolls in like a thunderstorm and everything else gets drowned out, and sometimes it’s only quietly muttering in the distance. Either way it’s always there, and the sound shreds uncomfortably at the inside of your brain.
When you were younger, before you were in charge of your own media consumption, your brain would shred up a myriad of saccharine stories to try and match the noise of the shredder in your head. Bad things happening, people getting hurt, characters trapped in unhealthy relationships of all kinds.
Fanfiction, the product of a hundred thousand other mumbledyteens whose brains are all screaming the same way, makes something in your brain go ping.
Unfortunately, if the planet had ever been united on any single message, it was probably that no matter how you feel: 1) your feelings weren’t unique 2) they didn’t matter 3) they didn’t matter because they weren’t unique, they were shared among millions of hysterical, worthless teenaged girls just like you.
Fandom was confirmation of the first, but (with some hiccups along the way) outright rejection of the last two. Fuck you, our feelings do matter, and this is a story just for us.
A disclaimer: these aren’t good stories, otherwise they wouldn’t have to be defended. Their flavor of topic is not within societally acceptable bounds. Fictional characters have sex and get tortured and raped and abused, but their screaming harmonizes with the pitch of the shredder when it’s burrowing deepest.
As a teenager I never thought that my feelings were important enough to deal with, but these stories let me look at them sideways. Audience catharsis is the whole point of tragedy, after all.
And hell, these days I’m a happy, healthy adult who barely even has the urge to go looking for whump fic when I’ve had a bad week. I’m not going to forget just how much bad stuff that fic helped me air out, though, not ever. (Not to mention that thanks to all of those abuse!fics, I can recognize an unhealthy relationship at 500 paces, even if the fictional abuse was depicted as something loving and romantic. Abusers in real life don’t go around with helpful warning tags on their sleeves anyway.)
But holy shit, can you imagine if I’d found fandom as it is today.
Yes, your church is right, your family is right. Horrible things in stories are only there because they were written by horrible people, and they’re only popular because horrible people read them. The very concepts they address corrupt everything they touch.
That shredder in your head, the one that takes innocent cartoons but then shits out sadness and mayhem? That’s disgusting, you’re disgusting. How dare you think about minors having underaged sex, you minor? How dare you consider another person getting hurt? Your feelings don’t matter, they aren’t unique, they’re shared with all kinds of worthless shitbags just like you.
Every ounce of what you read and write and enjoy is going to be weighed for sin and tested for purity. You know, just like the rest of your life, except this time there’s no deity who’s handing out second chances.
Maybe that’s what bothers me most about all of this. It’s the same petty fandom bullshit as always, but “you’re wrong for liking a ship because IT WILL NEVER BE CANON” is a hell of a lot easier to laugh off when you’re young than “you’re wrong for liking a ship because YOU’RE AN ABUSIVE PEDOPHILE AND IF SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR PERPETUATING IT.”
My fault, my bad thoughts, no outlet for any of them. The message to repress all the bad things so I can look like a good person, but my brain is so full of unprocessed shit that it’s solidified. Nobody actually saved any real children, but my brain sure is getting a second dose of fucked-up.
Are the people getting attacked going to be okay, will they be able to go and address their braingremlins somewhere else? I’d also ask if the people doing the attacking are okay, with all of the denial and repression they must deal with, but it seems like they’ve got venting pretty well handled by taking it out on strangers.
Hey, c’mon, calm down friends. I bet I’ve read a story that’s got a character screaming at just the same pitch you are.
It helps to read one of those and harmonize your voices, I promise.
holy shit, dude, this is powerful. i’ll delete this reblog if you don’t want the extra attention, but thank you for your thoughts.
Roachpatrol speaks my mind on this matter.
Posting because I know so many traumatized people, and so many of them just really need to see this, right now, for so many reasons.
“Audience catharsis is the whole point of tragedy, after all.”
A thousand times yes. This, some scholars believe, WAS the point of Greek tragedy. It wasn’t for teaching specific lessons (don’t do this or that will happen), it was for creating pity and fear. Pity is, of course, feeling badly for the characters you’re watching/reading. Fear is the understanding that these things can happen to you, or things like them, and that you may not necessarily be able to protect yourself from it. You may never accidentally kill your father and marry your mother, but you can watch Oedipus do it, see his downfall, and empathize with the kind of human frailty that caused him to try to outrun fate in the first place. Empathizing with him doesn’t mean you want to off your dad, it means you have made and will make mistakes too, that were based on consequences you hadn’t foreseen, and his distress resonates with yours. This pity and fear is what causes the emotional purging we know as catharsis.
Furthermore, Nietzsche (yes we’re citing Nietzsche too) basically considered tragedy a dress rehearsal for real-life suffering; if we see, say, a fictional character in great pain, when we are faced with great pain it’s easier to see that we can survive it too, that we have survived bad things and we are capable of surviving more of them. Even if it doesn’t end well. Because suffering is human, and we are humans, and human life can go on in the face of great suffering.
So yes, I read and created dark horrible fic, that is not directly related to the horrible things I have experienced (I have never been abducted by strexcorp or forcibly reeducated or kept in a lab with abusive creators), and I feel pity and fear for the characters and I recognize that I have seen some shit, and that they have too, and that all people have. Was Sophocles a sick incest creeper for writing Oedipus Rex? Or was he just giving us a chance to purge intense, and intensely human, emotions?
(source: my primary partner, who has been teaching Greek drama at NYU for more years than he’d care to admit; any remaining mistakes are my own but if you come at me with “hubris is just pride” i will fight you.)
(ETA fixed spelling of Nietzsche; autocorrect why are you like this)
This. This. A quintilian times this.
He’s happy to see you. <3
Update. :V
Another update. :D
👗
MOODBOARD MEME:send me one of the following symbols and i’ll make a moodboard for my character.
👗 for a moodboard about my muse’s fashion style
👮
MOODBOARD MEME:send me one of the following symbols and i’ll make a moodboard for my character.
👮 for a moodboard about my muse’s occupation
Data Archivist in the Hall of Archives
{ Sorry for the inactivity ! My health took a bad turn in the midst of all of my finals (i only have two more !! ) So I decided to focus on getting better. With that said, I have been feeling more like myself so hopefully tonight I can answer some asks and reply to threads ! }
I blame @bonitasama and @ktcyber for this shit
warning: bad words and bitchy starscream comme je l’aime
@chosenmonarch @localseeker
more bot kobb kisses? please?
demonangel au?please?they are so sweet there
husbands for @optimassprime ❤️💖❤️ MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!