#yeah theres something wrong with me

[shotgun-fucker]

Computer is it weird to find images of software and video game corruptions like. Sexy as hell??

[gay-pidgeons]

we all got that one friend who we wish was a woman so he could be our idealized wife amirite or amirite 🤣

[iholli]

living my best life with the new content (deleted scenes getting animated) but this part really gave my brain an itch that I've kinda thought about before and just haven't had reason to scratch at,,,

I think Blitzwing really dislikes getting dirty (or being in a space that could get him dirty), when it's unnecessary? I mean, he'll do it, he doesn't mind or care on a mission or during a fight, but he doesn't enjoy it, and don't expect him to get grease on his frame otherwise.

like, any time he's in a situation where he's getting dirty or scuffed and it's not in a fight, Hothead or Random are usually the dominant response, quickly finding something else to focus on. Icy only responds to complain, because he certainly likes to complain. he gets kind of bitchy about it! (I get it. I don't like unnecessary dirt either. I didn't authorize that. I mean this affectionately, I enjoy when he's bitchy.)

I imagine if he willingly got into a mess (for fun, or cannibalism, or both) it would be fine, but eugh, he wasn't planning on Autobot gunk or Earth grime, no thank you.

[meamiki]

mira !!! :]

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Charlie Kelly from Always Sunny is my favorite representation of dyslexia in anything ever. Specifically because everyone's frustration when his dyslexia gets in their way feels very true to my frustration when my dyslexia gets in my way. I like watching people get mad at dyslexia lol

[dynamitekansai]

THE USOS REUNITE WWE SMACKDOWN (OCTOBER 25, 2024)

[lemongogo]

why do i love the conflict more than anything else . the misery . the incompatibility that spreads like oil slick . wanting so desperately for resolution that never comes . hmmm

[nowwheresmynut]

The comments on the tags are possibly my favorite type of feedback. They feel so sincere, I love them. I love all of your tag comments, I read them all ❤️

[samioli]

Y'know you're fucked when you start to wonder if you deserved to be abused in a past relationship

[bitcell]

this is me attempting to try to understand the logic behind the teams and putting down all the information we have

blue team

#0003 bbh (us) - joined march 22nd. active on the server.

#0004 pierre (fr) - joined may 16th. active on the server.

#0006 pol (spa) - joined august 28th. active on the server.

#0014 tina (sk) - joined august 28th. active on the server.

#0019 missa (mx) - joined march 22nd. sporadically on the server.

#0021 pac (br) - joined april 30th. active on the server.

#0022 rivers (mx) - joined august 28th. sporadically on the server.

#0025 tubbo (uk) - joined august 28th. active on the server.

#0029 nihachu (us/ger) - joined august 28th. sporadically on the server.

luzu (spa) - joined march 22nd. currently not active on the server. lenay (us/spa) - joined august 28th. currently not active on the server. mariana (mx) - joined march 22nd. currently not active on the server.

green team

#0001 bagi (br) - joined september 16th. active on the server.

#0008 etoiles (fr) - joined may 16th. active on the server.

#0007 mouse (pr) - joined august 28th. active on the server.

#0011 roier (mx) - joined march 22nd. active on the server.

#0015 forever (br) - joined april 30th. active on the server.

#0016 fit (us) - joined march 22nd. active on the server.

#0017 maxo (spa) - joined march 22nd. sporadically on the server.

#0020 antoine (fr) - joined may 16th. active on the server.

#0027 quackity [ticket with flower] (mx) - joined march 22nd. sporadically on the server.

kameto (fr) - joined may 16th. currently not active on the server. rubius (spa) - joined march 22nd. currently not active on the server. mike (br) - joined april 30th. currently not active on the server.

red team

#0002 carre (arg) - joined september 24th. sporadically on the server.

#0009 foosh (us) - joined march 22nd. active on the server.

#0010 cellbit (br) - joined april 30th. active on the server.

#0012 [ticket with slime] slime (us) - joined march 22nd. active on the server.

#0013 baghs (fr) - joined may 16th. active on the server.

#0018 [ticket with black feathers] phil (uk) - joined march 22nd. active on the server.

#0023 jaiden (us) - joined march 22nd. active on the server.

#0026 felps (br) - joined april 30th. sporadically on the server.

wilbur (uk) - joined march 22nd. currently not active on the server. german (chi) - joined august 28th. currently not active on the server. vegetta (spa) - joined march 22nd currently not active on the server. willy (spa) - joined august 28th. currently not active on the server.

info about all teams:

-> how long they've been on the qsmp

blue team is the team with the most newest players on the island;

green team is balanced with new and old players;

red team is the team with the oldest players on the island.

-> how active they're on the server

green team is the team with the most active players on the island;

blue team is the second;

red team is the third with the least active players on the island and the team with the most inactive players.

(if you're wondering why players who logged in yesterday are counted as currently not active is because i'm using for reference the qsmp (quesadilla island) not purgatory)

-> languages spoken on each team

blue team

green team

red team

blue team has the most spanish speakers.

green team has the most portuguese and french speakers.

red team has the most english speakers.

[telesodalite]

Thinking about KrokFire...

Thinking about them sparring in the cargohold, because it's a long trip, and cabin fever is setting in, and Misfire is gonna pop a gasket if he doesn't do something about it soon, since flying in open space gets real boring real fast, and it's making everyone a little nervous, but Krok has time to kill, and maybe, quietly, he's also two steps away from doing something stupid just to feel alive again after cruising around pointlessly, mindlessly, endlessly, for so so long... (It's barely been a month)

And sure, Misfire is a terrible sparring partner. He has no technique, no concept of proper balance, or an inkling of how to use the weight of his own frame. He rushes headfirst like he's more bull than fighter jet, he talks too much, he spits, he bites, and he can't stand losing. But, in a roundabout way, it almost makes him the perfect partner in Krok's eyes.

Crankcase won't spar, "can't" he claims flatly, gesturing at the gaping hole in his helm, but Krok can respect his want for distance. That occasional flash of fear and frozen unease in Crankcase's visor in close combat doesn't go over his head. He knows that look. He gets it. He won't push.

Fulcrum... well, a streetlight might be a tougher fight, or at least it would stay up longer and complain less. So much for a once respectable officer of the empire. What was Deathsaurus' command thinking promoting anyone without any actual combat training? It would almost be pathetic if Fulcrum didn't find a way to put the vitriol of thrown fists into his words instead. Now there was some swears Krok hadn't heard in a couple millennia, it would be inspiring if it wasn't his own spark Fulcrum had been damning to the pits and back through a bloody nose.

Spinister? Now Spinister was a good fighter, a better fighter, Krok wasn't so prideful to deny that truth. He'd tasted the dust of the cargohold floor enough to know it was a definitive fact. But Spinister held back, he was careful, he matched Krok's pace, his movements, he held himself defensively, any attack was quick, simple, and merely restraining. It was less a fight, and more a waiting game until Krok finally gave up, and that... well, that did sting a bit.

But Misfire? Misfire was a different beast all together. Sure Krok could dance circles around the flier all day, but it wasn't totally effortless work, he had to stay sharp, Misfire was so predictably unpredictable, he kept him thinking, moving, on his toes, and maybe it felt good to sidestep another stupid headfirst charge, easily grabbing and swinging Misfire around by his arm, so unbalanced all Krok had to do was let him go, and the weight of his own frame would send him careening into the crates stacked around them.

Most days, Misfire would give up by then, pull himself off the pile of overturned cargo with no small amount of burning shame and frustration, as he avoided Krok's optics and stormed off into the bowels of the ship before Krok could say something to ease the sting of losing again and again. Misfire didn't want his apologies though, and even as a pang of guilt ate at him over it, Krok knew he'd be back eventually.

But today, too pent-up and bored to quit now, Misfire pushed himself back onto his feet and charged back in again, and again, and again.

And Krok moved with him again, and again, and again. It was almost repetitive, but lively enough that he could feel the energon pumping through his head, a thrumming beat in his audials that reminds him of deafening battlefields and roaring stadiums, and oh, he'd missed this feeling, the adrenaline, the movement, more so than he thought he did.

Maybe it's the overconfidence that gets him then, or the memories pulling him out of the present, but Misfire's fist suddenly comes slamming down into his mask, and for a moment everything becomes a blur, until he finds himself on the floor, clutching at the shattered metal falling from his face in disbelief.

Faintly he can feel the twinge of broken mesh, of pain pinching dully across scarred flickering sensors, and maybe it's the adrenaline that pulls a suprised and breathy laugh out of him as he stares down at the pieces in his hand.

Maybe it's also the disbelief, the sudden shock at being struck hard enough to break his mask, by Misfire of all mechs. Or maybe he's cracked his helm, finally snapping something important deep in his processor, some vital function that kept him sane all these years.

Either way, an old familiar buzz of heady energy fills his chest, loosening his joints and straightening his struts as he stands back up, brushing off the broken remains of his mask as he stares back at Misfire, barefaced and bleeding and amused as the flier's optics go bright and wide.

And all Misfire can do for a moment is stand there, wide-eyed and breathless, his own adrenaline filled frame and hammering processor still trying to make sense of the broken plating of his knuckles and the energon trickling down Krok's scarred lips.

But connections are made, and it's a panicked realization at first, a cold dread, a 'ohhhhh fuck oh primus I fucked up I'm dead I'm so fucking dead-!' sort of feeling, as Krok's marred face breaks into an energon stained grin. But then there's another feeling, growing somewhere underneath the panic, a sudden curl of heat in his chest, a flush of pride, conviction, a sort of frenzied joy at the sight of broken mesh and fresh energon, and another rush of hot anticipation as Krok began to move again, circling, waiting, an unspoken question in the air as he rolls his shoulders back and flexes his hands.

And Misfire answers eagerly, suprising himself almost as he charges foward again, wanting more of that feeling, wanting to win again.

It's not really sparring past this point, and somewhere in the back of their minds they both know that. Every strike, every kick, every punch, it's all thoughtless instinct, each clash of plating, and bite of denta, and scrape of fingertips, is part of a mad dash for victory in the gladiator pit of scrap and debris they've built around themselves.

Of course, it can't last forever. They're no real gladiators, no phase-sixers, no primes, and movements get sluggish, vents rattle and wheeze as coolant pumps reach their limits, and building condensation slides powerless punches right off of scuffed metal and mesh.

Even like this though, worn out and bleeding from more scrapes than he had half a mind to count, Krok is still better, and Misfire is still predictable, and it's no great feat to sweep his legs out from beneath him, landing him flat on the floor, wings spread out and chestplate heaving.

Overworked joints sharply protest as he goes to pin the flier down bodily, and finally Krok faces the fact he has to consider how to end this, so he might let his own beaten frame finally still for a moment to breathe.

But as Krok catches one flailing arm in his grip, scoffing at the desperation, still goading Misfire on even as he tries to end this, a hand stubbornly catches his throat, but stops before it can truly squeeze.

And once more they're not really moving, just staring, watching, but it's less wired and tense now, rather, its shaky, a little unfocused, as exhaustion filters out in heaving puffs of hot air between their frames.

Someone's plating is rattling, Krok isn't sure if it's his own or Misfire's, but the cost of adrenaline is painfully noticeable now. His grip loosens on Misfire's arms, and the idea of total victory is less sweet as his cables begin to ache throughout his inner-framework.

But Misfire's hand slides up to catch his jaw before he can lean back and relent to a truce, and he's pulling him closer, and Krok starts to push him off, call it quits before either of them breaks something past repair, but a flash of energon on Misfire lips catches his eye, and that hadn't been there a moment ago?

Before he can even begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, Misfire is pulling him down again, angling his helm upwards to feverishly meet his lips half-way.

Although the mesh of Misfire's face was throughly bruised and scuffed, Krok had frustratingly failed to return the favor of a busted lip. So, it had to be his own, smeared across Misfire's face at some point in the scuffle, it shouldn't have been interesting in the slightest, but Krok's processor was hazy, slow, and his optics trailed Misfire's glossa as he licked his lips and made an odd curious sound.

And maybe it was a stupid move to make so impulsively, one he'd regret making probably, but still too caught up in the waning heated high of the fight, Misfire figured he could worry about losing such a hard-earned battle later. Right now, this seemed far better than actually winning, and the taste of Krok's energon felt like a victory and reward nonetheless.

Bracing himself as Misfire wriggled his other hand free to splay out over his thigh, holding him desperately against his frame as he tried pulling him even closer, Krok considered the heat dispersion warnings flickering distractingly in his peripheral, and the very noticeable strain on his back and legs, even his arms.

It's not a great position to be in right now, after all they've done already. He'll regret it, he knows he will, his body will make sure of it, if Spinister doesn't first.

But then Misfire's glossa is sliding against the jagged edges of his teeth, and he's making hoarse little pathetic noises into Krok's mouth that stoke some sort of ego at having the flier so desperate beneath him, and Misfire's hands are warm and heavy over aching plating and seams, and really, on second thought, after weeks of boredom, why the hell not?

They've got nowhere to be.

[wasntthataparty]

Ugghh not to be a bitch but like I'm gonna be honest those videos where it's like average weight people being like "ohh I'm such a big back" when they eat a normal sized portion isn't doing ANYONE any favors.

[buggbuzz]

my gender is like meat leaf i think. boy materials in the structure of girl. like im a girl made out of boy things but not in a transman way like i like being female im just. a girl-leaning boygirl. maybe??

[lesbiansanemi]

Three days into this department and they fucked up the schedule so bad I was the only one scheduled to open fifteen minutes before the store actually opened and someone is supposed to be here at least a half hour beforehand so not only was I completely alone and clueless cuz I had never opened before but I was expected to get everything done in half the time. I almost had a panic attack oh my fucking god I need to be shot

[trans-estinien]

i love being autistic cause sometimes i get a glimpse into how regular people perceive things and its like. what the fuck. what the fuck is that? you live like this? and its normal?? i think YOURE the weird one actually. im fine. thanks though.

[ironladders]

yknow now that i think about this it’s kinda funny that two of my favorite ships right now are in super opposite situations where one of them (ashzoth) is canon but it is a pretty new relationship that is super unpopular in the overall mk community & has pretty minimal content both canon and fandom wise, while the other one (skystar) is not canon but is one of the more popular tf ships & while their dynamic depends on the continuity it’s a relationship that’s been around for decades now and has plenty of content both in fandom and in canon