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// Right... a while ago I got hit with a huge blow to my writing and RP confidence on tumblr, and the general worry that I’ve been making people feel like interacting with my characters is a chore and not a Fun Thing We Both Enjoy. 

I’m sorry that I went so inactive as a result. It may just be a while until I find the strength to be able to push out of that anxiety. I am still interested in this, it’s just kind of difficult and I’ve felt inexplicably disheartened. I don’t need anything from you guys but a bit of patience. 

Thanks. <3

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// I’m alive

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// Sorry for the impromptu hiatus. My muse has wandered off again and I haven’t been able to come close to pinning it back down. 

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I saw ten thousand fluttering wings of start dust in the night, the sky opened up and in it I saw ten hundred and forty two eyes of lapis and glass stare back at me. The voices of heaven crying out to us.

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❛  i   POISONED   THEIR   DRINKS ,   you  pinhead .                                    look   up   INCAPACITATE ,   look   up   MURDER ,

                                                           then   come   back   and   apologize . ❜

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//

Sorry for the low activity! Pride was today and boy howdy I am exhausted. The bad news is I’m so sore that I probably won’t leave bed tomorrow, but the good news is that leaves time for me to get all my replies done up. Thanks for being patient!!

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One Quick Thing

…I’ve been seeing so many of my RP partners and RPers I follow have to put a hiatus on their blogs for mental health reasons, usually because of mental conditions or overwhelming stress and things like that. And absolutely nothing is wrong with that, of course. I understand needing a break, and often times it’s what you need.

But sometimes it isn’t. I’m only 14, but I’ve been through enough to know that, as good as dissociating yourself from others can sound at the time, in some cases it can end up leaving you worse off than when you started.

I know it can be hard to talk to other people. Sometimes we can be worried our friends won’t like us the same if they realize what we’re going through, or that we will seem weak if we talk to someone about our problems. But your fears are lying to you. Your friends (yes, even online friends- they’re just as much your friend as anyone else!) are here to help you. They want to make sure you are living the best life you can.

We are your friends here. We are here to help you. Whether you need some advice on a problem, a person to vent to, or even just a shoulder to cry on, your friends are here. I’m here.

Sometimes you might not even know the person who comes to you for help, but that’s why you have to care. They might not have anyone they can trust to talk to in their own life, so they try to find someone who can give them solid advice- somebody with no bias on whatever the problem is. Sometimes this can help to get the most logical answer you can, and that’s most likely to go as planned. This isn’t always the case, but in some cases it can be a life saver. Literally.

I know that not everyone has the best advice. I know that I can’t have all the answers, but I do know that I can be there to listen. To care. To show whoever it is that I’m talking to that they do matter. Because you do. Every single one of you out there matter. Yes, even you. No, I’m not confusing you for someone else. You matter.

Please reblog this if it’s alright for someone to come into your inbox or PMs when they need someone to talk to, even if you don’t know them. And to everyone who is feeling crippled or is struggling because of mental health? Please remember you have so many people who care about you. We love you. Stay safe for us, please.

You are my friend.

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// Stand by, we’re having technical difficulties- May be a day or two. Trying to fix a sleep schedule while clearing a huge backlog of art is a quick road to burnout, so there may be a lapse in activity on most threads. 

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Send “Whoops” to my ask box, and my muse will accidentally send your muse a text that wasn’t meant for them.

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Touch Meme (TRANSFORMERS TWEAKS!)

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Bang!

[ Anon, because you didn’t give me an url to @ you with, this is now an open starter! ]

Maccadam’s Oil House, Post-War Cybertron.

Flux had been drinking, sure, but it was hardly enough to get even the slightest of buzzes. Not that that was his point- He was people watching, as he often did. Rarely did it get him into trouble, but today wasn’t going to be one of those days, by the looks of it. 

When a disgruntled-looking patron marched over to his table, Flux was quick to stand and gently suggest they take this outside, rather than start a fight in the one bar known for it’s nonviolence policy. Did they know each other, perhaps?

The two could be seen arguing back and forth around the side of the establishment for no more than five minutes, before a shot cracked through the air. It was followed by the sound of a transformation cog engaging, the guilty party tearing off by the time Flux managed to process the bright fuchsia fluid now seeping from his torso. 

He staggers back a little, putting pressure against the wound, but it’s in too awkward a spot for him to self-patch before losing too much energon. 

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Send 'bang!' To witness my muse being shot

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Reblog if you're okay with other characters developing crushes on your characters.

I’d be flattered ^^

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Immediately, Spare tensed in an effort to stop his natural shakes from becoming worse, but they prevailed anyway and the rattle of metal cut through the air. He hated when this happened, because it made it harder for him to work with his hands, but he wasn’t going to have to work with his hands this time. Flux has him.  :: …I’m sorry.:: He began, not looking at Flux as he spoke. ::I should… I need to learn when to ask for help.:: I need to learn to depend on more than just myself, he thought, but he wouldn’t admit that just yet.

::Shh,:: he started, already disinfecting the wound itself against any would-be rust infections. ::Spare, it’s alright. ::

He began to adjusts the intensity of the hand-welder, looking up for a moment to try and catch his gaze. ::It’s not your fault. Change comes slow. ::

He looked back to the wound, beginning to seal up the wound to the best of his abilities. The work was a little slow, but very even and meticulously done.

:: ...Trust comes slow. ::

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Welcome to the workshop!

Im mobile user friendly, if you ever need a link to my oc page or rules page feel free to ask about it, as it stands here they are 

Rules 

OC Page

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::Yeah go ahead… :: He complied with a bit of defeat in his voice. He didn’t want to be trouble but here he was being more trouble trying to take care of himself than if he’d just agreed in the first place. 

His face scrunched up behind his mask as he got ready for the pain of taking out the scrap metal. He never used any sort of pain-suppressants when working on himself, so the pains of care were just another expected part of treatment. 

Flux nodded. :: I’ll make it quick, unless you want to take the trip to the medical bay.... :: 

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. The idea of hurting Spare, even a little, wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but he had to get this out with as little damage as possible. 

He didn’t keep Spare in suspense. His free hand pressed firmly against the wound, and after giving the shrapnel a scan-over to make sure pulling it out wouldn’t simply cause worse damage, he pulled it back in a careful, but clean motion.

:: There, I’ve got it.. I’ve got you. ::

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Spare parts looked away and felt a little guilt in his spark. He just wanted to help. 

::Okay but you can’t say anything about it being worse than I said, I’ve come back from bad stuff. ::

He slowly removed his hands to reveal that there was a piece of scrap metal lodged in the side of his chest, under his arm. He was bleeding around it, and had the wits to know that you don’t pull out objects until you’re ready for immediate patch work. 

::Before you ask, lets just say i got a chemical equation wrong and it didn’t like the imbalance. :: 

Though he felt his spark drop as he saw the shard sticking out of Spare’s torso, he hardly panicked or fussed, merely crouching and giving the wound a steady look-over with some soft clicks from his glossa. This was a time to be professional, not worried.

:: We both have, but you know it’s hardly a reason to neglect yourself... Especially when there is medical aid a servo’s reach away,::  he said. He let out a soft exvent as he focused- As he did, his visor came down to better see the damage. It was a simple red pane that seemed to align about with where his lower mask would come up when it was in place.

His hand drops to his leg, where a small compartment opens up to reveal neatly tucked-away medical supplies. Foreceps, a hand-welder, and a few other miniaturized tools, like a dremel and a drill. For this, though, he figured he’d only need the first two. 

:: May I...? :: He was already there, sure, but he felt he had to be sure before he began any work in earnest.