#enamored with these answers

[aftrskool]

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

shepards who are half black half Latinx n speak in a heinous mix of slang, southern, n Spanish I love u more then anythin

[rogdona]

some of your ocs have a romantic relationship, would it bother you if I made ships/headcanons of your ocs hehe <: ??

WOULD LOVEEEEEE TO HEAR PPLS SHIPS AND HEADCANONS OF MY OCS OMG IT WOULDNT BOTHER ME AT ALL DWWW💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗

[half-bakedboy]

omg i would love buck drunkenly calling tommy and going on a rant about how much he likes him and etc

LIKE I NEED IT. I have a fic in my marked for later about it since I'm almost positive I'm gonna have to write it myself too 🤣

Just picture the drunk Buck that was at Hen's house last season, except happy and in love 🥰

[saxandviolins77]

curious, Devy doesn't have a unique voice in your continuity, right? he just uses his components's vocalizers? any voices he favors using over others? depends on the use case?

-🦜

Yep! His "voice" is just their voices in unison. I guess you could say this has some thematic relevance, but in the lore it's just that Megatron was cheap, Shockwave was cheaper and Bombshell didn't care.

He's lucky to have something of a voice, yk? He wasn't even supposed to have a face! (Or a mouth... Soundwave is disappointed with Megatron's decision-making skills.)

But yeah, he speaks through his body and moves his mouth in synchrony, giving bystanders the impression he has a throat mechanism or something similar. I don't think he can actively choose whose voice he speaks in, mostly because he actively denies his components' individuality. However! Subconsciously? Yeah, some voices get louder depending on his emotional state; it's not really clear cut and sometimes barely noticeable.

For instance, your may hear Scavenger's voice when Devastator is particularly apologetic; when he is lying you may hear Scrapper's voice as an undertone of whoever's voice is stronger at the moment; if Devastator is feeling a little bossy he'll speak in Hook's tone of voice, it may not be Hook's voice, but the intonation is there (ig if you're a regular at the medbay you get shivers when this happens.) If he takes a heavy blow and is feeling offended at being hurt, he'll use Bonecrusher's voice, and if he's acting like a little shit, he'll use Mixmaster's voice (maybe not the accent, one thing doesn't mean another.)

Uh, miscellaneous facts section while I'm here already:

He doesn't have Mixmaster's stutter (this may have made Mixmaster insecure for like... Two minutes after they noticed it.)

I don't think Long Haul's voice would be used as much. Reasons unique to Long Haul.

If he's particularly distressed, each word he speaks will come out of a different vocalizer. This is normally followed by him breaking apart into his component pieces.

He's an awful singer (theoretically he could harmonize with himself, but like, he won't.)

Also when a voice gets louder it doesn't mean his right leg is getting louder while the rest of him is getting quieter. It just means the rest of his vocalizers are adjusting to match the frequency and pitch of whatever part of Devastator is acting up.

[twinleafsystem]

You’ve been given total artistic freedom to create a new Muppet version of ISAT

One character will remain as they are, the rest are Muppets.

Who do you choose to stay the same and why?

Bonus points; who would make the best Muppet?

whilst i am completely and utter obsessed with this ask, like beyond belief, i am ever so sorry. literally out of all my friends i am the one guy who knows Nothing about the muppets. i cannot in good faith try to answer this question.... But i open the floor up to the general public...!! someone more knowledgeable... please. for me. answer this anon...!!!

[lynzishell]

How it started vs How it's going challenge: Pick an arc in your story, and pick the best screenshots of the start to present. Pass it on!

Ooh this is fun! I was actually going to pick a different arc and post this last week... but then I changed my mind 😅

[verseleth]

Your Ardyn shots bring me so much joy, thank you for your work and adding to the love for him. 🖤

You are most kindly! ☺️

It is my personal joy to partake in adding more love for this precious beauty of a man, and I am contented to know my shots of him elicit much joy to you just as your lovely drawings and depictions of him do to me. Thank you for allowing me to know through such gracious words!~ 🫶

[outlying-hyppocrate]

Dear Crispin: (A warning in advance as this will be long)

I write to you now at the edge of my consciousness, my body in a fugue state of transitional absentmindedness. Before long I will likely assume a different state, and as consequence lose my creative drive and passion for a short time. This is to say that I sympathise with your artist’s block, as something not so dissimilar blights me every few days.

Particularly, it centres around roughly a dozen individuals (separated into 3 stories) and their attempts to survive in this world. For the most part, this story and setting differs little from our own Earth, with the key difference of two things: the provable existence of the divine, and the existence of North and South Tasmia islands (existing in the stead of Australia).

These gods interact with the physical plane via two methods, each corresponding to their own methods of feeding. The gods grow in power as they are thought of more, growing in conceptual strength as they take up more space in the collective consciousness of mankind. So when they wish for good, consistent growth, they form contracts, granting mortals a fraction of a piece of a drop in their sea of power in return for a variety of sacrifices or rituals that bolster that god’s place in the common memory of humanity.

And when they are starved, seeking that rapid, growing, violent growth of fear and hatred. They create Saints, living, breathing conduits of their divine fury that render the earth asunder and fell cities in their footsteps. Both are methods of forcing more of humanity to think of them, and by cause grow in power, albeit one through love and the other through fear.

Gods exist for everything, hence their abundance. As Alek, a character in TLS once said,

“There is a god for everything. One for the chair your sitting on, one for the air you breath, one for the right root of your left upper premolar, like I said, for everything. As long as there is an idea for an object, like the idea that fire hurts, there is a god for it that can be worshipped and contracted.”

Furthermore, there exists the Lower Worlds, oft considered the realm of these gods, an infinite realm of infinite floors and no rules, each floor corresponding to a unique “frequency”, not unlike a radio, and each frequency applying to its given god.

But this very feeding method of the gods is the subject matter of my writing to you today, and explaining how it works. One of the many reoccurring concepts of TLS is the variety of explanations for these gods, how they so easily disrupt the laws of physics and why they function as they do.

Some argue that they are manifestations of some dormant force within the mind. Some argue that the Lower Worlds consist of a mirror matter, our minds paying off the entropic debt into this matter. Others that the gods are simply beings of a different dimension, poking their fingers in and spilling their rules into our own.

The issue is found, not in these solutions, but in the fact that each and every one of these interpretations works. They are all completely plausible explanations for every facet of the divine, each and every solution. This raises the question, which is the right one?

The answer, is all of them. You see, it is revealed late into the story that the Lower Worlds behave like quantum particles, their contents and rules existing in a superstate. If you are unfamiliar with the concept, it means that these worlds, and by extent the gods that are formed from them, are multiple things at once until observed, at which point they collapse into one possibility.

In other words, the Lower Worlds have no set rules, logic, or systems, only the ones we apply when we attempt to reconcile it. It is an amorphous sea of possibilities, collapsing into whatever form we grant it.

Like a liquid, it fills the container it is in, morphing to whatever people consider it to be. This is why the Lower Worlds lack the logic and reason of our world, for so many have differing views on its functions and logics, resulting in an ostensible lack of order.

This is why every solution to the gods works. This is why gods are intrinsically linked to concepts and how we apply to objects. This is why gods can so easily ignore our rules.

This dimension is one of undefined energy and possibility, a sea of potential superstates and wavelengths, collapsing in the exact moment a link between idea and thing is formed into one constant state, that state being a god.

When a god, or concept it thought of, it expands the definition and dimensions of that concept, granting it a “larger container” for it to inhabit, and by consequence granting it greater power.

If you link the ideas of fire and pain, as one so often does, a new god is birthed, one of painful flames. As more people grow to fear and love this god, more conceptual “mass” is granted to it, more access to the unending undefined energy within the Lower Worlds, expanding its reach into the infinite, explaining how they feed.

Apologies for both the length and strangeness of this rambling, as I had written this after many a month of conceptualising, and desperately desired some form of sharing this work of mine with a fellow mind.

Kind regards, Valerie

(PS: I truly pray non-religiously to whatever limbo of superstate energies hold power in our world that you may be free from that cursed block, and that the waters of creativity my flow in your fields once more)

dearest valerie,

[stravagatefaster]

Why does rodolfo still love silvia after everything she did?

Fuck if I know

But fr, I can't explain love in general so idk what else to say but "he's kind of weird like that"

[supercantaloupe]

sleepover saturday: unpopular theatre/art opinion of your choice, whatever you'd like to talk about :)

enough biomusicals enough jukebox musicals enough jukebox biomusicals. society has moved past the need for jukebox biomusicals. if there ever was a need to begin with

more classic broadway shows in revival and in schools already. orchestral players deserve the work and modern theater kids need to be humbled. you'll listen to annie get your gun and sit with the outdated and hokey and #problematic elements and you'll LIKE IT. it develops character.

and anna garcia was 100% right in her smartypants society presentation about how no we should not forgive theater kids and how we should punish specifically annoying modern musical theater kids by forcing them to sit down and listen to parade and company. she's so right about everything.

[ask meme]

[rememberwren]

Ghost who accidentally pulls readers hair back too hard and is worried that he’s fucked up and that they’ll disappear because they’re catching glimpses into him, and reader who enjoyed it far more than they probably should’ve. Reader who casually brings up that they liked him being a bit more rough and ghost does everything but spit out his morning cereal because THEYLIKEIT??

Like not quite Freak4Freak but Freak4holyshitilikedthatiwanthimtodothatagain

Scenarios like this just breeeeed the opportunity for Simon to be an unreliable narrator and I love the idea of it! He’s thinking of how he’s being too rough with you, and you’re thinking of how you’d like him to be rougher. Misunderstandings and lack of communication like that can be my jam sometimes.

I wouldn’t call hair pulling freaky though personally haha. Hair pulling, biting, scratching. Do those qualify as kinks these days or am I spending too much time up to my eyes in the scary-hard sauce? 😅

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Can I.. draw fanart of your dib and zim????

YES YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! I'd be so flattered!

Please send it to me of you post it!

[wewerebornsextuplets]

Kiru is so cool bruh whenever I see her my eye twitches like the western fit you just dropped oh my god literally her character design is so so so so appealing to me personally I am a forever fan fr

WAHHH THANK YOU!!! im really glad you like her TT_TT im very proud of her design so it always makes me very happy to hear that ^__^

im hanging out with some friends right now so i can't draw you a little doodle like i usually do with asks. but rest assured when i get the chance I absolutely will

[burning-academia-if]

oh god oblivious MC catching feelings for the voice is so funny 😭 would they wait till the end until MC realizes or would they start dropping hints/straight up bring that up if the wait is getting ridiculously long at this point? they have an advantage of knowing how MC is feeling better than MC themself here at least, so I'm guessing they won't have to guess if MC is just not into them lmao

I think it goes from being funny to them being almost impressed at how bad MC is at identifying their own feelings 😂 ??? has time to kill but if it actually takes eons they'll finally start dropping hints.

[unethicallypleistocene]

I know I keep pestering you for snippets about Blake but I'd LOVE to see how he interacts with Rogue since their powers are somewhat similar! No pressure ofc!!

Pestering?? I just about let out a Victorian-level gasp! Your asks could never be any form of annoyance whatsoever, especially when it comes to snippets! I absolutely adore doing these, and I'm really feeling Blake come to life in my head the more I sit down and try to get some ideas out there. Thank you so much!!

"You arrive at a fork in the darkened road, the cloaked figures still hot on your heels. In your hesitation, one of them calls out, raises his sword- and that's where we'll end our session tonight!" There were groans around the table, along with a few hands thrown up in exasperation. "Ugh, who died and made you DM?" asked Jubilee, starting to collect everybody's dice. "As I recall, nobody else wanted the job," said Hank dryly, removing his glasses to polish them. "You all really give me no choice other than to end on a cliffhanger. It's 11:00 PM, for goodness' sake." "Not like ol' Gambit has anywhere to be," said Remy, propping his feet on the table. Rogue slapped his arm. "I didn't sign up fer one of your sleep-deprived moods tomorrow," she retorted, "especially not after your critical fail streak tonight." "That owlbear came out of nowhere," Remy muttered darkly. Blake stretched and yawned. "Regardless, I really think we should all be going to-" Blake stopped, detecting the tiniest cracking noise coming from outside the window. "Blake?" asked Rogue, eyebrows knitted together. "You guys head upstairs, I'll be up in a bit," said Blake quickly, throwing on his coat as he backed away from the dining room table. "I'm fine, I promise." He turned before he could register the rest of their confused expressions, hurrying out the back door and skittering to the southern treeline. "Hello?" he whispered, feeling stupid and determined and terrified all at once. The ground on which he stood began its telltale vibration, weeds sprouting around his boots. He felt something tug at the bottom of his pant leg. "Come on," Blake muttered, jerkily turning his head as he scanned the edge of the woods in the darkness. His vision caught on a lone antlered buck, eyes glowing gold. The buck flicked its tail and stared at him. "You again," Blake shuddered despite himself, "what do you want?" The buck stood still, eyes growing brighter in the night. "I need to know. Please!" Blake looked down at his hands, which rapidly becoming ensnared in ivy. "Blake! Where'd ya- Blake?!" He heard Rogue's voice, and it sounded too distant to be real. "Why won't you say anything?" Blake pleaded, the buck's gaze burning his skin. The ivy began twisting around his neck.

"For the love of- Can you hear me? Blake!" Rogue called out, speeding to her friend's side. His eyes were rolled back into his head, his feet bound by thick roots to the ground as the greenery started to strangle him. Rogue yanked off her glove and carefully tried to pull at a vine, only to get repelled the instant she touched Blake's skin. She huffed. "I'mma try something new, you just hang on." She sped a good distance away, took a deep breath, and flew at Blake with all her strength. She tackled him, pushing him into the ground, holding him tight. He gasped for air, the ivy rotting away as he gripped Rogue back, suppressing a sob. "I'm sorry," he said, his words coming out garbled between pained inhales. "You're alright," she replied, squeezing him, "you're alright."