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illegiblewords · 11 months ago

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Heavy stuff, venting.

I'm having a really, really awful time right now and it just sucks a lot. Things have been tough offline on a lot of levels lately. I don't share much of my creative stuff with people IRL, but it's one of the things that can give me a lot of joy through the day even when things are hard. Creative stuff can mean stories, or designs, or analysis. Even just poking around seeing what other people have done will cheer me up. I've been taking a break from FFXIV for a bit. I didn't play the most recent patch or holiday stuff. Some of the pacing and directions feel like missed opportunities. I might try again in Dawntrail but at this moment I'm taking a break to do BG3 for a bit. I've been interested in DnD for years, and I actually have a million ideas and things I find exciting tied to the Forgotten Realms. Haven't gotten to do more than the very beginning of a campaign because schedule hell but I'd really love to. BG3 has been a chance for me to actually interact with the world on my own terms a bit and it's been a big source of joy for me lately. And I love that Larian put as much thought and layering for the characters psychologically, overall. I love that they generally haven't shied away from stuff either. If I try to look at tags for say, Gale though? Mostly instead of other people making things, I've been getting people who are absolutely furious about how devs talked in a recent interview. I've dealt with characters I love to bits being treated in horrifying ways before. People who were with me when I did Spidey stuff will probably remember some of it. Shit was genuinely incredibly upsetting. I don't think the things people are mad at Larian about are intentional by Larian in the way they're being interpreted. I think this could probably be resolved just by explaining concerns assuming it was unintentional, without rage or accusation. They seem to really care about their fans and given the story told I think they care about their own characters too. Business bits aside. I haven't talked about any of this on tumblr or twitter because like... right now people seem to be a kind of angry where if you aren't angry the way they are, then fuck you you piece of shit basically. But if I'm just trying to make things, or find other people making things, or do analysis? I've just been wading through the anger from other people. It's more stress when I just don't need it. I've tried to find BG3 or DnD discords. I haven't found one for BG3. The DnD ones, I think there's a combination of them being kind of dead and... not really a place for what I do or how I talk. I have two homebrew monsters and a homebrew item I'd love to keep refining but I have no idea how stats work, and I can only really go so far on my own not having done a campaign in any way. Someone suggested I make my own discord community, and I could try, but idk if anyone else would be interested and being in-charge makes me anxious. Same time I'd be really nervous about whether discords run by other people are chill. I desperately, desperately want to avoid drama.

And stupidly I went to the official forums for lack of knowing where else to go. I was surprised that people were nice initially but one person came in and has been making weird personal attacks, backhanded compliments, talking like they're the authority on all things (lore, morality, storytelling as a whole). If you have a different opinion you are wrong and a bad person and stupid too. I genuinely think this person might be a narcissist and they are setting off every possible warning bell with me. Like I'm actually freaked out by how out of touch with reality they are. This person is making shit up that was never discussed, gaslighting like crazy, twisting words, and going into rages claiming I went nuclear when my whole point was 'why the fuck are you being mean to me and trying to boss me around???' I was very much not happy with the person but I was fucking careful not to insult them. And now I think this person doesn't want to leave me the hell alone. And like, I straight up said I don't want to talk to them further. When the user had a MASSIVE GODDAMN TANTRUM full of personal insults and accusations, I didn't reply. I thanked one other person in the forum for mentioning they read the message as hostile too, mentioned my 'leave me alone' message wasn't taken in its intended spirit, and touched briefly on why the accusations hit a particular sore spot. Then I apologized for derailing and switched to discuss character interpretations again.

Lunatic is like 'oh these replies to my message are so interesting, I'm going to answer you all once the website stops glitching'. And I swear to fuck I can hear the strings from Psycho going off.

I don't really trust that forum moderators will intervene. It's been a whole day since my first attempt to report, when the initial message happened. The second message was much worse. I generally don't trust people to take it seriously if harassment like that is happening. My assumption is if it's criminal I need to go to the police but otherwise like... no one is watching out for shit. And there is no block system on those forums.

I AM JUST TRYING TO MAKE CRAP MAN. I CARE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS. I CARE ABOUT AND INTERPRET CHARACTERS IN A WAY NOT EVERYONE ELSE DOES. I DON'T NEED PEOPLE TO AGREE BUT FOR FUCK'S SAKE LET ME MAKE AND TALK ABOUT SHIT IN PEACE. If I touch on a heavy topic, it's because I think it's warranted or adds a layer to the narrative that explains things or otherwise makes sense. I'm going to navigate heavy topics with care and empathy because I am very aware people get seriously hurt by that shit, a LOT of creators are actively cruel to victims, and! I love the characters! People are allowed to tell stories that cover the darker parts of human experience, not just the ones a single specific person approves of! And if you don't fucking like how someone else interprets or makes shit, DON'T READ IT AND MAKE YOUR OWN CRAP.

This was probably horrible interneting in the sense that I shouldn't have replied at all, but what the everloving fuck. How do you go up to random strangers and lead with condescension like that? How do you go through life just assuming everyone different from you has something wrong with them? EDIT: Person has escalated. Not sure what to do. Have reported a lot but no action yet. FURTHER EDIT: Mod showed up and said 'people are allowed to disagree, be nice, there's a hidden ignore button on a separate webpage'. The personal attacks are allowed to stand and TOS seem to be meaningless. Another user pointed out that the lunatic had been recognized as aggressive by two people and that my analysis wasn't unreasonable or uncommon even if they didn't subscribe themselves. Person private messaged with me and was pretty reassuring. I'm just on the page of 'fuck those forums I am never coming back' at this point, with the added understanding that if I tried to talk again at all the lunatic would 5000% continue trying to harass me. I just hope they get distracted and move on/forget basically. Fuck that shit.

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harleyacoincidence · 11 months ago

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I was tagged by @lost-on-the-highway for a get-to-know-you tag game. The link to the (long, mind you) post chain is here.

Here is the format:

Name(s)

Pronouns

Star sign

# of siblings & fun facts about them (if you have any)

# of pets & their names

Fandoms

Favorite color

Favorite song

Favorite author (of anything readable-- books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, whatever!)

Hobbies

Favorite fic type

Favorite holiday

Do you have any partner(s)? (romantic, qpp, anything!)

Fun facts about you / anything extra you wanna share!

Here is my portion:

Name - You may call me Harley.

Pronouns - He/him, but it's not that big a deal. I'm fine with any.

Star sign - Aquarius (had to look it up).

# of siblings & fun facts about them - I do not have any siblings, unfortunately.

# of pets & their names - Sadly, I also do not have any pets. I wish I did. I'd love to get a cat.

Fandoms - Star Trek, PJO, Mother, Pokémon, Cuphead: Don't Deal With the Devil, Doctor Who, Star Wars, Deltarune, D&D (not sure if this is technically a fandom, but oh well), Gravity Falls... There are probably more, but I've forgotten about them.

Favorite color - Lavender, easily.

Favorite song - Wonderland by Caravan Palace.

Favorite author - Honestly, I have quite a few, but my favourite author as of late has got to be Aziz (@aziz-reads on Tumblr). I'm on their taglists for a couple WIPs, and I couldn't be having a better time reading the snippets she provides. I definitely recommend checking out Rise of the Mantis (it's my favourite so far).

Hobbies - In my spare time, I make wire jewelry, work in my garden, read, write, and create odd scripts or videos for my close friends to enjoy.

Favorite fic type - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Fics of this type give me better inspiration for my own than ones of other types, and I don't know why.

Favorite holiday - Halloween, hands down. But really, one shouldn't need an excuse to watch horror movies with friends or family.

Do you have any partner(s)? - I have a queerplatonic partner. I love them a whole lot, and couldn't ask for anyone better.

Fun facts - I started working on a certain analog horror series with someone before they knew my name. Completely by coincidence, they suggested giving one of the key characters my name. I've kept it, both because I find it hilarious to think I would survive for a second in the world the character is a part of, but also because I jokingly torment them about it. They're an excellent sport.

Tagging (with no pressure) @chauceryfairytales @voidismyhome @a-had-matter and anyone who would like to join!

#tag game

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compact-katrina · 10 months ago

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I'll share my perspective. To be honest I don't really often look or notice how many notes a post I'm seeing or reading has. That said, and while I have a lot of appreciation for artwork and I like seeing images of people's creations, for me it's all about the stories. I dive in to g/t fiction both sfw and nsfw (but I've got the most part been reading sfw stuff). I hope that anyone who reads this and sees how all this writing has impacted me might consider giving reading g/t fiction more of a shot.

I was an avid reader as a kid, you almost never found me without my head in a book. As I grew up (and my ADHD progressed) I lost that. I didn't really read much in the way of fiction for years.

Enter g/t. I'll admit it was the more nsfw stuff that initially hooked me. But that was never my sole interest in g/t. I came to Tumblr as Twitter started to circle the drain. And I started having writing suggested to me. All kinds. So I started reading. I hope these people don't mind the tags but I have to acknowledge their impact on me.

My real passion for it started with @adjacentperception with Rose and Laporte. Those characters became real to me, just by reading, I had forgotten how amazing it was that when experiencing a story the characters all seem to come to life!

Through them I found @belethlegwen and The Faerie Spell of theirs first, and fell in love with those characters as well. She has other stories, including two ongoing works that have lots of chapters written already, The Stranding and The Rescue, which I haven't finished reading yet, but I'm working on them. Just a wealth of content that she's written and it's wonderful.

Later on I found @clumsiestgiantess through a post where she responded about the prompt that had inspired her to write The Mysterious Cabin, (which I was so excited to read when it came out, and it did not disappoint) and then got hooked on her other-world universe, which I cannot get enough of, and I messaged her about how much I liked her writing, and we became friends.

Then I found @tabbycatpuppy, and after reading its stories, I realized that all of its characters are people I'd just wanna hang out with socially, so I messaged it and said if it was anything like any of its characters, I thought we'd get along great, and so we became friends as well.

Most recently I've really enjoyed @miniscule-meow's writing, she's got several series that I absolutely love, including Isabel and the Lads (Apple I did see your post about taking down some of your writing to redo it, so if you want me to remove you from this let me know)

So like...honestly? And I don't say this lightly: All of these people have changed my life with their writing, I once again feel like I can visit worlds through writing, and I hope everyone who sees this gives their writing a read, because these stories are absolutely amazing art as well, and deserve recognition and visibility.

I get so invested in these characters and I feel bad for the authors when people just scroll past, but I also feel bad for the people who scroll by, because they're missing out on such meaningful content, and the people who the algorithm doesn't show it too if the post doesn't get enough notes.

TL/DR: Read. Please, these contributions to the community, along with others like them, matter so so much, and you aren't getting the full g/t experience by scrolling past all of the excellent fiction written by so many members of our community

An opinion about g/t media and the consumers.

Never thought fast-consumed media (pictures and drawings) will become most of what the g/t community is based on now. Back in the day you could read and sometimes you would see decent art here and there. Now? If you do not draw you don't get any notes. No one seems to care enough about your writing if you don't create art for it, of it or before it. I'm taking this off of mainly @entomolog-t 's posts as of right now (sorry for the tag, I do not mean to bother you with my meaningless rambling). But. I see their posts about their characters at least a hundred times a day; the art. ALWAYS the art. I started reading the actual stories and I was confused why those posts didn't have as many notes; simply, people care about the characters enough to like the g/t art made about them, but not enough to actually sit down and read about them. Most g/t writers are swept under the rug, even if their stories are incredibly, because they do not have art that includes g/t in it. And that says a lot to me. I value the artist, you can see how much time and effort goes into the art. But. Where is the value to the writers? Those that sit down and put in so much effort to please the people that love their character, only to be let down by only getting the half amount, if that, of the notes they, or artists receive on art. It makes me feel weird. Kinda makes the effort meaningless if you see posts about scribbles, G/T SCRIBBLES, get hundreds of notes, but amazing writing about 40 notes.

As someone who loves to write and put myself out there, it sucks the hope out of me, knowing because I can't draw, I'll never be recognized. And before you think 'oooh someone's jealous', no. Just simply, frustrated. Frustrated at how media works.

Now, I do not need to be flooded with hate comments, but I would love to hear other's opinion about this.

#fiction is so important #please read their stories #these authors are so fantastic #g/t fiction #g/t stories #g/t #giant/tiny

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florbelles · 2 years ago

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LYRA FAIRBANKS, FC5 // POPPY BELLEFLEUR, FCND // ISABELA FAIRBANKS, FC5-ADJACENT // ALANNA RYAN, FO3 // ELIZA CLARKE, FO3 // JOCELYN PERALTA, FNV // LILLIAN FITZGERALD, FO4 // AMARA OF VALLAKI, D&D

tagged by @roofgeese, @shallow-gravy, @chuckhansen, @risingsh0t, @indorilnerevarine & @leviiackrman to use this picrew again, ty beloveds!! sending on tags to @blackreaches, @adelaidedrubman, @belorage, @heroofpenamstan, @preachercuster, @jackiesarch, @shellibisshe, @queennymeria, @loriane-elmuerto, @arklay, @shadowglens, @denerims, @henbased, @strafethesesinners, @foofygoldfish, @teamhawkeye, @blissfulalchemist & anyone else can @ me xx

#i know i've forgotten tags but tumblr's suggesteds are Not Working so #picrew tag #tag memes #oc: lyra fairbanks #oc: poppy bellefleur #oc: isabela fairbanks #oc: alanna ryan #oc: eliza clarke #oc: jocelyn peralta #oc: lillian fitzgerald #oc: amara of vallaki

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addysfandomdump · 3 years ago

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I initially made a list in someone else's tags but since they've abandoned that blog and don't want anyone following it I figured it would probably work better to make it it's own post anyway.

Here's a list of Sonic artists/author's who have either posted or reblogged actual porn, has posted or reblogged suggestive content, made sexual comments, or just seem very creepy in general. This includes Tumblr, Twitter, and AO3 accounts, as that's where I'm personally most active. Feel free to add onto the list as need be.

This is not a callout post. This is a precautionary warning for younger fans like me to keep safe. Do not interact with the people on this list. Just block them.

Usually I'd block and move on but I've had too many accounts of discovering a cool new artist and then discovering they're a creep. So here's a blocklist.

Certified Creeps™:

@/banditobale - Makes suggestive content and fanart of Sonadow smut fics.

@/galsgeneration (aka sugarcunty on Twitter and katypery on AO3) - Writes Explicit Sonadow smut.

@/nottheweirdest1 (aka nottheweirdest on AO3) - Also writes Explicit Sonadow smut.

@/supafroote (aka supafroot on AO3) - Friends with nottheweirdest. Also writes Explicit Sonadow smut.

GaurdianDragon98 (AO3) - Writes Sonadow smut.

Tirainy (AO3) - Writes Sonadow smut. Hasn't posted in a while, though.

@/trenchcoat-gecko (same name for AO3) - Has written a Sonadow smut fic on AO3.

@/realperson022 (same name for AO3) - Writes Sonadow smut.

@/ironic-the-hedgehog (same name for AO3, aka horndoghedgehog on AO3) - Writes Sonadow smut. This one's a more naunced case. The person in question is a system with Sonic and Shadow introjects who are roughly 20-ish years old iirc. So I don't judge them as harshly as the others, since they could just be adults doin' what adults do. Still, they write Sonadow smut, so they qualify for the list.

Creators I don't know much of but have been warned about:

@/mellow-elbow

@/xenohog

@/mintywhisker

@/solar-socks

@/sonic-anomaly

This is by no means a comprehensive list. I'm sure there are blogs I've forgotten or don't know about. Feel free to add them in the replies or tags and it will be updated accordingly.

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonadow #the fact that a lot of these guys are grown-ass adults too... sickening #update!! removed some from the list as 'suspicious content' is not a atrong enough claim

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koolkat9 · 3 years ago

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What are you favorite germany/England fics?

Oh boy I've got a long list.

Basically anything by TeethHoarder. I’m going to sound like a broken record, but I always want to give credit where credit is due: Teeth was a big inspiration for me when it came to headcanons and figuring out Ludwig's characterization so they’re my go to when anyone asks for fics. They're also here on tumblr under that username and run the ask blog asking-gereng. Sorry, I got a bit carried away. Here are my favorite fics by them:

Are Friends Electric- My favorite fanfic ever. It hasn’t been completed yet, but last time I talked to Teeth they were wanting to continue it saying they were so close to finishing. Even incomplete it is such a compelling read and everything I could ever want from a GerEng fic. There is hurt/comfort, bonding over music, them taking care of Peter, angst, fluff, a good friendship between Arthur and Francis and Ludwig and Feli. It’s wonderful, I could never recommend it enough. It does get heavy and dark later on with drug use and a suicide attempt, but if that isn’t too much for you, I couldn’t recommend it more.

The Natural Underneath- A paranormal mystery based au. Normally I don’t like reading things tagged character death, but it’s so compelling with my favorite ship so I couldn’t stay away. It is also not complete yet, but apparently it’s also pretty close to being done. But again, like with the previous fic, it’s still a great read even with it not being complete yet.

This kiss prompt- Just super sweet, hurt/comfort with Arthur getting upset and Ludwig comforting him and ugh...Always one of my go to reads if I’m feeling down or stressed.

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Okay I’ve answered part of this ask before so I’m just going to copy and paste what I wrote for that, that way there is a complete list of my GerEng fic recs:

There is @/iship2muchshit who goes by IMAGI_nation over on ao3. She tends to write GerFra and Fruk, but she does got some GerEng in there and the best GerFruk out there. But you asked for GerEng so here are their GerEng fics, all sweet, but also humorous!

Falling in love with a stranger because he did not send you a dickpic is setting the bar quite low to be honest. (as you could assume it’s a bit mature, but nothing explicit). It’s very funny and really shows Ludwig and Arthur being the awkward dorks they are. Unfortunately, she hasn’t updated it in awhile, but she’s still hard at work on other fics.

The Great Eurovision Betrayal. It’s a fun read. They get tipsy together, watch Eurovision, kiss the whole shebang! This was actually the inspiration for my recent nsfw fic though my fic was based on this year’s results while Imagi’s is based on last year’s.

How a forgotten USB stick made Francis’ day. This is actually a prompt I suggested using one of my favorite dialogue tropes (don’t know if that’s the right word?).

Arthur likes tall blondes. What a way to start a relationship! That’s all I’ll say.

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Then we’ve got @/infusions-and-truths though I think you’ve already heard of them. They’ve done some GerEng stuff to and I love their writing a whole bunch:

So… I brought a Zoo? A cute little fic with Ludwig holding a cute bunny.

Rest your hands my dear: Soft affection, one of my favorite things!

What the Fae Queen Wants: This is based on a fairy au someone in my GerEng server shared and we discussed. Basically where a human Ludwig gets spoiled by his Fairy Queen lover Arthur while also making sure Arthur behaves.

Make Notes Out of Love AU: I don’t explore it often in my own writing, but I love to see a rivalry fic with Lud and Art.

This one doesn’t have a title, but it’s a really cute chessverse fic. They love to make chessverse au GerEng stuff and I love that!

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Some other fics from mutuals of mine:

You Look Cute When You’re Tired: Just some cute fluff with a tired Ludwig!

Maybe Tonight Wasn’t So Bad: Very cute nyo GerEng! Dancing the night away!

Two men on a couch: A fluffy sick fic! What more can I say?

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And here is a few others not from mutuals of mine:

Das Perfekte Geschenk: Just a cute little holiday fic with Ludwig trying to surprise Arthur.

A Break from Work: Ludwig needs a break and Arthur will make sure he’ll have one. Same author as the previous fic listed.

Weihnachtskeksen: Another fluffy Christmas fic! Just some cute Christmas morning stuff.

Telling Scary Stories in the Dark: Some fluff as the two share scary stories!

An Englishman under a tree: Some more Christmas fluff, because Christmas is their holiday.

Warmth: Some cute Ludwig mumbling in his sleep.

Night Like This: I’m so sad this fic got discontinued, but this fic is so well written and the dynamic and au idea is amazing! I’m working on a road trip au and while brainstorming ideas I kept thinking back to this fic so I think I’ll have to go back to it when I go to write my au.

Here We Go Again: Dramatic, sad, but also sweet.

We Were Alive Together: Sad ending, but super cute slideshow of their relationship.

The Telephone Rings: Also sad, but with a hopeful ending of healing together.

This one doesn’t really have a title, but its a cute mermaid au and I love it!

Another one with out a title, but it’s a very nice hurt/comfort fic about the mental toll it is to be a nation.

#hetalia #hws #gereng #engger #geruk #hws england #hws germany #fanfiction recommendations #fanfiction rec list

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martsonmars · 3 years ago

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Six Sentence Sunday

Thanks @urban-sith @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @johnwgrey @fatalfangirl for the tags!

You've heard of Six Sentence Sunday, but what about Six WIPs Sunday???

Under the cut because it's going to be a long ride.

1. I'm still on my Daphne bullshit, so here's a sequel that idk when will see the light.

Her husband had taken the receiver and listened to his son say, The Mage is dead. He had just nodded, and she didn't know if she was more happy that he hadn't burst into tears, or more disappointed by the lack of reaction – because if this didn't shake him, she had no hope of affecting him ever again.

2. For COC Day 2 - Wings, that I'll probably finish for next year's COC. (A bit NSFW.)

I push him off me – barely containing a whine when his fingers slip out of me and leave me even emptier than usual – and kneel on the floor. It’s hard and cold against my skin, and it feels like the right punishment for the kind of person I am. My father would probably laugh if he saw me now, naked and almost begging at the feet of a passionate socialist. (Then his laugh would turn into a mask of almost dissimulated disgust.) (Then he’d kick me out of my mother’s house and never let me see my siblings again.)

3. For COC Day 10 - Body Swap. Thanks Christina for suggesting gossip material.

He snorts, and I know I’m not the only one reliving the conversation we had last week – he’s seriously convinced Miss Possibelf and nurse Christy are shagging, but he’s just wrong. (It’s Possibelf and Professor Mino, of course. I even sold twelve Minobelf pins since the start of the school year. I know I’m right.)

“Well, let’s avoid teacher talk then,” I concede. “Do you think Gareth thrusts his hips in private too, or he does it only for our enjoyment?”

4. Specky Baz chapter 3! It's fully outlined but between writing crises and exams idk when I'll have time to write it.

But we're always touching anyway. Holding hands in the classes we share (I've never been more glad that I'm right-handed and he's not) and during meals, even when our friends start making gagging sounds and call us disgusting. (The teachers don't say anything. Mr Benedict tried to say we were disrupting the classroom's atmosphere, but when Baz quietly complained with Miss Possibelf she told the professor to shut up, because holding hands is not a crime and he did not comment when Elspeth basically sat in her boyfriend's lap half of the time last year.)

5. Goblin!Baz. I haven't forgotten about it. After COC and server exchange are over I'll pick it up again because I miss it.

“Magic doesn’t want you dead,” I say. It’s true. I don’t think magic is sentient, and even if it were it probably couldn’t be arsed to worry about stupid fights. This is a stupid fight. The Mage never even told me why it started. When he began teaching me about dark creatures he just told me the goblins were evil and dangerous for Normals and mages and any other poor creature. He told me they were bloodthirsty monsters feeding on the flesh of their victims. Then he brought me to a meeting I don’t remember a word of, and he took me to that club and made me kill them. Like you’d kill a mosquito that’s bothering you in the middle of the night.

I don’t think the Mage ever stops to wonder if these creatures have a life.

6. Snippet of exchange fic that I've written right now here on Tumblr just to share it.

"So? Are you going to stand all day in the middle of the room like a proper numpty?" she asks, waving her broom in the air so threateningly that my (sometimes awake by miracle) self-preservation instinct makes me duck my head. I'm cowering in fear in front of a woman who's a whole head shorter than me, and this is probably how the world should work.

I realise I still haven't moved, so I pick up my bag and look at her helplessly.

"You really have no idea how to be in the world, do you?" she says, something that dangerously looks like a smile softening her face. I shake my head and she pushes her glasses up her nose. "Alright. Let's start over. I'm Penelope. Penelope Bunce."

If you've made it this far, I love you. If you haven't, I love you anyway.

Tagging @wellbelesbian @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @forabeatofadrum @bazzybelle @prettylightsbigcity @dragoneggo if you have anything to share or just to say hi <3

#my writing #sorry i just need validation for wips that i'll spend months finishing #six sentence sunday

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sixstepsaway · 2 years ago

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I think it works the same as any other fanwork, the canonical tag is Meta but it's like. Uncommon? For some reason? I dont understand why everyone leaves the meta on tumblr and twitter where it becomes unfindable in less than a month lol

If you go into that tag and filter by fandom you get the huge behemots like the mcu and supernatural with less than a 1000 works with the tag, and also Meta for fandom in general (like the a/b/o primer which has 8000 kudos by now wow), but still should give you an idea how it's been used. I've also seen it tagged Meta Essay but that one isn't a tag that can be filtered for. Basically it's not done enough to have a super established procedure 🤷‍♂️

Multiple works in a series makes sense to me, or like, grouped by character or theme it's centering on maybe. Mostly because it lets people use the Inspired By function to reference one in particular but also bc you deserve kudos on each one!

Anyway if it's not solid enough to combat the anxiety it's ok too! I just wanted to let you know it's an option since you've put so much work on these

Nah, that's solid enough. I'll do some digging in the tags you suggested a bit later and then start putting my metas up there. If you sub my account you'll see them go up in a day or so, and if you don't, please come poke me because I will have just forgotten, not anything more sinister than that.

#ask #anonymous

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tortilla-of-courage · 3 years ago

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Okay, sit down and listen up, we're going on a trip through history.

It started in The Elder Scrolls (tes) fandom (which is Skyrim and it's related games). My best friend runs the blog @kagrenacs, where this all started. Specifically, they made a post at some point about the character Kagrenac from that series being a trans woman.

Some asshole, neonjude, decided they didn't like this (using they for lack of information on the pronouns they use). At one point they even said something along the lines of 'Don't tumblrize elder scrolls with your bullshit', which is a hilarious line that was understandably turned into a meme for a while.

Shortly after this, the rest of the tes fandom chased neonjude off of tumblr, because neonjude didn't realize tumblr mostly hosts the half of the tes fandom that treats canon like a bag of scraps full of suggestions (there's this whole thing with the tes fandom being made up of two halves, but no one here cares about that, so just know that neonjude was from one half and my best friend from the other and they disagree on a lot when it comes to how the canon of the series works. Because canon in this series is also really, really weird).

At some point, one of the others from my best friend's half of the fandom grabbed the url and made the first Woody blog. At the time, both Kagrenacs and I had mostly forgotten about the thing. And then more Woody blogs popped up. And more. And people paid attention.

So my best friend looked into it, and, well...

They made the post promoting the blogs to 'Sheriff' (I remember this so clearly, we were in my room hanging out when it happened. They were sitting on my bed and I was at my desk only half paying attention when I was asked what you could promote a cowboy to) and then we forgot about it again.

And then, well, the rest is pretty self evident.

I've included a link to the post they made on the timeline if you want the sources and more detail past this part.

https://kagrenacs.tumblr.com/post/655444496236019712/kagrenacs-ok-early-march-2017-i-post-generic

So, uh, TL;DR My best friend @kagrenacs made a post some jerk called neonjude hated about headcanons for a character in The Elder Scrolls, and then it snowballed way out of control.

To this day, we joke about them being "Parent of the Cowboy". Because it's just... Yeah.

-Attllhak

(tagging your main blog here so it's easier to access @iamyourchair)

i... this was such a wild read from start to end??? i am completely amazed... The Woody Hive Mind Saga...

#it's crazy to think something so big could start so casually #well im not sure if that's the proper word #glad that guy got put in their place but also oh my god #can you imagine leaving a website and then checking it again only to see your old username's active with a woody picture??????#attllhak #tortilla asks #sorry for taking a bit to post this it was weird to add the other asks on mobile

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shadowed-artist · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there! I really love your animatics and I hadn't realised that you had a Tumblr until today. Your art is freaking gorgeous! It's kinda messy and cute and it's just really great all around, awesome work. And your colouring is really pretty do. What do you use to draw/make your animatics? I want to make one as well, but I am *very much* an amateur with no digital art programs, tablets or pens. So what do you use and how did you go from art to animatics? Thank you for your time.

Thank you so much! This made my day

I use firealpaca for drawing and iMovie for putting the animatics together. I regretfully don't know the name of my drawing tablet because I got it as a Christmas present a few years ago and have since forgotten what kind it is (I also lost the box. whoops)

That's awesome that you want to make an animatic! They are time consuming, but it's honestly really fulfilling to look at the finished product and say "I MADE that!"

How I made the switch from art to animatic? Honestly, they are very similar (at least, the way I do animatics). My animatics are just many pieces of art stitched together in time with the song, so there wasn't really a technical process I had to switch from. I treat each frame as a simple sketch, then I just draw a lot of them

The biggest challenge of doing animatics is simply how time consuming they are and how many drawings you physically have to do. My "Defying Gravity" one used 218 drawings, not counting repeated frames, whereas my "Must have been the wind" animatic only took 79 drawings. The more details you want (and the longer the song), the more frames you have to draw.

If I were to do polished frames with proper line art it would probably take longer, but like you said, my style is "messy and cute" so I can get away with not being very precise. (Pro tip: it is much faster drawing hands if they are just vague hand-like shapes lol).

You say you have no digital stuff, so I'm assuming you'd want to use pencil and paper? I'm not gonna lie, doing an animatic that way is hard. I tried doing it a while back (before I got my tablet) and I never finished because I got impatient. (The benefit of working digitally is that you don't have to redraw extremely similar poses. You can copy layers, erase expressions, redraw an arm, and boom. New frame. It saves a ton of time)

That being said, try your best and see how it turns out! If my guess is correct and you're going to use pencil and paper, I suggest starting with something short (maybe a tiktok or vine audio?) just so you can get a feel for the process and see whether you can handle doing a longer song using that method

Most important advice I can give: Your style will evolve as you get more practice, so be kind to yourself if your first attempt doesn't look the way you want it to. I'm STILL figuring out how to shade properly, and that is something I will only learn with time. As they say, practice makes perfect

Did this help at all? I've been very sleepy all day and it's kind of late, but I wanted to respond before I went to bed. Hopefully something here is useful, best of luck!

(And if you DO end up making an animatic, feel free to send me the link or tag me in it! I'd love you see what you come up with!)

#oh I rambled HARD I am so sorry if you wanted a short response

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thylady · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 212 times in 2021

52 posts created (25%)

160 posts reblogged (75%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.1 posts.

I added 36 tags in 2021

#spotify - 9 posts

#thylady - 7 posts

#original - 5 posts

#my writing - 4 posts

#desiblr - 3 posts

#19 years old - 3 posts

#musings - 2 posts

#writblr - 1 posts

#indian kids be like - 1 posts

#aries - 1 posts

Longest Tag: 26 characters

#reading it being an indian

My Top Posts in 2021

Since I've not been around for a while, I thought to share my notes from the first week of the free mental health course by Yale University I applied for a fortnight ago. Trust me I know nothing about journalling and I'm a terrible student for that matter,yet used the basic Blue & Black ink alternatively for my understanding,no other reason.

‌P. S. Also,lately I've been thinking to start a blog about Gen Z youths as of now, weekly most probably, but I don't know whether to open a new account for that or not, please suggest me and random ASKs are always welcome. Glad to come to any of your help if I can, though you cannot pour from an empty cup must I tell they say!

- thylady

Please share your views : @wordsaremydiary @wonderingprocrastinator @bluelogy @floralbeast @aakhyasharma @mishti-doi @just-a--man @sizzlingdazebear @adifferentshadeofpink @starviki @alexthemagicalgirl

With💜XOXO

12 notes • Posted 2021-05-09 19:45:33 GMT

you know when you feel jealous and sad both at the same time when you see your new friend has forgotten and then you also step in his/her shoes and try to understand and then you consider yourself being immaturely over-sensitive "seeking attention" in most people's words & you hate it to be morose as it's a Tumblr Mutual ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Well in my case it's @mishti-doi but you've forgotten me and I don't mean you any hurt ಠ﹏ಠ

And where the hell are you @aakhyasharma ??? I miss you ᕦ(ಠ_ಠ)ᕤ

Here's a song for you

And for all of you : @meganasaurusx @bluelogy @floralbeast @aakhyasharma @starviki @wordsaremydiary @mango-pickle @alexthemagicalgirl @adifferentshadeofpink @edgar--allan--h0e @wonderingprocrastinator

Omg I forget so much as I get more mutuals,also you hon @sizzlingdazebear (╥﹏╥)

12 notes • Posted 2021-05-14 00:16:55 GMT

It feels so nice when Tumblr feels home ಥ_ಥ

@mishti-doi @sepehrr @skiesandflowerss @ruins-of-heart

love you all (╥﹏╥) ��

14 notes • Posted 2021-10-28 15:23:46 GMT

GEN Z YOUTH TODAY(INTRO)

So basically there are going to be 3 pointers for today and without further ado,let me start.

First of all, what is Gen Z? Why there is so much hype about them,et cetera?

Gen Z is the abbreviation of Generation Z. Yes, you are absolutely correct,the last generation in terms of the alphabets, but wait........does that mean the generations succeeding them have no names? Well of course not! The generation after Z is the Alpha Gen and so on. Generation Z is considerably named after the generation of people born in between 1995-2012 but I personally consider it to be till 2010 because that was the year since when the hype of Facebook and other areas of technology were coming into the spotlight. As mentioned above,the Alpha Gen is considered to be the generation of children born in between 2012-(I'll update:-P).

Now, a general misconception is all the 90's children are Millennials and all the early 2000's children fall under Gen Z, which I not at all agree with. Millennials are the people born in between 1985-1995,when the change in society in terms of rational thinking and new inventions was witnessed all over the world. Digging further,one may ask if the people born after 1995 but before 2000 fall under Gen Z at all,to which the answer will be, it varies from person to person. Since people born after 1995 are late 90's children,some may have grown up holding onto the culture of the early 90's children, the Millennials while others may have grown up owning up to the vivid culture of Gen Z,as 2000 neared more and more. One more factor that works in the case of these people is the combination of their work and personal lives - a late 90's child with a 9to5 job is more likely to be a Millennial than someone born in the same period busy netsurfing(a new word from this gen) at home.

The main reason for them to be the "hot topic" is not only because its young teenagers are becoming young adults(do not confuse this phrase with the literary genre, I repeat DO NOT) but for a greater reason - presumably in a million centuries, Generation Z is recorded as the first generation to be born to bring CHANGE in the society and thus, the world : the generation that speaks Charity begins at home in actions and not words,as reported by tons of researchers and psychologists. This is the generation that expresses its mind without any filter(another word to be learnt from these folks),stands up for what is right and wrong and is much more comfortable than any other generation accepting the world as it is.

Second,why I chose this generation as my topic out of all other topics to start my blog?

The answer is simple. Being a Gen Z youth myself, I know exactly how much our(since I am not talking about myself only) generation is misunderstood and misinterpreted every single day, and when I woke up one morning randomly searching about Gen Z on Google sipping my bed tea, I realised I need to start talking about this topic sooner than the right time, as long as my blood is warm within, else I shall miss out recording my musings as a young adult of '21,not only to understand "us" better but also to understand our seniors and all other generations,even our juniors.

Third, what is the point of this blog?

I hope, anyone and everyone, reading this blog, feels better than before, because this generation is recorded as the Most Depressed one too(since birth,trust me), for being helpless to have too many choices but not the right one, and helps one another to feel good a bit more and also,most importantly, gets to know oneself better, for often we need a reminder to check the validity of the entirety of our soul.

Concluding this, I give you a punky song as of today and planning to give you one from different genres one at a time, at the end of every Gen Z Youth Today blog.

P. S. I was wondering whether my mutuals exist at all or it's just that they've forgotten me ┐( ˘_˘)┌

- thylady

With💜XOXO

Dated 10.05.2021

22 notes • Posted 2021-05-10 17:48:34 GMT

What if ; 9/8/10

What if;

A question I bombard myself

too much with nowadays,

fear and anxiety crawling in

to hold a place in my little world

of depression and diaries,

filled with entries of what would've

had me hours passed crying out loud

with nobody to hear but myself

and ask once again

What if;

A day came in my life

where all of this was rewinded to

and I was a happy kid,

or at least one as I thought myself to be

and I was a completely different being

with a place held on above at a height

much higher from the ground

which I never realised but

What if;

A pet I have in the years ahead

never leaving my side for once

and is just there for me in general,

when here I am

dreading my life on a situation

happened almost three months ago

which probably had a lot of possibilities

to create a scenario in my head

See the full post

38 notes • Posted 2021-08-20 04:34:23 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Spotify

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shiberpostshere · 5 years ago

Text

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

10. Chapter Six: It's okay buddy, get used to it✨

(Images below Text)

Previous Part✨ Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Date: 07.09.19 ✨

You and your friends have been frequenting Cafe Utopia these days due to the fact that San works there part time and Wooyoung dropps by often as his dance studio falls nearby. You might end up becoming a regular since the Dazzling Night crew uses the place as a daily meeting spot if not working in the recording studio.

The interior of the cafe is as the name suggests, magical and mesmerising. The entire furniture is ebony and golden bulbs hang low from the ceiling, the lighting being ten out of ten.

San had left with Yeri fifteen minutes ago after his shift ended to hang out at the apartment with Wooyoung and Yunho, who together went to the dance club and were also flat-mates.

You might as well just make a friendship chart to trace back all your recent friendships somehow to Seonghwa.

The first ever meeting is to be held today at 5PM. Jongho and you arrived an hour earlier to calm down with caffeine and to pretend to do college work while you just conversed about random topics leading nowhere. He slurped his iced americano as you sipped your black coffee.

“So, you're all cool now? Hundred percent?” He murmurs under his breath while scanning the script given by Yeosang.

The topic of embarrassment hadn’t surfaced back onto your consciousness after texting Seonghwa as you had distracted yourself by binge watching Brooklyn 99 with Yeri for half of the night. Classes occupied your mind in the morning and you only thought about Seonghwa's text with full concentration for fifteen minutes while waiting for your orders at the cafe.

At the end, you decided to just deal with it.

You chug down the remaining beverage. “Yeah. I've decided to face Song Mingi and Park Seonghwa with the power of caffeine and god by my side.” The empty mug feels irritating.

San had warned you before leaving not to get another refill, presumably what might have been your seventh cup of the day.

“You literally groaned like a dinosaur after receiving his text.” He gives you a long face.

“Of course I would! He called me cute, he’s obviously making fun of me.” You pack your study material and open your laptop for the meeting.

He considers a thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s just clueless.”

“He’s actually that clueless.” The sudden comment from Yeosang makes you and your friend jump as he settles down at the table.

Mingi takes a seat beside him along with Hongjoong. "I can vouch for that, you know I've known him since high school."

You and Jongho look around for a moment before taking in the group's sudden arrival.

Seonghwa occupies the remaining seat, beside you and your friend. "I'm literally right here, guys. Hi (Y/N), hey Jongho."

"And?" Mingi says as he unpacks his laptop along with his friends, except Hongjoong.

You shake your head, crossing your arms below your chest. "You guys are sure acting all cool about the group chat."

Hongjoong is the only one with a notepad in front of him and he replies while studying some scribbles. "We're pretending to be cool about it."

"You seem quite unphased too." Yeosang states with a brow raised.

Jongho answers in your stead. "She's buzzing with caffeine, nothing can affect her."

You nod proudly in agreement and point at your now empty mug. "Yeah, I had six cups of courage coffee."

Seonghwa begins to type on his laptop. "That's disturbingly unhealthy."

"Okay, Grandpa, sure."

"That's no way to address your college senior." He attempts to deliver the statement with a serious voice but you catch the corner of his lips lifting up.

Mingi leans forward gleefully, placing his chin in his palms. "Oh my god, look at you two, flirting like the old times." His eyelashes blink at you devilishly.

You hold up a palm at him like the traffic police, "Okay, Song Mingi, sure." At which he feigns a shocked expression.

Even Seonghwa appears surprised by your response.

Jongho pats on your back, you chuckle. "You go, (Y/N)!"

Hongjoong clears his throat and garners everyone’s attention, “Enough bickering. Meeting time.”

Everyone naturally falls silent at his words.

Seonghwa rubs his palms together. “Okay, alright. (Y/N) and Jongho, welcome to the Dazzling Night team. I will just go through some details, if you wish to, you can note them down.”

Seonghwa begins explaining the agenda and workings of the radio show to you and Jongho. Meanwhile, the others discuss something of their own. You decide to note down the important details.

You learn that Dazzling Night airs from Monday to Friday, every night at 10 PM. Jongho will be joining Yeosang as an announcer. Hongjoong is mostly absent due to other commitments and Seonghwa monitors the process under the guidance of Professor Lee.

You pause for a moment, looking back and forth at the two involved in the conversation. “Hold up, if Hongjoong isn’t involved every night then who will I be working under?”

Seonghwa ponders for a moment on how to answer your question, whilst Jongho avoids your gaze.

A finger taps on your shoulder. “Hi.” Mingi grins at you widely.

Your eyes widen. “You’re the audio engineer?” He nods with the grin ever present.

Hongjoong gently taps Mingi’s cheeks with his pen. “You will be but he attends the dance club in the evening so I will be guiding you through it, don’t worry.”

You fall back into your chair, feeling deflated like a balloon. “Great, that’s great.”

“Who will I be working with?” Jongho questions.

“We’ll be meeting together everyday to go through the script, rehearse and make changes.” Yeosang answers his question.

"And, we'll have follow up group meetings to join those fragments of work together." The mullet guy concludes.

Curious, you turn towards Seonghwa. “What about you?”

He too, offers you his full attention. “What about me?”

“What about him?” Mingi’s voice interjects. “Are you asking what’s his deal? He’s single.”

“I am” The male besides you answers and your jaw drops with shock altogether.

“Why would you answer his question! That’s not what I was asking! I was asking what role do you play!”

You hear Jongho snicker and shove an elbow to silence him.

“Oh.” He bites his tongue in between his teeth. “I am the team leader, I observe and finalize things.” His expression truly appears clueless or he’s extremely good at faking it.

“Um, anyway. Seonghwa will also be monitoring you for the following week. I can’t stay back so he’ll be correcting you in my stead.” The composer’s words cause you to fall back more and more, hoping the chair would come alive and suffocate you to death.

“You’re not entirely unphased.” Mingi eyebrows dance up and down.

Yeosang closes his laptop, concerned. “Seonghwa tends to be like that. Why did you like him back then?”

Mingi attempts to hold back his laughter at the question.

Yep, chair, c’mon, kill me.

Seonghwa slams his palms on the table with a gentle thud. “I am right here, I am literally right here!”

Unable to fathom what's going to happen anymore, you place a hand gently on his shoulder. “It’s okay buddy, it’s okay. Get used to it. It’s the only way.”

Seonghwa glances at your hand, trying to hold back his smile at your gesture.

✨

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

A/N: What is Seonghwa doing? 🤔 (Tumblr didn't save my draft so I had to make the post twice 🙃) Also, this needs serious editing which I'll be doing tomorrow.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💫

🌸Tags:

@enigmaticsal @missiopk @stardusthyuck @preets-kpop-world @rae-wo0 @sanisms @minjiyeonnie @retrofuture-ism @hongjoongsnoona

Unable to tag: @mingiibabieee

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim these images.

#ateez #ateez sm au #ateezsmau #ateez social media au #ateez fake texts #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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ckret2 · 6 years ago

Text

The Door In Petrex’s Quarters

So there’s a cool new blog on Tumblr called @tfspeedwriting where they post a bunch of prompts on Saturday and you choose one and writing something! There’s basically no rule except that you have to do it in under two hours. So anyway this took me about four hours, which were spread out over a total of ten hours.

I’m good at this game.

(If you're on mobile, the readmore malfunctions, and you gotta scroll past all this, I'm sorry for your suffering.)

Prompt: Pick a music playlist on a device of your choice. The second line of the third song is your prompt. (“Song 3”—I swear the title’s a coincidence—by Stone Sour: “So I'll keep you close, and keep my secret safe.”) Continuity: made-up Shattered Glass AU for IDW continuity Ship: Prowl/Tarantulas, but you’ll wish it wasn’t. Wordcount: 5200-ish Summary: They say that Petrex, leader of the Autobot Justice Division, can’t feel love. Petrex prefers it that way. Or: how Prowl tamed his pet scientist. Tags: Angst, abusive relationship, all hurt no comfort.

They say there's a doorway in Petrex's private quarters where his berth is supposed to be.

It's an empty metal doorframe. The space where there should be a door is filled by cement mixed with strange, dark, multicolor rubble. They say that Petrex sleeps on it, curled up on his side, a hand pressed against the surface of the shut doorway like he wants to press through to the other side.

They say the door still works. They say it goes somewhere. They say all you have to do is turn it on.

They say a lot of things about Petrex.

They say the reason that he wears a cold white Autobrand-shaped mask is because he has a cold white Autobrand-shaped face underneath, and that he'd rather people think he's hiding his expressions than let them know he doesn't have any expressions at all. He is as icy, and as hard, and as unmovable, and as implacable as marble; and Terminus save your ember if you dare try to chip that marble.

They say that nobody has ever joined the Autobot Justice Division willingly—nobody except for Petrex, its founder, its leader, and its symbol. They say that every member of the Autobot Justice Division is someone who tried to flee or betray the Autobots, but who had potential, had a use; and so, as their punishment, instead of adding them to the AJD's list for retribution, Petrex added them to the AJD itself, chained them in service to himself, and turned them into essential cogs in the machine that grinds up other criminals and turncoats.

They say he's not a person, but a drone, a machine designed for order and logic and laws, capable only of understanding emotions in a theoretical sense, and then only far enough to determine how he might make use of them.

Petrex doesn't deny anything anyone says about him.

"Mesothulas. Mesothulas!"

Mesothulas started, almost dropping his welder. Terminus below, he wasn't expecting Prowl so soon—he wasn't supposed to come for another two weeks, was he? Why was he early? Had something gone wrong, had his latest offering malfunctioned? Part of him hoped desperately that it had; the rest of him dreaded the consequences of such a failure. Maybe Prowl had forgotten their schedule and come early? Mesothulas had never known him to do so before, but oh, if he had, if he was expecting Mesothulas's next work to be done today and it wasn't— Or, even worse, what if Prowl was right on time, what if Mesothulas had forgotten the schedule—

"I'm here!" He dropped the welder to the floor, ran for the stairs to the lab entryway, skidded an about face to go turn off the welder, and sprinted for the stairs—woe to him if he kept Prowl waiting a second too long. "I'm here, I'm here, I—I'm so sorry, Prowl, I didn't know you were coming. I was working, I'm sorry."

Prowl was standing, waiting, in the middle of the entryway. (Ostaros was so close to him, just a few feet to Prowl's left. Mesothulas's plating crawled—he shouldn't have left Ostaros out in the open like that. What if Prowl spotted him, decided after all that work that he didn't like the result? If anything happened to him—) His helmet was already off, tucked under one arm, and his red optics were so bright they were pink, nearly the same shade as Mesothulas's armor. Was he mad or happy? Mesothulas couldn't tell from the top of the stairs.

"I should hope you were working," Prowl said. "You've only got a couple of weeks left to finish the guilt extractor." So Mesothulas hadn't forgotten their schedule—that was a relief. But then why was he here?

"Yes, I know, I—I'm right on schedule, it'll be done in time." He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and waited, his heels pressed up against the bottom step, not taking a step closer.

And then Prowl walked toward him. Mesothulas's ember jumped into his throat. The way Prowl moved—even in armor—Mesothulas could practically visualize how his joints moved underneath it. There was such control, such confidence, such precision in his motions; he radiated such strength that Mesothulas felt weaker just for being in his presence. Everything Prowl did made him feel weaker. His fuel tank fluttered, his ember guttered, his fans sputtered.

When he was alone, he told himself that it was fear—very rational fear, for more than once he and his slipped schedule had been on the receiving end of the infamous wrath of the Autobot Justice Division's Petrex.

("I'll teach you to keep on schedule," Prowl had said before; and it was both an indulgent offer to take him under his wing and a threat. "Every cog ticks in time around me. I make sure of it.")

Yes—Mesothulas told himself the weakness he felt around Prowl was born of fear. But when he was in Prowl's presence, he knew that was only half true.

When he was with Prowl, he was almost desperate to impress him.

Words tumbled out of him: "I'm—I'm almost done with the guilt extractor, actually. Ahead of schedule." It was risky business to tell Prowl when he was ahead of schedule. On the one hand, yes, he'd be immediately gratified with Prowl's approval—and oh, when Prowl approved of him, it was heavenly. For a moment, on the timepiece that was Prowl's carefully-wound life, Mesothulas was a jewel mounted in the center of its face, sparkling in the light of Prowl's delight. But Prowl never forgot a promise; and when Mesothulas promised a faster delivery, Prowl updated his expectations accordingly. If he fell behind again, it meant Prowl's wrath was twice as hot; because now, not only had he failed to meet Prowl's schedule, he'd also lied about getting ahead and maliciously stolen some of Prowl's approval.

(So Prowl made him feel, anyway. Sometimes Mesothulas nearly believed it.)

But the way Prowl's optics lit up made Mesothulas immediately forget the consequences. The consequences would come later. Today—now—Prowl's arms were outstretched, and he said, voice a little louder, "That's wonderful!" Prowl's tone of voice never changed; it only got louder or softer, and either direction could be good or bad; but whichever direction it went, it could make Mesothulas's ember flicker with fear or blaze with joy and longing for more. "I can expect it sooner, then. Would you say by the end of the week."

Without stopping to think, Mesothulas said, "Without a doubt," and immediately felt faint; although he wasn't sure whether it was from the monumental scale of this promise, or from the way Prowl's arms wrapped around him: one pressed to his upper back, pulling Mesothulas's face against the chest of his armor; and one pressed lower on his back, so suggestively low that Mesothulas's armor burned where Prowl's fingers touched him. Mesothulas's own fingers burned as well, itching with the urge to wrap his arms around the thick waist of Prowl's rad suit—but to do so without explicit permission was dangerous. Mesothulas had courted enough danger by promising the guilt extractor so soon.

"Good," Prowl said—his voice was so soft now, and Mesothulas's legs were weak. "I'll hold you to it."

Mesothulas's ember filled with dread, and he wanted even more to wrap himself around Prowl—not just physically, but spiritually, to bind himself to his... to his perverse muse, the walking inspiration for all the most wondrous things he'd ever created.

"But that's not what I'm here about."

... And the most horrible things. He tensed with the urge to pull back, but couldn't. Not until Prowl was ready to let him go.

"Oh, I've—" Mesothulas spoke quickly, "—I've been working on another project too, since I'm getting so far ahead on the guilt extractor—you'll be pleased, I'm sure—it's the one you thought up, to make use of all those scraps of reality I've got sitting around—"

"I'm sure I will be pleased." Prowl finally let go, and stepped back, and Mesothulas wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. "But that's not what I'm here for, either." His head dipped down slightly, and not for the first time Mesothulas marveled through his fear at how much Prowl could express through nothing but the tilt of his head and the way his gaze came through his mask. "And I know a distraction when I hear it."

"I—I'm sorry, I just thought you'd want to—"

"Mesothulas."

"Yes! Forgive me! Y-you were saying? You're here about—?"

"Carpessa."

Mesothulas's fuel tank twisted. He had heard of the neutral city. He'd never been there before. He had no connection to it. Prowl had never mentioned it before. Mesothulas knew exactly what happened to it. "Th... The bomb...?"

"Worked flawlessly," Prowl said, and the bottom of Mesothulas's twisted fuel tank dropped out completely. "I don't know how you managed to cobble together a bomb out of pathetic Decepticon parts that has such explosive capacity, and yet can still be mistaken for something they made—but I must hand it to you, everyone was fooled. Even the Prime is marveling at their unanticipated savagery. This will throttle their chances to get any interstellar allies rallying behind their cause, when they can't play the poor innocent victims. A job well done, Mesothulas. For the most part."

Every word was an icicle through Mesothulas's ember. It took him several tries to choke out the word, "S-survivors?"

Prowl hesitated. "Too many," he said. "There were less than fifteen hundred fatalities. That's why I'm here, to discuss my requirements for the next model. Which I'd like you to get to work on as soon as possible. I was going to give you an extension on the guilt extractor so you could begin to work on the bomb immediately, but if you think you can be done in a week, then you can finish it first and get to work on the next bomb—"

"No."

He hadn't planned it. He hadn't meant to say it. And if he had the choice, he'd rather throw himself on Terminus's teeth than spend one more nanosecond watching in horror as Prowl's head slowly tilted down, and his optics blazed brighter.

Quietly, Prowl said, "No."

For a moment, the lab was so quiet, Mesothulas could hear Ostaros's vents cycling air. Ostaros. Never mind what Prowl might do to him—what might he do to Ostaros? Prowl could rip Mesothulas to shreds, but the mere thought of him scratching Ostaros's soft paint, the enamel hadn't even cured yet—

"Well," Prowl said, just as quietly, "if you'd rather keep to the original schedule, then—take the extension on the guilt extractor, and work on it and the bomb simultaneously..."

For a moment, the heavens opened up, a beam of light shone down on Prowl, and a holy chorus played. Prowl didn't offer second chances. Never. The Autobot Justice Division culled and amputated all limbs of the Autobot Army that no longer served what Petrex considered to be their appropriate purpose. Weakness was to be eradicated. Mesothulas should have been honored to be so indulged after wavering from the path Prowl had assigned him. All he had to do was accept it, and get back to work. Continue singing the songs his muse wrote for him. All would be well and beautiful, and if Mesothulas was good, every once in a while Prowl would touch him as kindly as he had a moment ago.

And there would be more Carpessas.

No. No, he couldn't, not again. Damn whatever Prowl might do to him—to them—oh, Ostaros, Mesothulas is so sorry—but Mesothulas and Ostaros were only two people. How many had died in Carpessa? He couldn't let it happen again.

His voice was barely a whisper. "I can't."

Prowl's optics flashed brighter, and Mesothulas flinched. "Excuse me." Yet another chance to correct his errant wording. Mesothulas was drowning in indulgences today. He wondered if Prowl had ever before been so lenient with anyone else. If he was smart, he'd take this chance.

But Carpessa. "Forgive me, I'm sorry, I—"

Prowl lunged forward, seizing him by the collar of his chestplate, and Mesothulas cried out, nearly sobbing. "You've always been so obedient," he hissed. "You've done your job so well. It's what I like so much about you." (Even now, ready to die, Mesothulas's ember blazed brighter at the praise. Terminus, Terminus, Mesothulas would do anything for Prowl—not just out of fear—but he couldn't do this. Over a thousand lives were already on his hands.) "After all that, you haven't suddenly developed a streak of naughtiness, have you."

"No! Never!" Mesothulas grabbed at Prowl's gauntleted hand. "I—I'm still useful to you, I swear! I can build you more troops—reliable troops—without waiting for Terminus to reawaken—"

"Surely you're not referring to your vapid pet project that smiled at me when I came in."

"He's not done. When he's finished—"

"I asked for a bomb!" He shook Mesothulas to emphasize the word. This time Mesothulas did sob.

"Wh-w-what about the guilt extractor? Or—or the project with the reality scraps? I've stitched it into a serviceable prison, I—I could show—"

Prowl shook Mesothulas again, and he fell silent. But Prowl said nothing. It was more terrifying than anything he might have said. Even a death sentence would end the suspense.

But finally—voice back at its usual volume—he said, "Show me."

Surely, no one in all of Cybertronian history had been shown as much mercy as the merciless Prowl had shown to Mesothulas today. "Oh—th-thank you—you'll be so pleased, I'm sure of—"

"Just move." Prowl let go of Mesothulas, and shoved him backwards. He tripped backwards on the stairs, crashed down, and for a moment in his panic actually tried to clamber up them backwards on his hands and heels before he managed to roll over and rush to his feet.

"This way!" He took the stairs two at a time, and heard Prowl following heavily behind.

He had to get out. He couldn't stay here, not like this. This would only work as a distraction, and Mesothulas couldn't risk Ostaros's life again. He'd done it in the spur of the moment, but next time he'd be weak, he knew it. It wouldn't be long before Prowl figured out he could get whatever he wanted if he threatened Ostaros.

He'd get through this. He'd hand over his prison if Prowl asked for it. And then he and Ostaros had to disappear.

"I call it the Noisemaze. It's—I-it's—" He'd had a description of it he'd been working on, trying to figure out how to convey what it was while leaving out all the words like horrifying and monstrous and unconscionable, all the little descriptors that Prowl didn't like to hear Mesothulas say; but the words failed him now, and all he could say about it was, "it induces sensory overload."

"Is that it."

"Extreme sensory overload," Mesothulas protested. Keep talking, keep talking, impress him. "The kind that—that completely fills your RAM. You can't think through it. It destroys all higher rational thought." He entered the room where he'd been working on the Noisemaze, looked around for something other than the doorframe to focus on—there was the welder he'd discarded, he should pick it up—and tried not to think about whether offering Prowl this torture prison was any less evil than bombing civilians. At least a bomb was quick. (Evil, that was what it was—that was what he was, now—he'd done evil. He'd done evil for Prowl.)

"How painful."

"I can think of nothing more painful." He set the welder on a workbench, and climbed up the two-step pedestal so he could flip the switch on the side of the frame. A hum, and the shadows of the room were stirred with soft, moving turquoise and orange lights. "It's—unending torment. It skips straight past the more fragile vectors for pain—limbs, nerves, all of them are things that can be destroyed, turned off, or burned out. But the Noisemaze attacks your mind directly. It harms you through your senses without harming your senses. Nothing you can do will turn off or block the barrage except destroying your own senses, all of them—but the Noisemaze would leave your mind too addled and overloaded on pain to even think of such a thing." It wasn't the description he'd meant to go for, but he was fairly certain he'd left out any words that would make Prowl tetchy. Prowl didn't care how awful it sounded, as long as Mesothulas didn't imply that to do it was wrong.

Prowl ambled around it, examining the controls. "And it's finished, you say. You certainly showed initiative."

"Well—the hardware used to access it needs some refining—the prototype is practically held together with hot glue and scotch tape—but the Noisemaze itself, it'll hold together indefinitely." He leaned an elbow on the doorframe to gaze into the Noisemaze. The landscape shifted and the sky spun, and even with the thin membrane of the doorway separating him from the maze, watching it undulate and roil made him dizzy. How many would Prowl put in here? Maybe he could find a way later to steal it back. Once he and Ostaros were out of here—he could get Ostaros with one of the neutral populations fleeing the planet, he could join the Decepticons, use his inventing abilities and knowledge of Prowl for good—

He heard Prowl climbing the doorframe's pedestal, right behind him; and yet, he still flinched when Prowl's arms wrapped, slowly, gently, around his waist. "It's beautiful." Prowl's voice was a whisper; and his fingertips grazed across Mesothulas's stomach so softly, so tenderly, it almost made him cry. "The perfect prison for the Autobot Justice Division's needs. The ultimate tool for reform—destroy their mind and remake it."

Mesothulas's abdominal armor trembled under Prowl's touches, and the Noisemaze spun nauseatingly before his optics. Oh Prowl, love him, praise him, use him, keep holding him just like that. Mesothulas couldn't leave, he couldn't leave. He'd get Ostaros away and bear the punishment for it, but he couldn't leave. "Is—is th... I didn't think the AJD focused on reform? Just punishment?"

"We reform a few," Prowl said. "The few cogs that aren't too broken or too dull to be of use, but rather would help the Autobot machine tick more efficiently, if only the rough edges could be sanded smooth." One hand grazed Mesothulas's waist, leaving a path of tingling light in its wake as it languidly circled around to the small of his back. "The ones like you."

Mesothulas's spark froze. "Wha—?"

He tried to twist at the exact moment Prowl shoved him. He grabbed Prowl's gauntleted wrist. "Prowl!" He hung by one hand and the tip of one foot in reality; his other arm and leg wheeled wildly in the Noisemaze, trying to help him keep balance, but he couldn't even tell which direction he was spinning them. A dozen directions at once. Prowl's mask melted and twisted in front of his optics. "Please! Don't— I— Take me— Ostaros—"

"When you get out," it looked like the Autobrand had melted onto Prowl's face, like it moved and shifted with his words, like he spoke through its mouth, "I expect your head to be empty of everything except thoughts of obeying me. If your Noisemaze works as well as you say, that should be no problem."

"No, no, no no no no—" He managed to get his other hand back through the portal, and the tip of his other foot, and he grabbed Prowl's hand. Prowl's optics blazed bright, the same pink as Mesothulas's armor. (Was it still pink? He couldn't see himself anymore, he was turning black, only his hands and the tips of his feet still looked pink.) "Please." He squeezed Prowl's hand. "Please."

Prowl stared at him, even as the edges of his face started to fall apart. And then he squeezed Mesothulas's hand back. Hope surged. Was he reconsidering? He was going to pull Mesothulas back in, this had just been to scare him, he still had one more chance—

"When you get out, you're going to make me an army, Mesothulas. Just like Ostaros." With his free hand, Prowl unlatched his gauntlet. It slid off and Mesothulas tumbled into madness.

The lab was dusty; the lights were out. Everything that Prowl could find an off switch for had been shut down months ago; everything he couldn't, had been left to run or burn out. Something had exploded. A couple of wings of the lab were rubble, now. Radiation from outside leaked in through a destroyed wall. Prowl had sealed all the doors he could between here and there, but he still wouldn't dare so much as take off his rad suit's helmet inside the lab.

A second suit was settled against the wall, waiting for a passenger, as Prowl ascended the pedestal to the Noisemaze's doorframe. Six months was long enough. Mesothulas was ready to come back.

Prowl pulled the lever to open the door.

Nothing happened.

He turned it off, and back on. And again. And again, more forcefully. "No." He looked down, getting off the pedestal, dropping to his knees to check the power cables. He grabbed every point at which they connected and twisted them together, tight, making sure the connections were secure. He risked exposing a sliver of armor under one gauntlet so he could hold his wrist against the cable, checking to make sure he could detect a flowing EM field through it. He latched his gauntlet back in place, and walked up to the doorframe again, to flip the switch one more time.

Sparks flew from the frame. Prowl stumbled back as something popped, and smoke spewed from behind the switch. "No!" He waved the smoke away and stormed up to the frame again, flipping the switch over, and over, and over. "No, no, no—" his voice got louder with every word, "—give him back, give him back. This is incarceration, not an execution!"

Nothing. He waved an arm wildly through the doorframe, ducked through it, quickly examined the doorframe from the other side, circled around it, circled around it faster. "No! Dammit, he's—he's mine, he's—give him back! Give him back to me!" He grabbed the frame, shook it—the lever coughed out a sad puff of smoke—and he leaned through it again. "Mesothulas!" As though the Noisemaze was still right through the doorway. "Mesothulas!" As though he could reach him from here, if only he was loud enough.

There was silence in the abandoned lab.

Prowl's hand slid off the doorframe. He dropped to his knees in the middle of the dead portal to the Noisemaze, cradled his head in his hands, and rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

They say that the doorway in Petrex's room goes somewhere—or it would, if only somebody knew how to turn it on again. They say that it's a prison; they say he keeps something terrible locked away, and woe to anyone who's there when he unlocks it. They say that when Petrex sleeps on his doorway, hand pressed to its cement-and-rubble surface, sometimes something on the other side will scratch at it, desperate to get out; and sometimes, in his sleep, Petrex will scratch back.

They say many things about Petrex. A few of them are true.

Here's what they don't say about Petrex, but perhaps they should: he is icy, and hard, and unmovable, and implacable in public; but in private, he screams, he rages, he cackles, he dances, hot and explosive as a fire raging through a fuel refinery. You can see his optics behind his mask, wide and wild and red, but sometimes they're white-hot, and at those times his mask doesn't look icy but white-hot too. Here's what else they don't say: nobody has ever joined the Autobot Justice Division willingly; and most of those who join are criminals and turncoats that Petrex has reassigned to more important functions; but a few, a few are those who he has not chained to himself with invisible ununtrium links, but rather tied to himself with sinewy red threads. A few are those that he's loved too much to ever let escape.

Nobody says that about Petrex because nobody knows that he can feel love.

Petrex prefers it that way.

"What's the point of all this, Tarantulas."

Even when Prowl was on the ground and Tarantulas—what a stupid name, a grotesque alien name for an animal, a name that clattered and chattered against the back of Prowl's teeth, t-t-t—Tarantulas was pulled up high, huddling like a fearful creature against the wall—even at this range, Prowl had mastered the art of tilting his head just so, so that the way his mask framed his optics made it look like he was glaring down at Tarantulas. And he was glaring down at Tarantulas. Because no matter what a putrid beast he'd made of himself, no matter what a lowly bug he was now compared to Prowl, no matter all Prowl had achieved or all the power he'd amassed or all the soldiers at his beck and call—Autobot and Decepticon alike, now—the truth was, Tarantulas had blackmail, and Tarantulas had an invisible army, and Tarantulas had a prison in a pocket dimension where he'd trapped Prowl and where nobody knew how to find Prowl—and Prowl was terrified. And he would never, ever let Tarantulas know that.

"The point?" Tarantulas drew back, visibly surprised, and Prowl was pleased by his confusion even if he didn't understand it. "I—Isn't it obvious?"

"As obvious as you are pink." Tarantulas wasn't pink, anymore. He was black, all but for red biolights and the cotton candy pink on his feet and the filthy fuzzy tips of his new spidery limbs. Tarantulas flinched, looking down, self-consciously running a—it wasn't a hand, was it?—a hairy sausage over the black fur on one thigh, and Prowl made note of the insecurity to exploit later. "So what is this. Explain yourself."

"This is..." For a moment, Tarantulas wilted, visibly bewildered. "This is... what you asked me for."

Prowl stared at him, just as bewildered but much less visibly. "Explain more."

"You... you told me to empty my thoughts of everything, except obeying you." Tarantulas crept down the wall, his many legs squirming agitatedly. "You told me when I got out, I'd make you an army. And I—I have. I am."

Prowl stared at Tarantulas, as he lowered himself back to floor level. "You don't mean the Chimeracons. I thought they forced you to make their meat suits." The damage they'd left Tarantulas with was still visible, the melted and matted fur, the breaks in two of his spider legs. Of all the mysterious affairs surrounding Prowl's kidnapping, Prowl still couldn't figure out why, when Tarantulas commanded the Noisemaze and could shrink to the point of invisibility, he had put up with their abuses. Perhaps Prowl had trained him to tolerate too much. "They've already kidnapped me. They'd have tried to kill me if you hadn't intervened. What kind of army is that."

And once on the floor, Tarantulas kept lowering himself, kneeling at Prowl's feet. "I had to let them use me, to get the resources I needed to get close to you. They're irrelevant—they're only the start. Now that I've perfected the technology, I—I can pick up where I left off with Ostaros—y-you remember Ostaros, don't you?—just like you wanted. Making your army from scratch. Yours to do with as you please—overthrow the Prime, vanquish the Decepticons, reorder Cybertron to your specifications—all yours, Prowl. All of it. All—all of me." Prowl's ember leapt into his throat.

So he grabbed Tarantulas's. "Don't play with me."

Tarantulas flinched, but he didn't even try to pull back. "I'm not." His voice was shaky—Prowl couldn't see the fear on his face, he didn't know how to make sense of his new features yet, but he could hear it. "I'm not, I would never. I—Prowl, you're—you're all I thought about in the Noisemaze. When I could think. I—I was wrong to challenge your orders. I'm sorry. You're everything to me. You're my muse, my inspiration, my life, I—I'm yours. Anything you want from me, it's yours."

Prowl stared at him. And swallowed hard, trying to put his ember back where it belonged. He squeezed tighter. Tarantulas's visor widened, but he didn't even grab at Prowl's hand.

"Anything."

"Anything," Tarantulas whispered. It was the most beautiful word Prowl had ever heard.

And funny. Because Prowl remembered how it had been "anything" before, too—up until suddenly Mesothulas changed his mind, and then it wasn't.

Last time, Prowl had been too soft on Mesothulas—he'd liked him too much. He'd eased him into his new duties, slowly escalating the amount of energon he had to spill. That worked on most people. They'll commit any atrocity you ask for, as long as it's only just a little bit worse than the one before.

He wasn't making that mistake this time. While Tarantulas was still malleable, still vulnerable, still dizzy with adoration and desperate to regain Prowl's approval—Prowl had to make him do the worst thing he could imagine. Something so awful, that nothing else Tarantulas could possibly do would ever be worse.

"I do remember Ostaros." Prowl let go of Tarantulas's throat. Tarantulas swayed forward, following Prowl's hand, as though he wanted to be choked again. Pathetic. Gorgeous. "I took him with me. He's an Autobot now."

"He's—still alive?"

"He is. He's named Springer, now. 'Ostaros' was a stupid name." (Tarantulas flinched, gaze wavering, but he didn't argue.) "He'll be coming to rescue me as soon as he figures out where I am, I'm sure. You'll get to meet him."

Tarantulas's visor practically sparkled. "Oh! I—"

"When you do, you'll kill him."

Tarantulas stared at him. His strange rows of mandibles were frozen at irregular angles, as though he'd been caught with his mouth hanging open. "I... I don't understand, I..."

"I will not have divided loyalties." Prowl cupped Tarantulas's face in his hand, running a thumb along a ridge over his cheek. "If you're mine, then you're mine. No part of you will belong to anyone else."

Prowl could see the exact moment Tarantulas decided he would obey Prowl's order. It was the moment a light behind his visor died.

"... What does he look like, now." Tarantulas's voice was as hollow and toneless as Prowl's.

Prowl tilted his helm in just that right way to imply a smile. "I'm sure you'll know him when you see him."

The Noisemaze was falling apart. From Prowl's vantage point in Debris, he could see it convulsing and collapsing on itself. With one hand, Prowl stroked Tarantulas's head, as Tarantulas sobbed brokenly. Tarantulas's arms were flung around Prowl's waist, filthy claws clutching pitifully at whatever kibble he could latch onto, rocking back and forth as he wailed. Prowl had heard the wail of a grieving parent before, but never from a Cybertronian. He wondered if Tarantulas even counted as a Cybertronian now.

With his other hand, Prowl carried Springer's head.

Prowl was sorry for Tarantulas. He truly was. Prowl had always hated hurting him the most. But after this, everything else would come so much easier.

The Noisemaze was nothing but shreds and void by the time Tarantulas's sobs grew silent and his convulsions reduced to mere trembling. Only then did Prowl speak.

"Welcome to the AJD."

Tarantulas was silent.

After a long moment, he said, hoarsely, "I—w-we... we're named for our hometowns, aren't we? In the AJD. I... I was... truly... truly born in the Noisemaze, s-so... so, I guess..."

"No," Prowl said. "No, people get names. You're no longer a person. You've turned yourself into a beast."

Tarantulas didn't even wince. Something in Prowl shuddered at it—had he gone too far?—but he consoled himself: maybe Tarantulas was beyond pain, now. Everything would be easier from here on. Everything would be easier.

After another long silence, Tarantulas asked, "Then... what...? What's my...?"

Prowl rubbed a thumb affectionately over one of his horns. "You're my Pet."

Now, they say there's a monster in Petrex's private quarters that lives under his berth.

It's as black as Terminus's gaping maw and has just as many fangs, and it's just as likely to kill you. It's a freak that used to be Cybertronian, but now it's made of meat and metal, the metal rotting the meat and the meat rusting the metal, and it shambles around in the dark on too many legs, and it climbs the walls and ceiling and nests in the corners like a ghost trapped in the room where it died, trying to get free.

They say that Petrex can love; but his love is cruel, and cold, and it will suck the life out of you and leave you a husk of the mech you used to be before you caught his fevered gaze.

They say that when he finds somebody he wants, he chains them to himself with invisible ununtrium links, or ties them to himself with sinewy red threads, or, in one special case, webs them to him with sticky white silk.

They say that Petrex sleeps on a doorway, filled in with cement—a door that doesn't go anywhere. He presses his hand to it when he sleeps.

Sometimes, something scratches on the door from underneath.

Also on AO3.

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#prowl #tarantulas #transformers #maccadam #shattered glass #prowlrantulas #my writing #tfspeedwriting

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