#i mean… these bots have seen a lot

[gtraccoon]

i literally didn’t want to post this but i need a better place to archive my writing outside of my notes app. and hey, maybe someone wants to see me write about this:

so one of my favorite concepts of TF that isn’t read into enough in my opinion is the pure amount of trauma these bots would have from the war. especially bee. bro knows nothing but fighting and working. in this au, the war is over, but he still has some problems he needs to work out, and some fear he needs to get over.

some extra background background :3

Humans are seen as luxury items, especially now since it’s taboo to kidnap them. If one warms up to a Cybertronian, they’ll never get over it.. they’re like able, to a species as fragile and afraid as a human. what’s not to brag about with that?? also, a very traumatized bumblebee

y/n= your name

y/a=your age

gender neutral reader

You wake up. Silence. Which is weird, because in this place, everything is always making noise. You swing your feet over the side of your bed, leaning and grabbing a hairbrush off of your nightstand to fix… that.

You think. Is it even worth it getting up today? You’re going to experience near death, then be pampered until you feel like a doll. Is it even—

You shiver at the cold, snapping back to reality; exhaling and dropping the brush back on your bed. You lean forward, your feet pressing gently against the concrete floor of the base. It’s cold, so you go up onto your tip-toes on instinct, bouncing around over to the door to your room. The Autobots had installed a sort of cat-door for you, though it’s just a hole in the wall with some tinsel to make it fun to walk through. The doors that are motion detected won’t detect you, so an accommodation was necessary… at least that’s what Optimus said. And decoration was just as needed, Bee insisted.

You’re not complaining, though. Having a little color in the base is nice, especially since you’re not aloud to leave and see the real world.

Bots and cons don’t necessarily live in harmony. They still dislike each other, but in the way scholars do. They’ll one up each other, not brawl it out. And since having a human is such a prestigious thing, they’re nearly consistently trying to insist you pick a side so that one can be ‘better’. Atleast enough to have their own person.

You don’t mind the cons. They’ve got work to do.. but they’re fun.

And you don’t mind the bots. They’re a lot sometimes, in whichever way that may be. But the two teams balance eachother out, and you like both. You can’t bring yourself to choose one.

So now you’re stuck with split-custody.

“Bee?” You call, reaching the wall leading to his room. You press your hands against the door, searching for the detector, when suddenly the two panels slide apart.

Revealing a gun in your face.

You shriek, and so does he, both backing up simultaneously, ending with you on your back and him still holding the damn thing up at you.

You fall silent. Bee scans you for a moment, before transforming his weapon back into a servo.

“Uh..”

“Bee, what the fuck was that?”

“Sorry, y/n—I’m sorry. I don’t know what I… I mistook you as… I’m sorry.” You don’t reply for a moment, furrowing your brows and sitting up on the ground. “…Did you think I was going to hurt you?”

Yeah.

“No. ‘Course not.”

This guy’s trauma is going to get me killed, you thought to yourself, standing up and rubbing your back. He’s grabbed you before, but he’s never pointed anything at you.

“Okay. Good. Because—“

“‘Because you’d never even potentially think of doing something like that in the entire world. Wait, no, galaxy. Wait, no, universe.’ I know, man. You say it every time.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” he pouted. “You make it sound like I do this a lot.”

“You do do this a lot.” He giggled, then frowned again. “Bee. Are there any robot therapists? Cuz I think you need one.”

He blinked.

“Why can’t you be my ‘therapist’?”

“Because I’m y/a. I don’t have a degree in that… and I also don’t even know what you’re saying half the time.” You explain. He shrugged, just standing up a little further.

“Fair…. enough. Also, Optimus wants to talk to you.” You raise an eyebrow, then frown, turning on your heels. Might as well get this lecture over with. Optimus is fine, but he’s strict. Acts like you’re a little kid. Something wraps around your waist, lifting you up above the ground. You’re turned around, face to face with that scrap-eating grin.

“He didn’t say when.” Bee wrapped his hand around little further around you, comforting.

You scowl.

“Mariokart, y/n.”

Then you smile. The lecture can wait.

[transingthoseformers]

How immensely funny would it be, though, if we did a "mash up of the universes" situation and stuck the SG autobots with the baseline autobots and the SG decepticons with the baseline decepticons for a while

[mewhenifreakit]

curled up by the fire, tail waggin

[omgthatdress]

Sooooo ummmmmmm this is something that's probably going to piss a lot of people off, but I feel like I really need to say it.

If you get a message from an account claiming to be a Palestinian fundraiser, it is a bot. It is a scam. You need to report & delete the message and encourage others to do the same.

I know because I get messages on this account DAILY. I have a very high follower count and I'm pretty active and I interact with my followers a lot, and apparently that all adds up to one big bot magnet.

Bots following and messaging this account was a MASSIVE problem before Tumblr fixed its new account policies. I used to spend literally hours blocking and reporting the hundreds of bots that I would get following me each day.

I learned a lot about bots and how to identify them. The easiest way is with no avatar, "untitled" in the blog description (BTW if your avatar is still set to default PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD change it because you run a substantial risk of being accidentally blocked & reported as a bot).

One of the dead give aways of a bot was what I call "word salad" names. Three seemingly random words strung together making no sense, always adjective, adjective or noun, noun. If you reported a lot of these bots, you'd notice the same words kept showing up.

Nowadays, I am bombarded with fundraiser requests and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide the fact that they're a bot. The avatar is default, the blog title is "untitled," and the blog name is a classic randomly-generated word salad.

However MOST of the requests I get come from at least semi-legit looking accounts. There are pictures, a name, a story. Never mind that I've gotten that message three times from different accounts.

Sometimes, they claim to be vetted, but the whole vetting system essentially adds up to "trust me bro." There is no way of guaranteeing that this account isn't just lying about being vetted, claiming to be vetted by a false person, or are using the identity of a real Palestinian to scam people.

Previously, I've seen a lot of people getting attacked for raising questions about these fundraisers and getting attacked for being racist or for harming Palestinian families in danger, like Tumblr isn't a website famous for its scams and the words "The Arkh Project" "All or Nothing" or "Miss Officer and Mr. Truffles" mean nothing to you.

I personally have been scammed by people claiming to be charities on Tumblr before, specifically, The Leelah Project which used the name of a trans teenager who died by suicide to swindle people out of their money.

Luckily, there are actual, respected charities out there you can give money to if you want to help the cause:

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

Palestine Red Crescent Society

United Nations Relief Works Agency

Islamic Relief

World Central Kitchen

Médecins Sans Frontièrs

One of the hardest things to accept about the situation in Palestine is that realistically, there is very little that your average outsider can do to change it. However, these large, well-respected and trustworthy charities are out there doing the hard work to keep people alive, and should be where the donation money is going

These scam bots feed on people's naïvety and need to believe that they are making a difference, and even worse, feed on the fear that by ignoring them, it somehow makes you a racist doing direct harm to a refugee family, when in fact they are using the suffering of Palestinians to take away money from those in need.

As far as fundraisers that don't send out random asks for donations, I honestly don't know. You'll have to do the work yourself and approach with much caution.

Be careful out there.

[ultimateempath]

Help Wanted 2: Sun's Behaviour

So I've seen a lot of ya'll discussing Sun's mean and sassy behaviour in the arts & crafts minigame, so i want to point something out: Sun and Moon were not originally in the daycare.

According to Tales from the Pizzaplex, the daycare attendant was originally a theater bot! They were eventually repurposed for the daycare, though we have little to no information about when or why this happened.

Suns behavior makes a lot more sense with this is mind. They were supposed to be a performer, not a caretaker! It's no surprise that they'd act this way when they weren't made for childcare in the first place! Sure they could've been reprogrammed, but we all know that fazbear entertainment employees absolutely suck at their jobs and likely didn't do it properly.

In conclusion: no matter how good they may have gotten at childcare, Sun is still a nitpicky, passive-aggressive, perfectionist performer at heart.

[sillylotrpolls]

(Credit and a truly absurd amount of context below the poll in case you don't know who the Old Took is.)

Today's poll looks at a question posed by @sindar-princeling:

Bilbo barely passed Old Took's record lifespan after having a supernaturally-life-extending ring for 60 years. which begs a question. what the hell did Old Took do

In the notes on that post, the most popular theory by far was espoused by @mitsuhachiinthehive, who posited that Gandalf hooked up with a hobbit at some point and [some of] the Tooks are his descendants. This idea was further spread thanks to @the-haiku-bot.

Additional theories which I cribbed for poll options:

The diamond cufflinks were magical in more ways than one @elodieunderglass

He drank an ent-draught courtesy of the missing ent wives @betterofflost

He got hold of a random magic elven ring @morgulscribe

If you would like some a lot of context from canon so you can decide for yourself, more information about the Old Took is beneath the cut.

First off, it's established multiple times in the books what a big deal it was for Bilbo to beat Old Took's record. From The Return of the King:

He opened his eyes and looked up as they came in. 'Hullo, hullo!' he said. 'So you've come back? And tomorrow's my birthday, too. How clever of you! Do you know, I shall be one hundred and twenty-nine? And in one year more, if I am spared, I shall equal the Old Took. I should like to beat him; but we shall see.' [...] Little Elanor was nearly six months old, and 1421 had passed to its autumn, when Frodo called Sam into the study. 'It will be Bilbo's Birthday on Thursday, Sam,' he said. 'And he will pass the Old Took. He will be a hundred and thirty-one!' 'So he will!' said Sam. 'He's a marvel!'

Here's a biography on the old hobbit from Tolkien Gateway:

After the death of his father in 1248, Gerontius became the twenty-sixth Thain of the Shire. He was a friend of Gandalf, who gave him a pair of magic diamond studs and performed firework tricks during Gerontius' midsummer-eve parties. Gerontius Took reached the impressive age of 130, which made him the oldest Hobbit until his grandson Bilbo Baggins celebrated his 131st Birthday. He also held the record of most offspring, until Samwise Gamgee bested him with Tom's birth in S.R. 1442.

And from Tolkien Gateway's page on the Took Family:

Tooks were mainly of Fallohide Hobbit stock, and had quite a reputation for unusual behavior (among other things being more adventurous than the other Hobbits), a quality not valued in the Shire. For this they would be seen as less respectable, but those traits were "tolerated" thanks to their large numbers and wealth. An absurd legend among other families, was that one of the Took ancestors married a fairy. The Wizard Gandalf was a known, if disreputable, associate.

Here we have Gandalf introducing himself to Bilbo in The Hobbit. Note that Belladonna Took is one of the Old Took's 12 (!!) children.

“Yes, yes, my dear sir—and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don’t remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took’s son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!” “Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows’ sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer’s Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!” You will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers. “Dear me!” he went on. “Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures? Anything from climbing trees to visiting elves—or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter—I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business.” “Where else should I be?” said the wizard. “All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, and that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grandfather Took’s sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for.”

And for context, Sam was 102 when he sailed West, Merry was at least 103 and almost certainly older when he died, and Pippin at least 95. The uncertainty is because Tolkien describes their last years thus in the Appendices:

1484 In the spring of the year a message came from Rohan to Buckland that King Éomer wished to see Master Holdwine once again. Meriadoc was then old (102) but still hale. He took counsel with his friend the Thain [Pippin], and soon after they handed over their goods and offices to their sons and rode away over the Sam Ford, and they were not seen again in the Shire. It was heard after that Master Meriadoc came to Edoras and was with King Éomer before he died in that autumn. Then he and Thain Peregrin went to Gondor and passed what short years were left to them in that realm, until they died and were laid in Rath Dínen among the great of Gondor. 1541 In this year on March 1st came at last the Passing of King Elessar. It is said that the beds of Meriadoc and Peregrin were set beside the bed of the great king. Then Legolas built a grey ship in Ithilien, and sailed down Anduin and so over Sea; and with him, it is said, went Gimli the Dwarf. And when that ship passed an end was come in the Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring.

[zarla-s]

I figured I might as well make a second post with bot news since the other one was getting kind of long, haha. Anyway, if you're just tuning in, the situation is that Team Fortress 2 was neglected for years and got infested with aimbots that made the game unplayable. Abruptly with no warning about two months ago, they all disappeared. Valve, the company that made TF2, finally got off their butt and did a lot of work banning and deleting the bothosters, enough so that it's been botfree for way longer than anyone expected! That doesn't mean they're gone forever though, so I've been keeping an eye on things for when the shoe drops. Make sure to enjoy this bot-free period while it lasts! We don't know when they'll come back...

So, what's the news? There have been scattered reports of bots as usual, although one actually was accompanied with an actual video of a Sniperbot with the name killtf2 doing annoying bot things, which is a bit worrying, but it was only one bot. I also saw a vid of a Widowmaker spinning just like the aimbot Snipers do. Maybe that's always been a thing in Overwatch, I don't know, but it's the first time I saw it and it definitely reminds me of the TF2 bots.

The oddest thing so far have been fake servers masquerading as well-known community servers that are filled with aimbots. One such set of servers is skial, so the bothosters set up their own fake skial servers to trick people into joining, where they're running a bunch of aimbots. Presumably this is to test any new botting software they have, or try to figure out exactly how Valve is detecting them so they can get around it. Whatever the reason, it's not good. There are a whole bunch of them in the video acting just like the old ones used to act. This is in a community server, so there's less oversight from Valve about what goes on in there, but either way, don't like it! Do not like it!!

I've still been checking in-game every now and then and haven't seen any bots, and no one I asked has seen any either, but I'm wary... how long can the defenses hold out...

[justaaveragereader]

Slashtober🔪||SilenceOfTheLambs!Wooyoung

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: DARK THEME, Switch!Wooyoung, Bi!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, Biting, Marking, Unprotected Sex, Spit, Dirty Talk LOTS of it, Restraining, Clit Play, Psychological Play, Talks Of Cannibalism, Brief Sub!Mingi, Brief Bi!Mingi, Slight Degradation, Breast Play, Humiliation, Nipple Play, Slight Blood (Wooyoung Grips The Reader and Slightly Cuts The Skin), Slight Exhibitionism, Small Voyeurism…If I Missed Anything…Lemme Know👀👀

Slashtober 24’ Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT MDNI!!!!

All Ageless, Blank, and Bot Looking Blogs Will Be Blocked.

“I’m here to see inmate 1117.” You say into the speaker, one hand gripping your briefcase the other tucked away in your pocket. The cold wind rushes its way past your skin, leaving a chill that runs through your body. Teeth practically chattering as you wait for the buzzer to go off before you can walk through the gates. The dark luminescent words glow through the gray sky, Hala Asylum.

As you step foot into the hallway, your fingertips numb with coldness, and nerves. It’s been a while since you have seen Wooyoung. The nerves consume you with each step you take. Last time you saw him was a bit over three months ago, you needed additional help with a case, and who better to ask the once well respected forensic psychiatrist. The security guards outside of the room look down at you. Very much well acquainted with your visits. Yunho gives you a small smile before telling you to stand with your arms out so he can scan you over with the metal detector wand.

“I was almost worried we had scared you away.” Yunho says while telling you to turn around so he can scan the back of you. That warm smile on his face, heats your body up a bit. It’s always exciting to see a familiar face.

“We scared her away? She’s literally going to meet up with a canni-.” Yunho hits Mingi in the stomach with the wand, causing him to crouch in pain. Letting out a wheezing noise he looks at Yunho with betrayal in his eyes. Turning around you look at the bent over man. Giving him a small smile before your eyes drift back over to Yunho.

“Sorry about him, he hasn’t had any dinner yet. He gets cranky.” Yunho whispers out, making you chuckle. Mingi stands up letting out a groan, trying to stand straight up, wincing as he goes back to his full height.

“Yea my poor empty stomach.” Mingi says sarcastically, eyes darting over to shoot Yunho a dirty look. You pick your briefcase off of the floor before getting buzzed into the room. The sound of the heavy door unlocking was something you would never get used to. Taking in a deep you clutch your briefcase a bit tighter. Nodding your head you walk in. Yunho reassures you that if you need anything to knock on the door twice, or shout for them. Knowing you wouldn’t need them you step foot into the cell. This wasn’t your first rodeo with Wooyoung, while he was a highly dangerous criminal, you knew he had a weak spot for you.

“It’s good to see you again.” He muffled out through his mask. His eyes immediately crinkle seeing you, it had been so long. You pause in the door before a tiny smile graces your face. Palms sweaty with nerves with each step you take.

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy.” You say, taking a seat right across from him. Placing your briefcase on the floor, you hold your hands at the table, wanting to warm up with him first before diving into the case.

“You are nervous.” He says matter of factly, not giving you time to question what he means, he follows up with..

“It’s been a little over 90 days since I saw you last, and you are riddled with nerves.” He says observing the way your chest breathes normally, you can’t let him see you sweat.

“Why do you think I’m nervous?”

Moving as forward as he can, the chains that were holding him to his chair restrict his movement. You can see the smile he has under the mask, you are positive he's flashing those pearly whites.

“I know you are nervous.” He says, before leaning back into his chair, chains clanking with each movement, the sound fills the empty room. The clock ticks with each passing second, you both are staring off at each other. Both of you refused to break eye contact, he loved to be bratty towards you.

“Are you done observing? Or would you like a couple more minutes?” You say, eyes not breaking from his fox eyes. Letting out a high pitched laugh he leans forward again, batting his eyelashes at you. Clearly unfazed you put your elbows on the table resting your hands under your chin, annoyed every second that passes.

“Okay!” He says outloud, attempting to toss his hands up before letting out a squeaky laugh.

“I’m done observing. I learned all I needed to know.” Sitting back in his chair once more he watches as you grab your briefcase, the scent of the leather fills his nose causing his face to scrunch, letting out a fake gagging noise you ignore his charade.

“You know we still have terms.” He says, watching your every movement . You shuffle through the papers, grabbing certain items out of certain folders. Watching your skilled fingers, he licks his lips before shifting his eyes back up to you.

“I didn’t forget Wooyoung.”

“You help me with cases, and I tell you things about myself, correct?” You look back up putting the folder on the table, hands locking as you watch him, eyes as void as an empty space, yet when he smiles light never reaches his eyes. He was an empty shell of information, his actions proved just how hollow he was. With times like these between you both, you always struggled with if he was sincere with you. If everything he said to you was the truth, for all you know he could be playing you just how he plays everyone else. Your gut always chose to disagree with that theory. Holding onto the small possibility that he could be being honest, and real with you.

As you pull open the case files you lay them out on the table. Going over certain details of the cases with Wooyoung getting his intel, truly his professional opinion of who the potential suspect could be as you had no leads on these particular cases. As 45 minutes tick by swiftly, the last 15 minutes are always spent talking about your and your personal life.

“Any love interest?” He asks, completely abandoning the folders on the table. You look up at him then up at the clock realizing you have 15 minutes left of the meeting with him. You let out a quiet chuckle. Gathering the papers in front of you before placing them back in the correct spots. Sitting back in your chair you shake your head no.

“Getting straight to the point today.” You say, cracking a small smile at him.

With a shrug of his shoulders he watches your figure, shoulders at alert, breathing trying to calm as you pick at small loose fabric around your wrists. He makes you nervous and not in the logical sense.

“You know me, these 15 minutes are precious.” As he continues to ask you questions the last couple of minutes fly by, as you begin to stand grabbing your briefcase. You give him one last glance before the big door opens. Yunhos smiling figure is on the other side.

“Have a successful time? He asks, stepping to the side so you could step out.

“A lovely time as always!” Wooyoung says, eyes swallowing your fleeing figure. Before you smile at Yunho, that smile was meant for Wooyoung and both men know it. Nodding your head you say your goodbyes to both guards before making your way down the hall. Yunho and Wooyoung lock eyes before Mingi walks in, grabbing the inmate and trailing him back to his cell. Humming out a small tune as Mingi walks him back to his cell. Yunho looks at the fleeing figures walking down the hall, locking up the heavy door. Before making his way back to the cell block he needs to be posted at, humming the same tune as Wooyoung.

~

The loud buzzer of the door alerts Wooyoung who looks up at your warm presence bless the cold room.

“Why hello Y/N.” His sentence comes out muffled due to the muzzle on his face. Your face is as clear as day making sure not to let him get the one up on you, that this talk is strictly business.

“You came back for another visit? So soon.” He says through a smile. Face brightening up with each move you make. Grabbing a folder you flick through it before placing photos on the table. You point to the pictures, making sure his attention lands on them.

Mingi rounds the corner, taking the mask off of Wooyoung. Who lets out a loud sigh at having his face free. As Mingi rounds the table he stops by your shoulder loudly whispering to you..

“He’s been acting up lately so we had to place the mask on him.” Leaving the room, he looks back at you once more. Giving you a thumbs up, you acknowledge he’s trying to give you a signal that if he’s needed to let him know by any means. As you take a seat you look at Wooyoung clearly not impressed by his antics. A giddy smile is on his lips as he lets out a small squeal. Happy that you are back so soon.

“Acting out?” You say, raising your eyebrow. Questioning why he was acting like such an ass.

“I was not acting out. I was simply doing what I do best.” He shrugs before leaning his body close to the table, trying to be as close to you as possible.

“Eating.”

Rather the room just caught a draft or the temperature dropped completely. Trying to contain your composure. You look at him unfazed by his childish antics. You pull out your briefcase, pulling out the files. Letting out a loud sigh, he begins to whine.

“You always wanna work, work, work. You never come up here because you wanna see me.” Cuffs clinking on the metal chair as he throws his tantrum. You stare at him, rolling your eyes as your hands still from grabbing the folders before placing them back. Letting out a sigh, you run a hand over your face. You watch as his features contort on his face. Nose sleek, and sharp. Eyes swirl with darkness, the mole on his face that you’ve always wanted to run your fingers across. He was gorgeous, in such a wicked way. Life is cruel, it must be if it makes a person like him this likeable. Makes sense why all his victims easily went with him, he was like a drug. You take him once, and you are hooked.

As you are midway through your daydreaming, you realize he’s stopped throwing his hissy fit for quite some time. Eyes examining you deep in thought, letting out a weak cough. You divert your eyes before you can mutter out a word he speaks..

“I find you beyond interesting.” He practically whispers..with a small head tilt, he smiles. Cuffs clinking against the metal with each movement he makes. Eyes scanning over your whole face, and figure, your body heats up at his observation of you. Fiddling with your hands, you had an odd attraction to Wooyoung. In another lifetime where he wasn’t a deranged psycho you had hoped that he would’ve wanted to settle down with you, had a life with you.

“You are soft, like a flower. Like a rose, it may sound cliche, I know.” He chuckles before continuing..

“Your stem, spiky, full of thrones, yet when you finally make it past all of that you get to the top. Beautiful, vibrant petals stem from such a character as yourself.” He lets out a small musical hum, which you guarantee you have heard before. As he continues to fill your head with sweet words, he beckons you over close to him. Like a foolish child, you beckon to calls coming from the pied piper. Wanting to feel your warm skin under his chained hands. You stop just short of him, looking down at his figure, head tilting back he beams his beautiful smile at you. Thoughtlessly you toss your leg over his own, seating yourself in his lap. With a small smile on his face he traces small patterns on your pants leg. Muttering to you how he can’t feel enough of your skin due to the clothing. You clutch the fabric of your pants, not too sure what to do in this situation. Your urges are different from what you would logically do. You know subconsciously that he’s in your head, strumming at the knowledge that he’s got you where he wants you. He’s got you in the same predicament he’s had his victims in, the power of knowledge is deadly especially when it comes to Jung Wooyoung.

Pants long gone on the floor while he nips at your skin, leaving small bruises behind. Nose brushing against the pulse point in your neck inhaling your scent every couple of seconds. His tongue rolls over the small bruises he’s left behind. Your panties drenched as he continues to mark you.

“Let me feel you..”he whispers into your ear, soft hands massaging the fat of your thigh. Your cunt clenches at the thought of him being inside you. He wants to feel you in more ways than one. He wants to feel you all over, he wants to be in you, he wants to be under you, and your skin. Thoughtlessly your hands graze over his shoulder, the silence between you both is so defining. The room is thick with need for each other. You try to hold onto any logical thoughts you have, weighing out the pros and cons of the situation. While logical is the winning pro, the cons sound way to delicious to pass up.

Opening your blouse you try to hurry and undo the buttons. You wind up pausing your movements temporarily as he begins to speak…

“Ah, Ah, Ah, slow down pretty. We aren’t in a rush.” He whispers out, palming his hard on. Thick member throbbing through his prison jumpsuit. His eyes grow darker watching as your fingertips begin to slowly pluck open the blouse. Your breast coming into sight, his eyes flutter. Growing hooded as your soft flesh comes into his eyesight. The soft plump flesh slightly spilling over your bra.

“You smell so good.” He muffles out, mouth full of your breast. One hand tweaks your pebbled nipple. Rolling it in between his thumb and pointer finger. The other holds your breast, mouthing at the soft flesh. As you move closer to him you move back, making your boob leave his mouth with a soft pop. His eyes grow dark as he watches you take off your remaining clothes, tossing them swiftly to the side. Keeping your heels on you, swinging your leg over his thighs. Firmly seating yourself on top of him. He moves his legs as much as he can. The chains clinking against the cold metal chair he’s seated in. You puff your breast out to him, letting your wet nipples bump his face. A small growl leaves his throat before he leans into your chest inhaling your scent once more, before he dives face first into the soft flesh. His one free hand coming up to give your breast a squeeze before pinching your nipple, hearing you squeal as he does such actions has his cock jumping through his jumpsuit. You tilt your head back at the sensation of him rubbing his cool tongue around your areolas. Nipping at the skin around your nipple, leaving small bruises on your flesh. Switching nipples he moves over to your other breast, inhaling as much of your breast as he can. His hot tongue flickers over the bud, with each lick he feels the stiffening bud harden even more under his tongue.

Letting out a loud moan he begins to suckle on it. With his eyes shut, he almost wishes milk would pour from you, so he could drink you down. His eyes flutter shut, as you bring your hand up running through his soft dark locks. Your pussy tingles with each small noise he makes. Almost as if this is more so a treat for the both of you. As you continue to run your fingers through his hair, you begin to rock your hips slightly, putting pressure over his twitching cock. A loud whimper leaves his throat. He continues his heavy breathing as he swaps between each nipple. You grab the back of his head, bumping your heads together. With even more of your breast in mouth he grinds his hips into your clothed cunt. You both are grinding into each other like you are in heat. The cool room begins to heat up, you both are panting. He nips at your nipple, making you let out a small moan, tilting your head back, your chest pushes more into his face. Groaning at your soft flesh, he sucks another mark into your breast, leaving small patterns on the delicate skin. He grips your hip tightly, jerking your body towards him. Nose practically suffocating on your skin. His hot tongue leaves your breast, running all over your warm fresh.

He begins to lap at your skin, your hands grip his shoulders tightly. Moaning his name quietly, trying your best to remain as quiet as possible. With him nipping at your skin, teeth grazing the tender flesh he leaves small bruises behind. His small teeth marks litter your body. Gripping his shoulders a bit tighter as he begins to jerk your hips rapidly back and forth against his throbbing member, you can feel him pulsate through his jumpsuit. Your hands quickly sprawled over his chest, undoing the buttons as quickly as possible.

He snickers quietly, nose coming up to brush against your jawline, inhaling your scent. The groan he lets out is almost as intoxicating as the way he handles you while being chained up. His hooded eyes watch you fiddle with the buttons, the snaps echoing in the room. As you undo the last button you take out his cock. Standing hard, and firm in your hand he lets out a moan, arching his back slightly. He hisses when you begin to pump him slowly, head falling back against the chair, slumping as far as his chains will let him. He watches you with dark eyes, never breaking eye contact.

“Go on..” he says softly, voice still as if he wasn’t just whimpering as he was suckling your breast. His body now slouching as if he was a king on a throne, and not a prisoner chained to a chair because he cannot be trusted to be let loose. He had everyone fooled, he was very clever. He was a trained psychiatrist who did their job perfectly, even in prison people would flock to him. Yet here you were on top of him, feeling like you were the one on the throne.

“You want it? Work for it.” He says pulling his hands up, showing you that they are chained and he can’t do much, or at least you thought. His gaze challenges you, not wanting to let up, you pull your panties to the side, your puffy lips thick with arousal. Letting out a happy sigh he hums that familiar tune once more.

“Look at her..” he practically purrs, voice going straight to your pussy. Shiny with sticky arousal you bite your lip, rubbing two fingers in your cunt. Letting him hear the squelching noises it makes, making sure to tap your swollen bud with each pass through.

“She’s looking like that for me.” He emphasizes, making sure that you knew that you were wet for him. That he was the one bringing you to such a pleasurable state, yet he was confined, not able to move much. The power he held over you was enough to fuel his ego, and his cock. A pretty thing like you panting like a bitch in heat in his lap. Leaking all over his jumpsuit. Your eyes constantly flicker back and forth between his smug face, and his throbbing cock in your hand that you are continuing to pump very slowly earning a hiss from him.

“Well go on pretty, let me make her feel good.” He purrs out once more. Voice making your eyes flutter, his voice sounded like a prayer that was being whispered in your ear. Nodding you sit up slightly, before rubbing his tip between your lips, coating him in your slick before lowering yourself onto him slowly. Back arching as you cunt stretches to accommodate his thickness. As you bottom out, rocking your hips slightly, feeling him snug against you g spot.

“Oh fuck..” you whisper out, hands clutching the shoulder fabric of the jumpsuit. Hiking his hips up, your body bucking up on top of him. You moan loudly, toes clenching in your shoes. That smirk on his face reappears, as he jolts his hips up in quick spurts, chains rattling loudly. His hips move like water, such fluidity as if he wasn’t being held down by metal. Your cunt squeezes on him as his hips snap into yours, a steady rhythm, the chains mixing with the noises of your sopping cunt like they are making their own song.

“You hear that?” He purrs, pulling your hips closer to him, your hands falling forward into his chest. Eyes heavy with pleasure..

“She’s singing for me right now.” He begins to hum along, joining the sounds your cunt and the chains were making. His hums aid in the tune, as if he was creating a song. Leaning your body back against the cold table, breast jiggling with each snap of his hips. Picking your hips up to match his powerful thrusts, he had the hips of a dancer, the fingers of a guitarist, and the mind of a psycho.

“Princess is finally going to do some work, huh?” He asks smirk gracing his pretty lips. Too high on his cock bullying its way inside of you to care you whimper out a small yes. His hands dig into the meat of your thigh, leaving crescent nail marks, fingers strong enough to leave bruises behind. He moves along your body almost as if he’s trying to brand you. You let out a loud whimper, positive that at this rate Mingi and Yunho are holding their ears to the door hearing everything that’s going on. With your upper body lax against the table he gets a full eye shot of your cunt swallowing his cock. Bubbles of arousal seep out as you continue to hike up and down him. Planting your feet on the sides of the chair, snugged under his flexing thighs. The glint in his eye is dangerous, eyes fixated on your bubbling cunt, oozing arousal down his cock. The thick vein on the underside throbs as you are still on top of his body, each deep breath you take feels like you are being lit on fire. Lungs burning with heavy desire. You watch him through hooded eyes, it’s like he knows when your eyes are on him. His own heavy eyes move from your cunt to your face, the light behind his darkness is vacant. He is void of anything, as hollow as any empty husk.

“Are you tired?” He asks with a tilt of his head, playful smirk dancing upon his pretty lips. Letting out a tick noise you lean forward making sure you have your footing correct. Your nose brushes his, taking in a deep breath he etches your scent into his brain. Heavy pants against his lips, while he looks at you through his lashes, that devious smirk never dropping almost as if he’s mocking you, taunting you. Before he has another smart remark you slam your hips down. A high pitch whine leaves his throat, his cuffed hands shooting up to grip your ankles. He needs any piece of your warm skin to help ground him, the softness underneath his fingertips helps bring him back to earth.

“Fu-fuck.” He stutters out, head bobbing back against the metal seat. Eyes darting back to where you and him are connected.

“Count your blessings that I’m being held down. Because if I wasn’t I’d have your bratty ass bent over this table.” He says continuing to stare at your cunt, as if he’s talking to your throbbing pussy. His dirty words make you let out a quiet moan, beginning to move your hips and up down his length.

“I’d shove my cock so deep inside of you, make sure to tire your pretty ass out.” His eyes flick up to look at you. Your body begins to heat with each sentence that leaves his vulgar mouth. You begin to pick up your pace, with his limited motions he wants to talk you through it as much as possible.

“Then when your legs give out from underneath you, I’d turn your pretty body over, and slam your body into a mating press. Making sure I’m deep in that pussy.” Your toes begin to curl into the chair. Hips moving the same speed as he’s talking to you.

“She is a talker, so I know she’d make such pretty sounds.” As he continues talking he remains holding eye contact with you. That warm fuzzy feeling begins to prick at your skin, eyebrows furring together you let out a weak moan, holding eye contact with him while his mouth ran was sex on its own. His intense gaze made the boldest of people cave under such a glare.

“She’s almost as sweet as your own pretty little voice. Look at her, gushing with excitement.” He groans out, eyes flickering down to your cunt. The arousal was beginning to foam around his cock, thick coats of cream paint the sides of him. Moving his hips slightly, matching your pace. One thrust in particular has you flipping forward on him. His hips move fluidly, as if he’s made of water. His hands grip your ankles, hunkering himself down so he can slide in and out of you. Placing your forehead on his own, you lock your hungry lips with him. Tongues dancing to the noises in the empty room.

“Fuck me Wooyoung, please fu-fuck me.”

You hiccup out, fingers curling around his dark locks. Making him let out a small whimper he kisses you again, tongue gliding across your bottom row of teeth before shoving his tongue down your throat. As his nails dig into your soft delicate skin you slam your hips down harsher.

“I’m almost there..” you whimper out, hanging against his lips as he begins to pick up speed, his eyes shut as he pants against your lips.

“Rub your clit for me.” He moans out against your lips, wishing he could let his hands roam free over your body. Moving your hand from his shoulder you harp at your throbbing bud, the contact of your warm finger has your toes instantly locking up on the chair. Thighs begin to shake as your orgasm is swiftly approaching. Wooyoung feels your release, your cunt, clenching and unclenching on him. Keeping his pace he goes harder at his thrusts making sure to brush your spongy spot with each stroke.

“That’s it baby..that’s it.” He groans in your lips before enveloping them in a kiss. White knuckling your skin, cutting it as he grips you tighter. Your blood gathers under his nails. The scent of iron hits his nose, the bloodlust courses through his veins. Letting a loud moan into your mouth he nips at your tongue, your thighs practically vibrating. You drop your body weight against him. Whining to him that you were going to cum.

“Yea..cum pretty girl.” He moans out, nails digging into your further. The sting of his nails has you yelping as he thrusts into you once more, you moan loudly into his mouth, tears pricking at your eyes as he stalls his hips, grinding slowly against that soft spot. As you reach your high Wooyoung continues to grind against your gspot, you howl as your orgasm tears through you, wetting Wooyoungs jumpsuit beneath you. Your body jerks, letting out pathetic whimpers as he continues to slowly grind into you. His hips eventually slow as you are over the peak of reaching your climax. Your body instantly falls slack against his chest. Your legs dangle off of the chair, the small cuts Wooyoung left into your skin are biting at your nerves. His cock still in your, throbbing continuously. Letting out a small whimper at the throbbing, it aids in overstimulating you. Chest rising and falling, your body feels as if you are floating in the clouds, mind blurred as you hear the doors behind to clink.

As your spent body is laid against Wooyoungs upper body. You hear the door opening, your naked backside on display for both guards. Wooyoung moves his head to the side cheerfully greeting both guards.

“Yunho! Mingi! Always nice to see you both!” His eyes crinkle as he smiles at them. Yunhos dark eyes flick to your body on top of Wooyoung who is still balls deep inside of you. The air draft from the door makes your body do a noticeable shiver. Wooyoungs lips kiss your ear lightly..

“I felt your filthy cunt clench on me, happy we got an audience?” He whispers into your ear, the room so small both men heard exactly what he whispered into your ear. Hiking his hips, you moan quietly, body exhausted. You were still slowly coming down from your high as you felt two arms come to wrap under each arm, pulling you off of WooYoungs cock, as they picked up your body your cunt squelches as you are being pulled off. Mingis face flushes at the noise, letting out a small squeal of his own. Wooyoung looks at Mingi who eyes up his wet cock, standing at attention. The new set of eyes on Wooyoung makes his cock twitch.

“Hold her Mingi.” As Yunho makes Mingi hold you up, he goes to shut the large door behind him. Forehead laying against the cool steel door.

“Battling with yourself there Jeong Yunho?” Wooyoung says, tilting his head to the side as if Yunho could see him.

“No.” Yunho replies, locking the steel door behind him before turning around. His body language completely changes , Mingi holds your spent body. While Yunho makes his way towards Wooyoung, undoing his restraints. The metal cuffs fall heavy against the cold floor.

“Yun-Yunho we aren’t supposed to rel-.” Mingis sentence gets cut as you let out a quiet laugh. Eyes flickering up in disbelief. You didn’t even think to put two and two together. Your small noise of surprise makes Wooyoungs cock twitch, the head leaking with pre cum. Mingis eyes darted everywhere in the room, to you, Wooyoungs cock, Yunhos looming figure.

“Don’t you get it?” You are questioning how Mingi could be so naive right now, trying your best to stand on your wobbly legs. Placing both of your hands down onto the table to stabilize yourself while Mingi still holds onto your body loosely.

“Almost shocked you didn’t realize sooner.” Wooyoung says, while tucking himself back into his jumpsuit, your cum staining the front. Keeping it unbuttoned Mingis eyes flicker to him once more before Wooyoung blows him a kiss. Straightening his back up as a blush coats his cheeks.

Man spreading on the chair, he tilts his head back to look at Yunho. Whose gaze falls upon Wooyoung, dark eyes making Wooyoung giggle before standing up and stretching.

“Yunho I don’t like this.” Mingi whispers out, trying to find comfort in his friend once more. Wooyoung makes his way slowly around the table, as Yunho makes his way around on the other side. Yunho takes your body, standing at the other side of the table. Bending your naked body over once more. Mingi watches his friends' actions and shifts in his spot. His own cock begins to harden in his pants. Wooyoung walks behind Mingi, hands rubbing small circles into the small of his back, before placing a hand on the middle of it, bending Mingi over slowly Wooyoung stands behind him. While there was a drastic height and size difference Wooyoung still held way more power over Mingi. Letting his body aimlessly bend over. He watches your focused gaze, as you lock eyes with him.

“You don’t like this but your cock is saying otherwise.” Wooyoung whispers into Mingis ear, hands brushing over his bricked member. Letting out a pathetic whimper, Mingi shifts his body while Wooyoung has a hand on the back of his neck in a firm grip.

“Was she good?” Yunho says, his voice hitting an octave that Mingi has never heard. His eyebrows raise confused as your eyes flutter while Yunhos large hands roam your naked body. Your cum dripping down your inner thighs. His hands still at the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart. Strings of cum stretch as he opens your legs further and further apart.

“Absolutely delicious.” Wooyoung purrs out replying to Yunho as his fingertips dance along Mingis body. Lowering his lips to Mingis ear he whispers just loud enough for everyone to hear..

“So delicious you could eat them all up.”

Taglist: @mingisprincesss @sanhwalvr @walkingtravesty97 @crazylittlebisexual @sheilogreen @ateezmakesmehappy @miyaluvvsyou @wisejudgedragonhairdo @star-wingz @ririnnie @ihaveaproblem98 @raindropsondragons @hongjoongsprincess @radskaddattle @suzukialice16 @a-tiny-thing @arilevenatz @multistanisms @demonlineswhore @dij-ology @yyaurii @sousydive @itza-meee @ana-stasssiaaa @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @yunyunrin @jjoongstar @kyeos4ng @peach-bearies @bitchwhytho @spooo00oky @hey-im-charisma @tearfulsparks78 @metalheadatiny @apriecotte @aurorajoye @lola-horore-553 @ayoo-bangtan @acetruepunk @tajannah-price1 @seungminsfavoritegirlll @monstacheol @pearltinyy

DO NOT REPOST.

[revelboo]

THE HOLIDAYS SPECIAL SHITPOST IS CANON??? Omg, and it’s not a one time thing, anybody can just watch it??? if its in idw does that mean the traveling mtmte can accidentally intercept it? Can anybody, not anybody but a bot, just yoink it? Neutrals just spreading it. Thinking about swindle, or somebody just sending off to different groups aside from the ones in earth. Overlord, Tarn, Kaon, the reason the decepticons lose the war is because theyre humanfraggers. But if it lands on anti-cybertronians hands it can be used for major propaganda :(

Yeah, I suppose it is now canon to the fics on the Masterlist under IDW/G1 🤣 I treat the ones under Lost Light as wholly separate. That little PSA is definitely not going to have the intended effect, though. There are a lot of lonely or just outright bored Cybertronians on both sides.

Everything Is Alright Pt 96

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Leaning his chin on a fist as you sit with your back to him on the other arm of his throne, he listens to you tell him about the wreck. About blundering into the middle of a fire fight between Starscream and the Autobots. About talking to him after he’d taken you and decided to keep you, asking him about his day and Megatron hears your voice soften with genuine affection. You talk about meeting Soundwave and the cassettes. Starscream’s failed attempt to free you giving him pause, because when has the Seeker ever cared for someone besides himself? But listening to you, it sounds like he’s learning to care. You leave out some things, he knows. Not mentioning how Star had claimed you. Or Soundwave. But finally you fall silent, little shoulders tense. And your story just leaves him more exhausted. Because he’s not sure what to do. Punishing Starscream will also punish Soundwave. And you.

• Behind you, Megatron is silent. For all you know, your story bored him so bad he fell into recharge. So it’s a surprise when he reaches and runs his servo against your side and you look up at him, those red optics staring at you. “You’re an incredible amount of trouble for being so small,” he mutters, chin still on his fist as the servo slides to tip your chin up. “But useful. That fool can’t act out for fear of you being harmed. He might be trained yet.” And he smiles down at you, that look making your skin prickle. Trained? “Don’t worry, I think you’ll enjoy helping.”

• “I’m not helping you make him miserable,” you say, pushing at his servo with warm little hands as your eyes narrow. That unexpected attitude sparking through him. He’s seen little glimpses of it amid the submissiveness, but usually you’re quick to hide it. To play at being docile. It makes him want to push to see how far you’ll bend before you lash out. And he’s curious despite himself. Remembering that little glimpse of you under the Seeker. The sounds.

• “I only want to reward good behavior,” he says, that smile becoming something wicked that makes you freeze. Because he’s not so scary or intimidating when he smiles, that severe face seeming younger, more open. Pushing away from his servos, you scowl at him, trying your hardest not to acknowledge that for a heartbeat you thought he was handsome. Absolutely not. “And you don’t really have any say in it, pet.”

• Stuck patrolling with Soundwave even though the communications officer isn’t at all suitable for this, Starscream knows it’s just so Soundwave can watch him. Make sure he’s not plotting and he hates it. Still needs to do more research and right now? He can’t even think about his plan or Soundwave will know. He has no doubt the other mech is eavesdropping in his mind. Spying. For Megatron. Frustrated, they walk their circuit looking for any sign of Autobots and coming up empty. The enemy quiet lately. And he almost wishes an Autobot would show up, someone to take his frustration out on. And even if he could plot, he’s too distracted with worry. Hates leaving you at Megatron’s mercy. He’s felt that mercy, bears the scars of it and you’re so small. So fragile.

• Feeling the Seeker’s thoughts seething almost out of control, Soundwave vents tiredly. Understands the worry, but he trusts Megatron. He’d tried pinging Rumble and Frenzy both and had only gotten a distracted ‘busy’ from Frenzy and a flicker of emotion he really doesn’t want to think too closely on. Almost sure both cassettes are busy with the same human Rumble had disappeared with. Hoping they don’t do anything too impulsive but also sure that they likely did. Neither had ever been great at thinking things through, preferring to act on impulse. Like you. Reaching for things you want no matter the consequences.

• Returning to base, Starscream heads for the bridge and his optics narrow to find no guards waiting today. Wings flaring, he strides inside and freezes. Hissing softly as Soundwave brushes past him and also stops. Because there’s Megatron sprawled on his throne, but he’s pulled a little table in front of him and you’re in the center of it in a nest of blankets, one draped around you so only your face is visible. It’s the embarrassed anger on your face that snares his attention. “If you hurt-”

• “Your little mate is fine. Just a bit put out. Did you patrol as I asked?” Megatron growls, cutting Starscream off. Sees the Seeker’s wings flick up, trembling with rage, but he sullenly nods. “Good. Claim your reward.” Flicking his servos at you as you stand, he growls softly. “The blanket?” Now you’re shooting him a sullen look, eyes narrowed as you let the blanket fall with your back to him. He can see enough, though. The delicate chains dangling from your wrists and throat, and the draped, sheer cloth that doesn’t even start to hide you. That covering had been a happy find amid the pile of soft things Starscream had for you and the look on your face when his Insecticons had fetched it to him along with the chain? That had been even better. Almost as amusing as leashing you and watching you change into your new covering while trying to keep yourself hidden from him. Those angry eyes doing things to him. “Mass displace and claim your reward.”

• Embarassed you look at Soundwave and Starscream. Soundwave frozen and Starscream’s optics are sliding over you hungrily despite how mad he looks. Part of him likes this, you think. Seeing you bound. It’s not like Megatron had touched you aside from attaching the chains about your wrists and throat. And there’s enough extra chain you’re not actually restricted, the chains looping up to the thin collar around your neck. Know it’s meant to mock you and infuriate Starscream and Soundwave. A punishment for them lying about you being a pet. Megatron trussing you up like a pet. A plaything. Soundwave moves first, hands on the table and lunging up as he mass displaces to drag you into his arms. Big hands running over you checking that you’re okay and reassuring himself. That concern taking the edge off your mortified anger. It’s not like Megatron hasn’t seen Starscream fucking you. Is the warlord playing chicken? Trying to shame Soundwave and Starscream for wanting you? Or does he just want to watch? “Star?”

• Soundwave’s hands are on your hips as you look back at him. Those chains making a silvery sound where they slide against Soundwave’s plating, your skin on full display through the sheer fabric you’re wearing. But he’s frozen trying to figure out the game. To humiliate him? To mock him? There’s an angle, but as you stare up at him he finds himself coming to you anyway. Mass displacing and reaching to touch you through the fabric. Pulling you back to him, Soundwave following with a soft growl. Aware of Megatron staring at him in challenge. Daring him. Ignoring the warlord, he brushes his mouth against your throat. “Are you okay?” Relaxing a tiny bit when you nod, soft hands touching his sides, running up his chassis. Tangling his servos in your hair, he pulls you into his arms. Growling when his arm bumps Soundwave, the communications officer’s hands on your hips so you’re pinned between them.

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[kitts-mechanix]

I just had a huge realisation yesterday and I wanted to share this after going through some pretty horrible stuff over the weekend: Something I've always asked myself ever since getting into G1 Transformers was "why do you like Starscream so much even though he's a narcissistic bully? Why are you, someone who is a victim of narcissistic abuse, taking comfort in a narcissistic character?" Well, I think I finally figured it out. Because Starscream is also a victim of that very same abuse. I mean, he's beaten, called names, bullied, unappreciated, abused, and put through the wringer…and he internalised all that abuse because he knew no other way. He had no one to turn to, and the few bots who did support him, he treated like dirt. Once he had that freedom and power, he abused it and became the very thing that abused him. I have no doubt he was always self-centred, selfish, had a huge ego, etc. before all that but honestly? I think Megatron's abuse caused him to turn out the way he did. I could have turned out that way and it's a little scary, some of the parallels I'm drawing with him.

@ichbinmeltdown wrote a great analysis on Starscream that I want to share here:

"Megatron was abusive as hell to Starscream. He treated him horribly, and I legitimately almost cried a few times watching it. There's an episode called Starscream's Brigade that introduces the Combaticons, and I think that perfectly demonstrates the cycle of abuse. The entire world is against Starscream at pretty much every turn throughout the series, but none more so than Megatron. Every word out of his speech synthesizer to Starscream is to berate him, and he's constantly throwing him around, beating him, even ripping out his speech synthesizer in a scene from a previous episode (Hoist Goes Hollywood, IIRC). His own teammates don't like him, and even his brothers- Skywarp and Thundercracker, going off of the idea they're brothers- just... allow Megatron to abuse him. (Not to get into headcanons here, but I personally believe that Megatron's abuse fractured the Elite Trine's family dynamic. They are still brothers and love each other, but they're all too afraid of Megatron to really... stand up for each other as they did in the past.) And Starscream seemed to just snap in this episode. He treated the Combaticons poorly, and even when teaming up with Shockwave, he subjected him to a lot of the same ridicule and torment that Megatron put him through. He failed to realize Shockwave was the one of the only bots who would give him a chance- and unfortunately lashed out at him, which ruined his chances of Shockwave ever being a true friend and ally to him. Once Starscream had finally gotten a taste of power and not being under another bot's boot, he too became the very thing that he lived in fear of. And that really is how the cycle goes- when you're finally free from abuse, it can be tempting to overcompensate and take back all the power you were robbed of, at any cost whatsoever. Starscream, like D16 in Transformers One, snapped up this opportunity."

And the sad thing is, I've seen this in real life and I've internalised some of the abuse I've dealt with too. I'm not proud of it. Like the Seeker Trine, my own family dynamic has been fractured by similar abuse. I know there's traces of narcissism in my behaviour too, and I'm NOT proud of it. Maybe this is why I can forgive Starscream for being a narc, because I can see a little bit of my own personality/attitude/behaviour in him. Maybe it's because I know where it came from, I get why he acts that way and it's not just random and out of the blue. Maybe it's because--and I know this is a bold statement--I don't think he would do some of the stuff my own family did to me (blah blah blah he's a fictional character).

I didn't mean for this to turn into a long rant, so

TLDR: I finally figured out that part of the reason I love and relate to Starscream so much despite him internalising some of the abuse I went through, is because he was the victim of that same abuse.

[brandwhorestarscream]

If d16 was carrying in the movie that could have saved him.

OOH I HAVE. THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS

Part 2 here, part 3 here, part 4 here!

Hear me out, ok. Sentinel Prime heavily, heavily advocates for chastity. He very publicly denounces casual intimacy, waxing poetic about how it's a very special thing that should only be shared with someone you truly love and trust. To give yourself away to a stranger in a one night stand or even casually to a friend is one of the greatest disservices one can do to themselves. Interfacing should only be done with your bonded mate. While it's certainly not illegal, their Prime's warm concern and insistence that they're all special and should be treated as such keeps a lot of mecha's panels closed. The vast majority of them are saving themselves for their conjunx endura.

Now, the real reason Sentinel doesn't want them having sex? He doesn't want them breeding. Specifically the lowest of society, he doesn't want his cogless servants sparking each other up and having babies with t-cogs. It would raise too many questions, and while he has no qualms about taking a newspark's cog out before they're presented to their parents, accidents happen. People slip up. Some sparklings come before their parents can get to a hospital. Some nutcases want home births because it's "more intimate and natural". Some just plain don't realize they're carrying until they start having contractions. Cogless bots popping out babies with cogs will only cause problems, so the best way to prevent such a thing is to convince them that chastity is their best option. Most of them die before they can find someone they want to be with forever, and even among those that do, they struggle to save up enough money for a bonding license. Keeping them repressed and chaste is just another means of his control.

Now, as for sweet D-16 >:) he practically worships Sentinel Prime. He has such blind adoration and trust in him. Orion adores him too, of course, but not quite on the same level. He doesn't look at Sentinel with the same stars in his optics, though certainly has boundless respect and admiration for him. When they're visited by the Prime post-Iacon 5000, they're invited up to his personal suite 👀

Consider: instead of getting immediately jumped by Darkwing, they actually do get escorted up there. It's grander than anything either of them have ever seen, a shining and spotless penthouse with a 360° view of the city, expensive chaises to lounge on and bottles of the finest, smoothest high grade, even a jacuzzi! Sentinel Prime meets them there, and, placing a gentle hand on each of their faces, purrs that he wants to reward them.

"I've never seen anything like what you two did today," D-16 whimpers at his praise, beaming sunshine, and Orion is awestruck. "Come... sit with me."

They follow their Prime obediently and he relaxes onto one of the lounges, pulling the two cute little miners down on either side of him. They talk--or rather, Sentinel talks and they hang onto his every word, each tucked under one of his arms and nestled close against his chassis--and eventually he pops a bottle of champagne and pours them each a glass. Neither Dee nor Orion have ever had such high quality energon before: it goes down thick and smooth and warm, sending a blast of heat through their little bodies that pool in their tummies and make them start to squirm and feel woozy. Sentinel prompts they drink the whole thing, each of them, and by the time they're done they're gasping and swaying. So strong! Too strong!

The Prime's huge blue servo slides onto D-16's face, admiring his dazed expression. His optics are flickering, shutters at their halfway point, and he's visibly flushed, mouth dropped open and pretty lips parted as he pants. Swaying gently back and forth like that, Sentinel can't resist. He leans down and kisses him, gentle but controlling, and D-16 makes an honest-to-Primes squealing noise.

As soon as Sentinel pulls back, Dee wavers and collapses back against the chaise, optics blown wide even as an uncontrollable smile splits his face. He starts giggling, covering his face and rocking back and forth as euphoria bubbles out of him in uncontrollable, adorable laughter. "Oh my stars-" he gushes. "Oh my stars omistars omistars wow...!" His first kiss has left him breathless and elated, barely able to speak, worship and the greatest joy imaginable shining in his optics.

Sentinel Prime has them, both of them, in his suite, over and over and over again. They're both virgins, have never touched another mech or been touched in turn, and their leader takes great revelry is breaking their seals. Fucking their tight little valves until they're wailing and cumming in his lap, sobbing in ecstasy into his neck, clumsily kissing at his plating and swearing that they adore him, they love him, please more, more, more! He frags them on the furniture, against the wall, on the floor, even in the hot tub. He has them both on their knees in front of him on the lounge, licking and sucking at his spike and pushing each other to lap up drops of his transfluid, asks them to use their mouths on each other while he watches. He even asks them to bear their sparks and they do: he doesn't share his own but he's glad to tease at theirs, and it reduces them to mewling little piles on the floor, twitching and rocking and moaning as they crash through overload after overload. Such beautiful little pets, so eager to please, he could definitely get used to having them around for awhile.

When their time comes to an end they've started to sober up, snuggled against his sides on one of the lounges, still whimpering and panting high on pleasure, excess charge making them woozy and giggly even though the high grade is nearly out of their systems. Airachnid arrives and doesn't even give them a passing glance, informing the Prime that it's time to depart. He sends them back to their home in the mines, promising to see them again soon, just as soon as he returns from his next crusade to the surface.

D-16 and Orion stumble home giggling and shoving each other, still adjusting their armor and poking at the paint transfers spattered all over them. They're euphoric, there's no other word for it, high as a kite on pleasure, on the knowledge that Sentinel Prime wanted them and they were able to satisfy him! No longer virgins and instead claimed by the Prime!

Their batchmates welcome them home with a cacophony of cheers and hugs and jostling--MINERS! In the RACE! Their very own brothers, in the Iacon 5000! And- wait, why are you two all wet...?

They weren't intending to tell everyone, but the way they look at each other and blush and start snickering and struggling to explain is telling enough. Ratchet is already approaching with a wrench to scold them, they know better than to let a moment of excitement cloud their judgement-

"Uh, w-well-"

"Sentinel Prime wanted to-"

"SENTINEL PRIME?!" The entire room screams out in shock at once, before the cheering resumes tenfold. Their batchmates got the attention of THE Sentinel Prime?! Sentinel Prime made love to their batchmates! A couple of miners got the attention and affection of their Prime! If they thought the Iacon 5000 was inspiring that's nothing compared to this: before you know it the entire sector is mining energon at a lightning fast pace and they've hit their quotas before shift is even a quarter of the way done.

Orion and D-16 happily get to work as well, eager to do their best so that when their dashing Prime returns to them, they can tell him about how hard they worked and how much energon they mined and how well everyone is going to eat because of them!

When Sentinel Prime suddenly returns and orders triple shifts, they're surprised. Very surprised. It's not like him at all! Pretty soon the miners are running on no sleep and little fuel, some are injured and being denied time for repair and seek medical treatment. And D-16, despite his best efforts, is starting to fall behind after several weeks of the brutal demands. He's getting dizzy which he attributes to the lack of recharge. His servos keep dropping things even when he's sure he has a tight grip on them. He's nauseous, all the time, and multiple times a shift stumbles away from the rest of his crew to gag and vomit in a corner of whatever energon vein they're currently working in. Orion tries to get him to slow down, to stop, because he's clearly sick and needs medical care, but Dee isn't willing to stop. "Sentinel Prime needs us, Pax! We can't stop now!"

It all comes to a head as they're dragging themselves out of a tunnel with a full load of raw energon to be refined. D-16 suddenly stumbles, clamping one servo over his mouth and running off to the side. Orion hurriedly follows him after making sure Ironhide and Jazz have got the minecart.

"Hey, easy, easy-" he comes to rub his back as his best friend bends over, servos braced on his knees and body already rolling with slow, threatening heaves. He moans that he doesn't want to, he's so sick of purging, it hurts, please Primus, not today! "C'mon, just, let it out. You'll feel better once it's out, Dee."

D-16 groans and hunches over further, arms wrapping around his middle. "No... Primes, please- hgk-!"

"OI!" A miserably familiar voice suddenly bellows behind them, and Orion's sympathetic expression drops to sheer annoyance. Oh, no. "YOU TWO! Whaddo you think you're doin'?!" Darkwing is storming up to them. "Sentinel Prime wants his energon, so GET BACK TO WORK!"

"Darkwing, please," for once Orion is polite, one servo still braced on his friend's back. "D-16's sick, he needs-"

"I don't CARE what you think he needs!" Their superior roars, grabbing them both by the shoulders and forcing then around to face him. "I said, get back to-"

Dee promptly hurls all over the slagger's pedes.

He can't hold it anymore, but he tries, clamping both servos over his mouth even as he purges again. Half-digested energon splashes through his fingers and sprays all over Darkwing's chassis, who roars in disgust and backpedals away from him. Dee crumples to his knees, gagging, both servos planted on the floor before he throws up one final time, emptying his already meager tanks and ejecting a puddle of digestive acid that burns at his throat. It dribbles out of the vents on his neck and nasal ridge, and he sobs. Primus, he feels so sick!

Darkwing's response, naturally, is to grab them both and throw them down to sublevel 50 😌 there they meet B-127, and the plot kicks off, though a bit later than before. They make it to the surface and set out to find the Matrix. The journey is significantly longer with D-16's condition, constantly having to stop so he can rest or purge. Orion, at one point, offers to carry him, and Dee is too miserable to protest. Let's Orion gently hoist him onto his back and promptly passes out with his helm on his shoulder. He's overly warm, Orion notices: feverish, surely a sign that he's getting worse. They need to find the Matrix, soon. Maybe it can help cure Dee's sickness! And if not, well, once energon flows again they won't have to mine, and D-16 will be able to see a doctor as soon as they get home. They'll get him the medicine he needs and he'll be just fine.

When they finally arrive at the Grave of the Primes, D-16 is in bad shape. Shaking like a rust rattler, dry heaving because there's nothing left in his systems to throw up, and very hot to the touch. Orion nor Elita nor B-127 have ever seen a mech in quite such a miserable state, and they're all very worried. Orion sits him down on a rock and tells him to rest, and D-16 just hunches over, helm between his knees and arms folded over his head, the epitome of misery. Whimpering softly and praying to the Primes to please, please, make it stop. Whatever this virus is that's tormenting him, please just make it stop!

Then, they find and awaken Alpha Trion.

The Prime notices Dee's condition. Immediately. He can see it, an invisible aura none but the divine can see: this young mech hosts a precious newspark inside of him. Before he tells them the story of what happened, he opts to examine the little one. He's so young, probably too young to be a carrier yet, but he's undeniably sparked. A few decacycles along.

He tells them what's going on, why D-16 is so grievously ill. "Your sparkling is starving," he tells him seriously. "You are not receiving enough donations. Their protoform is cannibalizing your body, that is the root of your sickness. Where... is the sire? He or she should be caring for your needs."

All four of them are staring at Alpha Trion with their mouths open. D-16 is carrying?! He's pregnant?! But who-

Elita one punches Orion in the face as hard as she can, sending him sprawling into the dirt with a cry of surprise. "OW! What the-"

"You slagger!" She plants one pede on his chassis and presses down til she hears metal creak and he goes 'ow ow ow!'. "It was you, I know it was you! Who else would be so dumb?! You got him sparked up and haven't been taking care of him?! You worthless deadbeat! I should rip your fragging denta out with pliers! One at a time! I should!"

"Omigosh, Dee," behind her, B-127's voice has gone airy and light in excitement. He comes up to the silver mech's side, grabbing his servo to squeeze. "Congrats, dude! You're gonna be a mom!"

D-16, for his part, is sat there in shock. Shoulders dropped and loose, mouth hanging open, staring at Alpha Trion with his optics so wide they're at liberty to pop right out of the sockets and need recalibrating. "I'm..." his voice is barely above a whisper, shaking servos drifting toward his tummy. "You mean- I'm-?!"

He's starting to smile, joy bubbling up in his chest. Excitement, too. And terror. And a million other things that he can't name because he's too shocked, but suddenly despite how sick he feels he can't help but start to laugh. Delight blooms in his chest and forces it's way out of his throat as he starts to giggle and chuckle, and before long he's doubled over holding his stomach and laughing with tears of joy streaming down his face.

"I'm- I'm having a-" he jumps up to run over to Orion, shooing Elita off of him and throwing his arms around his friend. "Pax I'm sparked! I- I can't wait to tell Sentinel, he's gonna be so excited!"

"Sentinel?" Alpha Trion's voice goes cold and harsh behind them.

"Yes! Oh- Oh yes, Sentinel Prime, he-"

"He is NO PRIME!" The old mech bellows, and all four of them turn to look at him in confusion. "He does not bear our name!"

"...WHAT?!"

The grand reveal is even more sour this time around. So, so much more sour. The betrayal runs so much deeper, and D-16 is horrified and sickened. Watching the mech he adores and admires so much bowing to the quintessons and giving away the energon that they worked so hard for. It was already bad, but now? Now, he's carrying that monster's offspring. A sparkling conceived under false pretenses, under coercion, under lies. This baby hadn't been created by love and mutual respect, it has been made by a mech that lied to their faces to get them into his bed, to get access to their bodies to use for his own pleasure however he saw fit.

D-16 feels disgusting. Violated. Worthless. He feels tricked and used and abused. He stares down at his body feeling more nausea already roiling in the deepest pits of his tanks. Sentinel had touched him everywhere. There's not a single inch of space anywhere that's clean of that mech's touch.

No one is surprised when he suddenly folds to his knees and screams. Screams with all the force of his anguish, his shattered trust, his broken and reviled body. Manic, he claws at his chassis with feverbright optics, wailing at them to, "Get it out of me...! GET IT OUT OF ME! I don't want it, I don't- I don't want it, GET IT OUT!"

Orion is at his side in an instant, yelping, "Dee, no! Stop, you'll hurt yourself!" As he forcibly grabs his friend's servos to stop him from tearing himself apart. D-16 shrieks a wordless noise of agony, and then collapses forward onto Orion to begin sobbing violently into his shoulder. Clutching onto him like a lifeline, wailing with all the devestated force he can. Bawling against Orion and falling to pieces, brokenly asking what he's going to do.

...

Ok im gonna cut this here cuz it's getting long, like really long and my hands are tired. I can barely move my left side today lmao. Poor poor Dee 😌 hope you enjoyed this nugget of angst! If ya'll wanna see a part 2, you know what to do. The box is open uwu

[venomous-qwille]

A very good one to start with, very curious about your thoughts:

🌒 - Do you prefer Sun & Moon to be separate animatronics or share the same body?

And

💬 - How would you describe this AU to a friend who wasn’t in the DCA fandom?

I'm also curious if you've ever been seen at work, working on your AU, has anyone questioned you and how did you explain (if at all)

Very in awe of GITM. You're an amazing artist.

Oooh so, I like both. In GITM I have some bots who are dual ai and others who aren't- I think that both options have their own unique narrative interest. My main preferred take is that 'canon' they are dual AI. There is lots of lore in GITM though about why they stopped making suns and moons in the same body! Gosh how would I describe gitm to a non DCA person ahaha... I've had to do this a bunch of times actually. How it usually goes is: Oh my story is a retro-future ghost story that fucks around with philosophy, death and robots and what it means for a machine to die, or like, how to find meaning in your life when you are living past your sell-by date. It follows a mechanic who is plagued by visions of the past while they fix a bunch of old entertainment robots. Sort of modern horror fantasy. Yeah. Yeah well people like it cause they want to kiss the robots. Yeah. Yeah no, I know its weird, yeah. No. It's probably not your sort of thing.

LMAO Ahh, the perils of professional concept work. I don't do any personal art on my work equipment because I dont ever want the company I work for to lay claim to any of the content I make </3 Same goes with google docs I'm afraid, no writing GITM on my lunch break :(

[lenniexprime]

I was wondering if you can write a Bumblebee(B-127) x Cybertronians!reader, where B-127 was staring at trash burning, and the reader fell out of the trash chute, and he saves the reader just in time before the reader went in the fire, and we help him build Steve?

AWHHH RAHHH I LOVE I LOVE HIMMM (I’m in my bumblebee onesie as we speak)

I LOVE ITTY IGHHFKDSKSKDKFKFKFIGIG

B-127 x cybertronian! Reader

Spoilers for Transformers One if you haven’t seen it. 

gnreader, mentions death, injuries, and angst, not edited.

"I don't want to go back up there, anyway..."

I listened to Chihiro and Ocean Eyes while making this lol.  

You were a miner. A very low-ranking miner. 

You had tried to be happy. Sometimes it didn't work.

You always ended up frowning, doing your job.

You had a [Preferred paint color] paint job and were always covered in scratches or dirt. It was rough. It was so rough. 

You were always tired, always looking pitiful. You didn’t know why you did. You were working towards saving Cybertron. 

You weren’t treated with much respect. You were always being taken advantage of. By anyone. The bots who worked aside you, your superiors, everyone. It seems cliche, but it does.

Doesn’t everyone get stepped on, especially in this environment? Well, you could argue yes, but it sure was damn different.  

You already had a dangerous job, and felt so invisible and treated with such disregard. You were by yourself, always by yourself. 

Sometimes, on little breaks, you thought to yourself. You thought to yourself a lot; Too much for a little ol’ bot with a low-ranked job. It was hard to find your reason in life and who you were. 

 Sometimes you’d question why you had no cog or were not of high rank. You’d question why you even had to mine for Energon anyway. Why were you always mining for it? It was hours on end.

No sleep sometimes. Barely, if you’re lucky. 

One day, you were working on putting packages and boxes together to send to the other bots to put on the transport.

You were leaning over the edge of the conveyor belt, even though you shouldn't have, to make sure some of the packages were sealed correctly. It is true that some slack and rush, and don't even check if it's right or corrected.

something had happened in which all the bots had to evacuate for something.

You tried getting up from leaning over the edge, but instead, you got shoved and pushed.

You had fallen in. It happened so fast. It's like you fell sideways but you went downward.

You or anybody else didn't have time to react. Did they even care? Probably not. Maybe some did.

You hit the side of your helm and it felt like you blacked out. You blacked out on what seemed like the conveyor belt to the...To the trash chute!?

You were barely even conscious. You really just look up and then close your eyes. You couldn't think much about anything. All of this happened too fast. You felt a cold liquid run down your face (do they even bleed? or. would I say leak?)

That's really beside the fact.

You did hear "Oh my primus," a couple times from the bots above you, but really it was kinda late to grab you or get anyone to save you.

Now to B now!

Bumblebee was simply watching trash. Trash that goes into the burner.

He didn't really get the point, but at least he could keep this assignment.

Sure he felt lonely, but again, it wasn't like he didn't fully enjoy his job. He could just hang by himself all day.

All B was was just a bot who was by himself a lot. All the time. No one even came down there.

Yeah, sometimes he wanted someone who he could talk to, or hang out with. It felt like hell. Maybe it was. I mean he did work near the trash burner on one of the lowest levels. It might as well be.

Even trying to be optimistic, he would find himself frowning at the trash like this.

( LMAO THIS POOR BABY)

Anyway, he really did try to stay as sane as he could.

when he heard a sound coming from the trash chute, he couldn't help but wonder what it could possibly be.

"Do they just send anything down here now?" he went.

"It can barely fit down the chute," he continued, getting closer to it.

Once whatever was in the chute got close to the end, it came down fast.

With a BANG, you fall on the conveyor belt, limp.

"Oh my Primus, it's another bot!" he said, quickly acting, pulling your limp frame off of the conveyor belt before you could reach the trash. He stopped the machine and placed you on the ground.

You look kinda conscious but definitely not responsive.

He took off his protective helmet and tried to figure out your situation.

"Are you alright?" He tries to speak to you.

All you could do was move your eyes. Little by little you realize you were on the ground.

"Do you need help?" He asked again, panicking, especially after realizing you had a cut or a bruise of some sort on your helm.

"Try getting up, maybe I could help you if you get Energon running through you again," he suggested.

You blink a couple times.

You try to recognize where you are. You couldn't Though, was that really the most of your worries. You fell into the conveyor belt and almost died for crying out loud.

You groan and put a servo on your helm as you get up slowly.

You rub your face plate and look back at it. Dirt, dust, and-- shit you're leaking.

You put your servo back and down and look around. Everything through your optics felt so saturated. It felt not normal. You hadn't even noticed the bot next to you, looking just as concerned for you as you were for yourself.

You could honestly care less about your surroundings or who this other bot was. At least for now. Not in a mean way. You just felt hurt. Your frame felt numb and so did your face plate.

"Y-you fell down the chute..." He began, looking at you.

You rubbed your helm a bit more and looked at him then at where you would've ended up if he didn't do anything.

"Thank you," you said simply.

"My pleasure," he replied.

"I'm guessing don't have many.. uhm options to get back up there..do I?" You asked.

He shook his helm.

"I could help you- with your injury that is. You seemed to have taken a really big fall," he said, grabbing something.

You guess you did. You barely remembered what had happened it had all gone down so quick.

You looked down. Maybe if you hadn't leaned over the edge, none of this would've happened. You were lucky to even still be online.

B looked at you, after grabbing a bandage. He saw you were upset. He couldn't blame you. Maybe you had it good up there.

"Hey, uhh, I never got your name--" He starts, trying to distract you.

You widened your eyes, getting ready to respond.

"Oh, it's Y/N," you began.

You look at him as he gives you the bandage, hoping he'll respond with his name back.

"Well, Y/N, I'm B-127, I work here at this very level...Just me..." he says smiling...Kinda.

You give a weak smile. He seemed sweet. And alone. Just like you.

"I worked as a low-rank miner who packaged boxes for transport," you go on. "Not so different from picking out valuable stuff from scrap, and watching trash." you finish.

"Looks like I'm stuck down here, but at least you seem cool," you say smiling a little more.

He smiles back sitting with you. He was pretty happy. You were a person he could talk to.

"At least we'll have one another," he says.

"It's better than what my life was up there." You say, thinking.

"I'd rather be down here than be up there," you continue.

After a couple of days, a bot couldn't tell if you guys had been friends all your life or if you guys met a couple days prior.

It was funny because, after about a month, you guys decided to build a buddy!

You decided to name him Steve :3

After building Steve, you had wanted to make a mask just like B's.

"I made a mask like yours, B. Isn't it hella badass? I got it from you," you laugh.

He definitely calls himself Badass after that

(that's where he got the name from!)

You both are glad you found each other when you guys did. You both needed it.

silly ahh alien LMAO

-Lena

[tuesziday]

Update: Tumblr has addressed this with a notice/warning, but now people are attacking it and calling staff heartless monsters or whatever for insinuating that someone could lie about being a victim of an active genocide

Update 2:

Went to the guide and noticed this quote people are overlooking—

We want to highlight, though, that these bad actors are very small drops in a sea of genuine posts and content. Not all requests and messages are scams—very few are when we investigate them. However, automated spamming and fraudulent links do occur, and we take strict action against these.

Tumblr Staff SHOULD be scrutinized and they have a rough history of mistreating minorities. There are more insidious things to call them out for. I think the scam warning is being blown out of proportion.

Is anyone else getting an onslaught of bots pretending to be Palestinians?

[animentality]

Dude I'm so confused

Why are the redditors refugees here-

Whats up with the tag 196

AND WHY IS EVERYONE BEING SO NICE WITH THE TWITTER REFUGEES CAME WE GAVE THEM HELL (almost)

The Reddit refugees are here because several subreddits have gone private in protest of reddit's new policy of charging third party developers for access to its API.

Hence the term reddit blackout.

196 specifically was a very queer friendly subreddit that had one rule: that you post before you leave. 196 is trending because those Redditors have come here and they're basically sharing their memery here instead as they protest reddit's greed.

As for why we're welcoming them when Twitter refugees were seen with a little more irritation, well.

Think of the culture similarities.

Tumblr and reddit have far more in common than Tumblr and Twitter.

Twitter is about clout and manipulating algorithms and discourse in 280 characters or less. It's about bad takes that reach the right people and it forces you to see things you don't want to see and it's crawling with the worst people imaginable and you're forced to see them, all the time. They also brought bad tagging and 2016 Tumblr discourse with them, because Twitter culture really involves starting fights for clout and braindead opinions that no one really wants to come back to Tumblr culture.

There was a time when Tumblr did the same thing, but worse, with more words...but nowadays, it's really calmed down.

The worst people...went to Twitter after the porn ban. Ironically, it made the site less toxic and hostile.

But then they came back.

And it was like...hm. no thanks. Stay back where you came from.

But Tumblr and Reddit have much more in common.

Both have a more streamlined way of customizing your online feed. You can choose what subreddits you see on your home screen, just like Tumblr only shows you the content of your followers, on your dashboard, and in chronological order rather than what's trending. You can join a very specific weird niche group of freaks with a shared obsession, and not care about the rest of the site at all. You also don't have a character limit on either site, which lets you ramble more and share weird detailed stories.

Reddit might have karma, but like Tumblr, the majority of people are lurkers and not posters. It also allows you to downvote bad opinions, and moderators who have to adhere to certain guidelines of behavior, which means a lot of banning disruptive people.

Granted, sometimes their mods are power hungry, but. You know.

It does more to control its users than Tumblr do, and that's a good thing in terms of keeping toxicity and illegal shit off its subs.

Reddit also has a way more leftwing attitude than you would think.

It has a reputation for being full of incels but I honestly think that's outdated.

It's cleaned up its act quite a bit since the old days.

I see way more vile shit from Twitter and TikTok. Like seriously.

Twitter is crawling with conservative bots and propaganda machines and just outright inflammatory lies. TikTok literally has the worst comment sections I've ever seen, like edgy teenagers cracking racist and misogynistic humor and acting like it makes them different and special. Its algorithm also spoon feeds you garbage and is designed to be as addicting as possible.

At least reddit's culture, while chauvinistic and regressive in certain subcultures, is mostly on the tech positive, atheist libertarian side.

It can be a little pretentious and caustic about certain subjects, and a little full of itself. Some reddits are also very male leaning and disregard female concerns in favor of moaning about how men have it worse than anyone else on earth.

But for the most part?

...well.

I welcome them here, because if they left reddit in protest, then we always support protests. But 196 specifically is also a queer subreddit, and we support that even more.

Plus they're funny as fuck.

What's not to like, really?

You should welcome them with open arms too.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eleven.

[ten] [eleven] [twelve]

faithful to its nature, its power never diminished.

Arms wrap around you sweetly, you lean into it. Wanting nothing more but to stay in the moment. “you’re so pretty.” And you look over to see Viktor. You smile, going in to place a kiss on his lips. It was perfect. The room was dark, only dimly lit by the laptop screen that played…

That played um… What is it playing? You pull away from the kiss, to look over at the device that was beginning to look weird. “What the-” “[Name]?” You look back over to Viktor who was now replaced by Powder. Your best friend. You furrow your eyebrows, slightly in disgust. You blink a few times.

“What?” You rasp and you hear Powder laugh, her arm rested on your waist as the two of you lay together on your bed watching a show. “Dude, you passed out.” She announces. “We’ve only watched one episode.” She tells you and you scrunch your face. Trying to register what was happening. “Sorry.” 

She raises a brow at you. “Have a nightmare or something?” Powder sits up, her arm going back to her own side. You frown momentarily at the loss of her warmth. “No, I- it was stupid.” You shrug your shoulders, sitting up as well. Staring down at your fingers as your face grows flustered. “Tell me about it.” 

You think back to the short, painfully short dream. “It was about Viktor. For the hundredth time.” You sigh, annoyed with your own brain. Creating such imagery in your own head that you now have to think about when you’re conscious. “Mm, not surprised.” Powder huffs out a laugh, leaning into you as she also pauses the show. “Thanks.” You scoff, sliding off the bed to stretch out your limbs. 

“No problem, but seriously I have a question.” Your best friend follows suit, jumping on the ground. Surely to give you guys another complaint by the people underneath you. “What?” You ask, heading over to your desk, plopping down on the rolly chair.

“Do you love him or something?” The question catches you off guard and your eyes almost pop out of your own head. “Love?” You repeat.

“Yeah, if I’m wrong you can tell me but I only ask because this is like a heartbreak [Name]. I’ve never seen you this… disheveled over any break ups you’ve had.” Powder explains her reasoning. 

And thinking back to it, she’s right. With your past relationships, that was official, you’ve never really given it another thought when it ended. It was over and yeah you were sad for a little bit but this is different.

Your chest ached with the mention of Viktor. In most dreams there he existed, holding and loving you, and each time you pleaded it was real when you wake up. Only to be left with the harsh reality that you ruined that chance of being tangible.

You beat yourself up every second you're alone. 

“I don’t know. It had only been two-three weeks of getting to know one another. I feel love is a strong word for that.” You tell her truthfully. “Did you love him when he was your online friend?” She inquires and your eyes travel over to your phone. “I had love for him. He was a close friend but can you fall in love with someone you technically never met?” You question, it was something you asked yourself quite a lot. Did you love Ma? Could you fall for someone you never saw face to face. Was that possible? And if it was, is it pathetic? 

“I think so, I mean you know who he is now. Is the feeling the same for both?” 

“Why are you interrogating me?” You ignore the last sentence, now feeling on edge on how deep this was getting. “Just curious.” She hums. “I don’t know the answer.” And truthfully you didn’t. 

Love? You don’t even know if you’ve ever truly loved someone. As time passed you believed you weren’t capable of loving someone more than a friend. With your exes it never felt right. In those relationships you were honestly miserable. No motivation, putting on a mask, and not being true to yourself. 

You couldn’t enjoy your interests. Your art is forgotten about.

With Ma… or Viktor. Both. That never happened. If anything you were more motivated.

In high school you stayed up until ungodly hours, painting, sketching out sculptures based on the sound of Ma’s voice. The colors you saw, the feelings you felt all put into your art. 

Specifically the crowd paintings you created. Crowds of people. Crowds of familiar faces but not the one you wanted to see. A face that you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet blurred out but facing you in each painting. Only one figure that stood there, staring back at you. No features attainable to recognize.

And you hated it. You wanted to know who it was.

“Wonderful ideas, wonderful models. I don’t think I’ve had such intelligent and creative students as I do this year. Take this time to inspect others' projects and mingle with one another.” Your biology professor tells the class, everyone of you standing up to his directions. 

Viktor and you stick together, unintentionally throughout the room. No words said between either of you.

You admire your fellow classmates' work, clicking through the slides on each laptop. Reading thoroughly through their slides. Silently gushing at the way they decorated their boards. Viktor observes you the entire time. 

The words of his friends stick in his mind. You don’t entirely seem upset? But if they had seen it themselves, surely they’re not lying to him. His eyes scanned your face closely. A hardened gaze, his jaw clenching subconsciously.

Did he want to see you upset? Why would he want that? To know you’re hurting just as much as he is? Would he wish that pain on someone he lo- he respects? 

No, he wouldn’t.

You look back at him with a polite smile. “Right?” His eyebrows furrow, confused. “What?” He asks hesitantly, his cheeks fell warm as he is put on the spot by you. You snicker. “I said, their work is so organized, maybe the two of you would hit it off.” You repeat, your breath now caught in your throat. Wondering if that was too friendly too soon. He glances over to the people’s work. 

It had no color, monotonous and tidy. Is that what you think of him? Bland, tasteless and… boring? 

His head bows down, a ghost of a nod. “Sure.” He dryly replies, unfortunately feeding into your worries. “Did I say something wrong?” You quietly inquire as you guys head to the next board. A clique of students pushing past you. 

“No?” He averts your eye contact. Was he actually upset that you think of him like that? 

“Oh.” You puff out your cheeks, not knowing what else to say.

The voices of others cover the awkward beats of silence between the two of you.

“Am I that mundane to you?” He was almost inaudible when he asked the sudden question. You cock your head to the side. Your mouth opens to answer but he lets out a scoff shaking his head.

“Don’t answer that.” He walks ahead of you. 

Mundane? Why would he think that? You pointed out the person’s tidiness because of how put together Viktor is. You admired that.

He preferred things a certain way, his room showed that. He still had a personality outside of that. His energy drew you in. The way he held himself, the enigmatic essence but also the familiarity you felt.

And now you know the familiarity was Ma. They were the same person.

Ma used to tell you about the moon and constellations for hours. He enjoyed star gazing. He enjoyed reading and learning about living beings. Their struggles. But also their potential to be more than who they were raised to be. 

He was far from mundane. Viktor was more than who he thought himself to be. In your eyes he was far better than perfect. There wasn’t a word for how you perceived him. Because every word seemed minimal in comparison to what you felt.  

“You found your muse?” You hear your professor behind you. You glare down at your paper then up to them. “What? No, look at this.” You express, lifting up the sketch and shaking it dramatically. “I am. It seems you found it.” They place a gentle hand upon your shoulder. 

You drew a crowd. Just like your millions upon millions of paintings posted on your instagram. How is a crowd of people your muse? Your eyebrows knit together and you look up to Dr. Shoola once more. “This is just a random sketch?” You say in more of a question. You were confused. You drew this often, but it’s not your muse. 

“You’re a silly one, [Name].” They pat your shoulder, moving onto Ekko’s sketch in front of you. Your eyes land back at the sheet of paper. Found your muse? Where?

You observed your own drawing. What are you not seeing?

This is short, I did it on purpose because twelve and thirteen are going to be longer. :) And honestly I do have a concussion and this took me hours. I probably shouldn't have been on my laptop the way I was but I had to post thisssss.

Two more chapters left.

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