#this has been a transformers psa

[pluralsword]

just a psa everybody the 'orange robot' who clearly is also purple in Transformers One is not Rung, her name is Lancer :3 she goes all the way back to The Search For Alpha Trion episode of Sunbow G1 Season 2 in 1985 as one of the Female Autobot (more recently known in other instances as the Shield of Solus) guerrillas working with Elita against Shockwave (read about the nod the movie makes to this here) and has appeared sporadically after that. She and Greenlight would finally get named in the early 2010s in Timelines as Autobot archaeologists, and the two would be warrior pilot gals in love with each other in IDW1/IDW2005 who debuted flirting in Windblade Volume II #7 in 2015 on scout duty for their warship unconscious Titan home, Carcer, not involved in the Great War. Greenlight would go on to date Arcee in IDW2/IDW2019 as a xenobiologist and help raise Gauge, and Arcee/Greenlight was also a thing in the My Little Pony crossover Magic of Cybertron, whereas Lancer was an engineer on the miraculous Winged Moon that made energon out of the literal time-space of the universe in IDW2 which would later become the refuge of the Autobots.

We totally understand why the mixup happened Lancer hasn't exactly been on television in 39 years and has only had one official toy ever (people have made customs of the idw1 version of her from cw swindle) but we do really recommend that people learn about her she's cool as heck, there's some good fanfic out there about her (and not just ones we've written!), she has a curious and flirtatious demeanor and can also be stern and pensive

here's some other images of her regarding recent appearances

(as you can see, we customized her and greenlight from cw swindle and cw brawl using parts you used to be able to get on shapeways, dunno if you can on cults3d)

it's really funny because before Timelines, Lancer's Ao3 tag name was simply "Orange Female Autobot"

she's clearly visible in the barracks for a few seconds during Optimus's speech rallying the miners

[mistermalaprop]

yooo apprentice au enjoyers-- i hope y'all are being respectful to ene and what they do/write. i need y'all to be normal and act like you have sense. don't try and force 'em to do what ya want, just let the story go where it goes (ಸ_ಸ)

that's it. all i wanted to say. happy thursday.

[inkfamy]

📣 Your attention please

Ratchet sitting on Jazz's knee. That is all

[woonderfullie]

Quasi-Kuro related ramblings about the demons under the cut

(most of it is in the tags)

Demons as catalysts for change and upheaval, or at least ardent advocates for it, using their presence to tip the scales

Could demons be summoned with less for less, through sacrifices that don't involve bloodshed but still have the power to drastically alter the course of one's life?

[revelboo]

hey. you know that one meme where planktons standing in front of a board giving a speech? something soemthign that next psa megatron makes but it gets hacked or whatever. in light of 'everything is alright's update <333 HJGDSKGMDSGDS--

Poor guy has no idea what’s coming for him

Everything Is Alright Pt 101

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

• Say something. Anything. Feels you begin to tremble against him as you stare at Starscream and Soundwave curls an arm around you, anger simmering through him and growing with every moment of silence. Knows the Seeker views the world through a lens of how it affects him, but he also knows that you need Starscream to at least pretend to be glad about this. To say something and not just stare at you like that with no expression whatsoever.

• “You’re mistaken,” he rasps, dragging his optics away from the sight of you in Soundwave’s lap and those eyes he gets lost so easily in. A new cruelty, a new ploy to get a noose around his throat. Because sparking you is impossible. As impossible as bonding you and he’d seen how that had went. Servos flexing and spark aching when you make a soft sound. “You’re lying.” Denta bared, his servos curl under into fists, because it must be a lie. Dangling something he can’t have right in front of him. And he won’t fall for it, won’t be manipulated or tricked.

• “Star?” Voice small against the fury in his voice, you don’t resist when Soundwave’s servos shift against the back of your head, keeping you pressed close as his other arm curls around you. His hold protective. But Star’s not a threat. He’s just upset. Angry. Turning your head to see him, your words fall away. Because you’ve seen him look at you like that before when you’d first been taken, all cold calculation and it prickles through you. A whisper of uncertain fear even though you trust him. Love him.

• Curling himself around you as your emotions grow chaotic and needle into him, he wants to grab the Seeker by the neck and shake some sense into him. Because that empty lack of a reaction is hurting you and before he can separate you from him to make good on the impulse, the Seeker is mass displacing and walking away. Running away from dealing with what he’s done. He can’t possibly be that selfish. That cold, but Soundwave feels you press your face against his neck, shoulders shaking. “I’m here,” he says, catching your chin and tipping it up so he can brush his mouth against yours as you cry. “I’ll always be here.”

• Not running, but striding through the halls, wings drawn tight to his frame as panic claws at him. Just needing to get away. Escape, because it hurts. Transforming, thrusters screaming, barely aware of other Decepticons ducking out of his way as he flies through the halls. How own furious howls lost to the scream of his engines. Because this blow he wasn’t expecting, hadn’t even dared to entertain. Had let his defenses down and Soundwave had struck out to hurt him. Or at least he didn’t think he had wanted it, wanted a sparkling, but to use it to hurt him? Like a cruel joke?

• Denta bared as Megatron pushes away from the wall and his servos flex watching the fleeing Seeker, he’s tempted to fire at him in retaliation. But what’s sent Starscream running like that? Venting tiredly, he’s almost certain the answer will be you. A lover’s spat maybe? Amused now, he heads toward the Seeker’s quarters and lets himself in, fully intending to toy with you, see that anger of yours flare. And stopping short at finding you in Soundwave’s lap, making a noise of such pain that his own spark aches. “What did that idiot do?” He growls tiredly as Soundwave lifts his head, his old friend stiffening.

Previous

Next

Nevermind about not opening the limited editions… gold Megs and Sounders to go with Star

[calder]

Themes of Gay Identity and Homophobia in Fallout: New Vegas

Revised and extended 4-28-25. Much of this essay is no longer available on the wiki. Please read attached PSA at conclusion.

Released in 2010, Obsidian Entertainment's Fallout: New Vegas actively concerns itself with the realities of gay existence, and is widely recognized as a noteworthy work of queer science fiction. New Vegas extensively examines social attitudes towards homosexuality among the game's major factions, and primarily conveys this lore through gay and bisexual characters describing their own experiences. It also allowed the player to mechanically set the Courier's sexual orientation. By taking both available perks, the player character can be bisexual. By choosing neither, the player can opt out of seeing flirtatious dialogue options.

Uniquely, Fallout: New Vegas explores homosexuality in the context of wasteland societies, and touches upon related issues. The core theme of New Vegas is that the desire to recreate the past is driven by irrational nostalgia, and any endeavor to manifest past glory is dangerous and doomed. The social issue of homophobia is used as a demonstrative example. The resurrection of corporate and military power structures presents new avenues for Old World problems such as institutional homophobia to reemerge. One of the many issues that divide the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion is the latter's open persecution of gay people. The NCR is described as tolerant and even accepting of same-sex relationships, though acceptance tends to fall off the further one moves away from the developed, urbanized core of New California.

In recent years, the Republic's rapid economic transformation has led to an unforeseen erosion of the humanitarian ideals which it was founded to serve. In practice, to recreate America was to take on its shortcomings and its sins. As subsistence scavenging has dried up, the people of the NCR increasingly turn to wage labor, entrepreneurial venture, or military enlistment to keep their families fed. Meanwhile, their government enacts morally corrosive imperialism (narrative verbiage), their dominion expanding indefinitely as their infrastructure crumbles from within. This has led to a profit-based imperial monoculture which must conquer, consume, and coerce to perpetuate. As personal politics and service labor grow in importance, people find themselves more inclined to present as "normal" in the interest of financial stability and political expedience. A loading screen visualizes this culture of artificial social normalcy: the portrait of President Aradesh on the NCR 5$ bill neglects to depict his unibrow, earring, and facial scarification, overall portraying the once-chieftain so cleanly-cut as to be unrecognizable at first glance. He also appears to be wearing a collared shirt or suit as opposed to the robe he wore in Fallout.

In the Legion, Caesar has mandated that every legionnaire take a wife and produce children, citing high infant mortality rates and the constant need for soldiers, and going as far as instituting child quotas. He treats human beings as a resource to be exploited for war. Ostensibly in this aim homosexuality has been declared a capital offense punishable by death. Historically, routine demonstrations of violence towards women and gay people are a deliberate feature of fascist societies, the only logical cultural conclusion of a government devoted entirely to war and control.

In Forlorn Hope letter 9, an NCR soldier wrote wrote the following to his boyfriend:

Dearest Andrew, Writing this seems pretty morbid, but tomorrow we march into the no man's land between our camp and Nelson, which is crawling with Legion. The Major insisted I write this damn "if you get this, I'm dead" letter so here it is. What a crock. I have the luck of the devil and your love on my side, so I'll be home soon. Keep the porch light on for me. We'll party in New Vegas when I get back. I love you. —Devin

Devin believed he would prevail over the Legion because his love would keep him safe. He was found dying or dead on the battlefield, the letter was found on his body. In a post-release patch, the injured soldiers were removed from the battlefield for performance reasons, and never re-implemented.

Driven largely in reaction to the Legion's hyper-masculine posturing and misogyny, rumors persist across the Mojave that gay male relationships are not only common within the Legion, but condoned. These rumors are repeated commonly in NCR society. A closeted NCR Major mentions that the Legion is "a little more... forgiving" about close male "friendships," speaking in a hushed tone to avoid suspicion. At the same outpost, the player can encounter Cass, a bisexual civilian woman. She may flirt with a male Courier, who may imply they are gay, prompting her to imply gay men are more common in the Legion. Even as gay men fight and die in the name of love under his command, NCR General Oliver may remark to Courier Six at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam: "If you think after all that's happened, I'm going to grab my ankles and take it like the Legion..."

This writing pertains to institutionalized homophobia which manifests in practice though power structures and social interactions without being written into law. Simply put, in his derogatory remark, the general expresses to his army that military surrender is gay, much like their gay enemy. From the brevity and bluntness of this remark, it's clear that this sentiment is already well understood among his ranks. Logically, to project strength in the eyes of such a leader, one might also project homophobia by scrutinizing and harassing one's peers and subordinates. In this atmosphere, the expression of homophobia is not only normalized, but materially incentivized. For the ambitious, it becomes a tool, and a way of casting shame upon rivals. For the closeted, homophobia becomes a survival tactic, hoping to throw scrutiny off oneself. This is why Major Knight is immediately frightened when a male Courier flirts with him. He is so profoundly alienated that he romanticizes life as a gay man under the Legion. The Legion punish homosexuality with death, and yet Knight characterizes them as more "forgiving" than the NCR. Through these apparently disparate events, the audience can trace how a distorted perception of gay people emerges among insecure men in a military environment, and subsequently becomes ingrained in the corresponding civilian culture.

At the 188 Trading Post, a lesbian from the Brotherhood of Steel named Veronica also wryly remarks that she believes legionaries have gay sex about as often as straight sex. She also notes that this only applies to men, as women have no rights whatsoever in Legion society. In this aside, she conveys a pre-existing frustration with lesbophobic social norms. Veronica also mentions that the people of her bunker would rather she remain on the surface.

The Mojave Brotherhood of Steel has no official policy prohibiting homosexuality, but an implicit attitude among its dominant members that their limited numbers require everyone to have children to avoid extinction. Numerically, this may seem logical on the surface, given their reluctance to recruit outsiders. However, given their tiny population, this is an ineffective countermeasure, as they do not have nearly enough members to maintain genetic diversity for more than a few generations. This approach is not universally supported by all family units within the Brotherhood, but every individual is ultimately at the mercy of the elder. Veronica was in a lesbian relationship, but they were quietly separated by Elder Elijah, due to the dominant culture of enforcing heterosexual pairing among their population.

Caesar's law has not ended homosexuality within his domain. Despite the obvious risks, some legionaries have continued to pursue relationships behind closed doors, especially given their access to slaves. So long as members complete their societal obligations and fulfill the child quotas, they are able to pursue romance with other men in secret. Homosexual relationships in the faction are noted as being relatively equal compared to the average Legion husband and wife, in a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" sort of open secret policy. Gay legionaries must always make sure to keep their activities hidden.

A centurion was once almost caught fraternizing with the teenage boy he had chosen to tend his tent. Despite previous "romantic" intentions, he quickly resolved to dispose of the slave to dispel suspicion. Had they been caught together, the centurion would have been charged with homosexuality and sentenced to death. This story is only known because the enslaved young man, Jimmy, managed to escape execution. Further illustrating the cruelty intrinsic to Legion governance, it's stated that homosexuality was the crime, and not the rape of a young slave; in fact, it seems Jimmy was forced to contribute to the child quota despite being a gay teenager, and the experience left him traumatized. He has resolved to never have sex with another woman, as the very notion triggers memories which fill him with disgust, and (in his own words) makes him feel like a slave all over again.

The Strip is indifferent to gay people, viewing them as another opportunity to make caps. Both the Gomorrah and the Atomic Wrangler are interested in maximizing profits, and their prostitution services cater to clients regardless of their orientation. The openly gay Jimmy works at nearby Casa Madrid, but there is some tension among his peers due to his co-worker Maude's blatant homophobia. She supposes he's "okay, for one of those," and if propositioned by a female Courier, Maude will direct them to Sweetie for such "perverted" services. Pretty Sarah must regularly intervene to keep the peace among her staff.

A more significant movement out west, the Followers of the Apocalypse only control one major outpost in the Mojave, the Old Mormon Fort, somewhat ironic given the social and historical connotations of Mormonism. They allow outcasts and downtrodden to take shelter among their tents here, and do not stigmatize sex workers or addicts. A bisexual ghoul sex worker named Beatrix Russel can be encountered here, and the Courier may do business with her.

The Followers tend not to form hierarchies, and insist that the Courier choose non-violent approaches while carrying out their quests, which involve directly bettering the surrounding community of Freeside. Among other tasks, the player may be tasked to distribute Fixer (a medicine comparable to methadone) to homeless people experiencing withdrawal, or aid those abused by chem dealers. The main quest giver for the faction is community coordinator Julie Farkas, a doctor with a bold and unusual mohawk.

The Courier can help a young man at Red Rock Canyon find purpose and kinship by convincing him to leave home and join the Followers. Jerry the Punk is a Great Khan who has been ostracized for writing poetry, and the upcoming masculinity rites expected of him by his small, tense village give him reason to actively fear for his life. Jerry has positive memories of the faction from his childhood, because there was a time when they would bring books to share with the Great Khans tribe. The Punk finds a sense of purpose and connection when he leaves his isolated home settlement of harsh, angry men to live among the Followers of the Apocalypse, who see value in his gentle, creative nature as opposed to belittling him.

At the time of the events of Fallout, the Followers of the Apocalypse presented as benevolent secular monks who opposed the Children of the Cathedral cult. In the wake of the Unity Crisis, the city of Boneyard peacefully joined the NCR. The fiction of New Vegas establishes that, in pursuit of their founding principles, the Followers developed into a transgressive force for leftist values, openly critical of the NCR's capitalistic profit-based society. Director J.E. Sawyer freely acknowledges that the values of the Followers of the Apocalypse were informed by leftist philosophy:

"The Followers of the Apocalypse: Libertarians, socialists, communists, or greens?" Sawyer: "They vary significantly, but range from anarcho-syndicatists to socialists to communists. Their general tendency to be inclusive and non-hierarchical means they don't have a single outlook or 'platform.'"

The distinctive character design of faction representative Julie Farkas resembles an archetypical punk woman. Being a far-left counterculture of a capitalistic empire, the Followers of the Apocalypse generally evoke and directly mirror the goals and organizational methods of the modern punk movement--more acutely, they embody the sensibilities of America's rail punks, a highly transient subculture who overwhelmingly emphasize volunteerism and anti-imperial philosophy, as opposed to the sensationalism of the reactionary punk rocker scene, which is defined by the moving target of aesthetic/social transgression. This read is further informed by the Followers' inclusiveness, abundantly evidenced in their care for people marginalized by other wasteland societies, including unhoused people, addicts, sex workers, gay people, tribal people, political dissidents, criminalized people, and mutated people.

The most prominent member of the faction is Arcade Gannon, a player companion and openly gay man, who was born an illegal person under NCR law. Upon meeting Courier Six, Arcade offhandedly makes his gayness known, unprompted. The audience must face the fact that Arcade's apprehension of the Legion is far from abstract; under Legion law, he would be put to death.

Arcade will not hesitate to abandon the player if he disapproves of their actions, but if his trust is carefully earned, he will reveal his origins. Arcade was born into the Enclave just before it collapsed. He hides this because his existence is a crime under New California Republic law. He abandoned his fascist background to serve the Followers' ideology of learning, harm reduction, and antifascism.

Additionally, Arcade is critical of the NCR, and encourages the player to re-route the power of HELIOS One to Freeside rather than the NCR power grid. Should the Courier sell Arcade to the Legion and subsequently lead the NCR to victory at the Dam, Arcade will ultimately be identified as Enclave-born and arrested from his position of slavery to spend the rest of his life in an NCR prison. As a gay man originally born to the Enclave, his very existence is criminalized under the law of both the NCR and the Legion.

Another possible ending provides further insight into Caesar's hypocrisy: should the player sell Arcade into slavery and leave Caesar alive, he will keep Arcade as a personal physician and philosophical advisor. They intellectually spar at length, and Caesar grows singularly fond of him. Accordingly, Arcade imitates the historic suicide of Cato the Younger by disemboweling himself, rather than suffer the favor of the mad Caesar. The Legion's remaining medics attempted to save his life, but none were Arcade's equal. Caesar understood his doctor's final gesture of contempt, and mourned him for months.

New Vegas ventures further into themes of healing from the trauma of sexual violence, from the perspective of a lesbian character. Corporal Betsy, an NCR sharpshooter, is a rape survivor, and suffers with PTSD from the incident. Her unprocessed trauma has manifested as a maladaptive tendency to aggressively and explicitly proposition the women she encounters, in an effort to reassert a sense of control. This defensive hypersexual impulse has negatively impacted her ability to connect with other women. A male superior officer notes that her behavior is inappropriate for anyone of her stature, but abstains from disciplining her out of sincere concern for her mental health. The Courier can help her begin to recognize these problems, and convince her to seek treatment from Doctor Usanagi at the New Vegas medical clinic, which proves helpful to her as she processes and heals from her trauma.

In Old World Blues, the Think Tank are five floating brains in jars who express themselves by waving robotic arms bearing screens depicting facial features. Before the War, they were federal scientists who committed crimes against humanity in the name of weapons development. Each is stuck in some sort of neuro-bionic feedback loop which prevents them from moving forward with their projects, mentally binding them to their central laboratory. Walking through their homes at Higgs Village, it's clear each was deeply neurotic before they were transformed into floating brains.

Now without bodies, they attempt to maintain the illusion that they are exempt from sexuality as purely mental beings, but each displays obvious interest in the human form. They have codified this shaming with the term "formography." Most of the men are obsessively defensive over their complete disinterest in penises, which they talk about constantly. However, the shameless Dr. Dala shows overwhelming interest in observing and recording any and all human functions. Already androgynous in her pre-War life, Dala has taken to self-identifying as a "gender neutral entity" (though she is not known to use they/them pronouns). Regardless of the Courier's gender, they may coquettishly scratch themselves, clear their throat, and stretch in front of Dala until her biomed gel decoagulates. Dr. 8 also responds positively to graphic masturbation advice from Couriers of either gender.

The X-8 research facility is ostensibly a massive immersive shrine to Doctor Borous's hatred of Richie "Ball-Lover" Marcus, a long-dead child who bullied Borous centuries ago. He also clings to his resentment of one Betsy Bright, who refused to attend a dance with him, supposedly so she could "go smoke with RICHIE MARCUS." Clearly arrested in development, Borous has literally built a temple to the fantasy of torturing his adolescent romantic rival and feeding him to dogs. His frozen, static characterization of the jock Richie Marcus as a "pinko-commie" who "likes balls" reflects the shallowness, pettiness, and overall misanthropy underlying his patriotic identity.

It remains apparent throughout Old World Blues that the Think Tank are all chronically sexually repressed, which is inseparable from the values of the violent and judgmental pre-War culture which created them. With time and isolation, this ingrained repression has manifested as various intense and deranged psychosexual behaviors, including rage-fueled homophobia, voyeurism, and the obsessive performance of puritanical pretense.

____

“Although I’ve been out for a very long time, I made a conscious effort to be out with relation to this project, as I wanted to be visible as a lesbian in the game industry. New Vegas itself is, I think, one of (if not the) best games out there in how we treat homosexuality – and all of that is very intentional.”

“If my work on FNV, if my being out has helped even one gay person, then I have succeeded.”

— Tess “Obsidian’s Gay Cowgirl” Treadwell

____

written (with help from other editors) for Nukapedia.

NUKAPEDIA HAS BEEN SEIZED BY AN ALT-RIGHT HIGH-CONTROL GROUP WHO TARGET MINORS AND MARGINALIZED PEOPLE. THEY HAVE HELD IT FOR ONE YEAR. THEY HAVE THOROUGHLY PURGED AND DEFAMED THEIR QUEER USERS AND USERS OF COLOR.

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS ESSAY PLEASE IMMEDIATELY JOIN THE COMMUNITY AND BE VIGILANT. THERE ARE 20 OF THEM LEFT AT MOST. THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF YOU. THEY SURVIVE ON NARRATIVE CONTROL. IF YOU SIMPLY PARTICIPATE IN COMMUNITY FORUMS AND STAFF TALK PAGE CONVERSATIONS THEY WILL BE UNABLE TO CONTINUE.

PLEASE SEE THIS POST FOR MORE INFORMATION

[mythmerth]

from my February and March readings, I’ve collected a few more merlin fic recs for the people…

ive been primarily rereading in March so I’d have to change up the style anyways xoxo here’s both!

For favorite long (80k+) fic I’m absolutely choosing The Scroll and the Sword by Elizabeth. The modern-with-magic and haters-to-maybe-you’re-not-bad-shit-I’m-in-love adventure of it all, I was thoroughly enjoying this one from start to finish. The plot hooks you, the romance gets you kicking and screaming, what else is needed ykwim. It also captures the brilliant merthur idiocy, really a gem!

For favorite mid length (30k-80k) fic I’m going with A Language With No Words by neptunesyellowsands! It’s a really great canon era post finale Arthur survives fic. The gradual acceptance of magic and grappling arthur does is just *chefs kiss*. It also has a sequel which was really great as well- just a really enjoyable series!

For favorite short fic (<30k) I’ll choose And He’s Still Left With His Hands by witchmd13! It was so beautifully written and I love the detail of focusing on hands in various scenarios throughout the story. It’s canon era, very soft and such a pleasant read plspsls check it out

since I’ve been rereading so much, I’m gonna do a shorter list of rapid fire novel reads and then another one of favorite rereads~

novel-

At the end of the world by b92morgan was a unique take on omegaverse soulmatism with a lot of lore and plot to back it up. not really canon era, not really modern, somewhere in the middle!

If you like your ouchie fucked up fics, Shackled by Obsessionist may fit the bill. It’s canon era and painful and pay attention to the tags cause it definitely keeps getting worse before it gets better, but still a good read!

rereads-

Following the beast by Footloose is following the fucked up trend in a different way. you just don’t get this kind of fucked up BAMF merthur often, morality is a bit lost here. Modern era with lots going on, and watch the tags cause even though Arthur’s the actual antichrist and earns the title in every respect he still has quite the age gap with merlin

My way home is through you by evaelisaa and Leandra is another great modern-turned-canon era fic. I love the transformation merlin especially goes through as he realizes where he belongs. the first kiss scene gets me screaming every time

The Dragon Rises by Footloose is an all-time favorite. It scratches the canon era itch but technically isn’t. Unique plot, incredible lore, the merthur in it is pure excellence, I’d recommend it to damn near anyone

Though Love Like Light Can Flee by horsecrazy is a wonderful modern era read. like these idiots, absolutely incredible the way they dance around each other Ten Million stars out of five

that’s it for now! sorry for the format switch but I hope it still works <3 god I’ve been busy and offline and this has been in my drafts but tehe I’m still hereeee!

psa I’ve been getting the itch to write again and it’s been distracting me like crazy… if I posted snippets of original work would that be welcome? 👀 let me know! I love to do more writing too but it slows down my reading… hmmm…

see you later for next months lists!!!

<< prev month next month >>

[airxn]

Protecting Yourself from Fetish Mining.

The rise in fetish mining anons has become horrifically rampant over the past year in RPC. Unfortunately, many folks have fallen victim to them due to the nature of fetish miners. The purpose of this PSA is to aid in spotting fetish mining anons within the Tumblr RPC.

Before I continue, please proceed with caution as this topic is adult themed but is a PSA for everyone. I will not go into detail about any fetishes. To learn more about general fetish mining, and what to look out for, check out this detailed PSA by BeckiiCruel, and this PSA about fetish mining within the art community by BluSilurus.

What is Fetish Mining?

Fetish mining, within the Tumblr RPC, is the soliciting of fetish content through Tumblr's inbox via anonymous asks. These asks are sent without the receiver knowing their true purpose and without their informed consent.

People are allowed to have fetishes, but fetish miners thrive off their victims being unassuming and unable to give informed consent. Fetish mining is a nonconsensual fetish and exploits their victims into giving them fetish content.

What to Look For.

Fetish miners within the Tumblr RPC use the anonymous inbox feature to conceal their identity, evade accountability for their actions, and come off as nonthreatening. They'll most likely come off as playful and exploit the fun in receiving anonymous asks within the RPC.

Fetish miners prefer targeting SFW blogs over NSFW ones. Why? Fetish miners want to claim their asks are not of fetishistic nature and to deny the receiver consent. They rely on plausible deniability in order to continue sending asks to their victims.

Please note that anything can be a fetish. Fetish mining asks will appear as innocent as possible to trick unassuming victims into giving them fetish content. They can also be super subtle or extremely obvious. Here are a few behaviors and examples of what to look for:

– Persistent or fixated on the same topic, action, request, or question over an over again. – Pressuring the receiver to answer the ask/s in a playful manner. – Pulling or stomping on a muse's tail, limb, hair, etc. – Putting your muse in a scenario where they're stuck in something. – Transforming your muse into an object, creature, or adding new features. – Cloning a muse repeatedly over several asks. – Feeding a muse over several asks. – Tickling a muse over several asks. – Fixating on muse's underwear, shoes, or other specific garments. – Wanting a scenario of a muse's scent or smell in detail. – Any kind of bathroom talk, including the discussion of diapers, the sender wetting themselves, discussion of any bodily fluid, and so forth. – Giving a muse a kind of potion, magic etc, that will force the muse into their desired effect ( changing their size, making them pregnant, expanding or shrinking certain body parts, laughing fits, the muse becomes lustful, or anything listed above, etc. ). – Super detailed scenarios featuring any of the listed topics that is without any plotting or context. – And much more as anything can be a fetish.

All instances above have been reported in the RPC throughout the years. Here is a Google document with current records given by victims. Please take a look to see real examples of fetish mining. You are free to submit your own instances if you have the victims consent. Instructions on how to do so are in the document.

How to Protect Yourself.

If an ask feels off to you, trust your gut. You do not need to answer every ask that comes into your inbox. If you're still uncertain check with trusted friends, or cross check the Google document listed above. Block any anon that makes you feel off, uneasy, or unsafe. Set your own boundaries, but be warned, fetish miners will not respect them if you leave them unblocked.

If you feel you must answer the ask, take a screenshot, block the anon, and then put the screenshot and your answer in a seperate post. Remember anons must be a member of the tumblr community. Unless they have another account, blocking them will keep you safe from further fetish mining attempts.

If you think someone is being fetish mined please reach out to them and inform them. Victims rarely realize they're nonconsensually playing into someone's fetish. Victims should not be shamed or told they should know better. Stay vigilant and stay safe. Look out for your fellow rper if you see anything that could be fetish mining.

[faegoddessog]

Feyd's Gom Jabbar

DUNE 2: Missing Scene (my own take)

Summary: Lady Margot Fenring is on a Bene Gesserit mission: test and preserve the genetics of the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. She is well aware of his deranged pleasures of choice. Armed with her Pain Box, Gom Jabbar, her Voice and her substantial wiles and wits, she delves into Feyd's world. She is unprepared, however, for her own reaction to his... attentions.

WARNINGS!! EXPLICITLY MATURE CONTENT, 18+, NOT for the faint of heart, this is a dark story for a dark character.

This is a hard turn from my usual writings, so reader beware. This is NOT Austin... this is Feyd. He is sadistic, uncaring, aggressive and ambitious.

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

⚠️⚠️Warnings: hickeys, biting to draw blood, minor blood play, pain, sadism, beating with a belt, restraint, degradation, pussy spanking, breeding, implied prior abuse of a child, vocal manipulation and control, hard PIV, choking, mentions of knife play⚠️⚠️

⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️

A/N: It is unclear if Feyd is 17 Geidi Prime years or Standard Galactic years. (1 SG or earth year = 2.6 GP years) So take this story as you will as far as age goes. I am a DUNE fan and have tried to layer world tidbits into this story.

PSA: This fictional depiction of BDSM is brutal and inspired by the characters from DUNE part 2. It is not meant to misconstrue BDSM or it's community or defame the rightful owners of the DUNE franchise. This is just pure S&M fantasy/fun. Before you play in ANY kinky way please garner consent, please discuss the scene, please set up safe words and please remember your aftercare. Safe, Sane, and Consensual my loves!

@austinbutlerslovers, @elvismylove04

Feyd’s GomJabbar

He is kneeling in front of her, though he does not know how he got here. His hand is in a box and his keen senses feel the sharp needle point at his neck. 

Lady Fenring is sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed. She is saying something about seeing if he is human through pain. The corner of his lip curls and he blows a short breath through his nose. 

‘Pain,’ he thinks to himself, ‘does this woman think I don't know pain just because I am na-Baron? I knew how to deal with pain before I was 10 standard years old.’

She sees his smirk at the idea of pain. Most, when the test is sprung on them, drop immediately into panic, even if they try not to show it. 

“You are not afraid?” she can’t help but ask. 

“Pft, there is nothing here to fear,” and he nods his face toward the box. 

She closes her eyes, turning on the nerve pain inducers with her Bene Gesserit Prana Nervature abilities. 

When she opens them, he is staring at her with cold, snake-like eyes. His lips, not set in grim acceptance, but lightly closed, amused, waiting. 

An itching, a burning, these are nothing to Feyd. Then the pain shoots like lighting through his fingers and palm, radiating out the back of his long fingered hand. 

As the pain increases, his eyes close and his naked forehead scrunches together.  The most sensual of moans rumbles in his chest. His plush lips twitch and his head tilts to the side. 

The only way to survive the kind of upbringing he had, was to delve into the pain, transform it into pleasure. 

His other hand is on her knee, kneading creeping incrementally up her thigh. His lips part as a breathy ‘oh’ leaves his lips. His head drops back as his eyelids flutter. 

“Yes,” he breathes out as though her lips were wrapped around his cock. 

She realizes with a jolt, it’s like foreplay for him. Curious, she increases the pain past where she should.  

His abs contract, and he moans as his eyes fling open to stare at hers. The predator she sees in those dark orbs internally shocks her. But her training has been far too thorough to show it. 

“Remove your hand, human.” she says in a metered tone, releasing the pain from him. 

“I need one of those,” he says in a low voice. 

“You wouldn't be able to use it if you did,” she counters.

He slides his hand from the box, not even bothering to look at it. Using it instead to wrap around the back of her neck. His other hand immediately runs up her thigh to her hip. He pulls her lips to his in a demanding kiss. He is so aroused he is about to press himself upon her. All he can think is how he wants to fuck her bloody. 

His desire was unexpected. There was no protocol for this kind of behavior. But the way his lips moved on hers, steady, exacting and completely in control. She finds herself drawn to him, despite his playboy reputation.

“{{Stop, remove your clothes}}” Having registered him in the hallway to draw him to her room, she knew exactly what pitch of Voice to use to control him. 

She uses the subtle ways, the ones that just seem a suggestion to the target and they still know what they are doing, even if they don’t really have a choice. 

His taut muscles relax, he stands and immediately divests himself of his outer Kurta, then belt, tunic and trousers. He stands in front of her naked. The alabaster skin was expected, indicative of living under the black sun of Giedi Prime. But his sculpted physique is magnificently breathtaking. He looks as if he was chiseled from the very bones of the planet.  His wide, muscled shoulders and chest rising and falling as he breathes deep. The V of his torso is echoed in the V of his waist, drawing her eyes down to his lengthy cockstand. Erect, willing, waiting.  He is stunning. It’s not always that a Sister is sent on this kind of mission and gets such a gorgeous specimen. She is going to enjoy this far more than she expected.

She leans back on the foot of the bed. The graceful arc of her hand pulls the diaphanous black  dress back, revealing the long slit up the front. Her bare legs are long and supple. They open to reveal a bald pussy, already wet and waiting for him. 

Her Ovulation Ritual completed, her eggs wait, ready to receive. In the AfterRite, she will consciously dispel any male zygotes and select the most vigorous female to be implanted, to carry the formidable genetics of this specimen. 

She releases her voice-hold on him. Wondering what he’ll do. 

Feyd looks her over as though she were a meal and he likes to play with his food. He doesn't just stick his dick in her like some hormone driven youth, he has a certain twisted honor about him.  He inhales her scent, her pheromones calculated specifically for him, now that she has kissed him and sampled his genetics. He growls, animalistic and predatory.  

“You are truly beautiful, Lady. I’m going to enjoy having my way with you. I’m going to watch that pale skin welt maybe even bleed before I fuck you,” as he speaks, he kneels down on one knee, a hidden hand reaching for the belt atop his pile of clothes. 

Lady Margot doesn't flinch at his words. Pain training is the first thing she mastered in the Bene Gesserit school.  Her eyes flash in desire at him. A little pain, a little blood spilled; this is a small price for the extraction of his genes. 

He leans in and  puts his mouth on her creamy inner thigh.  Licking with that long tongue, sucking her flesh hard into his mouth. He lifts her legs, knees bent wide to her torso. Her cunt open and wide to him. He licks and sucks, and licks and sucks. His long fingers gripping her thigh.  He is methodical, leaving a neat row of oval bruises like garters around her inner thighs. 

The  repetitive lick, suck, twinge of his work starts to lull her body into false expectation. Her mind knows better, it will get worse. And truth be told, she kind of hopes it does. She is curious to see if the rumors are true. 

Her pussy is dripping, the scent intoxicating to him, although missing the sharp scent of fear he usually likes. He delights in breaking in new slaves in the pleasure wing. Their dread smells and tastes so delicious. He smiles up at her, a monster in sexy clothing. He nestles his face back into the soft flesh of her inner thigh and bites hard. The sharpened black canines drawing blood.

She yelps at his harsh bite, but keeps herself exposed to him.

His long tongue extends, the tip dragging a line of dark red  up her leg.  He pulls back, watching the liquid worm it’s way down and drip off her. His cock twitches in response.  He repeats on her other side. She moans above him as his teeth sink into her silky flesh.

She, like him, must be a student of the beauty of pain and pleasure, he decides. This must be why she sought him out. Well, he will give her a night she will never forget, something Count Fenring, the eunuch, could never do. 

Her blood, nearly black in the light of his dark planet, stains his chin, he makes no move to wipe it off. Seeing his heightened arousal, she directs her body's response to the wound. Tells her platelets to back off and she lets her blood continue to drip, drip, drip. 

His belt, previously draped over his bent knee, is now folded in two in his fist. He licks the blood from his lips as a deviant smile spreads on his chiseled features. She truly is a gorgeous creature, and creatures should be domesticated. Broken. 

She waits for the blow that is sure to come. 

He holds the black strap between his two hands, and in an obviously familiar motion, snaps the leather onto her thigh. Not experimentally, not to see how she reacts, he knows exactly what he is doing. 

She yelps again, then moans, transforming her pain into pleasure, as she was taught. Her legs stay open to him. 

“Oh, you like that, don’t you pet,” He hits her again on the other thigh, ”Don’t you!” he snarls when she doesn't respond, hitting her harder.

“Yes” is all she breathes. To her surprise, she finds herself believing it. 

“Oh wouldn’t it be fun to keep you,” his snake-like voice slithers over her. “Imagine it, my personal highborn pain whore, secreted away in my chambers. I’d strap you, beat you,  every night. Decorating your body somewhere new, before I fucked every orifice you have. I’d use your blood to jerk off and make you sleep in pools of blood and cum.” As he casually talks, he is  beating her with the strap of his belt. Punishing her bite wounds, spattering little droplets of blood onto her thighs, her pussy, his forearm and fist.

“But you are Lady Fenring, wife to the right hand of the Emperor himself. You’d be missed.” He  pushes his lips out in a mock pout. “So I suppose I’ll have to settle for this.” 

Then he does it, brings the belt down hard on her pussy. With no warning, she gasps and her body coils, trying to protect her exposed and dripping vulva.  She should have been prepared for it, she immediately thinks. She has been letting herself dip too far into his sadistic scene. This scene where the only safe word lies in her use of the Voice and her wits. She must pay attention to the mission.

“Heh heh heh,” his smile is lopsided, psychotic. His eyes narrow predatorily. He saw that spike of fear, he smelled it. He is beginning to get somewhere now. 

“Now, now,” he jerks her legs apart, ”open up, I’m not done, Lady.” 

The crack of his belt on her pussy resounds in her ears, pain burning like lightning.  This time she is ready for it and keeps her body still. Once, twice, three times more he cracks her most sensitive of skin. She winces by the end. His black-toothed smile wide, enjoying her willing anguish.

“Now, Lady-pet, do you want this?” his hand is on his cock, leaving dark red-black streaks up and down his shaft. 

She nods.  She finds, when she allows herself to look into her own desire, that despite the pain, despite the fact that it’s what she came here for,  that she does want it. She wants to feel him in her, and not just for her mission, but for herself. She looks up at him,  giving him the exact parting of her lips, the exact mix of desire and fear in her eyes, the exact tilt of her head to make him want her, to need to be inside her. 

Sex, pain and desire, she knew now, would be the way to truly control him. How easy it would be to make him her pet, to bind him to her as she probed his deepest subconscious, planting the safeguarding phrases she was ordered to do. Easy to make him hers.  She would call him to her with the promise of tortuous pleasure that only they could give one another.  There were rumors that the Baron’s plans included Feyd on the throne. What a thing would that be, fucking the Emperor when she needed it, when she wanted it. Secretly controlling him with her whispered words in his ear while he was his most vulnerable, post orgasm. He could be her path to true power. 

His tongue runs along the black line inside his lip, considering how he wanted to fuck her.  He grabs her hands,  the belt cinching down around  them. He yanks her to her feet, the lace dress covering her. He drags her around the bed, throwing her down onto her back. He lashes the belt to the convenient D-ring sunk into the headboard, anchoring her arms above her head. Giedi Prime was harsh, but convenient for the truly depraved, even in the guest wing.  He doesn't bother with the bodice of her gown, though he thought ripping it off her might be a good way to scare her further. 

But no, he is only interested in the blood on her legs, in the warm wetness of her pussy. He doesn't like breasts, they remind him of his hated mother. He tilts his head, like a wolf, looking at her half naked form. She truly is a gorgeous creature.  Creatures should be domesticated. Broken. 

She lets him bind her, albeit haphazardly. She allows it, noting he is far too aroused to do it properly. Besides, she knows she can get out of it with a word. 

“Now, Lady,” his voice is like sandpaper smooth yet harsh at the same time, “I’m gonna fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked.”  

The words seep into her, she libidinously opens her legs, staring at him, willing him to sink his cock into her.  Her pussy is open, waiting, wet, and not just from her mind/body control. She startled by how much she is actually turned on by this beautifully dangerous beast of a man.  This must be why they sent her, something the Reverend Mother saw in her, that made her perfect for this mission. 

He steps away, fumbling in his pants pocket and produces a personal poison snooper. It’s about a handspan long and cylindrical. He reaches down, pulling her lips apart, straining her skin. She moans as the sensations shoot to her core. 

“Can’t be too safe,” he says to her.  He activates the wand and shoves it inside her, moving it roughly around. He’s lived his whole life in House Harkonnen, he knows better than to just trust a willing woman. He himself has used Rossak or Elacca microneedles to ensure his victories in the gladiatorial arena.  He is struck with the idea of installing one in the thigh of one of his uncle’s slave boys. Now that he is the proclaimed heir, it is only right that he should attempt to assassinate the Baron. A deadly smile spreads on his lips at the thought. The poison snooper beeps twice, finding nothing. He tosses it back on his pile of clothes.

He swipes the blood, still dripping but slower now,  across her labia with his hand, brings it to his mouth and licks it off his palm. The coppery taste of her blood mixing with the saltiness of her juices. He is no longer able to stand it, she is like the perfect fuck toy. The way she takes what he gives her. He knows he can’t treat her fully like he does his pleasure slaves, making shallow cuts high on their white bodies, so that the blood drips down onto their naked skin as he fucks them. She is a lady and a guest, afterall. In all honesty, the blood was a risk, but it was his birthday, he could get away with it.

He spreads her again with the fingers on one hand, guiding his beautiful, huge cock just barely into her. He watches her lips part for him, stretch around him. He loves the sight of himself plunging over and over, dominating the flesh. 

“If you were my pet, I’d put a ring through this little jewel,” he pinches her clit lightly between thumb and forefinger, “with a long chain. I would lead you around with it.  Pull on it and watch your face,” he squeezes cruelly, “do that.” 

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. Pain and pleasure rocket to her core. Her pussy grips the head of his cock, closing tight. He thrusts into her deep and hard, ramming her open again. 

{{{“Listen Feyd,”}}} She slithers into his mind with the strongest Voice, trapping him.   His eyes glaze over, his hips slow, fingers still, waiting for her orders.  She whispers the spell of binding, the spell that plants the Bene Gesserit control over him deep into his subconscious, should they need it, should she need it. She smiles as she adds her own twist, embedding in him a deep desire for her that would activate with a word spoken from her lips. It’s only fitting, she decides, since it is her blood, her pussy on his cock, that is sealing this witchery.

{{“Fuck me, Feyd,}} She  slowly lessens her intense hold on his mind. He resumes thrusting. 

{{“My clit”}}, his thumb scrapes at her clit. 

She is so full, so turned on. She has actually never used the Voice in sex before. The power is intoxicating. His fingers are rough on her clit, but it’s what she wants, what she needs right now. He feels so fucking good inside her over and over. 

His cock is pumping in and out of her, his own pure pleasure plain on his face. A lifetime of programming dropping away in his tranced state, as though he had taken Semuta and was hearing the sweet music. He was feeling the simple, timeless ecstasy, probably for the first time in his life. It strikes her, that without the twist of cunning in his mouth; the narrow calculating eyes; the constant state of awareness of a potential poisoned blade at his back, he was unequivocally beautiful.  What a man he would have been, had he been born into a different House. Revered instead of feared. A jewel to be coveted and honored. No doubt, with his natural intelligence, would have already been promised to one of the Emperor's daughters, if not to Princess Irulan herself.   His child would be stunning and they would never let him know she existed, lest he twist her. 

His face begins to contort in rapture, she can sense his passion rising, his hips speeding up.

{{“Don’t you cum, Feyd.}} He immediately falls back into measured thrusts. 

{{”That’s it, fuck me, rub my clit,  make me cum on that strong cock,”}} he works her clit between his fingers and his beautiful cock in her cunt.

It is so good, pushing her higher. Then she is seething, her pussy wildly contracting as he keeps plowing into her. Her eyes blink, her mouth hangs open before a throat ripping scream issues forth.  She jerks, hips thrashing under him. Her hands are pulling at the restraints she never even thought to make him remove.

The tambor of her scream breaks the hold over him as she cums.  He blinks, fingers digging automatically into her hips. He sees his cock in her, sees her writhing. He is unsure what happened in the past few minutes, Has be been fucking her? Did she use her witches powers on him. Surely not, she is still tied up. She would have made him remove those. No, he just got lost in pleasure, too lost. He growls in distaste, he is always under control.  His fingers tighten on her thighs and he feels the hard edge of the Pain Box secreted in the folds of her dress. He needs to refocus himself. 

He fishes out the box from the fabric, laying it on her belly. 

She frowns, panting from her pleasure,  not comprehending what he means to do, she won’t use it on herself, she can’t. She remembers her own Gom Jabbar. She vowed never again. Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam was notoriously… thorough with the Box. 

She shouldn’t be surprised when he shoves his hand in the Box. 

“Do it,” is all he growls. 

She shakes her head but uses her mental powers to turn on the pain, just a little. 

“Ahhhhh” he tosses his head back like before, his voice box protruding from the front of his throat.  His hips move slowly, pushing himself in and out of her. Her blood on the front of his hips spurs him on. 

“More,” he moans. 

She obliges, her pussy still spasming as he fucks her harder.

As the pain ramps up in the Box he roars, staring right into her face. She is captivated by him. His hips snap hard against her. 

{{“Cum Feyd, cum in my quivering slit”}} her pitch is a little less than perfect. 

He pounds into her, hard, harder, harder still. Truthfully, she starts to cum on his cock once more, losing her mental grip on the Pain Box. 

He yanks his hand out. The Box clatters to the floor. He grabs her by the throat. True fear flashes in her eyes, her orgasm stalled. Without access to the Voice, she is at his nonexistent mercy. His hand is wrapped tight on the sides of her neck, cutting off the blood flow to her brain. How could she have let it get this far? His eyes are dark glittering jewels, staring directly into hers. Her fear is exactly what he wanted, what he needed to push him to the point of no return. 

“No hexes from you, filthy pain slut of a witch whore,” he seethes, “you’ll take what I give you, take my magnificent fucking cock you dirty, dirty gorgeous highborn fuck toy.” All the venom from his twisted mind spews from his mouth. He fucks her relentlessly, now pursuing his release with single minded intent. 

Her orgasm is laced with fear but builds quickly with the decreased oxygen to her brain. It erupts as he grips harder on her throat. Her whole body shakes under him, her pussy contracting in undulating waves on his thickness. 

“Aaarrrrrghhhh! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” he pushes in impossibly deep, his cockhead erupting agasint her cervix, his seed boiling from him. His eyelids, his arms, his hips; all tremble violently as he unloads, raging into her. 

He stares into her pin-point pupils, panting. He won’t say it, but she was magnificent. The best fucking plaything he’d had in a long time. 

His grip on her throat is the last to loosen.  The blackness playing at the edge of her vision. Quickly, she amps up her oxygen intake to compensate.  

He smiles at the dark bruises already blooming on her long, graceful neck. 

He climbs off her, making no move to release her bonds. His long cock still half hard, muscled body rippling and shimmering with sweat. Fuck he really was unrivaled in the glory of his body. 

He casually  picks up the black pile of clothes, not deigning to put them on. He is na-Baron. He will have his slaves dress him.  He stands at the foot of the bed, surveying his handiwork:  the tight pattern of oval bruises on her thighs, the blood smeared across her legs and pussy, the trail of his cum left by his withdrawal from her slit, the handprint ringing her neck, the red welts on her white skin, the equally red marks on her wrists.  God he wanted her again and again, wishing he was in his own chamber, his own instruments of pain and pleasure to hand. He would have made this night last forever. 

“Know this, Lady Fenring,” Feyd hisses demonically, “you and your tight witch’s cunt will never be the same. No man will ever match me in your whore pussy. Ever. You’ll be back, begging to be my forever plaything.” He walks to the door, pauses and says over his shoulder. “Oh and keep the belt, as a token of my… esteem. “ 

He walks out, stark naked, with nary a look back. 

He doesn’t see the cunning smile unfold on her face, nor hear the low chuckle in her throat. 

Mission accomplished. 

[abibliophobiaa]

Hi Luna! I hope you're feeling better! I hope you don't mind me asking, but I was wondering if you know what happened to Emmy's (upsidedownwithsteve)'s blog? I was away all day yesterday and when I went to read one of her fics last night, it asked me for a password? If you don't feel comfortable answering this, I totally understand. I would also be happy to come off anon to chat directly if that makes more sense. Anyway, can't wait for the final part of RWYLM and I hope you feel better soon! Xx

She actually just posted something over on AO3, for anyone who was looking and searching (I saw a few people asking yesterday alone). I posted it down below.

It’s unfortunate that people on here are just so nasty. And it’s honestly why you’re seeing the fandom continue to shrink. I don’t really understand what people’s goals are. Other than being mean for the sake of being mean.

You curate your own space, and when you run all the writers off this site, what fandom experience are you going to have left? Think about it.

It makes me not even want to be on this site anymore (I’ve already been limiting my time on, which I’m sure many have noticed). And I’m sure I’m not the only one on here feeling this way as well.

I’d just say check on your favorite authors, because it definitely hurts when one (like Emmy and many others at this point) that we all love gets quite literally run off the site. And I’m sure it also prompts some to reevaluate whether or not this is a safe or fun space anymore.

Especially when this is someone (Emmy) who has always been kind to those around her (myself included), and is running her own business and pregnant. She should be ENJOYING this season, and some people just have literally no sense of decorum or common decency.

Remember that WE ARE ALL HUMANS ON HERE.

KINDNESS is free.

Just some food for thought. 🤍

[mistermalaprop]

my drawing spree was interrupted by the need to touch grass so now i’m outside. this is your sign to take a break from whatever you’re doing and stand up, take your meds if you haven’t, walk around, eat something, drink water, and scream at the government <3

[lamardeuse]

lol actual comment on the big buddie gif post

Oh honey, you must be new. We've had nearly six decades of character A and character B never fucking in canon and we have had the time of our lives making them fall in love, fuck, live together, open a little coffee shop together, die together, and everything in between. And you know what? We'll keep going for another six decades.

Your ship does not have to go canon for you to write, draw, vid, needlepoint or sing about whatever you want them to do. They belong to you, to all of us. That's what fandom is. Making our own fun regardless of what the "official" text says. That's why it's called transformative work.

Oh, and shitting on someone else because they like something you don't is a dick move. This has been today's fandom PSA.

[revelboo]

humbly requesting anything for teebs if youve got the time or energy, his reaction to the "please dont fuck the local fauna" psa's got me curious on his thoughts about it- his and hounds, but trailcutter/breakers been on my mind for awhile now ngl

Teebs incoming. 18+ 🌶️

Too Tired To Wink

Trailbreaker x Reader

• “I’m just saying, we can’t let those poor humans fall into Decepticon hands, right?” Hound asks servos drumming against the table between them. Toying with his bottle of Engex, Trailbreaker vents softly. Because Hound’s been on about it for the whole rotation. Trying to convince Trailbreaker and himself that it would be a kindness to go ‘adopt’ their own humans. “We’d be heroes. Saving them, right?”

• Glancing at his buddy, he takes another swig feeling the warm hum in his lines and processor. “Right,” he mutters. Because they would be saving them from being possibly taken and hurt by the Decepticons, right? And he’d have someone to talk to besides Hound. Someone that would look to him, need him for more than just his outlier abilities. “We can’t let the Decepticons steal humans.” Nearly knocking over his bottle as he stands, he vents and drains the last of it. “Let’s go save a couple.”

• “My feet are killing me.” Glancing at your coworker as they stretch their arms over their head, you smile. But yeah, eight hours on your feet and you can’t wait to change your clothes. Face plant on your bed and sleep. Just to do it again in the morning. Listening to your friend chatter about two other coworkers hooking up, you glance up at the one security light flickering. There’re extra vehicles in the lot that you don’t recognize, but that’s not too unusual.

• Struggling to focus and stay alert, they’d pulled into a quiet lot to plan. So when two little humans come right to them? It’s like a sign from Primus that he’s supposed to take you. Hound’s headlights flash and the humans hesitate, spooked. Afraid they’re about to bolt, Trailbreaker transforms. And they both scream and run in separate directions. No time to think, he lurches after one. Finding you surprisingly quick, or maybe it’s that he’s too over energized. Belatedly remembering his force field, his face twists as he focuses and his human bounces off the sudden bubble and goes sprawling on their back, allowing him to snag you. And there’s a giddy excitement in catching you, in claiming a human as his even though there’s a dim awareness that Optimus is going to be angry.

• Screaming frantically as the giant monster lifts you off the ground in a big hand, you’re aware of your buddy also screaming as the green one chases. Cowering back as you’re lifted close to that frowning face, the monster lifts his other hand to clumsily press a finger to his own lips then to try and pat his servo against your face. Shushing you as you scream even louder, because if you’re about to die, you’re definitely not going to be quiet about it. “Got one!” Your captor calls out and you crane your neck, watching your coworker get cornered and grabbed by the other monster. Just knowing someone has to hear you both screaming. Someone has to come to help, to save you. But no one does as your captor falls forward, coming apart and then closing in around you to trap you.

Next

[trenchcoatimpala]

Hello, this is a PSA after learning that my fic was on an AI website behind a paywall. The site in question was down for a while, after I assume the influx of angry authors in their inbox, and my work has since been removed (as far as I can tell) as have other fics I searched that were there before.

So, in light of this, I'd just like to say:

I do not give my permission for any of my works to be replicated, translated, and/or posted anywhere without my express consent. I have now locked all of my works and will be locking my most recent fic once it's complete. It pains me to do this. I really want everyone to be able to read what I'm putting out there, but I feel violated. I'm taking the only action I know how to that will at least make it a little harder for my work to be stolen.

Us fic authors are giving you our blood sweat and tears for free. We cannot make money off of our works. Each fic you read is hours of time that we cannot get back; hours of agonizing over what things to keep and what to throw away. It's frustrated keyboard smashes that later get deleted; it's late nights and early mornings; tired smiles and pinched brows. It's all the things you don't see because you're the ones reading the finished product.

We may be borrowing characters from our favorite shows/movies/books etc, but they become very much our own when we're the ones behind the pen. We each shape them in our own special ways, molded to fit the story we want to tell. And those stories are our original ideas. No two fics are exactly the same. Our works are still written in our specific writing styles with so much more put into them than just a few borrowed characters.

I write because it's a passion of mine, and each thing I create is still, in fact, mine. No matter what. My fics are my babies. I love them all dearly and I want them to be accessible to as many people as possible, but I am also going to protect them as much as I can.

I promise you I will not stop writing and posting what I have to offer. I hope I don't feel the need to keep my fics locked forever, but for now it feels necessary.

If anyone ever sees anything like this in the future regarding any fanworks please notify the author. AI is a scary thing for those of us out here writing fanfic which cannot be protected by standard copyright. Please respect transformative fiction.

I love and appreciate all of my readers so much and I hope you will continue to keep up with my future works.

[noxxytocin]

So I seem to have picked up a little troll anon who’s been running around trying to claim I’m “pushing down other people’s works” on AO3 just because I posted an updates hub.

It’s completely misleading. I’ve never planned to add chapters to it, meaning it doesn’t bump or interfere with anyone’s work in the feed. ❤️

I even clearly tagged it as a “one-time popup” and made it very clear in both the summary and notes that it’s not a fanfic, but simply a central place for readers to keep up with upcoming fic updates, excerpts, and queue progress. Sadly, AO3 doesn’t have a built-in feature for that, so this was the easiest option available. (since not everyone sees updates on here)

Unfortunately, this person hasn’t stopped. They’ve since made an anonymous Tumblr account to post public misinformation and even commented under a PSA post of mine. So just a heads up to the HL fandom: if you see anon hate or strange comments floating around, you’re not imagining it. A friend of mine has been getting hit with troll anons too.

Their current alias is eleganttimemachinephantom. I’m sure it’s just an attention-seeking phase, but I figured I’d give others a heads-up in case you get one of their little drive-by comments too.

Stay safe out there, and don’t feed the trolls.

here’s what they commented on my PSA fandom etiquette post and on ao3 so far:

(note: I deleted their comments and my reply to them on ao3. Didn’t want their bad vibes there. Had to switch my hub to registered account only to comment.)

update: I did type down my draft reply before commenting on ao3, it was in my notes still. It was in response to the “please don’t put this in the ships…” -> “I want to address this properly, since I think there’s been a misunderstanding. First off, this isn’t a personal life blog post, and it’s not “just me yapping about my life updates.” If you had read the actual post, or even the opening notes, you’d have seen it’s an updates hub specifically for my fanfics, including progress, writing excerpts, queue, and occasional teaser lines from upcoming chapters. These are all tied directly to the fics I write, most of which feature the tagged ship. Second, regarding your claim that it “shouldn’t be on AO3 at all,” that’s simply incorrect. AO3’s own Terms of Service and FAQ on Types of Fanworks state that the Archive is intended for “transformative fanworks”, which includes not just fanfiction, but meta, fanart, podfic, fanmixes, and other creative content. Many users post fanart, playlists, interactive fics, and yes—even update hubs or companion content for ongoing works. AO3 permits this, as long as it’s labeled appropriately, which mine is. As for the ship tag: I’ve used it because all of the content in this hub relates to stories about that ship. The tag is not being abused for exposure; it’s being used for exactly what it was meant for—to group together works (or updates of works) involving a particular pairing. Not everyone checks external platforms like Tumblr, and AO3 unfortunately doesn’t provide an internal method for authors to post general fic updates across multiple works. This hub bridges that gap. Finally—if a post is clearly marked and transparent, and you simply don’t find it personally relevant, that’s entirely fair. But it doesn’t make it inappropriate. You’re always free to scroll past. Policing the presence of content you don’t care for…especially without reading it properly—helps no one.”

I also privately messaged them on tumblr with: “Hi. I noticed your comment on my PSA post, and since this seems to have become a personal issue for you, I’d prefer we discuss it respectfully and directly. To clarify: your claim that I’m pushing other works down in the tags by updating my AO3 update hub is factually incorrect. I’m not adding new chapters or reposting. I’m editing the existing page only. That doesn’t bump the work or affect its position in the feed. I took care to consider that specifically because I’m an author myself, and I respect the visibility of other creators’ works. So no, I’m not harming “discoverability.” That assumption comes from a lack of reading—which is unfortunately a recurring pattern in your responses so far. You chose to speak publicly without taking in all the context, and that’s what turns conversations like this into needless drama. If you’re genuinely interested in dialogue, I’m open to that, but please don’t go around accusing people of doing harm without verifying your claims first. It helps no one, and it undermines your own credibility. If you’d like to have an honest discussion, feel free to do so from a legitimate account instead of repeatedly hiding behind anonymity. Until then, I see no reason to entertain bad faith comments any further. Blocking you now.”

this is the fic updates hub that I posted on ao3 (for reference):

[faranae]

Rant incoming (OTW/AO3 funding)

Pardon the ramble, this has been going on for months (years technically) but I saw a post again today shared by someone moderately influential and it's a "straw that broke the camel's back" thing. I'll probably pop it later.

It hurts to see how vitriolic folks can be when it comes to the OTW's (Organization for Transformative Works) fundraising. The OTW is more than just a "fanfiction host". The work they do and have done, not just with AO3 but also their other projects and occasional legal advocacy, is important to some people.

Is the OTW perfect? No. Are they struggling for funds? Also no. But these "righteous" PSAs implying the OTW is super wealthy and donations are just throwing money into a fire are misleading at best and positively reek of semi-malicious intent at worst.

So why would anyone rage so hard and write PSAs over which harmless causes other people spend their disposable income in support of?

[tinfoil hat below the cut]

Could it be partly caused by the small (but vocal) fandom-adjacent cliques that astroturf to sabotage the OTW's public image at every opportunity because they're Big Mad that AO3 fights to preserve content they don't like?

Do you really believe that if they win re: the big-nope taboos they'll abandon efforts to sour the other topics they hate? For example, LGBTQ+ content (emphasis on the T, gotta protect them kids /s) has been targeted by these same groups--over literal decades of fandom history--as have works and content created by and for victims of various abuses.

[/tinfoil]

I do not personally support the aforementioned big-nope taboos, but censorship in fandom is a slippery slope that we have fallen down before and I do not want to see that happen again.

I'm NOT saying everyone complaining about the OTW/AO3 fundraising is campaigning for or agrees with the TERFs/bigots et al who seed this shit into our communities, far from it. I am saying it is painfully obvious when a post is blindly parroting their rhetoric (which has often been carefully trimmed and presented in a way that appeals to them).

Next time you see a post hating on something (anything, really) out of nowhere, take a second to think about where they are getting their info, and whether or not that source is credible. For fuck's sake, I've even seen fake screenshots of the OTW's website tweaked just enough to "prove" their points. It's childish.

"But they have a couple million in net assets! They're not allowed to have savings!! They're a nonprofit!!!"

No, no, no. Perfect example of the "parroting" I mentioned earlier. Net assets are not cash. That is the value of everything in and owned by the OTW combined minus their debts/liabilities, not how much they have in the bank.

The OTW is pretty transparent about how much it brings in and where the money goes; They have to do this by law to maintain their nonprofit status. Hell, they'll even toss you the numbers if that's your schtick.

Again, not perfect, but nowhere near as greed-riddled as has been implied by so many posts on my dash over the past couple months. I think I'm more just upset at seeing people I know and respect falling for it hook line and sinker. It makes me angry to think about the people I love being manipulated by folks who seem to be allies, but who are simply waiting for permission to destroy us next.

/endrant