Writer culture is multiple people telling you that your writing is great and you STILL believe it’s shit
YES!
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@kitsummer
Writer culture is multiple people telling you that your writing is great and you STILL believe it’s shit
YES!
The wig is giving me so much grief... Aziraphale’s hair is quite impossible. Short but curly. Impossible to shape from a wig. There are just no thin enough curlers. I have burned my fingers so many times...
(the contacts are for my NightKing coslay, so not quite Aziraphale, but I don’t have other blue contacts.)
LOL
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Finally, I’m back to D-16! First some side-stories to get back to the mood, and then I fully intend to continue it. :-)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It’s been awhile since I last wrote a fic...
My first tattoo. Watercolor-phoenix.
I love it. Even as it is still tender and burning-itching-dunnowhat, as it is totally fresh - less than a day old.
But it’s beautiful. :-)
Last weekend, I was Alatar, the Blue, from LOTR.
It was on the Middle-Earth festival, in Hungary.
Radagast and me represented the Wizards of Middle-Earth.
It was fun, and one day, we hope to gather all wizards. :-)
After a long time and a lot of hesitation (tried black, blue-black, was afraid of bleaching it, my stylist didn’t trust the hairdye I bought, etc, etc) my hair is finally blue. And I love it. And though my relatives and colleagues are mostly like... ‘umm, interesting...’ with awkward silences following, but ... there are enough friedns who think that it’s great. I think it is great. It will stay, even though I need to redo the roots a lot more often than before, because it shows up really funny... but yeah, it’s me.
LaRiche Directions midnight blue
Check your writing style ;)
I have to share this link with everyone: https://iwl.me/
This analyses your text and tells you which of famous authors you write like.
I pasted a few pieces - got Dan Brown, Hemingway, Arthur C Clarke… But when I pasted one of the letters from “A Desk” I got… this! https://iwl.me/s/f2fcfd6c
Rather comforting, I suppose.
@sherlockedcarmilla @hpswl-cumbercookie have a look ;)
Awesome @srebrnafh!!! Those letters will be great! (I love Dan Brown, maybe bar his uses of (…) a little too often lol)
I’ll check mine today. 😊
I have no idea how reliable this is, I got ACD. I guess because of the names, of course (it is just a statistical tool, after all)
Actually, it’s quite OK. I pasted a few pieces from actual authors themselves, and Austen is Austen, ACD is ACD…
But I’m not sure which authors are and which aren’t the part of the base, because The Prince and The Pauper is identified as Anne Rice ;) and Rainbow Valley is Agatha Christie.
And that’s even without names, the letter I pasted and got ACD was without any Sherlock-specific ones.
Hunh … I got Agatha Christie for longfic and Cory Doctorow for short.
I got Anne Rice and Agatha Christie about half and half for several of my fics.
Whoops this was abandoned like 2 years ago • I swear to god im writing it • Im not actually dead just a really horrible procrastinator
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861482
I swear to god I’m writing it
- ancient fandom proverb
I do hereby swear that I am writing it.
https://www.seibertron.com/transformers/news/full-cg-model-of-g1-crew-from-cybertron-scene-in-bumblebee-movie-shown-in-special-features/43098/
Witness
https://www.firstshowing.net/2019/view-all-3-trailers-for-netflixs-love-death-robots-anthology-series/
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 3 of Hard to Kill - Having fun Decepticon style
It’s obvious that it will never be one of my more popular fics, but I’m having fun with Shatter, so I continue writing the fic - and ignoring canon when it doesn’t fit my story. :-)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I decided to continue the little sketch here and it grew a plot, a pairing and a few chapters. So... there she is, Shatter in all her glory:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17564924/chapters/41395205
Anyone knows or can guess where the Blitzwing-Bumblebee fight happens in the movie? I didn’t catch a name and I cannot recognize the place., but it would be nice to know for the fic I’m writing about Shatter.
It should be in California I think, somewhere.. that’s where Charlie lives and it is not far from the place. The mountain is rather iconic, but I don’t recognize it.
Anyone can help me with this?
edit: I know now the filming location for it, which is Mount Tamalpais. It’s good for the in-movie location, so I guess I’ll take it.
Hard to kill
The dark waters slowly smoothed out as the disturbances ceased. No more falling debris, no more fighting robots, the crashed breakaway barge that had ponderously slid off the embankment with a metallic shriek had sank and settled under the dark waters. The few remaining lights tried but couldn't lit up the disturbed ocean, couldn't lit up all the jagged shapes in its depths. On the wharf and all over the tower secret service agents crawled, combing the place for the remains of the aliens. The Cybertronian tech on the tower was their greatest catch, so they mostly ignored the beached and sank barge amidst the dark green seawater, lapping gently now.
A few agents were ordered there too and dutifully, they swept the bay for signs of alien tech, for unexplained radiation and anything that could or would interest their superiors. They all knew that one of the aliens have escaped and that two should be dead in the midst of the flooded drydock, but to get in there and get those out they awaited for specialized equipment and divers. And it wasn't a hurry – after all, dead robots didn't go anywhere.
Except... they did.
One of the jagged shapes in the bottom moved. Slowly, carefully, staying out of the small patches of lighted waters, collecting pieces as it went, it moved purposefully towards the broken seawall. It stopped frequently as an agent overhead swept their flashlights over the water or leaned over the edge to peer into the darkness. It itched to yank the fools into the water, to crush them, squeeze out their disgusting fluids... but it knew that that would be foolish and borderline suicidal with the sheer number of them and their weapons.
And Shatter was not a fool. She was a survivor right now and she intended to stay alive. Revenge could come later – and it would come in time. Revenge on the little insects with whom she had to play nice, who took Cybetronian knowledge and who planned to kill them as soon as their uneasy collaboration was at an end. She firmly ignored that it was her intention as well. She was a Cybertronian, therefore superior to these puny organics. They could serve her purpose, but she would never serve them.
Superior, even half dismantled. The runaway barge did a lot of damage, even to somemech as strong and sturdy as she was. Shatter collected the most important pieces she had lost when the barge crashed into her and squashed her against the wall. She was thankful that they had come across aquatic planets before, so most of her systems were properly insulated. Without it, she might not have survived at all. Cybertronians were a strong and durable race, Decepticons especially so, but electricity and water mixed like... well, electricity and water. Even now she had shorts and had to lock down a few systems for water damage. The pain, she ignored. You do get to learn that in the Decepticon army. Showing weakness is for Autobots.
Shatter cast a last look back at the wharf, now teeming with humans. It was fortunate that they needed special equipment for underwater search, but it appeared that they had brought it at last. Funny that, she mused, that her species was more comfortable underwater than these noisy organics. But well, no matter. It was time to slip away. She kicked off from the ruined metallic floodgate and sank into the open ocean. She couldn't swim of course, but the darkness, the water and the pressure didn't disturb her either. As soon as she hit the silty bottom she started to walk – plod really in the soft silt that she hated on principle because it would be Pit to clean out of her joints later.
She moved several hics before daring to approach the shore again in the dim light of the dawn. The shore was rocky and deserted – perfect for hiding and repairing herself. And get out of the accursed water – it had far more life in it that Shatter liked around here. Organic life, disgusting and annoyingly curious. She had to kill a few of them, but that invited several predators to the scene and though they were no more threat than humans, Shatter hated them on principle.
She found a secluded place among some of the larger cliffs and dumped her cargo onto some flattish rocks to dry out and laid out as well, flaring her remaining plating as much as it went. The water that flooded out of her washed out some dripping energon as well. Patching would be useless before she was dry, so she ignored it as much as she could. The sun, she learned was strong here, it would dry her frame out fast and she could soak up some of its energy too.
The warmth, the quiet of the lapping waves and her tiredness caught up with her. Shatter snarled but she couldn't fight off the exhaustion any more and well... nomech was around to see a weak moment or two. She viciously snarled as she imagined stepping on that blasted human girl while she shot B-127 in the spark. They deserved to see each other die for fouling her plans. The Decepticon plans. A mere scout, a minibot at that! Unicron's ball bearings, she swore jerking painfully - she had got beaten by a minibot! It was such a shameful concept, it pained her more than the actual damage. A minibot with nary a designation! Because she hesitated for one klik, one blasted klik before killing him!
Shatter entertained herself with plans and scenarios of how she could get a revenge for that while she sunned and her plating and frame dried out. Then came the harder part. She was no medic, but every Decepticon, especially rangers, hunters out on the fringes like her knew basic first aid and her own frame. Triplechangers were notoriously complex and hard to repair, but if she fixed the car form only now, maybe she could store the rest and repair her jet form completely later. It would be more useful to hide as well, cars were abundant on this world while jets much less so.
Hide for now, see what was going on with Blitzwing – Dropkick was surely dead, she saw that clearly with her own optics and wasn't that a shock as well? – and if there was any more Decepticons on this planet. Con units operated independently from each other and while she knew about Blitzwing, she wasn't aware that he was also on this planet or what his objective was. Then, she had to find another way to contact Command to notify them what she had learned. It was such an important news, she might get a pass for it for failing to get rid of B-127. Or so she hoped. The Air Commander's punishments for failed missions were... legendary.
The next sunrise saw a battered, dented, dark red Plymouth Satellite slowly roll out on the beachside dirt road and smoothly drove onto the freeway. Like she did in all her life. Pit, she wasn't even the most aggressive traveller on the road, she mused as another muscle car passed her with loud and obnoxious horn blaring and she itched to transform there and then to teach it a lesson. Then she remembered that it was not the car but the human driving it and she wanted to kill it even more. But she couldn't. Not yet without revealing herself and the neighborhood was probably teeming with the human military by now.
She needed to get away and safety to make new plans.
And revenge of course.