I'm Marble, 21 y/o woman and a lesbian. The main thing I'm going to post here are my drawings and writing of transformers!
If you're a minor, please block #suggestive, #nsfw before you go on my blog. I don't draw or reblog nsfw, but I'm an adult and I may do it on accident or unknowingly.
Also, I'm open for any conversation surrounding transformers, but only that. I'm not looking for internet friends, just people to talk about my special interest ^^
I'm currently watching:
TF Animated (s3)
TF G1 (s2)
TF Prime (s2)
My fav pookie of all time is Cliffjumper! I love that goofy angry man.
I'm also a sucker for the ships like: Megop, Cliffrage, Brainstorm/Perceptor and Cliffjumper/Longarm
Found family trope,,, man I do love a good angsty fluff. All the stories with a good ending are my bread and butter.
You can find my works under #marbledraws and #marblewrites
ā That below is a beautiful rendition of me in MsPaint <3
You can also find me on: BlueSky (+18) | Ao3 | and send me asks on my Starwpage
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
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Lets just say that I started to take my writing seriously :'D
Tldr: I'm talking about my plans for the future, call for anyone who's interested to watch me go through a journey of self discovery through learning how to manage creative projects and what it means for my transformers fic "A matter of appearances" on AO3. Spoiler, actually picked up the second chapter after almost a year and I think I'm closer to finishing it! Finally :"3
Ya girl started to treat this little silly fic much more seriously than she'd ever thought she would XD
ie. A little introduction of what this post and maybe a future list of posts are.
At the beginning it was supposed to be just sth little I started an almost a year ago. I wanted the fic to be my way to indulge into some enjoyable studies of G1 cartoon and learning about the universe. Maybe introducing some of my own thoughts to the fandom I just discovered.
Well. So. It's been a hell of a year since the first chapter was posted and now I have a new goal, a new lesson I want to teach myself while indulging into creative writing!
That goal is to learn how to organize a long-term creative projects though try and error. But it's difficult to do it without a community, hence this post!
I'm happy to reserve any tips and tricks for y'all as well as words of encouragement and your own stories, struggles with creative writing!
Big disclaimer here! This blog is exclusively a Transformers blog and I'll only be talking about this interest here, but I don't mind ppl talking about their projects for other fandoms or personal stuff. Just don't make it the main event <3
(Below is a small snippet of my notes for the next chapter of "A matter of appearances", if you rather not know what will happen, don't look what's below the cut! <3)
To actually start of the log itself!!
That above is my second attempt at writing down this story. I got myself a dedicated notebook just for the fic. The main reason being that I started to get lost in my ideas, not remembering some, not remembering where I wrote them down, even if I did! And since I started a therapy to better function with my mental disabilities, I decided that I could try to ā along with organizing my life from the beginning ā organize this silly project of mine and see how it goes? Maybe something I'll learn here I could implement in my day to day? Or maybe something I learn from my therapy (much more likely) will be included in my new workflow.
So!
I started off with that I'm including in the timeline of my fic, which is the randomness of Transformers G1 cartoon and the fact that all of the characters are alive at the time of the story happening.
Then I proceeded with writing in numbered points the timeline of this fic, because I needed that to finish the ch2 of my fic XD (the boring part of writing everything that already happened with enough detail that I remember what happened later, but not so much that I'm basically writing the whole chapters in point list style).
I don't think it was the smartest decision on Earth, but if that's what keeps me going then I'll do it. I finally feel like I can finish the ch2! Like, it's actually achievable, which I struggled for almost a year (been busy, life shit happened, new traumas got unlocked/hj). But I'm still here, actually moving forward with writing!
Yeah! This is what I'm doing so far and the next part in that notebook is deciding where or how I want to implement the core Lore for this fic as well as improving the style of my notes for setting scenes and storyline for next chapters. So stay tuned as that might appear in the next log!
ā Marble š±āØ
ps. If you've noticed some spelling errors, no you didn't/j (but just a note for the future, I'm not a native speaker and I'll make mistakes <3)
So americaengland wanted to know what would happen if MarbleVerse!Aster read her story Grin. I think I hate her.
I feel i could have written this better but given my allotted time spanā¦
So- Up ahead- Jackrabbit- We find out what happens when Marbled!Aster is given horror fics of his mate Marbled!Jack. God save me. My muses suffer because of this woman.
He wished he had listened.
From the get go Aster had found his light gray fur standing on end, shivers of discomfort and horror slinking like a disease through his spine. Eyes stuck fast, searing into the page as every vile action and plead for mercy played out. Sickly black ink teasing against white paper. Pure white. Like Jack-
A high pitched whine found itās way out of his mouth, thoughts rushing in a whirlwind of possibilities. Hurt Jack, bleeding Jack. His mate prone on the cold hard floor, crying out in agony, sanguine stains marring a pure canvas of whites and blues. Shuttered breath, saline tracks. Tremble, shake, brace for pain. Strike, pierce, rip-
Not being able to get to Jack on time. Even as he calls so desperately. Leaving him alone.
He didnāt even realize he was running till he reached the more shaded part of the Warren, ancient trees keeping the mossy ground cool and dark for plants less apt to survive a sunny day. Jackās favorite haunt, the place he would usually be found when he was visiting the warren when Aster was busy.
His mate was in his arms in seconds, a startled shout not helping the situation at all as Aster all but tore the boy from the air. Asterās instincts were on fire, raging in mutiny against any of his better judgments. He needed to protect, protect, protect Jack. The Pooka pressed himself into the cool bark of a gargantuan eucalyptus, curling himself around the wriggling winter sprite in his arms.
He let his paws glide over every inch available. Checking, once, twice, just to be sure, that Jack was okay. Safe and whole and happy. Though maybe not happy, as the boy tried to pry himself from Asterās grip. Jack was saying something, maybe asking what the Pooka was doing, what was wrong. But Aster couldnāt comprehend any of it. Only hearing the consistent beat of his mateās heart, the inhale, exhale of his breath.
Alive.
Jack was alive. Jack wasnāt hurt. Everything was fine. Jack wasnāt Alone.
A sharp tug to his ears brought him snarling back to reality, a rumbling growl cutting short as he met Jackās confused cerulean eyes.
āAster?ā
Even in his more coherent state, Aster didnāt let go, arms still locked tight around Jackās body. He pressed his face to the chilled skin of Jackās shoulder, a pitiful cry disturbing the forestās long standing silence.
āAster, whatās wrong?ā The worry in Jackās voice made Aster keen higher, claws digging into soft fabric as Jack was pulled tighter, tears forming in the corners of his clenched green eyes. There wasnāt anything wrong with the Pooka. Nothing. But there where so many things that could go wrong with Jack. How he had never thought of it all before-
Another sharp tug to his ears sent him honking in confusion, the twitching appendages perking up as if offended and then falling back, pressed hard against Asterās skull. Salty tear still held at the corners of his eyes, his gaze wet and pleading. Jackās hand came to rest on Asterās cheek, caressing the short satin fur.
āAster, whatās wrong?ā
Flashes, too vivid to be a memory but too plausible to ever write off crossed Asterās mind, the pooka flinching into Jackās shoulder. His muffled words barely made it to Jackās ears as he painstakingly tried to explain himself. His instinctual actions. But he was so incoherent Jack had to ask him to repeat. More than once.
With an exhausted sigh Aster pulled back, hands never leaving Jack, the contact being the only thing to ground him at the moment. āāSā¦I just. Ya know the stories Marb and Stephie write?ā
That answer was honestly enough for Jack, knowing all too well what the two females enjoyed in their literature. And if memory served him right, the most recent was a rather horrific gore fest involving himself.
āYou read āGrinā didnāt you? Oh Aster, you know we warned you about those stories.ā
Aster shook his head, giving Jack an odd look as his arms squeezed around Jackās waist again. āWait wait, Yahāve read that monstrocity?ā
Jack shrugged. āWell yeah. Iām always curious about what those two are up to. Someone has got to keep an eye on them."
Aster groaned, burying his face into Jackās hair. Figured his Snowflake would have read it.
āDoesnāt it botha ya though? You were- It was- Jackie-ā Asterās voice tapered off into a whine, arms flexing, ears twitching. The story had seriously distressed him. Just thinking about Jack harmed in anyway made him itch. And then to be given such a violent description, his mate maimed by all accounts b the tiny print on the pageā¦
To read, to imagine, failing his lover so completelyā¦
āDid you read the end?ā
The question caught Aster off guard, pulling him from his reverie as he looked at Jack, wondering if his mate was missing a screw or two. āI could barely make it through the beginning. How could I get to the end?ā If there was a crack in his voice he didnāt notice, Aster being too busy keeping his thoughts in check.
Jack moved closer, his pale lips brushing the pookaās chin. The boy settled down into Asterās arms, no longer worried over the situation, but all the more ready to comfort his lover. He understood the urge to keep oneās most precious person safe. Heād done it once with his sister, so very long ago. Knowing full well his survival wasnāt something heād attain at the end. And now he had Aster. Someone heād gladly give his second life for in an instant.
āThe end is happy Aster. Er, well⦠Sort of. You save me, and I get better. I survive. Because thatās what I do Aster. I survive. No matter whatās been thrown at me, I get through it. Even if itās by a hair.ā
Jack exhaled a long breath, wincing as the arms around his torso constricted once again, claws pricking through the thin fabric of his shirt. He knew that wasnāt what Aster wanted to hear, but he needed to hear it. He needed to understand that, even though he had taken Jack into his care, the Winter sprite was still capable of caring for himself.
āAnd even if I get hurt, I get better. I fight. Which is easier now because I have you. Because you are the absolute best thing thatās happened to me.ā And just because he could take care of himself, didnāt mean he had to do it alone.
Jack snuggled into Asterās ruff, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh spring flowers and warm molten chocolate. His favorite scent that heād come to know in the last few years. He smiled.āYou made me understand joy. You are the first person in two hundred and thirty years to make me smile. You picked me up and fixed me. Even when you didnāt like me.ā Jack chuckled, poking at the pookaās chest with a chilled hand. āAnd then you showed me love. Something I would have never known without you.ā
Jack held Asterās face in his hands, forcing the Pookaās eyes to look into his own. All the sincerity present in his voice sending chills down Asterās arms. āSo trust me okay? If I get into trouble, if youāre not there, I donāt blame you okay? You canāt protect me all the time. Just like I canāt- canāt protect you all the time.ā It hurt to say but it was true. He had to be honest right now, and Jack knew he couldnāt be with Aster all the time. Just as Aster couldnāt with him.
āBut weāll survive okay? And come back to each other. Always.ā
Jack was surprised that Aster had sat through the whole conversation silently, his usually stubborn mate more likely to pitch a fit than a spoiled child. But he had. And when Jack was done Aster just pulled him closer, small sniffs and the tiniest pin pricks of ice on Jackās cheek fair enough reason to guess that his love was crying.
The Guardian of Joy cooed into Asterās ear, whispering comforting words and love as his cold white hands carded through thick fur. Aster was able to let out a few rational sentences. Promises to be there as much as he can. To at least try to keep Jack out of harms way. Because even if Jack said it was implausible, heād try. Heād reach Jack as fast as he could when he was needed. Or Mim strike him down.
And then the promises of love. Of pure adoration. Promises to never let Jack feel lonely again. Promises Jack was all too familiar with.
They stayed like that for the rest of the day, Aster calming himself down with the others presence. Jack making sure Aster understood that he was okay, they were okay.
And if Jack mentally noted that he was to tell Miss Marble and Steph to hide their stories better, he didnāt tell Aster. He was sure no one wanted another event like this to happen either way.