#transmikecrew

[harimenui-forever]

"you cannot headcanon jonah magnus as a minority"

*pulls out the cursed jonah magnus/jurgen leitner stranger painting fic idea aka the aromantic manifesto from my drawer*

Okay then, let's see how you like THIS

For real tho you cannot moralise any of this, it's silly and I cannot believe that this discourse is back again. You are not transmikecrew my friend, you'll never be whatever that guy was on.

[nubs-mbee]

I read the tmc callout and the only thing that confuses me is why aphobia isn’t listed along with the biphobia. I could definitely be wrong but I thought tmc was kinda open about him not liking content that focused on jons asexuality? Of course there could be other reasons for that, I guess, it’s not like I was close to him so I wouldn’t really know.

[organicclownfarm]

v specific kofi commission for @transmikecrew 💖

commission info

[catoakacato]

A&M Shenanigans 10th June

I am the Horrible Goose that Lives in the Town, by Daniel Lavery ( https://www.shatnerchatner.com/p/i-am-the-horrible-goose-that-lives ) Read in prayer to the twitch gods and in tribute to Alasdair’s playthrough of Untitled Goose Game, which if you can catch a vod of on twitch was incredibly fun. Part 1 - https://clips.twitch.tv/GorgeousObservantSoybeanPupper Part 2 - https://clips.twitch.tv/HeadstrongWanderingStarRaccAttack Part 3 - https://clips.twitch.tv/EasySecretiveCormorantAliens Part 4 - https://clips.twitch.tv/SucculentSpunkyGarlicWow Part 5 - https://clips.twitch.tv/CreativeCheerfulBunnyHassaanChop Then there was an interlude of 45minutes to an hour of well-read horror, but you know, go watch the vod for that (and heed the content warnings)  LonelyEyes Tumblr Posts Elias and Peter are into some weird stuff: https://clips.twitch.tv/EndearingIncredulousNeanderthalTTours  (https://ofdreamsanddoodles.tumblr.com/post/611348422730137600/honestly-peter-and-elias-being-married-makes)

EyeEyeCaptain & FingerGuns: https://clips.twitch.tv/VibrantBitterSoymilkUWot (https://transmikecrew.tumblr.com/post/616424410866417664/wh-why-call-it-lonelyeyes-wh-when-you-could-call)

The Elias Cycle: https://clips.twitch.tv/VibrantCourageousHamAllenHuhu

Statement of A Bitch Ass...: https://clips.twitch.tv/SpikyArborealCarabeefTTours (https://transcatgroove.tumblr.com/post/189628206688/jon-statement-of-a-bitch-ass-boyfriend-stealing) 

You fucked up a perfectly good archival assistant: https://clips.twitch.tv/FriendlySnappySushiCoolCat Note for tumblr post folks; I know not everyone may be cool with clips of their content being read out being... around, so if you’re not please let me know and I’ll take it out of this post and delete my clip if I can. Alasdair and Marguerite are chill too, so don’t hesitate to reach out to them about the vods. (But they’re also reading and appreciating all the beautiful, joyful stuff youse are making with love not in a cruel way.) 

Because of the way tumblr promotes blog titles not urls I haven’t been able to source proper credit for all the posts as well, so if something’s yours please @ me with the source post so I can link it and credit it you!  ETA: They’re also actively looking for more shenanigan content so if you have small  (roughly <3mins) LonelyEyes or Peter Lukas related posts to recommend, let them know! Marguerite is @legalvalkyrie here and on twitter  ETA 2: Fuck, fuck, I forgot the most important clip: https://clips.twitch.tv/InterestingBraveFiddleheadsLitFam

Trans Rights! Black Lives Matter!  - I know someone has a trans rights RQ- related compilation and this is worthy of going in the next one. Surround yourself with good folks, stay safe and happy and loved. <3

[cringelias]

🍓 - transmikecrew. turn on ANON so i can SEND u things

KING i think you are so funny and cool you were so intimidating to me when u started interacting hdgjksdg but i love your takes, your mind and meat are HUGE!!! <3 king of mike crew stans

[irradiatedsnakes]

I'm literally begging you to draw mechs catboys that would be AMAZING

of course

[naberiie]

“when was the last time you slept?” - ama + azlin

“Where does this one go?”

“Those plates go up on that shelf–can you reach it?” Ama asks, and is immediately rewarded with a look of proud disdain from the young, brightly-colored Nautolan helping her clean up for the day. She laughs a little, holds her hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, beta, I know you can manage.”

Tip flexes their hands for a moment and then stops. Their huge eyes flick towards the entrance of the Rose Lantern, which Ama locked in front of them so they could be assured that she’d done it. And then they clamber on top of the stepstool and put the clean plates away, without using the Force. Ama bites her lip but continues to wash the dishes, both of them purposefully ignoring the way the plate wobbled, ignoring the way both of their nerves twisted in fear at their instinctual reaching out through the Force. It’s safer, now, if they don’t use it. But purposeful disuse after a lifetime of training to manipulate it? It must feel like a tourniquet in their mind, she thinks. A slow strangulation, violent retraining, of one of their most natural instincts. But they don’t complain. Tip gets back down and picks up the drying cloth again, and neither of them speak. She knows they can sense her fear, and she knows how exhausted they are.

It’s hard to find something to talk about, now, anyways. Words seem to always fall short, nowadays.

So they focus on cleaning the restaurant. Purposeful, engrossing work that they could do together. Three days since Tip stumbled in through the door, three days since Ama had mentally moved one name from the long list of dead, missing, gone into the list labelled alive. It is much shorter than the first. Three days of the pair of them focusing on the small things, on the things they can change, the things they still have power over.

The bell above the front door chimes. 

Her blood runs cold. Tip, too, is frozen, and for a moment all they can hear are soft steps, quiet breathing, the door swinging shut. Her family is all upstairs; her roommates are all accounted for. 

Danger.

“Stay here,” Ama hisses, drying her hands, eyes fixed on the kitchen door.

“But-”

“If it’s stormtroopers,” she goes on, quietly, “your pack is by the back door.”

“Ama-”

“Stay hidden, I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

They might have sighed in exasperation but she’s already moving through the kitchen into the restaurant proper, putting on her best imitation of her mother: confident and warm yet with absolutely no room for arguments. “Sorry, we’re closed–the door was locked for a reason, and-”

She stops, not quite trusting what she’s seeing. She knows those eyes, huge and strangely colored and so haunted, now.

She takes a step forward, and when the apparition doesn’t vanish, Ama moves one more name from the long list of the dead to living.

“Azlin?”

“Hi, Ama,” comes the answering whisper, exhaustion flaking away the strength of the Shadow’s voice like embers. “Sorry about the lock, it’s just-”

Ama doesn’t really remember crossing the room but she doesn’t believe Azlin’s actually here, actually alive, until she’s thrown her arms around the Shadow, buried her face in the thick hood of Azlin’s huge cloak. And she’s certainly not prepared when Azlin starts to tremble, her arms tight around Ama’s waist.

When Azlin chokes back a sob, the reality of the past two horrible weeks hits Ama all over again. Ama just sinks to the floor, tugging the Shadow down with her, and Azlin follows without a fight, curling into Ama’s arms like a lost child. Her quiet sobs echo in the empty restaurant, and when Ama glances back towards the kitchen she sees Tip peering around the corner. For just a moment she can almost pretend everything will turn out okay. She asks Tip with a sign to bring something to drink and they duck back into the kitchen. She’ll wait to relock the door until they’re back in the room, so that they can see her do it. So they can both see her do it. Small reassurances.

Azlin finally uncurls herself from Ama’s lap and she looks so exhausted that Ama doesn’t know what to say. So she just sits and holds Azlin’s hands, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. She’s relieved to see Azlin alive, but her relief pales in comparison to the terror of what Azlin’s life has now become. She remains quiet.

When Tip comes back out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with three glasses and a pot of hot tea, Azlin starts in shock, staring at them. Ama goes to the door and locks it again, the click providing some small sense of security for them all. Tip pulls a cushion next to Azlin and–taking care to make sure their poisonous skin doesn’t come into contact with hers–rests their head against her shoulder. They close their eyes and Ama wonders if the world feels empty to them, if it’s too quiet for them.

She pours the water while the former Jedi catch their breaths. When Azlin looks up and accepts the mug of tea, she looks like she just needs the warmth of it and cups it close to her chest. The door is locked, the lights are all turned out, and their little neighborhood is quiet. For now, it’s safe. “Azlin,” she begins softly, and then wonders how she could possibly voice all of her fears, her worries, her concerns. How to ask about the last two weeks of fear? They’re all so close to breaking.

Azlin holds her gaze, the skin under her eyes bruised, Tip still curled up against her.

Ama lets out a quiet sigh and, after a moment, knows what to say. She asks the questions that she knows will convey everything. “Have you eaten? When was the last time you slept?”

Azlin shrugs, unsure of how to answer, and Ama nods, rising to her feet. She doesn’t know how to set the world right again, she doesn’t know how to make it stop hurting. But she knows how to do this. “We’ll eat, and then we’ll talk. And then you’ll sleep here, alright? For as long as you need.”

Azlin nods. It can’t be forever; they all know that. But at the very least, it’s something.

At the very least, they have each other.

[letitrainathousandflames]

(click for better quality!)


AO3 Link


Cody places the chest plate over his sternum, allowing the magnetic clasps to attach the piece to an equally plain one over his back. It feels strange, the lack of protection over his lower body. His midriff remains unprotected under the overshirt.


“This feels… unsafe.” he grumbles “Too Exposed.”


Rex hands him the kama with a small grin, the little di’kut. Of course he and Wolffe had mocked him over it, how he was finally gonna wear one like they did. While Cody ties the thing in place, Rex points a finger at him.


“Listen, senator Organa told us to keep it simple. You’re not headed for battle, vod.”


“He might just be.” Wolffe quips with a low growl, handing Cody his belt “There isn’t one kriffing person in there that’ll be happy to see a clone in the senate floor.”


Cody sighs with the belt in his hands. Again, too simple. No thermal detonators hanging from it, much less his holstered blasters. Just a plain strap of leather shielded by plastoid plates.


He reaches for the arm guards over the table, running his finger over its grooves. The senate. How much did they know about the soldiers fighting and dying for them off-world? How did they feel about their existence? Senator Organa said they might listen to him, but what are the odds of him being forcefully escorted out like a droid speaking out of turn?


What if he is actually putting them all at risk? If the kaminiise start thinking that even their Marshall Commander is starting to sound like a traitor, how long before they arrive to the conclusion that the clones were a failed experiment and that it would be better to terminate every single one of them?


His eyes drift over to the carefully folded cape, to the names that he had personally embroidered on its inside, thinks about how no cape, no flag, no amount of fabric would be enough to actually get all of them, thousands upon thousands of men lost to this endless war.
Rex walks up to Cody, glances at him to then gently bump his hand guard to the commander’s.


“Me'bana, vod?”


Wolffe steps over to his other side brushing his shoulder to Cody’s, and the three of them stare at the names on the fabric as Cody unfurls the cape, spreading it some over the table. The three of them look at it in silence, reading and associating each name to a face, to a voice, to a personality. There are some of Wolffe’s men, lost to the Malevolence’s attacks; some of both Rex and Cody’s men, all lost in Umbara, several of them to friendly fire. And many others, as many as Cody could manage to fit in such a small space.


That piece of fabric is the only concrete form of remembrance for these men without graves or monuments. Clones can only trust their memories to keep the history of their brothers alive, and it makes Cody’s heart ache.


“Ni chaabar.” Cody says quietly, and it was only in their Mando’a that he could find it in himself to explain his feelings “I could end up getting us all killed with this.”


There is a small moment of silence, and then Wolffe sighs.
 “We are already getting killed. Every time we fight we lose dozens, hundreds, sometimes thousands of our vod’e in battle, or we watch them die in the medbays.”


Cody turns to face Wolffe. The commander, as many other clones, was never fond of speaking more than strictly necessary, especially about the bleak conditions in which they all lived and fought in; Maybe it was to protect himself, maybe to protect his men. Maybe it was just his way of managing to cross the tightrope of war without ever looking down. But now he speaks - and Cody listens.


“They’re keep lowering the age of drafting.” Wolffe traces  with his gaze the embroidered name of a wolfpack trooper lost to the Malevolence weapon “First it was by a few weeks, then months, and now…”

Cody notices him poking his cheek with his tongue, shaking his head almost unnoticeably. Wolffe continues:

“I was nine when I was sent out to lead my battallion. I was scared but I was grown and ready.” Wolffe continues, eyebrows creased in a weave of confusion and barely-hidden anger as he turns his eyes to cody “Last week I received word of new batches coming out, most of them eight, a couple of them barely there. The kaminiise are sending out a bunch of still-growing kids to fight before their standard training is even done. We already have accelerated aging to fit the needs of the Republic, but this? This is just sick.”


“And we can’t say a word about it because we aren’t a people, technically.” Rex adds sheepishly “We can’t say a word about being forced to work overtime. Can’t say anything about being paid in ‘special GAR’s credits’. Or about the overcrowded dorms, or the need of longer breaks, or mental healthcare, or entertainment, or a life outside the army.”


Rex runs a hand over his cropped blond hair.


 “We are loyal in a way most governments only dream of.” he continues, eyes sharp at Cody “We live and breathe and fight and die for the republic, and we are all proud to do so. But we need to believe that we receive back at least half of the high regard in which we hold the Republic. We aren’t asking for much, and the Republic has denied us the right to even ask.”


And, after a small pause, Rex swallows down, and his tone shows how much he knows he’s risking just to say it.


“Do we risk death for our freedom, or do we continue to live as slaves?”


“Rex.” Wolffe says in a warning tone 


The two of them know of Cody’s loyalty to the Republic. When the idea of having him speak against it in the senate even came up, Cody’s first response was to accuse them of threason. It had taken long enough to convince him to find the narrow path between his fear-based respect for the Kaminoans, his dedication for the republic and the jedi, and his love for his brothers.


Cody frowns to then run a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes and speaking between his teeth.

“I’m not a slave. I love my duty. I love the Republic!”


Maybe he should just give up on this. It was all a huge mistake, he had allowed Wolffe and Rex to drag him along with this nonsense. He could just turn his back on this and get back to the barracks, to his armor, to his command, where he belonged…


He opens up his eyes, and the very first thing he sees is one of the names in aurebesh in front of him, drawing in his gaze like a trance.
 
Waxer. How could someone with such a kind, gentle heart be so deadly in the battlefield? Cody remembers him, the eager cadet that would always be seen hanging out with his batch brother Boil. Waxer had a heart soft enough to make him adopt a lost child in the middle of a war zone, to pet and feed stray animals and let them in their cover when it rained. He would make such an amazing parent, Cody could almost envision him holding a tiny bundle in his arms, just like Jango would do with his own. He would love his kid with all his heart… 


If he had lived to have them. Instead, Waxer died in a dark world, fallen to a brother’s blast, crying in pain and fear as Rex had reported it.


Wordlessly, Cody puts on the vambraces, then the arm guards. Lastly, he takes the cape, brushes his gloved thumb over Waxer’s name. He owes it to him. To them, all of the Clone Army of the Republic. He owes it to them to at least try. Cody throws the cape over his shoulders, securing it in the straps on the inside of his chest plate.


His brothers look at him with pride, and it makes his heart swell. His comlink rings, and Bail Organa’s voice comes through it: 


“Commander Cody, are you ready?” 


Cody looks at Rex and Wolffe, draws in a deep breath. 


“Yes.” 


“I’m about to announce you to the senate. Remember - keep your opening statement short and fast because we don’t know what will be their reaction. And, from personal experience: if they try cutting your speakers up there, just carry on by shouting the rest of your statement. Good luck, my friend.” 
Cody chuckles, pressing the comlink. 


“Good thing that us commanders are good at shouting.”


-


Mando’a translations:


Di’kut - Idiot

Me'bana, vod? - what’s the matter, brother?


Ni chaabar - I’m afraid

-

Senator Cody picked up from several bits of headcanons across tumblr. I highly recommend checking the #senator cody tag on @transmikecrew​‘s blog bc it’s honestly the best and his writing is *chef’s kiss*

[kayleerowena]

fellas is it gay to have a homoerotic teenage rivalry based on hunting the same fucked up books

pwyw commission for @transmikecrew! go read a page turning!

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

hey @transmikecrew​ (based on this text post)

transcript under the cut

MARTIN

Ashamed?!

ARCHIVIST

Yes! Ashamed of the fact that I just – destroyed the world and have been rewarded for it, the fact that – I can walk safe through all this horror I’ve created like a… fucking tourist, destroying whoever I please. The fact that I… enjoyed it, and… the fact that there are so many others that I want to revenge myself on!

MARTIN

…No; No, I actually think you’re good on that front.

ARCHIVIST

What?

MARTIN

FUCK being the bigger person! I’m just, I’m just going to start biting people

ARCHIVIST

(disbelief) Sorry, what?

HELEN

(surprised delight) Yes, Martin!

[loumandliker]

sorry for being severely out of the loop but who or what is tmc??

transmikecrew you can probably search tmc or transmikecrew on my blog and sort chronologically to gain more context but tldr he was a prominent tma blogger in like 2019/2021 moving in the same circles as gerrydelano / themlet / titanfalling & for a time master-fiber, the three first of which were popular/famous meta (gd and tf) or joke (themlet) bloggers. he was a notorious hater of pansexual and asexual people, caused several fandom wide fights/waves of discourse, and was particularly famous for being extremely hypocritical and a two faced bitch who would misgender trans people and accuse them of fetishizing themselves for writing trans/cis fic among other similarly ludicrous reasons. he was weird as fuck about wlw and transfem people and tried to mass scale gaslight his follower base every time he was caught doing something bigoted which ofc doesn’t work because that’s not really how that works but because he was a dumbass he tried anyway. he was chased out of the fandom in june or may of 2021 because GD and the rest of his friend circle published a huge callout google doc for him where it was revealed that he was actually a terrible person also to them (oh no shocker.) so now he no longer is on tumblr.

[imtheecat]

me: hey guys tumblr user transmikecrew is a transmed and racist and bad let’s not give him a platform tma fandom: gives him a platform  transmike crew: is a transmed and racist and bad  tma fandom: :0 how could we have ever foreseen this??

[izuris]

commission for @transmikecrew

Thanks for commissioning me, it was a treat!

[lionofstone]

i was tagged by @pollice-bonzo to use this piccrew :’) I’ll tag @cabalakh & @transmikecrew if you guys want to!

me, turning myself into an angel: self care!

[rubysapphrald]

entityswaps for @transmikecrew

[cringelias]

13 and gerry?

aaaaa i thought the colours were really sick so i tried smth experimental shading wise hdshgksd @transmikecrew

send me a tma character and a palette number!!