#slidin’ out the queue

[otome-on-the-side]

I posted 2,908 times in 2022

35 posts created (1%)

2,873 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-slept-for-13hours-ohshi

@sevensins-stuff

@thread-theocracy

@ttvck

@trashy-corvian

I tagged 2,877 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#love queue - 2,559 posts

#obey me - 2,150 posts

#dear love interest - 395 posts

#twisted wonderland - 352 posts

#gif - 82 posts

#mm - 82 posts

#the ssum - 68 posts

#bloomic - 62 posts

#text - 34 posts

#slidin’ out the queue - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#mammon being emotionally intelligent + beel chugging ‘i love my family’ juice means he gets a lot of baby brother wiggle room when he goofs

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

you know before we got to see Mephistopheles Actually Talk with Satan is was presented as really impressive that he was the only brother that got along with/was popular with Demonic nobility and like. early on this was paired with his wealth of apparent connections that seemed to come from everywhere. so it seemed like an indicator of how charming and socially skilled he was (and possibly manipulative but eh thats just another social facet in my eyes) bc demonic nobility was implied to be inherently hostile to the brothers. 

But post Mephistopheles reveal its fucking revealed theres an easy ass in with these people: “Fuck Lucifer” solidarity 

31 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

#4

Beel being cute/sweet with mammon works every time specifically bc mammon can Tell he Means it every single time

42 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

#3

I Am Suffering

(Edit: Figured out what the issue was! There’s a list of banned words in the reblogs!)

62 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#2

honestly the funniest moment in xyx’s route is hands down 

can you fucking imagine being toaster, and learning post everything that your bestie has fucking snakebites. like. its not a surprise with xyx, but my trust in the world would be fucking shattered. ANYONE in the server could have snakebites and that idea would never be able to leave my mind. salo could have em and itd just be “ah damn there sure a lot of variables in the world huh” 

66 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hc: the brothers, as avatars of sin, are occupying what was supposed to be temporary posts. Demons, even incredibly powerful ones, cannot channel the main input of a primary sin for forever, and it eventually wears them down. In the olden days, new avatars of sin would be found via ambitious demons killing off avatars that were weakened enough to Be Killed.  Now a days though, the devildom has 6 fallen angels specifically cursed to handle a primary sin by their own creator (and one demon that their head of household spawned from sheer excess). These assholes are just. living with their curses, and worse, aren’t showing any signs of going anywhere. Sure, they bicker, but there’s absolutely no chance of getting them to pick each other off through infighting. Worse, if they’re challenged, they show no sign of being weaker than they were- if anything, these freaks are stronger, only having grown into their power and mastery with time.  

167 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #huh #neat

[libermachinae]

Night Shift

Also on AO3! Summary: Prowl and Jetfire analyze leads on a Decepticon smuggling operation, working together late into the night trying to find the missing connections. A sleep deprived slip of the tongue leads Prowl to revisiting old choices. Word Count: 2146

---

Prowl didn’t keep track of his chronometer this late in the night. Morning was inevitable, and he knew he could rely on a burst of messages from Orion to let him know when it had arrived. As such, he had no idea what hour it was when Jetfire broke through the productive silence.

“How did you come up with these predictions?” Jetfire asked. Worst of all, he was speaking with his mouth full, apparently too incensed by Prowl’s logic train to be bothered with common decency. “Every gun you’ve pulled in has been running on fumes; I’ve had to scrape the insides of the barrels just to figure out what they’re fueled on.”

The impressive thing about Jetfire was that even as a voice over the comms, he sounded like the biggest bot in the room. It wasn’t just that his voice was deep; Orion, who wasn’t that much taller than Prowl, had a voice you could feel through the floor panels. It was something about the way Jetfire talked, deliberate and straightforward, rarely stuttering even when caught off-guard. It was refreshing.

“I’ve outlined the logic process in my report. I won’t be repeating it,” Prowl said, scrolling back through his files.

“What are they teaching in the enforcer academy that reports don’t need to communicate anything?” Jetfire grumbled

It would be a reasonable estimate to say they spent 50% of these near nightly calls complaining about their targets, their coworkers, and the administration, and another 40% about each other. Prowl sat through them strictly as a matter of convenience, being a faster mode of communication than the intermittent data bursts preferred by the sanctioned enforcer agencies.

Having someone at the other end of the line also assisted the rust sticks and nucleon microcubes in staving off recharge protocols.

“It’s as I explained to Tumbler: it communicates everything I intended it to.” Ideally, very little to anyone who couldn’t have worked it out themselves. That way, the important information stayed with those who could actually use it, and the rest—

“Who’s Tumbler?”

Prowl lost his train of thought as the rest of his processor caught up to what the .5% he reserved for conversation had said. He froze, rust stick halfway to his mouth.

“No one,” he said.

“Okay.” Jetfire drew out the word. “Did he buy that line?”

No, of course not. Tumbler was always relentless about that sort of thing. His curiosity and drive could have lent to the makings of a detective or captain if he’d dedicated them more often to investigations and less on critiquing Prowl.

“He was young and failed to grasp the necessity of efficiency in our line of work.” Prowl had tried to be patient, but he’d been young too, and Tumbler was the first partner he’d had who would listen to him. Even if it was just to argue that Prowl’s opaque writing was the cause of their inefficiency.

“Hmph.”

Jetfire liked to intersperse their conversations with meaningless noises, and although Prowl needed more samples before he was certain of his explanation, he believed they meant Jetfire didn’t agree with something he’d said but was ending the discussion prematurely. It was illogical, leaving a matter unsettled for which a solution existed, but normally Prowl’s priority queues were ordered such that work came before ideological disagreements.

“What?” he asked, finally setting down the rust stick.

“You’re normally terrible with names,” Jetfire said without hesitation. “I’m just trying to imagine what a bot would have to be like to leave that much of an impression on you.”

“He was talented,” Prowl admitted.

“Do you keep in touch?”

“No.” Prowl straightened his back and flared his sensory panels, ready to move on. “It was not a practical partnership. Being together diminished our respective abilities and prevented us from fulfilling our responsibilities. It was for the betterment—”

“Hey, hold on, Prowl,” Jetfire said, his rolling voice enough to draw Prowl up short. “I know that you—but, you know what that sounds like, right?”

Prowl frowned, immediately recognizing Jetfire’s social theory tone.

“Pragmatism,” he said. “We can’t have everything we want in an ordered society. I—we did what Cybertron needed of us.”

“By disposing of a part of yourself?”

Tumbler hadn’t liked that explanation either.

“We weren’t conjunx.” And for very good reason. There were more important things in life than feelings or fleeting commitments, and it was idealists like Jetfire who—

“Just because it didn’t have a name doesn’t mean it wasn’t important.”

Prowl’s thoughts stumbled. He hadn’t expected Jetfire to say that, not because it was out of character but because he was right. That was the exact sentiment Prowl had tried to put to words maybe half a dozen times and now it was being turned on him like a spotlight.

“There are things that should never be sacrificed,” Jetfire went on. Prowl felt his silhouette thrown into sharp relief. “Things we’re worse off for letting go of.” He paused. “A while ago, I was made an offer: instant entry to the academies. No exams, no fees. Everything I’d ever wanted. In return, though, I would’ve had to give up my wings. My… sponsor, I guess, knew I had the processor for science, just not the frame. They asked for me to give up one part of myself to let the rest go free.”

Prowl shook his helm, leaning away from the speaker. Jetfire’s tone was the same one he occasionally used with Bumblebee. With Prowl, he was hard edges and warning lights. They weren’t this for each other. They didn’t do this.

“You were nearly the victim of a scam,” he said, searching blindly for familiar ground.

“I’m sure it seems that way,” Jetfire said, unperturbed. “Do you get it, though? Giving up any one piece would’ve meant tacit agreement with the Functionists, that I wasn’t fit to do my work in any form but what they prescribed. Even if I’d told myself it was for Cybertron, it really would’ve been a sacrifice in their honor, and nothing would ever be worth that.”

Prowl wasn’t entirely obtuse. He understood what Jetfire was saying, but he couldn’t afford to hear it, not with everything he had already done and the plans he had yet to set in motion. Maybe Jetfire had found a way to live that allowed him to maintain his idealistic commitments, but most mechanisms weren’t so lucky. Everyone had to give up something.

“And now you’re here, working on behalf of the Senate,” Prowl said, just to prove that point.

Jetfire made his noise again.

“Right, I forgot,” he said. Annoyed or frustrated: the usual feelings they brought out in each other. “Waste of time. Forget I said anything.”

Prowl wouldn’t, but he also wasn’t going to give Jetfire an excuse to keep pontificating.

It would have been a waste of their time, anyhow, because however sincere Jetfire was in his admission, Prowl had never understood the hypocrisy of bots who would claim to reject Functionism while maintaining an almost fanatical devotion to their frames. In some intangible sense, maybe he did enjoy the opportunity to go for a long drive, but he couldn’t imagine himself grieving his tires for their own sake. He tried to compare it to what he had felt when Tumbler had said going to Kaon was a selfish, pretentious idea and immediately recoiled.

“Results are exactly what I told you,” Jetfire said. Prowl realized he hadn’t gotten any work done in the last several kliks. “Not nearly the concentration of materials to support your theory the Decepticons have contacts in Uraya, and a few that will probably trace back to Kaon, like everything else.”

“I’d like to see for myself,” Prowl said, standing. He didn’t often get this badly distracted, and it was easy to pin it on the state of his desk: used energon cubes and wrappers from the cheap snacks he kept fueled on littered the spaces he should have been using for case notes and displays. When was the last time he’d cleaned?

“Really?” Jetfire asked. “The data’s pretty clear.”

“Humor me.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Neither said goodbye before they hung up: another of their customs.

Prowl cleared the mess into the trash. Exhaustion was nibbling at his processor like a corrosive. Another couple shots would get him through his morning meetings, and then a regular midday fueling would carry him over until he could recharge properly in the evening. Before that, though, the day had to begin, an event he discovered was closer than he’d expected when he stepped outside and saw the horizon just tilting toward the pale blue of an oncoming dawn.

The air was gentle, the pleasant cool that foreshadowed a blistering day. Jetfire was a dot over the Rodion skyline. Prowl glanced up at the few stars that could punch through the light pollution and was reminded, suddenly, of the time he and Tumbler had discussed getting a little patch of metal out on the Tungsten Moors. The barren sparkfields had felt nonetheless fertile with possibilities, and they had gotten hung up on whether it would be more practical to live in a house with two stories or just one. It had been a fantasy, nothing more; even on their joint income, it would have taken millions of years to save up. But there had been something, if not fulfilling, thrilling about it, making plans that didn’t hinge on work or promotions.

He wondered if Tumbler remembered that conversation.

Jetfire’s slow approach gave Prowl time to dwell while keeping an idle optic on his teammate. There was nothing spectacular about Jetfire’s flying: Prowl had worked with and chased down fliers who were faster, more maneuverable, and flashier in every way. But there was something resolute and sure about the way Jetfire coasted, a steadiness that Prowl would have appreciated sooner if he’d noticed it, his thoughts of Tumbler and past mistakes and pointless sacrifice sliding away as he watched Jetfire’s flight.

Jetfire’s flying was beautiful, in its own way. Its understatement reminded Prowl of his own assembly line colors, but with an underlying confidence that left Prowl feeling inadequate. Though technically strong, his power was limited to what he could siphon off Orion and their other high-level contacts. He’d experienced a taste of the real thing under Sentinel, but that had been an especially tenuous connection, liable to snap had he ever tugged too hard. Jetfire’s power was all his own. Not overwhelming, not enough to make the changes Cybertron needed. Incomparable, really, to what Prowl had wielded. But it radiated from the tips of his wings to the burn of his thrusters, self-realized, without reservation or concession.

Prowl’s tac net pinged him with the results for a problem he hadn’t realized he’d plugged in: 50% Prowl should have been strong enough to find another way, 50% choosing Tumbler would have made him stronger.

A perfect 50-50 meant his systems were badly in need of defrag. He cleared the cache and set his tac net to reboot, shaking his helm to dispel the resulting vertigo as Jetfire landed on the steps below him. Prowl waited patiently for him to complete his mode switch, taking two steps back so they would be at optic level with each other.

“Pleasant flight?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t trade it for anything,” Jetfire said with a smugness that allowed Prowl to scoff as he motioned for the datapad.

Jetfire handed it over. Prowl knew he was being watched as he powered it on and reviewed its contents, but he took his time, using Jetfire’s results to run through a few warm up calculations as his tac net came back online.

“You didn’t check for copper fluoride,” he commented.

“No,” Jetfire said slowly, “because it wasn’t one of the compounds we were investigating.”

“Run the tests again.” Prowl tried to return the datapad, but Jetfire refused to take it. “The chances we would find evidence of materials native to the Urayan region were always slim to none. However, the old blackmarket pipeline between Kaon and Yuss ran directly underneath the city. Does that make more sense?”

Prowl saw the moment Jetfire finally saw the case as he did, a knotted web of deceptions meant to dissuade even the most seasoned detective from untangling its core. Jetfire took the datapad from Prowl and stowed it, though the hard look in his optics did not waver.

“Could’ve said that from the beginning,” Jetfire griped.

Prowl didn’t bother to respond. What was done was done. Talking so much about the past was a waste of time neither of them could afford, because for all that it might have mattered, nothing they said could change any of it. All they had was the future, and the possibility of starting each day stronger than they had the one before.

#finally remembered to upload! #maccadam #transformers #prowl #jetfire #my writing #oneshot

[marvelite624]

So the day wasn't the complete disaster we'd expected after all! "The Lord works in mysterious ways." It kinda wedged itself into my head and wouldn't stop braggin its' truth at me; finally somethin' made sense! I'd gotten some good pictures, had some fun, and eaten some exceptional cake. My favorite shot was when Becka opened her momma's gift.

"Ohhhh, Fancy Fwancine! Wook! Fancy Fwancine!", she'd yelled, her face all lit up like a Christmas tree. I'd looked at Sarah and shrugged, "She's a 'Fashion Fwend', uh, 'Friend', comes with make-up and extra outfits, dummy! Where have YOU been living?" She snickered as she gently mocked an elbow at Constance who listened in at her side. Extra outfits from Sylvie after some insider info came her way. A new pink 'Mother-of-pearl', authentic plastic brush and comb set with matchin' bows and berets from Benji. Imported from Taiwan! Hey, the boy has taste! Constance brought her some perfume from her private stock it seems! Becks was happy, Momma was happy! And, I couldn't believe it but, I was feelin' pretty happy too at the moment.

"Now , what? What...WHAT?", I thought as a set of headlights flashed across the full length of our picture window. Realizin' we had company, I reached for the tv remote, quickly shuttin' the set off as I stood to approach the curtains. Slidin' a panel back slightly, provided a view to the driveway. It was dusk. The last rays of the sun havin' just dipped below the horizon. Squintin' through the crack and trying to listen for whatever I might pick up, it took me a few seconds. "Thanks for the lift!", the voice said. "Glad to help, sugar! Don't lose that number now, I'm not in the book!" The vehicle backed away slowly before turnin' onto the highway and disappearin' into the distance.

It couldn't be! Could it!? Hurriedly, with exaggerated steps, I was at the door in seconds. I flipped on the porchlight, "Hot Damn! Look what the cat dragged up! Gil...li'l brother! You look like...", I was halted at that point. He knew what was about to come out of my mouth next! "Ch,ch,ch! Shhhhh!", with a finger raised to his lips, "Mister Pickles might hear you, stupid!"

We threw up our arms like marionettes and fell into an exuberant embrace. Noticed right off, Gil had been workin' out! The poundin' he was puttin' on my back wasn't slackin' a bit! "What's it been, brother? Two years...?" "You always were one to exaggerate, Frankie. Year and a half, less maybe." Both of us stopped to catch a breath and just like since we were kids, we began in unison. Hunched like Peter Lore, oddly relaxed yet spooky eyed, we backed around eachother tiptoein' in a circle, "Slowly...I...turned, step...by...step..."

"Well, don't be steppin' in anything you can track into the house, boys!" Sarah was drawn down by the light and commotion; she'd stood there, watchin'. "I swear! Neither of you two has grown a lick o' sense since I met you. Get in here, Gil, and give me one o' those hugs you just tried to kill your brother with! I don't have all night!"

Gil stepped in and snatched Sarah off her feet before givin' her a couple of spinnin' whirls. "Your makin' me dizzy, son...that's enough. Enough, now!" As he put her down, he smacked a quick kiss to each cheek and flashed those lady-killin' pearly whites her way. "Yes, well...", her eyes shootin' sharply over at my handsome younger brother, "...did you feel those arms, Frankie? I might have to play some 'eeny meany miney moe' with you two! Uh huh."

"Uh-uh, your stuck with me...says so on the contract! You want some coffee, Gil? How about a piece o' birthday cake?" "Smelled it comin' up; heck yeah I'll have a piece! Soon as the coffee's done...and don't make me beg for seconds."

I was expectin' the usual 'slap' any time now, wonderin' if I had time for some cake before it hit. When, right on queue, just as I swallowed a premature sigh of relief! From the basement came a loud *CRASH*! It sounded like glass for sure.

"Sounds like you might have company in the cellar too, Frank. You want me to take a look?" "Nope. You just cool your jets up here. This is a job for...", that one-raised-eyebrow look of his followed me as I retrieved a flashlight from the drawer we threw junk into, "...nevermind! I won't be long."

Well, that sounded confident enough, I think. Truth be told, I was anythin' BUT just then. My nerves were tryin' to get the best of me; show junior what a man I was these days. Weird stuff happenin' around me lately, I didn't know WHAT to expect as I opened the door, clicked on the flashlight, and began my descent into a dark unknown. "Oooooooo", Bela Lugosi again but, only in my head this time.

There was no overhead light. Three bulbs had blown soon as I screwed them in. Figured it would be stupid to waste a fourth and made a mental note to call an electrician soon as I got some extra cash. Must be rats, messin' up the wiring. Really hoped the house didn't burn down first. I walked slowly, cautiously fannin' that pitiful beam side to side. A jar of Gran-m'ma's home-canned plum jelly lay just ahead in bits-n-pieces on the floor. Probably the last one too, dammit!

Barely audible from the blackened corner just ahead, a sound like smackin', no crackin', scratchin'...hell, all of the above! I could feel the hair rising on the back of my neck, down both arms, spreadin' across the tops of my thighs as the anticipation also raised a bit of sweat...or was it hot down here? I honestly couldn't determine the cause. The hair, at attention, was weakly vibrating now.

One last pass at the right side of the back wall and I saw it! Ferocious and startlin' upon discovery, chewin' a rat, tonight's trophy meal. Where had it come from? What sinister plot was being hatched right there, in my cellar? I softly snickered then as I lifted the formidable beast into my clutches. It dropped its' dinner and offered little resistance as I began the long trek back into the light.

Placin' distance between me and the darkness at my back, I didn't see the translucent, snake-like...thing that darted out silently around the shelvin'. It sampled the jelly I'd left behind. Once, twice it dabbed at the sticky mess, before divin' into it, intent on acquirin' every wayward drop. The cat's lost meal would most likely then, be next on the menu.

My home harbored secrets from me and I, in my naivete, believed I knew the whole tale. The stairs fell away, one by one, witness to my ascension into sanity once more. "Drama queen much?", my brother would say. But not this time, just keepin' it real where he was concerned.

I reached the pinnacle and sealed the breach...ok, I could stop pokin' fun at myself now. The colorful rhetoric was growin', out of control. Funny how I could switch between the two effortlessly but, like 'Barney' says...that's 'Fife', not the reptile, it was time to "Nip it"! I closed the door, *ahem* and presented the 'cringin' beast' to the others.

Sarah was workin' on the coffee and cake. How oblivious she'd been to my tenuous plight! Gilbert stood there, the one-brow look 'tauntin' me still'. "You found a cat down there, nothing else? I felt...", curiously he hesitated. I stole the opportuniy to take the lead again, " You 'felt', in touch with our touchy-feelies too are we? What do they teach you at that school?" "I felt...like you might need some back-up down there. For just a minute, I wanted to join you."

"I'm only kiddin' you, Gil. Actually, I've been doin' some serious 'touchy-feelie' stuff myself lately." "I know." "Huh? You know what?" "I know how things can get sometimes, how life can sneak up and surprise you. Sometimes with some oddly incredible shit!" "Yeah, right...can't argue with that one." The conversation was becoming, how had Gil put it? "oddly incredible".

"So, you want me to 'put that cat out for the night'?" "Just can't let one go by, can ya? That was a good one though...wish I'd thought of it." I found myself strokin' the little guy's fur and oddly, incredibly...liking it. "Sure, I'll figure out how he got in tomorrow. Right now, I'm smellin' the munchies! Give 'im the old 'Yabba Dabba Do!' for me."

Gil appropriated the animal from my grip and headed for the back door, only feet away. He held the cat up by the scruff of its' neck and just inches from the door, stopped to pivot a full 180. "Hey, Sarah! Can you c'mere a sec?" "Sure, Gil! Just about to pour the coffee!", came her reply from the kitchen. "No, before that, please." She appeared in the entryway, "What is so important that it couldn't wait another minute?"

My brother extruded his arm asking, "That color one of yours?" "Well, I'll be...it is!" Bein' more familiar with things like fingernail polish, (oh, that was cheap!)...Gil noticed 'someone' had attempted to paint the cat's claws with 'Sunset's Passion', Sarah's favorite polish. Again, I found my openin', "Well, don't look at me, we just met!" They turned to look at me, Sarah's head slightly bowed, she struggled not to laugh, the way they do on 'Carol Burnett' when they just can't take any more. I could see the corners of her mouth twitching as she held a curled finger to the underside of her nose, Gil snorted and we all lost it! As we laughed, I managed to push out three words to Gil, "Ha, ha, ha...p-pay....ahaaah, ha, ha.....the....ooh, hoo hoo, ooh, hoo.....p-pickle! Ha, ha,ha..."

Sarah put the painted tomcat into a small chicken wire cage she used to isolate 'special needs' critters. Along with some water and chopped bologna, he'd come to rest for the night just inside the back door. Stuffed and already flat on his back makin' air bisquits, I think he was content there.

Sarah couldn't stop yawnin' and turned in before we'd finished our cake. Gil dropped a pocketful of change into 'Mister Pickles' before helpin' himself to a second piece, "This is so good, Frankie! You eat like this all the time, don't you?" I asked if he wanted anythin' else but, he assured me he'd eaten at a small diner where the bus had run into problems.

"If the bus hadn't gotten that flat", he said, "I'd'a been here for the party. It's what I'd intended. Sure hated to miss it, poor Becka needed all the support she could get today." "Wait, hold up! How could you possibly know that?" "I, uh, I called the Thrift Store to see if anyone there had any news. They filled me in!" "Why not just call here, bro?" "What, and spoil the surprise? No way, dude! Surprising you guys was the whole point to this trip...if only I'd been on time." "Better late than never, right?!" "Absolutely better."

"But speaking of late, it was a long ride and even the delay didn't offer much in the way of relaxation..." "Oh, yeah, right! Sarah laid some linens out, blanket, pillows...you should be all set on the sofa tonight. Tomorrow, we'll tidy up the mess in the spare; it's turned into a storage nightmare lately, you know how it goes?" "It's good to see you, Frankie. Home, safe, happy! Does me good to see that." I heard a quiver in his voice; he almost cried getting that out. "Ditto, Gil. Glad you showed up, brother...I've missed you too. Get some shut-eye, boy! G'night!" "Hey! You see a boy..., he waited for me to join in, I did, "JUST BUTTER MY BUTT & CALL ME 'BISQUIT'!" "You're the best, kid! Now, go to sleep!"

(to be continued in Part 6)

•This is an original work of fiction and labor of love, written by me, Terry G. NUNLEY.

[binniesthighs]

Action Items - Infinity Knot

Infinity Knot - An Interactive SKZ Fanfiction Smut Event 

🌹SOME PREPARATION SUGGESTIONS 🌹

Out of these items, none of them are required to participate in the Infinity Knot SKZ Event, however I would recommend them so that ya don’t miss out on any info! 

Setting an alarm- if you’re the kinda person that gets things slippin’ and slidin’ from your memory (lol as in, me) setting an alarm for posting/polling times helps ya make sure that ya don’t miss a time! But! I’ll have the passages set up for reblog in my queue so that they pass by your dash every few hours or so ;) 

Turning on post notifications- this one is a little less threatening than an alarm haha but it could also help alert ya for when new posts and polls are published :D 

Joining the taglist- if you’d like, i can also help ya get notified by adding you to my taglist for this event! you’ll be added to the Bunch of (Ro)ses at the bottom of the page and will get notified whenever i tag ya in Infinity Knot updates! let me know by sending me an ask before or during the event! 

Double checking timezones- I formulate all my timezones according to the one where I live (CST) and tbh I’m terrible at calculating timezones without a calculator haha (math? who is she?) here’s a link to a really handy timezone calculator! I don’t live in Texas, but you can set it to Austin, Texas because its in the same timezone as me~ 

Double Checking to see if you can access Google Forms- you won’t need a google account to participate in the polls, however it’s good to know beforehand if you’ve got access to this google feature! you can test it out by trying this link

#infinity knot skz #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

[tonyultramusic]

I Needed That

Morning Thoughts

🌤

“Over the last few days I’ve had to come to a realization. Sometimes we get blinded by the process and we aren’t able to work WITH reality because we’re so busy trying to manipulate it. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen off. Without taking that step, you stifle any progress you THINK you’re making. The way to get back on is to first realize that you’ve fallen off. That’s the only thing that will allow you to take the CORRECT steps to get back on the right track. I’ve obviously failed at being consistent, but thats just another chance to get it right!! LETS GET IT!!”

Grind Time 💪🏾🏋🏾‍♂️ 🎧

Prove it to yourself.

Todays To-Do List

Do laundry

Make 2 Beats

Learn Songs for Sunday

Record a Youtube Video

Social Media Glance @tonyultramusic

Twitter

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Instagram

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Memes of The Day

A daily dose of humor 😂

#PLAYLISTULTRA 🎧🔥🌊

Recent ADDITIONS

How much of this is really PLAYLIST WORTHY!?

See which track made the cut to be Playlisted and check out the playlists that your favorite track made it onto!

Mac Miller - Circles - (No Grade Given)

This project wasn’t on the top of my list to check out just because i didn’t want there to be a bunch of sad vibes on it, but it actually side provided me with some dope songs with good rap verses on them as well as some other kinds of vibes that Mac was experimenting with before he was taken away from us. Not going to throw a grade on this one just enjoying the music, and RIP to Mac Miller. 💯

“Slidin’ Music” Playlist

No Entries

“Grind Time” Playlist

No Entries

“Gas Gas” Playlist

Blue World

Good News

Everybody

Hands

“Grown Folks Vibes” Playlist

Woods

Hand Me Downs

ON REPEAT 🎧📀

WHATS NEXT MAYNE!? 🎧🧐

Album Review Playlist Queue

Comment to suggest albums/songs for the playlist! To vote for which albums/songs get play-listed ON VIDEO for Tony Ultra TV, visit my Patreon page HERE: http://bit.ly/2GYakSL

"... I Just Take My Time With All This Shit, I Still Believe in That. I Had Someone Tell Me I Fell Off. Ooo I Needed That..."  -- Drake

#ThrowbackTony 👴🏾

Keeping the classics alive.

With the unfortunate loss of the Legendary Kobe Bryant, his Daughter Gianna and 7 others who were aboard the helicopter at the time, its only right that todays throwback segment be exactly what it is. RIP to all the souls that transitioned that day, and condolences to their families, friends, and fans.

Click Here To GET TONY ULTRA AND PRO.V.ENT. MERCH!! 💧👕👚

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#Ultra #PlaylistUltra #Tony Ultra #@tonyultramusic #Kobe Bryant #Yo Gotti #Moneybagg Yo #Time Served #Untrapped #Shake The Snow Globe #Russ #Lil Wayne #Funeral #Mac Miller #Circles