#still really like the way you drew them in that first picture especially

[asmosmainhoe]

MC draws the brothers

im kinda shy to ask this but, can u make artist!mc drawing brothers and others and them reacting to it?(*´-`)

- @maiitski

Note: This was incredibly fun to write! I also only did the brothers, because I don't write for more than 7 characters in one post

Gender: neutral

Warnings: heavy language

Lucifer

You often draw him when he's working, because then he's absolutely still for hours

At first he doesn't exactly know what you're doing over there with your notebook. The first guess is some kind of study and you're simply looking for some peace and quiet to focus

Once he's done with the mountain of paperwork he walks over to you and glances over your shoulder

Oh wow. The portrait you drew of him looks fantastic and he nods proudly until he notices some special details

"Why are the spots under my eyes so dark?"

"Well, you've been working for hours now."

"I see..my hair looks so disheveled as well."

"You just really need some rest."

A portrait falls out of your notebook when you leave the room and he quickly hides it in one of his drawers. There is no way he won't treasure your hard work

Mammon

To say that it's difficult to draw a picture of the greedy demon is a complete understatement since he's in constant movements

The only time you catch him truly sitting still is when he's counting money after a long day of casino activities

"Look at what I won, MC! Hey, you're not even listenin'!"

"Sorry, Mammon. I didn't notice that you talked to me."

"What are ya doin' anyways, huh?"

His voice gets caught in his throat and he starts coughing violently. Partly to hide his embarrassment

"It l-looks pretty cool."

Translation: THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING HE HAS EVER SEEN

"I can get rid of it if you want me to."

"Are ya mad?! You can't just destroy a picture of the great Mammon! Give that to me."

Leviathan

By now it's routine for you to chill in his room to watch him play in the evening, but sometimes it does get a bit boring. Especially when he's playing a game that isn't your cup of tea

So you take out your notebook and start drawing whatever comes to your mind. This time it happens to be the envious third born

But you can't satisfy yourself with a normal portrait, no. You decide to draw him as if he's a character from the game he's currently obsessing over and proudly show him your work once you're done

You can watch Levi's soul leave his body in real time once he realizes that out of all the cool things in his room you drew him

"I-I can't believe you drew me! Me! It looks so good too! MC, I've got to have this! Please!"

I can see him roll around the room crying and screaming if you refuse to hand over the drawing

Satan

Once he loses himself in a book he turns into a freaking statue

Of course he has seen your drawings before and he absolutely adores them. There are several cat pictures from you hanging on his walls

But seeing you put his own features onto paper is a whole other thing

You manage to make him blush a little and chuckle in embarrassment as he inspects your work

"You're extremely talented. It almost looks real."

As Satan inspects your portrait an idea comes to his mind and a mischievous grin forms on his lips

"Do you perhaps take requests? I'd love for you to draw me tower over Lucifer. Preferably him cowering on the ground while I step on him."

"You know exactly that he will kill me if I do that."

"Oh, well. It was worth a shot."

Asmodeus

DRAW HIM LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH DEMONS

Please, the moment he notices that you're drawing him he's going to strike poses left and right

"Let me fix the light real quick! Oh, I how do I look? Is my hair sitting correctly? Oh, why am I even asking? Of course it does!"

It's not the first time that someone either draws him or takes a picture of him, but with you it's special

Now you have to show him your entire notebook! He has to know if there are more portraits of him!

And there are. Most of them are him in an absolutely relaxed position and often times when he's not dolled up at all

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have gotten ready!"

"You looked the most beautiful in these moments. I didn't wanna disturb them- are you crying?"

"No! OF COURSE I AM!"

Beelzebub

Please, to him you're the most talented artist he has ever seen! And he doesn't hold back with that thought!

One time you drew food just for fun and he ate the entire paper, because it looked way too good. You have to admit that that's quite the high compliment

And Beel has such beautiful and drawable features so how couldn't you put that on a piece of paper?

"Can I see what you're doing?"

The hungry demon gets to lost in it that he's just silent for a very long time. It gets to a point where you worried that he might not like it

"I can throw it away if you want to."

"No, why? I love it."

He never really realized how good he looks until now

"Can I keep it?"

Belphegor

Our sleeping beauty over here is perfect to draw considering he sleeps so still that one might think he actually died

One time you don't even notice that he woke up from his nap and is wondering what you're so focused on

It's only when he leans over to get a peak inside your notebook. You quickly hide the drawings of him, but it's too late for that now. The damage is done and you brace yourself for his teasing

"Wow, you must really like me."

"Shut up."

"This is some Levi-level simping."

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

You guys wrestle over the notebook for a little while until he grows tired of it and lays down again with a yawn

"Fine. Keep your secrets. Your notebook is probably full with my face anyways."

"No."

"Next thing I will find out is that you have a shrine dedicated to me."

"You're such an ass."

"But a pretty one."

---

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me brothers #obey me luci #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me luci x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphie x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

[genericpuff]

oh boy it's that time again

when rachel posts 'video progress' of her work and we proceed to dissect it like a frog in 9th grade science class

like ok first the caption of "is persephone the chicken and hades the egg" makes no fucking sense except to anyone who overthinks it and goes "wait is that a reference to the popularly-perpetuated version of the myth where persephone went down to the underworld willingly and hades didn't actually exist???" because if it is ima scream lmao

but MORE IMPORTANTLY-

Here's the transcript of what she's saying in the video:

"I think I've always wanted to write Hades' and Persephone's story because obviously I really like them. It's like very much a chicken and egg situation because I think in the beginning I thought that I was going to use a very abstract black and white style, and I realized it wasn't very enticing or fun for me, um... and I started drawing these very like vibrant characters and as I drew them I understood more about the story the more that I explored the art style, um and I guess an example of that is, y'know, Persephone is like a very bright color um, and the Underworld, is a very dark dark blue, and so when she says she really sticks out so it's just environmental uh processes like that that really helped inspire the direction of the story."

(despite her expanding on the "chicken and the egg" bit it still doesn't make sense imo lmao)

But what we're seeing isn't S1 LO, it's actually from S3 of LO:

But um... you notice anything interesting about the screenshot I just showed you?

That literally looks NOTHING like what we see in the final panel. At the VERY least I think this goes to show how overcooked it becomes in post-production, when they add the canvas layer and hypersaturate the shit out of the colors, but even the blending technique just isn't matching up?

A lot of what she's doing in this video also feels very... non-existent, like she's brushing her pen around but very little is happening so it feels more like her just putting down random brush strokes to try and make it seem put-together but really she's just kind of pushing colors around and/or doing nothing. Especially when, again, what she's painting here looks nothing like the final picture (so at best it's a lot of wasted work??)

And knowing what we know about the assistants drawing the characters separately so that Rachel can rearrange them in the final episode layout... I don't wanna call foul play here, but this feels like yet another attempt on Rachel's behalf to make her process seem more involved than it is by simply redrawing a scene for the performative aspect of it all. It's like the "sketches" in the books looking way too 'clean' for the final product and giving the impression that she just sketched over the final panels to make them look pretty enough for print.

I also wanna mention that for some reason she's drawing this on her iPad when she owns a Cintiq. It could be because she was drawing this while abroad in the US for her conventions last fall, but despite clearly being ahead of schedule, she still wound up drawing the final episode the night of-

Oh yeah and btw there are like a million clipping layers for what looks like just a simple drawing of Demeter. And this lines up with our previous theories about her using like 128549021809 layers for literally one character.

And aside from all that her commentary, as always, is very nothingburger, just a bunch of word salad. Like she's literally trying to explain LO's color theory as "well Persephone is bright pink and the Underworld is dark blue so she sticks out! That's all you need to know!"

IDK, I'm not coming to any sort of ironclad conclusion based off this one video, but it does feel like yet another desperate attempt to prove that she does work on LO and doesn't just leave it all to her assistants to do at the last minute. But like... she's kind of screwed in that argument either way, because even if she draws the majority of panels in LO, that just further proves the argument that she's stopped trying.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

[randybutternubber]

More goo kid and worker drawings for the like… one other person who remembers them. If you wanna see my first post and drawings of them plus HCs (they’re better than these I swear), you can go through the goo kid tag on my blog. And also one shadow kid snuck in

@mjrdm

I guess I’ll sprinkle in a few more HCS

In the third picture I basically just drew my idea of why the goo kid looks like a burnt up hairball covered in tar. They were chased by a worker(s) into part of the factory that had large vats of that weird goo liquid. The worker ended up attacking them, tearing one of their overall straps, and with no other choice, they took the plunge and proceeded to get lost in the sauce. Quite literally.

The goo isnt something that they can just wash off, especially since they kept putting it back on as a way to blend in with the workers. It’s kind of a part of them now.

The goo ended up blinding them in one eye when they initially fell into the vat

I guess warning for more dark HCs, although I feel like they all align with the darker content in LN

The goo is made up of whatever the workers don’t use from the body of a child, oil, tar, melted plastic and other things that you probably don’t want to be smeared on your body. After a worker kills a kid, they essentially strip their body for parts like fabric, metal or plastic from buttons, teeth, etc. basically any sort of material they can use. Most fabrics and other materials that the workers can’t use are sent up in a dumbwaiter to the chained lady so that she can hopefully find a use for them. Most of the organic parts of the kid can’t be used, so they burn them in a furnace that’s very similar to the one in the maw. It likely has a hand in powering the factory as well. The ash is then processed with some other materials to create the goo. This goo plus some other bullshit or something is how workers are made.

Something something pink sauce McDonald’s

If you actually look at the factory/stone giant as a whole, a lot of it doesn’t actually make sense or should work logically. There are a lot of machines that just shit out their products into god knows where and a lot of them are just needlessly complicated

The reason why goo kid adjusted so well to life in the factory is that they were taken to the nowhere at a relatively young age. The incident with the vat happened shortly after they arrived. They basically grew up among the workers, and while they aren’t really friendly towards them, they aren’t outright aggressive unless they mess with the machines. They probably see them as a defective worker or something.

All workers have mouths, but not all of them have permanently exposed teeth

Workers are VERY fast and able to react quickly, especially to light, but they do still sometimes get limbs torn off by the machine. All workers are ambidextrous, as in they do not have a dominant hand and can use both with an equal amount of skill, so they usually just use their other hand, but since they sometimes use two tools at once, they might use their mouth to carry it or tie it to whatever is left of their arm. The goo can stick to it, but they will usually tear off part of their overalls (most commonly the leg parts/cuffs which is why a lot of workers have torn short overalls) until it grows back.

Goo kid got most of their food from the upper levels of the stone giant- just eating whatever was thrown down into the trash

Workers do eat- but not for sustenance. They use their stomachs as just a place to store stuff. it’s mainly because not all of them have tool belts or pockets, so they might swallow down some nuts (don’t) or bolts or other small objects so they can regurgitate them while working.

Most workers start out decked in the same or very similar clothing (overalls, tool belt, hammer, wrench, etc) but they like to steal from each other, plus it’s a factory setting, and it’s very common for them to get their clothes ripped. Workers do occasionally get new clothing, and while they are somewhat of a hive mind, they do vary in personality, especially when away from others. Some workers also differ visually. They can have all different lengths of hair, unless it’s ridiculously long and gets stuck, which usually isn’t a problem though as the goo mats their hair. Different overalls are usually because the person who makes them, (chained lady or the really weird doll with the sewing machine) sometimes use different materials or different styles

Workers are highly flammable, but do not react if set on fire unless the fire is damaging a machine. Unlike shadow kids who are very scared of fire, workers really just don’t care. It doesn’t hurt them like light does.

Workers are a bit larger than most LN children, it’s just that goo kid is small because he’s younger/just short which might give the appearance in the images of them being a lot bigger

Goo kid wears worker’s overalls but they’re sinched since they’re quite short

Workers can climb on all fours on sheer drops while facing downwards since their feet can twist the other way, similar to a few kinds of cats who can also do this

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares 3 #little nightmares art #noone the sounds of nightmares #the sounds of nightmares #TSON #the workers little nightmares #goo kid little nightmares #goo kid the sounds of nightmares #the shadow kids little nightmares

[archie-sunshine]

Peacetime(Hot Rod Gets Slammed Down Bigstyle)(TF: CYBERVERSE)

SYNOPSIS: Hot Rod is bored during the relative peace that the wall has brought. He comms Soundwave for some fun. Soundwave says Hot Rod can't handle more than a quickie with him. Hot Rod makes an ill advised bet about it. (aka Hot Rod Gets Slammed Down Bigstyle)

Word Count: 4,764

TAGS: Soundwave/Hot Rod, overstimulation, humiliation, degradation, frenemies with benefits, rivals with benefits, face fucking, dirty talk, valveplug, denial, teasing

Author's Notes: spiritual successor to the soundrod art I drew earlier this week. please enjoy!

It wasn’t as if peacetime wasn’t needed and loved and wanted on Cybertron. Not at all, really! Who could complain about a world without fighting, who could complain about a world where for the first time in millions of years Hot Rod didn’t really have to watch his back? 

Well… Hot Rod could. Things had slowed down, people were worrying about stuff like infrastructure and public services and reconstruction. Things were going back to normal but it was a hard sell, especially considering the entire populous was comprised of antsy trigger happy veterans who’s ‘normal’ was waiting for the call to arms. The wall certainly didn’t help either. Tensions were cooled between them, especially since the Quinteson incident, but there were still plenty of Autobots who scowled at the concept of just letting the Decepticons be after millions of years of intergalactic war. 

Hot Rod probably should have counted himself in that number, but he had it on good authority that the Decepticons weren’t all the same sharp, frightening cookie cutter shape that some bots painted them as. It still fragged with Hot Rod’s processor that he could be the type to stand up for the honor of a Decepticon, but… not all of his fellow Autobots had the experience that he did. 

All that complex dichotomy aside, the fact was that Hot Rod had gotten a bit fond of some cons. Particularly the inscrutable, obnoxious Soundwave. He didn’t exactly have a name for what he and Soundwave had, but it was fun. It was thrilling.

It was a series of ill advised hookups that technically broke the laws surrounding the ceasefire wall deal, but Hot Rod liked that kind of danger. It was the same reason he kept getting in bed with a bot that could have- and probably should have- killed him a thousand times over: Hot Rod was a thrill seeker. 

And so, as Hot Rod entered his hab unit and the lights flickered on, he was already in the process of comming the other mech. 

HR: Heyyyyyyy

Hot Rod took a seat on his sofa, flicking on his holovid projector and beginning to flick through the channels. He had to have something to keep him occupied while he waited for Soundwave to respond after all.

SW: What do you want.

Curt, annoyed, and curious were all good things for Soundwave to be in Hot Rod’s opinion. They were a good look on him, even over text. 

HR: You free tonite? ;P

He briefly paused his channel surfing on some old rerun of a- now ancient- cybertronian soap opera. 

SW: Maybe. Why?

Hot Rod raised a brow ridge to himself. Maybe? He pondered the best way to continue for a klik. 

HR: Maybe?

SW: I have work to get done.

HR: Sounds boring. You should come visit. 

SW: You gonna make it worth my time?

Hot Rod grinned, reclining into the sofa and kicking his pedes up on the table. Bingo. He fished around for his handheld transponder, fiddling around to get to a camera function. He let his legs fall apart and brushed a tantilizing servo up the edge of his panels as he snapped a picture and sent it off.

HR: I always do ;0

There was a long pause, maybe a few minutes even. Hot Rod kept opening and reopening their comms chat in his processor, willing a new message to appear.

Finally, after what felt like an hour(but was actually 5 kliks), Soundwave responded. 

SW: I’ll be there. 

It was fun to mess around with a partner like Soundwave, usually mechs and femmes alike were falling all over themselves for a piece of his hot speedster frame, but Soundwave played hard to get. It was- again- thrilling. He didn’t get why he was so into it, but he wasn’t about to examine it either. 

*

Hot Rod stared at the door to his unit, attempting to lounge gracefully(and sexily) as he waited for Soundwave to enter. He’d poured two cubes of engex for them to share, the kind that soundwave liked, the really light blue stuff.

The door to the hab slid open. 

“Glad you could make it, how was traffic?” Hot Rod crooned, attempting to look effortlessly relaxed

“You know I always go through the backstreets.” Soundwave said, stepping in and letting the door close behind him. He strolled up to the couch Hot Rod was reclining on and shoved his legs out of his way before sitting down. Hot Rod looked at him indignantly, wrinkling his nose at him. 

Soundwave ignored the look, picking up his cube and turning his faceplate away from Hot Rod to drink. 

“Things all good on your side of the wall, Wavey?” Hot Rod asked, sitting up and trying to recover with a different sexy pose. 

“Don’t act like you care, drink your engex.” He retorted flatly, gesturing at the cube. 

Hot Rod rolled his optics and picked up his own cube. “You’re no fun.”

“That can’t be true, considering you’re the one who keeps bothering me for a quickie.” Soundwave raised a brow ridge at the speedster. 

“Welllllll it doesn’t have to be a quickie, does it?” Hot Rod flirted, starting to sip his engex. “You could have me the whole night.”

Soundwave snorted. “Please. With your stamina? You couldn’t handle more than 2 hours, let alone the whole night.” 

“I could too!” Hot Rod snapped. He took an indignant swig of engex and folded his arms. “I bet I could run circles around you.” 

Soundwave finished his cube, slamming it on the table and finally turning to face Hot Rod. “Bet you can’t.” 

“Well why don’t we find out?” Hot rod sneered, all flirtation melting away in favour of competition. “We’ll make it a real bet. 50 shanix says I can take whatever you throw at me, 4 hours of whatever you can dish out.”

“Whatever I throw at you? You’re playing with fire, Hot Rod.” Soundwave’s voice had lowered a bit, clearly showing his interest. 

“Well thats fine then, I can take the heat.” Hot Rod boasted.

“I don’t want your shanix.” 

“What?” 

“I don’t want shanix.” Soundwave repeated, shifting a bit closer, looming over the other’s frame. “When I prove you wrong, the next 3 times you need a hookup, you’ll drag your sorry aft over the border to my hab unit and beg me to spike you down in person.” 

Hot Rod’s engine flared, heat coming up to his faceplate. “W-Well alright-! And when I run circles around you, uh- um-” Hot Rod wracked his processor for a good enough punishment. “I get to put it in your port next time we do it.” He stuck his servo out with a malicious grin. 

Soundwave shook it, not letting go when Hot Rod tried to pull away. “You’re gonna regret this, Hot Rod.” 

*

Some had called Hot Rod a bit of a nymphomaniac. It was a bit of a harsh word, and not at all true, he thought about and did plenty of things other than interface. Others called him shareware, which was rude, but… not an unfitting title. Everyone knew he got around, which to some more uptight bots would be considered a mark on his character.

Hot Rod just considered it practice. 

He leaned into Soundwave’s servo as it slid down the top of his crest to the back of his helm. Soundwave’s spike was heavy and thick in Hot Rod’s intake, sleek white and smooth on the bottom with blue ridges around the top. He could feel his cheeks distending from the stretch as he bobbed his helm in the larger mech’s lap. His fans had kicked on a few kliks ago, shuddering to life as his frame fought against overheating. He let the tip of his spike rub against the back of his throat, laving his glossa luxuriously against the underside of Soundwave’s shaft. 

He allowed himself a pleased little hip wiggle when the larger bot stifled a moan from the stimulation, which earned him a tighter grip on the helm and an exasperated scoff. “You’re ridiculous.” Soundwave grunted, rocking his pelvis up into Hot Rod’s mouth and making him choke. He just slid his dermas tighter around Soundwave’s spike and pushed himself down harder. He forced back a gag as it passed into his throat, nearly hitting his vocalizer as he began to nestle his nose against the top edge of Soundwave’s lifted modesty panel. He swallowed around him, flicking his optics up to the other mech’s and winking. 

HR: still think you’re gonna win? 

SW: Want me to stop going easy on you?

Their gaze stayed locked on each other, a spark of competitiveness glinting in Hot Rod’s optics. 

HR: Do your worst, big guy.

The comm had barely appeared in their channel before Soundwave shifted his position, rolling Hot Rod over onto his back with his spike still in his mouth and beginning to thrust deep into the autobot’s waiting throat. Hot Rod let out a choked gurgle. His servos flew up to claw at Soundwave’s thighs. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, I know you can take it like a good bot.” He growled out, steadying himself on the arm of the sofa. The rhythmic clank of Soundwave’s hips hitting Hot Rod’s face filled the room. 

Hot Rod’s optics flickered and thinned out as his fans roared. He could feel his frame shuddering. He was so desperately wet and strained behind his panels he thought he might die. He could feel the pings in his processor demanding him to relieve the pressure, demanding he open his panels and let his array breathe. 

Soundwave slammed in particularly hard, hitting the back of his throat. Hot Rod let out a muffled whine,  his thighs quivering as he fought to keep his throat from spasming. He began to open his panels, hoping to give himself just the barest amount of relief.

A servo jammed down between the gaps between Hot Rod’s panel and abdominal plating, holding his modesty panel shut. Hot Rod’s back arched. A gurgling wail escaped his vocalizer, drowned in intake lubricant. “Ah- Don’t think so~...” Soundwave chuckled, keeping his spike hilted in the speedster’s throat. “You wanna last, don’t you?” 

“Mm-Mghhf!” Hot Rod growled, squirming under the bigger bot. He went to bite down, finding Soundwave’s other servo coming down to jam a thumb between his jaws to keep him open. 

“If I knew you were gonna be this much of a mess,  I’d have asked for more from you.” He taunted, beginning to grind his hips into his throat again. “Keep those panels shut, got it?” 

“Mhhn…!” Hot Rod whimpered, offlining his optics as he willed his modesty panel shut. 

“Good bot… see thats the nice thing about you autobots.” Soundwave grunted, once again beginning to jackhammer into Hot Rod’s throat. “You always do what you’re told.” 

Hot Rod growled indignantly, hoping to sound intimidating and angry. It came out more like a gurgle, spittle bubbling around the edges of his intake. 

“You can’t help it, can you? It’s in your programing, any big bad mech could walk up to you and if he told you to jump you’d ask how high.” He laughed raspily, pulling out almost all the way. 

He watched Hot Rod’s chassis heave and quiver for a moment, trying to get his frame under control. He watched the speedster take a long, heavy in vent, waited until it was about to leave him, then jammed his spike back home. 

Soundwave savoured the desperate choking noise that eked out of Hot Rod’s throat. 

Hot Rod wheezed. His frame felt taught and overheated, processor fuzzy with pings warning him of the stress on his throat and jaw, the strain of his fans, and again, begging, PLEADING for him to open his panels. His digits weakly gripped at Soundwave’s plating one last time before limply petting at the metal there. His frame went pliant and limp underneath him. 

Soundwave laughed to himself breathily, slowing to a halt and carefully drawing his spike out of Hot Rod’s intake. A gush of prefluid and saliva splattered across Hot Rod’s chest. The autobot coughed weakly, glaring ineffectually up at Soundwave. 

“Want me to go back to being easy on you, Roddy?” He taunted, bringing a servo down to stroke slowly at his own spike. 

“N-No chance…” Hot Rod growled hoarsely, sitting up and wiping at his face with the back of his servo. 

“Good bot. Let’s get you to the berth then.” Hot Rod couldn’t get a word in edgewise before he was being lifted bodily off the sofa and flung over Soundwave’s shoulder. 

Hot Rod cycled his vocalizer, coughing again and continuing to wipe his dermas. Embarrassment nibbled at the back of his mind at his messiness. He wanted to flip the positions, try pistoning into Soundwave’s- well if he had an intake he’d frag it silly, see how he liked it. Hot Rod was broken out of his stewing anger by the sound of Soundwave snickering to himself. 

“What-!” Hot Rod snapped, the question cut off as Soundwave drew a digit up the edge of his panels. Oh no. 

“You’re leaking, Hot Rod.” Soundwave sing-songed. He gathered the prefluid up between his digits and rubbed them together absently as he unceremoniously dumped Hot Rod onto his berth. 

The speedster quickly squeezed his legs together around his panels, trying to hide his eagerness. He winced at the feeling, rivulets of slick prefluid smearing against his plating. Soundwave looked down at him, amusement clear across his borderline unreadable faceplate. 

“Shut up…” Hot Rod muttered. 

“You shouldn’t have made the bet.” He chuckled, reaching forwards and effortlessly knocking Hot Rod’s legs apart. He stood between his knees, slowly smoothing his servos over Hot Rod’s armour. “Nice paint job, you buff it before I got here?”

“Pfft… no, you’re not worth the trouble..” Hot Rod rolled his optics. For the record he had shined his armour a bit before Soundwave got there, but that wasn’t even for him! It was… y’know, for someone else.

“Oh I’m not worth the trouble?” Soundwave arced a brow ridge. “So who were you thinking about that made this happen, huh?” Hot Rod hissed as Soundwave knocked two of his knuckles on his panels, optics fizzing and fritzing as his processor produced yet another urgent pressure warning for his array. It was starting to hurt, he could feel his array hot with energon, mashed against the back of the panel. 

“H-hhn- S-soundwave-” He gritted out, clenching his fists. 

Soundwave leaned down to whisper in his audial. “I dunno, Hot Rod, I think this was all me right here…” Hot Rod’s invent punched out of him in a surprised moan when Soundwave ground the heel of his palm against his panels. He dimly felt his processor ping another warning. His engine revved loudly as he arched his back, helm clanging against the berth. 

“But if you’re so sure it wasn’t we can call off this bet right now, call it a draw, let you get your valve pounded out by some other mech, huh?” Soundwave crooned. Steam poured out of Hot Rod’s dermas. 

“N-No-!” He whined out too quickly, his face suddenly even hotter with shame. He went to dismiss his needy beg,“I- hhahhh-” The words fell apart in his vocalizer. His jaw dropped open and his optics went lidded. He ground his hips up, his array burning as Soundwave pressed his modesty panel down against the soft protoform with two digits, slowly moving the panel in little circles. “Ggghh- P-please- Primus- frag- j-ju-just lemme open- S-Soundwave-!” He babbled, gripping at the bigger mech’s sides desperately. 

“Aw… Hot Rod, are you saying… you can’t… take it…” Soundwave drew his words out slowly, venting steam into Hot Rod’s audial. 

“N-no- I can- ah- I’m- Hhuaahh- I’m f-fine- I haven’t evennNnnNn gotten ss-st-started!” He tried to boast, even through the embarrassing moans that he was letting out. Finally Soundwave let up, and Hot Rod went limp against the berth, fans stuttering to vent off excess heat. 

Soundwave leaned back and folded his arms, looking down at the autobot as he shuddered and whined. Hot Rod tried to look aloof and fine, even with the coolant already beading on his brow and the way his frame was quivering like a leaf. 

“S-...See? I’m just fine… completely normal.” Hot Rod panted out, giving Soundwave a shaky smirk. 

“Alright. Open up.” Soundwave ordered, flicking his panels one last time as Hot Rod jolted and glared at him. Hot Rod offlined his optics, body shuddering as he finally opened his panels. He felt embarrassment, hot and thick, gathering in his tanks. His spike shot out of it’s casing like a rocket, already pulsing and drenched in prefluid. His valve was no different, puffy and needy, his anterior node peeking between the plush lips. He was completely soaked, so much so that a puddle of the stuff splattered out onto his berth as his panels tucked away. 

Hot Rod bit his glossa to keep from howling as Soundwave drew a digit up through his lips, over his node, and up the underside of his twitching spike. “Primus you’re easy. Can’t believe you got off this much on me fragging your throat. Maybe I should do it more.” 

“Not on your life- n-not after I win-” Hot Rod taunted feebly. “You won’t be able to walk right for a week when I get done with you-O-OUH-” 

“You’re cuter when you stop talking so much.” Soundwave sighed, rocking his fingers up to rub at the front two calipers of Hot Rod’s valve. He drew his fingers apart, mapping the edges of his yielding hole as he brought them down and together along the edges. 

He pulled his servo back, lifting them to Hot Rod’s waiting intake and jamming the two slick digits in. Hot Rod wined, saliva dripping from his dermas as Soundwave mashed the flavour of his own prefluid into his glossa.

“That’s enough foreplay, don’t you think?” Soundwave teased, cocking his head playfully. 

*

Hot Rod could feel his legs quaking. He felt like he was going to break his dentas from how hard he was gritting them. His fans felt like they were on the verge of melting under their own heat. 

Soundwave stroked his servo up Hot Rod’s spike again, squeezing just enough to milk out another dribble of prefluid. He could feel every burst of steam that escaped the bigger mech’s vents, condensation gathering against the side of the speedster’s helm. He could feel how stretched he was around the decepticon’s spike, but Soundwave refused to move, leaving him impaled on it to suffer as he gritted back his moans. 

“You know, I’m not on this side of the wall often, but don’t worry, I know all about the kind of reputation you have… I hear you pick up so many mechs you might as well be a taxi service..” Soundwave murmured in his audial, spreading his digits over the head of Hot Rod’s spike and teasing the edges. “How many of them treat you like this, huh?” 

“Nnn-N…None-!” Hot Rod gritted out, offlining his optics to focus on venting the heat and not immediately crumbling to a pleading mess. “T-they’re all act-tually NICE to mm-mme!” His voice stuttered as Soundwave drew his digits up again, teasing his slit and massaging the shaft lightly. 

“Thats funny, I didn’t think anyone had the time to be nice to a nasty little piece of shareware like you…” Soundwave growled, slowly grinding his hips up to push against Hot Rod’s soft protoform. Hot Rod bit his derma tightly, clenching his digits around Soundwave’s thighs. That taunt made his processor spin. “They usually use their pretty little valves and toss them aside. Only difference between you and some street walking whore is that you're persistent.” 

Hot Rod let out a moan, finally opening his mouth with a burst of steam. He grit his dentas back together, rolling his hips into Soundwave’s palm as he began to stroke his shaft again. 

“I thought you’d move on after our little hookup but you're obsessed… they say not to humour animals like you so they don’t follow you home.” Soundwave growled, bringing his free hand up to grip possessively at his chassis. Hot Rod keened weakly at the insult, his faceplate flushed bright pink and hot with energon. “But you can’t help it can you? You love it, you love this spike, don’t you?” 

Hot Rod mewled as Soundwave pinched at the base of his spike, rubbing his thumb across his anterior node. “S.. suh- Soundwave-” He gasped, optics sparking. 

“Go on, say it…” Soundwave prompted, stroking his hand up his chassis and taking hold of Hot Rod’s chin. “Tell me how you love it, Roddy…” 

“I- hhhnm..” He moaned. His optics flickered. He was just being unfair now, rubbing at his node like that while he began to gently thrust up into his valve. “I- l–love it-” He huffed out under his breath.

“What was that? Come on, you can do better than that…” Soundwave teased, rubbing his middle two digits against his anterior node while his thumb came around to stroke the base of his spike. He drew his own spike back, slamming it back into Hot Rod’s valve. 

It was like he’d broken something. “I-I LOVE IT!! F-frag! I love your s-spike Soundwave!!” He wailed out, spittle flying from his dermas and across Soundwave’s hand. “I love it- I-I love it ff-fraaaag, primus- please- I- Ohhh s-slaaaggg…!!” His voice bounced pathetically as Soundwave began to thrust up into him. He could feel his spike bobbing in Soundwave’s grip, now squeezed tight at the base. “I’m aa-aallyours, nnhh- nomore- ah- no more s-shareware- f-frag- I’m all yours-!” Hot Rod babbled deliriously. 

Soundwave chuckled in his audial, before speeding up his servo, his spike suddenly beginning to vibrate. To say Hot Rod screamed was an understatement. It sounded like his vocalizer was being shredded, glitching and fritzing and leaping in tone as overload washed through his frame. He thought he might die, his body shaking as he rode out the sensations that refused to let up. Every bit of his wiring tingled with lightning, every ounce of his frame wracked with pleasure. He felt another burst of steam flush over his audial.

“Loser.” Soundwave whispered.

And that was it. Hot rod arched his back, clanking his helm hard against Soundwave’s shoulder as his transfluid splattered across the floor and Soundwave’s hand. His valve cycled down tightly around Soundwave’s spike, pulsing and throbbing. He was distantly aware he was making some pretty unflattering noises, but more than that he couldn’t even see past the cloud of white that overtook his optics. He jerked and crackled, steaming with spent charge as he finished and went limp against the larger mech’s chassis. 

He was ebbing into an early recharge when he felt Soundwave’s servos close around his hips. He snapped back to full consciousness as he felt him swing his frame around until Hot Rod was face down on the berth. 

“Bwuh-?” Hot Rod moaned intelligently. 

“Oh, I thought you could take a full four hours, Roddy!” Soundwave feigned surprise, pulling his spike back until he was teasing the oversensitive node with his tip. “And besides, you still owe me at least one overload.” 

Hot Rod keened as Soundwave slid back in and began hammering into his valve. “Nnnhh-! Oooohhhh Primussss…” He whined, vocalizer shot and hoarse. “I- ah- s-Soundwave I caaan’t!”

“Oh you can’t?” He felt a servo slide from his hips up to his spoiler. Soundwave gripped the delicate bit of metal tightly, using it as leverage to slam Hot Rod’s hips against his. “I thought you said-” there was a quiet fizzle before Hot Rod’s own voice repeated back from Soundwave’s speaker. “I could run circles around you- Didn’t you say that Roddy?” 

Hot Rod let his jaw hang open, processor filled with warnings and popups as overstimulation forced his spike to stiffen. “Nn- Nuh uhh..” He moaned. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell? How about this one?” Soundwave adjusted his grip, hooking an arm under Hot Rod’s chin and pulling him up into a headlock. All the while his hips jackhammered away. He could already feel the blue paint transfers forming on his aft. “-ag! I love your s-spike Soundwave!!” Hot Rod keened in humiliation at his own voice. “That sounds more like you, doesn’t it, shareware?”

“S-soundwaaave- PLEASE-!” Hot Rod wailed. “I C-CAN’T!” 

“I need one last thing from you, Roddy…” Soundwave crooned. Hot Rod could feel his spike twitching inside him, nearing overload. 

“U-uhuhh??” Hot Rod whimpered, clawing weakly at Soundwave’s arms. 

“Admit you’re a big stupid loser.” Soundwave snickered, snapping his hips forwards and making Hot Rod’s optics fizzle. 

A lance of heat shot through Hot Rod’s already overheated form, his body suddenly tense, strung tight with need. Why was all of this doing this to him? He was being… so cruel… “Nn-gguhh-! C-Come onn-!” He whined out. 

“Say it, tell me what a big stupid loser you are!” Soundwave cackled, reaching a servo down to begin jerking Hot Rod’s spent spike. 

“Oh-OH-OH PRIMUS-” Hot Rod wailed. “I’M A BIG S-STUPID LOSER!! FRAGG-F-FRAG- I’M AN IDIOT FOR T-TUH-TAKING THAT BETTT!!” 

Soundwave growled in his audial, pounding his spike in one last time before Hot Rod could feel a gush of transfluid hit his ceiling node. 

He felt his vision white out again as his frame rocked through a second, more painful overload. He felt his processor short and then empty, his optics forcibly offlined again. 

His frame jerked and spasmed weakly until finally Soundwave mercifully pulled out. To say the gush of transfluid that coated Hot Rod’s thighs was embarrassing was an understatement. It was like a fragging waterfall. 

And to make it worse, Soundwave just unceremoniously dropped him on the berth, only adjusting him long enough to make sure he didn’t fall off before beginning to pace around the room. He was making haughty flexing gestures, playing his own personal victory music as he gloated. 

“C-c’mon I didn’t do that bad-!” Hot rod panted, lifting his quivering legs up onto the recharge slab. Without even looking at him, Soundwave flexed over his shoulder, conveniently pointing at the clock on Hot Rod’s berthroom wall. 

Hot Rod paled. “N-no, that can’t be right.”

“Not even an hour and a half, barely an hour and fifteen.” Soundwave confirmed. He did a nasty little turn, waggling his shoulders as he remixed Hot Rod’s words back at him. “C-c-c-c-could run circles arou-ou-OHH PRIMUS!”

“QUIT IT!” Hot Rod shouted, faceplate flaring with embarrassment. 

“-BIG STUPID L-L-L-LOSER!” Soundwave parroted at him, continuing his victory dance. Hot Rod buried his face in his servos, shouting in agony at the embarrassment. 

He felt Soundwave eventually sit on the edge of the berth, shoving him a bit out of his way as he climbed up to relax. He let his victory music die down as he folded his servos behind his helm. 

There was a long klik of quiet between them.

“... you don’t really think of me like that, yeah?” Hot Rod asked meekly. Soundwave raised a brow ridge. Hot Rod Cycled his vocalizer. “Like an annoying animal that followed you home.” He clarified. 

Soundwave glanced away. “... No. You’re not like that.” He muttered. 

“So what am I like?” Hot Rod probed. 

“Tight, wet, and easy.” Soundwave said matter of factly. Hot Rod punched his arm, scoffing and rolling his optics. 

“You’re the worst.” Hot rod grumbled. “I don’t even know why I invite you over.”

“Invite is putting a bit of a slant on it.” Soundwave mused. “I didn’t know begging for spike was an invitation.”

“Ha Ha.” Hot Rod said flatly, shifting into a more comfortable position. “Now shut up I’m trying to recharge.” 

“Oh yeah? I’ll join you then.” Soundwave said. 

“What- No you’ve gotta go-” Hot Rod started, before Soundwave reached over with one harm and pulled him up tight against his frame. He rolled over and squeezed, holding him like a teddy bear. Hot Rod went pink, optics wide and blinking in confusion. 

“Night Roddy.” Soundwave said nonchalantly. 

“Yeah.. uh… Night Wavey.” Hot Rod mumbled. 

Hot Rod offlined his optics, trying to sink into recharge without thinking about how tightly he was pressed against the ‘con. If he wanted he could easily kill him right now, he was already pinned. 

Hot Rod let out a long, quiet sigh, leaning into Soundwave’s embrace. 

Primus, he was glad it was peacetime. 

#transformers fanfic #transformers cyberverse #tf cyberverse #soundrod #soundwave #hot rod #cyberverse soundwave #cyberverse hotrod #transformers #my art #my fic #smut #valveplug

[josephquinnswhore]

i'm having a kinda rough week and i just want pedro and reader lying on a couch in a living room and he's in one of his cozy cardigans, on top of reader while them playing his soft curls, giving him some kissies and he's slowly dozing off

i LOVE your writing<3!! and this is my first ever req to ur blog i hope u'll do it!!

(and i hope u having/had a great day <3!!)

Content

Pairing: Pedro Pascal X GN! Reader

Summary: lazing on the lounge with Pedro is the perfect way to spend your afternoon.

Word Count: 0.8k

Content warning: Fluff! Tiny bit of sadness if you squint. I wrote for gender neutral reader for the first time ever I hope it’s okay!

Note: I’m so sorry to hear you’re having a rough week. I feel you, so imma write this for you. This is the sweater I imagine Pedro wearing. Hope you feel better soon and love this fic 🫶🏼 feel free to send me a message if you wanna talk to someone. Also I’m sorry this is short my brain is fried from being mentally in a bad place :(

After the week you’d had all you wanted was Pedro. Nothing more, nothing less. The stress in your life was building, like a water in a balloon begging to burst at the weight it couldn’t bare, like the balloon, you couldn’t bare the weight on your shoulders any longer.

Pedro had asked what you’d wanted to do today, how you wanted to spend the day, if at all with him. Of course you did, you needed him, he was your lifeline when things got tough. He would guide you through the darkness like a torch with everlasting batteries, as long as you needed him, his light never dimmed.

“What do you wanna do today sweetheart, hm?” The softness of his voice drew you into his comfort, the way his fingers curl around your hair as he scratches your scalp sends tingles down your spine in delight, relieving you of some thoughts that had been bothering you.

“Can we stay inside today, just wanna lay down an cuddle if that’s okay.” You notice how his brows pinch momentarily, you begin to wonder if he had wanted to do something productive today. Before you could start to overthink he takes your hand and leads you to the living room, and sits you down on your couch.

“Of course we can sweetheart. You get yourself comfortable, I’ll put on a movie.” With the palm of your hand, you squish the pillow that’s already on the lounge until it’s comfortable to your liking, it sinks under your head and the pressure that had built in your neck seemed to disappear once the weight of your head was no longer held up.

Pedro turns to you once he’s out on the movie; one of your favourites. The picture on the screen is almost hypnotising, your comfort movie being one you’ve watched hundreds of times, a fine distraction.

“Move your legs sweetheart.” He pats your legs, trying to sit near your feet but you protest, keeping your legs still. “Can you lay on top of me?” You make grabby hands at him and he understands, smiling at you as you beg for his affection, he shifts his body and gently lowers himself down on top of you, you open your legs to make room for his and curl your own around him.

The weight of him makes you sigh in content, he wasn’t worried about crushing you, you’d done this dozens of times; he knew when you’d asked him to do this you really needed it, there was never a time he’d denied your request, how could he? When he could physically feel your body relax u der him, the tension in your body melts like butter. He notices how your breathing always regulates and becomes more calm, no more deep and rushed breathing. The thing he loves the most is when your fingers curl around his hair, especially that spot on the nape of his neck.

“You’re so strong. I’ve always admired your resilience you know, you don’t always have to be so brave for everyone.” Although his voice is quiet, it still rumbles as it vibrates on your chest. The confession is sweet, like honey it sticks; you would remember this eternally. You reply with a kiss to the top of his head.

His head is on your chest, rising and falling with you as you take steady breaths. You reach up and pull the blanket that sits on top of the lounge, adjusting it to cover the both of you as he watches the movie.

You’re too distracted to concentrate on it though, too enamoured by the softness of Pedro’s curly hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck, you feel the goosebumps form on his skin as you do so. His body becomes slightly heavier as he relaxes into you, the weight creating a sensation of something familiar to a weighted blanket, but also weightlessness. You feel calm, like you never had nothing to worry about in the first place.

With your free hand you rub your hand up and down his left arm, he tightens it around your waist as he tucks it under your back, as if he could possibly get any closer. Pedro was losing it, between the fingers tangled in his hair and the gentle caress of your hand on his arm, his eyelids feel heavy, he feels bad for it. He’s meant to be taking care of you, knows how badly you’re feeling and wants to take care of you, but he can’t help it; it’s almost like a spell and he’s compliant in its entirety.

You notice him fighting it, eyelids fluttering open every few seconds and head jolting trying to stay awake, “go to sleep baby.” You mumble. The softness of his sweater between your fingers makes it easy to glide your hand back and forth in a gentle caress.

He had you; he always had you. You were never going to fall with this man in your life; he would catch you, every time, no matter how many times you’d fall. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as his chest heaves and the little snores that escape his lips. Yeah, things would be okay.

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x gn reader #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal rpf #Pedro pascal x you #pedropascal #Pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal request #writing requests

[staarboyyy]

YAYYY YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

I was wondering if you could maybe write something about y/n being an apprentice and Hoffman flirts with them even knowing they are in a relationship with Amanda 😧 It goes on for a while and Amanda gets tired of it, gets really jealous and yells at Hoffman then takes y/n back to her room and… you know 🫣 NSFW, maybe slight choking if you don’t mind writing it (if not that is totally okay!) just some dirty talk here and there also for example: whenever Amanda catches Hoffman flirting with reader she whispers things into readers ear :) Thank you so much in advance!

territory

amanda young x gender neutral reader | specified anatomy

18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni

tags / warnings ; apprentice!reader, jealousy, amanda being a guard dog, anatomical terms for vagina, degradation, dubcon if u squint, biting, sadistmanda

summary ; amanda catches you and mark going over your lastet work.

word count ; 3.2k

a/n; sorry for the delay, i really loved this prompt and writing for the apprentice reader, they are so silly! please enjoy :D

Amanda had a bad feeling about Mark from the start. How could she not? She saw that wicked look in his eyes, that knowing spark every time he glanced at you while you sketched traps aimlessly. He knew that you weren't supposed to be anything more than teammates, but that didn't stop him from trying to turn it into something more - Something like what you and Amanda had. Mark had always been cold, bitter. He spoke the truth with no hesitation, taking in breaths with the intent to speak words meant to silence others in the room. He was a force to be reckoned with to most; And yet as he watched you from across the warehouse, his gaze was disturbingly ... Friendly. Seeing this did not just make Amanda angry, her gaze curiously stuttering past the dooframe just as Mark crossed the room toward you. He squared his shoulders, shoes thudding quietly against the cement floor as his eyes reached the sketchbook in front of you.

You had been drafting for some days - It felt strange, almost like having homework due. John was a tough judge, especially when the traps were made for a truly awful person; In truth you didn't want to dwell on the details of the man this trap was for. He had taken things from women that could never be given back to them, and that was enough to drive your sadistic spark. The spark that made John give a slight tilted grin, not speaking as he steadily nodded, studying your sketches. At first his silence worried you, but when your drafts ended up pinned to the wall near his desk, you took to planning more confidently. It seemed John wasn't the only one to take notice to your determination, your pencil coming to a sharp pause as Mark leaned the weight of his hip into the creaking metal table. His eyes were still lingering on the page, jaw shifting with a slightly tilted head, nearly perplexed at the scratched notes and crumpled discarded brainstorm pages. Not your fault your desk was cluttered. When the inspiration hits you, y'know?

"What is this?"

Mark asked quietly as he moved to grasp and hold up one of the crumpled sketches. It had been discarded because you accidentally drew it comically uneven and decided it was too time consuming to try and fix without a ruler on hand. Mark gave you a quizzical glance nonetheless, looking between you, the warped drawing, and the others on the sketchbook before you. You had originally planned to draw a second picture, a much less fucked up version with the same pose, but you got hung up on the details. A small laugh escapes your throat, lighting up the cold warehouse for a brief moment. Why did he take notice of the wrong sketch? And why did he have to remind you of it's existence? The small pursed smile pushed at the corners of your lips as gave a shake of your head.

"Bad proportions."

"I'll fuckin' say,"

Mark's response suprised you slightly, the way his tone so easily shifted from a cold demanding one to an almost playful chuckle. He gave a slight nod as he re crumpled the distorted sketch, eyes casting over his shoulder to locate the trash can and - Oh. There she was. Amanda stood slightly obscured by a stacked frame of chains, the light of the warehouse casting long shadows across her face. She could feel the distinct searing hot shaking in her fingertips; She had never seen Mark laugh, let alone smile. It left a harshly bitter taste in her mouth, shifting her shoulder to shrug past the hanging chains. Her body moved slow, steps quiet as she approached you and Mark with the stealth of a snake in high grass. Her dark eyes were still locked on Mark's, the way his free hand hovered over your shoulder, how he shifted his body to face yours, the smell of his subtle cologne brushing over your senses. Jealousy surged through Amanda's veins in chilling waves, goosebumps pricking the back of her neck, fingers clenching into fists, knuckles a bright white. No one could have you besides her, this was true. But Hoffman surely had to know exactly what he was doing.

Mark's eyes narrowed when they met Amanda's. He knew that look - An animal primed to kill, a woman who would cage herself over you in a storm of shattered glass without a second thought. He swore a flashing glint of red soared over Amanda's gaze, her attention faltering as it caught the sight of Mark's hand. In one moment, his palm had laid for perhaps half a second on your shoulder, and the next, a shadow cast over your sketchbook, a figure standing directly behind you.

You had grown used to Amanda's silence when walking around the warehouse, yet your body jolted with a sudden twist of fear, moving to turn towards the figure just as Mark pulled his hand away. Your hitching breaths relaxed as you caught sight of Amanda, your expression easing into a small smile. But when she did not return it, it faded from your lips. You immediately recounted the past few minutes - Surely there had been no reason to be angry with you. You've been working, and Mark's been... Ah. The dots connected then as you peered over toward the man beside you, then Amanda once again. The woman wet her lips slowly, tongue rolling over her bottom lip before speaking in a terrifyingly calm voice.

"Having fun?"

Amanda's gaze locked with Mark's, her thoughts flashing with an ugly picture of him with you. Mark shifted slightly, a frown tugging at the edge of his lips. He knew that look in Amanda's eyes. That possessiveness that bordered on insanity. She couldn't place if Mark even knew about her history with you - The countless times she'd press kisses to your cheek in passing, the brush of your thighs when you passed each other, your quiet desperate whispers in her ear promising to keep quiet if it meant she'd touch you. You belonged to her entirely, she was assured of that every waking moment of the day. Every time your bodies tangled together in bed, swimming amongst the sheets to get comfortable, taking in eachothers warmth and staying close, whispering sweet nothings. You were Amanda's everything. She'd flay anyone, any man that tried to ruin that.

"Having a blast." Mark speaks sarcastically, leaning once again against the rusting table, palms splayed over it behind him. "Our friend here was showing me some of their latest work, which I have to say seems promising."

Mark continues, not even looking at Amanda, instead focusing on your drawings. Amanda, for her part, remained motionless for a moment, her expression nearly unreadable, her breathing sharp and steady. Your face flushed, cheeks warming at the sight. In another world, you'd be terrified of that look. Primed to kill, stalking prey with the intent to ravaging it. Her fists curled tight at her side, mouth parted ever so slightly.

"Latest work?"

Amanda echoed, not missing a beat. She still had her eyes locked on Mark. There were no words there anymore, just unspoken emotions that Mark caught wind of almost immediately. He rolled his shoulders, feeling them tense up slightly. He should have known better than to cross claimed territory. That became only more apparent as Amanda's slow pace began once again, coming closer to you both until her hands could rest on both of your shoulders. Her hands were just abit smaller than Mark's, fingers slim and familiar, silver banded rings wrapping over them. They were familiar, warm as her thumbs swept over the backs of your shoulders. It comforted her having you in arms reach, especially with Mark so close by. Her grasp was ever so slightly too tight, fingers flexing over your shoulders as her head cocked, eyes still on Mark. She lifted her eyesbrows expectantly, chin jutting forward slightly, motioning the man to speak with an impatient expression.

"Tch,"

Amanda's possessiveness was so intense, you started to question if that was really a good thing - But the way her hands were now holding you, stroking your shoulder in a comforting caress? That was definitely worth the way Mark began to shift away from you both. There was no helping the way you bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your pulse was picking up pace by the second under Amanda's cold grasp. Her large scarred hands made you feel safe. Each arching scratch or healing nick on her finger tips had a story, one she would tell you with a lopsided grin, nearly bragging. She liked impressing you. Though, she'd never admit it to you without a myriad of stutters and flushed cheeks. Her presence made you feel warm, a space of safe welcoming heat in the middle of this seemingly endless freezing warehouse. You were so comfortable with her hands on your shoulders that you stopped wondering what Mark was feeling. Your gaze cast toward the sketches splayed over your desk, mind dwindling off into all different directions, all leading back to her. Mark was always cold. You and Amanda had something different - The way her breath caught in her throat as she realized you were starting to relax again, the way the fingers on your shoulder gripped tighter just for a moment before she pulled back, as if to assure you she'd be back in no time - you didn't even glance away as Mark's footsteps echoed away down a dingey hallway, presumably to leave for the night.

The feeling of your back hitting the lush mattress of Amanda's bed took the breath away, but how her hands kept your wrists pinned to the sheets made you gasp sharply. The palms pressed softly against your wrists, sending shivers rocketing up your spine, setting your every nerve on edge. Her dark hair curtained over you as her nails gently raked over your body - She cherished every inch of skin, biting her lower lip as her eyes watched you wryly, pinned underneath her. You didnt dare push past this to see through the pulsing haze that danced across your vision from the unexpected rough touch of the other. You tried to swallow your panic down, but nothing could be done to keep the soft whimper from escaping your lips; It pulled a low purr from the woman, tutting quietly before bringing an index finger to her lips, a motion to stay quiet. Amanda leaned down then, her whispered words catching the shell of your ear as she leaned more of her weight into you.

"Shh... You know exactly what you were doing. Don't try to fight me now."

Your eyes darted back and forth, body shivering with equal parts need and fear as she chuckled darkly. The sound was pillowed with a dark intent, lips moving to trace over the warm skin of your neck, lightly glazed with sweat. There was a moment where it felt like you were going to pass out from the thrill of being Amanda's plaything, but then her lips pressed gently against your throat, tethering your mind to focus on her. The way her tongue slid over the sensitive space of skin, teeth gently sinking down, reeling a quiet squeal from your chest. It only made her bite harder, though perhaps you knew that; Perhaps she was right. You wanted to play cat and mouse? So be it.

You squirmed at the slowly building pinch on your throat, back arching as arms fighting ever so slightly against Amanda's weight. After a long moment, the pain subsided, her tongue sweeping over the harsh bite before sitting up slightly. Her eyes were locked on yours, though she was clearly looking through you, to some private joke you were not exactly privy to. Her eyes slid down your body slowly, her left hand releasing one of your wrists to dive underneath your shirt. It seemed a dangerous gamble, taking the chance that she'd see your skin bare, chest rising and falling with frantic gasps of desire, like this. But then, Amanda had been a risk taker - And in this moment, there was nothing more you wanted, those poisonous moments where every sensation she caused seemed to leave a permanent mark on your body and mind. She molded you, carved you like granite as she palmed your chest greedily, one of her legs shifting to spread your own. Her knee pressed lightly against your clothed heat, applying slight varying pressure with a watchful eye; She always loved to see exactly what made you tick. What made your back arch and breath hitch with a carnal spark. She craved to have that practiced to a muscle memory, to turn you mindless in the palm of her hand whenever she chose fit.

"God you're sick huh?

You tried to say something in defense, maybe even a witty quip to get her to smile again. You loved when she smiled in moments like this; Between the passion, the rough bites and harsh words - It was nothing less than love. She knew how much you adored her like this. Dominant, protective, trigger happy with anybody who dared get too close to you. But you were breathless, body shuddering with the pleasure her touch brought. You were at your most vulnerable underneath the woman; Even with no way out, you could think of nothing better than being right where you were. Not much else mattered except for the feeling of both her hands sweeping back down your chest and stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. It wasn't until her finger tips hooked around your belt loops that your dazed eyes focused. Her fingers were slim, scarred, veins lacing over the back of her large hand and muscular forearm. She pulled away your pants with a bite of her lip, kicking them away with distinct impatience; She wanted to taste you.

The cold air chilled your lower half as she worked at your jeans, a soft chuckle following as her finger tips glided over your hips, dipping into the waistband of your underwear. She took more deliberate care with these, her fingers finding the exact mark in the fabric to pull them down, leaving you fully exposed. She wasted no time in exploring the full breadth of your bare front, leaning slightly downward to press soft kisses along the hard pulse of your left thigh. It was maddening, feeling the woman in her element as she lavished attention on your vulnerable skin, biting like a starving animal; Arousal spun your mind, her hot breath and desperate tongue so close to your needy cunt.

You couldn't think through the fog in your mind - Only feel. Only see. Her fingers danced across your skin in search of its most sensitive areas, leaving strewns of light bruises on the soft of your thighs. Hands swept over your thighs with surprising gentleness, positioning your legs to rest on her wide shoulders. She didn't let them linger there, letting go to slip those same palms over your ass, pulling you closer to her with yet another dark snicker. The air in your chest seemed to catch fire when she spoke, her whispered breath causing your hips to sutter forward, whimpering needily.

"I haven't even touched you yet... You think Mark could make you this fucking pathetic?"

It was a sharp question, despite being spoken in one of the softest tones you've ever heard from the woman - She gave you no time to answer, let alone recover before letting her tongue dip firmly into the space she whispered into.

“You're mine,” She murmured, letting her senses all fall away from her head, her spiraling thoughts. She was quick to pull your legs apart from one another, letting his tongue ease over your cunt, starting down firmly at the base, one of her thumbs moving to spread you open gently, to let all her have complete access to you. You gasped sharply, instinctively trying to close your thighs at the sudden electric euphoria lashing at your senses. Yet when her teeth grazed over your clit, your breath hitched tightly in your chest, gazing down at her working at your cunt with the desperation of a starved animal. A groan vibrated into your heat, and you let your head fall back, propping yourself up with her elbows as beads of sweat rolled over your temples. Your eyebrows knitted together, one of your hands reaching to the back of Amandas head, hoping for everything that she wouldn’t stop no matter what you said.

“Fuck - 'Manda!”

You strained the words, your hips shaking slightly as Amanda pulled your clit firmly between her lips, the fingers once used to hold you down had been moved to ease into your cunt, her index and middle fingers sliding in with little resistance. You felt so full just from the pair of fingers, and when she curved them upwards, you could feel your thighs trembling, biting your bottom lip. The quickening tips of her fingers reached that perfect spot, the one that you could barely reach by yourself. You tossed your head over the sheets, your fits gripping the blankets beside you so tightly you could feel your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. Amandas tongue worked wonders over the small area, her fingers keeping the repetitive motion inside of you; You felt a small fire start to rise in your lower stomach, spiking up into your veins, clouding your vision with stinging tears - Your body screamed for release, your moans aimless, begging Amanda not to stop.

          Your squeals always seemed to motivate her more than anything else. Amanda used her free hand to pull one of your legs up onto her strong shoulder, leaning herself deeper into you - So willing to make you come undone just from her fingers and tongue alone. A smile reached over her lips as she pulled her mouth from you, her fingers not wavering.

      “That's it...” She murmured, her dark eyes piercing deep into yours, expression contorting, able to see you finally cum around her thick fingers. Your eyes watered with the immeasurable amount of pleasure that reigned over your senses, head spinning, saliva falling from your bottom lip. Amanda shuddered out a sigh at the sight of your twitching heat, her thumb rubbing over your senstive clit harshly now, post orgasm. This caused you to try and pull away once more, head shaking instinctually. The sensitivity was too much for you, a strangled sounding out cry made Amanda chuckle casually, her teeth now nipping at the insides of your thighs as you rode out your forcefully coaxed orgasm.

When Amanda removed her fingers, she eased her tongue over them, humming with approval, eyes not leaving your dazed expression. She let your trembling leg slide off her shoulder as the air filled with your unsteady gasps, hardly able to put words together as the woman before you moved to sit on the bed beside you - You tried to move, lifting your shakey hand, finger tips numb from your shallow breaths, yet Amanda shook her head and returned your hand back in place. You needed rest, even as she pulled you into her arms and wrapped her thick quilt over your shoulders, keeping you in her lap while she gingerly offered you water and pecking your cheeks and head with kisses. Amanda would spoil you until the end, even if it meant reminding you exactly who you belonged to every once in a while.

#amanda young x you #amanda young x reader #amanda young x oc #amanda young x female reader #saw amanda #amanda young #saw #saw franchise #saw x reader #mark hoffman #hoffman #slasher #slasher x reader #bowies fics #amanda saw #amanda young x gn reader #gender nuetral reader

[littlegreekhero]

Tim Drake is so short it’s unrealistic: an explanation

In every single comic page featuring more than one adult, Tim is drawn exceptionally short (well Damian too but he’s still a pubescent boy) for mainly composition reasons, I think. You can’t really create a great standing composition with five heads at the same level so they exaggerate the difference. What does this leaves us with? A Tim in his late teens, at a whopping 5 foot and 6 inches of height (source: fandom wiki). This means he must be a certified short guy. Except, he kinda isn’t?

When he is shown with his peers he’s closer to the average height, like in YJ. So why do I think his stats are like this in fandom wiki or he’s drawn like that? I think editors and artists have never seen a teenage boy in their life and they think the younger the age the shorter the person is, linearly. My point is also supported by the fact that he doesn’t have adult proportions of a short person but an average person’s proportions, just shrunk down.

We are the same height for reference. The beginning of high school is the time for men to have their growth sprout and they all end up as their forever height by junior/senior. I’d argue that I’m not simply short-phobic and that artists seem to just ignore this phenomenon. Oh and his weight seems unrealistic considering his height-weight ratio and muscle mass so the second picture is possible to happen. You don’t need to be Kon-el to effortlessly pick that boy up.

So how tall do I think he realistically be? Closer to 6 foot. Because I think we’re ignoring the second greatest factor.

Wealth! He was raised rich, he was well fed during his developmental ages. Even if he had short height genes, his entire lifestyle would make him proportionally taller. There is VISIBLE difference in average heights in wealthy versus poor neighborhoods. Students notice that private school kids tend to be taller. Students (in my country) get weirded out once they realize historical figures that lived in hard times were way shorter than them. Unless he was an extreme case of picky eating, I’d say let’s add at least a few inches. His recreational activities also consisted of rich people stuff. The training he got, the amount of time he spent inside (probably playing games on powerful PC’s, not doing manual labor, not having a neighborhood friend group to run around with and stuff) not burning calories all played a role in the body he ended up with at adulthood. Yeah, he kind of did vigilante stuff since the age of 9, but at the end of the night it was Wayne Manor that he returned to.

BONUS: I think all batkids would have a different height when accounted for environmental factors, I just drew the four Robins to demonstrate

Jason: the wealth point that I defended earlier would work the opposite way for him, so why did i draw him the tallest? ✨growth juices✨ in the Lazarus Pit. I’m also not completely erasing their canon heights and body builds, and dude’s a hunk.

Dick: gymnastics makes you shorter. I thought this was a coincidence but apparently it’s real, especially in women’s gymnastics it’s very noticeable. He was trained since a very young age and did not stop practicing after he left the circus for apparent reasons.

Damian, at 14-15: He would hit his growth sprout a few months maybe a year later than his peers. Why? He’s Arab and even though I did no research on this, I think my experience as a Middle Eastern would account for a decent observation. But when he hits it, he would get noticeably taller EACH WEEK. I only attributed him a numbered height so I could show that he was close in height to his brothers. (Not related to height, but at his age he would have a massive nose with a sharp nose bridge, as it grows first, I remember many of my classmates were very self conscious about their noses in middle school)

#tim drake #batfam #dc comics #batfamily #dc robin #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #red robin #dcu #timothy drake

[dumbf1sketches]

hi!! i need you to know that when you draw, you stylize lando and oscar perfectly. you have a great handle on their likenesses and the way you draw them is gorgeous :)

I know you sent this days ago but every time I think about it in my inbox I get the goofiest boost. It's one of my biggest insecurities about drawing them, especially when one of my first pictures I posted were extremely referenced from photos of Lando- I felt I had to continue posting THAT level of likeness or people would be like "oh, bit of a false advertisement, that's disappointing!". It stops me drawing a lot 😅

I love doing those kind of drawings, they're easy to switch off and just follow the photo, though I find them a lot harder if I'm drawing 2 people in the same pic. I also really really like to be able to bash out a cute stylised drawing where I don't worry too much about likeness beyond the shape of Lando's eyebrows and the roundness of his chin, Oscar's nose and throat freckles 😂 i usually have several reference photos open, even if I'm not married to getting a likeness, I feel like it still translates a little. I know you most definitely did not ask, but let me stick some in progress pics of my latest one to kinda explain.

It started totally unreferenced (as usual, because if I'm worrying about getting a likeness from the get go, it's destined to end in tears), and sometimes I am more than happy to leave it this level of vaguely-them, but it was my first drawing in a while and I wanted to aim a little higher.

Bottom right was the original unreferenced Oscar refining attempt- fantastic, I accidentally drew George Russell! I screeched at Jess about it for a while, cursed George now having a similar hairstyle to Oscar because that was my old go-to, and pulled up a photo.

Made his eyes a bit squintier, softened his chin and nose (though looking at it now, do I prefer the old one a bit more?) and it looked, if not more Oscar, less George at least 😅

Okay, god, sorry you probably didn't expect such a rambling response!! But this is something I've been wanting to address for a while without sounding like I was fishing for compliments or reassurance, and your ask was kind of perfect, so thank you on several levels 💕

#tldr: expect wild inconsistency from me #art process #my art #landoscar #ask

[kaylawritesfics]

can you write some headcanons where you're johnathans twin sister or something and your dating Steve?

Dating Steve Harrington and Being Jonathan’s Twin Sister

headcanons

summary: what it’s like to date steve “the hair” harrington while being a byers kid

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader (byers!reader)

WARNINGS: mentions of canon typical violence, plot inconsistencies bc i have the memory of a goldfish

note: gonna try not to make this one as annoyingly long as my steve x henderson!reader but we will see !! this has no spoilers for stranger things 4 bc truthfully i don’t remember it enough to write the plot out

You and Steve definitely did not get off on the right foot at first. “King Steve” and his obnoxious friends relentlessly tormented your brother, going as far as breaking his camera.

Tommy H and Carol teased you sometimes, as well, but your friendship with Nancy Wheeler protected you from receiving the same torment that your brother received.

When you found out your younger brother, Will, had gone missing, you and Jonathan found comfort in each other, both of you recognizing the horrible and frankly, insane state your mother was in.

Steve had even (reluctantly) brought over a casserole, which he claimed was from his mother, but in reality, he and Nancy spent hours looking for recipes and had multiple trial casseroles waiting at home to be eaten.

After seeing how caring and sweet Steve really was, your feelings for him began to change. You really appreciated his help and support while things were going to hell in Hawkins.

After Will was finally home and things were relatively back to normal, you and Steve had even started a small friendship, much to your brother’s distaste. However, even Jonathan didn’t hold much of a grudge against Steve after they reconciled.

You were especially thankful the following year, when Steve had taken the party under his wing, protecting them when things started to go to hell again.

Around the same time, Steve and Nancy’s relationship came to an end. You noticed Jonathan and Nancy had been spending more time together as well.

While Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer, Steve became a support system for you. While Jonathan was seeking comfort from Nancy, you found yourself frequently wrapped in Steve’s arms.

Obviously, in a purely platonic way. Steve was a great friend, a fantastic friend, even.

These new relationships greatly confused you and Jonathan.

“What’s up with you and Nancy?” “What’s up with you and Steve?”

Even though the situation is a little confusing, Jonathan is the biggest Y/N and Steve supporter. No matter how many times you explain that your relationship with Steve is completely platonic, Jonathan still doesn’t believe it.

“Yeah, right. You don’t see the way you look at him.” “Jonathan, I swear to god”

Even Will joins in, teasing you about your “nonexistent” crush on Steve.

“I drew this picture for you. There’s you, me, and Jonathan, and then over here is Steveholdingyourhand” The words rushed out of his mouth and he held back a laugh as you grumbled but still took the drawing.

Steve loves coming over to your house. His house is so quiet and cold. He thinks your house feels more like a home. Even though it’s small and sometimes a little messy, he thinks it’s cozy and warm.

He also loves Joyce and Will. Joyce has this need to take care of any kid who walks into her house and Steve is absolutely at the top of the list. His mother isn’t like that at all so he definitely basks in the attention.

Will makes Steve wish he had a younger sibling. He tries to spend as much time as he can with Will. Next to Dustin, Will is the kid in the party that Steve is closest to. Will loves Steve and appreciates that Steve listens to him and lets him ramble on about DnD, his favorite TV shows, etc.

The next summer, Steve takes a job at the new Starcourt Mall. You like to visit him at work, coming to order ice cream at least 3 times a week. Sometimes, you take Will with you.

Robin bugs Steve about you for weeks, encouraging him to ask you out.

Of course, right when he finally builds up the courage, things start to get bad in Hawkins again.

You and Steve don’t reunite again until after the Battle of Starcourt. While the Scoops Troop were infiltrating secret Russian bases, you and the party were focused on whatever the hell was going on with Billy Hargrove.

You’re sitting outside the burning mall when Steve approaches you. Your mom, Will, and Jonathan are all okay and everything feels like it could relatively go back to normal.

You notice the cuts and bruises littering his face and the bags around his eyes. His hair is falling in front of his face and you tenderly push it back for him. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you in for a hug that lasts suspiciously longer than usual.

“I love you.” He spits out quickly before his adrenaline rush wears off. He’s frozen and it feels like it takes centuries for you to respond.

“I love you, too” He releases a breath, leaning down to kiss you softly.

A few feet away, Will nudges Jonathan, pointing to the scene in front of them. Jonathan groans, squinting his face up in disgust at the sight of his sister locking lips with Steve Harrington.

“You owe me $20.” “Yeah, yeah, I know” Will smiles proudly, glad that at least something good came out of this disaster.

Jonathan and Steve weirdly become pretty good friends after this. While Jonathan is still fiercely protective of his baby sister (who, in reality, is only 3 minutes younger than him) and would kick Steve’s ass for a second time if he had to, they find out that they actually have a lot in common.

Steve fits right in with your family. He’s very respectful and kind and they all love him so much.

#adding a read more tag later don’t worry #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x byers!reader #dating steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington imagine #stranger things headcanons #stranger things imagine #stranger things #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x sister!reader #jonathan byers platonic imagine #jonathan byers imagine #will byers #will byers x sister!reader #will byers platonic imagine #will byers imagine #byers!reader #joyce byers #byers family #stranger things byers #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler imagines #nancy and jonathan #nancy and steve #steve and jonathan

[lpanne]

My Cross Stitch Journey

I think i've been cross-stitching for over 25 years at this point and i just wanted to chart my journey and make a couple of notes about the latest step i've taken (no longer caring about the back being perfectly neat). I'm not saying everyone's journey needs to be like mine, but i just want to share somethings that i've only discovered in the last year as i'm wondering if i just missed it being commonly available knowledge or if my sharing what i've learned will be helpful to others.

So the rest of this post below the read more will be about ways to make stitches look neater, but will lead to a messier back.

Again i want to preface this with you can have beautiful cross stitch pieces without doing any of the things i'm about to discuss. This is meant more as an explanation of why stitches get wonky sometimes even when you have figured out getting your threads to lay flat and stitching all in the same direction.

First, I learned that once you finish a stitch, the next place you bring your needle up through can have a huge impact on neatness and the ability to stitches to fill in areas next to previously stitched sections.

So in the above picture i have drawn a completed cross stitch where the top arm started on the upper left and went back down into the cloth on the lower right. So if i'm going to start a new stitch i want to start in one of the green holes or if i had to yellow. Not red. If you bring your needle up through one of the red holes it will make this completed stitch's top arm elongate and lead to messiness. It is especially bad in you go for the bottom far right hole. Also if you are going to stitch around this second with a second color getting your needle through a hole with an elongated arm can sometime be an issue.

Also, i only highlighted the closets holes, but if you are going to start a stitch further away think about what direction you are pulling your thread and will it be passing under the cloth near the red or green holes.

Second, I realized that making sure your top stitch all are stitched in the same way is very important. I don't mean having all your stitches having the top arm being upper left to lower right verse upper right to lower left (that is important too, but i feel like that information was one of the first things i was told). I mean that in a section try to maintain for the top arm upper left to lower right and don't mix in lower right to upper left. This can pull the stitches in a weird way and can make them look messy (if you are looking super closely). See below for an illustration. The numbers are the order of steps the needle took in and out of the cloth.

In this illustration i only drew one of the arms as it was easier to see, but caring this much is only super important for the top arm. Also to call back to my earlier point in the bottom half going from step 2 to step 3 would be having the needle going into one of the red holes i outlined in the first diagram which again can lead to some elongation of stitches.

Sometimes i don't follow these suggestions but i am more aware of these issues, and i am watching for times when i ignore them and i try to mitigate the issues like the example below.

So what do i do in patterns that have an outer line of stitches like my kyubey pattern? i really like the danish method of stitching (stitching a row of arms in one direction and then going back to the start of the row with the crossing arms); however, this leaves you at the beginning of where you were stitching. So i came up with this method to be able to still kinda danish stitch but end your thread at the other end of the row. (The colored lines are the thread on the back side of the cloth.) This is a very niche solution but it is helpful in some instances like the above example.

you will see that i'm doing something i said not to do above. I am mitigating the issues though by having the top arm being the one that is following the suggestions i wrote above. Not following the first suggestion on the bottom arm can make stitching around that area a little harder but it won't look as weird as having the top arm being elongated.

#cross stitch #tips

[tongue-ttied]

my avatrice headcanons cause they’re adorable:

-Ava was the first one to call Beatrice her best friend

-it made Bea’s heart warm and happy knowing she’s that important to Ava, but also sad thinking that’s all she was to her

-Ava wants to know everything (especially little things) about Beatrice so she asks her a lot of questions; she now knows her last name, middle name, zodiac sign, birthday, shoe size, favourite food / colour / animal / song / movie / book, if she’s ever had a pet, if she’s ever broken a bone, etc

-Beatrice learnt to cook at boarding school, Ava can barely boil water

-Beatrice cooks while Ava sits on the counter and snacks on the food

-Ava plays music really loudly in the apartment

-Ava takes a TON of pictures especially of Bea

-Beatrice rereads the same book over and over again because it brings her comfort

-Ava was so excited to drink coffee but she found it way too bitter at the cats cradle and hated it

-Ava drank hot chocolate instead of coffee for the first month in the alps until she found out you can add flavoured creamers to coffee (she still prefers hot chocolate)

-Beatrice drinks a lot of tea, Ava takes a sip every time and hates it every time

-Ava stops to pet every dog or cat she sees

-Ava’s obsessed with cows

-Beatrice has warm hands, Ava has cold hands (i know everyone thinks the opposite but this just makes sense to me)

-Ava always tucks her cold hands up the back of Bea’s shirt to prank her

-when Ava and Beatrice stayed at Jilian’s house they shared a room ; Beatrice helped Ava settle in and then went to leave but Ava shyly asked if Bea could stay with her since she was used to them sharing the same space

-apartment had one bed ; Beatrice offered to sleep on the couch

-eventually they share the bed, Ava loves to cuddle, she curls up into Bea, tucks her cold toes under Bea’s legs, tucks her cold fingers into her shirt, tucks her cold nose into the crook of Bea’s neck

-at first Bea internally freaked out every time Ava did this, but now she can’t sleep without her

-when Beatrice reads, Ava always sits next to her and asks her 100 questions about her book

-after a while when Ava would sit next to her she’d start reading out loud for her, Ava then started laying her head on Beatrice’s lap to listen

-Ava takes a lot of naps / she can fall asleep anywhere

-Beatrice can draw / she totally drew Ava sleeping on their couch

-Beatrice can sing but she’s too shy so she only does it when she thinks she’s alone / Ava’s caught her singing a few times and it’s her favourite thing ever

-Ava always buys trinkets and knickknacks from every little shop she goes to in the Alps to decorate their apartment

-Ava always steals Beatrice’s shirts and sweaters cause she says they’re comfier (she just likes how they smell like Bea)

-Ava tried to cook Bea pancakes and burnt them

-Beatrice got a cold and Ava acted like she was on her deathbed / was a helicopter girlfriend and totally babied her while taking care of her

-Beatrice still has all of Ava’s clothes so she started incorporating some of her pieces into her own wardrobe

-Beatrice still reads out loud even though Ava isn’t there to listen

#avatrice #warrior nun #ava silva #sister beatrice #ava x sister beatrice #ava x beatrice #beatrice x ava #gay #lgbtq #wlw #headcanon #netflix #love #couple #slow burn #alba baptista #kristina tonteri young

[dollsinvogue]

Don’t get me wrong I actually love mermaid dresses and I think it actually looks good on this rendition of Sally…but I’m bored. I think this is the fifth or sixth mermaid dress we have from monster high skullector dolls now and while I do still think it looks good on Sally, I feel like it’s not her.

Now let me start by saying I’m a huge Nightmare Before Christmas fan so I was not happy when these dolls were teased because I had minimal faith (sorry mattel!) but I’m actually very very happy about these designs. Do I think they could be better? Yes and that’s what I’m going to talk about in this post.

First thing first. Mermaid dress. Nope. I actually wholeheartedly believe that the dress in the first image below is what inspired her Skullector dress (I also think that the figurine pulled it off better but I believe it’s because of the long skirt, I would personally not be a big fan if a collector doll had a long skirt that covered the shoes, especially for a brand like monster high who makes some of the most incredible shoes!)

(I believe all of these figures are official Disney figures, somebody please correct me if I’m wrong)

These bottom looks (specifically the last one) is what I really leaned into and would have preferred, I drew up a little sketch of a dress I think would have fit her better.

I think her gown should have had a larger skirt, the whole reason that her original dress looks scrappy is because it’s literally made from scraps that she finds I think that they could have kept the scrap patter but given her more volume, the sleekness of her actual skullector dress seems like they’re trying to use minimal fabric which isn’t super fun for a collector doll. On the sides of her skirt I have her little fabric pieces that match Jack’s iconic pinstripe pattern and the tendril (?) bits he has on his skullector outfit, I think it’s a nice way to make them look cohesive instead of the orange and black striped thing they have going on.

I LOVE the mesh on the bottom of Sally’s skullector dress and in my reimagining of her that is still absolutely there but perhaps underneath the main skirt or even overtop where the spider web bit is at the waist.

The first thing I did when I saw this doll was zoom in and check for raw edges and I actually laughed when I didn’t see any. Mattel you have given us several skullector dolls with raw edges and the time that you actually make a rag doll character who has ripped and sewn fabrics YOU DONT GIVE HER RAW HEMS?? Don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining but it’s just hilarious to me because this is the one time they could really get away with it and I would just shrug and not be able to complain.

Last things I would change about these dolls are; give Jack a little top hat or something, I think it would add a dramatic flare which is what we should expect, it might not stay on his very round head and I would not want them to use a peg of any sort though (seriously doll companies, think about utilizing magnets.) The red on their shirt and hair seems so loud it’s almost glowing, it’s a bit weird to me but it could just be pictures and contrast. And lastly …WE SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN ZERO 🥲 imagine how cute a little see through Zero (think like Rhuen) would be!!!!

#okay i’ll shut up now #I feel very passionately about tnbc #monster high #monster high skullector #doll collector #dollblr

[howlsnteeth]

hi, just wanted you to know that if you ever wanted to like. interest-dump about cotl and your thoughts about the lore/storyline and stuff as ive seen you show in your art, id read PARAGRAPHS. im so curious and love to hear about people's interest in game/story/media lore and the interpersonal relationships within the universe!!! - from an autistic system who has loved your art since like. forever. (u can call us moss)

okay hi moss :3

i'm kind of due for an infodump on my cotl headcanons, so! i'll try be somewhat concise because this is going to be a long post anyway rip. i drew some pictures :D

(i can't really think of any warnings to give outside of usual cotl themes/killed race/dying/blood/etc but let me know)

obviously watching the destruction of your entire race is traumatic as fuck, also because it likely took a few weeks or months to achieve. so they died pretty underweight/weak bodied/pretty shut down. the bishops are gone by the time lamb is revived by toww, and their body hadn't quite made it to a 'body pit' (or food pit). still, they get Their Bell from another of their race on the way out. probably weren't thinking about it too hard and just desperately wanted to grab something while their eyes burned in their sockets and this red crown fit like molded clay in their hand. my lamb has a little notch out of their left ear which was caused while escaping, which ends up never healing because of a few reasons but mostly because i like it.

over the course of the game/story they start to slowly physically change. after revival it takes scars a Long time to fade, considering lamb is technically a walking corpse, and also because of their affiliation with Death (narinder, who has similar i'll mention later). they get dark marked lines under their eyes from that classic 'bleeding eyes' action during rituals/etc. their ears but especially horns get longer and sharper. their way of coping is similar to most lambs, jokes and pulled punches.

by the end of the 'main game/toww fight,' they've already made their choice, and start flexing their control/communication with the red crown itself. it gets harder for toww to view through it, and lamb gets somewhat intoxicated with the idea of an ultimate revenge, having killed all the other bishops. they've done everything they can to stop their cult members noticing signs of weakness, but as things get more stressful this kind of rubberbands around to them seeming extremely unstable. by the time they go to fight toww they're muttering nonstop, barely aware, and also they let their wool get longer and basically end up with a mullet. <3 because it's funny to me

they obviously beat toww and for them it's like a smashing of clarity, like a gripped handle let go, standing up from the river of blood. it's freeing but also the most pain they've ever been in. and instead of killing toww this pit in their stomach spares him. lamb went from a corpse to a god and now, in some sick way, they want to watch a god turn into a living corpse, just like them. because with every other sheep dead, narinder is the only one with a connection to that genocide, the cause of the other bishops doing it.

narinder hates their fucking guts. obvs. he thinks, or knows, that lamb is doing it on purpose. but narinder's body hasn't been normal for far, far too long. even before he was made death (as in artworks i've done with him), his body turned skeletal and rotted away. lacerations open all over his body, but especially down his front torso. when he's first brought to the cult, lamb gives him red robes, also because of this 'problem'. but narinder does every single thing he can against them. he gets white robes and lets them turn bloodied and disturbing to everyone around him.

even washing them stops working, and lamb does resign slightly to letting him sit in his dirty stupid robes. it's the pettiest shit. narinder also keeps his veil, and lamb can't bother with a reason to take it away. let that dumbass keep his yuck robes and veil. you can only stick him the stockade for a week before your other followers get too concerned.

over time, they do end up getting closer, but it comes from a place from both being touched and changed by Death, the red crown, and the choices of the other bishops. it takes a really long time and only after all the other bishops have been recruited (another whole thing). both of them catch themselves enjoying little things, and then having moments of all the pain bleeding through. an example is over time narinder does end up wearing darker robes, but it's fairly gradual. in this piece, it's lamb getting too deep in the countless lives that were taken from their race, triggered by blood (a whole little story thing), and narinder does make the (semi subconscious) choice to wear dark robes.

anyway you're probably looking at that giant shadow in the picture huh. it takes a long time but lamb Does end up truly becoming a bishop.

not 100% done with this design, but it has the basics. their main horns end up breaking off (thinking of a story behind that still). the main thing with them that i really like is they have multiple strings of bells on them. so everyone starts associating the sound of ringing bells as Death. so if you hear them, they're coming for you. that being said, they also have the ability to move completely silently, despite being covered in bells. which adds to the scaring-the-fuck-out-of-everyone factor.

there's a ton more i could get into with the other bishops, ratau, the duck siblings, the crowns themselves, more aym and baal, but i'm probably gonna do more artworks with them so i can talk more then :3 this is already too long lmao

thanks for the ask though!! it's nice knowing people are interested in my stuff :D (it's also worth mentioning that i am also a system and have alters of lamb, narinder, and aym and baal, who all contribute to this stuff)

#barks #cotl #cult of the lamb #long post under cut

[gatalentan]

PHONECALLS | AO3

Summary: Young Melissa/Barbara, wine, unexpected phonecalls, and getting closer by the inch.

Hearing Barbara's voice in her ear while four drinks in was a little too much right now, she had to admit. Overstimulation, or something. She'd crawled onto her bed somewhere around minute ten, the low rumble of her voice like a soft hand stroking her cheek. She was more than tipsy before the phone rang, and had sunk another since then, her limbs loose and warm. Drifting in space.

---------------------

Melissa was a substitute, had to be all things to all men. A swiss army knife. Adaptable. Resourceful. Good at a little of everything, but feet never planted long enough to build relationships or make a difference. Just long enough to prevent the classroom turning into Lord of the Flies 2: Fly Harder. She hated it. It wasn't why she'd become a teacher. But she had bills to pay, and it was the only gig she could get, two years outta college. 

It was still teaching. And she was still good at it.

But she wanted to be great at it.

She first got asked to sub for Barbara Howard about a year ago, when Mel was still really green. She didn't really know her, only to nod-to in the lounge. Sometimes chatted if the room was quiet. She was hard to get to know. Didn't really open up past the surface layer of small talk. Real tense, very dignified, by the book. Extremely handsome though, in the way older, confident women are. Shiny. Nice to look at over morning coffee.

But subbing for her class turned her guts to pastina. Those kids adored her. They drew pictures of her, for her, even though she wasn't there. "Mrs. Howard says this, Mrs Howard says that, is she coming back, when will we see her..." Mel couldn't remember ever missing a teacher. What kind of woman was Barbara? The fact the pin-straight room was absolutely littered with pieces of these kids told such a story of mutual love. Even if it meant the windowsill was covered in the ugliest clay… somethings known to man. They'd made them for her.

She was so fucking jealous.

She wanted it to be like that. 

Ached for it, even. 

It made her wanna get to know her, learn from her. To get to be just like her. She brought her food, after that, as an excuse to sit beside her, the way she always did when she wanted to make herself indisposable. Let me in. They always let her in. Nobody could turn her down once they took a bite.

So it was a crush, yeah. Big deal. She had eyes. The woman's face looked like she was made by Michaelangelo, all soft and hand made by something otherworldly, made you wanna touch her to see if she was warm or just made of clay. And she was warm. And pretty, and kind, but it didn't have to be a whole thing. 

Except y'know, it definitely was a whole thing. 'Cause after weeks of careful aim and persistence she'd finally learned just how to crack a real, genuine laugh out of her without fail, and whenever that happened, Melissa was always a total goner. She loved making people laugh, especially the uptight ones. It's the knowing that they'll carry that bit of her with them for the rest of the day. Made herself into a sunny spot they wanna come back to.

And it became their whole thing, over days and weeks and months, food and laughter and chairs that got a little bit closer each morning. Direct, focused attention that Melissa could just drown in. Barb seemed to grow excuses to touch her - by accident? on purpose? - punctuation while telling a story, a balm on a shitty day, a playful warning after a dirty joke. And Melissa read meaning into it that wasn't there, but mattered to her.

She'd made herself a fixture in Barbara's day to the point where she'd see her smile when she rounded the lounge doorway to find Mel already sitting there, and it made her wanna melt through the floor. 

She'd gotten in through the garden gate, and she now wanted to be around her every chance she got. 

It was a whole… problem. 

She wanted to be her friend, but she also wanted to crowd her into the janitor's closet and kiss the smile off her stupid face.

But she couldn't.

But she could think about it. 

Thinking is free. 

So hearing Barbara's voice in her ear while four drinks in was a little too much right now, she had to admit. Overstimulation, or something. She'd crawled onto her bed somewhere around minute ten, the low rumble of her voice like a soft hand stroking her cheek. She was more than tipsy before the phone rang, and had sunk another since then, her limbs loose and warm. Drifting in space.

"Did you get all that?"

"Yeah, yeah." 

Actually she hadn't heard a damn thing, had been too distracted by other thoughts, of that same voice in other, sweatier circumstances, with a pair of plum red lips attached, telling her other, filthier, things, in the shell of her ear, in the column of her neck. Stupid thoughts, but pretty ones, hanging in the air. So easy to let them drift there.

She took a swig of her wine to recenter herself.

"Hmm." Barbara didn't sound convinced, could almost hear the hand on her hips. Made Mel squirm a little, in the way disapproval always did. Pulled her out of her haze, wanting to be seen all of a sudden.

"I've got you, Barb. I know the drill. I've subbed your class how many times? You gotta trust me by now."

Silence yawned open between them down the line. Clocks ticking, cars rolling by. Trust was a loaded word to insert into this small conversation about lesson plans.

"I do. Trust you, that is." The creak of a floorboard. Melissa could picture her, barefoot in the living room, pacing around as she spoke. Cute. "I don't know if I ever told you, but the children always rave about you when I come back. 'Miss Schemmenti always does the voice this way! No, not like that, like this!' It's enough to give me a complex."

Oh. Melissa felt like she might shatter. Could feel the tears surging up, the cold tingle in her fingers and toes, heart stopped. The kids did see her. And by extension Barbara saw her. Barbara was jealous of her.

Even this drunk, with her barriers on the floor, she knew this was an insecurity made flesh that was too tender to reveal on what was meant to be an easy-going work phone call. She sniffed, rubbed her face, reworked it into something else. Toes still tingling.

"Oh yeah?" Her voice was shakier, more tense than she'd like, even with all the false bravado she tried to pack into it. "If I'm so good, does that mean you'll owe me a favour?"

Flirting was safe. It's just a game.

She was on her belly now, toying with the edges of her pillowcase, and the throaty chuckle on the end of the line lit her up like the Main Street Electrical Parade. 

"What kind of favour?"

Oh, she could think of a few. None of them PG. All of them ending in Barbara's hand twisted up in her hair. 

"Come over for dinner on Monday," burst out in a rush, up in the air before she could catch it, greased up by the wine. "If you're not busy," she followed, hoping she didn't sound too desperate. Friends eat dinner. She cooks for her all the time just not at… her house. It's totally fine. It's fine.

"Oh." Almost a gasp, and a long pause on the end of the line that nearly made Melissa's throat close up. "I'd love that." 

It could have been a lot of things - her brain, the drink, the way she felt simultaneously sleepy and keyed up - but she could have sworn there was something in her tone, there. Something else. She wanted to tear it open and sift through the pieces. Fixated her nervous hands on the pillowcase instead. 

"Seven?"

"Works for me. Do you want me to bring anything?"

Just you. "Wine?" She yawned, flicking through her mental recipe book so she could give her some direction. Braciole? Ribollita? "A chianti or something would be great."

"Perfect." A beat. "You sound tired, are you alright?"

Yes. No. "Sorry. It's the chardonnay."

"Tsk. I thought you sounded drunk."

"It's 9.30 on a Saturday night, Barb. I didn't know you were gonna call and expect to talk to me about IEPs"

"Hey, hey, no judgement from me. There's brandy with my name on it by the sink."

"Ooh, my kind of woman."

"So you keep saying." 

"You know me, I can't help myself.”

"So I've heard."

They both cackled then, throaty and light. Easy, familiar.

"I'll let you go so you can pass out in front of Walker, Texas Ranger."

"Shut up!" 

"Don't forget, top drawer of my desk." 

"Yeah. I got you. G'night Barb. "

"I know. Goodnight. Take care. Sweet dreams."

Click.

Yeah. They will be.

She put down the phone and pulled up her dress.

#melissa schemmenti #barbara howard #work wives #god this is like. only the second ever fic i've ever written don't look at me IS THIS EVEN ANYTHING. help. #✍ #gifalentan

[bogleech]

In 2010 I illustrated the party game "Chimera Isle," by Kevin Lanzing which randomizes creatures from heads, bodies and tails, but for both convenience and fun I drew them together as complete creatures that would be split apart later, based on simple lists the creator sent me for "attributes" he wanted in the game; like a card that would make a creature the fastest, or the tallest, or a grazer or a scavenger. The game went through some rules changes by the time it was released, and my real-life friends felt the unreleased beta rules were the easiest and most fun. For $10 patreon patrons I've uploaded a zip of all the creatures in high resolution, an extensive text file detailing my conceptual rationale, and a PDF of what those original gameplay rules were like, but I'll also include a little bit of the art stuff right here:

"GRASS EATER head," "JUMPING body," "DEXTROUS" tail: Lanzing really liked my first concept for a grazer head, a goatlike animal with a lawnmower-like trunk. I reused his concept of spring-shaped legs for the "jumping" body, and then I assigned "dextrousness" as a tail piece with a cluster of tentacles, wielding a spear. I guess most people would expect dextrousness to be tied to the torso limbs, but this was approved for being unexpected and fun.

"SCAVENGER" head, "FLIGHT" body, "FASTEST" tail: for a scavenging creature I went all out with my personal tastes, making a vulture head that's also a fly head that's also a coiling earthworm, so the all-purpose "flight" body card became condor-like. Lanzing didn't assign attributes to body parts for me, but let me decide what should be what, so I made the "fastest" attribute a tail piece and designed it like a many-finned shark. This originally had a rocket jet on the end, but we changed it to a propeller because we already had a different fire-spewing tail.

"SENSE OF SMELL" head, "SOCIAL" body, "SYMBIOTIC" tail: for sense of smell I designed a bison-like head with a huge, comical nose on the end of a little trunk and no visible eyes. Kevin's notes also included "SOCIAL" and "SYMBIOTIC" as two different attributes he wanted in the game, and they were the most fun to think of ideas for. I assigned "social" to a body card, and I drew it so whatever head card you drew, it would end in a little round rump with legs, with the rest of the body card featuring a band of different creatures: a little piglike thing, a flying eyeball, and a stalk-eyed flightless bird who leads into whatever tail card you drew. I then assigned "symbiotic" to a tail card resembling a tree branch with a little weird bird perched on it, and I decided to draw these three attributes together so they'd be a whole pack of creatures relying on a blind leader who sniffs out the food. Again these "original combinations" wouldn't be seen by players, so they're just my own internal behind-the-scenes combos. I didn't include the following in the patreon file but if you're having a hard time picturing it here's how the Symbiosis Body card looks on its own, like all body cards still lining up with any possible head and tail:

In retrospect, we settled on pretty bad background colors, the cool grey way too close to the dull green template of the creatures, especially given that they were done without any lineart. Should have gone with totally white backgrounds, but we thought that looked too cheap!

You can still buy chimera isle on the gamecrafter here, but I don't get royalties or anything, it was all one big commission, which did prove to be more money than I would have made off its sales!

#art

[prrism]

Hi!! Could you do Karl for the Babysitters Guide series? Have a good day/night!

I would love to! Karl is such a sweet, wholesome guy so of course I had to write this

Sweet Cuddlebug

Summary: You’ve been struggling on one of your projects for a while now, hoping some fresh air will help you feel better instead you find a very clingy Karl alone on the side of the road…

Characters: Karl Jacobs x Reader

Relationship: platonic

Pronouns: unspecified/kept neutral

You needed a break and some fresh air, your current project was proving to be tough and not wanting to completely lose all your sanity you figured a nice walk would help. It seems you’ve forgotten just where you live and that peace and quiet can be quite the rarity, the growing sounds of crying evident of that. You were unsure if this was some sorta trap but pushed the thought aside with how distressed the mysterious source sounded. When you finally locate said source of the sound you’re simultaneously surprised and unsurprised at a child version of Karl sitting at the side of the road.

“Karl? Now how did you get all the way over here?” You question aloud, gaining his attention. Immediately the crying turns into softer whimpers and he reaches up for you. Without hesitation you pick him up and give him a boop on the nose earning you a small giggle, you smile and do it again making him brighten up a little more, you do it one more time and Karl goes from a sad whimper to elated laughing. “Alright, let’s get you somewhere safer.” You say, turning around to head back home.

You enter your home and set Karl down on the couch, you weren’t sure how long he’d been out there but you assumed a snack might cheer him up more. Grabbing some apples and carrots you’re about to cut them into smaller pieces when you feel weight lean against your leg, glancing down at Karl now clinging to you and staring at you with big doe eyes.

“Can I help you?” You ask, semi-sarcastically.

“Up, up, up.” Karl reaches up to you making little grabby hands. You can’t hold back a smile at how adorable he looked.

“You want up? Don’t you want a snack first?” To your surprise he shakes his head and continues reaching for you.

“Up, up, up.” He starts bouncing in place. Who were you to deny such a request so naturally you place what you’re holding down and lift him up, instantly he snuggles against you.

“Aww, you just wanted some cuddles, huh? Are you a little cuddlebug?” You give little Eskimo kisses making him giggle happily. Your day was filled with lots and lots of cuddles, you just couldn’t say no to Karl’s puppy eyes, not that you complaining either.

When you were finally able to get him to draw you take the opportunity to stretch out a bit, returning shortly after to see several strange drawings by him. One looked like a clock with swirling patterns around it, easy enough to figure out, what really stuck out to you was the pictures of a strange clocked figures and some sort of angel(?) with XD on its face, or mask you weren’t too sure.

“Whatcha drawing there Karl?” You ask, though you already knew you weren’t going to get an answer. Confirming this when he says nothing and reaches for you again, easily taking the hint you lift him into your arms again. As he happily cuddles against you, you’re still eyeing the pictures he drew wondering why they made you feel uneasy, especially the one of the angel, if that was even what it was. You don’t get to dwell on the feeling much longer when a familiar whirling sound hits your ears and you quickly set Karl onto the ground, in a quick puff he’s back to normal but still looking at you with puppy eyes.

“Hey, why’d you stop?” He pouts.

“Sorry, didn’t exactly feel like dropping you now that you’re yourself again.” You chuckle. “Why? Did you still need more cuddles?” You question sarcastically.

“Yes.” He answers sincerely.

“Umm… I’m sure if you head home Sapnap will be more then happy to cuddle with you.” You suggest.

“Well yeah, but I need cuddles to help hold me over before the long journey home. Please?” He stares at you expectantly, you sigh.

“Oh alright. Even now I still can’t say no.” You cave, muttering that last part. Karl smiles brightly and happily wraps you in a hug, you return the gesture with a smile of your own.

Who’da thought that all you needed to relax from that big, tough project wasn’t simply a walk but some well deserved cuddles from a friend.

That was a fun one 😁 I hope you guys liked it too. Feel free to let me know whose childish adventures you’d like to see next

#dream smp #dream smp x reader #dream smp x platonic reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp x platonic reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x platonic reader #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader