#Ol fem

[linipik]

More fem KL sketches I think they should pull each other pigtails

[buttonheart]

Fashionistas

[ozziyo]

variations on a theme

[arkaniske]

hello i come bearing MORE yurified jayvik

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

Cyberverse Slipstream

[breezypunk]

Holland ♥︎

Tried out the new EKT CC, and um.. I fear I've fallen head over heels.

[ilovesmg3]

[ I wrote this like, a year ago. Cut me some slack. Also yes, this is first person! "I/Me/My." I used to write a lot, maybe I'll get back into it if y'all like this and it does well. ]

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I couldn't help my lower lip from quivering, I sat on the floor of the salon in Roxy Raceway defeated. The day shift felt like hell, a genuine battlefield of cake, pizza and rotten little brats running around non stop. Disobeying rules was the children's favorite thing to do despite the entirety of them coming straight to the raceway from the daycare on the higher floors.

You'd think they'd have been taught better, but alas, an underpaid Fazbear employee can only dream. I looked around at my surroundings, thankful for the short break. 10 minute breaks every 3 hours was better than nothing, right? I groaned as I heard a knock on the big, red doors. Assuming it was another child asking for help getting into a cart, I put on a brave face and a large smile before a large, grey face poked through the door. "Roxy," I sighed with relief. If I could describe 'Her eyes softened,' it'd be this exact moment.

I smiled warmly and she walked in, closing the door behind her and disregarding the disappointed groans of the children outside that were trailing her. Thankfully they knew enough to not walk into the salon when it was closed, or Roxy herself they'd have to answer to. Roxanne was large, a very tall animatronic. Her high-tech eyes showed emotion somehow, and I could read it the best.

After all, I've worked in this part of the Mega Pizzaplex for the last two years. Shaking myself out of the thoughts, I looked to Roxy as the first tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn't realized how close I was to tears, nor did I realize how fast my smile faded. Roxy's face immediately showed concern, she walked over to me as softly as her large, metal feet would allow.

"(Y/N)?" She whispered softly, bending down to reach my level like she does with the children mid-outburst. "Are you.. okay?" She continued to speak with worry. I couldn't meet her eyes, only shaking my head back and forth, signaling a "no." She nodded, holding out her gloved, metal hand towards me. I hesitated, before taking it. She pulled me up gently, using a claw to wipe my remaining tears. "Do you.. want to talk about it?" I felt myself compelled to look into her bright, golden eyes.

I sighed before taking in a deep breath. "Sure, Roxy." She smiled again, her robotic ears perking slightly, happy to listen. "The kids.. man, they're ruthless.." She cocked her head, the robotic whirring inside her metal chest sped up as she contemplated what I'd said, shortly after she nodded, asking me to continue if comfortable.

"Roxy.. I.. The kids, even though I work here, they continue to constantly berate me and say my hair looks.. awful?" I questioned, turning slightly to look in the mirror. "I guess they're right, I haven't been sleeping or taking care of myself lately." This wasn't the first time I'd found myself ranting to Roxanne, but on day shift was a different story, I'd never felt so.. distraught at work before.

Roxanne sighed, her robotic tone sounding sad. She held my smaller hand in her own, and pulled me towards the salon's chairs. "Wha..?" I questioned and she let out a bark of a laugh. "Come on, you think you can let KIDS get to YOU?" She knew the situation now, and she wanted to help.

Placing me in the chair gently but firmly by pressing my shoulders down, the lights turned on. Music began to play and the kids outside the room began to shout, mad they weren't allowed in. "Don't pay attention to them, (Y/N). You deserve a longer break today."

I sighed in relief, I didn't even care about my one other co-worker on the floor at the moment, just hanging out with Roxy, and taking a goddamned break. She pumped up the salon chair and pulled the hairbrush from the countertop, using her claws to get out the chunk of hair I was forced to pull out of a kids disgusting head earlier.

I looked at the brush in disgust and she chuckled, "Alright, alright. Let me get a new one." I smiled, reaching up to wipe the remaining dew from my eyes and watching in the mirror as behind me, Roxy checked each counter and drawer until she found a fresh, new in-package brush.

The brush was really pretty, like those see-through sparkly pony toys from years past that were rotting in my cousin's closet. She walked back with a pep in her step, gently caressing my face as she looked in the mirror into my eyes. "(Y/N). You are enough. You are so, so beautiful.

You are perfect. You are the best." I felt my eyes widen, hearing the speech she gave to herself during the night shift. I smile softly, pressing my cheek into her cold, yet inviting metal hand. "You are my favorite." She spoke warmly, a tone I hadn't yet heard from her. She moved me back gently into the seat, gripping the brush before gliding it through my hair, pulling calmly and softly through the knots to avoid any pain.

For a robot, she was very good at this. I sighed as I felt the bristles against my scalp, an overall amazing and relieving feeling to just, be tended to by someone who cared about me. She smiled down at me, holding my tips and slicing gently with her claws, somehow working better than scissors. Soon enough, my hair was cleaned up. Dead ends gone, hair brushed and somehow it even looked less greasy, after working around pizza all day, that was an incredible thing to accomplish.

She pulled the make-up from the other side of the counter. Normally, this was for the teenagers or even just kids who wanted a little sparkle on the raceway or downright face-paint, but right now, it was to make me feel better about myself. She turned the chair so I was facing her, she was large.

Her grey, plastic and metal fur was shiny, up close I could see her teeth, yet I didn't feel threatened. For once I felt safe in this establishment, any worries or woes I've felt because of it, were gone in this very moment. Roxy placed the makeup sponge against my under eyes, clearing up the bags for at least a little while, adding a little glitter and sparkle to really finish that "Roxy" look. After she finished she pulled away, looking at me with a grin of pride. Roxy pushed the swivel chair back around so I could see myself. I smiled wide, I looked PERFECT! "Yes you do!" Roxy spoke aloud, I hadn't even realized the words escaped my lips, I jumped up and gave Roxy a hug.

Roxy smiled and grabbed me, lifting me up quickly into a bear hug even Freddy couldn't compare to. She swung me around in her arms and I hugged her back just as tight, "Thank you, Roxy." I whispered, and she howled a laugh in response with a smile, causing the children outside to scream in excitement. I looked at Roxy, we nodded. I put on a smile, but a real one this time, and opened the doors to the salon.

The children all ran in and swarmed me. "No way!! (Y/N) got a make-over by Roxy herself!! They're so cool!!" "I'm so jealous!! They look so good!!" and the likes was heard from the crowd, I looked out the open door to see my co-worker lying on the tiled floor, exhausted. I yelled a quick "Sorry!" before getting back to my shift, Roxy by my side for support with a grin.

[nitetrait]

posting the edit from this posepack's cover w/o text because I really loved it <3

[sentientcave]

Once Again I am Asking You to Celebrate WIP Wednesday (Baybeee)

More Rugby! Contains Gaz, a reference to top surgery, a joke about having too many nipples, and no actual rugby. Maybe there will never be any actual rugby. Who can say?

Sunday mornings are always football with Simon and Johnny’s friend Gaz, as least when he’s not deployed. He’s a lieutenant or something, part of the unit that your friends used to be in. He’s nice, if a bit too charming for you to be entirely comfortable around him. On sunny days he always finds an excuse to take his shirt off and flash all his well-maintained muscle at any watchers, but annoyingly, today he’s trying to persuade you to do the same. “Ah, come on, Ripper. You’re gonna be as pale as that one if you don’t get some sun,” he says playfully, jerking his thumb in Simon’s direction. Simon is, as always, fully covered, with long sleeves under his t-shirt and socks up to his knees.

You roll your eyes. It would be physically impossible for you to ever be as pale as Simon, regardless of how little sun you get. “I think between you and Johnny, we’re showing plenty of skin as a group.”

“Never have seen ye take off yer shirt.” Johnny leans against Gaz’s shoulder, blue eyes curious. “Never even change ‘fore or after games. Ye just goan home as is.”

“So?” you ask.

“Johnny, leave ‘im alone.” Simon ruffles your hair playfully. “Lad’s just shy.”

“Not shy,” you say amiably. “Just have several sets more nipples than the average person. Bit self conscious about it.”

Johnny’s eyes bug out. “Really?”

Simon swats his arm. “No not really, Johnny. ‘E’s ‘avin’ us on.”

“Did we come here to play football, or did we come here to speculate on the number of nipples I have?” In all fairness, you probably could take off your shirt without worrying about it now. Your scars are a few years old, fully faded, and you’ve put on so much muscle since (and especially since getting to know Simon and Johnny) that you don’t even notice them when you look in the mirror now. Still, the risk of them seeing, the risk of them noticing and treating you differently is not one you’re particularly keen on.

“Sure we came here to play, but tha’s all Ah’m goan ta be able ta think about noo.”

“Well, I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

Simon’s hand comes down on the back of your neck, that affectionate scruff he usually uses on Johnny. “Aw, come on, Rip, ‘e’s not goin’ to be useful to anyone if you don’t. If you’re not shy and you’ve got the normal amount of nipples, don’t see why not.” His hand is heavy, his thumb brushing across the skin under your ear deliberately. “Wun’t mind seein’ the results of all that work you’ve been puttin’ in myself.”

You give him a sharp look for encouraging the other two, but he’s unconcerned, just gently squeezes the back of your neck. Your knees wobble.

SHARE WHAT YOU'RE WORKING ON! I DON'T DO TAGS ABOUT IT BUT IF YOU WANT TO YOU SHOULD! WIP WEDNESDAY FOR EVERYONE.

[ex1ledbrethren]

have you ever thought about what max would be like if he was genderbent?

exactly the same but with big ol tiddys and a strap on and more "call me mommy"core o7

[void-bitten-ghost]

Okay so imagine Fazco have like an end of year event or smthn for all their employees and y/n wasn't gonna go until someone said they wouldn't fit in bc it was a high class event so instead They Ate

[pulsedmaggot]

girl!corey thoughts (x reader)

if ya dont like cisswap i apologize 🤞 it will happen again. unapologetically self indulgent with this one. nsfw towards the end.

girl!corey who insists you paint each other's nails colors that match, so she can look down at her chipped paint job and think of you. corey who snoops through your fridge in her hoodie that doesn't fit while you're in the bathroom scrubbing away at her hair dye. it gets everywhere, the dye. and it's always dye with her, always a new look whenever she feels like it. knotted red, short and beyond-bleached blonde, inky black waves that smell like cigarettes and kfc, a buzz cut that you love to rub your fingers over. girl!corey who loves your hands. girl!corey who loves the feeling of you massaging the space under her ear while she's trying to put her mask on, knowing she can't do too much about it because it has to get on eventually but she loves being touched, loves when you touch her. even when she's sweaty & slipknot stained. karaoke where she ends up in your lap singing into your mouth. always in your lap. girl!corey who has a habit of wearing your underwear (because hers are always mia) and nothing else. girl!corey whose nipple piercings would sparkle while you groped her entire body, gathering skin and tattoos and ill-fitted clothes all in one. girl!corey who knows how much you love her tits and would tease you either by not wearing a bra or not wearing a shirt at all, wanting to show off in front of you while making you leave much to your own imagination. girl!corey whose favorite way to get off is by you eating her out, no matter if you're supposed to be busy scrubbing her hair dye out of your sink or unloading her clothes from your washer. you wouldn't trade the feeling of her thighs twitching around your head for the world, though.

[voiceemporium]

Merrill Sabrae in Dragon Age 2 voiced by Eve Myles

[tangledmelody]

My brain is working overtime and I can't quite bring myself to wait to share this idea, so without further ado- a cute little blurb.

Spencer Reid x Original Female Character

This is an idea that I literally can't stop thinking about. Depending on how quickly I can write I'll probably be posting the full chapter on ao3 soon. (I just have to make up my mind if this is going to be a one-shot or something longer).

Quick summary:

Lucille had been in love with Dr. Reid for years, but she hadn't quite realized it until recently. She was fascinated from the very start- sending him longing stares and hidden glances in between the heartbreaking horrors that their job brings.

In the middle of a crowded bar Lucille struggles to hold onto her muddled mind as her coworkers urge her to drink past her usual limit. Will either of them be brave enough to mention the simmering tension that flares underneath the surface of their friendship? I would certainly like to know ;)

The vibes I bring to the function: yearning, mutual pining, idiots in love, drunken antics, unspoken sexual tension, like seriously- just kiss already, BAU! member original character, flustered Spencer, lots of blushing and drawn out looks, 3rd person omniscient POV

This is a short blurb- really a sneak peek of something that I'm working on. Word count is less than 1,000. NOT proofread.

The world spins around her as she moves. Lights and faces trail through the air in fascinating blurs of color and Lucille finds herself unable to look away. She hesitates- fluid motion stuttering to a stop as the palm of her hand catches against the smooth, metal surface of the bar. Her legs wobble shakily underneath her as she cautiously leans back onto the red cushioned stool. 

She spins- flying through the air with dizzying speed as a delighted laugh is pulled from low in her chest. She is left achingly breathless from the motion. 

“Spencer,” she gasps softly. Her breath hitches again as she catches sight of those familiar brown eyes. 

“Pretty boy genius.” Her words fly out in a tumble- a far cry from the usual composed way she preferred to speak with. But Spencer was here. Her Spencer. 

Lucille looked at him with shining eyes. Her mouth stretched wide into a dopey, adoring grin. “Hey,” she mumbled conspiratorially as she leaned forward. Their shoulders connected as the room spun around her in looping circles. She's too far gone to care, not even noticing the confused stare that Spencer flashes her. 

He twists, probably an attempt to find one of the other members of the team. He wanted to get rid of her- pawn her off to someone else. Not fair. Lucille pouted, her glossy lips pushing together as she stuck her lower lip out. 

“Spencer,” she whines. Her voice pitches higher than normal, another sign of the alcohol steadily thrumming through her bloodstream. “You're not paying attention to me.”

She grins lazily at the tight lipped look of confusion he sends her way. God, she just wanted to reach over and smooth those beautiful lips underneath her thumb. 

“Are you alright?” The low, steady rumble of Spencer's voice snaps her out of her reverie and Lucille flinches. Her shoulders roll backwards as she straightens. 

“Yes.” Her voice is too high-pitched, coming out in a strained gasp. “Yeah,” she tries again, eyebrows pulling together at the frustrating fact that her voice has barely returned to normal. “I-I'm fine.”

He stares at her- she pretends not to notice the tantalizing way the tip of his tongue peeks out from between his lips. 

Spencer is the one to break the spell. He places a gentle, fluttering touch onto her skin. His warm palms melt into her- settling into the bones underneath. It is fire, crackling thunder, and the hesitant whisper of something more. Lucille melts under his concerned gaze and her eyes widen almost imperceptibly. But Spencer notices- he always notices.

“Really Spence-” her hand lifts up to his, shaky fingers clutching around his knuckles in a timid sort of desperation. She tells herself that it's only a means to an end- the logical answer to solve the shaky way her legs sway underneath her. 

He pretends not to notice the subtle way his heart thrums in his chest at the gesture- the dizzying way his head spins as she calls his name oh so softly. It is almost tender in nature as she leans into him. 

The easy way she leans toward him is electrifying. Her cheeks are dusted with the most wonderfully enchanting shade of pink. Spencer's fingers twitch- pushing softly into the cool skin underneath his aching palm. 

She sighs, and it sends skittish waves of heat across his spine. Her head drops forward- wild hair falling into her eyes in the most fascinating way. All he wants to do is reach up and hold one of the silky strands between his fingers. He wants nothing more than to twist one of the twisting coils and tug.

Lucille blinks at him owlishly- delicate eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks captivatingly. She runs a thumb across his knuckles gingerly- so achingly slow. She barely registers the subtle motion. She's too focused on his beautiful, brown eyes- a shade that's fascinated her from the very moment she first laid eyes on Spencer all those years ago. Three, she was sure- almost positive. That number sounded right even through her drunken haze.

“Are you?” She pushes herself back, elbows gingerly resting against the cold metal behind her. “Okay I mean?”

His answer is shaky- a high pitched hum as he stiffly shakes his head. “Yeah-” Spencer flashes her a look that she can't understand. Her brain isn't working quite right. The easy understanding that usually bubbles to the surface as she analyzes someone's behavior isn't quite working. It's frustrating in a way she can't define- can't find the words to explain. 

---

And- that's it. Tada~ Hopefully it's as interesting as I think it is lol

Literally going feral over this man as we speak. I can't get this scenario out of my head. I miss him :(

[fe-fictions]

hi hi hi! do you have anything for balthus? have a nice day!

(I actually have one...!!! I'd written two, but I can barely remember what the first one was,,, ;;; A ;;; So please enjoy some Papa Balthus!)

You loved that Balthus was a doting father. Your little girl was fragile and sweet, so Balthus always took extra care when handling her.

She was the light of his life, that much was certain. So you never objected when he asked to take care of her for the day. You had your duties to handle, and the baby could be a lot of work that would leave you exhausted if you had to tackle everything at once.

Today, though, you found your work completed much earlier than anticipated. So you decided to take the opportunity to spend time with your little family.

After asking around a bit, you realized that Balthus had taken her with him to the training grounds, likely to keep track of her while he was exercising. When you opened the door to the grounds, though, you didn’t expect the sight before you.

“Abwah!”

“That’s just three sets, squirt- we’ve got two more to go! Hup!!” 

There was your husband, doing push-ups on the floor, with his daughter sitting dutifully on his back. Though to be fair, she didn’t know exactly what was going on.

His little four-month-old was nothing more than a 15 pound weight, which was nothing for your hard-muscled husband.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching as he set into his push-ups again, your daughter bouncing every time he lifted his arms to clap his hands together.

She looked positively decided, babbling nonsense to her father while he toiled away beneath her. You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at, but it was absolutely adorable.

For a long while you didn’t say anything, waiting until he finished up his fourth set before coming into the room.

“Well, now...what have we here?”

Balthus turned his head to find his wife’s stockings in view, craning to look up and meet your amused gaze.

He grinned at you, pausing his workout to greet you properly.

“Byleth! Just the woman I wanted to see.” 

“Why’s that?”

“You’re my wife, aren’t you? I want to see you all the time!” He laughed, plucking the baby from his back so he could turn over and regard you properly. “What brings you here in the middle of the day?”

“I finished my work early, it seems. I thought I’d come check on you two and see how you were doing.”

“We’re doing just fine,” He replied while wiping his face with a towel, hugging his girl to his chest. “She’s been helping me workout, today.”

“I noticed.” You smiled softly, bending over to pet her head. She gave you a gummy grin, reaching up at you with those grabby little hands you loved.

You lifted her into your arms, but didn’t have her for much more than a second before your husband was protesting.

“Now, wait a minute! You can’t take my training partner away all of a sudden!”

“But I haven’t seen her all day. You aren’t honestly going to keep me from our child, are you?” Your eyebrows rose, surprised by his protest.

Balthus shrugged, draping the towel over his shoulders. “Someone’s gotta spot me today, and she’s my favorite training weight. At least let her stay until I’ve finished my routine, please?”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am! And hells, why stop with the baby? How about you hop on, too! I’d welcome the extra challenge.”

“You want to use your wife in addition to your daughter...as training weights?” You stared at him borderline in awe. It was an amusing idea, but you weren’t convinced it was a good idea.

“Why not? I can handle it! Besides, it’ll be fun family time!”

“Family time…” You echoed, looking to your daughter. Her eyes were wide and round with excitement, clearly hoping that you would go along with it (even though she was a baby who had no idea what was going on).

“C’mon, By. It’ll be fun!” He gestured for you to join him, assuming the push-up position. “We can at least try it, right?”

“...I suppose.” You slowly conceded. Balthus cheered, setting himself in place while you carefully arranged yourself to sit on his back. You crossed your legs, tucking them  so you could hold your daughter in your lap.

She seemed happy to be with you, slapping her father’s back with uncoordinated handwork.

Balthus chuckled, “Guess that’s my cue to get workin’!” 

You were pleasantly surprised when Balthus began his work, managing to perform his push-ups with ease even with your added weight.

You counted for him aloud, keeping your daughter secured while she wiggled in your lap. Sure enough, by the time he finished his final rep he was hardly breaking a sweat. 

It was actually quite humorous, had anyone walked into the training room and seen the Archbishop sitting on her husband, baby in hand, while he was pushing himself to the limit.

Of course you were fortunate enough that wasn’t the case (you weren’t sure if you could live it down if someone saw you in such a silly position).

“Aaand...there!” Balthus slowly sank to the floor, resting his head on the cool stone as he caught his breath. “See? Told you it was easy! That was nothing at all!”

“You’re rather arrogant for a man who’s under the boot of his wife and child,” You mused, tapping your foot against his back. “Who’s to say we don’t want you to do three more reps?”

“Oh yeah? Who’s gonna make me?”

“The women who won’t remove themselves from your back until you do.”

“What, you don’t think five reps is enough?”

“I think you’re going soft- you could do eight reps without skipping a beat back in the day.” You smirked when he tilted his head back to look at you, a sparkle in his eye.

“Byleth Eisner von Albrecht, is that a challenge?”

“It is, Balthus von Albrecht.”

“Challenge accepted.” He grinned (borderline maniacally), and lifted himself back up so quickly he almost knocked you both off.

“Aaawahhbah!!!”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” Balthus was all fired up, running those push-ups like he hadn’t done five reps before.

Of course, you assured him he’d be rewarded handsomely if he achieved his goal.

Which would have been a kiss, if Constance hadn’t chased you down for an urgent meeting that suddenly popped up and preceded to scold you and Balthus for such an obscene display in the middle of the day.