#bc i was thinking of just making it private

[abrthephantomq]

You tell me I'm a good boy or a good pet and I'll melt in your hands. - Jazz, probably, when he figures out that he's a simp for Zim even if he doesn't realize WHY he's obsessed with him.

Zim this, Zim that - he's all you talk about, Dib. Maybe you don't actually hate him. Maybe you actually like, wanna suck his dick or something --

GAZLENE --

what? Am I wrong?

Nnn-- I mean -- yes. Yes you're wrong Gaz.

Hey, have you noticed there's lots more planes flying overhead around here, lately?

Yeah, that'd make sense and all, considering what happened last week.

What happened last week?

...........Dib. You know what happened last week.

I don't, actually -- oh no...

What is it? Why're you acting so weird? Like, weirder than usual?

Fuck I overshot.

What do you mean, you overshot?

Gaz, what year is it?

It's 2001. Why?

Month?

September --

Of course! That's what happened, last week. Thanks. I forgot for a second. That's all.

How could you forget about it? All you've been talking about is how Zim was the one who did all of it --

BECAUSE HE DID, GAZ.

What?

That was ZIM - he didn't manage to sell any candy bars so he lost our bet. He was so confused why humans weren't falling to their knees, terrified. In those EXACT words. I have a recording of him saying just that.

What the hell, Dib --

:voice recording plays - Zim sounds absolutely devastated: "they didn't even blink an eye when I put that city in ruins. How can these humans be so.... Eh? I forgot the word, what was I saying?

Oh. Yeah. These hyumens aren't scared of my super scary simulation of me destroying one of their precious cities! They just shrugged and said whatever. I don't want your fucking candy."

Do you humans not get enough moneys to buy these things? These are....really good chocolate. Like, I expected them to be sand based on the name of them, but -- they're actually good? Is this a PRIVATE school?

[Dib's voice can be heard in the background; he apparently planted a bug that looked exactly like The Bug --, right where Zim tended to look at himself in the mirror. Because Zim likes to talk to himself out loud - but he's gotta see his reflection to do it. But Zim's eyes are fucking terrible and he can't see shit, even with his occular implants. Even though he is an Irken Elite. You're not gonna get anymore information from me than that. Either way, you hear enough to know that it's Dib speaking, even if you can't make out what he's saying. But Zim can hear him even if Dib is WAYYYYYY. Over there bc of his antenna. Like. You can hear a Dib when he is in his home. That is how much better Zim can hear than Dib]

Did you really just hijack me, space boy? I'm trying to tell my part of the story here as the fly on the wall of every single moment the two of you think you're alone.

Bobby Dawn what are you doing. (Barbie Dan?)(nah, Bobby Dawn. But if you wanna say it where people hear the name both ways, go for it)

Anyways, Steven asked for my assistance with the next chapter of class clown. This ain't the next, next chapter, but it is a chapter that'll show up later down the road. He's gotta finish a Mr. sludgey POV, first.

This just the super unedited version done while I'm high bc I love creating bonds and strengthening them via writing them. That includes my TikToks and my journal entries I ain't shared with y'all and all the writing we ain't shared with y'all, neither.

Gonna go get myself some lunch now, tho. Been at this long enough. ❤️ Have a good day now, y'hear?

All fanfiction authors have praise kinks in the form of comments and likes

[revelboo]

Hello:33 I hope you're fine and well you always give your best in your writing and they are sooo fine Damn 😩🤌🏻✨ you're cooking🗣️💥😝 so if you're in the mood and have free time BC I know you're busy asf, here's my request BC I miss my husband (wifey) ratchet 😭✨🤌🏻😩😝

REVEL FEED ME ANOTHER CHAPTER OF RATCHET AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!

Please (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

Sure

The Weakends Pt 11

TFP Ratchet x Reader

• Coming up for air when he rests his helm against your forehead, you’re dimly aware of his optics sliding sideways when Fowler mutters about you stretching the definition of human-Cybertronian relations with that as he stalks off. Of Ratchet making a low, rumbling sound that’s almost a growl as his head turns to track the other human and you reach to tip his face back toward you. “I don’t care what he thinks, but we probably shouldn’t be making out right here. It’s about time for the kids to get out of school,” you say, lips brushing his as you speak. And his big frame shudders against you, his hands gripping your butt to lift you off your feet and then your back hits the wall as his mouth comes down on yours as if just to spite Fowler.

• Pinning you, his servos tighten on your hip as his other hand reaches up to cup your face, tipping it up. Knows you’re right, that he should take this somewhere private, but he’s almost afraid you might come to your senses and put a stop to this if he lets up. And he needs this, you, so bad it hurts. To find out you care about him that way, that you see him? See anything besides the gruff team medic? It means everything. “Ah, Doc. Ew.” Feels you press your face against his neck, trying not to laugh as he glares over his shoulder at Smokescreen. “Get out,” he growls, now sure you’re laughing as you hook your legs around his waist and he smacks his palm against the wall behind you because you’re wiggling against him, hot breath on the mesh of his neck.

• “I told you,” you whisper, brushing your mouth against his neck because it makes him vent raggedly when you do. And then he’s tipping your head up, servos on your chin. Those lovely blue optics staring down at you in frustration and need. Tempting you to see where this goes. His thumb is against your bottom lip and you tilt your head to nip at him with your teeth, sucking on the tip and his hips rock against you as he makes a noise. Encouraging you to be wicked as you hear Smokescreen leaving, still rambling about fragging in the common area. The doc’s lips are slightly parted as you suck on his thumb, tongue sliding against him. Teasing. “We could make our own definition of human-Cybertronian relations,” you say before nipping him again. Face heating, you’re aware that you’ve never been good at this. At seduction or flirting, but you want this. Want him and need him to know it.

• “Primus,” he growls as you stare up at him with those eyes and suck on his servo again, the wet heat and suction of your mouth, the feel of your tongue sliding against him going straight to his spike. Imagining you doing that to his spike. “You’re trying to kill me.” Giving in to impulse and rocking himself against you, hating the layers of clothing and his plating between you. Had never been an exhibitionist before, still isn’t, but he’s tempted to take you right there. The kids, though. Groaning, he grips your butt in his hands ignoring your little noise of protest before you occupy that soft mouth by stroking over the mesh of his neck as he tries to walk you back to his quarters. Hearing the musical sound of your laughter again at his awkward shuffle.

• Your back hits the door to the quarters and you arch to find his mouth again when he tries to get the door open. Distracting him as the big medic growls at you and pins you more firmly. Legs tightening around him as he moves against you, rocking himself when you wiggle in his grip, chasing that friction and heat. Feeling like a teenager fooling around for the first time, groping and grinding through your clothes. “Please, doc,” you moan against his lips, knowing he hates the nickname and he takes advantage, glossa stealing inside. Clinging to him, hips bucking as he claims your mouth with all that pent up frustration, servos almost bruising on your hips.

Previous

[tinyfantasminha]

Okay so I KNOW that you're a selfship kinda gal most of the time, but I recently saw this jp artist on one of my feeds that's been drawing some kinda really cute Idia/Jack things lately? What are your thoughts, queen 🎙

I think I know the artist you're talking about 😳I've been sharing a few of their art too,,,,,

Since Idia is amongst my top faves, I always liked to imagine him and Jack interacting more 😭I'm mostly indifferent to shipping them romantically, like I don't think I'd go on my way to look for fanfics or whatever but I always go crazy seeing fanart of them together since it's so rare! The fact they are completely OPPOSITES makes for such a fun dynamic but it makes them also rarely interact or want to do anything with each other 😭*puts them in a small pot so I can force them to be on the same space*

Tbh I like to think that Idia is secretly salty and envious of Jack because Jack looks like a cool shonen protagonist irl or a superhero... kinda like the type of character Idia envisioned to be when he was a kid before the tragedy with Ortho happened and he's just like ''ugh that macho guy thinks he's a chad doesn't he🙄'' when Jack is just existing 😂

If I'm going to be honest, I think Idia does have a few fictional hunk oshis on his own but he feels conflicted when seeing an irl buff guy bc it's a mixture of simp admiration and repulsion (bi ace king imo) like it's funny to imagine Idia spying on him with his tablet and being like ''look at those HD muscle definitions... omg it's just like (insert hunk character)'' but getting close to Jack irl makes Idia viscerally recoil and want to run for his life 😭 (as seen in his recent room relaxation vignette, FINALLY my crumbs!!!)

also (conveniently ignoring the whole context of this scene) HEY?? 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈❓❓

Also this is mostly an AU I keep in private in discord servers but sometimes I think of how..... fitting it would be for a hercules AU where Idia is (obviously) Hades and Jack is Herc 🫢CAUSE HHJGDHNfdjjgXX...... PURE HEARTED, SLIGHTLY NAIVE, STRONG, BEEFY...... ITS FITTING FOR JACK RIGHT??? (and twstvic as Meg for... for obvious reasons.... b-but this isn't about my yumes)

Realistic it wouldn't go like that cause Idia can barely stay within a 3-meter radius from Jack...

[sunsetcdiscs]

Maybe I'm a little too ambitious at times...

Anyway, wish me the best guys :D

[sunnibits]

does anybody need some soft jarthur in these trying times

[chirpsythismorning]

I’m sorry but nothing will ever beat Finn’s drive playlist that he made during s3 filming, with songs like Me and Michael, The Basement, Gay Thoughts and No Woman lmaoooo

[crybaby-bkg]

Bakugou likes to remind you to breathe whenever you two have sex. It can get so overwhelming for you—the pleasure, the intensity, the intimacy, the eye contact that he never lets you lose. It’s a connected feeling, when you’re at the height of it all, the precipice of climaxing.

“Hey, hey, eyes on me, baby,” he’ll whisper to you, tapping your cheeks once, twice, gently to gain your attention. Your eyes flutter open, rolling once before they settle on his, whining when you catch a carmine gaze, filled only with a type of passion and adoration that it makes your hole clench around him.

“Breathe through it, will you do that for me, baby? Huh?” He talks to you like you’re some airhead and, in a sense, you guess you are at the moment. Only able to gasp, mouth dropping open for his tongue to swipe the inside of it, hands pawing at his shoulders and nape.

“Cmon, baby, breathe with me. Gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, watches how your eyebrows screw up, how your eyes struggle to stay open.

You’ve always had the bad habit of holding your breath when you orgasm, and Bakugou’s heard somewhere that breathing through it makes the feeling all the more powerful. And he’s been doing it with you ever since—pressing his chest to yours, his mouth against your own, his breath in, your breath out.

When you cum, you remember to suck in your deep breaths, eyes hopelessly rolling to the back of your head as you shake and tremble all over. Bakugou praises you the whole time though, groaning and whispering about how good you did for him, how tight you are, how you listen so, so well.

His own breath stutters as he follows you, toes curled against the mattress as his breath slows until his balls finally unclench and he can relax into your body. You’re both boneless in seconds, and you figure the mess can wait until you gain feeling back in your body again.

[moeblob]

it is almost midnight why am I still drawing art ...

[shyhandart]

wanted to show you my rainbowglider kid so far! just a WIP ☺️

Holy crap! Alternate universe siblings!!

This is Caustic Phantom, but everyone they know calls them tommy :3

[lilaccatholic]

Physically I'm here but mentally I'm clawing the eyes out of everyone who talks crap about their children on the internet and posts them in their most vulnerable moments for clout

[hearts401]

thinking abt my universe's school system and deciding to draw them working on an essay

[lonelystarbuckslover13]

I saw someone say they think the fact that there actually weren’t that many songs on ttpd about Joe (as far as we know) is actually a sign of respect for him and I couldn’t agree more. The few songs that are most likely about him aren’t speaking poorly on his character they’re just heartbreaking, and the most vengeful songs on the album are likely about Matty. I feel like so many people went into this album expecting to hate Joe after but instead we just learned what we always knew - Joe was a generally good guy and Matty Healy sucks.

[talentforlying]

thinking about john's multitude of short-lived, often quickly-abandoned apartments for some reason, so a couple details:

although you might expect to find a very wizard-y interior to any place he's currently living at — you know, grimoires, skulls, dust, clutter, etc. — his flats actually tend to be fairly spartan in terms of decor; they've even been accused of looking modern, here and there. he just moves too frequently to really settle in & accrue Things, and has so often had to simply up & leave everything he currently owned behind (with very little chance of getting any of it back) that he no longer attaches much meaning to household objects.

besides the consistent presence of at least one bookshelf with at least 12 books on it, and a sad sprig of garden sage that miraculously hasn't died yet, the one exception to his lack of personal touch is his extensive collection of records + tapes, all of which he has repeatedly & methodically tracked down and bought / bid / traded / stolen / threatened for / blackmailed for / simply taken back whenever an enterprising landlord or new tenant left him the opportunity to do so. his record player itself has never needed to be taken back, since it has always mysteriously vanished from whatever flat he's leaving and mysteriously appeared wherever he's staying; it's convenient like that. his 10th anniversary walkman, however, frequently goes missing, only to turn up again later in a place he KNOWS he checked when he's least expecting it.

lack of home decor isn't to say he doesn't own much, mind: the bulk of his personal possessions — assorted occult paraphernalia, blackmail documentation, miscellaneous crap from his mucous membrane days, and anything he is able to take with him from past flats — are usually stored off-site, in a secure location that can't easily be tied back to him. this guy's been accused of being a satanic killer on multiple occasions, he knows better than to keep all the real shit out where anyone can just swan in and see it.

currently, this storage location (which i lovingly call occult shit central) is an abandoned inner london storefront + adjoining flat that was formerly his old friend ray monde's shop and home, called brick-a-brac antiques. it's decidedly cozier than the last place, (in that there are chairs, plural,) and has fewer bear traps laid out in anticipation of unlucky thieves; in fact, if a person were to visit without already knowing where constantine actually lives, it'd be easy to mistake it as his expectedly-wizardy flat. it's not an ideal location for an occult shit central, too close to the heart of the city and too close to people to avoid drumming up suspicion should constantine attempt any sort of ritual inside, but until chas finally quits ducking the paperwork and signs over his storage lot (which he may or may not be dragging his feet on out of pure resentment for having to do it at all) ray's place is the best option there is.

constantine's previous (and future) storage location was a lock-up in streatham that chas had been letting him use (see: all but surrendered to him entirely) since he got out of ravenscar, but after constantine's sister died, john decided he was done with magic and, in a spontaneous fit of rage, burnt the place down with everything but a few necessities still inside. he regretted this later, when he inevitably returned to the occult scene after just over a year away, and spent a lot of time calling in favors / hypnotizing arson inspectors to try and put together an inventory of everything he'd lost.

in the nearly 20 years since the fire, he's managed to replace or find substitutes for about 2/3 of what he had (occult-wise), and gather enough fresh dirt / do enough favors / orchestrate enough compromising situations to accumulate a little over 1/4 of the political / interpersonal power he once maintained. ( the lack of success in the latter being, in part, because people now in power aren't as familiar with his name & reputation as they once were; in part because people just don't believe in magic as much as they used to, or were otherwise bought by hell / heaven / other parties a LONG time ago; and in part because he's come to absolutely fucking despise most politicians / people in power more than he is willing to work with them, or more than he is able to plausibly believe they won't try to drop him at the first opportunity. )

you would be hard-pressed to find a landlady/landlord that speaks kindly of this man. if he wasn't kicked out for suspicious smells / disturbing noises / sudden infestations / suspected satanic activity, then it's likely that he abruptly up and disappeared in the middle of the night, with no warning and no rent. (on a few occasions, this vanishing act also coincided conspicuously with a gruesome death on the premises, sometimes of the landlady/landlord themselves, although no one's ever been able to prove anything.) frankly it's . . . magic, that people still rent to him.

due to these aforementioned bad ends, he's incredibly lucky if he gets enough time or leeway to take any sort of furniture with him from one place to the next. however, there is one incredibly comfy, wing-backed, sapphire-blue armchair that's miraculously managed to survive every move in the last ten or so years without being reported stolen — even though it has survived every move because it has, in fact, been stolen in the dead of night nearly every single time, by john and at least one of his buddies.

[skitskatdacat63]

Re prev reblog. Why are there genuinely so many parallels btwn Seb and Fernando. Ik I am a delusional shipper but god, they're seriously so alike it's insane to me 😭😭 I need to make a comparison post between them inspecting cars cause it's literally the exact same!!!! Imagine them as teammates, standing around like old men, hands clasped behind their back, observing the car, discussing the legality of it. Imagine.

^ sobbing crying

[guinevereslancelot]

applied to a bunch of jobs! 😅🙏

[saym0-0]

so the mechs totally speak a pidgin language of all their native languages right. we can agree on this right. their accents are a horrific mashup of all their original ones too, to the point where every single word they say sounds heavily accented to a native speaker of the language that word came from, even if its the mech that was originally a native speaker of that language. does this make sense at all?? they're just a linguistic mess i think they deserve it