#but to use it as a tool to try again and again and again and harder and harder and harder

[impactrueno]

let's talk about shoes (stick with me here for a sec)

beetleboots beetleboots beetleboots.

what's up with the three of them wearing combat boots? they go well with each of their character designs so it's not like they look out of place with the rest of their outfits, but knowing this is tim burton and colleen atwood, these things are not mere coincidence.

(spoilers for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice below)

a common complaint i've seen people mention about Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is that "there's too many villains," but today i'm here to talk about why each of them matter in the narrative tim wanted to present here. yes the boots are related we'll get to that in a minute

delores, rory and jeremy all have one thing in common: the use of romantic betrayal in order to achieve their own selfish goals, destroying their victims in the process.

this, in turn, makes beetlejuice, lydia and astrid have another thing in common: they were the victims of these romantic betrayals.

you may think "okay but why is that necessary?"

this sequel made the interesting choice of nudging beetlejuice out of the villain role. he's now just a weird ally/deuteragonist...or perhaps even...a protagonist? but that's not enough! why should we as an audience care about him or sympathize with him?

that's where delores comes in. delores is less of a character and more of a plot device. her purpose (besides serving cunt) is to give beetlejuice backstory and be to beetlejuice what beetlejuice was to lydia, only worse. i talked a bit more about it in this post. thanks to her, we now learn that beetlejuice was a victim. not just that, she's also the looming threat beetlejuice needs to justify his marriage to lydia (he seems to be under the impression that this would help him escape delores more easily, but personally i'm not so sure, i think she's more powerful than that.) her return in combination with lydia's return to winter river is what sets his plan in motion.

rory is a pretty self-explanatory villain so i don't think we have to go into that. he wasn't out to kill lydia...but he's a golddigger, so i don't doubt he would've set something up to lead her into having a fatal accident and claim insurance benefits.

jeremy's role in the plot was to make astrid realize that she was wrong about the supernatural, as well as put her in danger in the afterlife, which is the drive lydia needs to turn to beetlejuice for help.

the role of an antagonist is to oppose or be an obstacle to the protagonist's goal. these three are the three obstacles beetlejuice needs to overcome in order to marry lydia.

first, he needs to save astrid as part of the deal with lydia. so he gets rid of jeremy to give astrid her life back. he knows exactly what it's like to be romanced into a death trap. you can tell this was satisfying for him. later, fucker.

then, he needs her fiancé rory out of the picture if he intends to marry lydia. since he knows this guy is a total piece of shit and is lying to her to lead her into the same trap he himself fell into with delores, he simply gives lydia the tools she needs to kick his ass herself. teamwork!

third comes delores. he just needs to survive delores, basically. he tries to pair her off with rory to try and kill two birds with one stone, but the stone that ends up killing them both is the sandworm that astrid summoned, which beetlejuice then guided straight to them. teamwork once again! (beetlejuice and astrid got rid of each other's problems, that's kind of cool)

these three things being taken care of means that beetlejuice can finally marry lydia.............

............except he doesn't. why? because he helped lydia. by bringing her into the afterlife to look for her daughter, he violated code 699. and he did it immediately after signing that contract. hoist by his own petard, this dumbass.

sorry i got sidetracked again. we were talking about boots, right? right right.

beetlejuice, lydia and astrid all walked in each other's shoes.

everything in this movie comes in threes. names, villains, victims, obstacles and pairs of combat boots.

[bubblegumgothglados]

How to actually train a submissive, a how to guide

+Thoughts on the pervasive misinformation surrounding punishments and their usefulness.

Step 1. Make sure your submissive actually want to be trained. I'm into dom breaking, I'm into kidnapping, I'm into all types of situations where you forcibly change a person into the perfect submissive. But that's all fantasy, and they're fun fantasies to play out with willing participants. (Yeah i know this is pretty obvious stuff, everyone should know this already, but it is an important first step and it cant hurt to repeat)

Step 2. Pick a goal. The perfect example is getting them to take their pills at the same time each day. Its something they already want to do, its something that will benefit them greatly, its something that's very obviously pass/ fail, and its simple. Those are the criteria for a good behaviour to modify (with "want to do" flipped to "don't want to do" if its a behaviour you're trying to stop). The fewer of those things are true the more difficult its going to be to get the desired result, not impossible mind you but more difficult. As you and your submissive gain experience and become more comfortable with this process you can begin to modify more complex behaviours, but keep it simple to start.

Step 3. DO reward success, DO NOT punish failure. I'm gonna let myself rant about this at the end of this guide but for the moment just believe me when i say punishments are not a useful tool in training. So reward them every time the succeed. The best rewards are small things that stimulate the pleasure centre of their brain. Praise is a great place to start, stickers, snacks, tiny animal erasers, maybe shiny treasures if they have corvid like proclivities. Whatever it is make sure you give it to them personally, make sure you show you're genuinely happy with them, and make sure its something they cant get or aren't allowed to have otherwise. If the do fail (and they will sometimes) don't reward them, don't punish them, and don't let them punish themself. They want to be good for you, they will take failure hard. You need to make sure they know failure isn't a bad thing, everyone fails sometimes especially when starting to learn something. You need to reassure them that you're not angry or sad or upset and especially not disappointed.

Step 4. Be consistent. Reward them every time until they have a perfect record for a significant period of time. The specifics of this depend too much on the specifics of the behaviour and the reward so i wont try to give guidelines. Once they have that perfect track record start reducing the frequency of the rewards, stress to them that this isn't a punishment this is a really good thing. It means the training is working and they should be proud of themself and you are proud of them. Once you've weaned them off of the reward all together give them a big reward as a congratulations. And then sporadically reward them as a reminder that you're proud of them and to keep the habit strong. If the behaviour begins to drift you might need to go back and start rewarding them again, this shouldn't be seen as failure, its a normal part of training.

Step 5. Start again. Do they still want to be trained or are they happy with where they are? Is there another behaviour you want to modify? Is it time to try a more difficult modification? Do you need to switch up the reward to keep them motivated? Do you have the bandwidth to be consistent?

Finally here is the as promised rant about punishment.

A note on brats. Specifically type 3 brats as described in THIS post. None of my advice changes. They still want to be good for you they just also want to play a fun game with you. Enjoy the fun game and train them to improve their lives. Just, don't try to train them out of being a brat, they're enjoying their game don't take away something that they enjoy, if you don't want a brat don't get with a brat.

To the submissive reading this. You don't deserve to be punished, you never deserved to be punished. Even if you were a "problem" child you didn't deserve to be hurt for it. You still don't deserve to be hurt in ways you don't want to be. To the dominant reading this, yes you can rule through fear it is possible, but gods why?! If your ultimate goal isn't for your sub to be as happy and self fulfilled as possible, whatever that looks like for them, then what the fuck are you doing. And aside from that punishment isn't even an effective method of training. A dog kicked whenever it barks will learn to fear you and wont bark around you. A child spanked whenever you feel they've done something wrong will learn to resent you and will hide everything from you. An adult punished for stealing will learn to steal more effectively. Your submissive is no different from any of those examples. Kill the cop in your head, stop thinking of punishment as a legitimate means of control.

[consciouscarrot]

strange pains | remus lupin

remus lupin x fem!reader

cw; abuse of power (doctor x patient), (much less) innocence kink, dub/con, vaginal fingering, p in v, oral (r!receiving), kisses (eek), blasphemy and god stuff, tiny tiny bit sad in places (poor reader is so sweet), rem is possessive (<3), implied daddy kink at the end, one use of y/n

notes; pt two of this fic for my lovely anon <3 thank you so very much for your patience

main m.list

your second appointment with dr lupin came quickly, having spent the past two days obsessively thinking about your doctor and the way he made you feel.

you still half considered confessing to your priest, feeling sinful for the way you clearly took advantage of the man who was only trying to help you, coming undone from his touch in a way that felt too good to be proper. instead of talking to your priest, something that would most likely end up in you being disowned and kicked out of the church, you decided to apologise when you next saw dr lupin. that way, you could atone and hopefully earn his forgiveness.

just before 6pm, you walked into the waiting room, repeating the words you’d planned to say in your head. however, at the sight of dr lupin stood at the receptionist’s desk, eyes locked on you as he slowly smiled, causing you to stumble slightly and your mind to go completely blank, so much for apologising.

“careful, sweetheart. i need you in one piece,” strong arms wrapped around you, lingering as to make sure you weren’t going to fall again.

you flushed, his head ducking down to meet your eyes when you let you head fall forwards. you whined quietly, too mortified to speak, he rubbed at your lower back kindly, guiding you down the hallway to his office.

“go straight to the bed, honey. all your clothes off and put on the gown like last time, okay?”

you nodded meekly, turning away so you were unable to see the way remus’ eyes drifted over your bare form, having to adjust himself in his trousers at the way you delicately undressed and folded your clothes tidily on the chair.

he ‘turned around’ when you said he could, snapping on his gloves before easing your feet into the stirrups and locking them in, standing between your naked legs.

“how have you been the last couple of days? any changes at all?”

you can barely think at the way his hands massaged at your legs, drifting up from your ankle towards your knee, slowly making his way up. you shifted your hips in a pathetic attempt to ease the tension, the ache deep in your belly starting up again.

“it was better when i left you, but it started up again just before bed that night, and it’s been worse ever since,” your cheeks flushed as memories flickered in your head of your last appointment, silently praying that he’d use that lovely tool attached to him again.

“oh dear, maybe i should start doing house calls with you. it sounds to me like you need some more regular attention, i’ll have a talk with your parents about it afterwards, sound good?”

his hands were now so close to your heat that you couldn’t focus, heat radiating from your body, nails digging into the bed as his fingertips grazed the edge of your cunt, teasing touches prompting you to buck your hips up.

“okay-,” you gasp sharply, his fingers finally making contact as he spreads open your pussy lips, gloves already thoroughly coated in your pooling arousal.

“you poor thing, it looks really swollen and painful right now. are you ready to start, dove? it’ll be just like last time.”

he grins at your eager nod, gliding the tip of his finger along your slit, just barely brushing over your sensitive pearl. you bit your lip, little teeth indents forming on the tender skin as you tried to hold in your noises, chest heaving beneath your dainty little cross necklace, the symbol of your devotion to something supposedly pure whilst doing something so sinful.

he gently pinched at the nub, chuckling when you flinched, head rolling back into the bed with a whine, “use your words.”

“yes please, i’m ready doctor lupin,”

“good girl,” remus hummed, pressing painfully slowly against your sopping hole, teasing touches making tears pool in your waterline, threatening to spill over. breathy moans escaped your pouting lips, hard nipples poking through the thin fabric of the medical gown. the material had slipped down your shoulders with all your wriggling, so close to exposing the soft flesh of your tits. he longed to tug it down properly, or to even rip it off fully, to make you reveal yourself to him, to lay there beneath him, vulnerable for only him.

he finally pushed inside, glistening slick coating your skin as his fingers slipped through, pumping unhurriedly in and out, sliding against that sweet spot that made you keen beneath him, back arched and eyes scrunched shut so tight that colours exploded behind your lids, such sweet moans escaping from chewed lips in the most beautiful song.

he couldn’t take his eyes off of you even if he tried, mesmerised by your movements and your mouth, almost desperate to see more of you, to make you his fully. he sped up his fingers, groaning loudly when the gown finally fell down enough to expose you to him. he had to fight to keep himself from cumming just from the sight of you. pebbled nipples arched up as the delicate flesh bounced with his motions.

you cried out, strings of mewls so pretty. he’d never heard anything as saccharine as you. you were already nearing your first orgasm of the night, thighs trembling as they tried to close themselves around him, restraints on your ankles the only thing holding you back. you writhed, hands clasping for anything to clutch onto, trying to push him away even though you needed him to keep going. it felt so good you thought you could die. you panted heavily, whining constantly until you went silent, mouth gaping as your eyes rolled back, shaking violently as you fell over the edge.

his digits pushed you through, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible, before easing his fingers out with a lewd pop, blue gloves soaked with your creamy cum. you whined at the loss, feeling so empty and desperate for more, for him.

head cloudy with lingering pleasure, you opened you eyes, meeting his gaze as you tried your best to silently beg him to continue, body heavy with exhaustion despite the need already building back up deep inside of you. thankfully for your sanity, he took pity on you, smiling down at you as he removed his gloves, tossing them in the nearby bin before easing you to sit up.

he held your body close to his, and only then did you realise that your gown had slipped down, gasping at the feel of your ripples grazing against his shirt. you flushed, clinging to him as you tried to cover yourself up.

“hey, no, no- it’s okay, you can keep it down, even take it off, if you’d like. there’s things we can do to your breasts, and i think it would help your treatment a lot, if you’re up to it.”

he half expected you to say no, to find it far too inappropriate, already regretting taking the gamble when he’d lucked out with you; a patient so pretty and so innocent he could do whatever he wanted, and you enjoyed it.

“okay, i’ve just never- um,” you buried your face in his chest, so embarrassed and aroused. you found it strange that you wanted him to see you, you wanted to feel his eyes on your bare body. you wandered if this was a side effect of your illness, or something more.

remus nearly creamed his pants at that, already knowing it but hearing you say it out loud was- fuck. he muffled his involuntary groan into your hair, breathing in the ambrosial scent of your shampoo. “no one’s ever seen you like that?” he grinned when you nodded into his shirt, “oh poppet, that’s okay. more than okay, i’d be delighted to be the first.”

he eased your head away from him, cupping your jaw to tilt your head back, his hands engulfing your smaller face. your cheeks were rosy and skin was shining with the light sweat, lip snug between your teeth as you bit down, doe eyes looking up at him so innocently as your hands slid down from his chest to just above his belt, blissfully unaware of how much you were affecting him.

he spent a few moments just watching you, caressing your skin as he tried to make you more comfortable, eyes never leaving yours. he knew that he’d never cope without you, that there could never be anyone else after meeting you. he wasn’t sure how he could go about it, how to make things happen organically without alerting your parents to his malpractice, but he’d find out a way. there was no way he’d ever let you go.

“would you like me to help you undress?”

he raised a brow at your nod, praising you when you quickly corrected yourself and nervously spoke your consent. his fingers trailed up your arms, along and over your shoulders before meeting on your back, making your shiver as he untied the strings, careful not to catch any of your hair in the knots. the material slowly slid down your arms, and you pushed off the bed slightly as he pulled it from underneath you, letting it fall to the floor.

remus trailed his eyes over your form, taking in your even curve and dimple and imperfection. you sucked in a sharp breath when he made contact with your bare skin, hands tracing and squeezing, taking in every little detail. you arched into him when he cupped at your tits, feeling your cunt pulse at the way his palm covered you, thumb rubbing at your cross briefly before he flicked your nipple.

“my god, you’re breathtaking,”

you blanched slightly at the blasphemy, not used to people talking about god like that, and certainly not from seeing you naked. you guessed that meant you were very pretty,

“thank you, sir,”

his cock twitched at that, and he longed to fill you with his seed again, but he wanted to taste you more. he’d known that it was too soon last time, but feeling you now, he couldn’t resist. he needed to feel you on his tongue as your naked body shook for him, and only ever him.

“are you ready for the next part, sweet dove?”

“yes sir, please it’s starting to hurt again,”

laying you back down, he let you watch him unbuckle his belt, teasing down the zipper, making you wait for what you knew was coming next. you whimpered at the sight of his hard cock, eyes widening at your first proper look at the ‘medical tool’. you were shocked to find it skin coloured, pale flesh with a couple of protruding veins running up the side to the tip, which was an angry red, leaking some sort of clear fluid, dripping down his cock.

if you’d been in your right mind, you would’ve questioned it, suspicion souring the experience as you would’ve started to think that this wasn’t a normal treatment. however, with one orgasm already mollifying the rational anxious part of your mind, you only cared about getting the tool inside of you and soothing this horrendous ache.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of it as he palmed your cunt, coating his hand in slick before using it to lube himself up, reading himself and tappping the tip against your soaked slit, remus’ focus shifting to your face to make sure you were ready.

you both groaned when he finally began to sink into you, heavy cock forcing your silky walls to accommodate him, steadily pushing in until your hips met, stretching you open. it somehow felt bigger than last time, maybe from the way he stood still for a minute, head tipped back as he breathed slowly, barely able to cope with the way you squeezed him so tight.

you watched him through blurred eyes, tears clouding your vision at the desperation that tore at you, thighs trembling around his body as you tried your best to patiently wait for more. you were a good girl, you swear. just needed to prove it and you’d get what you wanted, had to show him.

only when you let out a tiny sob did he look back down at you, brows furrowed in concern at the distressed noise, so sad sounding that it pulled at his heartstrings. he gave you his hand when you reached for him, letting you cling and fiddle anxiously at his fingers.

“what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“need you, please. wanna feel like that again- i’ll be good, promise,”

“fuck, honey. okay- okay. you are being good, so good f’me. i’ll give you what you want, i always will,” he pulled out until only the tip was left inside of you, waiting until you clenched down around it to thrust back in quickly, wasting no time in warming you up when you were already so soaked and pliant for him, and only him.

you were given no option but to take it, still clutching at his one hand with both of yours, his other grasping your hip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he left little purple and blue bruises there, marking you as a reminder of how he makes you feel. you were excited to feel over them later in front of a mirror, to take a couple of polaroids to capture the memory and press down on them until the sweet pain sent shocks of pleasure to your cunt.

“oh- please, feels so good,”

“so tight around me, taking it so well,”

he fucked you so deliciously, you both let every sound out, your moans and whimpers intwining with his groans and grunts, creating a song that would play in his head when he fisted his cock to the thought of you whenever he couldn’t have you near.

he treasured you like your mama always said a man should, he made you feel oh so good, head empty with everything but him. no one else had ever occupied your mind like remus had. sure, he was openly blasphemous and he wasn’t religious, so your daddy would never approve, but you didn’t care. as long as you were forever his and he was yours, you would never care about your daddy’s opinion again.

your high built up, toes curling in the stirrups as you clung to him the best you could, slick coating his thick cock as he pounded into you, most definitely creating a mess. his free hand slipped from your hip, causing you to be jostled further up the bed as he started swirling tight circles onto your clit.

he knew you were enjoying the more sensual side of sex that he’d shown you, but he briefly wondered how you’d react to him being a little rougher with you, maybe a scarred hand wrapped around your pretty little neck, fingertips pressing lightly into the sides as your tight pussy spasmed around him.

instead, he settled for leaning down, his warm breath tickling your breasts as you arched your back into him, screaming when his lips enclosed around your nipple, teeth grazing the tender skin. but, only when his mouth deviated did you cum for him, he hovered between your tits, glanced up at you, holding eye contact as he sucked your cross necklace into his mouth, teeth holding it between his scarred lips.

you knew in the back of your mind that this had gone too far, but it just felt too good. his mouth was perfect. you cried out, tears trickling down your cheeks as pleasure thrummed through you, fluid squirting out around his cock as he continued to fuck you, hips speeding up at your unrestrained noises.

remus’ cock twitched uncontrollably at the way you milked him, walls constricting so tightly around him that it almost hurt. his balls tightened, and he folded more into you, head buried between your tits as his mouth gaped open, cross falling from between his teeth as he came inside of you, filling you up to the hilt.

you both panted, bodies covered in a light sheen of sweat that made his shirt stick to his skin, still fully clothed as pushed up, hair flopping down from where it had been so perfectly styled to the now messy locks, strands curling slightly at the ends.

you both groaned when he pulled out, you hating the horribly empty feeling and him from overstimulation. you were barely aware of him tucking his cock back in his boxers, only sign being his belt clinking as you fought to stay conscious, still wracked with the onslaught of the powerful aftershocks that left you shaking, growing disappointment filling you that it was over already.

“are you up to trying else something new today? i promise it’ll feel very good,”

head still spinning from pleasure, you had no choice but to comply, almost too fucked out to even register that remus was speaking to you. you nearly blacked out at the feeling of a soft, wet muscle gliding over your clit, heartbeat pounding in your ears as he began to lick at you, pearly cum leaking out of you and onto his tongue, making him groan at the taste of your combined fluids. he sucked and slurped, cleaning you up with his mouth, making you writhe uncontrollably and mewl loudly.

still ever so sensitive from your previous orgasms, you didn’t last long, stuttered breaths causing your lungs to ache from the lack of oxygen before you fell apart, the blood rushing around your head too loud to hear the sugary praises murmured by remus, repeated “good girl,”s and “thaaat’s it, there you go, baby.”

you completely consumed his every thought, and he knew he’d spend the next couple of days until your next routine appointment replaying this moment in his head again and again, the way your head tipped back, back arching once again and hair mussing on the thin pillow. the way you screamed at the pleasure that only he could give you. the way you tasted on his tongue, the tanginess and sweetness of your cum that could never be replicated.

you collapsed back against the bed, body quivering from the intensity. he rubbed at your thighs soothingly, massaging at the sore muscles that had now relaxed, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, one just above your clit just so that he could hear you whimper again.

“say thank you,” he teased, voice low and honeyed, unable to keep the smile from it.

“thank you- mm- thank you, sir,”

“feeling any better?”

“mhm, much. i think you…” you trailed off, head lulling to the side sleepily.

he chuckled quietly, not wanting to disturb your peace as he unbuckled the restraints on your ankles, “you think i…” he prompted gently, before he carefully cleaned you up with a warm, damp cloth.

“i think you broke me, feels so good. m’like jelly,”

he couldn’t help but smile, his rough hands sliding beneath your bare back to pull you up, encouraging your head against his chest again. his heart fluttered when you melted into him, fully allowing yourself to go slack in his hold. you trusted him so much, he felt a little guilty that he’d taken advantage of you in such a vulnerable way, but he knew that this might’ve been the only way he could’ve gotten to have you. and now that he’d had you, he could never let you go.

he brushed stray hairs out of your face, the strands damp with sweat from where they’d stuck to your skin. resting his chin on the top of your head, he savoured the moment as much as possible, clutching your naked body close to clothed one,

“your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, glass heart so hopeful that he might be feeling the same as you, biting you lip as you pulled back to meet his eyes again.

he leant down slightly, his face was so close to yours, far closer than appropriate. a part of your naïve, little self couldn’t bear that you were participating in something that god wouldn’t approve of, with someone that you weren’t even close to married to, but you still loved it. and you still allowed him to do anything he wanted to you.

his attention flicked between your eyes, his brown irises consumed by the blown out pupils, before it flicked down to your rosy lips. he held your face, just enough to keep you in place as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your milky teeth.

you gasped when he closed the gap, eyelids fluttering shut as you pressed against him, unsure movements showing your inexperience as you desperately tried to copy the way his lips moved against yours. he took it slow with you, wanting to savour it and not make you panic, but also enough to entice you, to make you need more, not just want.

remus swiped his tongue along your mouth, taking advantage of the way you gasped again, swirling it inside briefly before drawing back, allowing you a moment to breathe. you trailed after him, trying to follow his lips for more.

smiling, he leant your foreheads together, still keeping you close as you panted, having not yet learnt how to breathe and kiss at the same time. it was okay, he’d love to teach you. in fact, he needed to be the only one to teach you these things, wanted to be your first and last.

the two of you spent as long as possible just holding each other there, silently sucking in each others heat. he eventually moved back, leisurely redressing you with sweet kisses in-between each item. a kiss to your hipbone for your underwear. a kiss to the tip of your nose for your top. a kiss to the sole of your foot for your socks, making you squeal.

as you slowly came back down, you began to realise that what had happened was definitely sin, but you wondered why god was so against something that felt so good. why would he not want you to be happy, when this was certainly the happiest you had ever been.

remus eased you to stand, holding you up in case you still wobbly legs gave out, but also to selfishly steal as much affection from you until two more days time. he wasn’t sure how he was going to last that long without feeling you, touching you and tasting you. he yearned to take you home and teach you everything he knew. to taste you until the sun came up, and then a little more. he was infatuated with you.

one hand on your back, the other cupping the back of your head, he bent his head down, nuzzling your nose lovingly before kissing you again. you couldn’t get enough of the feeling, kisses with him were indescribable, you only wished that you could get to do it more.

you giggled when he turned around, handing you a red lollipop meant for little kids, unwrapping it for you as he tentatively watched you wrap your lips around the sweet, not realising the not so innocent thoughts that were tormenting his head.

“did so very well for me today, you’re responding perfectly to the treatments. i think we will go ahead with making these appointments house calls, and much more regular visits too. how would you feel about that?”

you nodded eagerly, gasping excitedly at the thought of him being around more often, and maybe even in your bedroom, “yes please, but you’ll have to talk to my daddy.”

“of course, i’ll be looking forward to seeing you again, y/n,” he smoothed down your hair, returning your grin. luckily for him, you missed the way his eyes darkened at the way you referred to your father, and the way he had to subtly rearrange his already re-firming cock beneath his trousers.

remus walked you to your parents car again, his hand straying a little too low when no one was around. your father didn’t hesitate to agree to the house calls, nor to the even more regular appointments when he saw you beaming, visibly happier than you’d been in months, if not years.

you couldn’t wait to see remus again, nor him you. when he returned back to his office after waving you off, he couldn’t help but palm at his length, thinking of all the things he’d be able to do to you in the very near future.

[gem-de-lune]

Flash Reading: SM's Statement on Seunghan

No intro lesgo aorry if there is any typos this was a very emotion heavy read and all the members are freaking tf out.

READ THE VIBE CHECK 11/15 PRIOR TO THIS READING FOR CONTEXT: HERE

How does Riize feel/what are they doing?

Do you recognize this Page of Cups? Yes. This was literally just in my Full Moon Reading regarding how this Moon was affecting Riize or rather their ultimate interaction with SM. They are going to make their emotions and intentions on this matter very very clear probably unexpectedly on SM's side. The 7 of Swords indicates they were blindsided, and the 10 of swords in this deck indicate they are overwhelmed with this feeling of being "put down". Idk how to describe this perfectly but it's like when you are so full of absolute outrage all you can do is stomp over to the person and literally seethe as you feel like you are being ignored.

How does Seunghan feel?

The Moon + Strength + The Hermit

Does he want this?

The Devil

Bro wants to hide away completely. He isnt sure what to feel. He was not blinsided here and he knew. But in classic Libra fashion he has been told what his options are and wanted to see if he could try. He is regretting it already knowing what he will have to do all alone by himself. He does not want to be a soloist. He is scared. He is barely managing to keep himself subdued. As I read this i am almost tearing up. He tried lying multiple times during the reading and If you read the way I do for individuals you know what I mean because you end up feeling what they are feeling physically and the cards don't make sense.

Anyways, he is so so so low in confidence rn. He at a point felt like it was kind of SM to even offer a solo debut, but now he knows its really a death sentence and strategy they are using to save Riize. He wants to help Riize, but he also did not want this outcome. I am so so sick to my stomach reading this bc he is so so sad and so so riddled with anxiety and fear of not knowing what will happen.

What will SM do in Response?

Knight of Swords

Extra pulls that flew out when asking for clarification and if their statement would be retracted

The Magician (flew) + King of Cups (fell out and didnt notice until i move my hand)

Recognize this Knight again? Yes this is the card pulled in Vibe Check for the full moon saying swift action will be taken. With the Magician and King of Cups we are seeing someone with the power and tools to do so taking action on the matter. With the King of cups we are actually seeing an ounce of empathy and understanding on a fundamental level (shocking).

But the fact that the Page of Cups for Riize and the Knight of Swords for SM literally showed up here is NOT a coincidence. It means this is all a part of the plan to turn things around unexpectedly.

Bottom of the deck:

The High Priestess

YALL IDK HOW CLEARER I CAN BE

She is saying to trust your intuition and follow that path with every ounce of your being. My intuition is telling me this isn't the end and the truth, and what is right will prevail. There is absolutely no better indication of that than the Priestess. If you have any ounce of intuition you KNOW what is happening right now and you KNOW what is right. Follow that feeling.

This is not the end. SM is trying to console people because they SEE the numbers, and they don't like it. This is the sale pity party prize they gave Lucas. I, for one, have had enough of their antics. This is where it stops. Do. Not. Fall. For. This.

[revelboo]

Hello, sorry if I'm being annoying. But I’d love to see something with IDW Ratchet or Tarn if you could write anything with them—especially Ratchet. I just don’t see enough good stories about him. I really enjoy your writing style and can’t get enough of it. Sorry for any mistakes; English isn’t my first language.

Sure, I’ve been meaning to do an IDW Ratchet. Tarn’s on my list, too, but he and Ratchet will likely be the last new characters for a while. I’m currently over 30 ongoing storylines at this point 😅

Feel Like Rain

IDW Ratchet x Reader

• Sometimes it’s all too much. Even with First Aid helping, there’s just not enough medics in the Ark to support so many Autobots. Wheeljack and Perceptor can help if push comes to shove, but even then once the fighting begins again it won’t be enough. He’s never enough. And when he can’t get his processor right, when it threatens to drown him, he goes driving in his alt mode. Feels the sun baking him, the sand and hot asphalt under his tires. No real destination in mind, just trying to calm the panic that’s always there, the worry about what might happen. Driving for hours sometimes in a widening spiral about the Ark. Never going too far in case he’s needed. As he turns, he almost misses the car down in a crevice, only part of the bumper still visible, emergency lights flashing. Not his problem, but he’s still slowing anyway. Because he’s still a medic and someone might be hurt.

• Transforming and sliding down next to the car, he lays a hand on the roof feeling the heat of the metal and knowing it’s been there a while. Leaning to look inside anyway, there’s a human slumped forward against the wheel, broken glass glittering in their hair. Unmoving. Too late, then. Spark constricting, he’s turning away, pushing off the car to make the metal groan, when their little fingers flex and you make a low, guttural noise of pain that freezes him.

• It takes time to carefully peel back the roof of the car, snap the seatbelt and pull the door off to remove you. Feeling how hot your skin is against his servos as he lifts your limp form. Your eyes never open but you mumble incoherently, broken fragments he can’t make sense of. That make him wonder just how long you’ve been here, trapped and waiting to die. Because there’s no leaving you now that he has you in his hands. Carefully transforming around you to carry back to the Ark.

• Wheeljack’s in Medbay when he returns, digging through his tools and looking up guiltily, vocal indicators flickering green before he notices the human. “Haven’t seen that one before. Looks rough,” Wheeljack murmurs, moving closer as Ratchet lays you on a berth, your tiny form looking even smaller in the bot sized space. He’s almost absurdly glad Wheeljack’s there. Even though he’s been trying to brush up on human medicine since there’s so many of them now in the Ark, he doesn’t know nearly enough. Doesn’t know how to help you, but Wheeljack has a human. He has to know something.

• Snatching a scanner to run over you, he frowns at the results. Wrist and arm broken, one leg fractured. Body temperature well outside of normal parameters, dehydrated. Blood pressure off from normal, too. And he doesn’t know enough to know which problem is a priority. Which will kill you if he doesn’t fix it first. “Get your human,” he says softly. Temperature? It’s a place to start, cooling you off. “Now, Wheeljack,” he adds without looking up when the other bot doesn’t immediately move. Using a servo to brush your hair from your face, he can see the glass glittering on your skin and in your hair. “You held on this long.”

[almayver]

Dome decided to share a bit of the PP Bible!!! (All the text is thanks to google translate, sorry) (This is LONG)

Part I - What is the Bible? This is what Phi O taught Dome. It is a tool that helps the team see the overall picture of the project. Sometimes, just the script may not be enough for the team to see the picture or see the direction of the work that Dome will direct. So this was created. It will consist of many things, from mood & tone, color scheme, cinematography style, etc., which are quite detailed. For example, the color scheme, Dome has to divide it. In the actual film and the promotional work or graphic work, they must have different colors. This is due to communication reasons and the chosen direction. But the main thing is mostly personal preference.

PART II 📒 Storytelling - To make it easier for the team to understand the 12 episodes of ON SALE within 10 minutes during the first meeting (if we read the script ourselves, it would take at least a day or two), Dome summarized the whole story for the team to see.

📒 Genre - What type of movie is Haunted House? Phi O forced us to choose only 3 types. At that time, Dome chose Heartwarming Spooky Comedy. At first, he used the word Scary, but Phi O said, "Isn't it that scary?" Let's change the word. — The main reason for dividing the movie types clearly was so that the team could understand each other that, "Hey, Phi, this movie actually has many more genres than that." So we had to divide the percentages. When writing a script or working on different parts and feeling confused about the mood and tone, try to look back at this pie chart so that you can find the right path. The actual result was not exactly the same. Drama 5% like this, is that right? 5555

📒 Logline - The synopsis or you can call it a plot. In the Thai film industry, it is used in a confusing way in each place. The assignment that Dome gave himself was How to tell it concisely, to make it understandable. After reading it, I felt like I wanted to watch this movie. I can tell the type of movie completely in one logline.

📒 Archetype - Brother O asked me to summarize the haunted house in 3 concrete ways, which must tell the story of the movie as much as possible and also have some abstract meanings hidden in it. Dome ended up summarizing 3 things. The first is Haunted House, which I argued with Brother O again about what kind of haunted house you have, a real haunted house or a haunted house in an amusement park. Well, it must be a haunted house in an amusement park. It meets the comedy requirement more. — The next is Bro, Homie. When our main characters are Home and Peach, it is a relationship between men who are not romantically in love like a couple. But that's it. When it is done, it becomes a male friendship that is suspicious until it ends up like that. I blame Brother Taynew too. 5555 Just kidding. — The last one is Dinner Table because it feels like a concrete, warm Asian style.

📒 Story Arc - The act of the movie. How many acts will this movie have that clearly divide the proportions of where the story is going now? And where will it end? Dome divides it into 4 main lines — the first line is Outer, what is the story, which property, what ghosts did you encounter? — The next line is Inner, going into a bit more detail, adding in the character's feelings, what is the main mission of the episode, what is the end result of the episode? — The last two lines are a summary of the act of the film, what is the Theme and which direction is the film taking the audience?

PART III 📒 Character - Who are our 4 main characters? What do they do? What kind of people are they? Dome has summarized them briefly and clearly. Plus, as a nerd (pretending to be smart), I happened to read The Eight Characters of Comedy by Scott Sedita. The summary is that he teaches how to write 8 types of comedy characters. No matter what situation or equation you put in, if there are characters like this together, there should be some comedy. If you are a nerd, try reading it. Dome has used this until it became a muscle for the 7 years since he started this career.

📒 Chemistry - Once we saw the images of the 4 main characters, let's summarize the chemical equation of this ghostbusting gang a bit. Use the principles of MBTI and Cognitive Function to make it easier to understand. This slide was used since the pilot was filmed because Dome and the actors did not have the opportunity to workshop before filming. At that time, I showed it to P'Ten, New, Muk, and Jan so that they could understand each other immediately in the limited time.

📒 Costume - Make a rough guide for the costume team to see that How does Dome see the characters dress? What kind of look do they wear? Do they wear accessories? What are their personal items? What color do they like to wear? When the costumers see it, they can develop it further. On the costume side, they will continue to make something called a Costume book, which is a costume bible specifically. It goes into great detail. For example, today Home will wear this outfit and this color because Home feels this way right now. It is consistent with the story in this episode. And there is also an overview of each EP. Do they go together? — The real Costume book takes many days to make, choosing the details of each outfit and each episode. And there are many outfits that were not used in the story because there was no place to put them. What a shame, lol.

All of these are just examples from the 4 main characters. We haven’t included supporting characters, guest characters, and ghosts in the story. So, multiply the three topics above. How many more characters are there? How many more pages do we need to make? (Bragging again)

PART IV 📒 Episode bible - If you have read this far, everyone should understand the benefits of making a bible. Each episode needs to make a separate bible for each episode. That means you have to go back and do it from PART I to PART III for each episode. It is not strange that there are more than a hundred slides. In conclusion, the team that criticizes is tired. 5555 Just kidding.

Apart from the Direction bible, other teams also have their own separate bibles, such as the Ghost bible, which is a bible that is purely about ghosts in the story. For example, who the ghosts are, what they look like, what is the cause of death? — The Food bible is a bible of all the food in the story, what menus are there, how to cook the food, etc. — Each team makes their own bible in detail so that everyone can understand and see the same picture as much as possible. This doesn't even mention the Cinematography, Art Direction, Location, Extra characters, etc. There are so many more. It is so detailed. Just thinking about it makes me discouraged. 5555

That's all for bragging. Anyway, thank you very much to everyone who read up to this point 🥳

PS. Recorded on NOV 14, 2024. If any knowledge is wrong, I'll be honest. It's Dome's knowledge and understanding at this time. If it causes anyone any inconvenience, I apologize. 🙏🏽

[harmonyrae]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 14 - Right Here

I’d like to apologize for this chapter, it’s gonna hurt. Like angst doesn't even begin to describe this. Also, this is completely my own head cannon & is ABSOLUTELY NOT lore accurate (as far as we know).

Photo: From Pinterest, all credit to original poster NSFW: Mentions/Depictions of violence, PTSD, torture, death

Your armchair is not as comfortable as you remember. You sit with your knees curled up to your chest. Your hoodie pulled down over your knees, your arms hugging your legs. You rest your chin on your knee, trying to organize your thoughts. You try to imagine you are so small that no one will know you’re even there. 

The lights are dimmed, you can barely see Sylus sprawled out on the floor of the cage. You remember the night you first brought Sylus here. You were so confident, how did you end up here again? 

You replay that night in your head. His voice echoing in your ear. You stare blankly at his unconscious form, digging your fingernails into your palms willing yourself not to cry.

"I’d hate to disappoint you Miss Hunter."

But he did.

"But her mind… that’s what is most fascinating. It’s brilliant, calculated, and somewhat haunting."

And now it’s haunted by him. His voice. His touch. His empty promises.

"Seems like everything about you is special, kitten."

You were a means to an end. A tool to be used and tossed aside. Nothing special.

A soft groan brings you back to the present. You see Sylus roll away from you and onto his side. His back muscles tensing as he tries to ground himself. He reaches a hand up to the side of his neck. He lets out a soft grunt as his fingers trace the sensitive flesh where the needle deposited the heavy drug. He sits up and scans the room, his eyes straining against the darkness.

You hold your breath. You know he can crush the doors of the cage and simply walk out. But this is the only place you could think of bringing him. You could at least lock him in the lower levels of your tower long enough to evacuate everyone else if it came to that. You take a deep breath before using your phone to turn up the lights. Sylus’ eyes snap to yours in an instant. He was usually hard to read, his emotions hidden behind a wall. But when you look at him, you can see he is raw and broken. 

You pull your hoodie up to release your legs, you shiver as the cold air hits your bare skin. You stand and slowly make your way closer to the cage. The room is eerily quiet, the soft pitter patter of your bare feet on the linoleum echoing through the room. As you approach the cage, Sylus shifts to face you. He makes no attempt to stand up. He draws one leg up and props his arm on his knee. 

“There’s a shirt on the chair.” Your voice is void of emotion. You barely recognize it.

Sylus glances over to the chair to see the sweater you brought for him to put on. He returns his gaze to you. His eyes have glazed over, if it wasn’t for his ragged breathing you’d think he was perfectly calm. He tilts his head as he looks you over. From your head to your toes, it doesn’t feel sensual this time, he’s sizing you up. Trying to determine your motives.

“Why?” 

One word. That’s all he says. The base in his voice is amplified, the simple question rings in your ear. You straighten up, your eyes narrow and you cross your arms. You’re the motherfucking leader of Himitsu, time to act like it.

“That is the question of the hour, isn’t it Oni?”

At the mention of his code name, his eyes close. He drops his head. He sighs deeply before looking up to you once more.

“Did the kid tell you before you killed him or did you dig that up on your own?” His words cut through you like a razor.

“Have you heard of a hacker who goes by the name of Macintosh?” Sylus nods. “He’s on my payroll. Took him less than 24 hours to narrow it down once he had the burner.” 

His jaw clenches. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, his eyes finally dropping to the floor.

“Bit of advice. Tossing a burner off the pier is not the most effective disposal method.” Sylus chuckles. 

“And what would you suggest then, kitten?” 

That’s when you lose it. 

“Don’t fucking call me that. I’m not your goddamn kitten. But I am, apparently, your plaything, right? Distract me, fool me, fuck me. Was that your plan? So you could stroll into my territory and do as you please? Attack my clients? Destroy Himitsu?”

Sylus jumps to his feet and stalks over towards. He tries to grab you through the bars, but you’ve moved far enough back. He uses his evol to pull you forward. Before you reach the bars your gun is in your hand. Your body slams against the bars, you look up to see the barrel of your gun resting at the center of Sylus’ forehead. He doesn’t back away or try to pry the gun out of your hand. He rests his head against the barrel and holds your upper arms tightly against the bars. 

“Do you really think I fucked you as a distraction?” 

You can’t stop your bottom lip from quivering. The tears you’ve held back threaten to fall once more. You take a deep breath and try to force a smile.

“I wouldn’t be surprised at this point. You’ve lied about everything else.” 

“I’ve never lied about how I feel about you. I can’t.” 

“But you did lie.” Sylus finally reaches a hand up to your face, holding your chin steady. His thumb slowly brushes against your jaw.

“I’m sorry.” 

You break away from him. He doesn’t try to pull you back. You drop your gun on the table next to your armchair. Your fingers rake through your hair as you try to calm down. When you turn back to Sylus, he has an arm propped above his head leaning against the bars of the cage. His other hand extended through the bars to you.

“Please let me tell you why. Why Ridgeway and why I couldn’t tell you.”

You stare at him. His bare chest and strong arms make you ache for him. Your body craves him and it hurts to resist. Your heart hammers in your chest. Should you give him the chance? Your mind drifts to earlier that morning. Sitting in the tub, your body pressed against his, his voice in your ear, that heartbreaking tone as he tells you about your shared Aether fragments.

"You wished we could be free. And I made you a promise, that I would find a way for you to be free."

Your heart wanted nothing more than to reach out to him. To hold him close. You see his arm drop and retreat back into the cage, his head pressing against the bar. You take a cautious step forward. His eyes flutter up to meet yours. You wrap your arms around yourself.

“Why?” 

“Ridgeway has a brother. Goes by Sinclair. He’s a member of the board for a medical tech company. I needed information on Sinclair and I was hoping Ridgeway had records that could lead me to whatever hole he has crawled into.”

“Why are you hunting Sinclair? And how does burning down Ridgeway Liquors help you with that? And why couldn’t you have just talked to me about this?” 

“I needed to send a message to Sinclair. His family will suffer if he crosses a line. I couldn’t tell you… I couldn’t…” He struggles to form the words, he starts to tap his head on the bars. Slowly building the intensity until his forehead is red.

You close the distance and grab onto his hand that has reached up to hold onto a bar. He stops and looks down at you. His eyes are hazy, a tear finally falls.

“I couldn’t risk them finding you.”

You blink rapidly, trying to process what he could mean. 

“Sinclair was one of the doctors that worked on us. He’s looking for you.” 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head.

“I made a promise to you. I promised I’d find a way for you to be free. And I found a way. As long as I knew you were safe, I could deal with what they did to me. But when I heard he was leaving to look for you, I couldn’t let that happen. You’ve kept your identity hidden, it’s bought you time. But if he finds out, he’ll come for you. You being unaware kept you safe, at least that's what I convinced myself.” 

“What do they want with me?”

“You’re an energy source. The most pure and regenerative source ever discovered.”

“Is it the Aether core? What about you?”

“The Aether core amplifies your evol, changes it. Possibly adding to it if you’re unlucky. They used me for… honestly, I don’t know how long. But my energy isn’t enough it seems.”

“Is Sinclair working alone or…” 

“The group he runs, their slogan is A New Kind of Energy for a Brighter Tomorrow - safe to say he most likely has a small army hunting us.”

“I thought I knew every major corporation in the Zone.”

“It’s not in the Zone. It’s in Linkon. But they have their people everywhere.”

“What’s the name?”

“Ever.”

Your heart skips a beat. The name feels burned into your memory. But something Sylus said before is the only thing you can think of. You are afraid to ask, but it’s tearing you up inside.

“You said you could deal with what they did to you… What did they do?” 

Sylus drops his gaze to your hand, still wrapped around his hand on the bar. You see his eyes dim, as if he has retreated into his mind. You squeeze his hand, reassuring him.

“After I helped you escape, they punished me. More experiments, more surgeries. As I became more powerful they put more security measures in place. I can’t access all of my power. They called it a 'bio-metric inhibitor'. All I remember is I couldn’t get out of bed for weeks. Eventually they installed a patch over my eye so I couldn’t control anyone. My cell was the energy conduit they used to…”

He looked up at you now, the pain in his eyes so great you could hardly breathe. You hadn’t noticed you had started crying. He brings his arm down to reach through the bars and brush the tears away. You lean into his touch.

“I’ll stop.”

“No. Sylus. Please tell me.” He takes a deep breath before looking down to stare at his feet.

“The regenerative part… when they drain the energy… it… it kills you.” A sob escapes your throat. Sylus doesn’t look up.

“When they first tested their theory… they chose you. No matter how much I begged and fought, they took you away. And when you came back, you had no idea who I was. After that, I spent every day, every hour, every minute working on a plan for you to escape. A month later, I succeeded. You were free. I don’t know how long it was before they needed another energy transference but when they strapped me down I found myself hoping to forget. To forget losing you. But then I woke up. And I remembered everything. My first surgery when they cut into my eye, the first time I saw you, the first time we touched, the first time we kissed, the first time we made love, every time there was pain in your eyes, the fear in them when I put you on the shuttle…”

His grip on the bars was weakening, his body shaking as he spoke. You were frozen, listening to what he went through, for you. Your heart ached. But nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

“And I remembered how it felt to die. Pain so intense I wanted to tear myself in half. Blinding heat then complete stillness then everything was cold. So fucking cold. And dark. It was completely dark, no light anywhere, I searched for days but it was just dark. I found myself wishing for pain and then I’d feel it, like a knife in my chest, my heart started again. I opened my eyes and I was back. I don’t remember how many times I died. I stopped counting. But every time I woke up I would look for you. Wishing that my previous life was a dream and you were still there with me. And every time I would see your empty room and… and I…” 

His voice finally broke. His grip on the bars faltered and he sank to the floor. He pulled his legs up to his chest, for the first time he looked small. You ran to the door of the cage and pressed your thumb to the lock. The door swung open and you rushed inside, crashing down next to Sylus, your arms wrapping around him. You pull his head to your chest and run your fingers through his silver hair. His body was shaking and he didn’t dare touch you. He wouldn’t even look at you. Desperate to bring him back to you, you start placing gentle kisses to his shoulders and up to his neck. You see his eyes close and you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his torso. Your arms pull him back towards you. You caress his chest and place kisses on his back.

You sit like that for what feels like hours until one of his hands reaches up to take yours. He strokes your palm slowly. 

“Y/N…?” 

“I’m here. I’m right here.” 

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer

[ascendedice]

A guide on speaking to/channeling spirits.

I also posted that in my witchy discord server! inv: https://discord.gg/N57k5YKHcG

CHANNELING SPIRITS 101 Channeling spirits is one of the most fun, interesting and complex things to do in witchcraft. A lot of you might have done that already when talking with you deities, but this is a guide that will focus more on the general things.

Before we begin with the guide, I want to list some REALLY IMPORTANT THINGS YOU MUST READ BEFORE TRYING ANY OF THIS.

1. Always respect spirits.

Doesn't matter if it's a random one, or your own spirit guide, always approach them with respect. Don't worry, intrusive thoughts don't count, it's your intention that matters.

2. Your permission and boundaries hold power.

It's a good idea to NEVER trust a random spirit with your permission, especially if it's about something personal. You can and It's recommended to, to place boundaries. Let the spirits know your rules, state them so they don't do anything you don't want them to. Also respect their boundaries if they have any. If you aren't comfortable with that, just say goodbye.

3. Channeling drains your energy. Don't overdo it, ground yourself before and after and make sure you are feeling okay.

Be cautious with how much you do it, make sure you don't force yourself while you're tired or anything.

4. Be protected.

It's a good idea to ALWAYS have protection on you, but you should do additional/temporary protection. Spirits cannot harm you at all if you're protected, so you have nothing to worry about if you are!

WHAT CAN YOU CHANNEL?

Pretty much everything. You can speak to your ancestors, random positive spirits around you or you can call upon any deity/god. (If you're a reality shifter, you can also channel people from your DR.)

HOW TO CHANNEL SPIRITS.

1. Cast a circle, do your protection and ground yourself.

You don't have to do that when speaking to deities, but it's a good idea overall to have some sort of protection.

2. Invoke the entity you want to speak to. Hold your cards/pendulum/other divination tool, invoke the spirit! "I invite in any positive and helpful entity here to speak to me through [divination tool.]" is a good way to go. Make sure to focus, be clear with your intentions and you should feel when it's ready.

3. Ask your questions. Speak with them. If you use tarot cards, just ask the question normally while focusing on the entity you're speaking to. It's about intuition, you will know when to stop shuffling and what to look at. (NOTE: Tarot cards often tend to fall off when speaking to spirits especially, don't ignore these cards.)

4. When you're done, thank the spirit(s) and say your goodbyes! You can say "thanks for your messages, I release you and peace and light, goodbye." and you will be okay. Afterwards, cleanse your space and ground yourself again and you'll be done.

That's it, I hope that's helpful, make sure to ask me if you have any questions!!

[calware]

You might've answered something like this before but how do you pick colours for your art? Your choices are always so striking, visually interesting and delightful. I would love to learn your ways. (also hi)

WAAHHHH THANK YOU <3 <3 (also hi!!) first of all i do have a post from quite a while back with some general tips that you can check out, but my process has changed a bit since then so i can definitely elaborate a little bit more!

observation

this first tip is not very straightforward (sorry) but something i try to do is pay attention to the colors and lighting in the real world and try to remember what moments really stick with me. like when you're watching the sunset and the light from the sky washes everything in pink and tints the buildings orange, or when it's dusk and the light blue of the sky contrasts with the dark blues of everything that's in shadow, or looking in a lake and all the greens, browns, and blues mix together in rich jewel tones

i try to keep track of these things & the emotions they make me feel (almost like taking notes in a mental journal) so i can try referencing them when i want a certain drawing to feel a certain way. AGAIN this is really not straightforward and i don't really know how helpful it actually is...? but i find that observation can be a really helpful tool and i find myself doing it a lot

references

sort of the same as the last point BUT using preexisting photos and artwork instead! this one is more straightforward because you can actually reference them as you are drawing. i said this in the other post i made but i think that looking at other images and asking yourself "how is the artist/photographer using the colors to make it look this way? how do i recreate that?" and using that as a way to study their use of colors can be really helpful. if you find a drawing that has cool colors, try using those colors in your own drawings and see how they look!

that said, i would try to avoid color-picking things directly because i find that if you try choosing them on your own you 1) gain a better understanding of what you're doing 2) have more control over what you're doing and 3) you can "push" your colors in ways you might not if you color-pick directly

play with contrasting hues

i think this might just be a personal preference, but i find that i'm not as big of a fan of monochromatic images, and i prefer it when drawings utilize a wide variety of hues. this goes especially for ones that implement more contrast in the hues (not necessarily where the colors have more contrast in value, but rather contrast as in they're further apart on the color wheel)

for example, in this drawing, everything is washed in green light except for rose's skin, which is a very saturated reddish-brown. this is sort of what i mean by "pushing" the colors because, in a realistic setting, a person sitting in green lighting is going to have a more greenish-looking skin tone (like in this drawing). you can see this in how the whites of the drawing—her hair and eyes—are greenish, but i made the stylistic choice to not do the same with her skin to create contrast between the two hues

i edited the one on the bottom to match the green-ness of the rest of the image, and the effect is pretty noticeable! green light makes people look less lively, almost sickly (which is good to use if that's the feeling you want to show, of course)

another small example of this is in this drawing where i use a couple of different hues in davesprite's body. overall, it registers as orange, but i like to ever-so-slightly introduce a bit of green to contrast with the orange, letting the lightest values tip into the greens instead of stopping at yellow to contrast with the muted red in the wings. the darkest values are purple, which also contrasts with the yellow parts. the only hue missing from this image is blue! the colors are all still analogous, and the greens and purples are a lot less saturated than the oranges and yellows, so nothing clashes and overall leads to a more subtle contrast

the colors on the top are the ones from the image, while the ones on the bottom i see used a lot more commonly—which isn't a bad thing! i just think it looks nice to use a wide range of hues because of the way they complement each other :)

other than these strategies, my process varies greatly depending on what i'm working on, so it's difficult to get any more specific than this (unless you'd like to ask about the process of a specific drawing!) there isn't really any step-by-step method i use for every drawing i make, usually i am doing something different each time based on the goals i have for the project

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 22

“I completely understand it now,” Michael suddenly blurted out from his spot, head resting comfortably on Adam’s lap.

“Hmm?” hummed Adam, his eyes remaining glued to the wooden tools he was busy carving. 

“It’s so comfortable.” Michael shifted a little to nuzzle himself even closer to Adam, the warmth his human emitted brought about a cosy and homely feeling that he could never seem to have enough of. “I can see why Amora liked to settle herself here.”

And as if on cue, a large paw began clawing at him, not harsh enough to supposedly injure but stern and annoyed enough to send a message – Amora wanted her spot back. She had even begun nipping at Michael’s robes, trying to drag him out of the spot that used to be exclusively hers. Though of course, being an angel, Amora’s effort seemed more like a newborn kitten’s playful pawing to Michael. 

“It’s my turn, Amora,” Michael playfully reminded, a hand reaching out to pet the agitated cat’s head in an attempt to somewhat pacify her. “You’re always with Adam, you should learn to share.”

In response, Amora bit Michael’s hand before deciding to settle on him instead. With a heavy plop, her large furred body established itself on top of him, almost covering the entirety of his being. Michael was almost tempted to pet the jaguar again, thinking that perhaps she wasn’t that upset with him until he saw her large yellow gaze piercing through him, her long spotted tail swishing and swaying impatiently behind her as she let out a low growl. It was a dare. A dare to further push her buttons and the promises she had as consequence. Michael didn’t need to be able to speak to animals then, Amora was clear enough in the message she sent his way. 

“To be fair,” Adam decided to cut in, if anything to somewhat make Amora ease up a bit. “This is her spot, and you’ve been hogging it lately.”

Amora let out a melodramatic grunt at Adam’s words, her eyes seemingly drooping a little. In response, Adam briefly paused what he was working on, carefully placing his tools and his carving on the side to give Amora a soothing pet on her head, scratching behind her ears where he knew she liked best. That seemed to effectively cool down the cat’s hot temperament evident by the soft, satisfied chuffs she emitted as she rested her head on Michael’s chest with her eyes closed.

Michael could do nothing but look on as Adam easily placated the agitated cat. How could he easily manage the jaguar’s continuously swinging back and forth temperament, Michael wasn’t sure but he was amazed nonetheless. 

Looking down at the angel’s curious astonishment, Adam couldn’t help the grin that formed in his lips. He always found it rather funny (and endearing) how Michael seemed to be so easily impressed by things he thought were rather mundane and simple. Every time it occurred two things always bubbled up from within him: One, was to proudly show and teach the angel more things that he knew of, just so he could see more of that sparkle remain in his deep blue eyes; Two, was a playfully mischievous feeling that couldn’t help but want to ruffle some of his angel’s feathers. Right now, Adam was feeling the second one.

“Would you like to be petted too?” asked Adam with a small smile and a teasing glint in his golden eyes. His hands stopped scratching and petting Amora as he moved it over to intertwine his fingers between the wavy strands of Michael’s pale golden hair, fingers gently scratching along his scalp. And within just a few seconds, Michael melted like a puddle on Adam’s lap, happily enjoying the soothing sensations on his scalp. 

“Aww, look at you,” cooed Adam. “Such a good puppy, do you want more?” he teased, but also meant it honestly. What was he going to give? He wasn’t sure himself, but if Michael asked he might just be inclined to spoil his angel.

A small dusting of gold painted Michael cheeks at Adam’s alluring suggestion. Did he want more? Yes, yes he did, though he wasn’t exactly sure which one he wanted first. There were simply so many things he wanted from the first man. He wanted to see his unrestrained smiles and tears, to forever remain so close to his warmth, to feel the softness of his lips against his and how it would taste, he wanted Adam wholly. Oh it was quite the demanding love, but he couldn’t help it, especially when his love was right in front of him, gaze a hot molten gold that seemed to burn passionately. 

“Adam…” Michael whined as he held onto Adam’s hand, nuzzling it against his warm face; the teasing was getting to him a little. 

But of course, they weren’t alone, and whatever moment the two shared between them in longing gazes was ruined by a large paw landing directly on Michael’s face followed by an exaggeratedly loud yawn and a show of sharp teeth. Michael visibly deflated, slumping almost lifelessly in disappointment on Adam’s lap, while Adam himself couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. Amora always seemed to have the greatest timing, which was good for him; he wasn’t sure what came over him, but he knew he was wading through murky waters there. Not yet. He wasn’t about to explore there yet. But…maybe one day. 

“Oh, sorry girl,” Adam apologised as he went back to petting the jaguar. 

If Michael didn’t know any better, he swore that the cat had a smug look on her face. He wasn’t even sure what he did to warrant such pettiness from her. All he did was try to spend as much time as he was possibly allowed to be with Adam, sharing meals with him, playing games with him, creating music together, testing out new inventions with him. Okay, maybe he did deserve her petty wrath a little bit for hogging Adam’s time whenever he visited, especially now that he had apparently stolen her favourite spot on Adam’s lap. 

Michael gently pushed the paw that was still resting on his face, “And I’m sorry for stealing Adam from you. I’ll make it up to you one day, truce?”

He got a soft lick on his face in response. Truce it was. 

“By the way,” Adam suddenly spoke aloud, hand still petting Amora. “How come you were extra early today?”

“Ah, well, I wanted a time away from Heaven,” answered Michael, looking a little awkwardly away. 

Adam knew that look. It meant there was something more behind his words, not precisely a lie, Michael could never, but more like an awkward omission – something he’d find rather embarrassing to divulge. 

“Because..?” Adam trailed on, encouraging his angel to continue his story. Really, as much as didn’t want to return to Heaven, he also couldn’t help but be curious of its current whereabouts and developments.

“Uhm, it’s in a bit of state right now,” Michael admitted. “A chaotic state that is.”

Well, now that was surprising. It wasn’t as if Heaven never panicked, in fact they gushed over the smallest facts and details during his time there, it was just that, for them to be so clustered and unorganised already during the beginning of time when there wasn’t much to worry about; Adam supposed some things just stubbornly remained the same. Still, he was curious, even more curious now in fact, though he had an inkling of an idea as to what caused this chaos. 

His hands stopped petting Amora once he heard her soft snores and her even breathing, her large body still resting atop Michael. Picking his tools up once more, he continued on the piece he was carving. 

“Go on,” he said as he focused half his attention back on his work. 

A sheepish look painted over Michael’s face like a little kid admitting they had broken something, “Well, you know the tea you gave me more of?”

Oh. Now Adam was sure what had happened, but he feigned ignorance of the fact anyway. “Yup, I gave you a bunch of different ones to share with others. I hope they liked them?”

“Yes, well, they might have liked it a bit much…” Michael revealed. “And, uh, it might have affected others a little differently.”

“How so?”

Michael squinted his eyes into nothing in particular as recalled Gabriel speeding past his window, breaking the glass, and then through his wall. Apparently he was feeling ‘extra speedy’. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the mess that was Heaven when he decided to investigate out of his broken window. Sure, the hot drink did give him some sort of buzz, an energised feeling, but that day he learned that it affected others differently from him. 

“Let’s just say it made others a little too speedy and bold,” he answered. He would help out right now, and he did, at least for the first few hours, but then quickly realised there was only so much he could do against so much chaos, and so, he sought refuge in the garden with Adam. They had to tire out eventually, right? Oh, he hoped to his dear Father that they would, otherwise he would never hear the end of it from Sera. 

“Sounds like fun,” Adam chuckled. Really, while it was probably a nightmare for someone like Michael, it did sound like fun to him, he wished he could’ve seen the chaos. 

“...Sure…” Michael absently agreed, his thoughts busy worrying about how decidedly unfun it would be for him when he would eventually have to return and see the aftermath.

—-

The sun had passed its highest point of the day and had begun its slow descent towards the horizon. And by this time, Michael had graciously given Amora, who had a satisfied look on her sleeping face, a turn on Adam’s lap, even though he wanted to remain longer – but peaceful negotiations were needed for peaceful coexistence. 

The two had just finished another round of a game, with Michael winning once again. In fact, he had been winning the last couple of rounds, and only now did he notice the slightly distracted look on Adam’s eyes. Was that why the last few games had been oddly easy for him?

“What’s distracting you?” he asked Adam, who suddenly blinked out of his own stupor. 

“Oh, hmm,” Adam pondered aloud. He was a little distracted, it wasn’t anything particularly important, but then he supposed that also meant there was no harm in asking Michael. Moving the board game aside, Adam inched closer to Michael, reaching over to tug lightly at his robes. “It might be a bit of an odd request, but can I also have some clothes?”

It wasn’t as if Adam had suddenly gotten shy, no, he quickly got over that when first woke back up in Eden, he wasn’t ashamed of his body no matter how it looked. But out of nowhere, he simply missed wearing clothes. Honestly, he found clothes to be great, it was one of the ways he could express himself and his clothes felt nicely comfortable against his skin, oftentimes he found himself snuggling into its loose fabrics when he couldn’t completely hide away from the world outside. He missed it, his little comforts. He would make one for himself, but turning raw fibres into threads and then weaving threads into clothing…well that simply took too much skill and time. And makeshift clothes made out of leaves were out of the question, those things were far from comfortable and reminded him too much of his shared hardship with Eve in his first life on Earth.

Though Michael looked a little confused at the request, he happily obliged anyway. “Alright, how would you like it?” asked Michael. 

Adam was half tempted to request a robe that was exactly like his old one in Heaven, the gold and white one (he didn’t even want to remember his extermination outfit, what a nightmare), but then thought against it. He loved it, don’t get him wrong, it brought him comfort during times when he needed it most, but he didn’t need it now, not in Eden anyway. Bringing something like that in the garden might just be a bit too heavenly for his taste. He eyed Michael’s own robes, how it felt soft with a touch of silkiness to it on his fingertips. 

“Can I have one similar to yours?” he asked, lifting the sleeve of Michael’s robe. “We can be matching then.”

Michael had never made something so quick in his entire existence as threads of white and gold flowed in the air swiftly weaving into each other to form a loose robe. The thought of Adam wearing clothes that looked just like his sent such strange happy signals to his brain. Overwhelming him with such triumphant joy. It was almost as if he was staking claim to the first man as his for everyone to see. A happy yellow hue lightly blossomed on his cheeks at the thought. And while he would be more than happy to have Adam essentially wear exactly the same robe as he did, thought a bit more gold and a little less blue suited his human more – it would complement the jewel that were his eyes quite nicely. 

Within no time at all, Adam’s new robe was made, floating down onto his hands. It looked and felt just like Michael’s with slight variances in colour, but the feeling of it remained the same; soft, warm and homely, it reminded him of safety and belonging. Adam held the robe in front of him, taking in its full appearance. It was certainly different from his old one, which was what he had wanted, after all, he was no longer the father of humanity; a change he was fully happy and content with.

“Do you like it?” asked Michael a little nervously. 

A soft, genuine smile graced Adam’s lips, “I love it.”

Part 21

Part 23

[narfin-frood]

Silly question but how do you art?

Or more like, how is your process to draw? Your lines and posing are so loose and show the feeling of a character so well, like, how do you make your art so real with only a few lines is what most amaze me. Anyway I hope I'm not bothering you and that makes sense, thanks for reading!<3

you're not a bother, don't worry! i'm not sure if there's an appropriately concise answer to a question like this, but i'll try to explain my process for poses a bit, and if there's anything else specific you'd like to know about my process, feel free to ask, and i'll try to answer!

for posing, i find it's very helpful to start by thinking about what situation the character is in. you don't need a location or a background or anything (unless you're being #serious about it). for this, i chose "picking up something way too heavy" (cont. under cut, wall of text ahead)

keeping it very simple is key!!! do not worry about details!!! i am very bad at this. i love to add a little detail or two, like his eyes or his little expression, but i have to catch myself before i get too into it, otherwise i'll forget the point of what i was doing and/or get bored. use just enough strokes to get the point across, and stop there (for now).

i draw fast and loose, with long strokes, which also happens to help with the problem that happens if you start with any specific part of the body. it's important to start with... everything at once, or else you won't be able to see what needs to be changed or fixed until it's too late and you've already decided on where you want the head and the left arm to be!

to display effort & strain without just contorting the character's face, you gotta think about just how heavy the object is, how one would go about grabbing it comfortably, and whether your character is smart enough to lift with their legs.

wander is great (read: BEST CHARACTER DESIGN EVAR. i love him kisskisskiss) because he's not grounded in any sort of reality until necessary, and his limbs have no bones, but he still has specific proportions and volumes to refer back to if you get carried away with the wackiness. posing a character made up of several noodles of varying widths is very simple, because you can do basically whatever you want to push and pull and make it as clear (and/or as funny) as possible.

start with your line of action, in this case the long line connecting his neck and his left foot. think about where the floor is, so you can make the feet of your character and whatever else is touching it coexist in the same reality. think about clarity: big, simple shapes are your friends, and if you're not getting the gist of the pose through the silhouette alone, try again! there's NO shame in hiding the first layer and doing a couple more sketches until you land on something you really like. Don't polish a turd, especially if you yourself think it's a turd. it'll make you feel like you're wasting time, and drawing is about having fun and experimenting, so if it's getting boring or frustrating, it's time to try something else.

wander and other characters with no bones and no rules are great for posing because you can do things like make their arms bend the wrong way just to play with the clarity of the pose. this:

un-breaks the arms and makes a little more sense for somebody with elbows, but some clarity in the action is lost when the arms don't curve upward and away from the very heavy object he's straining to pick up.

grounding your characters is both more complex and easier than it sounds, and it unfortunately requires you to think about perspective (i know. i know. i know it sucks and it's confusing. i hated it for a very long time but once it clicks, you'll have it in your brain forever)

fudging a perspective grid is fairly easy, just draw several parallel lines and have them get closer to each other as they recede into the distance, and then do it again in the opposite direction. you can use the transform tool in whatever program you use most to fudge this for even less effort, by just getting a png of a grid and fucking with it

now that you've got your floor, think about those feet. the grid makes it fairly easy to envision how a shoe would look sitting on that floor:

this is also where having an understanding of volumes comes in handy, because things farther in the distance will in fact look smaller, but it's up to you to figure out just how much smaller it would be in comparison to the other identical thing with the same volume that's closer to the camera. usually it's almost negligible, but it becomes easy to spot if it's a little off.

and here's the pose i settled on! i made his noodle arms more extreme for extra XD factor and i put him on his tippy toes for that extra bit of height!

a lot of the principles i'm talking about in this post i mainly pick up from consciously watching my favorite cartoons (and live action shows) and if i really, really like the way something is done, or if i see something that i've never really registered before, i'll screencap it or i'll pause or i'll just keep thinking about it until i draw again.

this is called "building a visual library" and it's the #1 easiest and most important way to practice. it requires no drawing, unless you want it to. look at lots of art by artists you love, and if you see something and you think to yourself, hey, this looks really good, by all means, absorb it.

art is great and it's really fun and there's literally nothing wrong with taking inspiration where you can find it!! seriously!!! absorb your favorite parts of every art style you find cool and fun and put it into your own! you're the only person who can draw the way you draw, and while replicating an art style is fairly easy (or it can be, depending), matching it perfectly is Literally impossible, so don't worry about being derivative. Nobody will notice, and if they do, it's okay to say you're inspired by them! encouraged, even!

my own art style, like everybody else's, is a frankenstein's monster containing all of the things i've loved before!!! and i think thats beautiful and if anybody tries to tell you you've gotta be 100% original and have "your very own style", they're a filthy liar and they're definitely (consciously or not) already taking inspiration and reference from the things they themselves find cool and awesome.

ANYWAY. wall of text over.

TLDR: draw quickly, use long strokes (try not to pet your lines), have a specific situation to put your character in, get familiar with volumes and proportions, and have fun!!!

[lyfrassireddatsct]

Lyf looked behind them, making sure that the Mechanisms them were in some semblance of order, and that everyone else's eyes were closed. Marius appeared to have his eyes actually closed this time, which was a relief, but they knew he'd probably end up opening them again soon enough.

"I'm not sure if the screaming's active or not," they said, walking carefully. With the amount of shooting Jonny had been doing, there was a lot of glass on the floor, and with how. . . disconnected from corporeality they felt, best not chance getting glass stuck anywhere it shouldn't be. "They might have recorded some. Or imitated it. I'd-- I'd ask if we could try that necklace again, but the chances something else would see us, or that something would go wrong. . ."

In other words, the screams could be a trap. A bad trap, considering the states everyone was in already.

Marius pressed his thumb once again a few times onto Lyf, a gentle reminder he was there, and Lyf nodded to themself, pressing a single finger back.

"But besides gut feelings and what little of the maze I saw before looking for you all, it's the best lead I have, and this maze is. . ." Lyf sighed. "I tried to mark what I could, the entrance and the direction I saw Danny going, but my marks are less than useful."

Mostly because they'd had limited tools to mark with, and they'd been bleeding more since then.

https://www.tumblr.com/doctorbarontsct/765335072373178368/when-marius-sees-the-flash-of-rainbow-hair-out-of?source=share

"Someone took away your Jonny's harmonics privileges. They can't figure out where I keep finding mine, so they can't take away mine," Jonny said as he played on.

"Jonny," Brian said finally. "Cut the shit before I tell Raphaella to take your brain out and put you in a jar until it grows back. Again. Marius is very obviously not well, and you're picking a fight with him. Please, love." He sighed, looking over Marius once again. "Okay. So, it's been a few weeks since you could last move your arm. This slug is likely what's preventing you from being able to move it, and we don't want to do anything until we have somewhere to safely put it."

Tim hummed. "Jar could work. I'm just saying we should think about putting in the jar."

"You just want to give it to Raphaella so she stops pouting her science projects dying," Jonny grumbled.

Tim just smiled. "Is that so wrong?"

[ @allthesemechanismsbutnocoping ]

"That's about it, I think?" Marius said. He willfully doesn't think about the amount of food he's had over the last few weeks. Or sleep. Or the toe thing, or the mines, or the fact that his other arm is still not working, or the number of things he didn't even mention on Tumblr because he thought this universe's Lyf would have a heart attack.

It's not like that lightning strike did any permanent damage anyway.

"But yeah, somewhere to put it safely, and we're sure taking it out won't make things worse," he added, because that seemed like a very important point he'd made, and he didn't want anyone forgetting that one.

[cometchasinglove]

Hi, guys! Here’s my half of the art trade with @lockheed-martin-unofficial. It’s a drabble featuring TFP Ratchet and Concorde (OC)! It was so much fun to write!

Flight Repairs

Warnings: None

Word Count: 899

Within the main room of the Autobot base, Concorde shifted his weight, feeling hugely out of place due to his size. True, it wasn’t his fault that he was twice the height of Optimus Prime, but he still didn’t feel quite comfortable inside the missile silo, especially around the other Autobots who often stumbled around him. 

Who could blame him? Concorde meant well. He considered himself to be graceful with his movements, but accidents could still happen. He wanted to keep that in mind, at least.

The mech stood tall near the Autobot logo on the floor, observing Team Prime as they assembled as one, intending to engage in a widespread patrol for any Decepticon activity. 

Once he spotted the leader walk by, he reached out a servo.

“Optimus Prime, may I join you?”

The Prime halted and turned, gazing upwards at Concorde with the same neutral expression as before. Although his blue optics were firm and steady, there was also a faint softness and understanding to them. 

“Concorde,” he glanced over to the side, “I suggest that you instead stay with Ratchet for the time being and provide him with additional aid.” 

Concorde followed his optics to the medic near the monitors and ground bridge controls. Ratchet met his gaze, but the two didn’t exchange a word. Feeling suddenly uneasy in his tail, he focused his attention back on Optimus Prime.

“Understood.”

The Autobot leader nodded and made his leave. Concorde stepped out of the way of the rest of the team, allowing them to depart through a ground bridge. Once the portal fizzled and faded, he found the courage inside him to lock optics with Ratchet once again.

He admired Ratchet, truly. As a skilled medic, he was a valuable and hardworking member of the team. But occasionally, Concorde felt the most out of place with him. He didn’t want to be a bother, after all.

“I…will be delighted to help you, Ratchet.” He gestured towards his equipment before slowly shying away. “But if desired, I can stay out of your way.”

Ratchet nodded, understanding. 

“Yes, thank you, Concorde, but I have no need for any help at the moment.”

Concorde blinked, starting to drive himself in the opposite direction. However, before he could even step forward, Ratchet reached out a servo, almost touching him.

“Wait just a nanosec.” 

Concorde tilted his helm at him, his canards flicking. 

“You…mentioned chronic pain earlier?” 

…

Inside the repair section of the Autobot base, Concorde relaxed on the tilted medical table. Because of his own size, it was a rather tight squeeze, but he made it functional for himself. 

As Ratchet performed maintenance work on his shiny frame, the larger mech couldn’t help but think of someone he knew well, someone who he held close to his spark.

He vented, sighing and rumbling, causing Ratchet to hum.

“Something the matter?”

Concorde frowned, his canards drooping.

“I…I miss my pilot.”

Ratchet nodded, choosing to reassure him rather than dismiss him.

“You will see her again, no need to worry.”

Concorde gazed at him for a nanosec, cocking his helm to the side as the medic tinkered with his frame using various tools. As he worked, Ratchet began to mumble to himself, gradually increasing the volume of his voice.

“Had any recent dreams that could give us clues to your past?”

Concorde shook his helm, pouting. 

“No. No, I have not.”

Not even the Autobots could help him recover the bits and pieces of his memory. Still, Concorde appreciated their kindness and hospitality, especially coming from Ratchet. Smiling, he turned to him.

“Thank you for clearing up the scratches in my paint.” 

Due to damages and imperfections in his paint from battles and such, he received scratches, making it uncomfortable to fly. It was a relief for Ratchet to aid him as best as he could. And he did try his very best. Ratchet was a good doctor, and Concorde’s appreciation for him knew no bounds.

Ratchet’s blue optics flickered as he focused his attention on Concorde’s faceplate. His expression fell, and he cleared his vocalizer. 

“I, er…”

He paused, tripping over his words as he stood straight.

“I must apologize to you, Concorde.”

The plane frowned.

“Why?”

He didn’t recall the medic doing anything wrong. As Ratchet regained himself, he caught the shimmer in his optics that seemed to be something akin to guilt.

“Once, I thought of you as a smug glitch who prioritized his looks above all else.” He lowered his helm, setting his tools to the side. “But I was wrong. This apology…I owe it to you.”

At first, Concorde didn’t know what to say, totally surprised. He didn’t think ill of him. He understood Ratchet’s struggles. And yet, he was apologizing to him? Because he previously thought of him as someone he wasn’t? 

There was a sudden fire of warmth in his spark, signifying that he was touched to the core. Maybe Ratchet did enjoy his presence. Perhaps he really could fit in with the Autobot team. It would just take more time. Yes, that was it.

Slowly, he stood.

“Thank you, Ratchet.” He smiled. “I accept your apology, even though it was never required.”

He stepped forward, beginning to exit. However, before he did so, Ratchet called his name once again. 

Concorde turned, his canards flicking.

“I could use your help sorting through my tools.”

Concorde smiled.

Divider Credit: @/enchanthings

[mae-lou-ron]

Keeping You Around

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Summary: Commander Wolffe's assignment to embark on a reconnaissance mission takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself paired up with you—a development he was far from prepared to deal with.

Word Count: ~3,700 (it was supposed to be like 500 but again, brevity is not my strength, okay?)

CW: Fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury mentioned, mando'a nickname, mutual pining, idiots in love arguing, stubborn Wolffe is stubborn. (Can read as GN!reader. Wearing a flight suit and having hair long enough to be in their face are the only descriptions)

A/N: Real talk I wrote this in about 3 hours last night. Barely proofread bc I’m a dangerous woman trying to stop falling down editing rabbit holes at 3am. Lots of familiar tropes and scenarios ahead, but my goal was to practice writing conflict dialogue and thought Wolffe would be fun to try. Inspired to write this while watching Nick and Jess argue in New Girl S1E22 😜

Feedback is welcome, but please be constructive/kind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cyar'ika!" Wolffe's voice boomed through the dilapidated hangar, the sudden sound of it nearly making you drop your spanner. "Cyar- Maker… there you are. What is wrong with you?!" Wolffe demanded as he strode over to you from a room off to the side, angrily trying to get his pauldron to snap back into place.

"Ah, Commander, I see you’ve regained consciousness," you said drily, not looking up from the panel you were rewiring. Your hands were growing tired, just like the rest of you from the tedious task of fixing the power supply in hopes of getting a signal out to the 104th.

"Care to explain why I woke up in a strange room with half my kit off?" Wolffe demanded, his voice a dripping with irritation.

"Because you were much easier to drag without it… and I needed to make sure you weren't bleeding internally while you were unconscious," you said matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry—if I had time to wait for you to come around, I would have asked," you said, your voice losing its edge incrementally as you met his eyes for the first time. “Not like you would have admitted you were injured anyway,” you muttered under your breath.

He regarded you carefully, his expression severe. You could see his mind racing through a hundred scenarios while he’d been unconscious, though thankfully none had come to pass. His ARC trooper instincts kicked in as his eyes scanned the space for potential threats.

"Relax," you sighed. "I cleared the place, there's no one here. By the state of things I don’t think anyone has been here for a long time,” you gestured around to the various consoles and furniture covered in a thick layer of dust and debris. “Except for the scurriers, at least,”

"When… where's the shuttle?" he turned his head towards the closed hangar doors. No shuttle in sight.

"About 5 klicks east where we crashed it…" The panel before you flickered a few times, the power pulsing it to life before it cut out again. "Dank farrik!" you swore and kicked the side of it as the last of your patience with the blasted thing finally left your body. "It's no use, I can't keep the power on long enough to start anything up," you grumbled as you pulled yourself to your feet, wiping your hands on your flight suit in frustration.

When you looked up at Wolffe, he was staring at you with the same unreadable expression. His brow furrowed slightly as he took in your disheveled appearance and the scattered tools around you. His hands perched on his belt, mismatched eyes glittering.

"What?" you shrugged, slightly unnerved by his stern gaze.

"Where we crashed it, Lieutenant?" Wolffe's deep voice thick with implication. "The last thing I remember is you ignoring my direct order to put the ship down in that clearing."

"If I had, the clankers would have advanced on our position, cutting off what looked like the only civilian escape route,” you countered. "Landing further away drew them to us instead…it wasn’t part of the plan to get shot down…" you added as you remembered the chaos of the crash. The impact had been jarring, a barrage of tree branches cracking against the hull like breaking limbs. A second impact threw an already off balance Wolffe into one of the panels, knocking him out.

You managed to keep the shuttle in the air long enough to find a patch where the trees thinned out. In all honesty, it wasn't even your worst landing to date. As soon as it stopped moving, you immediately went to Wolffe. The shuttle was trashed, but you thanked the Maker one of the speeders stowed within it had survived. With great difficulty, you dragged Wolffe's unconscious form from the wreck, your muscles screaming in protest as you moved him to a safer distance away. There you were able to quickly assess his injuries, relief washing over you when you found a strong pulse and no signs of severe trauma. A few bruised or broken ribs, maybe, and thankfully he was wearing his helmet in the crash, but you still needed to check him for a concussion.

With Wolffe secured, you turned your attention to finding shelter, knowing that staying put wasn't an option. Your initial scans of the area indicated a hidden structure not too far from your position. So, with even greater difficulty, you heaved him onto the back of the speeder with whatever supplies you could quickly grab, and took off to higher ground.

“We’re both alive, relatively unscathed, gave the civilians a chance to escape, I handled it, Wolffe,” you reasoned, annoyed but not surprised at his reaction. Wolffe was a textbook control freak, but over the last year it had become almost endearing to you. Relishing in the way his eyes widened when he was flustered, or how his gravely tone would elevate ever so slightly when you pissed him off.

Like right now.

"Maybe if you listened to orders for once, you wouldn't have had to," Wolffe retorted, through gritted teeth.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, because you're such a shining example of following protocol?" Referring to all the times Wolffe and General Plo bent protocol to keep their men alive, to secure the mission’s success.

"That's different and you know it," he growled, taking a step closer.

"How? How is it different, Wolffe?" you challenged.

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Because I'm trying to keep you safe, dammit."

"And who's been keeping you safe?" you raised your voice slightly, your frustration bubbling. He bristled, but you could tell your words surprised him when he deflected back to you.

“You can’t just keep running into the fray like that, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Ok, that’s actually kinda hilarious coming from you,” you chuckled sardonically.

“You’re not a soldier!…and lately you seem set on going against everything I say trying to keep you alive…”

“Wow, Wolffe. Do you even hear yourself?!” the words came out of your mouth, stopping him in his tracks, scowling at his puzzled expression.

“What?" he snapped in a deep voice. His eyes blazed with both anger and confusion, clearly caught off guard by your outburst. The tension in the air was palpable as you both stood there, locked in a silent standoff.

“I can take care of myself, and believe it or not, I always have, with or without you around,” you growled. “And I don’t appreciate you making me out to be this fragile little thing who needs to be taken care of…I volunteered for this mission, and I dragged your heavy ass here away from the droids while you were taking a nap,”

“I wasn’t aware I was responsible for what happened while I was unconscious, cyar’ika,” his tone filled with warning.

"And I certainly wasn't aware that saving your life would piss you off so badly," you spat, your chest heaving with exasperation.

The tension between you simmered, neither willing to yield. Wolffe had been acting strangely ever since he learned you volunteered for this mission. His behavior grew even more peculiar when you were paired to conduct recon scans for command. It made sense—you were a decorated pilot, and he was a decorated commander—yet his unease was palpable.

While Wolffe is a lot of things, he is not someone who will willingly talk about his feelings. So you stood there, glaring at each other, both too stubborn to acquiesce. You were slowly moving towards one another, your determination coming off you in waves.

“When are you going to stop being so stubborn,” he said, chest puffing out slightly.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to do the same,” you hissed.

“Don’t count on it, cyar’ika.” he took another step in your direction. The clones were already formidable in their presence, but Wollfe’s brightly painted armor made his presence even more powerful. It took you gritting your teeth and clenching your fists at your side to quell the impulses that were firing in your brain. You closed the distance, showing you weren’t going to back down. Not on this.

“Well, Commander, next time I’ll be sure to avoid any missions you’re assigned to, then you won’t have to carry my ‘dead weight’ around…” you half regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue, but you weren’t about to show him that. But you were going there anyway— the words you overheard him say the other night had been gnawing at you since. “Ironic, don’t you think?”

His eyes flashed with anger, but also a realization at your words. For a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a sheepish anger that spoke volumes.

“Yeah Wolffe, I overheard you talking to Rex before we left,” you said as you bit back the fire in your lungs.

Wolffe's conversation with Rex had echoed in your mind, each word a dagger twisting deeper into your heart, fueling your pain. You couldn't shake the feeling, the knowledge that someone you cared for so deeply likely saw you as nothing more than a burden.

His face fell as your words deflated him. “You…” he sighed. “You weren’t supposed to hear that…”

“Clearly. But now that I know how you really feel about me we can stop pretending, so thanks for that I guess,” you looked at the floor, unable to keep the hurt from your voice now.

Wolffe's expression shifted, a sadness crossing his features. He reached out but stopped mid-air, unsure. "That's not... I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. "You have to understand, cyar’ika, the situation is-"

“Will you stop calling me that!?” You nearly screamed, your voice echoing off the bare walls in the hangar. You could have sworn he winced, the only sound being the wind blowing through the cracks in the door. Wolffe opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"I would never speak about you like that, Wolffe, especially not to Rex," your voice was uncharacteristically small as you crossed your arms protectively.

You had considered dropping the mission, faking an injury—anything to avoid this. But Wolffe was still one of your closest friends in the GAR; he'd have seen right through you. So instead, it had lit a fire in you to prove him wrong. You knew it was childish to crave his approval, to want him to be proud of you. But what else could you do when you were desperately in love with the man?

Wolffe's eyes searched your face as he stepped closer, shoulders slumped incrementally, but his voice was low and earnest. "Those words were never meant to hurt you," he softly called you cyar'ika again. You ignored it, waiting for him to continue. "What you heard... it wasn't what you think." He reached out once more, but you stood firm against the pull of his warmth. "Please, let me explain?"

His tone was softer than you'd ever heard from him. A tingle ran down your spine as you glanced at his hand, then back into his tawny eye. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you raised your eyebrows, daring him to continue.

"I'm all ears, Commander."

Wolffe grabbed a nearby stool and pointed at it, which you took only after he took a seat on the stool opposite you. He suppressed another wince with a hand over his ribs, still clearly aching. You’d apply more bacta later, you thought to yourself as your knees nearly bumped his, but you ignored that too as he let out a ragged sigh. Running a hand through his cropped hair, he sent a few tendrils astray and you had to avert your gaze to avoid being distracted by the sight.

"You’re right, I didn't want you to come here with me," he said quietly. When he felt you bristle and open your mouth to protest, he touched his fingertips to your knee, seeking permission before he continued. “But then you volunteered- and what was I supposed to tell you- tell them?”

“You didn’t think I could handle it,” you said softly shaking your head and shifting in your seat with your eyes still on the floor.

"It's not that," Wolffe said, his voice low. He leaned forward, his knuckle gently nudging your chin. When you looked up he was gazing at you with an intensity that made your heart thrum. You could feel the weight of what he was trying to say in his long pause. “I didn’t think that I could handle it,” he confessed, eyes guarded as he gauged your response.

Wolffe's confession caught you off guard, revealing a rare vulnerability beneath his gruff exterior. The bands around your heart loosened as understanding dawned, pieces falling into place. His overprotective nature, steely demeanor, and reluctance to have you on this mission suddenly made sense. Gently, you placed your fingertips over his where they rest on your knee, a silent acknowledgment of this newfound insight. But still, what he said to Rex still had its bitter sting.

“Anything,” you murmured. “Anything would have been better than you letting Rex think I was a liability, Wolffe,”

“I know…I’m…sorry, I can’t even imagine how angry I’d have been if I were you." He paused, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m still angry,” you said quietly, but a glimmer of your softening resolve shine through, and he saw it, his posture relaxing incrementally.

“And I deserve it,” he turned his hand over beneath yours, wrapping his gloved fingers around your palm. The gesture surprising both of you. “I’ll talk to Rex as soon as we get out of here- but I don’t even think I’ll need to once he reads our mission report,” he mused.

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your conversation hanging between you. The anger that had fueled your argument earlier had dissipated, replaced by a different kind of tension. Wolffe's thumb traced gentle circles on the back of your hand.

“I won’t make this mistake again, I promise you,” he said before he brought your hand to his lips, gently pressing them to your knuckles. You felt his breath fan over your skin, making your own breath stop in your throat at this unfamiliar, but not unwelcome side of Wolffe.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you moved your hand from his lips to his cheek. "We've always been quite the team," your eyes locked with his mismatched gaze. “We can protect one another. Together. I don’t need a savior, I just need to know you’ve got my back, as I have yours. I always will…”

Wolffe's eyes softened, a mix of gratitude and admiration shining through. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours in a gentle Keldabe kiss. "Always, cyar’ika," he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. "Together.”

You chuckled softly at his pet name for you. "Wolffe, why do you keep calling me that?" The question had been on your mind for a while, but you'd never asked before. Truthfully, you were afraid to know the answer. You'd always assumed it was some kind of teasing nickname, especially given how his brothers snickered whenever it slipped from his lips around them.

Wolffe shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. A strange and unfamiliar site, but you couldn’t help but smile internally at your ability to unearth this side of him. After a moment, Wolffe seemed to find some resolve. His gloved hand reached up and brushed a stray hair from your eyes. When you looked at his face again you swore you saw pink in the man’s cheeks.

Wolffe can blush? You thought to yourself, eyes growing wide at this information. “It’s mando’a…there are words in basic that would cover it, but it’s…it’s more like a feeling. A sentiment…” he trailed off. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "The closest thing I can think of is…darling, beloved," Wolffe swallowed, his voice low and tender.

The realization dawned on you like a class two Venator crashing down, and between all the tension from the mission and trying to survive on this rock, you could help but burst into a fit of soft laughter.

“What?” Wolffe looked confused.

“So it doesn’t mean ‘idiot’?” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop your giggles.

Wolffe chuckled, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "No, cyar'ika. It definitely doesn't mean 'idiot'." He paused, his eyes crinkling as they met yours.

“I sure feel like one right now,” you murmured, your eyes distant thinking back to some of the times it slipped out in conversation.

“I’m the dik’ut in this case, cyar’ika,” he gazed at you softly, hand brushing another stray hair from your face.

“Well…” you said, leaning in closer. Your skin flushed with the renewed electricity between you. “I suppose it’s alright, now that I know why your brothers have been laughing when you say it…”

Wolffe slapped his forehead. "Kriff," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'll need to have a word with them when we get back." His eyes softened as they met yours again, a hint of amusement dancing in them. "But right now, I'd rather focus on you, cyar'ika." His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin as he leaned in closer. "Have you any idea how long I've wanted to kiss that scowl off your face?" he said softly, his nose brushing against yours. He paused there, giving you time to pull away.

You scowled at him for good measure, “So, what are you going to do about it, Commander?” You whispered, eyes locked on his.

Wolffe's eyes narrowed, something swirling in their depths. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a tentative kiss. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he poured all his unspoken emotions into the gesture. When you finally parted, breathless and redfaced, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Believe me now, cyar’ika?”

"Yes..." you murmured dreamily, your eyes still closed. "But I think I could use a little more convincing," you added, savoring his taste as your tongue grazed your bottom lip. He grinned and leaned in again, this time with more fervor, eager to kiss you properly—to kiss you the way he'd always longed to but never thought he could.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips.

You swallowed thickly, your eyebrows knitting together slightly. “What for?”

He put both of his hands on your cheeks, thumbs caressing your skin lightly. You found your eyes fluttering closed at his touch.

“For saving my life,” he whispered.

Your eyes snapped open. The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but smile, your hand coming up to cover his on your cheek.

“Don’t mention it,” you grinned. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance to repay the favor before we get out of here,” you chuckled.

“At least once, I reckon,” he huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “and about ‘cyar’ika’— I won’t call you that anymore, not if you don’t want me to. It just sort of…slips out…”

You interrupted him by ghosting your lips over his. “Don’t you ever stop calling me that…”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in to kiss you again. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. As you pulled apart, breathless and giddy, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this insane mission had been worth all the trouble after all.

“Now,” he said, reluctantly pulling away. “As much as I’d like to see where this goes, cyar’ika, we should probably get back to finding a way to contact General Plo,” he said with the faintest edge of regret in his voice.

“I would have probably gotten it working if you hadn’t interrupted me,” you teased.

Wolffe chuckled, shaking his head. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we'll never know now." He stood up, offering you his hand. "Come on, let's see if I can get that comm working while you get some rest. I can tell you haven’t slept since the crash," His eyes sparkled with a new affection and familiar determination, reminding you why you'd fallen for this gruff commander in the first place.

“I still need to check you for a concussion…” you pointed your finger into his chest plate as he guided you towards the room he’d just left.

“Oh I think it’s safe to say I am— so you’re just going to have to figure out a way to keep me awake tonight I guess, Lieutenant,” he said dangerously, but his face gave nothing away.

You couldn't help but laugh. "Is that an order, Commander?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow at him. Wolffe's lips curled up in a rare, mischievous smirk as he pulled you closer, his voice low and husky as he murmured close to your ear. "Consider it a personal request, cyar'ika."

[alena-draws]

Point of view: You've royally pissed off the most powerful being on the planet.

(Knives is currently not on the planet but above so it counts)

(please click on the full image! It's DIN A3 and the effect is better in full view, especially Vash's glowing eyes! Little close ups under the cut)

[wind-up-thancred]

i actually decided katsu doesn't have any real sineater or final days-related bad ends, but the one bad end AU he does have happens in mid- to late stormblood, where he is tempered by lakshmi. STB spoilers under the cut

STB is kind of a dogshit time for katsu's mental health because he kinda gets hit with a triple whammy: -actively working to support a rebellion is exhausting and makes you witness some awful, truly heinous shit from the oppressors

-going back to his hometown kugane again when he didn't feel like he was ready stressed him out big time, and

-his fights with zenos are the first time in his stint as the WOL that he begins to be actually aware of, and fear, his own mortality

and of course he misses his bf. seeing a glimpse of thancred when he returns to the fringes is nice and all but that glimpse is fleeting and it just reminds him that he does not get the comfort he wants; his job is more important. there is no time for comfort for a tool, its job is to be used.

and if he was, like, 5% more mentally unstable when lakshmi attempts to temper him and the twins, her influence would've wormed its way past the blessing of light and began to infect his head, using his deep inner desire for comfort and fear of mortality as a conduit. she can utilize that, she is the lady of bliss.

it happens slowly, over the next few days, and katsu realizes he can still hear lakshmi calling in his head, slowly growing louder. he knows right away that he fucked up big time, and because of his awful avoidant streak, his first instinct is to hide himself away and fuck off into the mountains of gyr abania. he failed the scions; he could not be their rock. he cannot face them like this.

of course, they'd organize a search party for him after he'd disappeared for a few days, and they'd find him eventually. and that would probably exacerbate the situation more, because he'd be directly confronted by his failure. he never wanted them to see him in this abysmal state.

it would probably wear at katsu's psyche enough to prompt a full tempering transformation to katsu's body, and of course there would be a silly little boss fight, where lakshmi bids katsu to protect himself from "the people who put you into this whole mess, who set you upon this painful path." even though katsu does not truly see them that way, he must oblige.

he even manages a very weak form of tempering on his own, which isn't enough to actually fully convert any of the scions beating the shit out of him (out of necessity of course), but still messes with their heads. and it's not antagonistic— he wants to extend lakshmi's comfort and bliss to them as well, so they don't have to hurt either.

i may be biased but i think it gets to thancred worst of all. katsu probably calls directly to him. he knows it hurts. he knows thancred is still wracked with grief. he knows sometimes he wishes to rid himself of everything at once, that he feels like he can't handle all of it even though he tries, by the gods does he try. and katsu wants to free him from that as well. but thancred knows better than that, and i think he uses minfilia as his motivation to avoid giving in.

he's like, yes gods fuck it hurts that i failed her, and everyone else, so bad, but i'd be failing her even more if i just ran away. i can't. you can't, either. if we had any idea it had gotten this bad for you we would've tried to help, we can give you support, anything, but you can't just run away. anything but giving up. that is not an option.

i think the tempering actually helps the scions recognize katsu's plight that he's been hiding from them, and they manage to pull him out of the transformation with some very strong words and, uh, knocking him senseless afterwards. he's deeply, deeply ashamed once he wakes but turns his shame into motivation to do better instead of using it as an excuse to run away this time.

i also like to think that in this AU, maybe later in MSQ once he's gotten stronger, he's able to channel lakshmi by drawing upon that desire for comfort and use her powers in some niche situations. but none of that is canon in my default verse, just a little side thing i came up with for fun :]

Bad endings? Bad endings anyone?

What if they got consumed by the light? What if they became a primal? Any and all bad endings!

I think mine most likely would've become a lightwarden because she didn't get to Emet-Selch fast enough. "Obsession" would be its name, due to the fact it would be obsessed with the idea of saving others and changing the world, probably leading to either the Scions killing her or to her consuming the First in Light.

.