#cw: pda

[bunclebee]

This is ur only warning that there is more CheeBee art up and coming LOL… I will tag it all CheeBee if you want to mute it!

[linkedin-offficial]

vivibella . save me . save me vivibella

[bechnokid]

First Kiss

[1ightsen]

AuthorityShipping, its been a while... A fun practice of clip sludio, and use of some of the pose pack references I got from @theposearchives (relationship pose pack 2)

[shaylogic]

This is really the lips episode, huh?

Bonus from next ep:

[thisvegetabledoesntfallinlove]

romance repulsed aro king

[the-mechanica]

my pda every morning: fuck eating breakfast, fuck this stupid body's need for food, fuck my stupid brain for craving sugar, fuck addictive food textures, fuck the stupid food companies putting sugar in everything so much I need to monitor it now, fuck my genetics, fuck my parents for putting me on this earth with the need to eat, fuck this oatmeal I'm sick of this, fuck sodium, fuck saturated fat, fuck my old eating disorder, fuck this I didn't sign up for this

[oceandiagonale]

should've kept on going but [he] couldn't move

[clowningcrows]

autism be damned that boy can

[desertparallel]

UH. WELL IT'S STILL "AU WHERE EVERYTHING'S THE SAME EXCEPT THERE ARE MONSTERS" BUT THE NUMBER OF MONSTERS HAS INCREASED NOW DSKJFHDSF

[tigers1o1]

The executive dysfunction + pathological demand avoidance is a ROUGH fucking combo

An external force makes me not want to do something, and then i shut down and internally I’m screaming at myself to just get up and do it, that I’m being lazy and that doing literally anything would be better than just laying here, even if its not the specific Thing i need to do. But RAH brain bad, can’t move

[s0methingmoonlit]

[May 6. 2023]

I’m legit scared to post this on Instagram; those guys* are vicious!! They bite!!! D:

*Talking about the Instagram guidelines and how strict they are. Also with how hypocritical they can be.

Anyways, I would like to talk about how PDA somehow got their screen back to normal at the end of TPOT 9, even their face literally got SHATTERED BY ROBOT FLOWER… Like huh?! How did being a zombie magically fix your face?

So I got the idea of Shattered PDA acting like a drunk person from this comic called: “BFDI:TPOT: A Debuter’s second chance” made by HIHOSILVER on Comic Fury. As good as it is, it only has 8 pages and hasn’t updated since October 2023.

As for 9 Ball having giant translucent arms, I had this idea where all the billiard balls were demigods, or at least 8 & 9 ball were, and they had different powers. It’s a bit hard to explain but hopefully I am able to cover this in the future (However, these guys are not as powerful as Puffball who has like a ton of abilities)

Extra art

[chipsncookies]

Dad suspicions... he's conflicted either way

[bechnokid]

It's both a blessing and a curse to have a pairing of two characters from completely different timelines! 😅

[cartoonscientist]

me: "hey, just fyi your insane magical wife is doing an archaeological dig in my front yard again and she hit my water main"

my gf: "well did you bury something for her to find? because if not then that sounds like an issue on your part."

[prevailinghatred]

@silenceofthewave cont. from here.

Megatron completely and totally despised this time of year.

Ever since having contact with humans, it seems like pieces of their abominable culture had slowly assimilated into their own. And one such example was something the humans called colloquially ‘the Holidays’ to refer to an intermingling celebration of various human cultures, that all had a certain sentimental pine-scented, nutmeg, sugar-and-gumdrop flavor to them.

String lights on trees, gaudy ‘ornaments’ dangling precariously from plant life… the humans loved to exchange gifts with their fellows, as well, seemingly for no other reason that Megatron could see than the vaguely called ‘Spirit of Giving’. Whatever that was.

He’d reluctantly allowed all of these indulgences from his Decepticons, mostly because he was intensely aware that for most of the year his forces tended to suffer from low-level malaise. The atmosphere of the Nemesis on most days was rife with despair and unhappiness, and rarely seemed to lift so consistently as it did this time of year — when his fellow Decepticons secretly, or in some cases overtly, indulged in this misguided pantomime of human traditions, not knowing nor particularly caring the message behind the holidays, and rather just latching onto the ‘spirit’ of the celebration itself. Megatron could only roll his optics at this, but the indulgence kept his forces in line and that’s all that mattered at the end of the day. No matter his own personal contempt for the tone of the celebrations.

He glared at the ceiling when Soundwave abruptly stopped him on the Bridge and took his hand. And Primus DAMN it, there it was — one of the most egregious offenders of the Season.

Birdshit on a fucking stick, which then sprouted into parasitic plantlife that the humans loved to dangle over doorways for some reason. And which compelled you to kiss those who passed beneath with you.

He never should’ve allowed this foolishness. He’d been avoiding the Bridge all day, after being informed of its installation — by Knock Out, the stupid fool! — conveniently over the main command console of the ship, trusting instead that his ever-loyal Third in Command would field such unwelcome advances in his stead. And truthfully, he’d just forgotten about it, and been about to ask Soundwave something related to their upcoming mission when he was caught.

But he could acquiesce that perhaps... there was some charm in the holidays, if it meant at long last he could finally...

"...Soundwave." Megatron's voice is so low, his red gaze so fond and open as the other draws him in closer, and he's already offlining his optics in bliss as the other's visor pressed coolly to his lips. How long had he wished for a moment like this with the other? How long had he desired to pull his friend close, cradle it in his arms, touch it as he was touching it now — his servos running tenderly up the other's back, finding sensitive gaps in its armor with the readiness that only a consistent lover should know.

He actually shuddered when they pulled apart, his jaw hard with resolve but his Spark clenching in mingled unhappiness at their separation and joy at the long-awaited kiss he'd yearned for for eons.

He tilted his helm at it, not yet releasing it from his arms. There's a distinct scraping sound as he shifted his weight to better accommodate holding them both upright. No doubt, some superficial paint transfers on them both.

"...Have you wished for this as long as I have?" The question is out before he can help himself, but he can't very well take it back.