#i saw the other ask

[cyberrose2001]

imagine sentinel in bondage with a spreader bar… the edging and wireplay?? fuck. he’d be straining and shaking so hard his plating is rattling together. and the bondage would prevent him from touching himself, sentinel would be wrecked in no time. edging him would be the best though, seeing him twitch and strain against the ropes. he’ll beg you for an overload, apologize for being so bratty, make promises that you won’t have to ever lift a finger for him again if you just let him overload. it’s real cute. or you could edge him on with a ball gag, he’ll bite on it in an effort to silence himself but fail so hard it’s almost funny when he starts whimpering again. he’ll drool all over the gag, too. once you open up some paneling on his chassis or abdominal plating he’s done for. he’ll squirm all he can in the ropes while you run fingers through his wiring, making his voice crack when he moans. when you reach his spark chamber or tanks he’ll just fucking beg for you to touch him more. which you won’t. you’ll close him back up and he’ll look at you with the most crestfallen, disappointed, pitiful expression. he looks like a kicked puppy, poor thing. here’s the thing, he’s going to cry from being sexually frustrated. so when he starts now, you’re surprised he hasn’t started sooner. if you choose to fully deny him of any touch then on, he’ll sob and cry and gasp until you let him touch his own array.

if you choose to take mercy on sentinel, he’ll be screaming “thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” (if he can) as long as your hands are on him.

hhhhmmmm yes to all this, it’s 2am buuuuut i might continue on from this a lil further hehe

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” Your soft fingers lightly graze over his interfacing array, collecting the sticky fluid oozing between the cracks. It leaks out onto the berth and stains the sheets a light pink, but the sheets are the least of your concerns at the moment.

“Mmhmmff!” Sentinel whines, thighs shaking from the bar forcing his legs open and from being edged far to long for his liking. You’re sure that he’s agreeing with you, but it’s hard to tell when his pretty intake is stuffed with pretty gag.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You withdraw your fingers and he bucks his hips at the loss of stimulation, “I can’t hear you with your mouth full, did you want an overload?”

Sentinel’s optics light up as he profusely nods, lubricant cascades down his face and mixes with the oral lubricant dripping down his chin. He’s sobbing, an absolute mess, just how you like it. But you’re not gonna give him what he wants, he’ll have to prove to you he isn’t going to disobey you again.

“Hm, alright then. I suppose you deserve it,” You lean up and un-clip the bonds from his servos, “But you need to listen to me, ok baby?”

Sentinel muffles an incoherent babble of words again. He keeps his trembling servos at his side, waiting for your following instructions, digits fidgeting with the sheets. He watches with restrained optics as you lean back onto the bed, spread your thighs and expose your sex to him.

You sigh as you trail your fingers down to your heat, slowly toying with yourself. And the look on Sentinels’ face is fucking gorgeous as he drinks in the sight he can't touch.

“Open up,” You softly moan, “If you want an overload, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

Not even a second after those words left your lips, his interfacing array unclicks, and he buries a digit inside his soaked valve. His optics are trained on you as he bucks his hips as best as he can, and he overloads so damn hard that his whole frame shudders and recoils inward. Aftershocks wrack his frame as he finally reaches his high. Although disappointed that it wasn’t from your fingers like he hoped, it was sweet relief from hours of edging.

Sentinels’ hips jitter as he keeps a soaked digit stuffed in his valve, muttering ‘thank you’s, ‘I love you’s’ and how well he’s going to behave for you from now on.

You know damn well he’ll still be a brat after this.

[veesgameblog]

Hey! Vee. You. You. Yes you.

Your shade of green is cool.

" What do- huh? Did... did you, the all noisy and rude-to-all Shrimpo told me a compliment? "

" I did not get a warning of the world ending today... That would mean... thank you? "

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[justsigma-bsd]

*curses you to have ham in your pocket*

Don’t ask

"... huh?"

[woman-respecter]

are women literally allowed to have anything anymore? like i know that march already devolved into an antisemitic circlejerk by like 2019 but this is STILL disappointing. women’s rights are under attack now more than ever but we are supposed call it a “people’s march.” what a joke.

[ghost-proofbaby]

GHOOOST i saw your valentine blurb event and thought i’d drop in something! 🥹

24 hours eddie has been living in my mind rent free and i can’t help but feel like he’s the type to act tough and all that, but instantly melts into a gooey simpy lovesick puddle the second you call him “baby” ❤️ like yeah he likes to be called nicknames like ed or eds, but petnames??? he’s done for. just turns into a blushing blubbering mess. especially with the way he has repressed all his emotions for so long, it’s fun to kind of tease him and call him “handsome” “pretty boy” “baby boy” just to see him break his facade and just unapologetically be the golden retriever that he really is ❤️❤️❤️

i think my favorite thing about this vision is the way he would try to fight it so bad. hiding his face in your neck and blushing all terrible and gaaaaaaaahh. i hope this does it justice <3

warnings: fem!reader. reader is described to be wearing a dress, makeup, earrings, and heels. not edited. set in twenty four hours universe, after the story!

“Eddie!” 

No answer.

“Eds!” 

No answer.

“Edward Munson!” 

Your patience is wearing thin as you finally pop on the back of the earring you had been struggling with. The studs weren’t even anything fancy, hardly worth all the time you’d just spent fighting with it, but you were determined to look nice. 

Valentine’s Day. A day meant to be filled with blissful serenity and endless heart eyes, that was really only becoming the bane of your existence. 

“I swear to God,” you mumble to yourself, huffing a bit as you try to clean up the mess you’ve made of the bathroom sink. Makeup everywhere, various pieces of jewelry scattered, your curling iron still warm on the edge of porcelain. You decide rather quickly it’s a mess to be dealt with later tonight. Or tomorrow. Or next week. “If he’s still fucking with that bike.” 

The sharp clicks of your heels transform as you walk from tile to laminate-wood flooring, becoming a bit more dull and less obnoxious as you take the hallway by storm. 

Next year, you’re telling Steve to go fuck himself if he tries to lure you and Eddie into another double date. 

“Eddie, we only have thirty minutes until we nee-” you stress as you reach the end of the hall, cutting off entirely as you catch sight of the living room. 

Of the living room, and your boyfriend. 

“What is that?” 

You think you might actually kill him. 

“What?” Eddie doesn’t even look up at you, and you make a mental strike against him, “I told you, I’m working on the bi-”

“Yes,” you cut him off, taking a few harsh steps into the very crowded living room, “You were supposed to bring up a part of the bike. Why is the entire bike in our living room, Munson?” 

You mean it – you’re going to kick his ass by the end of today. 

His bike is propped up there, right in front of the TV, entirely blocking the pathway to the balcony. The bike that should be outside. The bike that certainly has God knows what all over the tires, and is sitting right on your rug you just bought for the living room. 

Eddie stops his tinkering with whatever piece he’d removed from the bike to work on on the coffee table, abiding by your rule of having a towel down below it to avoid getting grease everywhere, “What do you mean?” 

He’s playing dumb. And he probably thinks he looks cute as he does it, but no amount of fluttering lashes or boyish grins can soothe your irritation. 

“You’re an idiot, but you’re not stupid,” you hiss as you cross the room and stand right in front of him, only seeing the crown of his head as he keeps his eyes dipped low in shame, “When did you… How did you…. When the fuck did you bring the bike up?” 

You can hardly manage a fluent sentence as you look between Eddie and the bike, mind blown in the truest sense. 

His voice is a mere murmur as he fiddles with one of his wrenches, flipping it over a few times before he answers, “While you were in the shower.” 

“How?” 

“The frat boys downstairs,” he rushes out in one breath, eyes still locked on the ground rather than you. “I, uh, paid a few of them to help me lug it up.”

You sigh heavily, throwing your head back before you move to the couch and dramatically throw yourself down with defeat, “You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that, Munson?” 

“You say that like it’s new news,” he says as he twists to finally look at you, eyebrow quirked and the shadow of his dimple making an appearance while he fights a smug smile, “I think you’d be more worried if I wasn’t being a pain in your ass.” 

He’s right. It doesn’t slow the roll of your eyes, though. 

“You know I love you, right?” you say, suddenly using a sickeningly sweet tone as you lean in closer to where he sits on the ground. His face falls a bit, confusion lacing his brows together, “But, baby, if you keep this up… I’m going to kick your ass.” 

He should look a whole lot more scared than he currently does as you deliver the threat, but he entirely throws you off when he grins. 

An ear splitting grin, spreading cheek from cheek, radiating with anything but trepidation. He lights up, posture perking up as he looks at you with soft eyes. It looks as though you might have told him you loved him for the first time all over again, as though you’ve just reminded him of how you wanted to spend your life with him rather than said you were going to kick his ass. 

The fight and issue at hand is momentarily forgotten as he whispers, “What did you just call me?” 

“What did I just call you?” you question incredulously, leaning back fully, wholly concerned now. Maybe you should call Steve and cancel the date, “I- I just threatened to kick your ass, and you’re making heart eyes at me, asking me what I just called you?”

You rewind a bit in your brain, going over the moment again, trying to figure out if you’d let something unusual slip. Deciphering any moment that might have pulled this reaction from him. 

You come up empty. Nothing. 

“Did you just…” he trails off, cheeks surely aching as they shine with a bit of natural blush, “Did you just call me baby?” 

Oh. That. 

You look about the room for a second, taking in this predicament you’d gotten yourself into, “Do you not want me to call you that? I just-”

“No!” he rushes to stop you before you can take it back, “I mean, it’s fine. That’s not the issue, I just-” 

He cuts off, and you realize just how flustered he is. 

Now you’re smiling, right along with him, “You like it?” 

“Sort of,” he shrugs, going a bit shy on you now, “It… I mean, if you want to start calling me stuff like that, I don’t mind. It’s fine. It’s cool.” 

“Baby,” you say in place of his name, so naturally, like honey. You’re leaning forward once more, entering his orbit as you softly tease, “You’re blushing.” 

The words turn him even more scarlet, “Fuck off.”

“What?” it’s your turn to act innocent, rearranging yourself on the couch to be more comfortable, “I thought you said you liked it when I called you stuff like that-”

Eddie movies quickly from the floor, gathering himself up in record time that would have had him groaning in protest on any other occasion. You’ve hardly leaned an elbow back on the couch’s arm when he gets on top of you.

Even if he’s trying to stop you from all your taunting with his words, his kiss says otherwise.

It’s hot, heavy, desperate – like alarm bells might be ringing in his head and telling him to run to the nearest safety of your lips. You welcome him in, of course. Take his lips right between yours with an eagerness to match, forgetting all about the lipstick you’d just applied moments before. Thighs spreading to bring him home to you, arms quickly searching out solace of all the skin below his Deftones t-shirt. Straining biceps as he holds himself over you, squared shoulders as he balances to stay right where he belongs. His chest even heaves ever so slightly with little gasps between kisses, both your lungs needing air despite the magnetic protest between you two. 

“God,” you gasp out during one of those short breaks, making him divert a kiss to the corner of your mouth instead, “If you’re gonna kiss me like this every time I call you baby, I should do it more often,” he grunts, and tries to reignite a kiss, probably just to shut you up. You don’t let him, turning a cheek and forcing his searching mouth to plant a peck there instead, laughing a little, “Maybe I should be sure to use the nickname during dinner with Steve, hm?” 

“Don’t you dare,” he groans as his lips seek out your jaw and neck next, peppering kisses between words. For each syllable, there’s a smack of his lips against your skin. 

You ponder back to the time before you saw this side of Eddie; before someone so soft, so caring, so affectionate existed for you. It’s hard to even recall all those times now with the puddle of a man hovering over you. 

“No?” you hum, head thrown back, letting him have his way as your fingers toy with the band around his bun, “What about pretty boy instead?” 

Another groan, vibrating against your skin. 

“Or handsome?” 

This time, he nips the sensitive spot below your ear with his teeth in response.

You gasp, half from the bite and half with faux enthusiasm, “Oh! I know! I’ll take one out of your books and call you sweetheart.” 

He finally moans in annoyance, and you know it’s all an act as he faceplants into your chest. You can feel his smile, radiant as ever, muffled by your skin and dress. 

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” his echo of your earlier words come out around the cotton neckline, “You know that?” 

You ruffle the kinks of his curls at his scalp a little, giving a scratch for good measure, “Yeah. Tell me something I don’t know, handsome.” 

The full weight of him falls along your body finally, and he has a boyish glint when he raises his head. Seeking hands find promise along your hips, bunching the fabric of your black dress up into his fists before he’s kissing you again. 

A little less hot, a little less heavy, a little less desperate. Just as rewarding as before, though. 

Somewhere between simply nice and deathly devoted, you two let your mouths explore at a leisure pace. His lips, the apples of his cheeks, the line of his jaw down to his chin – no space is left unkissed, and you finally notice the smear of red lipstick. 

“Oh, shit,” you laugh out, not sounding the least bit sorry as you look at the fading marks left behind, “I got my lipstick all over you.” 

When he lifts from the crook of your neck, you catch the stain feathering out around his own lips, a bit smeared along his chin, “And you. I dunno if we can go to dinner lookin’ like this, doll.” 

You get it. His reaction to your slip of a pet name. 

You have the same reaction as he does it to you, gut fluttering and chest buzzing with tenderness at the sentiments. It’s a simple thing, probably a bit cheesy and cringey to outsiders, but it works between the two of you. You like hearing him grant you the pleasure of a nickname, whether it be sweetheart or doll. You love the hidden devotion beneath the delivery, whether it be idiot or fool. 

There’s always an unspoken my in the mix. A certain sense of belonging to him that you can’t really explain to others without being looked at as if you’ve grown a second head. 

Why would you want to belong to another person, in any sense of the word? 

The answer feels simple enough when you look up at your boy, covered and pretty in Maybelline’s “Ruby for Me”.

“You’re not getting out of this double date,” you whisper back, still toying with his hair, still looking up at him with all the love you’re capable of growing within this chest of yours. It’s a bit more than yesterday, that much you’re sure. Each day, he finds a way to push the limits just a bit more, make a little bit more room behind your ribs for all the affection you hold for him, “If I’m stuck in this impending disaster, so are you.” 

He sighs, head slipping into the crook of your neck, “Yeah… Yeah, that sounds about right.” 

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” 

“Me? Disappointed with you?” he gasps, breath hot on your skin still as he snuggles in a little closer, grips the soft fabric of your dress a little tighter, “Oh, never.”

“Oh, so you decide to sound sarcastic instead?” you’re fighting a grin, trying to find a reason to be mad at him again. Hell, you even glance at the motorcycle in your damn living room to reignite the smallest of sparks – nothing, “You wound me, pretty boy.” 

“You’re all about stealing my lines tonight, I see,” he teases as he finally begins to peel himself away from you. He’s all soft – soft eyes, soft smile, soft cheeks, soft flush. Soft, soft, soft. “I guess if there’s no way to convince you to stay home instead of going to this stupid double date, we both gotta get cleaned up now.” 

You adore him. If you could bottle up all that softness you’re witnessing with your own two eyes just for a rainy day, you would. 

He starts to stand on his knees, moving to leave you entirely and take all that mellow delight away from you too soon, when you lock your heels against his lower back. 

Wrapping your legs a little too tightly around his waist, you raise a brow, “You may not be able to convince me to stay home entirely, but… no one ever said you couldn’t convince me to be about, let’s say, ten minutes late.” 

He tilts his head at you, eyes wide, “Only ten minutes?” 

“Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. Let’s make it fifteen.” 

He crashes back into you in an instant, both of you giggling in the process. 

With the weight of your pretty boy between your hips, and the caress of his lips against your chest, you accidentally make it nearly thirty minutes late. You don’t really care – not when it comes to Eddie.

[xiewho]

no time to celebrate

[turnipoddity]

mhnnnhmmmm handsssssssss.s..s..s........

yeah….

[oxymoronicdumbass]

second stage of fandom is wanting to make a reference to your show, but not being able to because the reference is to a fanfic, and it is almost guaranteed that even among fellow members of the fandom, nobody will understand what you are talking about

[cdelphiki]

I don’t know who needs to hear it but if you get an ask that’s like “hello from [insert country having some serious troubles that the world cares about presently] because of all the war in my country my family is struggling. Could you spread this for awareness and send me money? We’d greatly appreciate it.” It’s a SCAM

ITS A SCAM

It’s still a scam if “people” “verify” it’s real. The “people” verifying are either the same person sending the ask or accomplices.

Don’t send your money to random people on the internet like that. Donate to organizations you’ve done research on to ensure the money is going to helping people.

I have seen this ask dozens of times and it’s almost always the same exact wording, right down to the excessive use of emojis. Last year all these “people” (scammers) were from Ukraine, now they’re from Gaza/Palestine. They’re SCAMMERS. There’s no telling where they’re really from but they aren’t real. If you want to help people in hardship, your money will actually be put to good use if you donate to a nonprofit organization (that you’ve researched) or if you go to go fund me. Just make sure you do a little digging there, too. Sending money to scammers just encourages the gross scamming behavior.

[laddertek]

etho said actually you _don't_ understand the intricacies of how tango is my boyfriend and bdubs is my ex

(and how tango and bdubs kiss too)

Scar: We went on that little adventure, you know! Etho: Yeah, yeah, we had our adventure, that's true, that's true. Scar: You disparaged your teammates. That's it, all right, no more spoilers. Etho: (laughs) Our team has -- our team has some weird dynamics this -- this season. Cleo: (overlapping) Really, Etho? Is there trouble in paradise? (pause) Who's third-wheeling with you, again? I can't remember. Etho: (laughs) Uhh. The -- Cleo: Genuinely can't remember. I know it's you and Bdubs. And...Tango? Tango. Tango. Etho: (loudly) Why -- Why is Tango the third wheel? Why -- why isn't Bdubs the third wheel? Cleo: Because it's you and Bdubs. I'm sorry. I understand how that relationship goes. Etho: (dissatisfied) Hmm.

[chalkrub]

strange fellas

[tonycries]

i think my life was more peaceful when jjk meant jeon jungkook because atleast then i didnt have to deal with the emotional trauma of lusting over men who will never exist and [SPOILER] die gruesome deaths in their universe

-🎀

Nah because literallyyyy this series has upturned my life and I demand compensation from Gege 😡

[digitalgoat]

Fan art of @wolfertinger666’s Salem bc he inspired me to make this blog :]

[keferon]

Getting Lost

(part 1...maybe?)

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

He gets lost. He dives into the ocean of color and sound that is his mind. Here there is no crowd, no little hands tapping on the windows for his attention, no loudspeakers announcing what humans called a "show" or monitors giving him orders to do somersaults to entertain the audience. Here there was only him and infinity.

Nothing was limited, in this space that belongs only to him, he is free. Then he thinks, he sees the world, thinks back to the past. He sees the water again, not the one in his pool, but the one that tastes like salt, the one that is never still, the one that like him does not stop, the one that forever holds the memory of his childhood. It is over there that his cradle is, over there that the world begins, because here it is not the world, because here is limited, here his body fits between four walls, immersed in filtered water and rocked by the sound of the pump hidden behind the concrete.

So in this small part of infinity, he opens a new door and loses himself in his own universe. He tells himself that if he thinks hard enough, if he gets lost far away, the sound of the pump will become that of the whales, that if he continues to dive, the tiles at the bottom of his prison will start to move like the algae of yesteryear... To stop being bored, to drown his sorrow and forget the heaviness of his fins, he gets lost.

In his world of noise and lights, nothing was and everything was at the same time, human languages were refined and distorted into familiar clicks and songs that made him think that maybe home wasn't so far away.....

And then he was taken out again, infinity moved away through an invisible harness that was once very real and left only the cage.

The day had just begun, and an uncomfortable feeling crept into him. The atmosphere was heavy, waiting for something, the humans seemed more excited than usual and they posted on the windows of his pool: "Jazz the orca will be absent today but will return soon with brand new tricks!".

Absent? Absent why? Did they want to make him undergo medical examinations? Make him learn new pirouettes so that the entries increase? No matter the plan of the humans, it made his mind disturbed and troubled. He could not get lost, not return to his world where time no longer counts. No, here he was waiting, he was spinning, he knew that his part of infinity would change for maybe the best, but more likely for the worst.

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

-🦇🐧

(First time doing something like this hope you like it!)

"He knew that his part of infinity would change for maybe the best, but more likely for the worst."

[cubbihue]

What does Timmy think of his little brother Peri growing up to have a neurotic personality?

Peri's always had severe anxiety. It sorta comes with being the first baby born in a 1000 years and constantly being kidnapped by everyone around you.

Timmy's just glad Peri grew up to be more confident in himself, and more assertive.

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