#inspiring dialogue i guess

[caressthosecheekbones]

"Why are you so wet?" "Bro, I'm in love with you." Taylor furrowed his brows and tried to keep a sopping Nick from falling forward into his chest again. "What? That doesn't even make sense. Nicky, what the fuck?" Nick tried to open his eyes as the gravity of what he'd just said sank into the depth of his alcoholically challenged consciousness. "I -umm..." he held himself upright with both hands against Taylor's broad chest, his clouded gaze zeroing in on the beauty mark on the man's left tit, which peeked through the wide open gap of his half unbuttoned shirt. "thirsty." was all he had to say in his defence. Hoarsely. Taylor sighed, poking his cheek, "Okay, "Mate", let's get you some water." He chuckled. "Freak." With one arm slung around his friend's shoulders, they continued their slow journey down the wet side walk. After a few minutes of silence in which Nick tried to calculate the odds of Taylor not remembering his verbal malfunction the next day, he almost jumped at the quiet words that fit so well into the calm, dark night surrounding them. "I love you too, ok." Nick's broad smile, the toothy one, directed at his feet to avoid stumbling into another puddle, wouldn't leave his face for the next hour at least.

sorry, this is it... for now(?)

inpired by this post.

[me-writes-prompts]

-: "When are we really going to make things final?” Situationship prompts:-

(People who do these things, leave them. Right now. Lmao, tag me :)

By @me-writes-prompts

“Is this what we do now? Making out and then never talking about it? Great!”

“I thought you wanted more than this. More than what we have right now.”

“It’s like I’m the only one holding on to whatever we have going on, and it’s making me go crazy.”

“You never text me first, why?”

“I asked you if you wanted to go out on a date, but you never responded.”

“Look, I am literally head over heels for you, but here you are, indifferent to everything that I’m feeling.”

“I want to save us, why don’t you understand? Why won’t you try to hold on to us like I am?”

“Is this it? Is this what you wanted? 2 weeks of texting and flirting with me like it was nothing and then friend-zoning me?”

“I cannot believe you. I cannot believe how you are so not into me, but you act like you are.”

“You know what? I’m done with this. I’m done with you, I’m done with us. I can’t do it anymore.”

“That was bullshit back there, you looked at me like I hung the stars for you and now you’re saying that we can’t work out? My day couldn’t get any better.” :)

“Interesting, isn’t it? How you were blushing just from my words two days ago, and now? You don’t even smile at me when you look at me. It fucking hurts.”

[just-french-me-up]

Subtle suggestive smut prompts :

1. "I've missed your touch." 2. "I think about you. Ceaselessly." 3. "You feel so good." 4. "Let me look at you." 5. "Don't stop." 6. "Say it again." 7. "Tell me again." 8. "Your wish is my command." 9. "I am yours to do as you please." 10. "You don't know what you do to me." 11. "You are all I can think about." 12. "The things I want to do to you..." 13. "I want you. All of you." 14. "Take it off." 15. "Close your eyes." 16. "Tell me what you want. In details." 17. "I could come just from looking at you." 18. "Just for me." 19. "You're not playing fair." 20. "Leave it on." 21. "Please." 22. "You'll be the end of me." 23. "I can't wait to take this off you." 24. "Slower. I want to make this last." 25. "Tighter." 26. "Show me." 27. "Just for you." 28. "You blush so beautifully." 29. "I can't get enough of you." 30. "Make me yours."

Feel free to reblog, send and use! I'm also gladly accepting these!

[lunarin64art]

That feeling when he can't stand to see you that way, no matter what you do, no matter what you say😩😭💔

[capn-twitchery]

twitch please mr fires just got blasted by the forbidden magic alphabet can you have some sympathy

(context: i haven't stopped thinking about this ingame thing still. what kind of fucking duo is this)

[youchangedmedestiel]

I have 5 different fic ideas writing down in my phone memo. They all came to me in the space of a week.

I think I'm cursed with ideas and no time to explore them.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

of strangers and chasers

✧ written for 'charm' ✧ word count: 548 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: cowboy au, wandering newcomers stobin ✧ @steddiemicrofic ⁠(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*✧

It's a crowded night at the saloon, but Steve enjoys the company.

He watches Robin laugh with the pretty redhead, Victoria ("But you can call me Vickie," she shyly said to Robin as she led her to a table), her nose scrunching up sweetly. They sit together in their own little world and he thinks, maybe this town is the one for them.

"Thought you said y'all weren't like that."

Steve turns to smile at the bartender and her amused expression. "We aren't," he says simply.

"That mean you free for the night, stranger?"

"'Fraid he's got plans, Abigail," a new voice says as a hand grasps Steve's shoulder. "Plans we should be gettin’ to, eh?”

Abigail rolls her eyes as Steve turns to face Eddie, going back to serving the other customers at the bar. Eddie still has his hat on, the material coated in sprinkles of leaves and thorns.

Steve has to hold back a laugh. “Had fun?”

“You tricked me.” Eddie squints, leaning into Steve’s space. “Why?”

Steve shrugs, hiding back a smirk. “Just wanted some time with the townsfolk, y’know, without any breathin’ goin’ down my neck.”

"Oh, I know. Been watchin' you charm the whole saloon at this point."

"Charm - I was just talking to them -"

"You don't just talk to people, darlin'," Eddie murmurs, pooling into Steve's space, crowding him against the wall. "You listen. You make these folks feel like they're the only person in the whole world, lookin' with those pretty eyes, smilin' that little smile. You don't do nothin', just be and tha's all they need to hope you'll take their hand tonight."

"Getting possessive there, Munson," Steve leans his head against the wall, letting the lowlight warm the stretch of his throat. Eddie's eyes flash dangerously but he doesn't move. "Anyone would think you had somethin' to claim here."

"Somethin'...someone," mutters Eddie as he stares down at Steve's neck.

Steve snickers as he pushes himself off the wall, smoothly pressing their chests together. He stares into Eddie's eyes with heavy lids, breathing in the air he exhales. They stand like that for a moment.

“Should keep you in the murkiest cell we got for that nasty trick you pulled,” Eddie says under his breath, eyes unblinking as they gaze through Steve. “For a week, maybe two.”

He smirks again, reaching up and picking a single, small rosebud that was stuck on the brim of Eddie’s hat, the thorns too small to prick through skin. He holds it up between them and says, “C’mon, deputy. Ain’t I good man deservin’ of another chance to prove my worth?”

Eddie stares at the rosebud as Steve settles it into the folds of his neckerchief, cheeks glowing pink under the dim lighting. “Prove your worth,” he manages to choke out a strained laugh. “It’ll take more than one night to do that, stranger.”

“Good thing I’ve got so much time then, huh?” Steve chuckles when Eddie’s eyes shoot up to stare at his in shock.

“Yer – stayin’? I thought –“

“We ain’t in a rush.” Steve pats Eddie’s neckerchief down. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted to lock me up. Or was that just hyperbole?”

“No sir,” Eddie fumbles. "I mean -"

Oh, Steve does enjoy the company indeed.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Random Hero x Villain prompts: stairs

(The game: this site gives me a random word and I turn it into H/V prompts. You’re welcome to play, to add your own or to use them to write a snippet, just tag me or something if you do.)

The word is: stairs

Villain’s evil lair is a tower. If an unwanted guest tries to climb the stairs, the steps disappear and the intruder glides down - or falls to their death.

Hero is trapped in Villain’s prison. Bound and blindfolded, all they can do is hear Villain’s steps getting closer and closer as they climb down the stairs.

Hero is trapped in Villain’s prison. Bound and blindfolded, all they can do is hear steps getting closer and closer as someone climb down the stairs. However, this time they hear their team's voices.

Hero has the power to conjure up stairs wherever they want. Sure, it’s not as impressive as flying or jumping very high, but it has its perks.

For Superhero, villains are not a problem. No, their real nemesis is the agency’s stairs, because they use a wheelchair or a cane.

“I will never join your side!” “Really? I’ll have you know we have accommodations for all kind of disabilities in our evil lair, including elevators. You’ll never have to use the stairs again.” “...I’m listening.”

A small hero/villain can finally look Superhero/Supervillain in the eye thanks to the stairs. Or they loom over them from the top for the first time, like a monarch from their throne.

Buddies with a big height difference can finally hug with their heads on the same level.

The oracle that has predicted a catastrophic event must be contacted ASAP. Unfortunately, Hero has hundreds of steps to climb before reaching their room.

Villain/Hero got injured during a fight. It’s up to their henchman/sidekick to carry them through the stairs.

Detective is infiltrating the evil lair and is hiding behind the steps, praying they won’t get caught.

Hero discovers that a so-called hero works with Villain, but the mole catches them snooping around. “Oops! Sorry Hero, I can’t let you get away now that you know.” Hero gets thrown off the stairs. Everyone thinks it’s an accident.

*

More prompts like this under this tag.

Back to Hero x Villain Masterlist

[narwhalandchill]

every day i wake up have another fucking Realization about ajax and the shit he says and i just. Holds head in hands

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE SAID THIS IN 1.1 WHAT DOES HE KNOWWWW

like childe Literally said skirk never elaborated on the narwhal thing to his face At All nvm explicitly bring up its origins as a cosmos traveling entity so its like. Either he lied (which would be funny as fuck im ngl) or Literally just . got the completely coincidental urge to call out the phrase "celestial voyager" at . his elemental attack recreation of the creature that just Happens to indeed be A celestial voyager . just Somehow. like how wildly convenient of you to identify that element specifically there with 100% accuracy ajax care to fucking Elaborate on the source of that inspiration there . Thanks xx

(i want this man dead irl)

[theprofessionalpromptmaker]

Person A: I wouldn’t have so many original characters if it weren’t for you! Person B: I’m sorry my creative dick is so fertile and keeps knocking you up with fictional children~ Person A: …Dude. Person B: …I’m sorry, I forgot we weren’t alone. Person C: -sipping their straw loudly- Person D: …And they were ‘co-writers’… Person C: Oh my god, they were co-writers.

[galactic-rhea]

Anyways, I think I'm going to write a follow up for that Leia & Vader oneshot, if I find the time and headspace 🤸‍♂️

[funnyincorrectmcu]

Andrew!Peter: Again we meet, Peter. Tom!Peter: This is true, Peter. Tobey!Peter: *raises an eyebrow*

[pettyprompts]

“Everyone I’ve ever loved like that has left scars on my body. I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

[too-young-to-fall-in-love]

Just Like Me

summary:

From the convenient timing to his inability to stop talking about Paris, talk of their relationship is inevitable. Still, the chasm between them remains. While Napoleon hopes to cross it, he knows he’s only good for making things worse.

Or, the ending events of Amor Magnus Doctor Est - Chapter Five, but from Napoleon’s perspective.

notes:

After reading Amor Magnus Doctor Est for the umpteenth time, I started thinking about how Napoleon would react to the events towards the end of chapter 5.

If you haven’t read the fic, PLEASE DO SO!! I PROMISE you will not regret it (although it may take over your entire life and influence your trip to Chicago, but that’s probably something that only happens to yours truly). However, you don’t have to read the original fic to understand this standalone.

excerpt:

The bitter cold runs its sharp tendrils up his spine and he can’t hold back a slight shiver. Even faced with Illya’s so-called inhuman warmth, it’s a force to be reckoned with. He knows he should move; that they either need to continue this walk or he needs to duck out. At the same time, nothing could convince him to move from this moment.

As if to root him to said moment, Illya’s arm wraps gently around his shoulders, pulling him minutely closer. He blames it on instinct, the way he immediately slides his arm behind Illya’s waist and leans closer. Illya is warm, he notes, his presence soothing and achingly familiar even if they’ve never shared a moment quite like this. He finds himself hoping it will last forever. A voice in his head is quick to retort that he doesn’t deserve it, though it sounds close enough to Victoria’s voice that he steadfastly ignores it.

“You really are warm, Peril,” he murmurs, blaming the sudden looseness of his tongue on the pitch blackness of the night sky and the way it seems to absorb his words, or perhaps the alcohol that really had no impact on him. He’s terrified, though, of the real reason: he feels safe here.

read more on ao3

inspired by Amor Magnus Doctor Est by @cha-melodius

[novafire-is-thinking]

nono tell us the angst i wanna hear it

You asked. You are receiving :)

Rodimus never liked looking back much, but here he found himself, scrolling through old photos in the dark of his room. For some reason, the cracks on his phone screen seemed worse than before. He’d never bothered with repairs, as the device had continued working just fine. It wasn’t like he could afford to get it fixed anyway. The last few years hadn’t been kind, and the future didn’t look much better, which was probably why he was willing to look backwards to get a taste of better times.

When he made it back far enough to the moments he captured during the Lost Light adventure— his Lost Light adventure, he lingered on each one a little longer than the last.

A group pic of the entire medical crew, including that Decepticon mechanic— what was her name? Nickel?

A video of Drift getting his ass kicked by Cyclonus in a duel.

Magnus in the supersized armor Brainstorm had slapped together for the showdown with the DJD.

Soon, Rodimus was tired of keeping company with nostalgia. There was no use looking back when those days and those feelings were long-gone.

He began swiping faster, not really having a goal in mind except to escape the pull of the sadness that was trying to settle inside him. Drift was better with feelings. He’d often teased Rodimus about that fact.

I miss you, Drift. My feelings felt safe when you were around. Nowadays, they just taunt me.

Familiar gray flew across the screen beneath his thumb. Rodimus swiped back until he found the source.

A small laugh escaped him. The photo was one of many selfies he’d taken during his adventure. What set it apart from the others was a camera-shy Megatron in the background, trying his best to avoid the picture by sliding his head down into his chest.

Rodimus didn’t have many photos with Megatron. It was ironic that the guy who spent most of his life in the spotlight commanding armies and not-armies turned out to hate focused attention. Then again, drawing up battle plans and bossing others around is very different from being forced to do almost nothing while having a picture taken.

That thought struck something deep inside Rodimus. He realized he understood Megatron, in this respect. They were different in many ways, but they both had trouble just being. Forward momentum was everything to both of them. Rodimus chased the thrill of the next exciting thing while Megatron had chased the thrill of power. Of conquest.

Part of him fought against the newfound revelation, but another part of him welcomed it. The sudden need to share this with Megatron rose up within him.

But reality followed closely behind.

Megatron was gone.

The trial had taken place several years ago—the exact year forgotten by Rodimus. The memory that spilled back into his consciousness first was of the crowds surrounding Raskol Arena.

The arena. That horrible, beautiful arena.

He remembered the angry crowd of bots, many of whom were holding signs stained with their own energon. The message was clear. Decepticons blamed Megatron for leading them down a path with nothing but pain to show for it while the Autobots blamed him for that and everything else. Neutrals weren’t any less angry for their own reasons.

As usual, Rodimus had arrived late. He nearly got his head smashed in by angry spectators as he shoved his way through them to get into the stadium. Similar to last time, a limit had been placed on how many were allowed into the stadium with pre-approved individuals taking priority before regular civilians were allowed inside. This meant most of those who had come to watch were forced to stay outside, which did nothing to ease the tension.

Compared to the last attempt at a trial, security was much tighter. Rodimus had struggled to get proper clearance until Prowl intervened. He was the last bot Rodimus expected to speak on his behalf, but he was grateful. Rodimus had hoped to get information from Prowl about the planned proceedings, but the weary strategist was locked into “job mode” and wouldn’t share anything as he helped Rodimus find a spot from where he could watch without trouble.

With a sharp comment about not being late next time if he wants to get in, Prowl turned around quickly and walked off. Rodimus watched Prowl until the tips of his gold chevron disappeared into the crowd. I’ll ask someone else later, then.

The first day of proceedings went relatively smoothly. This time, it was the Galactic Council that had gathered to preside over the trial, but it was no less tense. Witnesses were called up. Heated words were exchanged. Nothing new.

Day two arrived, and Rodimus managed to show up on time, by some miracle. Drift was waiting for him. He said something about Prowl sending him to keep an eye out for a certain straggler. They both knew what he’d meant.

Drift led Rodimus to their seats. As soon as they sat down, Drift caught Rodimus up on everything Prowl had told him.

Oh, so he’ll talk to the former Decepticon, but not me?

Rodimus was glad he didn’t put much effort into trying to understand Prowl. He figured he’d probably end up driving himself crazy. But if Rodimus was honest with himself, he was glad guys like Prowl existed, despite how much he hated being around him. Rodimus knew he wouldn’t be any good in Prowl’s position as a prosecutor, especially in a trial as huge as Megatron’s.

The day was as uneventful as the first one. Besides the angry crowd outside and the occasional disruption, everyone remained relatively civil as witness after witness was called up. It was almost eerie.

Each day after that, Rodimus managed to arrive on time, and Drift was always there to meet him.

Eventually, Rodimus gave his testimony on behalf of Megatron. It was the last day of the trial, and everyone was anxious to be done with it. Rodimus was torn between wanting it to be over and dreading the end.

During a recess, Rodimus met up with Magnus, who escorted him to Megatron’s cell for what he assumed was his final visit.

To Rodimus, Megatron seemed oddly serene for someone about to be sentenced either to death or infinite imprisonment. As they talked, Rodimus guessed that, like him, Megatron had more to say, but was holding back. However, unlike Drift, he wasn’t any good at coaxing others to open up, so he let those words go unspoken.

When Ultra Magnus returned and announced that a verdict had been reached, Rodimus fell silent. He watched as Magnus and Megatron said their goodbyes and let Megatron say his final piece.

Sure, Megatron deserved much more than whatever was coming to him, but it still saddened Rodimus to hear it from his friend.

Friend.

Yes. Rodimus was finally ready to admit that, against all odds, Megatron had indeed become a friend to him. It was a bit late to accept it, but he refused to fight it this time.

Before he had a chance to say anything to Megatron, the former warlord was on his way back to the sentencing chamber with Ultra Magnus. Rodimus looked down at the broken Rodimus Star in his hand and ran his thumb over the cracks and the jagged edge where a piece was missing.

With resolve, he ran as fast as he could to join everyone else for the declaration of the final verdict. He located Drift in the frenzy of anxious spectators, and the two of them made their way to their seats.

Despite the lack of a roof, the entire place felt suffocating to Rodimus as the Galactic Council took their seats and requested that Megatron stand to his feet. Ultra Magnus rose with him.

The silence of the crowd was unnerving. Rodimus noticed Prowl and several security guards step up onto the elevated platform, closing in around Megatron and Magnus. They expected trouble.

As soon as the words “to be executed” were uttered, the silence was shattered by a deafening roar from the crowd inside the stadium and from outside its walls.

Within moments, the shouts of victory were replaced with shouts of anger and panic. Absolute chaos ensued. Rodimus looked back and registered a wave of bots pouring in. The crowd outside had broken through security forces and was pouring into the stadium at a stampede’s pace from multiple entrances, even some that had been previously closed off. Those already inside began to panic.

On instinct, Rodimus grabbed Drift and started making his way toward the middle of the stadium, as he figured that was where everyone would inevitably be pushed. It was better than possibly getting trampled, and some crazy part of him still hoped to say something—anything to Megatron one last time.

Rodimus noticed Prowl standing in front of Megatron on the elevated platform, shouting commands over comms and directing security forces to surround the two of them, Magnus, and the Galactic Council.

Nice going, Prowl. You might make my energon boil, but I’ll admit you’re pretty damn good at keeping people alive when all hell breaks loose.

Drift had no trouble keeping up with Rodimus. The two of them darted and wormed their way through the obstacle course of panicked bots. Whatever barriers were put in place did nothing to stop the frenzied mass of bodies making its way toward the middle of the stadium.

Those who had flight-capable alt modes took to the skies and escaped that way. Some with ground modes transformed, but with nowhere to go, they were pushed around or climbed over.

Rodimus abandoned himself to the rush of adrenaline surging through him. He and Drift were close to reaching the center when the crowd suddenly shifted and closed in further.

The pathway to Megatron was blocked.

Despite his best attempts, Rodimus was unable to break through. Beside him, Drift looked ready to draw both of his swords, as things were quickly going from bad to worse with bots getting trampled several rows behind them, if one could even call them rows.

Megatron and the rest of the middle group were secure within their ring of security guards, although things were getting tight there too.

A break in the crowd opened up for a split-second, allowing Rodimus and Drift to move a few feet closer to the inner circle.

Now close enough for Megatron to see him, Rodimus began waving both his hands above his head and shouting Megatron’s name. Never mind the fact that it was way too loud to hear each other speak if he did manage to get his attention. Rodimus just wanted one last something from Megatron. In all likelihood, this was the last time they’d lay eyes on each other, and Rodimus refused to let him go without a last goodbye.

Drift joined him in trying to get Megatron’s attention. The two of them had made it this far together, and Rodimus found himself smiling at how ridiculous they must look to everyone else.

Finally, Megatron noticed them. He locked eyes with Rodimus first, and then Drift.

He smiled.

Rodimus liked to think that if Megatron had been uncuffed, he would have waved back at them. Now that they’d seen each other, Rodimus and Drift stopped waving, unsure of what to do next.

The smile on Megatron’s face faded. A somber look was in its place, and he appeared to be contemplating something.

After a moment, he met Rodimus’ eyes again and shouted something.

Unable to hear above the steadily increasing panic around them, Rodimus stared at Megatron in confusion. The guards were beginning to close in further around the inner circle and pull him out of sight.

Megatron tried again, but this time, he chose not to use his voice and instead focused on mouthing the words:

Thank you.

He looked at Drift and did the same.

Before Rodimus could fully register what Megatron had said, he was out of sight. Then Prowl yelled at Soundwave over comms.

Something pierced the air—a sound so deafening it was disorienting. Everyone covered their audio receptors, doubled over in pain, or both.

It didn’t take long for bots on the outer edges to start making their way out of the stadium, gradually freeing up space inside.

Once the stadium was empty enough, the sound ceased. Using the stadium’s PA system, Prowl coldly apologized for the disturbance and asked everyone who remained to vacate the premises. Calmly.

Drift was ready to leave, but Rodimus had other plans. He waited until almost everyone had cleared out before trotting back toward the center where Prowl was. As he approached him, he noticed a piece of Prowl’s chevron was missing on the left side, probably lost during the commotion of earlier.

As soon as the strategist laid eyes on him, he scowled.

“Did Soundwave’s trick make you deaf? I told everyone to leave.”

“Oh, so that was Soundwave, was it? Not surprised you had a plan.”

Prowl scoffed. “Of course I had a plan. All those bots in one place during the biggest trial in Cybertronian history wasn’t going to end any other way.”

“Maybe not,” Rodimus replied.

They fell into an awkward silence.

Prowl shifted. “Anything else?”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of.”

Rodimus pulled out the broken Rodimus Star and held it, feeling the jagged edge again. He glanced up at Prowl.

“You should probably get that fixed,” he said, gesturing to the damaged chevron. The old red peeked out from under the gold.

Prowl lifted his hand and felt where Rodimus had pointed. “Great. It’s broken again.”

“Again?” Rodimus questioned.

“Long story. Not telling. Just get to your point, unless you’re really wasting my time by giving me aesthetic recommendations.”

Rodimus chuckled. “Same old Prowl.”

“You have no idea.”

“Yeah, I probably don’t. Anyway”—Rodimus held out the Rodimus Star to Prowl— “Thought I’d give you this.”

Prowl stared blankly at the gold star. “What is it?”

“Consider it an award for keeping people alive today.”

This earned Rodimus a glare.

“Why would I want a worthless trinket for doing my job?”

Rodimus sighed. “It’s not a ‘worthless trinket,’ Prowl. It’s something I would give to members of my crew for doing something I thought should be recognized. Something they’re good at.”

Prowl considered the explanation. “I see.”

Based on the skepticism in Prowl’s voice, Rodimus guessed he was thinking of every reason why it was ridiculous. It was a star. With Rodimus’ face on it.

He held the star up to Prowl’s face. “Just take it, okay? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid.”

Prowl took the star from Rodimus and scrutinized it.

Rodimus continued. “And don’t you dare throw it out or lose the thing somewhere. It…It means a lot to me and someone else I know.”

Once satisfied that Prowl was serious about keeping his reward, Rodimus turned to leave.

“Thank you,” came Prowl’s delayed response.

Rodimus turned around and gave Prowl a thumbs-up and a smile as he jogged back towards Drift who’d been patiently waiting for him near the exit.

Rodimus smiled sadly at the memories.

He thought about how Megatron had been taken away before he’d had a chance to respond to him.

He thought about Prowl and wondered if the guy still had that silly little star.

The photo on his phone beckoned him again. Rodimus ran the tip of his thumb over the cracked phone screen, noticing this time how the cracks over Megatron’s half-hidden face were the worst.

“You’re welcome, Megs.”

Before he could talk himself out of it, Rodimus pulled up Prowl’s old number and sent the photo to him with two words:

“You’re welcome.”

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Did you fully take that "both of them want to bottom" comic from popular furry artist skunkes or ????

I almost didnt want to answer this bc u got their whole government name out here without slashes; I dont want them to look up their own name and see this silly blog 😭😭

I think take is an AWFUL strong word where nothing is even remotely traced or copied 😭😭😭 I like their art alot and I when i was thinking about this specific scenario i was like ‘i am so sure someone did a comic w this exact vibe 🤔’ I love them but um. I do not think he owns the concept of ‘two men want to bottom and they are unable to communicate that easily’