#manny sherman

[redran6er]

Its been awhile since I last drew anything TDIM related but...have some bloody Sherman after a night of slaughter

[108garys]

Resilience

for my first fic of the year here's my first ever fic related to the quarry, but of course I am a lover of the supermassiverse as always so it definitely references dark pictures stuff, namely the hoa vampires as this is a post canon vampire Abi fic but there is one other anthology character in this

Warnings are: biting, choking, impalement, disembowelment, blood, drinking blood, unethical experimentation, captivity, just generally gets violent around the middle, mental intrusion, surreal nightmare/dreams, cannibalistic elements(4800+ words)

(end of summer/2021)

"...the subject was infected?"

Abi tries to lift her head, her arm burning from where she was bit hours ago. "She didn't turn..." A man's voice reaches her ears through a haze, a weight lay heavily on her chest, cold metal stings her skin, the bright lights above blinding. "...it was in her system for hours, she should have..." She shuts her eyes, a faint throbbing in her head, surely she will be released soon... "...the subject's resilience is unprecedented..." she curls on the bench in the small cell as the voices murmur about resistances, about curses and tests... So many tests...

__

She drifted away in the darkness, back in that place... A kiss in a clearing, moonlit cool breeze, hands in hands on fabric and flesh and teeth, tasting something new... Unease. Blood and fear, desperation and betrayal... Tainted by gloss she does not wear...

In the void of white hot light she is held by unseen hands. Strange voices echo in the nothing, speaking of a darker darkness far below the earth, her mind is ever moving through a thick sludge as the essence of terror moves through her. Abigail is tormented by what was, what could have been and the things she'll never know... The sight of her head torn from her, bloodied tiles, her body picked apart piece by piece... an easy meal and other more human horrors as she coughs and chokes, filling until overflow until her heart beat drowns out all else, pushed past her limitations, breaking apart, as she was expected to do. It must end, she could not bare it and yet... She had survived.

...Another test passed, another trial overcome...

__

All fades into normalcy, the faceless ones ask and ask and record in repeation, twisting around account of memories and nightmares until the boundaries blur and bleed together.

She is starving but not starved, she eats and eats as they provide, unable to be truly satisfied... Her grasp on the concept of time slips, split between the white of waking horror and the black of night terrors, greying further they take blood and replace it with something else... mark her all over in preparation for the next test, it must be something big as the lines run across her skin in all the places a surgeon's cruel blade would cut, but she does not fear for it will be over soon...

__

...in endless night she finds herself, sitting alone in that clearing under the full moon, believing her life was already over... Abi looks into her eyes as she sits by her side, processing the truth of the things she swallowed for the sake of peace... And to be wanted. Taking the hands of her other self she knows how this goes... A kiss, soft and tentatively reassuring, but without that other feeling, no lies to accept as she sees herself without shame, no monster lurks in the shadows but herself and she's there once again on wet tiles, in that moment of truth she had done what she had to do but remained tormented by the what ifs and deep down she knows as she views this lesser self with hungry eyes, an unbearable need drove her, her body a raw nerve as she acts, sharp teeth and nails ripping through fabric and flesh, sinking into her own throat. The brutality experienced in full as predator and prey, devoured and becoming full, accepting herself in full, vibrant and passionate flowing through her veins, warmth washing over her, consuming and clarifying this true version of herself. Abigail stands alone, a remade in the image of herself...

__

Her mind surfaces through the haze of fading dreams, laying flat on her back she doesn't know how long she's been staring up at the ceiling lights, how long she has been immobile... She scrunches up her face, skin pulling oddly over changed features, she brings her hands to run over her face, feeling the small horns protruding from her skull and razor sharp fangs in her mouth, stretching and testing her strength before rising to her feet, her surroundings unfamiliar yet deceptively mundane, the facade of a normal room but the scent too sterile and devoid of life. A mirror covers one wall, created for observation, undoubtedly much more secure than her old cell. This new self gazes out from the reflective surface, the devil in her shape, thin pale scars running across her skin, wide red eyes, fangs and claws, horns poking through her dark hair... Her mouth reddened from a recent meal, feeling content if not for her captivity... But not forever.

Abi behaves herself, letting them believe she is a successful vampire, as they freely call her now, passing their tests and exceeding their expectations watching all the while for a crack she can slip through...

For months Abigail is akin to a rat running through obstacles to be studied and graded, her enhanced senses open her eyes, faceless they remain behind their gasmasks and hazard suits but a heartbeat doesn't lie, she observes them back... Something is coming and they aren't entirely certain of her survival.

__

Her final test begins in a large room, clumsily furnished to appear as a living room with cheap mismatched furniture, the scientists must know she can tell what they intend to unleash for no matter how much they scrub away the evidence the corruption remains, the scent of something much older and hungrier, Abi runs her hand over the wall, claw marks... Another vampire.

Her back is to him as he enters, his footsteps heavy on the hard floor, she steps away from the wall she takes in the sight of him, tall, lean, skin grey and eyes sunken, he looks rough... how long has he been here?

"Manny Sherman," he introduces with a devilish grin, showing his fangs, he bares the same markings as hers, a subject of the same experiments, "But you may know me as the Beast of Arkansas."

"Who?" She asks to his immediate annoyance, the smug look falling from his face. As he takes a step towards her she attempts to smooth over any insult. "I've never met another... Like me," she'd never called herself a vampire out loud although she knew it was the scientific classification, "You don't sound like you're from Arkansas."

She breathes a sigh of relief as that gets a chuckle from him, which is short lived as he grabs her wrist and tugs her towards the couch in the centre of the room, making her sit with him. "Don't they teach kids manners anymore? Usually the other person introduces themselves too." he berates her, releasing her to stretch his arms over the back of the couch, Abi looks at him, he looks half dead and rat like, she attempts to compose herself knowing that this is a test, there's no leaving this room until it's over. "Abigail, I've been here since the end of summer, how long have you...?"

"Long before you were even a thought, in 97 I slipped up with a nice girl," he puts his feet up on the table as he looks thoughtful before adding with a sly look, "Looked a little like you, you're a nice girl aren't you, Abigail?" she almost reflexively shifted away from him, which clearly amused him. He leans towards her. "in 2003 they gave me death for the murder of 13 women, 'officially'." She looks away, unable to escape her reflection in that damn mirror they use throughout the facility, hating how obvious her discomfort is, why couldn't they be 'no reflection' vampires? She wraps her arms around herself trying to appear more casual then afraid.

"Were you a vampire back then? I mean if you needed the blood..." She tries to rationalise but he laughs like that's the biggest joke he'd ever heard, he puts his feet back on the ground and leans closer with his hands on his knees. "That would make it so much better wouldn't it? After all, wild beasts can't be blamed for the things they do," he shifts closer, his tone more serious, "Save the moral posturing, you're a killer too, I can see that-"

"I'm not- I didn't! It was self defence." Manny put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "You live like this as long as I have you pick up a thing or two, you still got the scent of the last punk to stomp on your heart, before you put him down like a dog that is-"

"I didn't kill him, he survived..." she looks down at her hands in her lap, replay that moment over, seeing clear as day. "I shot him right as he transformed into this... Grotesque monster, it was enough to drive him off and I never saw him again." She looks up at him, surprised at how close his face is as he squeezes her shoulder. "Deep down you're glad that guy was a monster, so you can ignore the guilt of taking a life, but you did mean to take a life and if you could justify it once you can justify it again."

"What does it matter in here?" Abi attempts to evade the topic, expressing frustration over their situation, his hands shifted to run through her hair as she desperately looks for a way to salvage something positive from the experience. "Have you ever tried to escape?" she whispers in the hope that the scientists, damn them, wouldn't be able to pick up her words. "The world has changed a lot since the late 90s... Maybe we could help each other out?" Manny's hand moves to the back of her neck, through his intense grin she can see the judgement in his eyes. "You think you're smart, Huh?" his grasp preventing her from moving away. "Just bat your lashes and act like you won't run for the hills the second you're out of here... I'm sure you expect me to do ALL the killing too? Then you can continue pretending you're not a monster." She put her hands on his chest firmly. "Please, I'm not-"

She gasps as he yanks her forward sinking his fangs into her shoulder, pushing her down in the process, her arms trapped between them. It doesn't hurt like being bitten before had but the terror is suffocating. He releases her shoulder as she drove her clawed fingers hard into his stomach, quickly pushing her off the couch. She scrambles to her feet, putting the couch between them, he looks down at the damage, shock quickly replaced with a devilish grin, her blood dripping from his mouth. "We're both vampires, you gain nothing from this." she tries desperately to appeal to him as she backs up further as he swiftly steps around the couch.

"But I need the blood, don't I, Abigail... That's what you think?" He pushes her hard against the wall, mocking her earlier attempt to rationalise his behaviour. "Just wild animals acting on instinct," Manny wraps a hand around her throat, lifting her just above his eye level as she's pinned to the wall, her feet dangling off the ground. Kicking. Clawing at his wrist. "There's something different about you, what is this?" He licks her blood from his lip, the gears turning in his mind that the lab may have progressed in their experimentation-

She attempts to yells out as his claws impale her stomach, burying his talon like fingers deep into her flesh, grip on her throat tightening. Hot blood flows freely from her, the scent overpowering in the small room as he tears through her. Soaking through cloth and flesh. Running all the way down to drip, drop by drop, to the floor at his feet.

He grins, blurry in her vision as she slumps forward, horns brushing over horns as something stirs in the back of her mind. Flashes, sparks of raw nerves... He presses his horns back into hers, solidifying that connection and she was back in that place... A man chases a woman through the woods, flesh and hair bloody and again and again, she sees him and her, parts of them intersperse. For so long had he been here, the very first experiment, undefeated he lives for this. She sees herself as he sees her, as she is. The perfect victim. An unexpected threat. Her mind lain bare to him and his to her.

She struggles for purchase, for something to cling to pushing through their psyche. Claws catching and tearing at his gnarled face before he throws her across the room, tumbling over the couch. The table breaks beneath her, mirror shattered behind. He stalks towards her, shoving the couch out of the way. "That's the boy you were crying over?" He laughs despite the anger in his eyes, "Your worthless friends didn't give a damn about you, they threw you away the second you stopped amusing them." He taunts. "Not. Even. Human."

Abi grasps for a broken table leg, feeling like she had back then but this time she has blood on her hands, under her nails, she can't resist the urge to taste, her fingers in her mouth, Feeling stronger than she knew. "That's right, show me who you are, Abigail." Staggering to her feet she swings the hefty wood at his head. Splintering sharply as it catches his horns, ducking as he lunges she plunges the wood deep into his thigh. Pulling it out with great effort, the floor a mess of debris and slick with blood. Striking again at his clawed stomach, tearing deeper. There is nothing but survival. The wood breaks off in the wound, he rips out a fist full of her hair before a terrible sound screams out-

An ear splittingly loud screech of painful noise assaulted her senses like the one that kept them safe during that summer night. Manny felt it too, falling to his knees in agony. They're of no value if they both die, Abi pushes through, taking up more of the debris, pushing herself to her feet, putting a hand out to steady herself, feeling the exposed wall behind the shattered glass. Opportunity. She desperately shatters the glass. Tearing at anything she can get her hands on. Her rage matching her pain as she rips fixtures off the wall, rips up previously hidden wires, until... Silence.

The noise subsided the power cut and the room is in total darkness. Her red eyes scan as Manny twitches and recovers but she can't waste this chance. She pulls at the door, the electronic locks disengaged she pulls it open and throws herself through, running in the darkness she navigates the places she knows, taking advantage of the resulting chaos. Screams echo behind her, she's not the only one making a run for it, maybe it's Manny, maybe it's some other experiment but she's grateful for the distraction, the smell of human blood fills the narrow halls, gunfire sounds in the distance. She pushed into a vent, crawling through a maze of tight metal tunnels, seeking the scent of fresh air. Hours pass unaware of the extent of the chaos, happening in the lab...

The smell of fresh cool air and distant smoke greets her as she kicks out an external vent, waiting before she steps out into the night. She presses herself to the building as a large bat like creature flies overhead, not daring to breathe until it disappears into the night. Abi carefully slides down into a shallow riverbed, flowing away from the facility. The harsh glow of the now burning lab casting strange shadows through the dense greenery surrounding the building, she keeps moving until she falls to her knees in a quiet clearing, her stomach grotesquely wounded, on the verge of spilling her guts she tries to catch her breath, licking the blood from her hands. Dulling the pain a little-

Movement catches her attention. He's here. "What was that you were saying? You and me helping each other out?" Manny smugly steps out in front of her, kneeling down, he looks far rougher than he had, she lifts her head unable to hide what she was doing, unable to respond from the damage he'd inflicted on her throat. "This is what we are." He takes her wrist, biting into it. He teaches her this lesson as he feeds, the cannibalistic act healing, he pulls her close again, unwilling to lose his easy meal. It fills her with rage, that he thinks he can use her like that, that he thinks he can look into her mind, that he can act like she didn't see into his. How dare he.

She throws her head back, striking his chin, horns tearing through his throat in the process. His blood flows over her as she pushes forward, sinking her fangs into the open wound, blind to everything else she drinks and drinks until she is whole and he is still... She hadn't factored her horns in her attempt, hadn't intended to tear into him like that and maybe she should be horrified by taking his life but she wasn't. Even if he had intended some twisted little vampire team up and things were different away from the lab she still couldn't regret it. She takes one last look, the things she could have learnt weren't worth the price, even now his empty eyes taunt her with the mark he'd left upon her, the tangled mess of memories clear in her mind. She is herself... only herself, but her eyes are wide open to so much more...

__

(current day)

She is free, she is alive... She is alone. Abi adjusts to the world around her, filled with noise and colour she could not conceptualise. She sifts through the memories, writing them down and sorting through what is hers, his and creations of her long captivity, they bleed and blur at the edges, 70 years extra knowledge fills her mind to over flowing, but it's not all bad, she learns many things from her stolen experiences, where vampires came from, the things she could do, how to blend in and to survive in the wild...

The first time she killed a human she was already desensitised, decades of violence lingers in her psyche but never had she taken from those undeserving. Often her prey stalks her, offering themselves unaware of her nature and seeing only the past self. Just a girl, naive enough to hitchhike all on her own...

Abi sits, wearing a warm coat although she does not feel the cold, her horns poke through her hat, easily taken as an intentional design choice, red lenses distract from the colour of her eyes, her fangs, although front and centre, weren't too big if she didn't call attention to them. She sits outside a roadside diner shortly after dark, taking in the sounds and scent of humanity as she draws a memory from a sunlit morning before her time, she could almost feel the warmth on her skin as she sketches an old labrador resting in the morning sunshine as an older man fails at imparting wisdom despite his best efforts. A slither of humanity restored through the creative process... He was an artist too and it was hard to disagree when she could feel what he felt in recollection.

"Abi?" A nostalgic scent, a familiar voice, the elevated pulse, she dares not to hope but as she looks... "It's actually- god you look... I can't believe-" Jacob stops as she stands, packing away her things in her bag, he doesn't miss what's right in front of him, not after what they'd been through all those years ago. He glances around at the quiet surroundings, his heart speaks of nervous hope, she supposes it would be less frightening if she spoke... "Jacob, what are you doing out in the middle of nowhere?" She smiles, trying not to expose her fangs too much, "I thought you'd be halfway across the country playing..." she struggles to recall which sport but he nervously chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, no... Things haven't exactly panned out that way, no I-" he points to a car across the lot, "You need a ride anywhere or?"

She nods, following him, hardly believing it. Is he human? He smells human. He puts her stuff in the back and the second they're shut in he just stares, understandably. "Everyone said you were dead, god I- what happened to you?" she slowly removes her sunglasses and places them atop her horns, giving him a moment to process her red eyes, a heavy feeling settles inside her. "There are worse secrets than finding out your boss is a werewolf."

"How much worse?" He asks cautiously, she looks at herself in the rear view mirror, "It's a long story," she warns as he offers. "I live around a half hour away from here, maybe you could... stay- if you don't have other plans."

Her eyes well up with tears, she hadn't realised she was still capable of producing, he immediately puts a hand on her shoulder as she just nods along with the suggestion, she wipes her hands over her face as he pulls onto the road. For what feels like forever they don't speak as they process this strange reunion, she wants to ask about him, about the others but, she knows that she owes her own expectations, even if it goes against every survival instinct she's acquired...

"I was never released after... After I was made like this, I fought for my freedom," she starts cautiously, "This is who I am now, as if werewolves weren't enough, someone made me this way... The justification was that my previous infection would positively impact the end results of their experiment." He nods along, looking concerned with his eyes on the road. "So... the government turned you into a vampire?"

"I know it sounds like some nutty conspiracy theory, I would have thought so if I hadn't lived it." She looks at him trying to gauge his reaction to her presence. He smiles bitter sweetly. "I'm in no position to judge, not after what we saw... God I just can't believe you're alive... Or as alive as a vampire can be?"

"I'm not that type of vampire, I'm not undead in the literal sense," she explains, sensing his relief but still unsure of how much she should spill, "So... If not college, what have been doing, exactly?" He turns down a narrow dirt road. "Farm work, really, after everything I wasn't- I needed time and just like that I blew my one shot at going to school debt free on athletic scholarships," She looks down the long path ahead as he continues, shame evident in his voice. "The plan was to work on my great aunt's property until I sort myself out and then maybe community college, maybe trade school."

"Jacob, when your relatives see me..." She starts to broach the obvious. "It's not like we're teens, I'm allowed to have guests-" He stops short realising what she meant. "Right, my place is at the far end of the property... We'll figure it out, just, try not to scare the sheep." He says with genuine concern for the animals, it's endearing how he cares for them... And how he so easily accepts that she's still herself. She has to fight back tears again as he gets out to open the gate, she's considered going back to her family but she can't let them see her like this... It wouldn't be fair to them.

As they finish the drive up to the house something becomes clearer to her in this small space, although entirely human, Jacob's scent carries the slightest undertone of wolf's blood, it's barely perceptible even to her but the curse left it's mark and while it's not what he planned he's still doing something... Something more than living like an animal in the woods. "There's some large crates in the shed if you need 'coffin time' during the day?" Abi shakes her head, nearly laughing at the suggestion as the get inside. "No that's fine, I only really hide through the day so people don't look too close at my horns."

"Chrissake!? ...those are real?" He sits her bag on the couch, taking a minute to process this information, "I'm sorry, I just- god I thought they were part of the hat... I guess that's on purpose, huh?" He laughs at himself sitting down with his head in his hands, she sits next to him taking off her hat for him to see, he reflexively reaches out but stops himself... Why does he seem l so guilty? "It's okay." Abi allows him to continue, her eyes flutter shut as the back of his hand brushes her cheek, his touch human and warm... She looks at him as he runs his finger tips over her smooth horns, his heart rate picking up as he processes it all, she has to stop herself from leaning in as he pulls his hand away. "God... I'm so sorry," He say in a quiet pained voice, "It's all my fault."

"Everything is my fault." Abi tentatively touches his shoulder getting him to look at her. "Jacob? ...tell me." Silence. His heart races, he's nervous, more so than when he realised what she is, he takes a deep breath, looking at her seriously. "Everything that happened that night, after the van... died, it's my fault, I just wanted one more day so I- I sabotaged the van and then everything went so wrong," Abi stares at him, her heart breaks that he thinks he's responsible for everything that happened after that, they may as well blame the decision to take the job at all, lord knows she did so countless times, "...the next morning I told Emma what I'd done and we thought you were dead- we were told you were dead, she was furious, she blamed me and when she told the others what I did..."

Abi is speechless, is it any wonder he hid out here for all these years? She took his hand gently and spoke carefully. "I'm still here, I'm alive even if I'm... Different." He takes his hand back, rolling up his sleeve, holding his arm out. "It's the least I can offer, you can stay in the other room if you have no where else to go and you don't have to starve, I'm willing."

Abi is torn, his guilt kills her, that he believes he needs to suffer for it... But the offer itself? The desire for it... The temptation is palpable, she knows it's possible to feed off a human without killing them, she knows she's not infectious but... Every single one got what they deserved, the inherited memory helped her understand the mind of the predators she preys upon... If she gives in. "I don't want to hurt you."

He looks dumbfounded by her answer, he laughs in disbelief, shaking his head before looking away. "Nick punched me right in the mouth when he found out," he smiles through the painful memories, "he just wasn't the same after that, I think he went back to Australia... Kaitlyn is the only one who still talks to me," He's quite for a moment before standing up and picking up her bag awkwardly, he'd expected her to hate him. "Let's get you settled."

__

For the first time in years she rests easy, feeling safe... and human... And maybe?

She opens her eyes as he knocks on the door, when she answers the look on his face tells her everything his heart had already exposed... He wants to go through with it, not just out of guilt but... "Abi, I... I want to take care of you." She doesn't speak, taking him by the hands and leading him to sit on the edge of the bed, when he offers his wrist to her she takes it this time, leaning in with a delicate hold before her fangs sink into his flesh, hearing him stifle the pained groan as he's bit, he pulls her close as she feeds, his fingers in her hair grounding as she focuses on staying in control... 'this is what we are' her mind replays what she'd been taught of her inherent brutality, but that's not who she is, even with all his memories, the sum total of Manny Sherman's experience... She can almost understand him but she won't be like that, he won't make her, the things she's been through won't make her...

She stops before any real damage can be done to Jacob, looking up at him he runs a finger over the edge of her mouth to wipe a small drop of blood, eyes soft and full of gratitude for the simple fact that she's alive... They aren't alone anymore.

__

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @ctrvpani @tinynightmarewoman

@eframschweigersskincells @kindheartedgummybears @aydeenchan

[tinynightmarewoman]

Manny Sherman is the human equivalent of old string cheese...

no I will not elaborate

[blubary]

if you feel so inclined to draw evil characters than I'd love to see your take on Manny Sherman given his appearance is somewhat open to interpretation(he gotta be tho moldy lol) and if not I'll take your most confused looking Junior, that boy is just there having a time of it 😂

I honestly like how it turned out, which is crazy cuz this is the first time I've drawn him lol!

And ofc confused Junior!! (he looks more scared than intended but I think it fits lol)

[kindheartedgummybears]

OKAY OKAY I GET IT YALL WANT ME TO SPAM SOME DEVIL IN STUFF SO HERE!!

@pathfinderofandromeda @lazylesbianbear @blubary HAVE A DEVIL IN ME SPAM!!!

[qusok]

Okay, so I just randomly decided to count the amount of times I've drawn each TDiM character, including silly sketches and unfinished pieces.... here it goes Sherman: 2 Mark: 3 Du'Met: 5 Kate: 5 Charlie: 7 Jamie: 17 Erin: 30 30 Erins is..... something

[a-artist-a]

[herabora]

The portrait of Sherman rolled on the drawing exam as a sketch, I think this is a success

Портер Шермана прокатил на экзамене по рисунку как набросок, это успех я считаю

[mybrainrotforreal]

Happy birtday, Sherman!

Damn, I've been hyperfixating on Du'lie for more than a year. Really love this shippers and the communty we make. Cheers!

Anyway, this is what I made during the New year's eve.

"To love someone means to see them as God intended them." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

[108garys]

Got me thinking about one of my various hyper specific AUs, in which the sole survivor turned sunshine pyro and the murder artist that doesn't judge her for the arson are partners in crime and delusion

Charlie's holiday is ruined and he only lives due to looking like someone... This surely won't impact his life in the long run in any significant way...

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @ctrvpani @aydeenchan @tinynightmarewoman Should I post this in the tags? 😂

[redran6er]

Have a Manny Christmas! 🎅🎄✨

[108garys]

Obliterated by a child

I kept forgetting to post this Manny Sherman drawing I did in October(did not know which shot was best so have both), was chilling with the nibblings and thus drawing with what was on hand and while they were very impressed, I must say, pack it up Beast of Arkansas haters because nothing anyone can say about this man will ever compare to me being genuinely asked if he's from paw patrol, it was all:

😊: "I don't think I know that character"

Me: "you wouldn't"(not gonna contextualize this obviously)

😊: "hmm, is he from paw patrol?"

Me: "nah he's from something else, what did you draw?"(it was a sick volcano by the way)

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @ctrvpani @tinynightmarewoman

@aydeenchan @eframschweigersskincells @kindheartedgummybears @conra

Idk it feels very on brand lol

[taylorshope]

The Sherman tapes make me so uncomfortable what the fuck

There's a reason they called that man the Beast

[subsidystadium]

The Kansas City Royals have managed to confuse local leaders, annoy fans & baffle local media....in their search for a new ballpark

17 years ago, Kansas City spent $250 million dollars in taxpayer money to update Kauffman Stadium, the ballpark for the Kansas City Royals.  In exchange for getting this money 17 years ago, the team extended the ballpark lease until 2031. Given that Kauffman Stadium is one of the oldest in Major League Baseball (MLB), it wasn’t a surprise to see the Royals announce last year that they were…

[disneytva]

Disney Branded Television Sets PRIMOS Premiere For July 25th As Part Of Disney Channel Epic Mid-Summer

Oigan Primos! from the talented people who brought you Big City Greens comes a new meaning for BEST SUMMER EVER. ☀️🌈🖍️📔

Disney Branded Television has set the series premiere for Primos with a two-episode premiere July 25 at 8:00 p.m. Pacific on Disney Channel (with two new episodes airing every Saturday starting July 27). An initial batch of episodes will be available to stream on Disney+ starting July 26.

“Primos” follows Tater Ramirez Humphrey, an imaginative free spirit bursting with creative energy who is ready to spend the summer of her 10th birthday sorting out her goals and dreams. But her plans are derailed when she learns that her mother has invited all 12 of her primos — cousins — to spend the summer at their home and share her room.

Joining the talented Primos guest cast includes

Gabriel Iglesias (Jorge R. Gutierrez "I-Chihuahua") as Tio Gustavo, Sarah Sherman (Anaapurna Animation's "Nimona) as Carmela, Cheech Marin (Pixar Animation Studios "Coco") as Abuelo Pop, Sherry Cola (Pixar Animation Studios "Turning Red") as Ms. Mahoney, Bill as Kyle MacLachlan, Jaime Jarrín (Los Angeles Dodgers) as Día de la Cultura Announcer and Xolo Maridueña (DC Studios "Blue Beetle" Marvel "Moon Girl And Devil Dinosaur").

Primos songs are GRAMMY nominated composers Alana Da Fonseca and Bobby Studley (Tim Burton's "Wednesday", Disney Channel Original Movies "Teen Beach Movie" franchise). Jim Lang (Nickelodeon Animation Studios "Hey Arnold" franchise) serves as score composer, Hey Arnold! creator Craig Barlett does additional guest clay animation.

Karla Sakas Shropshire (Nickelodeon Animation Studios "The Loud House", Disney Television Animation "Katz Café") serves as story editor.

Inspired by growing up in Fontana and Riverside with the chicano culture Primos has gotten praise by fellow industry members such as Jorge R. Gutierrez (Nickelodeon "El Tigre: The Adventures of Manny Rivera", 20th Century Animation "The Book of Life", Netflix Animation "Maya And The Three"), Phil Lord (MTV Animation "Clone High", Sony Pictures Animation "Cloudy For A Change Of Meatballs" franchise,"Spiderman In To The Spiderverse" franchise), Sofiá Alexander (Crunchyroll Originals "Onyx Equinox", Disney "Phineas And Ferb"), Guillermo Del Toro (Dreamworks Animation "Rise of The Guardians", "How To Train Your Dragon 2" "Tales of Arcadia" ,20th Century Animation "The Book Of Life", Netflix Animation "Guillermo del Toro's Pinnochio"), Miguel Puga (Nickelodeon Animation Studios "The Casagrandes", DC Studios & Warner Bros Animation "Blue Beetle The Series" ), Megan Nicole Dong (Netflix Animation "Centaurworld", Locksmith Animation "Bad Fairies" ) and more.

PRIMOS will be used by Disney TVA Multiplatform with their short series "CHIBI TINY TALES", "THEME SONG TAKEOVER", "BROKEN KARAOKE" & "HOW NOT TO DRAW" , Tater and The Ramirez Family will set to appear on CHIBIVERSE Season 2.

Additionaly a Primos soundtrack by Walt Disney Records is set to debut July 26th on digital music platforms

PRIMOS joins Moon Girl And Devil Dinosaur,Kiff, Big City Greens,Amphibia,The Ghost and Molly McGee, Hamster & Gretel and Hailey's On It! on getting official albums.

[aydeenchan]

"...not with the way he curves over your back, smearing sweat and slick and wouldn’t that be a sight.."

🥵

The Quiet Game. Hector Munday x Reader. Noncon, coercion, exhibition kink, naked top clothed bottom, all around poor life choices (but this is smut so we do what we want). Mr. Munday is the strong, silent type. He is inventively cruel and yet. And yet he has needs like any man, even if his methods of satisfying them are more than unorthodox. And now that he has you, well, you’d better keep quiet. Unless you want everyone to hear.

———

You’re in his web now, you unlucky little fly, and now you play his game. Shiver here in the chill of his director’s suite and know that every ripple of fear across your skin only fuels his hunger.

Hush, now. Don’t make a sound. Match him breath for breath and maybe you’ll get out of this alive. Be still. Let him bend you down and spread your legs apart; let him cut and tear until you’re bare to him, clothing in shreds and ass prickling gooseflesh in this cold room. All the truly important parts of the console are switched off; there’s just an unblinking red light in front of your nose.

Is that— yeah. Yeah, that’s a mic and it is hot and that’s the game: take it quietly or every moan and whimper’s gonna be broadcast throughout the house. Bite your tongue bloody— or don’t. He doesn’t care. And which would be worse: your companions thinking all your little sounds are from some cruel torture, or them knowing just how gone with need you are? How could you explain the war that rages between mind and body, between the chill of fear and the thick wet heat of anticipation?

Oh, you pathetic little thing. So weak, so lost. He doesn’t even need that knife to keep you here, although it’s sharp and firmly in his grip, shining silvery right where you can see it. Point being, it’s a threat but it’s nothing against solid warm flesh and the soft whisper of cambric and wool as he digs the fingers of his free hand into the meat of your ass. It’s a dull bruising ache, leaving its echoes deep in your flesh when he flexes his fingers to get a better grip. Yeah, you like that, enough to push back as best you can into the feeling. You want it, yeah? Bad enough to beg for it?

Tch.

Giving up so easily? He isn’t even in you yet but anticipation is a bitch. And wouldn’t you know it, but he feels it too: he shifts closer and oh, he is hard— all his bulk is just a solid wall to cage you here, as his cock burns hot like a brand even through his trousers. If he ever smiles at all, if there is anything within him beyond implacable grim fate, surely something of it must be present here, teased out by the interplay of wanting and taking. If you’re lucky— if you make it through this to emerge aching and sticky in the predawn gloom— you’ll see what he looks like when he slips enough to let his human side show, and won’t that be a treat. So are you gonna play the game, sweet thing?

Shame might be one side of the coin, but the other side is animal need. It’s instinct: the kind of bone-deep wanting that’s got you biting your lips bloody to stop yourself from gritting out just fucking give it to me already. And yeah, he’s gonna fuck you raw; how better to conquer you completely than to bury his seed as deep as he can get. There’s the scratch of wool over your ass when he opens his flies just far enough to take himself in hand. Can you picture it? The way he stands silent, dressed like a man out of time, palming his cock for just a moment before he lines himself up and pushes in deep? Is he thick? Long? Does he know the angle that’ll tear your last bit of resolve to shreds? Oh, honey. This isn’t his first time around.

Quiet that mind of yours. Don’t try to hold those thoughts; let them blow away like smoke until all that’s left is pure sensation. Were you an animal, your entire life would be like this: fleeing, fucking, living with no thought to a future so uncertain it might as well not exist, each successive moment belonging only to itself.

There, can you feel that? The brush of his cock against you, slipping through your slick: one thrust, two, and he’s home. There’s no mercy in the way he shoves himself in you to the root, crushing you down against buttons and dials, hard enough that if tomorrow comes it’ll find you brushing fingertips over a pattern of aches in the shape of the console. Sweetheart, can you feel it? He may be cold behind the mask but he still breathes, still shudders with the pleasure of conquest, still exhales a hot wet ah into your ear. And then he moves. He is greedy, selfish; he takes and takes and takes but he’s crushing you down against the console just so and listen. Listen. If you think he doesn’t know what that does to you— if you think he doesn’t mean to hold you here in such a way that the very motion of your body sends lightning through your veins— then you’re a fool.

I can’t. I can’t. Please. It’s too much; you can’t possibly keep quiet any longer, not with the way he curves over your back, smearing sweat and slick and wouldn’t that be a sight: his vest and trousers rumpled, shirttails half-freed, with your shining wet need stained all across his front. The image bites its way into your core and wouldn’t you know it but he’s just a little more urgent, a little more ferocious when he feels the ripple of your walls around him. I— I need—

What do you need? Release, certainly, but your mind is unwinding and all your thoughts spiral out into nothingness. The only thing left is pure sensation: heat, desperate breaths, the chorus of your nerves that screams too much, too much, let me— let me— make me come.

Please. It’s soft, nearly inaudible, breathed out with the wispy unh of a body with no more room for air. It’s not a plea to let you go, but to give you more, and for a moment he is caught off-guard. This wasn’t in the plan.

His hand over your mouth, covering at first and then adjusting. Fingers dragging down, past your lips to rest heavy on your tongue, his hand bridle and bit and gag at once. He tastes of leather and salt and a whisper of blood. The razor’s disappeared somewhere but it doesn’t matter; all your senses now belong to him. The game he’s playing is distant, unimportant; you are filled with him from end to end and with each stroke he digs thick fingers into your mouth, holding your jaw open wide. Like this he pulls you back hard onto his cock, leaving spit and bruises at the corners of your lips. This is mercy.

This is torture, and it is sweet.

You can’t fight what’s coming, so let it happen. Let that lightning work its way up from your toes to curl brightly in your center. Relinquish yourself unto him; he has your mind already and now he will possess the undoing of your flesh as well. Feel the delicate balance between pleasure and pain, and know that neither exists alone but is only a mirror of the other.

Collect yourself. Nevermind the discomfort of your jaw relaxing back into place, or the gooseflesh that prickles your skin when he no longer rests heavy at your back. Breathe for a moment. You did so very well. And now the door is open, leading out to the warrens between the walls. He stands straight-spined and still at the console, armored with mask and apron to conceal any evidence of sin, but now he cannot hide how his blood pulses hot beneath the surface.

And now you have a choice: you can run shaky-legged and stumbling back to your companions and retake your place as quarry in the hunt. You can dive for the razor that’s on the floor just out of reach, and hope that you’re faster than he is. Each is expected. Understandable. Or you can turn against all reason and look him in the eye. You can tell him the least you could do next time is get me a blanket, and mark the way he tilts his head with interest. The choice is yours.