#this ok?

[darkhippiedream]

But I wan’t your bush 😇

[lord-overlips]

Smokey-

"Ah, sorry 'bout that, Lips! I can get a cloth and clean that up. I got a little--"

He pauses. Ah, he thinks he sees what Overlord might be going for. If this is all it took, maybe he should try doing his makeup more often, he thought, his doorwings fluttering as he's settled onto Overlord's lap.

Even if he is anticipating the first smack, it's hard not to let out a sharp beep as Overlord's servo comes down. Primus, it's hard not to forget how strong Overlord can be, becoming very aware of how easily Overlord could dent his aft, if he wanted to.

"Lips-- I'm sorry, I'll fix you up and everything, really! It's not that bad, is it?"

The second smack earns him a proper yelp, as Smokescreen's servos squeeze Overlord's thigh. Overlord might also notice Smokescreen's frame starting to heat up with the repeated slaps.

. . .

Those lovely little doorwings... he did so enjoy teasing them in the past. He gave that aft a brief respite, the tip of one doorwing caught between his digits and given a little tweak now, the touch bordering on painful but stopping just short.

"You're sorry...." He echoed. "Really now... sorry doesn't quite cut it though... does it, Smokey?" He grinned, enjoying himself. It was impossible to miss how much Smokescreen was enjoying this too!

"Such a naughty bot..." He delivered another harsh slap, careful not to actually damage that pretty plating. A few scuffs would polish out in not time.

"You need to be properly punished or just how will you ever learn?"

Another swat, then another, Overlord pausing every so often to gently tease over that battered plating, thick digits stroking tenderly over the abused and increasinly heated metal.

"Feel free to beg. You know I enjoy it. I might consider being lenient on you then." Despite his words, Overlord did give the bot some reprieve, wanting him to enjoy this. He stroked over Smokescreen's doorwings gently, thick digits massaging the base, Overlord not letting him off too easily though, servo landing again with a solid smack every so often.

@ask-smokescreen

[heckinconfusedparade]

How do you hcs tails coming up with the idea for the miles multiplier?

Well, when Tails learned that there was danger coming for Sonic, he knew he had to help. That’s how I believe the Miles Electric was made. The one movie Tails has seems to be an earlier version than he uses in games, or they decided to redesign it.

Anyway, there’s a lot of things the Miles Electric can do. It’s like a regular computer, but much better. From what I’ve seen, this edition of the device can scan and detect signals. As well as scan other living beings.

This is where the Miles Multiplier comes in! Tails decided that in addition to his weapons, it would be smart to have a form of distraction. He’s been watching Sonic for a long time, and I think he saw how his speed enabled him to be in multiple places at once. Tails himself is nowhere near speedy enough to do that. So he decided to take that idea and copy it with his own little touch.

When you see multiples at once, you get confused right? Sonic doesn’t do that in combat, but it’s still a useful element. Tails knew that with Knuckles, Sonic was likely outmatched with strength. Sonic can only take so many punches.

So then Tails thought: If ya can’t beat ‘em, confuse em! With all this in mind, he created the Miles Multiplier. A hologram device that can make copies of himself and anyone else. Though they’re weak, they can serve as a distraction for a while.

He was so proud of himself. He just built one of his greatest inventions yet!

And it’s debut? An adorable dance battle. I love that scene.

[in-my-soul-arch]

@labyriinths​ | liked the call

“Done? --Mexican. Alien. It’s not the same, Ortecho.” Hadn’t she been the one testing Max a while back? Getting disliked for one’s descent and being in danger of getting deported wasn’t fun, but at least their discovery wouldn’t lead to anyone getting dissected. 

[fawley-en-face]

An Opportune Defenestration

Since Mal had moved in, Henry had given up, more and more, little pieces of Camilla. His concession to her now was simply that the heeled boots he wore with his black ensemble were baby blue, and he’d still refused to redecorate her home in any way. He’d also been going out more, and his gradual reentry into society had led him here. To a wealthy wizarding shopping district, desperately trying to get Alaric Avery to buy something that did not look like a circulation-killing button-up.

It was growth. It was also a way to take his mind off the past few weeks- a pastel baseball bat, screaming, a relapse, satisfaction-

“Have you ever considered something that doesn’t have buttons?” he asked, flipping through a rack of muted tunics. He plucked a stormy grey one and held it up, eyes flicking from it to Alaric. “This one would bring out your eyes. Also it wouldn’t strangle you. And it’s easy to get off.”

@pureavery

[thebaileyshaw]

Human Interaction 102

How to Meet Men. How to Meet women. Flirting for Fun. The Modern Wix’s Guide to Sex and Love. The Art of the Affair.

Bailey couldn’t take this shop seriously any more. The titles of the books in this section were bad enough, but she’d dared to flip through a few and they were practically useless. She wasn’t looking for a partner, she didn’t want to sleep around- for Merlin’s sake, she’d never even been kissed- and she wasn’t trying to become some maneating femme fatale. She just wanted to understand why she kept getting distracted by stupid things, and why the simplest of words seemed to have such a strong affect on people.

When she heard movement in the aisle she glanced up, ready to make a hasty retreat; this place wasn’t worth her time anyway, and she didn’t want to have to deal with someone else seriously contemplating getting life advice here. 

@advance-emmeline​

[nicholas-chastain]

The Long Con

Nic never bothered with helmets. A jacket sometimes to keep off the wind, but a helmet would make things too safe, too boring, too predictable. Which is why his hair was more than a bit of a windswept mess when he finally swung off his bike in front of Caleb Goldstein’s studio. On his way up the steps he couldn’t help but twitch his wand in his coat pocket and rearrange the metal numbers outside the door, then he let himself in. 

“How is my masterpiece?” he called, swinging around the nearest corner until he found his artist. He’d taken off his jacket, and the shirt he wore was rolled up to just below his elbows, revealing the elaborate fox tattoo on his left forearm, and the enchanted empty skin on his other (one couldn’t just walk around with the Dark Mark on display; Nic had spent enough time in jail).

@calebgoldstein​