#Pleading Intellect

[faelingdraws]

a PSA about the chatlog iterators and how you can use them in fanon content

[moonsofmachinery]

Hallmark Sanctity, My little iterator OC! They're a Gen 2 Iterator from the Roaring Skies Local Group. They go by Wistful Tuning Flowers and tend to spend most, if not all, of their time in anon Sliverist group chats. They kind of have a fear of committing to any personality, so they use anon group chats to flesh out someone they would... 'want to be', devoid of any problems or issues. Basically uh, they're a little messed up. Doodles below!

Pleading Intellect is an Anon Pseudonym but I general call them that because its what they're most known by. In my own headcanons, though, they're known as Half Wit Wonders. I just thought it sounded cool and kind of fits their attitude and curiosity in the few broadcasts we do see. Hallmark is also friends with Grey Winds. Hallmark tends to view Grey winds as the perfect image of 'Calm' and 'Responsible' they think they are while forgetting that Grey Winds does have flaws as well. They do eventually come to terms with that fact and have a better, truer friendship with them because of that. Which is why they make a messanger (With Pleading's help) to go and attempt to contact Winds when they suddenly go offline.

Hallmark is a character in my fic which I have not posted, and probably will not post for a good while. Its kind of a passion project involving ocs mixed with canon and its very near and dear to me. I dont know if anyone will like it, but I will eventually post it. If you're interested, maybe send me an ask :]

[midnight-scugs]

Just a little height chart reference thing here for the hell of it + some basic design stuff + heavy iterator generation lore. Warning; this gets LONG, so the rest after the height chart is under the cut. Massive lore dump inside, be prepared.

The height order of the main iterators mentioned in this AU, from tallest to shortest, is Wind > Suns > Moon > Pebbles > Sig > UI.

UI is pretty much around as short as iterators get, Suns is around as tall as normal iterators get. For comparison; UI pretty much comes up to around mid chest height on Suns.

Wind is a special case and is one of the tallest select few because they're a patriarch. For another comparison, Suns comes up to their shoulder at best. The tallest patriarch however, and iterator as a whole, is Omen; they're at least a solid head taller than Wind.

Patriarchs, who mark the beginning of the first generation and the creation of iterators as a whole, are absolutely massive and are just generally quite bulky due to technological limitations so early in, making the progress towards a more streamlined design a later trait. They're built to last over to look good. There's more dramatic head shape variation in patriarchs than in other iterators. They tend to have dull main colors, often shades of gray, with bright markings.

Patriarchs are the centers of regional groups (multiple clusters of local groups forming a broader region), in charge of keeping watch of and keeping order in their regions. They're the ones who big issues are brought to, and their cities can pass laws that effect the entire region, although this level of involvement is rare.

Patriarch examples include:

Wandering Omen; they have a light gray puppet with green markings, a more blocky/squarish head shape, and short, straight gray antennae.

Chasing Wind/Grey Wind; they have a medium gray puppet with orange markings, a longer face (think that common Pebbles design trope type of head design), and long, mostly straight gray antennae.

Epoch of Clouds; they have a dark gray/nearly black puppet with light blue/cyan markings, a very round head shape, and gray antennae with a curled/curved shape starting about halfway to the tips.

First generation iterators are generally on the taller side and are rarely below where falls Pebbles in height, most being around the same height as Moon give or take a bit. After the time of creating the patriarchs, the rest of the iterators in this generation were generally designed with a very friendly appearance in mind, to help further increase public favor towards iterators. They often have a more rounded/"soft" looking build, although there are a few rare exceptions, and they typically have softer features and friendly looking design traits such as rounded or circular heads, vibrant or pastel color schemes, and big antennae. Not a lot of points and edges, lots of curves.

First generation iterators typically hold important roles in their local groups, and are usually the first sources younger iterators go to for guidance. Quite a few are group seniors; the heads of local group who act as leads of sorts, ranking directly below their patriarchs and reporting to them any issues that need greater interference than what they themselves have authority over. They are as vital to the functions of their local groups as patriarchs are to their regional groups.

First generation examples include:

Secluded Instinct; they have a light dusty blue puppet with yellow markings, a head shape similar to Moon (but a bit more tapered at the chin), and short, rounded dark gray antennae. They have a slightly slimmer build than a lot of first generation iterators, but still a bit rounded/"soft" looking. They're a local group senior under Omen.

Sliver of Straw; she has a dull cream puppet with darker cream markings, a round/circular head shape, and long, thin, straight antennae shaped similarly to thin rods. Her rather muted color scheme is notably somewhat rare for this stage in the generation. She has a similar build to Instinct. She's a local group senior under Epoch.

Looks to the Moon (we all know more or less how she looks); she has a turquoise(?) puppet with red markings, a rounded face shape, and somewhat rectangular light gray antennae. She has a more rounded/"soft" build that's typical of her generation. She's a local group senior under Wind.

Second generation iterators vary heavily in design overall, from height to build to colors to common traits. This was by far the longest generation, spanning at least 1000 kilocycles, and it shows in the sheer number and variety of iterators created during this time period. Quite a few of them have more unusual physical traits, as during this time the Ancients experimented with just about anything at least once. Technology was improving and changed heavily over the duration of this generation.

While iterators of this generation are typically no longer group seniors, early second generation iterators are also common sources of advice to turn to, and they may temporarily fill in for their seniors for certain tasks in the case of said senior being away, incapacitated, or otherwise temporarily occupied.

Second generation examples include:

No Significant Harassment; he has a green puppet with lighter green markings, a rounded face shape, and light gray antennae bases with no "proper" antennae. He has a very rounded, stocky build, more so than even a lot of first generator iterators such as Moon. He has a screen/LED type display for a face in order to make him more expressive; looking too closely or when his display is off can get creepy however, as what resembles pupils in the display are actually typical iterator eye cameras that are more visible due to the screen. He at one point filled in for Moon and acted as her replacement for a rather important project she couldn't supervise at the time.

Pleading Intellect; they have a pale gray puppet with orange markings, a slightly tapered head shaped (sort of a heart shaped face look), and long, mostly straight dark gray antennae. They have a medium to somewhat thin build.

Seven Red Suns; they have a light yellow puppet with red markings, a tapered head shape (their face more resembling a mask in a way than anything), and long, outwards pointing triangular dark gray antennae. They have a very thin, almost lanky build. They have quite a few odd traits. They have expressive antennae that are mobile sideways, unlike normal iterator antennae. They have very unusual eyes with colored "iris" lights in the usual black eye; the right is red and has an actual camera capable of zooming and taking pictures, the left is gold/yellow and actually has fairly poor vision due to only being intended to give them a proper field of vision and depth perception when not using their camera eye. They're also the last or one of the last few iterators in their generation, and they have some third generation level technology as a result.

Third generation iterators are usually on the shorter side, with most ranging in height from as short as Unparalleled Innocence to around as tall as No Significant Harassment. They're typically very slender, being quite sleek and streamlined in build, with a few sporadic models with a slightly bulkier build mixed in. Their colors vary heavily varied in range, with everything from muted monochromes to bright vibrant hues and anything in between. In a more canon leaning timeline this would be a very short generation, not even 100 kilocycles before ending in mass ascension, but mass ascension didn't happen here so it could theoretically last at least a good bit longer than that.

Third generation iterators have no real notable positions in the chain of command; they're simply made to iterate and get their tasks done while doing so. Unintentional built in flaws or outright oversights and careless design traits aren't uncommon in this generation, having started to pop up at the tail end of the second generation and becoming more common at this point.

Third generation examples include:

Five Pebbles (we know more or less how he's gonna look too); he has a pink puppet with yellow/gold markings, a longer face shape, and long, mostly straight gray antennae antennae. He has a thin, almost too skinny looking build. His appearance, especially head shape, is notably odd among iterators of his generation; this is this is because he was modeled after Wind, with intent to directly resemble them, and as a result he heavily looks like a smaller, more streamlined version of them with different colors, down to having the same forehead markings. This is also why he's the tallest in his generation.

Unparalleled Innocence; they have a white puppet with light teal markings, a rounded face shape, and two small to medium sized, gray inwards pointing triangular antennae on each antennae base. They have a sleek/slender build that's typical for their generation.

[pansear-doodles]

broadcast iterators tiem

[moon-down]

Real quick some iterators (and two scugs)

In order:

Sliver of Straw Five Pebbles Looks to the Moon (Ough I could of done her better) No Significant Harassment Seven Red Suns

(Page 2)

Wandering Omen Secluded Instinct Gazing Stars Epoch of Clouds (Took reference off of concept art)

(Page 3)

Pleading Intellect Unparalleled Innocence Grey/Chasing Wind

Flickering of A Bug (Sona) Looks to the Moon (she's slaying now!!!)

Below is an unknown scug and Rivulet (I needed to fill the space)

This took me way too long

[follerys-trash-blog]

decided to try my hand at designing the other iterators we hear about in the broadcasts/pearls that we never see

and then i made an iterator oc loll

[mabelcreature]

my designs for the new unseen downpour iterators :D

their names are so cool

[spookyforestcryptid]

Remember pleading intellect? Don't lie to me, you don't. He says like 1 word. anyway here's my design for him! Me and my friend like him because he has a dumb name, so yeah. Also he was the one that gave the ancients wormgrass hair. #realnofake

WAIT I MISSPELLED SWEAR OMG THIS WILL HAUNT ME FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE

[rwautimesamongrain]

More concept designs of the Iterators from my RW AU: Times among rain, a second change in-between karma flowers

Full colored sketch of:

Pleading Intellect (PI)

Looks to the Moon (LttM)

(PI design is inspired by books plus a bit of technology stylized patterns and details)

And Some IRL beta concepts/sketches of other Iterators and related:

Link ver:

[worriedvision]

He ignores you after an argument - Dr Ratio

Gender neutral reader, angst with an ending that can be viewed as happy. Dr Ratio shows his immaturity, and he only realises how close he is to losing you when Argenti makes an appearance.

--

"What do you mean, 'can you try to be more considerate'? If you cannot comprehend a genius' words, you are not worthy of my time!" Your boyfriend huffs, turning around to place his mask on.

He always did that when you had arguments, but the words that were paired with his actions were what worried you. You had really stepped in it, trying to tell him that you weren't finished with your sentence. You were getting frustrated that he wouldn't stop interrupting you and, sometimes, filling in the statements incorrectly. You ignored your frustration in the past, but it boiled into this argument you just had with him. You were doubtful that he would think about your feelings even after he calmed down, so you mentally prepared yourself for the silent treatment.

Days became weeks, and weeks became months. He still wasn't talking to you, and you were heartbroken. You dive yourself into your work, the astral express themselves commissioning you because of Dr Ratio's words of praise of your intellect. Swallowing the temptation to explain he was likely exaggerating to help you with getting work, you go along with it. Your boyfriend, despite no longer talking to you after the argument, tags along. You both get separate rooms - something you are thankful for, considering how awkward you felt around your partner. You didn't even know if he was considering himself as your boyfriend or if he mentally checked out since the argument.

Now, Argenti decided to make an appearance. Turns out, he had an issue with his ship, so he had to request some resources from the astral express. You had tried to speak to your boyfriend, who was still playing chess by himself as he ignored your pleads for forgiveness - apologising for failing to communicate effectively. Struggling to keep yourself together, you walk to the other side of the room before taking a seat. Pulling out your folders, you get to work on other projects. Hearing someone walking towards you, you assume they'll just be taking a seat somewhere close, only for them to sit right next to you.

"A beauty as precious as one you possess shall not be under-appreciated by an unrequited love." He begins, Dr Ratio halfway through playing a knight, freezing up at this man hitting on you. "With brains to accompany your radiant and decadent beauty, I shall request that you consider flourishing under someone to cherish you."

Dr Ratio gets up from his seat, his mask literally starting to crack as he begins to storm over to you. He realised, through Argenti's speech, that he ought to treat you better since he truly loves you. He had to show you that he has been thinking of you, about how to apologise - he simply kept his mask on because he thought he didn't deserve to show his face until he thought about how to apologise to you for interrupting you. By the time he knows what to say, his mask breaks entirely, falling to the floor to Pom-Pom's distain.

In the middle of Argenti clearly scouting for you to join him on his ship, Dr Ratio walks behind the couch and wraps his arms around you, side glaring at Argenti.

"Apologies, but this is a prize I won." Dr Ratio growls, Argenti chuckling as he gives Dr Ratio a light warning that you were likely going to get snatched up by another man if he screwed up again.

Your boyfriend comes to take Argenti's place on the couch, pulling you in for a hug, he begins his apology.

--

"You didn't talk to me for months, you know?" You pout, your boyfriend scolding himself inwardly for being immature.

"You are the one who's more empathetic than myself. I need to put more effort into understanding your feelings, I'm lucky that you're still alright with me hugging you despite the argument." Dr Ratio sighs, squeezing you as he looks over your shoulder to read your work.

"...I almost forgot how amazing and intelligent my partner is." Dr Ratio smirks, you turning your head to look at him. "If I have to wait a year for compensation of my neglect to remain yours, I would gladly do so."

[copepods]

🌇 factored-antagonism 🔁 three-pronged-spears Follow

🌫️ three-pronged-spears Follow

DNI if you support Peripherism. It's literally just Slab Mongering but worse and with less effort

#wait peripherism is still a thing?????? #meaning collector point inversions havent been the norm in like 350 years afaik

36 notes

💟 pleading-intellect

GUYSSSS my overseer found a clutch of baby green lizards today they're so CUTE

#inty.txt #and BEFORE anyone accuses me of not iterating im literally running 55,458 processes rn

2 notes

❇️ string-of-pearls 🔁 rippling-shadows Follow

👤 forspoken-antiquity Follow

hey FYI everyone if you receive an ask about transcendental inversions it's a troll. i've gotten 3 asks in the last cycle

#signal boost!!

2,347 notes

🌁 nineteen-afterthoughts

"ohhh Triangulation is outdated" "ohhh Triangulators dont even factor noise milking into their research theyre a bunch of idiots" im literallu just a little guy im 4 feet tall why do you hate me

⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse

Irrelevant tangents and jokes don't help your case. Triangulationism is simply an objectively moronic take on an already superfluous train of thought. How are you supposed to find the Solution if you can't even properly look for it?

🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts

you literally have Sliverist in your bio but go off

⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse

The minutiae of my theoretical inclinations are irrelevant. Your dogma is blatantly incorrect regardless.

🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts

your group senior and i are raising a family together

19 notes

💽 slowly-advancing-mist

a band of scavengers literally just stole my last vat of holy ash thats it im seeking personal ascension

#vent #dont rb

0 notes

🚹 untoward-foresight Follow

Anyone else gotten really into Gold Hegemonic epic poetry recently? This one dude Eight Brass Whistles has a bunch of crazy quasi-Regeneratist stuff, it's actually really cool

🎹 east-facing-pillars

wasnt Eight Brass Whistles a heretic???? i heard he refused to shed the 3rd attachment or something like that

🚹 untoward-foresight Follow

Nah that callout post got debunked 533 cycles ago lol

🎹 east-facing-pillars

ahhh ok thanks for clarifying! ill let you know if i find anything :)

#thanks for being polite haha #lesson learned i gotta check this forum more LMAO

93 notes

⬜️ erratic-pulse

anonymous asked:

Transcendental Inversion! Transcendental Inversion!

Only someone with a fundamentally false understanding of inversion modes would send this. You can't even do such a thing without sufficient trailing bonds, which entropy renders impossible.

#Why do I always encounter idiots on this pseudonym?

5 notes

[sbdskate]

Pencils Down (18+) - Daniel Ricciardo x lawyer!fem!reader

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!lawyer!reader

Summary: At the end of the 2022 F1 season, Daniel Ricciardo finalizes his legal affairs by signing as a reserve driver with Red Bull. The tempting young associate who’s handled the negotiations is no longer off limits.

Warnings (18+): language, *smut (!!!), dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, NSFW

Word Count: 2,957

A/N: Surprise! This is an alternate Laws Of Attraction scene that I turned into a one shot. Initially, I had written the hook up to happen immediately after the contract signing, but realized it disrupted the flow of the story. That being said, I still want it to see the light of day. If you're new here: (1) welcome! (2) if you liked it and want the full story, you can find it here. Again, new to smut writing so feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Thank you!

Daniel Ricciardo had finally signed with Red Bull as a reserve driver. After a tumultuous 2022 season filled with lots of lows, you had been the one shiny bright spot as he navigated what his future might look like in the sport. Everybody seemed to have an opinion and something to say, though rarely to his face – how many times had he read in the press that he was “washed up” or that “his career is over” if he didn’t get a primary seat on the grid. But you’d listened to him and supported him as you traversed the fallout with McLaren’s termination and braved negotiations with other teams. Granted, as his lawyer it was your job to act as his fiduciary so he shouldn’t have read as much into it as he did. But from Belgium to Abu Dhabi, he shared his hopes and dreams with you for now and for the future and you received his words with care and without judgment.  

Stress, despair, and proximity created the ultimate concoction that laminated the bond between attorney and client. The more time you spent together, the more you learned about each other, and the harder it was to keep personal feelings from muddling the professional relationship. He watched as you navigated worlds surrounded by men, both in Daniel’s field and yours, and he admired your wit, intellect and steadfast determination in the face of being constantly undermined and underestimated. And you, ever the skeptic and cautious to a fault, couldn’t help but succumb to the charm of the handsome driver even when he was at his worst.

Which brought you to the hallway of Red Bull hospitality, the ink from his signature still wet on the new contract for the 2023 season. The other lawyers and representatives had cleared out, leaving the two of you to contemplate whether the little touches and prolonged glances over the last three months were more than they seemed.   

“So that’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Pencils down.”

“Yep.”

“I’m not your client anymore.”

“Correct, I no longer represent you.”

“Now what?”

The irony of the situation was not lost on either of you. After months of buildup and counting down the seconds until the end of your attorney-client representation, you were stuck in a country that criminalized PDA and the cohabitation of unmarried couples. He was scheduled to go back to Perth and you back to the New York office of your law firm tomorrow. You hadn’t allowed your daydreams to get this far and you were stumped.

“I don’t know.” The universe was cruel and unforgiving. You checked your surroundings and bit your lip in frustration.

“Follow me,” he whispered. “I know a place.”

You followed the driver a pace or two behind in silence as you tracked the maze of Red Bull hospitality, cutting through the kitchen, hallways and corridors, until you reached Max’s driver’s room. He closed the door and locked it behind you. He grabbed your hands.

“Tell me you don’t want this. And I’ll leave you alone. You’ll never have to see me again.” His voice was low and gruff, in a way you had never heard before. He squeezed your hands, eyes pleading, trying to convey more than he could put into words in the moment.

You shook your head in disbelief that somehow that was the conclusion he had come to. You cupped his face with your hand, thumb rubbing along his stubbled jaw line. Your voice was soft, barely able to get the words out.

“I want this. I want you. Please.”

You didn’t have to say it twice. His lips crashed into yours in a passionate kiss that almost knocked you off your feet. Months of pent-up sexual tension and mutual curiosity were released in an instant. Your hands roamed each other’s bodies, too many places to explore to stay in one place. Your hands finally found a home in his soft, beautiful curls while his hand firmly held the base of your neck. His other hand rubbed circles around your lower back, cautiously moving downwards. You smiled into the kiss and moved his hand to your bottom, granting permission to proceed.

Having the green light, he moved his other hand down to grab a handful of your ass and picked you up. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him as he pushed you up against the wall. The hem of your pencil skirt scrunched up at your waist. The thin fabric of your underwear and the bulge of his pants caused friction against your sensitive clit, and you wiggled your hips to get more from the sensation. You kissed him back with ferocity in an attempt to stifle the moans you desperately wanted to scream out, especially as you felt him harden from the contact. You pouted when he pulled away, only for his lips to land on the sensitive spot on your neck. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, unfortunately with too much gusto causing a loud *thud* when your head hit the wall. He immediately stopped.

“Are you ok?” His concern was immediately replaced by giggles when he saw you laughing. “Shhhh we still need to be quiet.”

“I know, I know,” you said between fits of laughter. “It’s just – are we crazy? We’re in a glorified closet with paper thin walls.” You paused, your laughter slowing. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you said with a sympathetic smile. He gave you a chaste kiss.

“If it were up to me,” Your eyes rolled back as his lips met the column of your neck again. “I’d wine and dine you so hard,” *peck*  “maybe somewhere in Monaco,” *peck* “and then take you home and fuck you on the balcony.” You were practically drooling by the time he pulled away to look at you. “This is nowhere close to being good enough for what you deserve. We can stop whenever you want.”

You looked at him, dazed. His warm chestnut brown eyes were so earnest, but it was hard to keep your head straight with him still firmly pressed against you.  You absentmindedly wiggled again but he steadied your hips with his fingers. He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I need you to use your words. Do you want to stop?” You frowned.

“No,” you paused. “But I don’t know if I want to continue here.”

“There’s always tonight.” Skeptical, you raised an eyebrow.

“Go on?”

“Well, I can come to your room once all the festivities are over and everyone goes to bed. If you’ll have me, of course.” You swooned.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I already told you I want you. It’s risky though, no?”

“I mean yeah, a little. But …” he grabbed your wrists and pinned them besides your head. “…trying not to get caught is half the fun.” His hot breath tickled your face. All sense of logic and reason went out the window. As a lawyer, this whole situation went against your very nature of rule following. 

“Oh,” was all you could croak out.

“Can I do something for you before we go outside?”

“Please,” you begged, eliciting a wicked smirk from him. It dawned on you that he enjoyed seeing you frazzled. But you enjoyed it too. Considering how intense your job was, the mental reprieve was just as thrilling as his touch.

Peeling you from the wall, he continued to hold you until he sat down on the massage table so that you were straddling him. Free from you prior constraints, you rolled your hips over his hardened bulge as you made out. His hands moved from your ass to unbutton your shirt partially, just enough to expose your breasts. He moved a hand to cup one, gently rolling a thumb over your unlined bra where your nipple lay beneath. He separated from the kiss to make his way south, not missing the opportunity to take you in.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. He remembered when you burst into his own room just a few weeks ago to apologize for abandoning him in Austin. Flushed rosy cheeks, messy hair, clothes disheveled, panting - as you were now. He loved how easily he could make you come undone and that only he could ever see you this way. He raised his hips to meet yours when his mouth finally landed on your neck again. You leaned forward and gently bit his shoulder to suppress the noises that threatened to spill from your lips as you bucked your hips. Not trusting your ability to stay quiet, you began leaving a trail of kisses starting at his jaw and down his neck. He stopped you part way down his chest when he realized what you were doing, grabbing your hips roughly. You looked up at him innocently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You already make me feel good. This is about you.” He hoisted you back up on his lap, positioning so he could pick you up again. You let out a small yelp at the sudden movement, only for him to place you back down on the massage table. He leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead before spreading your legs and kneeling in front of you. If you weren’t blushing before, your face was now beet-red. His hands lightly caressed the length of your leg, starting at your ankles and slowly making their way up your thighs. Your toes curled in your heels in anticipation.

You took a sharp inhale as he leaned in to leave a trail kisses up your inner thigh. You held your breath when he stopped at your panty-line, his hands playing with the sides of your thong. He looked up at you intently.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Eyes wide, you aggressively nodded and he chuckled at your eagerness. He drew little patterns over and around you, but purposefully just shy of your clit. You bit your bottom lip in frustration, the teasing becoming unbearable. He lightly dragged a finger over the center of your underwear, feeling your wetness through the fabric. As cool, calm, and collected as he looked to you, he too was quite literally bursting at the seams. His hardened cock strained against his pants seeking release. He wished he could fuck you right then and there, but understood the obvious risks you so pointedly observed.

Your legs trembled as he slowly pulled the fabric down. You wanted to scream feeling his hot breath over your entrance. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he closed the gap. He drew little circles around your bundle of nerves with his tongue before he switched to flicking. Your free hand found its way to his curls again, grasping for anything to keep you grounded as you felt like you would float away. Looking up from between your thighs, he saw the rise and fall of your chest and your bra peeking through your shirt. He unwrapped an arm to bring a finger to your folds, pausing to gauge your reaction.

You subconsciously bucked your hips, desperate for more contact. Accepting the sign, he inserted a finger, then two as he continued to lap at your clit. You arched your back in response to the dual sensations, doing your best to focus on your breathing. You wanted to shout his name to the world, to let everyone know that he was yours and you were his. Every obscenity known to man was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it in. His hands and mouth fell into a comfortable rhythm as your hand found a place in his hair again, running fingers through soft ringlets. Your core tensed, pressure pooling in your lower abdomen. He sensed you were close as you subconsciously squeezed your thighs around his head, encouraging him to keep going. He wished he could stay there forever. He looked up again a few moments later to see your eyes squeezed shut and your whole body convulsing around him as you reached your climax. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

You melted into the table as you came down from your high. You gave him a small pat on the head to indicate that you had finished, though your limp body was evidence enough to him. He smiled as he pulled away, giving a small kiss on your inner thigh before sucking his fingers that had been inside you moments ago. You lazily glanced at him slack-jawed. You still weren’t sure whether this was all just a fever dream. He began to wipe his mouth but you grabbed his shirt to stop him.

“No,” you mumbled. You haphazardly pulled on the shirt in your hands to encourage him to meet your lips and he happily obliged. “I want to taste myself,” you said under your breath just as the gap closed.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to deserve such praise but was thankful nonetheless. You felt another wave of pleasure pulse through you as you tasted your own salty essence on your tongue. You began palming him over his pants, moving to unbuckle his belt when he stopped you. Sometimes he even surprised himself with the amount of self-control he had. But he knew it was only because if things progressed, the little he had left would dissolve into oblivion. He would happily go to jail for you, but he was not worried about getting caught himself. The repercussions for you would be detrimental in more ways than one and he wasn’t sure his celebrity would be enough to shelter you from reprimand.   

“Nooooo,” you whined as he peeled your hand from his crotch. He gave it a kiss before returning it to your side.

“Not here. Later, I promise.” His cock was pulsating, he tried to think of the Bills, Zak Brown, or literally anything else to take his mind away from the vision in front of him. You moved your hand down to play with yourself, but he grabbed it again. Your lower lip jutted, and you spread your legs wider for him. He was pretty sure he would give you almost anything you asked for with the eyes you gave him. Almost.

“Why?”

“Because we’ll get caught.”

“If I go to jail, I go to jail.” He laughed.

“That’s not what you said earlier. Plus -” he gave you a peck on the cheek. “I can’t fuck you if you’re in jail.” He had a point. You closed your legs, finally conceding.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” Taking your hand again, he helped you to your feet. He knelt before you to pull your panties up, unnecessarily taking his time. He didn’t miss the opportunity to kiss your hips and gave your butt a light tap to close out the encounter. He straightened your skirt, taking care to smooth out as many wrinkles as he could. You bit your bottom lip, your heart felt so full with how delicately he handled you but you also ached for him to rip off the clothes he just took great care putting on.

“You’re being awfully needy.” He continued to dress you as you complained, buttoning your shirt back up.

“What can I say? I’m a strong, independent, needy woman.” He bit back his laugh. He didn’t need you to know this hurt him as much as it pained you.

You pulled him in for a kiss again, though it only lasted a second before he practically pushed you away. You frowned and were about to ask his what was wrong, but looked down and quickly realized his conundrum. You were reminded of one of the few benefits of being a woman: the ability to hide arousal in public.

“Oh – oh shit. I can help…?” You gently touched his chest and began kneeling but he placed your hand back at your side and encouraged you to stand upright.

“Nope. No. I just have to… think of something else for a bit.” You looked at him intently but he was very focused on the ceiling. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, so you pursed your lips together to hold back your laughter.

“Ok. Well, um, I’ll see you later then.” He shut his eyes hard when you went to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” you said again, realizing you were not helping the situation. “I’m just - going to go.” You turned around and bent over to pick up your work bag, which incidentally prominently displayed the curves of your rear.

“Oh my God, please just get out.” You immediately stood up straight to find him covering his eyes with his hands.

“I know, I’m sorry!” You walked backwards to the door to avoid any further accidental temptation. “This was fun, I’ll see you later,” you said with a giant smile.

Not removing one of the hands from his face, he waved with the other one. “Just be careful on your way out. But please, for the sake of both of us, you need to leave,” he said with a smile.

“I know, I know, I’m leaving. Byeeee,” you whispered as you shut the door.

You quickly checked your surroundings and made a b-line for the bathroom where you finally had a moment to process what just happened. You looked at your reflection. Your heartbeat had finally returned to normal, but your cheeks were still a little flushed from the encounter. Otherwise, you pulled your slightly tangled hair back in a bun – no one would be none the wiser.

You didn’t look much different, but your sense of reality had been permanently altered.

[shakingparadigm]

I love how often Ivan is referred to as childish, not only by the characters in-universe, but even more by the creators themselves. The juxtaposition of the perfect man (tallest of the roster, bearing the deepest voice, dressed in sleek and masculine outfits, known for his more matured and intelligent disposition) expressing his love and desire in such a shameless manner, one befitting of a little child who doesn't know what to do with the myriad of feelings bursting in their chest. Even as he grows older he vies for Till's attention in such convoluted ways. Ivan is beyond his years in intellect, yet emotionally immature. Carrying responsible maturity as a mask and nursing a childlike desperation underneath. The need to be seen, constantly craving attention. To keep something as yours, holding it close so that no one can take it away. The selfish indulgence of touch. Always pleading to be noticed, acting out when you can't get what you want. Hands outstretched for someone who doesn't want you, someone who doesn't need you like you need them.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Hey. How would Monster!König react at his little pet, who was obedient all the time, suddenly snapping at him, because he threw their "kids"-eggs out?

He won't take any ounce of disobedience, even if it's justified and he is genuinely being an asshole to his human wife. All of his instincts of always being the strongest(therefore, always in the right in the monster society) and his genuine thoughts of you as a being with lesser intellect than him, he just can't comprehend that you can be mad at him, for real!! If you were always docile and obedient, he was almost hurt when you started spewing all of those venomous words at him, all of your attempts to make him the worst guy possible, just because you wanted to save some dumb eggs that shouldn't even be allowed in the quarters with adult monsters?? He can't believe you, his pet wife, is choosing some offsprings over him. Konig can't even listen to you, he is simply too angry to actually stop and allow your anger to grow - he is taking you on his shoulder like a toy, and dropping you in the same pool or ocean tide where he threw the eggs out, if you want to be sooo close with them and play mommy. He doesn't allow you to actually drown, of course, but it's like dropping a cat in the bathtub - you're soaked in your anger until you will plead with him to let you go on the surface again, and now he hopes you won't be as dumb about everything. If you're nice enough, he might allow you to take one egg with you later, but only if he thinks the clutch won't be too useless with fewer kids.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Now creator-chan I saw your blogged on how optimus accidentally purposed to Megatron I got really invested I would like to know if it's possible for you to do other parts cause I really wanna know what happened and why megs accepted the blade😁😍

I was already planning on adding to this concept! The original idea belongs to @brandwhorestarscream and the post that I added to is here.

If you would like additional parts after this one, please send another ask to my inbox! Otherwise I WILL forget because I have too many thoughts.

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Megatron did not consider his relationship with Optimus to be anything more than old rivals turned political allies. The war was over at last, and now their bitter grudges were little more than dust in the wind. Megatron honored that reality and treated Optimus as a diplomat when he came to peace talks. There was no reason to incite war once more when the Prime and his followers were being just as reasonable as he was. Everything was polite and courteous, as was only proper. Starscream had his objections, but most of the Decepticons were tired of war. The time had come for peace, and Megatron would get it for them.

Then of course Optimus Prime, ever the unpredictable mech that he was, came flying out of absolutely nowhere with a gift. When the box was offered to him, Megatron was highly suspicious. However once he opened it and saw the blade offered, every single thought he had was completely derailed.

"Lord Megatron, what in the Unmaker's name were you thinking?!?" Starscream all but screeched from across the table. Thinking back on the situation, he really hadn't been thinking all that hard about his decision. It had been so very... Optimus in an odd way.

Optimus Prime had followed courting protocol perfectly. Now that he had accepted Optimus's proposal, it was obvious that Optimus had been attempting to court him for far longer than he thought. Warframe courting always began with a show of strength, both physical and intellectual. Optimus beat him in battle time and time again, and yet never once did the Prime cut him down. Over and over Optimus matched his intellect with genius plans and strategies, but he never pressed his advantage enough to cripple Megatron and his forces. He had long proven his strength and intelligence. Megatron must have been blind to be unable to see the way Optimus offered mercy and constantly pleaded for peace. It was now quite clearly an attempt to smooth over courting gone wrong.

What a fool he was. Millions of years Optimus tried to get his attention, and Megatron in his anger failed to see it. Their ridiculous war would have had no need to drag on so long if he had simply seen Optimus's intentions for what they were. After all, why would a fellow warframe go so far out of his way to spare Megatron if not because of a desire to court?

"Starscream: Correct. Megatron: Has a plan?" Soundwave chimed in, his visor glinting in that ever knowing way. Megatron felt his processors kick into overdrive as he considered. He couldn't exactly tell his two genius officers that he had taken one look at the blade and promptly found himself all but certain in his decision to accept. That would be weakness embodied. They could never know that he had not meticulously thought out his choice. If he played it right, he could possibly convince them that he hadn't spent most of the peace meeting that cycle staring at Optimus and admiring the frame that he had long sought weaknesses in. Optimus's paint was a very flattering color now that he actually looked-

Frag, he was getting off topic.

"I do, Soundwave." Megatron replied with full confidence as he fiddled with the blade he now held in his lap. It was a work of art. The design was simply perfect. It was no wonder that after four million years, Optimus had gotten fed up and moved courting along through the offering of a weapon.

"Conjunxing the Prime is an excellent way to solidify out peace arrangements. Not to mention, it will give us a greater voice in Autobot social circles." Starscream made a begrudging noise of agreement with his on the spot reasoning. Soundwave was more skeptical, but he nodded and Megatron internally sighed in relief. Optimus had been courting him for millennia and Megatron failed to notice. He may have been a warframe, but he was a mech of class. There was much to be done now that things were right and proper.

Sure, he was not exactly expecting romantic feelings for his former foe to smack him in the face. But who was he to stop it considering Optimus himself proposed? The Prime obviously held a love deeper than Megatron could even comprehend in order to meet him on the battlefield for so long. Megatron would need to make up for lost time, and he would need to do so as soon as possible. Already his Conjunx to be had gone out of his way with his gift and millennia of graciousness.

"Optimus has followed the proper protocols for courting. I shall need to do the same in order to represent the Decepticons properly." Standing up, Megatron rested his servo on the blade. The dagger he had given Optimus was not at all suitable for one who was to become the Conjunx to the Lord of the Decepticons. Telling the press about the proposal was basic courtesy. No, he would need to do much MUCH more to make up for all the effort and devotion Optimus Prime had evidently been offering over the course of the war. How he failed to notice the signs was beyond him, but he would not leave his Conjunx to be alone in his passion any longer. Of course it would take time for him to develop real feelings for his former foe, but he would devote himself to the effort.

Optimus deserved that much at least.

"Soundwave, prepare a residence for my Conjunx to be. I will not allow my betrothed to have anything but the finest. Our reputation depends on it." He added his last statement as an afterthought, his musings already elsewhere as he left the room, Starscream gaping behind him. The dagger he had given Optimus was a promise, but it was not at all worthy of being held by his future Conjunx. The Prime needed something better, something worthy of his station and their future bond.

"Perfect." Megatron grinned and plans began forming. He was going to make things right and prove that Optimus had not given so much of his time and devotion for nothing. Megatron was many things, but a mech without love for tradition? No, he would cling to the old ways just as mightily as his courting partner had. Optimus had set the bar high and Megatron was going to meet it or die trying.

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"Welcome Optimus." Megatron bowed as the Prime stepped out from his transport. It had taken a bit of effort on his end to arrange for more peace conferences, but with his and Optimus's betrothal as a viable reason to meet, it had not been impossible.

"Allow me to lead you to your residence." Megatron extended and arm, which the wary and startled Prime hesitantly took as he wrangled with his meager luggage. Megatron internally tisked seeing the measly collection of items Optimus had brought with him. No Conjunx of his would live off war supplies. He was going to get Optimus an actual wardrobe as soon as it was socially acceptable. But first, Megatron had to push the courting process along.

"I hope you will find this acceptable throughout your stay." Gesturing up at the massive structure Soundwave had dutifully selected with Megatron's stamp of approval, he observed Optimus's reaction. The Prime dropped his luggage with a thump and stared up in compete awe at the building. His mask, forever in place, did little to hide the surprise glinting in his optics. Megatron all but puffed up with pride as he noted the reaction. Optimus had proven his strength and wit, now Megatron could return the favor by showing that he could provide. A mighty Conjunx deserved only the best, and Megatron was more than willing to give one building to make his point. It was not nearly enough, the residence was not nearly tall or grand enough, but it would do for now. Once they were Conjunxed, he would have Optimus personally assist in designing their future residence. That way everything would be perfect.

"This is... too much-" Optimus began, his grip on Megatron's arm soft and considerate. Oh how that hurt Megatron's spark. The disbelief in his betrothed's optics would not do at all. He had spent so long fighting for Megatron's attention that he must have been struggling to believe it was being returned. Yet another thing to rectify. Time and devotion would wipe that disbelief away.

"Not at all. You are to be my Conjunx. It is only right I grant you privileges and luxuries worthy of such a title." Again, the Prime stared at him as if he had scraplets crawling out of his audials. Megatron wished he could beat his younger self against a wall. It was so obvious now. How foolish he had been for failing to see the signs. Optimus Prime somehow knew warframe courting better than any Iaconian Megatron ever met.

"If you would join me for energon this evening, I would be honored." Lifting Optimus's servo, he pressed a soft kiss to the knuckle. He could feel the way the Prime froze up, but he smiled as he stood straight again, pressing a gift into his betrothed's servo. It was such a small thing, but Megatron had thrown all his attention into making it as ornamental as possible during the past few cycles.

"A dagger? You already gave me one..." Optimus trailed off as he noted the inscription on the blade.

'Do not unsheathe me without reason. Do not wield me without honor'

Cross regional warframe courting could be hard, but Megatron felt fairly confident in his choice of Iaconian script. Optimus appeared to agree with him considering how light his touch on the weapon was. Megatron internally cheered as he stepped back. Their courting would need to progress more before he could be much more forward. Tradition had to be upheld. Not to mention there were likely cameras watching.

"I will see you soon Prime." He smiled again before turning to walk away, leaving Optimus to enter the towering residence nervously. Plans formulated in his processors as he sauntered toward his personal transport. He would do things right. And Primus help him, he was going to force feelings to form after all the devotion given to him by the one and only Optimus Prime.

"Soundwave, begin planning social functions here in Kaon. My Conjunx to be deserves to see the best of our culture." A ping of acknowledgement returned to him shortly and Megatron grinned with more glee. Optimus was to be in Kaon for at least a few stellar cycles, as per Iaconian courting standards. That gave Megatron plenty of time to make his claim known and begin making up for the courting Optimus had already gone through.

[theregencywriter]

(1) A Gentlemen's Pursuit - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

~Colin returns from his travels with a new friend many expect him to marry, though he had no intentions of this. His brother benedict however, may need to....~

My Dearest Readers,

Oh, how the social elites continue to delight us with their ever-unfolding dramas and whispers of romance. Today, I bring forth the most intriguing news, for it appears that the charming Colin Bridgerton is about to be reunited with an old acquaintance, one whom he met on his travels abroad, and whose arrival is sure to set hearts aflutter.

It is my pleasure to reveal that she plans to stay in London indefinitely and will soon grace the city with her presence. Yes, my dear readers, the very same Miss l/n who has long been rumoured as the top contender for Colin’s affection.

Allow me to remind you of the history shared between Miss y/n l/n and Mr. Colin Bridgerton. They had first met during Colin’s travels around Europe, where they would frolic about the ruins of cities past, engrossed in the innocence of youth. Over their respective journeys, their paths diverged, and Miss l/n’s star rose within many a country’s social leagues, while Mr. Bridgerton pursued his fair share of less than respectable women. But as fate would have it, their paths are destined to converge once again.

Whispers of their reunion have already begun to circulate, and I can assure you, dear readers, that it promises to be a meeting of hearts and minds. Miss l/n’s wit, intellect, and unassuming beauty have long been expected to captivate the hearts of society, while Mr. Bridgerton's reputation as a debonair gentleman precedes him wherever he goes. One cannot help but wonder if their friendship will blossom into something more.

With Miss l/n's arrival imminent, I can only imagine the delight that will permeate the Bridgerton household. I envision stolen glances, heartfelt conversations, and perhaps even the rekindling of a flame that has smoldered quietly for ages. How thrilling it will be to witness the unfolding of this tale!

Thus, dear readers, I implore you to keep your eyes peeled and your ears open, for it is in these quiet moments that love often finds a way to take hold. Let us revel in the enchantment that surrounds the Bridgertons, for it is a testament to the enduring power of love and the possibility of second chances.

Yours in anticipation,

Lady Whistledown…

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"Martine, must I endure this uncomfortable posture any longer? My arms are beginning to ache" Y/N pleaded, shifting in her seat while maintaining a firm grip on her fan. Its delicate feathers trembled slightly as she stole a glance through the window, yearning for a moment of respite. With an exasperated sigh, her stepmother’s maid responded, her voice tinged with impatience, "Yes, my dear, you must persist. The eager onlookers outside await your arrival. Remember, tomorrow night is your grand debut; a mere glimpse shall suffice."

The carriage advanced closer to the Bridgerton residence, nestled proudly within the esteemed Grosvenor Square. Y/N's eyes fell upon the grandeur of the house, causing her to lower her fan momentarily in awe. However, her maid's sharp instincts brought it back up. Inside of the home, the Bridgerton children played in the lavish drawing room alongside their e mother, while Eloise and Penelope accompanying them. During their gathering, a butler entered the room, his presence commanding attention, and announced with utmost formality, "Miss Y/N has arrived."

Upon hearing the news, Colin sprang from his seat with an eagerness that did not elude Penelope's keen observation. Since his return, he had not stopped speaking about his and Y/N's journey, leading Penelope to suspect that a proposal might be imminent. Despite never having met Y/N, a hidden resentment grew within her, concealed behind a carefully crafted smile.

The Bridgerton family sat in their residence anxiously awaiting her arrival, anticipation filling the air like a palpable force. Colin, though outside, found it difficult to contain his restless energy. He had spoken of Y/N with such fervour and adoration since his return that his family couldn't help but share in his excitement.

As they gathered near the entrance of the door to gaze down the hallway the Bridgerton siblings exchanged eager glances, their faces alive with curiosity. Eloise held her breath, a blend of sisterly anticipation and genuine interest for the newest addition to their social circle. Anthony, the dutiful older brother, attempted to maintain a stoic facade, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of intrigue. The younger siblings—Benedict, Colin's closest confidant, and Francesca—buzzed with whispers and barely contained excitement.

Their mother exuded an air of quiet authority as she surveyed the scene. A mix of hope and maternal concern danced in her eyes, for she wished nothing more than for her children to find happiness in love.

Finally, the sound of hooves reached their ears, growing louder with each passing moment. The tension in the air intensified as the carriage, adorned with elegant embellishments, came into view. The horses pranced along the beaten cobbled road, their coats reflecting the balmy afternoon sunlight.

With bated breath, the Bridgertons watched as the carriage gracefully came to a stop. The footman quickly descended, his precise movements reflecting the well-honed routines of the household. The door swung open, revealing Y/N, resplendent in a gown that blended sophistication and allure. The light caught her eyes, sparkling with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

As Y/N exited from the carriage, Colin's gaze locked onto her, his heart pounding within his chest. His eyes conveyed a mixture of awe and longing, as though he had found in Y/N something he had been searching for all his life.

The Bridgerton family, like a unit frozen in time, stood in awe of this new arrival. It was as if the world held its breath, recognizing the significance of this moment. Each member of the family had their own hopes and expectations, their own secrets and desires, intertwined with the arrival of Y/N—a figure who they had heard so much about.

After being helped out of the carriage y/n ran up to Colin, who picked her up by the waist and joyfully spun her around. The two shared a laugh that faded into glee as he lowered her down, their eyes still locked. “You’re here.” He spoke.

“I’m here” she returned.

Colin, ever the eager matchmaker, took Y/N's arm, guiding her towards the entrance of the house. His eyes shone with uncontainable delight as he led her through the hallway.

Within the drawing room, the Bridgerton siblings awaited their arrival, their gazes shifting from the entrance to Colin's expectant face. Among them stood Benedict, the second eldest Bridgerton brother, known by y/n for his artistic abilities.

As Colin and Y/N entered the room, the murmurs hushed, and all eyes turned towards the pair. Benedict's attention was instantly captivated by the sight of Y/N, a vision of beauty and elegance. He analysed the delicate brushstrokes of her features, the way her eyes seemed to hold a plethora of colours.

Colin performed the introductions with excitement. "Y/N, may I present my dear brother, Benedict Bridgerton," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of his fondness for both individuals. Benedict stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Y/N with curiosity.

Y/N curtsied gracefully, her movements reflecting a poise instilled by years of social etiquette. Benedict's eyes lingered on her, captivated by the grace and charm she exuded. He extended his hand, his touch gentle and warm as he took hers in his own. The moment their skin met, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them.

Their first words were exchanged, simple pleasantries that masked the intensity of the moment. Yet, beneath the surface, a silent understanding seemed to grow—a recognition of shared interests and hidden desires.

As she was introduced to the rest of the group Penelope stood next to Eloise. y/n curtsied towards her and smiled. “You must be Eloise. I’ve heard so much about you.” Y/n smiled, and as the real Eloise grinned Penelope struggled to keep composure. “I am not. I am Penelope Featherington, Eloise and Colins friend” Y/n apologised and continued on with her introductions, though she could not deny the burning feeling of Penelope’s eyes as she stared at her.

Colin stood next to Benedict as the other end of the line. “Rather beautiful is she not?” Colin said in passing.

“Yes, she is.” Benedict said as his voice trailed off, eyes fixated on her.