#harmony con

[justasuta]

I HAVE WANTED TO MAKE A GIRLS NIGHT GIRLS NIGHT PRINT FOR SO LONG AND NOW I HAVE FOR HARMONY AND BABS

GIRLS NIGHT GIRLS NIGHT GIRLS NIGHT

I̶̢̼͚͙̖̝͌͋͒͗̅̐̆͂͒͛̅͗͛͋̐̋̋̅̇͂̾̇̀̾́̐̈́͗̅̕͜ͅṰ̶̡̡̛̳̥͙͎̝̟̙̻̞͕̥̙͓̟̻̳̪̟̟͊́͒̄͆͗̓̐͌͌͆́̾̔̂́̈́̈̕͝͝ͅͅS̵̛̛̝̠̪̲͈̻̮̠̜͔͎͔̟̺̦̗͍̭͛͐̔̆̍́̇̽͌̐̀̐̀͆͆̀̉̄͛̏̈̀̓̑͛̕͝͝ ̴̢͖̺͚̫̥̲̳̦̭̮̣͚̯̤͙̫̺͈̍̾̎̔̄́̐͗̀̏̐̃̅̆͛̑͆̄̋̾̕̕͜͝G̶̢̧̧̧̢̮̠̞̮͔̮̹̮̰͍͍͈͓̮̼̻͕̲͖͉͍͙͕̬̫̞͍̙̜̮̀̇̈̓͗̉̿͒̐̐̃̐̌̔͛̔͝͝I̸̧̖͕͙̪̰̲̜͉̥̲̗͕̝̫̟̱̳͛͌́́͊̅̂ͅŖ̸͈͎͍͎͔̬͇̻̥̫̬͇̺̖͚͎̬̱̠̈́͊̑͌̈́̇͂́̊͊̈́͜Ĺ̸̲̥̣̖̬̰̠̳̯̤̩͕̯̪̺̤̲̥͉̠̜̞̖͜͜Ş̷̧̥̮͕͍̫̺̙͚̜̓͛͂̏́̔͊̎̾͋́͗͑̓͆͊̑̈́͑͋͌̑̉͋́̏̈́̎͘̕̚̚̚̚͜͝͝ͅ ̵̛͎̼̱̘̖̹̜̖̺̳̣̥̣̫̪͖̼̭̦̹̥̝̫̹̪͋͗͌̏̈̃̑͛̋̈́̉͆̇̍͂̍͑͒̐̀͒̄̚̚̚͜͜ͅŇ̴̡̡̺̦͖̳͚̘̠̥̠̠̫̣͗̈́̌̎͆̾́̑̏̔̀́́̋̄̀̓͂̌̒̊͠͠Į̶̢̛̛̥̠̠̰͔̰̬̥̙͚̣̘͇̮̹̳̯̰̙̤͙͙̩͓̣̙͗͆͒͂̈́̈́̇͛͋͆͆͐̍̃͗͋͋͐̾̍̾̇͋̓̑̕̚͠ͅĠ̴̨̡̖̜͓̘̯͇̪͚͈̦͉̥͉͙̗̙̎̎͑͆̾̏̎̑̈́̈͆̽͐̈̒̇̓̌̊͒͂̀̀̓̅̚̕͘͜͝Ḩ̵̛̛̦̙̯̩͓͙̻̭̜͍̖̭̜̟̭̯̣̗̫̜̰̝̝̤̥̻͐̐͛̉͋̃̈́̓̉̌̍̓͛̈̀̔̽̓͒̑̓̀̚̕͜͠͝͝T̸̨̠̙̗̘̯͙̞̥̭̟̼͖̤͈͍̣͇͍͎̰̍͆̉̿̾̑̍͝ͅ

[orbtii]

Appledash scene cosplay for harmony con 2024!

Tom boy rights!

[razzyx09]

Day 2 of Harmonycon

[alexdti]

This was really exciting to work on, I'm still very happy to be one of the artist who made official art, it's just one poster, but it's still amazing

You can find this poster at Harmony PonyCon!

[cobelschewtoy]

Inspection

Harmony Cobel x Reader

Summary:  Ms. Cobel summons you to her office after noticing signs of you being unwell. 

Tags: mild medical play (no tools (except gloves)), dubious consent, power imbalance, fingering, inspection, orgasm denial

Words: 1,656

Author's Note: Something about Ms Cobel’s cadence and the pretend detached voice I enjoy during this kind of scene is so 😵‍💫. Choosing whether or not she should wear the black gloves they use when doing first aid was the hardest part of writing this fic (I chose to do the gloves (anyone who knows me is not surprised))

Reader is explicitly referred to as a woman (</3) and is wearing a skirt and panties

ao3 | masterlist

You follow half-a-pace behind Mr. Milchick as he leads you to Ms. Cobel’s office. He hadn’t explained why he’d been sent to get you. You can’t think of anything you’ve done that’s bad enough to earn a meeting with Ms. Cobel before going to the Break Room. Even the few times you have warranted a visit with her first, she’d scold you in the Break Room itself.

It’s unlikely to be that yet you can’t think of another reason. Your department chief is in today which means it can’t be a promotion. You clasp your hands in front of yourself and squeeze them tight to stop your anxious fidgeting. There’s nothing you can do, no matter what the meeting will be about, so there’s no point in worrying about it.

The thought doesn’t stop the tight ball in your chest from growing as you step up to her door. You knock and Mr. Milchick waits for Ms. Cobel’s permission to enter before sending you his bright smile and leaving. You aren’t sure what that means either. He’s always hovering outside her office when one of you are in there.

You gently open the door. The same sight as always greets you. Ms. Cobel sitting at her desk, hands folded in front of her. You stop in front of her, hands once again clasped tightly, and wait.

“This is not a preamble to the Break Room,” she says and your shoulders relax. “However, it is about some concerning behaviour you’ve exhibited recently.”

The tension immediately returns. Concerning behaviour? You’ve never been accused of that before. The cause for your trips to the Break Room tend to lean more towards blatant infractions.

“Have I done something wrong?” you ask nervously.

“It will depend on the cause of the behaviour,” she says and you nod in understanding. “You’ve become restless, unfocused and,” her eyes scan your body with a look you can’t recognise, “squirmy.”

Oh. Your gaze drops in embarrassment. You don’t know exactly what it is but you know where you feel it. You know the names for where you feel it too; vagina, pussy, cunt. But there isn’t really a professional way to say that. 

“It’s a feeling I get sometimes. I don’t know why,” you say quietly.

“A feeling where?”

“My stomach,” you say.

“Your stomach,” she says flatly. You nod, your curved shoulders giving you away. “A stomach bug does not have the same symptoms as the ones we are currently discussing.”

“My…lower stomach,” you try.

Her expression doesn’t change. She just stares at you in silence. You only last a few seconds before it becomes too much and you start tugging at the bottom of your shirt. 

“Between my legs,” you finally admit just as quietly, gaze fixed firmly to the floor.

“I see,” she says and leans back in her chair. “That is quite concerning.”

Concerning in an affects-your-work way or concerning in a worried-for-your-health way? Your eyes flick to hers for a moment but you still can’t read her expression.

“This is something that we will have to be investigate,” she says and stands.

You eye her nervously. “Investigate how?”

She doesn’t answer you. She moves to the wall and removes a first aid kit.

“I thought Mr. Milchick was our first aid officer?” you ask as she places it upon her desk.

“This is a more delicate matter. It has been noted that women feel more relaxed when this matter is dealt with by another woman,” Ms. Cobel says.

“Okay,” you nod and fidget nervously.

She hasn’t explained what the matter is. How sick are you? If she noticed, did the others? If they did why didn’t they say anything? It can be hard talking about things that are a result of the outside world but if you’re sick enough for Ms. Cobel to intervene surely they would have said something.

She opens the kit and pulls out a pair of gloves. She pulls them on slowly and when she lets go of the bottom of the glove it snaps back against her wrist with a loud smack. You swallow.

“Bend over,” she says, the exact same way she says everything.

The casualness of it makes your brain second guess the meaning. But no, you heard right. She waits, watching, and you notice how dry your mouth is. You take a hesitant step closer to her desk before leaning down and holding yourself up with your hands.

A hand lands between your shoulder blades and you jolt in surprise. You think this is the first time she’s ever touched you. Actually, you think this is the first time anyone’s touched you on your back at all. 

“Lower,” Ms. Cobel says and presses down.

You obey. She doesn’t stop until you’re front is firmly pressed against the desk. 

“Ms. Cobel?” you ask in a small voice.

“Stay there.” Her hand smooths down your back and then curves over your hip.

Her hand continues until it reaches the bottom of your skirt. You tense slightly as she slowly lifts it to settle about your waist. You try to relax, even as her gloved fingers find the waistband of your panties. The feeling that makes you ‘squirmy’ is back. You want to ask her what she’s doing but you’ve been on the severed floor long enough to know you are only ever told what they want to tell you and no more.

Your panties drop to the floor and you want to bury your face in your arms but when you try to move Ms. Cobel’s hand returns to your back, hard enough that it feels light her nails are digging into your skin.

“I believe I told you to stay still,” she says.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Cobel,” you murmur, something like embarrassment flaring through you.

She doesn’t respond. Her hand returns to your hip, purely so it can run down the curve of your ass and to the wetness growing between your thighs. She doesn’t pause. Two fingers run through your dripping folds. You gasp, hips jolting at the unfamiliar feeling. You’re surprised at how much your cunt enjoys it. She’s barely touching you. 

“An appropriate amount of lubrication,” she notes. You don’t know if you should be embarrassed or not. “Perhaps a bit more than the situation warrants.”

Before you can try and parse out if your should be embarrassed by that, her fingers dip lower and nudge something that makes you twitch. Something that makes you want her to press. You don’t have the words for it but you want more. You want it deeper.

As if she’s reading your mind, she slowly pushes one finger inside. You tense at the feeling of something entering you for the first time. It feels strange but far from bad. That same feeling that’s been following you not only returns but grows. She slowly pulls out before pushing back inside of you. You can’t steady your breathing. The feeling of stretching is disappearing, to be replaced by something much more hot than the dull ache that’s been plaguing you. She repeats the motions enough that you’re struggling to stay still. The fire inside of you is growing and you don’t know what to do with it. It’s torturous.

She doesn’t warn you when she uses a second finger. She pulls one out and pushes two in. A high-pitched gasp leaves you and you cling to the desk. Ms. Cobel makes a vaguely interested humming noise and then her fingers curl.

A noise you’ve never made before, loud and embarrassing, escapes you. You cover your mouth with one hand. Yes, she’s looking to see what the problem is and the problem is pleasure but surely you aren’t meant to be enjoying it this much? She still doesn’t make a comment. Her fingers slide in and then out of you, adjusting their angle slightly, and curl again. This time they touch something that sends sparks across your vision. You arch involuntarily, your hand muffling your cry. She does it again and your whole world shrinks to the hot pleasure. Something above where her fingers are is touched and another embarrassing noise escapes you.

“Good,” she assesses. 

The feeling inside you flares brighter. You feel something happening. Something coming closer, building inside of you. You don’t know what it is but you know you want it. You ache for it. 

Just as your about to reach it, she pulls her hand away. 

You barely swallow down a desperate “no”. You don’t want the pleasure to stop but it isn’t like she can do this all day. There isn’t an endpoint to this feeling, it only grows or lessens. You’re going to finish the meeting feeling like this no matter how long she continues. 

The understanding doesn’t stop the desperate want inside of you.

“Your reactions seem normal,” she says as she peels off the gloves. You blink slowly as you try to come back to yourself. It takes a moment but you manage to push yourself up onto shaky legs. You’re too overwhelmed to be relieved that you aren’t sick. “But they will need to be monitored. It’s easy for something like this to become a larger issue.” She throws the gloves in the bin.

“Do you mean this will happen again?” you ask, and your voice doesn’t come out as calm as you were hoping.

She said your reactions are normal so hopefully the…positive reaction you had won’t be something she feels the need to correct. She doesn’t answer your question. Unsurprisingly. She doesn’t like redundant questions.

“Straighten yourself out,” she says as she sits down.

You look down and try not to be too embarrassed at how rumpled your clothes are. You quickly pull on the end of your shirt to straighten it and smooth out your skirt. She waits until you’re done to say,

“Dismissed.”

Your legs still shake as you leave.

[celestialseawitch-ff]

Harry woke up to the feel of someone sliding his glasses off his face. He turned away as he grabbed them and settled them back on his nose. He opened his eyes and was unsurprised to find Hermione staring back at him.

“Hey,” he greeted in a dry whisper. He swallowed before turning and reaching over for one of the cups on the side table. He used his wand to fill it with water and turned to Hermione. “Drink.”

Hermione did as instructed, eyes never leaving his face. He got her to drink two more cups before she turned her head away. Harry drank no less than four cups of water before setting it aside. He grabbed one of the pink potions and brought it to her.

Hermione pouted at the sight of it. She drank it without complaint. 

“There we go. All done. Come here.”

He kissed her mouth and then slowly made his way down her neck. Her skin was still too warm, but nowhere near as hot as before. The relief he felt was bone deep. They were almost out the other side of this. Hermione was going to be okay. She was going to live.

“Harry.”

He hummed against her neck. She pushed her fingers into his hair and used her grip to tip his head back. Harry blinked up at her curiously.

“Hi,” she whispered.

Harry’s heart leapt. He didn’t dare move. “Are you with me?”

“A little,” she responded, still whispering. “I’m not sure how we got here?”

“You were given a potion. It’s got a strong effect.”

She frowned. “Were you… also potioned?”

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “No. You wanted me to help you through it and I agreed.”

Hermione moved to draw back. Harry pressed a hand to her back and pulled her closer. His fingers splayed across her naked flesh. A pretty blush rose to colour Hermione’s cheeks as her eyes widened.

“Harry,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harry felt himself start to harden. “We’re almost out the other side of this,” he promised.

Hermione’s leg shifted and he bit back a gasp as her skin stroked against him.

“You want me,” she whispered wonderingly. 

Harry swallowed down the guilt he felt towards his girlfriend as he truthfully said, “Yes.”

[svkbins]

( ✉️ )          @boraborav , @harmnv & @cxbauer han enviado:  🎾  para un starter donde nuestros personajes se encuentren cerca de la cancha de tenis.

por más que negativas habían sido entregadas al de más edad en su familia, aparentemente continuaba siendo susceptible a discursos y sin alternativas mas que ser parte de espectáculo se había apropiado de sitio vacío en gradas, diestra procurando rebote de pelota contra suelo distraídamente mientras sacaba provecho de rayos solares y minutos de libertad hasta asignación de competencia. párpados detrás de vuelven a revelar almendrados al detectar pasos aproximándose y muñeca detiene moción intercambiándole por desliz entre palmas. ' bienvenida al escondite. ' saluda en intento cómico que no alcanza realmente a decibeles, por lo menos no en totalidad y dedica primera mirada desde sitio. ' ¿ibas a practicar o querías un respiro? '

[rariath]

@harmnv , @cxbauer , @brxnvg : espero que al final, nos tengan un gran banquete porque terminaré hambrientx.

             “ ni idea, ojalá sólo salir de aquí hambrientos. la primera vez nos reunimos todos, alguien murió. en la segunda festividad, les drogaron — ” dios, poniéndolo así sí que era un súper pésimo historial y casi que se arrepiente de ponerlo en el universo en voz alta sin pensar antes. “ ¿cuál será la sorpresa hoy? apostemos ”  cejas se arquean con falso entusiasmo en lo que se abanica a sí misma con cansancio, tomando una bocanada de aire antes de volver a abrir la boca mientras mira a recién encontrada compañía: “ y depende. si servirán caviar pueden quedárselo al banquete, la verdad ” admite la rubia con un rápido encogimiento de hombros. ah, en verdad, apenas no tenía su uniforme puesto se olvidaba, a veces, que trabaja allí.

[ayakankmr]

''¿Qué pasaría si les digo que no quiero participar?'' ( @harmnv )

"Si a tu familia no le importan este tipo de eventos, supongo que nada". Reflexiona, sus hombros encogiéndose ligeramente en gesto relajado. "¿No te gustan las competencias deportivas?"

[seonarii]

''Espero me toque competir contra ti'' ( @harmnv )

"Ya somos dos". La mira de reojo, un tenue brillo competitivo asomándose mientras espera el anuncio de los equipos. "Así podré darte una arrastrada, en venganza por decir que el negro es un color triste".

[justasuta]

All the reformed girlies are here~!

I drew these last year, remakes from a previous series because the girls deserve it <3 Will these prints at Harmony Con, Babscon and other pony cons probs

[orbtii]

Scene spike and sci-twi at harmony con 2024!

Sci twi is @/sinfurss on insta! (Not sure if they have tumblr) GO CHECK THEM OUT they do AMAZING cosplay

[sam-sessington-the-third]

working on the way i draw her

[nival-art]

Done with this thing!

Also on Vimeo, and you can find me on Insta too

[atesbrn]

😮‍💨 : HARMONY ( @harmnv ) & ATES se cruzan al tomar un descanso en las mesas del JARDÍN.

los pasos acercandose le obligan a despertar de siesta, a esa hora que parecía ser de la merienda para los ricos le pareció el mejor momento para tomarse un descanso allí. esperaba no fuera su supervisor, incluso si no estaba en su horario, la costumbre ansiosa de ser atrapado fuera de su lugar, no se le quita. ' — gracias a los cielos, ' sisea de alivio, solo porque no la reconoce pero no está vestida como alguien de autoridad, al menos. ' ¿disfrutaron su... brunch? ' decide enmendar su falta de cortesía al tomar asiento de una forma más... educada, sonriendo a la contraria, ' en caso te lo preguntes, sí. es un exquisito lugar para una siesta. '

[chioth]

inclinó su cabeza ligeramente hacia la izquierda, en lo que intentaba pensar en alguna solución para su problema. sin embargo, no existía ningún deporte en el catálogo que fuera a premiar esa extraña habilidad. ‘ ¿en qué te anotaste? hay algunos que no tienen pelota ’ se rectificó entonces, deslizó con su izquierda la huincha que sostenía su coleta alta, necesitaba un descanso. ‘ como equitación, por ejemplo, ¿o las pelotas de los caballos también son un problema? ’ bromeó entre un par de risas.   

#. EN EL JARDÍN. harmony ( @harmnv ) / isabella ( @lsabellam ) dijo ‘ no me gustan tanto los deportes, mi cabeza siempre ha sido un imán para las pelotas ’