Latest Posts by gutter-bot - Page 4
Yeah! That thing!
Heavy is the chest that wears the tits or whatever
My creation!! I think I like this design. I was playing around with a few others but this one feels good.
OC scribbling...
She's so psychotic I love her ❤️✨️
Part 4🥀🩶
The tips of her digits ran along the seams of her client’s plating, noting the spots that made his field shudder. The mech was young (compared to the majority of their clientele), his mannerisms giving him away. He wasn’t nearly as cruel as most of the others… but time would change that. It always did. The politics of the high caste bred corruption, selfishness, entitlement. After being surrounded by it for long enough, they always seemed to adopt the same tendencies.
For now, however, she could savor his inexperience; reduce him to a pliant heap in her servos.
The parlor was filled with a number of patrons and their company, all engaged in varying levels of intimacy. Some were engrossed in their courtesans, and others preferred to watch. An open space for bots with more voyeuristic preferences. The mech who had sought her out seemed intrigued, if not a bit embarrassed. His optics darted around the room, dilating as he took in the lascivious acts on display. Under her wandering digits, his frame tensed.
Above the din of voices, another sound filtered through the room, a high, ethereal melody that rang clear as a bell. She smiled. The bot beneath her took note as well, helm tilting back toward the entrance the music was filtering through.
“Incredible, isn’t she?”
He nodded, seeming transfixed. “Yes… I’ve never heard something so lovely.” Then he came back to himself, suddenly looking rather sheepish. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… you – ah.”
She laughed, a genuine display of amusement for once. “Worry not. You are permitted to peruse the options all you like. It’s why you’re here, after all. To sample the delights of The Spire… and she is quite the delight, let me assure you.”
He grinned, nodding while casting another fleeting look toward the door.
Up the hall, the Inner Theatre would be filled from end to end – it always was when her lover took the stage. A voice like the heavens, enchanting all who had the pleasure to experience her song.
“I think I’d like to meet her,” he murmured.
“And meet her you shall… but not now. She will be indisposed for quite some time once her performance comes to an end.” Reaching forward, the scarlet femme cupped his face, coaxing it back toward hers. “For now… you’re all mine.”
The low, suggestive cadence of her voice made him tremble, and the click and whir of his cooling fans made her lips part in a knowing grin. Lowering her mouth, she sampled the cabling of his neck, noting the way his servos gripped her waist when she dipped her glossa in the joint of his collar. She shuttered her optics, and the image of him fell away, replaced by white and gold, a gaze as blue and vibrant as crystallized energon. Her Shining Star.
Their next meeting couldn’t be soon enough.
OC concept/progress.
Transformers are fuckin hard to draw, man!! My eyeballs are going to shrivel up like raisins from staring at a screen for so long...
OC concept art. Playing around with some color combos and so far this is what we've got.
2024 is the year where I make one Beast Wars sticker because god I love Airazor
I ship Waspinator with happiness
Part 3🩶🥀
Cables taught, she bowed herself into a tempting pose, helm tipped back, optics shut, mouth agape, creating the illusion of pleasure, a beautiful picture painted for her onlookers. Her frame spun in lazy, controlled circles, allowing everyone in the room a chance to see her. She twisted, artfully bending, placing limbs in ways that were not possible for most Cybertronian frames. But she was unlike them. Cold forged, altered, built specifically by the Masters to perform feats of enticement and pleasure not attainable anywhere else. It was a cruel existence, to be placed upon a pedestal as some beautiful thing, to have no say in who used you or how you were used. To know your life was always in the servos of those willing to pay the most. And not all of them were kind. Most were entitled, corrupt, careless, and violent… it was why appearances were so very important. This game was one of wits, persuasion, and desirability, and she played the game well.
Retracting the lines, she rose higher, weaving her legs through the cables and balancing herself inverted as she parted them, an impressive and lurid display that prompted several cheers. Her dance was a deadly one, the danger creating more intrigue than beauty alone ever could. Every move was calculated not only to entice her audience, but to ensure her safety. One wrong turn, even a nano-klik too late, could result in her frame ending up a battered wreckage upon the stage. And – if the damage was extensive enough – that would be the end of her. She was an object, after all, and should they decide she was not worth the investment to repair, she would be discarded, like so many before her, and another would take her place just as easily. She catches the optics of a mech she is familiar with, one who – while old and entitled and dreadfully pompous – was gentle. Or perhaps it was that he didn’t physically have it in him to be violent anymore. He looked as though a stiff wind might knock him off his pedes. Regardless of the reason, if she could entice him to bid, at least she could walk away from this encounter unscathed. The scarlet femme made certain to keep his gaze for a time before glancing past him, knowing the attention would please him. Luck was on her side this night. Many in attendance were regulars, with only a few new faces. While she could not yet be certain if any of them possessed the wealth to outbid him, the odds were favorable. Her best bet was to play the part she knew he liked, and hope his was the winning offer. Lowering herself to the stage, she unwound her cables from the beams above, drawing them back with a snap of her wrists. She spun slowly, kneeling as she did so until she came to rest on the cool tile, helm against the floor while the rest of her arched invitingly. Suggestively. Again, a round of approving cheers. Without making it appear she was favoring him, she moved to and fro, casting little looks at him whenever an opportunity arose. He hadn’t looked away, his expression intent, and she felt triumph unfurl in her spark. This appointment would belong to him, and she would live to see another sunrise. The dark, bitter part of her that had festered over so many millennia in such a cold and inhospitable environment delighted at knowing how many bots would walk away from this place with empty servos. Some would find company elsewhere, but many would leave to nurse their battered pride. It gave her a petty kind of joy to know they all wanted her, and only one would succeed in having her. The assortment offered at The Spire was carefully curated to meet every need imaginable, and of the variety of treasures to choose from, she was among the most sought after. Not because of her beauty, no – they were all lovely. Nor was it her aerial prowess or her dancing. She had learned long ago that the most valuable skill for any courtesan to have was the ability to read their patrons. And so she watched, learned, honing her craft. Clients, Masters, Keepers, even her peers, all of them became as easy to decipher as glyphs on a datapad. She recognized patterns in speech, body language, and actions, hearing the words between the words and recognize everything left unsaid. It was a skill she had mastered long ago, and she used it with the same painstaking precision as she used her grappling lines. When your life depended on pleasing those around you, knowing how to speak and how to act in times of intimacy (and otherwise) was the most valuable tool one could possess. It had made her into an optimal companion and had served her well for many orbital cycles, allowing her to keep herself – and those she cared about – alive. And she would continue to ply her skills for as long as she needed to, filing away whatever information she thought might be of use. Somehow, she would find a way to use those same skills to take her and her lover out of this place and make a better life for them. Until that time came, she waited, watched, and played the perfect part.
<3 Can't wait!
Thank you to everyone who tested the beta for my lil transformers erotica game yesterday <3
Part 2 🩶🥀
The Spire’s patron list was extensive and elite, comprised of Cybertron’s most influential and wealthy. Being admitted into the establishment was a status symbol all on it’s own, an accomplishment that few outside of the high castes would ever hope to achieve. Guild members, decorated military officials, and heads of important functions frequented the brothel often, at times bringing with them promising new additions. The Master’s, while enthused by their success, could hardly keep up with the demand this produced, a demand that weighed most heavily on the courtesans. Their schedules were rigid, the Keepers ensuring no time was spent idle. During busy periods, it was not uncommon for them to go several orns without rest, and on minimal refueling. These stretches were nearly unbearable, not for the workload. Rather, it left no opportunity to indulge in more enjoyable activities. Her lover’s soft gasp filled her audials, field shuddering, skating across her own in the most delicious way. “Not too loudly.” A light smack on the arm was her reward for the taunt, vivid cyan optics narrowed accusingly in her direction. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t be so – ah! Insistent!” “But you like it when I’m insistent.” Her lover’s responding hum was light and airy, slim frame lax and pliant against her. The smaller femme tilted her helm back, arching up to press their mouths together in a hungry kiss. It was over all too quickly, and her lip components twisted into a disappointed grimace. “We should go. I have a client coming soon.” Wrapping her arms possessively around the other’s slight waist, she pleaded, “Only a little longer. Who knows when we will get a chance like this again.” “We might get caught.” Defiant, she squeezed harder. “We are made to please, why shouldn’t we chase our own delights?” Her lover’s expression grew wistful, and she turned in her arms to reach up and clasp her face between caressing servos. “You know that’s not how it works. If they find us, we both get punished.” The thought of her gentle lover brought to harm filled her with unease, her spark tightening in her chassis. She covered the smaller servos with her own, tilting her helm to place a kiss against the tips of their digits. “It’s not fair. We should leave… you and I… and never look back. Then no one will keep us apart.” “And where would we go? There is no place for us… no place but here. And here is far better than where we might end up if we tried to flee.” A pause. “It’s not so bad,” the white and gold femme replied, ever the optimist. “After all, our presence here allowed us to find one another.” The unrest in her quieted at the reminder, and she bent down to gently press their foreheads together. “You, Star of my Spark, are the only thing that makes any of this worth enduring.” “Then be patient, my Scarlet Flower. We will have other chances, better chances… where time is on our side.” Venting in defeat, she released the smaller bot, allowing her to step away. “Until then.” “Until then.” She watched as her lover exited the parlor and stepped out into the hall, filled with jealousy at the thought that someone else – some unworthy aristocrat – would get to hold her, touch her. The thought made her tanks churn bitterly. For a moment she stood, waiting, willing away the anger. It would not serve her well. After enough kliks had passed, she too took her leave, glancing up the hall toward the Inner Theatre. Music slipped down the passageway, along with the sounds of approving spectators. Helm tilted down, she placed her servos behind her back, palms open, and made her way toward them.
Drawing robots makes me nervous. They're organic shaped but not, and attempting to make them look semi organic while not overdoing it is terrifying. Drawing hands also makes me nervous. Drawing robot hands makes me super duper extra nervous. How some of yall make it look effortless is mind blowing.
Ugh!
More OC related content.
Hands always scare me so I wanted to get them out of the way... 😭💀
She got them bird talons goin on.........
![EarthSpark Bumblebee :]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e98903a3f55eaac3dfd6568113bb1a5a/49dee250ad2b36bc-8c/s500x750/9216920f0ee68842f0bdc3aca71d31fa97729c09.png)
TFP Optimus dragging TFP Megatron to anger management post war
That could be immensely funny if it's just a normal anger management group lol
Shamelessly plugging my own OC here... trying to get some semblance of my shit together with this blog so I can use it to engage with other blogs. Eventually will have art and details up, but for now starting with a good old fashion origin story.
Countless optics slid over her as she passed by, some gazes fleeting, others not. Those that lingered were assessing, measuring, judging. She kept her helm tucked low, expression giving nothing away but the appearance of calm. Paying them no mind, she cut her way through the swath of patrons that occupied the Grand Salon, noting they seemed busier than usual. Others like her milled expertly, Keepers directing guests according to their desired experiences. Larger parties were ushered into separate parlors for entertainment, and couples or smaller groups toward the upper floors where the private rooms were situated.
She entered a lift, along with a cluster of others, noticing the mech to her right seemed rather interested in her status. The patches adoring his glossy pauldron suggested a high-ranking Elite Guard. Turning in a tight circle as she moved to face the door, she ensured her servos – both closed into neat fists behind her back – would be visible to him. Noting this, he glanced away, expression momentarily displaying his disappointment until the pretty little mech already hanging off his side snagged his attentions once more.
Her own optics swept the crowd below as the pod ascended, tracing the slim fingers of golden light that spilled through high, towering windows. The floor, a complex mosaic of reflective slabs, cast the sun’s rays into every corner of the vaulted room, where it caught against the intricate detailing that accented columns and framed doorways, making them gleam. She glanced down at the fragile metal mesh draped over her. The delicate crystals fixed into the garment were made to catch that same light with every subtle, tinkling shift, sending a myriad of colored pinpricks dancing across nearby surfaces. A deliberate addition, to snare the attention and interest of their clients.
Exiting the lift on one of the upper floors, she pressed on in silence, husky promises and tittering laughter falling away as – pair by pair – the others branched off into their own rooms.
The final stretch of hallway was mercifully empty, and she slowed her pace, savoring every moment of peace - of solitude - as she closed the distance between herself and the room at the end of the corridor, where her client awaited. The soft, tinny clack of her heel struts against the tile echoed faintly, their frequency and tone reminiscent of a death knell. Fitting, as these walks always felt a little like an execution march.
She paused a moment at the door, glancing up to catch her reflection in the polished metal as she lifted a servo to knock. A vision of perfect contentedness… but inside… a yawning, empty chasm that longed to be filled. Her spark was a restless thing in her chassis, always hungry. Desperately so. Why? She had everything she needed; much more than so many others, as the Masters liked to remind them. Draped in the most luxurious finery, surrounded by opulence… attending lords, council members, and bots from walks of life that most could only dream of meeting. So why didn’t she want any of it? Was she flawed? Was there anything that could satiate the desperate, aching need for something she couldn’t name that chiseled away at her?
She closed her optics, silencing the riot in her processor and composing herself as she allowed her digits to rap gently but crisply against the ornate slab. A voice, soft and low, bid her enter.
“This is all I need,” she told herself – the lie cold and bitter on her glossa.
probable tfp quotes:
Knockout - *laughter escapes him in uncontrollable bursts as he looks at an image on his datapad*
Stascream - *rolls his optics* Primus-fragging-blessed, what ridiculous human nonsense are you perusing now?!
Knockout - *venting hard* I just found an Earth-cat that resembles Lord Megatron!
Starscream (exasperated) - You've got to be kidding me? That's what's got you in such a-
Knockout- *turns datapad toward Starscream*
Starscream - *chokes on his sentence and immediately doubles over, wheezing so hard he sounds like a gay kettle*
Why indeed?
Ratchet, to Wheeljack: It’s like you’re involving me in crime, and I let you. Why do I let you?
the ides of march is taking place at the white house this year
Yes it can...
June Darby x Arcee can be called Arby's
Taking requests!
I am looking to do more writing in the Transformers fandom and would love to try a variety of themes, series, characters, pairings, etc. Not limited to mutuals, anyone can request (yes even anon requests will be taken). Keep in mind these will be oneshots - unless the chemistry is right and my brain decides a oneshot won't do.
Nothing is off the table as of yet, NSFW content, dark themes, etc. If I am uncomfortable with a topic or particular kink I will dm the sender to discuss (unless it's done under anon, in which case my hands are a bit tied)
Requests should/could include:
Character(s) you want featured (if it's for an OC please give me physical descriptions and personality, or direct me to a page that contains this information)
Pairings
Series (IDW, TFO, TFA, etc)
Specific topic or scenario you want covered
If you're looking for spice, please indicate the level of spice
Anything you might NOT want included (triggers)
Again, this is just for fun. Just a writer wanting to dabble in areas of the fandom I may not have dabbled in otherwise.
(This is essentially going to stay open indefinitely unless I get flooded - unlikely - and need to pause until I can catch up).
Mmm me likey when shes murdery
Arcee I could never resist... no Ultra Magnus can tell you how to live your life...
