#the long con....the bait and switch....

[beemovieerotica]

im really out here with 30,000 words of an ostensibly Stede/Ed fic, but Mary and Spanish Jackie are getting an explicit sex scene before Stede and Ed even hold hands, and that's really what feminism is all about

[signedaiko]

begging- BEGGING PLEASSEE!!

for a Bumblee Bee x Decepticon reader who’s short like him but more timid than their comrades. Like they mess up on missions, but they can be snappy too and fast like Bumblebee! I imagine him chasing them in a fun cat and mouse and accidentally takes it like a fun game. all scaring the heck out of them as he catches up with a smile. He would start crushing on them and just says things like it’s a fun idea “you should totally switch sides! Join us!” And the reader is all bewildered but wary.

Bumblebee [Animated]

In which the small bot finds a con just about his size that he wants to spend more time with.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Decepticon. Romantic.

Bee has a fair few con encounters now that he is fighting for Earth

Usually they were against the likes of Blitzwing, Lugnut, and the odd Starscream

But you were new; you were something that paled in size but made up for in interest

You were mostly known for your ability to distract; that's right, the cons used you as a lure on purpose

You were small, nimble, decently fast, and as Random had once told you;

"You have the face of an Autobot!"

Autobots thought you were an easy target, easy to manipulate, perhaps less smart

But you were dedicated to the cause, and while you hated being bait and preferred your spot on intelligence collection, you were happy to do whatever Megatron wished of you

Usually, it was fine

But recently, the yellow one had gotten too close, and he was only getting better at catching up to you

Telling the cons you were scared was out of the question, but it was seriously concerning how obsessive it had become

Every time you made yourself visible to the Bots, he was racing towards you with a smile and a hand extended, like he expected you to reach out and accept him just like that

More recently, you were worried he'd actually catch you

Racing down a frozen-over river as thick snow slowly fell from the sky, leafless trees whizzing past your vision as your peds left compacted snow marks behind you

He had special wheels made for snow, but you didn't, and he was fast behind you, yelling some more of his pleas

"Aren't you tired of running? I just wanna talk!"

He sounded so young, certainly near your age, someone you could get along with had it not been for the war

But what if it was only a trick? What if he only played this game for his own amusement?

You'd long since called Blitzwing to help get you, since you couldn't fly, and he was on his way, but visibility was low with all the snow, fog, and your distant location

You had to keep running, but Bee was only a few meters behind by now; you could hear the snow crunching beneath his tires

"C'mon! Join the bots! We can race like this more often on real roads!"

He offered again, but you refused

"You make it sound easy; how about you just join the cons?"

You were just as snappy, though

Just as he got on your heels and transformed, digits inches away from grabbing your arm, you jumped up and grabbed onto the wing of the purple and tan jet that swooped down, dragged away from his reach in seconds

He stopped in his tracks and groaned, but his smile never left

"Next time, then!"

Authors Note - This prompt is so cute!!! It honestly reminds me of a Blitzwing fic I read by @vhaos-chaotic-writing that was him being yandere and kinda doing the same!

[probablyintensemuses]

Hey, Brother

Armando Aretas

🎧- Story of My Life: One Direction

summary: Armando’s your older brother, here’s how you meet, past and present.

themes: extreme angst and fluff. A bit of violence. But mostly found family and sibling love.

authors note: completely convinced he’d be an amazing older brother. There is a 8 year age gap between reader (20) and Armando (28). Also shout out to my older brother…I wuv you 💞😭 Also yes I know i switched a few things around. Just enjoy it. If you want a part two, lemme know!

Read Part two here

Four Years Ago

Miami Florida University

The night on campus was quiet, the only things to be heard were the comforting trill of crickets and the soft waves of the ocean, only three miles out from the college.

Armando sat idle on his motorcycle, twelve beats away from where he’d been told you, their next victim, worked.

This entire time he’d been killing people in the name of the Aretas family, he couldn’t understand why Mike Lowery, some beat cop came last. And why his mother was resorting to taking his daughter as bait.

What made Mike so important that he deserved a fight for his life, for your life?

“Mamá, no entiendo, ¿por qué ella?” Armando says through his phone.

Isabel sighs on the other end. “Con el tiempo, hijo mío.”

“She’s just a kid.” Armando sighs, pulling out his ipad and looking at your photos again.

From what he gathered, your were a first year nursing student here at MFU, you got great grades, danced for a kpop club, and worked part time at the cafe he was currently parked out side of.

But most importantly, you were Mike Lowery’s daughter.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t matter.

But for some reason, to his mother, it did.

“She's a pawn,’ Isabel hisses. “Mike necesita conocer el dolor de la pérdida; this will show him.”

Armando nods, taking a deep breath, feeling the same incorrigible anger rising up in his pit again at the sound of Mikes name.

This man had stolen everything from him: his family, his dynasty…his father.

Though his didn’t understand his mother’s methods, he’d never question her madness.

This man took everything from them, it’s time he learned that same pain, and as much as he didn’t enjoy hurting innocent… you were the key to getting even.

“Lo haré mamá.” Armando said, watching you finally exit the cafe.

“Muy bien.” Isabel said, hanging up.

Armando pushed off on his bike, riding a bit down the narrow street before hanging a right and turning back around.

Out of his pocket, he pulled out a needle. Whatever was in there was strong enough to knock out a bear, so it should have no problems sending you, a small college freshman, into a deep sleep.

Swiftly, he drives forward, accelerating until he just passes you before he makes an abrupt stop, cutting your path off.

You fall back and onto your ass.

You help as you hit the pavement, lifting your small hands to access the damage that had been caused by you cradling your fall.

You hiss at your bleeding palms before looking up at Armando in sheer disgust.

The heat of your gaze causes Armando to flip up the visor on his helmet, something in your eyes giving him pause.

He wasn’t a vain person in the slightest, but something about your eyes, when he looked in the mirror, they were so similar to his own that it nearly startled him. They were the same shade of chocolate brown covered by thick, dark lashes.

His observation of you quickly dries as your curse at him. “What the hell, dude! You could have killed me!”

Armando doesn’t say anything, instead he offers you a hand.

Reluctantly, you take it.

Just as your nearly up, Armando pricks you with the needle.

Your face drops as you snatch your hand away from him.

You look down at your palm, a single trail of blood dribbling down your wrist from the spot he pricked you at.

“What the fuck,’ you wobble, turning to run down an ally.

Armando watches as you attempt to flee, he knew it wouldn’t be long before you passed out.

And as he predicted, ten steps in and you were slumped against the moist ally ground.

He picks you up, slinging you across his shoulders, carrying you towards his bike and driving off into the night.

Later…

When you awoke, you found yourself bound to a chair in a large, abandoned house. You wiggle against the binds, only scathing your wrist even more.

You scream out, panic rising in your chest as your breaths shorten.

"Help!" You scream. "Someone help me!"

"Help is on the way, princessa.' A slick voice says.

You turn and see a beautiful woman taking slow, slutry steps down the staircase towards you.

"Who the hell are you?" You croak, scooting away from her the best you can in this damn chair.

The woman, grips your chair with one hand, while running another through your curls. "Your fathers la venganza.” She hissed.

“Don’t touch me,’ you bite. “And my father did nothing wrong, you’re lying.”

Isabel grips your chin, hard. You try and wiggle free but it’s no use as she pulls you close.

She turns your head from side to side, the warm evening sun causing a glint in your eyes.

“Always the eyes,’ she mumbles. “He gives all of his children his eyes.”

“What?” You question, breathlessly.

Isabel forcefully lets you go, leaving a sore spot on your chin.

Your mind reels around her words and the weight of them.

She was your father’s revenge, why? And had she been the one to shoot him all those months ago?

And all of his children. Your father only had one child, you.

Looking around the wear house and seeing all the sage and candles burnt, the circles and alters, you could tell that whoever this woman was, she was crazy and you wanted no parts.

The thought was enough to make a few screams come out of you.

You stamp your foot against the ground, “Let me go! Let me the fuck go!”

Isabel rolls her eyes at you, mumbling something in Spanish before she shouts, “Armando, ven a llevarla antes de que la mate yo mismo.”

Quickly, the man for the other night emerges.

“No,’ you scoot back in your chair as far as you could. “No.”

The man, Armando, grabs you out of your chair and drags you up the staircase.

At the top of the staircase, he slices your binds loose but still has a good hold on you.

Now, you by no means are a good fighter, but with your dad being police, you know a few things.

So as Armando unlocks a door, presumably to put you in, you stamp on his foot as hard as you can.

Armando yelps at the sensation, doubling over, giving you enough time to kick him in the legs and send him down on the ground.

As soon as he hits the floor you take off, running down the steps as fast as you can.

In the foyer, you check for the exit in front of you, but the door is locked.

Your head is buzzing, you didn’t have much time as Armando would be up soon, probably ready to kill you, and that Isabel, who knew what she’d do if she caught you.

You had to move fast, and the window behind you, seemed like your best bet.

You scurried over me to it, working frantically as you tore wooden planks off the window.

You about all got your face out the window before strong arms wrap around your waist living and pushing your back.

You scream as you hit the ground, coming face to face with a less than pleased Armando.

“Enough games!” He shouts.

You crawl backwards, afraid he’ll hit you…or worse.

“Okay!’ You whimper. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” You squeak as he towers over your shaking body.

You fully expect him to return the blows you’d given him earlier, but to your surprise he doesn’t. He just grabs you up again and takes you back to that same room.

Shoving you inside he gives you a parting word.

“Do that shit again, and I won’t save you.” He slams the door, leaving you alone in a windowless room, wondering how you’ll end up dead.

In all the enemies your father has had, none of them had mad it a personal mission to kidnap you…so why had they?

Fingers toiling with the dirt around you, it finally clicked.

This was a set up.

You were bait.

And just as fate would have it, you could hear what sounded like your father and Marcus crowding in the foyer downstairs.

You stood up, running towards the door and banging on it like a madwoman.

“Help! Dad! Uncle Marcus!” You shout, slamming your fist against the door.

When the door flies open, you expect to see one or both of them there, but you see Armando.

“Come on.” He grabs you. “Nice and easy.” He places a gun to your temple.

“Stop, why are you doing this?” You whimper, taking careful steps down the stairs.

“Why did your father start it, hm, princesa?” He questions, pulling you in front of your family.

“Dad!” You shout, tears pooling from your eyes.

“Let her go, Armando!’ He shouts, turning to Isabel who stands elated. “She’s a kid.”

“We were all kids once, Mike. It’s why she must have her turn.” Isabel says.

Mike shakes his head, drawing his gun at her, Marcus doing the same to Armando.

“You kill me, he kills her.” Isabel shrugs.

Marcus adds, “then I’ll kill him.”

“Then it’ll be a blood bath.”

You whimper, “please don’t hurt me.”

Armando tightens his grip on you. “Cállate.”

“I just want to go home, daddy.” You cry.

Mikes hand shakes as he hears your pleas. “I know, baby, and we will.”

Isabel smacks her lips. “Liar!” She shouts, lunging at Mike.

Mike dodges the hit, but Marcus’s gun going off starts a cataclysmic event.

Everyone who wants present before suddenly emerging from the darkness and letting off their weapons.

You scream, falling back into Armando, who lifted you off the ground with one hand while shooting with the other, as the chaos erupts around you.

“Marcus!’ Mike yells. “Get Isabel, I’ll get my daughter!”

Marcus sprints, to the best of his ability, after Isabel, while Mike makes full way towards Armando.

In a dark room, Armando drops you, pushing you into a corner.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” He threatens.

You whimper in a comply.

You hear your father, Mike, burst through the doors, calling your name.

You do as Armando says, though, keeping quiet, afraid anything you do or say will get you and Mike hurt…or worse.

You watch from the dark corner as your father searches the room, only seconds later Armando jumps him, landing a blow.

You watch from the sidelines as they traded blows back and forth.

And it hurt to watch your father in a fight, it did, but what hurt most? The words slipping from his mouth.

“Armando,’ he said. “I’m your father.”

Your head was buzzing, spinning.

What the fuck did he mean this man was his son? How was that even possible?

Your heart raced as you watched Armando’s face fall, confusion lacing every corner.

“You’re lying,’ he said lading another blow, bending down and dragging your father out of the room and into the burning hallway.

You weren’t sure if it was adrenaline or curiosity, but you needed to see this through, hear it for yourself.

You push to stand and creep after them.

Armando has your father at the ledge, his shirt balled up working his hands.

“Last chance,’ he croaks, eyes searching. “Who are you?”

“I just told you.”

“Lie again.” Armando growled, wrapping his hand around your fathers neck, applying pressure.

You gasped, stepping forward, but a hand cautioned you to stay hidden.

You turn, finding Marcus’s comforting eyes as he mouths, “Don’t do it.”

"He needs us," you whisper in protest, Marcus's arm staying firm on yours.

"They need this, just wait."

You relax, only a little watching the scene unfold.

"Ask your mother if you don't believe me." Mike croaks.

Armando turns, loosening his grip on Mike, and in a turn of lightning, Isabel appears, mumbling in Spanish.

"Es verdad lo que dice?" Armando questions his mother.

Isabel shrugs. "No es importante. Mátalo.' her eyes drag over to where you and Marcus stand. "Entonces ellos."

Armando shakes his head in frustration. "Es mi papá?"

Isabel's eyes darken, her words fleeing her mouth more rapidly. "

"Is he my father!" Armando shouts.

Something in the way your father laid limp in Armando's graps, the fire and smoke building around you all, and the life you once knew just yesterday crumpling around you had you desperate for the truth.

"Tell him!" You shout.

Isabel pays you no mind when she says, "yes."

Three letters.

One word.

That was all it took for your world to shatter.

You had a brother you hadn't known about, a brother who drugged and kidnapped you.

all of his children have his eyes.

A brother your father had behind you and your mother's back.

The realization made your mind splinter, picking up in your chest with each shortened breath you took.

Tears pooled in your eyes, making the scene in front of you blur and sharpen, wax and wane.

It's not until a shout and commotion caused you to dial back in, where you find Isabel pointing the barrel of her gun directly at your chest.

You're too frozen to move and put your hands up to brace yourself for the pain, for death.

But it never comes.

only the sounds of four shots ringing out and blaring in your ears, that's the only sensation you get.

You move your hands from your eyes and find Isabel falling over the balcony to her death and Armando on the floor, his shirt filling with blood as Mike, Marcus, and Rita crowd around him.

It clicks then for you, he took that bullet for you, he stepped in for you against his mother.

This family was dysfunctional as hell.

"Get over here!' your father calls out to you. "Now!"

You scurry over, tearing off your flannel and placing it on Armando's wound.

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Rita shouts.

"Go with Rita!" Mike shouts towards you.

You nod, locking hands with Rita and rushing out of the burning building.

Once outside, you look behind yourself to find Mike and Marcus dragging Armando's body and placing him on the ground, applying pressure to his wounds.

The rain clouds your vision as you draw closer to the van waiting to take you away and back home.

"Is he going to be okay?" You ask, holding your wet and naked arms.

Rita sighs, ushering you into the car. "I don't think that's something you should have to worry about.' She smiles softly. "Get some rest, kid. Okay?"

You nod and shut the door, feeling the car jerk before it pulls off and away from the chaos.

You fasten your seatbelt and lean your head back against the headrest.

Perhaps Rita was right, maybe worrying about Armando wasn't such a good idea. Maybe it was best for you to shove it down and let your dad deal with it, like he did everything.

Because you didn't think your heart could handle any more than what it was already going through. Thinking about Armando, your father, and Isabel...it would only weigh you down more.

So you decided to leave them all at that building that night, to burn up in the flames.

At least you tried to...

Four Years Later

Miami Florida University

"Please tell me you're coming to this party tonight?" Your friend, Kiesha, asked over the phone.

You chuckle, climbing the last flight of stairs to your apartment. Your father, Mike, had got it for you as gift for being in your last year of college.

“I can’t, sorry.’ You place the key code to your apartment and the door unlocks. “Lots of studying to do.” You half-lie.

“Girl, all you do is study. You know college is not actually for school.” You can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

You drop your bags on the counter, pulling out a pack of ramen noodles and starting a pot of boiling water.

“That’s easy to say for someone who’s only half majoring in, what is it, communications?” You comment.

The line goes silent for a minute before Keisha comes back.

“Wow,’ she scoffs. “I get that you’re stressing out with finals and you know, your dad being a fucking fugitive and all, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

You run a hand through your hair, it getting tangled within your curls towards the end.

“Kiesh,’ you groan.

“Save it. Have fun studying.” She grumbles before hanging up.

“Fuck!’ You shout, turning and tossing your phone down the hallway.

Your grip at your hair and tug slightly, shutting your eyes you feel a hot tear slip out.

It had been a whole week since your father and uncle Marcus were deemed fugitives and accused of doing God knows what. It had been hard for you and Christine.

Knowing your father, you knew the allegations weren’t true, but another cover up, same as Captain Howard.

Still, you know it was bullshit meant nothing to the “adults” in charge. They saw him as guilty, and that seemed to be the end of it.

You turn, wiping away your tears and placing your ramen into the boiling pot of water.

It wasn’t the best, but it was all you could stomach these days, the fear of your family's future causing your appetite to slim.

You twirling the noodles in the water with a pair of chopsticks, watching the five minute timer chime by. It all but captivated you into a trance until a creak against the floor caught your attention.

You turn your head, peering down the hallway you had just thrown your phone. Staring into the darkness, you see a figure moving towards you slowly.

You gasp, grabbing a large knife and holding it out in front of you with shaky hands.

You would call for help, but unfortunately your phone was in harms way.

“Don’t come any closer,’ you squeak.

The figure doesn’t respond, it just trudges closer and closer to you until it’s emerged into your kitchen lighting.

At first, you have to squint real hard to make out who it is, but then, when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, so hauntingly like your own, you know who exactly it is.

Your brother, Armando.

You don't drop the knife, keeping it held high as you slowly approach him. You'd seen how vicious he was, and you weren't taking any chances with him.

Closing the space between you two, you could see that he's in full tactical gear, covered in blood.

He takes another step towards you, you step back, before collapsing onto the ground and passing out.

You rush towards his side. “What the hell!” You rip open his vest, finding all kinds of stab wounds and lacerations littering his body. “Armando!” You shake him.

He doesn’t respond, you shake him again, harder this time, and a tiny black book falls out.

You open the book and find your address on one sheet and another sheet addressed to you.

Don’t hate me, babygirl. I’ll explain everything soon, until then, you two lay low.

Be strong for me.

Love, Dad.

You could scream, you could actually fucking scream right now.

No way this motherfucker sends this other motherfucker to your house for you to nurse back to health.

You crumple up your father’s note, chucking it across the room.

Looking down at Armando, you watch the slow rise and fall of his chest as he lay unconscious.

It was obvious he was loosing blood, and you could let him bleed out and pretend you tried everything.

But then again, he saved your life before…and he didn’t even know you.

Guilt tugged in your chest at the thought.

“Fuck.” You breathed, throwing your head back.

You knew what you had to do.

You figured lifting him would be hard, he was bigger than you by a long shot and was basically deadweight.

You tapped him, shook him, slapped him…hard, but nothing woke him up.

Looks like you’d be operating on the floor.

You stood, gathering your curls in a pineapple on your head, and headed to your bathroom.

You grabbed all the first aid kit supplies you could find, fresh clothes, a blanket and pillow, before heading back out to the main part of your apartment.

You slipped on some gloves, cut open his shirt, and began working on his wounds, dressing them and putting on bandages.

Thank God for nursing school and clinicals.

It took you two bowls of ramen, a Celsius, and a whole heck of a lot of bandages and gorilla glue, but you got Armando mostly patched up.

You wiped the sweat of your forehead grabbing the pillow and blankets you’d grabbed.

You gently lifted his head placing the pillow underneath and the blanket on top of him.

Next to his body you placed the fresh clothes, Gatorade, protein bars, and a bottle of water.

When you finally stood, you felt woozy and in need of a shower and sleep yourself.

But before you crept off to take your shower, you stood over Armando, taking in his features.

His dark hair, his smooth skin, his nose, and lips. He looked like a Spanish version of your father and it was freaking you the fuck out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You walked away hoping your father’s explanation was coming soon because, you may have just saved his life on the conscious fact that he’d done the same for you, but he was still dangerous…and who knows what would happen to you when he wakes up.

The next morning, when you wake up, you creep out of your bedroom, peaking to see if Armando had moved at all.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

You release a heavy sigh, walking over towards his body.

You watch his chest rise and fall, faster than last night.

Good.

At least your dad couldn’t kill you for letting his son die.

You lean in a big closer to Armando, checking out his wounds from a far.

One wound had opened it seemed like.

You turn and grab the gorilla glue and a bandage of your counter.

Completely removing one bandage, you toss it to the side, pinching the skin of his chest while prepping the glue.

You’re just about to glue his would shut again, when his arm shoots up, gripping your wrist.

You scream, falling back on your ass.

Armando’s eyes shoot open and he sits up quick in a panic.

You crawl backwards, away from him, bumping into the cabinet .

Armando groans, rubbing his sore torso and arms.

His eyes skate across the room before they find yours.

He jumps back a little. “¿Qué diablos me hiciste?”

You swallow, holding your knees. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

Armandos eyes widen then narrow. “Did you do this to me?” He says, accessing his bandages.

You hesitate to tell him the truth…would he be mad and hurt you again?

Armando must sense the hesitation. “I’m not going to hurt you,’ he groans, slowly standing up. “It’s just a question.”

You nod, backing away from him. “Yes…I did.”

Armando swipes up the bottle of water, chugging it, tossing it aside, and then going for the Gatorade. “Gracias.” He grumbles, heading towards your bathroom.

You stand, slowly following after him, still keeping some distance between you two.

Armando peers over his should, eyebrow raised. “Mike sent me, if you’re wondering.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here.”

“I never said that.” You clarify, even though he’s not wrong.

“Don’t need to.”

You frown. “Armand—,”

He slams the door shut.

“Great.” You roll your eyes. “Just fucking great.”

You slam your head against the wall, thinking off all the ways you would tell your dad off when you saw him next. But until then, it seemed you and Armando would be roommates.

So you should try and be cordial, right?

[artbyblastweave]

If I were doing a Marvel timeline reboot thing, I would do the bait-and-switch of introducing Mysterio as a member of the superhero community in good standing- abeit one with a Booster-Gold air of loveable skeeviness to him- and then I would drop a bunch of red-herring hints implying he's a massive traitor in the usual manner, none of which would ever pan out. And then I would do the big finish for the whole continuity, I mean whatever the A-plot is, and it would just never seriously involve Mysterio outside of crowd shots, leaving the audience hanging in perpetuity as to whether the untwist was that he was seriously a hero for real this time around, or whether this is just what it looks like from the outside when he perpetuates a major long-term con of some kind successfully.

[merbear25]

Hellow, Hope you're doing well ^^ <3 May i ask for our dearest Mad scientist for the Halloween event ? The Great and infamous Caesar Clown ; ( 4 ) in an abandonned hospital ; with Truth or dare 💋; with a female x reader ? You can go SFW or NSFW as you want, feel free to write it as you want ~ I love your wittings and works ! i can't wait to see what you'll cook this time ! As usual you're gonna surprise me/us ! Good luck and happy scary Month !!! Art by @NANAYAkokonotsu on twitter

This...this is what happens when you give me full rein with my muse. The terrifically creepy picture helped though. I hope you like it. 🧡💜

The creepy crawlies that scurried past offered more than a panic induced shriek. They also contained fluids that held so much potential for whomever knew what to do with them, and this place was crawling with unrecognized promise. You were plucked from your duties and placed under the watchful eye of the one you took orders from, each request being stranger than the last.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, breast play, tit job, dark themes: fear play, dub con, mentions of insects, experiments, and death

Go on. I dare you. (Caesar)

“Mind your step.” The call trailing over your shoulder was more out of annoyance than concern for your safety.

You looked down to see a long centipede scurrying in front of your feet. Swallowing the urge to yelp, you quickly threw it in a spare jar. You heard a chuckle from behind you, making the dead air go cold.

“And here I thought you’d be able to handle helping me. You haven’t lost your use now, have you?” The question bit into you more than any canines ever could.

“No!” You spat out. “Of course not. Just… caught me off guard is all.” Your eyes glanced to the side to meet his two yellow orbs burning into you with the intensity of the sun.

But then, as if a switch was flipped, his demeanor shifted into one more playful. No matter how friendly the smile he wore was, there was no mistaking the sinister aura exuding from him. “No?” His purple lips stretched into a smile. 

Your eyes darted away from his, not wanting him to see the nerves pinching at your face.

“Hmm, somehow I don’t believe you. How should we fix that?” He drummed his fingers on his chin, feigning to be deep in thought. With the decrepit walls sealing you in, the possibilities flourishing in his dastardly mind were endless. “Oh, I’ve got an idea.” His tone was deep and dragged out of him.

The hair stood up on the back of your neck as the tension hung in the air. “Truth or dare?”

Even with every fiber of your being telling you to choose the safe option, he was obviously testing you. You were being baited to prove yourself to him and rid him of these rising conflictions of why he was keeping you around.

“Dare.” When that single word left your mouth, the soft tapping of the millions of insects within your proximity fled.

“Let out that centipede you caught earlier.” His voice was soft, pulling you into a false sense of security. When your face scrunched from the unnerving rattling within the jar, the final part flowed past his lips. “And let it crawl on you.”

Your hand shook slightly and your breath quickened. You couldn’t refuse, not when you already felt as if you were on thin ice. Hesitantly, you unscrewed the container and held in your scream as the pointy legs scaled up your arm and under the back of your hair. Down your back it went, while you stood paralyzed with fear.

The legs dancing along your skin were too much. Their pinching ends against your sensitive flesh caused you to shake violently in a desperate attempt to get it off. With your heart still racing, you managed to jar it once again. Your huffs and puffs from the adrenaline rush were barely given a chance to soften as he laughed at your misfortune.

“Not too bad, not at all.”

“It’s my turn, right?” Your breaths were still shaky.

“Hmm? Oh, right. Go on then.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” His answer felt insulting after what he’d just made you do.

The frown you had was involuntary, and yet he couldn’t help but chuckle again. He continued down the hall, albeit slowly, you absentmindedly followed him. “What do you have planned for these insects?”

His eyes sparkled with excitement at your curiosity. “Well, only those gifted enough to see their potential can truly understand my plans but to put it simply, I’m going to use their extracts to create a poison with the most horrific side effects.”

Before you had a chance to even want him to elaborate, he shoved the question “truth or dare” at you. His gaze had you in a stranglehold, placing dread that you had an unspoken expectancy to choose the more dangerous option.

He drifted further down the hall to the rusty door at the end. The bitter cold of the basement nipped at your very core. Without realizing it, he’d lured you further into the depths of this hospital that was long since forgotten.

Sighing, he straightened his posture, which gave you a reminder of how feeble you looked in comparison. “You know, there were many hospitals in this area that were forced to build morgues due to the increase of disease. So many perished.” A hint of romanticism laced his words. “And, well, keeping them in the basement just added to the necessary cooling effects.”

His eyes held onto you as he pushed the door open. The black void in front of you could only really be identified by the smell—death. The fluorescent lights flickered as they strained to turn on. One in the far corner cracked from the old wires. Grayish tiles covered the walls and floors—once white but now stained with mildew.

He leaned down by your ear, his breath hot. “That one.” His long arm stretched out from over your shoulder, lazily pointing at the only remaining cooler to be closed. “Get in it.”

You trembled as he placed his other hand on your shoulder. “I-I can’t,” you whispered.

“What’s that? Can’t?” His lips brushed against your ear as he delivered a tinge of threat. “Oh, dear, that won’t do.”

“No, please!” You broke away from his grip. Your legs trembled and your lip quivered as you fought back tears. This brave mask of yours was showing deep cracks. His laugh chased after you as you fumbled with the latch. “I can do it.” Taking a deep breath, you sat yourself down on the metal.

Caesar grinned down at you, partly in pride and partly in amusement. “I won’t leave you in for long, my dear.” With that, he promptly shoved you in the darkness that reeked of decaying flesh.

Each moment felt as if it was being stretched out as some cruel unwarranted punishment. Your breaths were labored as panic tasted your exposed nerves. You couldn’t scream for him to let you out though because that would undoubtedly lead you down the same path as the other unfortunate souls to have disappointed him. So, you closed your eyes, hoping that you could fool your anxious mind into thinking it was someplace else.

Loud thuds rattled the chamber, coaxing a startled shriek from you. “Are you ready?” Your muffled “Yes” was granted with the dull lights of the room. Visibly shaken up, he gave you some ounce of comfort. “Well done! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

“Why… Why did you do that?” You could barely look at him but managed to catch a glimpse of his puzzled expression.

“I can’t give you a straight-forward answer.” His response was genuine—unable to pinpoint the appeal to all of this. At least, not at that very moment.

“Last one, alright?” The promise was wrapped in thorns, but it was all you had to grasp at. Your answer “Truth” brought on some annoyance. “Really. After that you choose ‘truth’?”

“I…Okay, dare.” Not wanting to risk leaving this place in anything other than one piece, you complied. 

“Good,” he purred. “Take these off.” His large hand caressed your shoulder for a moment before plucking at your shirt and bra strap. The threatening presence he had was still shifting to one trying to offer affection and gentleness, both of which you were in desperate need of.

You did as you were told, further earning yourself drops of praise. His fingers traced patterns on your bare back, gently claiming you as his. When you removed your bra, his other hand cupped your soft flesh with unexpected tenderness. A soft gasp escaped you as he massaged your delicate breasts. He hummed with satisfaction. Your sounds only made him yearn for more.

He plucked at your hardened nipples, while watching you closely. Each subtle change in your face put him into a deeper trance. “I doubt this place has ever heard such lovely noises, my dear.” Each word dripped with desire.

A whimper left your soft lips as both of his hands roamed your exposed figure. Each motion they made over you radiated fervor. “Lie back,” his command was tender, so as to not scare away those darling sounds you were making. You could hear him unzipping his pants and fumbling with himself. Your expression changed, leading him to soothe your woes. “Shhh, don’t worry. I won’t be very rough.” He trailed weak kisses along your forehead before straddling you.

With him placing his length between your breasts, you instinctively nuzzled it with your soft body. A deep sigh of pleasure left him as he gripped the sides of the table. At first his thrusts were more to allow himself the enjoyment of taking you for himself: you being pinned under him, panting softly, a look upon your face that read you were eager to please him. But then that look and those sounds tore away his restraints. His eyes rolled back and fluttered shut as he picked up his pace.

The squeaking of the metal mixed with his grunts and your shortened breaths. A room riddled with the scent of death and visited by those who feasted on it was given new life as the two of you satisfied your lust. It may have been buried deep below the surface, but the unearthing brought you to a fever pitch. Cries of release echoed throughout the premises, daring to wake the dead. Such a high carried both of you through the rest of your exploration, giving whispers of your sinful passion that had recently struck you.

[whatevertheweather]

Thank you @thewholelemon @moodandmist @run-for-chamo-miles and @youarenevertooold for the tags! I'm in love with everything y'all posted, what the hell.

In other news, it seems like my recipe for success is to have a Bad Saturday, unexpectedly write an unprecedented amount on Sunday, manage nothing throughout the week, then rinse and repeat. However, yesterday was a kind of okay Saturday, and I've still written a lot today, so maybe the point is really just Sunday.

In any case, what I've written today is from the same unexpected fic I mentioned in my last WIP post. But also like that post, that's not what I'm going to share, because it's not on my hit list for this year. Instead, I'm joining in with the CORB cheer by posting about, y'know, the one I started last year, good old Bait and Switch, because that's what I was getting all my words out for last weekend. Like, the next chapter is about 2 scenes away from done, when there had only been about 3 scenes in it when I started. So that's good?

Under the cut because this is already getting kinda long and I'm not stopping at six sentences.

I don’t know the answer to that. “Because I’m better than you. Now c’mon, get your head in the game. We have a plan.” “Do we?” “Here’s the plan. You give me a good zinger to make Simon go off—” “No.” “What?” “You think I can set him off with a zinger?” he audibly sneers. “This isn’t a one-liner trick. We build up to it.” “Fine,” I roll my eyes. “You long-con him, he goes off, I get my energy back. Easy-peasy.”  Baz is silent. Maybe being a dick and maybe asleep. I can never tell. Finally, he says, “And then you’ll let me out.” “Yeah,” I say. “Totally.”

The slightly difficult thing is that there's also rather a bit of angst being threaded through a fic that is at its core quite lighthearted, but I've received some comments in my time that suggest I may be good at writing things that make you laugh and then also hurt you in rapid succession, so hopefully I can pull it off without it feeling like we're switching genres.

Here's another that's a very little bit of both.

“I would not fucking say that!” Baz yelps. “Calm down,” I swat at him, but the tips of my fingers just slide through the edge of the coffin. I scowl at them. “I saw it in a film. It’s fine. It’s a totally normal thing to say.” “It’s not! It’s really, really not!” By the time he’s run out of steam screeching at me about it, I’m thinking there’s no way this ends up worth it. I don’t feel bad for doing it, but seriously, no one has ever yelled at me for this long. His voice is wearing down. Getting scratchier, which just makes him sound more violent, but then quieter. He ends by mumbling, “I hate you.” It hits weird. I mean, I don’t know. It just sounded sad. And it’s not true.  He doesn’t hate me. We’re helping each other.

Now, tags!

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @whogaveyoupermission

@mooncello @monbons @aristocratic-otter @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart

@alexalexinii @rimeswithpurple @ivelovedhimthroughworse @martsonmars @ileadacharmedlife

@confused-bi-queer @iamamythologicalcreature @noblecorgi @forabeatofadrum @emeryhall

@hushed-chorus @onepintobean @raenestee

[qbdatabase]

I’m not sure if im allowed to ask for book rec so please ignore this if im not! But either way I was wondering if you could recommend a book with maybe two gay characters? It doesn’t have to be the main plot point or specifically romance (think; The lives of puppets) but I’d love to see it I don’t mind really any genre or if there any spicy stuff

Thanks!

I'm just going to give you my personal favorites bc the number of books in the database with gay (male) characters is 1368

Devil's Dance by Leigh Garrett: duology, MMM triad between an assassin, a biker gang leader, and his right-hand man / pining best friend, very hot / dark / angsty but with a happy ending!

The Last Sun by K. D. Edwards: trilogy, tarot cards are real mythological figures (like royalty), MC is the embodiment of the Sun court but he's broke af and a major underdog, romances a Russian bisexual man from a rival court

Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco: FMM bi4bi polycule with a nonbinary MC who presents as male, he's also a vampire hunter and the other two are vampire royalty, he's big mad about being so horny for them

Notorious Sorcerer by Davinia Evans: MM, another underdog gay MC who's an illegal alchemist / fencing scoundrel, enemies-to-lovers romance with a spoiled princeling, super fun magical system and worldbuilding with the feel of magical Venice

Infinity Alchemist by Kacen Callender: MM(FM) (that means bigender female/male), another underdog illegal alchemist alkjdsk but he's trans this time! and it's enemies-to-lovers all around for this idiot polycule

All of Us Villains by Amanda Foody: magic is real but it's a scarce resource controlled by a handful of families who make their children kill each other in a generational tournament to determine the magic-controlling hierarchy; everyone is queer and mean and hot

A Taste of Iron and Gold by Alexandra Rowland: anxious prince x stoic long-suffering bodyguard who falls in love against his better judgement and then simps so so hard

Sword Dance by A. J. Demas: retired disabled soldier x "retired" courtesan, cozy murder mystery, set in fantasy-greece/rome; soft tender romance that makes me seethe with jealousy

White Trash Warlock by David Slayton: LOVED the concept of a gay white trash warlock, decent book in the end, mad it was essentially a bait-and-switch that immediately left the trailer park for Colorado :/ must recc it regardless for being set in Oklahoma

The Ruin of Kings by Jenn Lyons: epic high fantasy, 5 books of 500+ pages each, but incredibly good! if you think you'd like Wheel of Time but don't want to commit to a twenty billion page count, read this instead. MM-genderqueer polycule

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by K. J. Charles: gay con artist wants to scam a young widow out of her fortune, but he gets scruffed like a naughty kitten by her hot older brother. talks his way out of trouble by offering to be his personal boy toy, but then they both fall in love for real!

OK I should stop there, but if you want to scroll through over a thousand other gay books, check out qbdatabase.com!

[lol-jackles]

RE: https://www.tumblr.com/teamfreewill2pointo/756271964740599808/tv-shows-take-a-long-time-to-develop-how-long-do

Will likes to talk a lot about “privileged” information, but how much of what they say is actually true? Why would ANYONE work with CMP after what happened on The Winchesters? We know Danneel lacks any business sense. Jensen’s not great either.

What do you think?

Link. Privileged information that he can't reveal until after it is conveniently reported in trade papers or at cons. Anybody watched the congressional hearing interrogating the Secret Service director Kimberly Cheatle? She gave so many non-answers that she pissed off both Democrats and Republicans and they called for her immediate resignation (instead of waiting for Biden to fire her because nobody has seen him for days. Days!) Yeah, Will is about her level of hoarding information, if he ever had them in the first place.

With that said, Will is mostly correctly about The Countdown likely being developed and then they looked for actors to slot into roles. TV shows that are developed around an actor's persona are rare unless you're Rosanne or Ellen DeGeneres or Tim Allen. This is just general knowledge in the industry

"Ackles and CMP have a bunch of irons in the fire." So far Jensen mentioned one show they sold for development. As for "a bunch", I hope it's these:

Not Another SPN Spinoff!

SuperBad

The Hungover Games

How to Lose a Show in 10 Days

Shark Bait and Switch

A Series of Unfortunate Events

[illarian-rambling]

🐹 for the OC ask game?

Confession: I've never played a Pokémon game in my life. I just had the cards as a kid cause I thought the art looked pretty, so I'm not really sure how to answer this one.

In lieu of that, I'm gonna answer about a game I know way too much about: dnd!

🎲 If your OC played a pen and paper RPG, what class would they pick? Warrior, mage, thief, ranger, cleric, paladin, druid, necromancer, bard (or other, if that’s not enough).

Izjik would be a gloomstalker ranger with a 3 level dip into battlemaster fighter to help facilitate that melee build. She'd have good strength, dex, and con, but abysmal everything else. Her maneuvers would be tripping attack, goading attack, and ambush.

Sepo would be a swashbuckler rogue with expertise in stealth and intimidation. His charisma would be high just for that intimidation, and his panache ability would just be him giving people a death glare. He'd duel wield daggers.

Twenari - despite being in Illari terms, a sorcerer who gets magic from her blood - acts much more like a wizard in the practical sense. She'd be an evocation wizard with the warcaster feat. Later on, she'd probably take a dip into artificer.

Djek would be a thief rogue/shadow sorcerer multiclass with high dex and charisma, but low strength and con. I thought about making him an arcane trickster, but he does damage with his magic that would fit closer to a sorcerer. He'd definitely be higher into rogue than sorcerer.

Astra would be an artillerist artificer, despite fighting like a full caster, rather than a hald caster. The arcane cannon ability could be reflavored as her ribbon coat, while her infusions are all the gadgets she makes. She'd probably take the skilled feat.

Mashal is pure battlemaster fighter. He has high strength and con, but utterly terrible wisdom. His maneuvers would be bait and switch, disarming attack, and riposte. He'd also have the mage slayer feat.

Ivander would have one level of celestial warlock for flavor, then the rest would be in inquisitive rogue, as he doesn't really use magic all that much, but he is one hell of a detective. He'd abuse tf out of steady aim and probably take the gunner feat.

Elsind's main battle strength is being slippery and they fight without weapons, so I guess that makes them a monk? I'd say way of long death monk because they're pretty tanky, but he's too nervous to do much fighting.

Avymere, as much as I love making fighters, fits way too well to be anything but an oath of devotion paladin, even if they have no divine magic in the actual story. I feel like they'd have the sentinel feat as well.

Thanks for the question, and forgive me for derailing it, I just love talking about dnd :)

[theone]

fave evermore lyrics for it's anniversary?

willow: I guess I should've known from the look on your face / every bait-and-switch was a work of art

champagne problems: Your heart was glass, I dropped it and But you'll find the real thing instead / she'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

gold rush: And the coastal town / we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it / and then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea / cause it could never be

'tis the damn season: There's an ache in you / put there by the ache in me and And the heart I know I'm breaking is my own / to leave the warmest bed I've ever known

tolerate it: But what would you do if I / break free and leave us in ruins / took this dagger in me and removed it / gain the weight of you then lose it / believe me, I could do it

no body, no crime: But I ain't letting up until the day I die

happiness: I can't make it go away by making you a villain and In our history, across our great divide / there is a glorious sunrise / dappled with the flickers of light / from the dress I wore at midnight, leave it all behind

dorothea: from you I'd buy anything

coney island: Did I close my fist around something delicate? / Did I shatter you?

ivy: I wish to know / the fatal flaw that makes you long to be / magnificently cursed

cowboy like me: Now I know / I'm never gonna love again and With your boots beneath my bed / forever is the sweetest con

long story short: Now I'm all about you

marjorie: I should've asked you questions / I should've asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me

closure: I know I'm just a / wrinkle in your new life / staying "friends" / would iron it out so nice

evermore: And when I was shipwrecked / I thought of you / In the cracks of light / I dreamed of you / It was real enough / To get me through

right where you left me: I cause no harm / mind my business / if our love died young / i can't bear witness

it's time to go: that old familiar body ache / the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / you know when it's time to go and He's got my past frozen behind glass / but I've got me

[strqyr]

I also can’t help notice in the opening that when Team RWBY is walking in the little montage, Blake seems to switch places so that she ends up being the front of the team

A possible foreshadow to her truly being the one to lead the team out of Ever After or at least have a REALLY big role somehow… if this doesn’t lead to the tree/Sun clone theory I’ll feel baited lol

yeah, they first start in the correct team rwby order bc that's how they appear on the beach, but when the scene changes blake takes the leading spot from yang. in general blake was ON POINT this episodes, keeping her focus and not really getting distracted by any weird stuff happening around her and i'm so ready for her to take that leading role bc like. in v7 she was the one who said they'd follow ruby's lead and now that ruby is doing not-so-great, blake taking that burden from her (for now, the ever after seems adamant to put ruby back in that position if the "chess" game is anything to go by) is just. really really nice.

(also like. she's likely going to lead the white fang one day, she's going to have to get some practice in.)

and i can't lie: the moment the golden glow happened my mind went to the tree sun saw that's "leaves had a golden glow in the evening sun" and "the sight had filled him with a strange peace, and a sense of purpose, that he hadn't felt in a long time." like. blake sees the golden glow and immediately follows it (sorta like a sense of purpose) and finally comes to the conclusion (a guess, a thought, that had already crossed her mind before) that they're in a fairy tale because of it.

we also know (thanks to the tiny con panel spoiler) that sun is going to have at least a short appearance this volume, so... even if it's just his voice... clones that are extensions of his consciousness, pretty please?

[scalproie]

OKAY LAST SEASON BABEY last time we left the bots were going in hiding and optimus took a fucking nuke to the face what will our silly heroes be up to now

So smokescreen is hot rod in anything but name (the wiki even agrees) (HE EVEN GETS A BOW AT THE END) but the more i think of it, the more im like. The phaseshift gimmick smoky got wouldnt have worked so well with hot "I have flames on my paintjob" rod. Then i was wondering is phaseshifting was smth smoky had back in g1 but apparently not and i didnt find anything else so. Shrug.

The smokimus prime bait-and-switch still makes me feel some sort of emotion to this day. I mean i get it and i dont think i wouldve liked the alternative but gnhgnn

Team prime being separated in my opinion couldve lasted longer to do interesting stuff buuuuuut im really fine with the brievety. Plus the humans reuniting scene was very cute

Knockout's back must be suffering being the ONLY non-decepticon high command member and therefore carrying the goon quota on his own. Speaking of.

SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCKWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE

I keep forgetting Ultra Magnus is in tfprime BUT I like him. I remembered being kinda annoyed with him back in the day but I now recognize that I was stupid, hes literally fine and I like him a lot :) hes a hammer main

Predaking is so fucking cool its unreal. Put him in monster hunter

Cant believe that compared to S1, the tables have turned and there is now more bots than cons. its legit just decepticon high command + knockout now

Con side is still better tho. literally any scene with two different cons interacting is amazing as per usual

Shockwave after predaking got got and starscream is now mocking him: Fine. I'll do it my damn self *jumps off the tower and bags two autobots*

OPTIMUS' NEW DESIGN IS SO BULKYYY WHYYY THE ONE HE HAD WAS LITERALLY PERFECT. I GET WE HAVE TOYS TO SELL BUT CMONNN

He is also heavy weapons guy now so nvm

Optimus really hit megatron with the 1️⃣+2️⃣-> ➡️⬇️↘️1️⃣->➡️➡️2️⃣

SO LONG GAY WARLORD

Shockwave just casually walking off while the fortress is about to collapse on him is such a move. Insanely cool

The community joke that tfprime is just one massive macguffin collect-a-thon is so fucking real lemme tell you. Now we need BONES

ALSO. KNOWING THAT IT DOESNT ACTUALLY AMOUNT TO ANYTHING. LEMME TELL YOU.

"We could have beast wars on our hands" ENOUGH

The scouts vs waves fight was cool tho. Also soundwave running is so really uncanny

We are turning the screamer patheticness to fucking 11 this season and im having a blast. Steve blum screaming in a high pitch for 3 hours

Conceptually, "spunky teenage girl joining the giant robots version of the black ops on equal terms thanks to a mystical indestructible technology" is fucking awesome and I still do like that the show went that way for miko. Also major miko W for that starscream burn

Theyre also retroactively making wheeljack more like wheeljack

"You know what they say about vehicon troopers?" / "Theyre easily distracted" I cant believe they made them by cloning a bot with adhd

FYM "no mom dont go its not safe!" YOUVE BEEN LIGHTYEARS AWAY ON ANOTHER PLANET. GET YOUR SON'S ASS JUNE

S3:E7 is a great episode bc it has some KO action and for once he actually succeed. I kid you not some episodes (this one in particular) I got stressed over if knockout would get shit done bc his failure ratio is so high that if i didnt know better i wouldve thought megatron would fire him at one point. cons' only medic or not. Thats what happens when the writers kill off every evil goons in the show save for one

Just why is knockout french all of a sudden

"So go on, Big M, tell me you love me more than starscream~... my liege? hello? ... too familiar?" I HATE HIMMM

"Never let a decepticon take you to another location" yeah the animators would have to make another desert

I take it back about starscream, hes an essential part of the decepticons bc by pissing megatron off so much he makes everyone else look good in comparaison

I remember when megatron was struggling against ONE (1) insecticon and now wheeljack just killed like three middair in a single strike

Ive literally just realized the insecticons' insect mode are legit just seltas from mh4 (or vice-versa i guess, tfprime came first)

S3:E8 is the best episode of the season (the show maybe even) and I believe the fact that its the ONLY episode that is 100% full decepticon is related. A travesty it is the only one imo

I know the reason behind that is that the cons were literally too strong and they needed to nerf them somehow but still.

Too many good and noteworthy things in this episode for me to say but i will have to say that even tho they wrapped up the cylas plotline "well" enough I still have issues with airachnid's. I mean who doesnt

Ok i lied megatron basically saying "starscream if you so much as looked at my evil drugs cookie jar again i will fucking kill you for real this time" is hilarious

God I love this episode

The fact that shockwave is the one who made the zombie containment protocole meant that megatron had to fucking call him for help and explain and i so badly wish we got to hear that conversation

Predaking robot mode is one of the prettiest in this show ngl

Meanwhile the bots are introducing ultra magnus to the main theme of fast and furious

THE CONS DOING A TEAM HUDDLE IN THE FUCKING CLOSET IS KILLING ME

"I think we're gonna have to kill this guy, shockwave."

Predaking vs wheeljack and ultra magnus is the best fight in the show and its not even close. hunting dreadking rathalos with your dual blades and a hammer buddy be like

Ok i take it back the whole plot about the bones is not completely pointless and it goes into the conclusion of the show well enough. but still.

SHOCKWAVE KILL‼️

"Master! Are you going to allow one lieutenant to harm another!? ... Master?" / "I'm thinking >:)" guys did you know i love megatron very much

"Exemplary teamwork" GUYS DID YOU KNOW I LOVE M

Ultra magnus really came into this show just to face the horrors huh

I'll say it again, soundwave really didnt actually do much in tfprime BUT on the other hand he really did nothing but win :)

One complain I will have about his one (1) line is that there actually wasnt enough effects on his voice to really capture that G1 feel

It took 3 seasons and we are 4 episodes away from the series finale outside of the movie but the cons FINALLY figured out they could just. follow fowler to the autobot base. And they needed shockwave to have this epiphany as hes the only one with a braincell on the cons side rn. Genuinely im starting to think they werent that invested in finding the base of their enemy until they absolutely needed to

"This is no place for a one-handed autobot" shockwave one of your hand is a cheese grater cannon

I know predaking is actually a combiner originally and aligned/tfprime wanted to have a big dragon but honestly? He would be a neat rival to grimlock, he kinda reminds me of him during his fight with optimus. And dinoBOT vs predaCON yknow? (Or at least. The aligned version of the predacons)

WHY DID THEY JUST BLOW UP THE ONE HANGAR??? WHY DIDNT THEY BLOW UP THE WHOLE BASE??? IN MY MEMORY I WAS SURE THEY QUICKLY RELOCATED WHAT DO YOU MEAN STARSCREAM JUST FUCKED UP AGAIN BC OF SOME PAINT??? WHAT??????

I love megatron when he is completely honest about being an untrustworthy asshole

Honestly if i were jin kazama i would be ecstatic about having job security once i turn 18 bc i hanged out with giant alien robots a lot. Also raf picking up after ratchet is cute

Ratchet said "megatron i will NEVER help you in your plans" and meg was like "ok then lemme give you a tour of the ship" and that was all it took for ratchet to help

Loved that scene with ratchet, shockwave and KO. Also love when cons are surprised when given basic decency

Optimus and starscream running into each other in the sky like that scene in malcom in the middle where the mom pass by the son driving a car

MEGATRON PULLING THE OVERLORD/PIPES SPECIAL ON RATCHET

Really loving how literally all of the autobots plans failed and the only reason they dont lose is bc the decepticons ONCE AGAIN caused their own downfall. And like a coinflip its either starscream or knockout. here its knockout

Predaking vs megatron is. Very good. To me.

"[out of breath] Thats the spirit... but I was a champion of the pits of Kaon not only due to my savage might... but also my CUNNING." 😳😳😳

We are starting the series finale strong

Genuinely genuinely genuinely what they did to soundwave is so fucked up to this day and I KNOW rid15 fixed that but still in the context of this show in a vaccum this horrifies me. He was the coolest and got such a "I have no mouth and I must scream" end. Which i know is fitting for him but GOD.

Smokescreen being an errant boy for this finale is a good representation of his treatment for this (short) season. Im sorry buddy youre still the mvp

I am SHOCKED by how little focus the last optimus vs megatron fight got

Megatron's last moments. Augh. Give him the oscar 😫

I forgot how much of a chill team player shockwave was like that in this show

Funny to hear the evil theme of the nemesis getting turned into smth heroic

Predaking is really pretty

Tfprime has a very efficient ending. The goodbyes were really well done and the score really makes you feel emotional

Not closing words from peepaw? Alright. I guess they knew they had the movie next

OK THAT WAS SEASON 3. It sure is a lot more rushed than previous seasons which is a shame bc the events follow each other nicely enough. Predaking also took a lot of the focus bc we had toys to sell. Oh well many such cases. ONLY PREDACON RISING NEXT AND IM FREE

[ali-annals]

nothing lasts forever (say you'll remember me) (forever is the sweetest con, pt 1)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng PART TWO Moodboard

Rating: T | Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ao3 | WC: 1.0k | TW: -

A/N: This is part of a series called The Eras Tour (Jasonette’s Version), a collection of Jasonette-centric fics I wrote for the Maribat discord server Maribat? Get In!’s 2024 Civil War event. Not beta’d.

Years after retiring from Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes by many other names, switching identities as easily as she breathes…until she tries to swindle the wrong guy.

“Jump in!”

The red Mercedes screeched to a stop at Marinette’s feet, and she yanked the door open, hopping inside. The car took off before she’d even finished closing it. 

She looked up from buckling her seatbelt. “Your timing is impeccable.”

Her chauffeur smirked at her, already passing the ‘goodbye’ billboard at the city limits. “Tell that to my exes.”

“Ooh, self-burn, those are rare. Where are we going now?”

“Anywhere away from the crowds,” he shrugged. “Where do ya wanna go?”

“I don’t care, as long as I’m with you.”

He leaned over, bringing her knuckles to his mouth to press a soft kiss there. “‘With me’ it is!”

Jason pulled over at a roadside motel for the night, the gorgeous view from their window making up for the dubious service offered. 

The sunset drew Marinette to it like a moth to a flame, her fingers itching for the familiar colours and rough surface of the heavy-pressed paper she drew on. She could imagine the designs already, showcasing the rugged beauty of night rising.

People usually said night fell, but in her opinion, it rose, creeping up on you gently until suddenly all you could see was the smooth darkness. 

She turned to face the wind, letting it blow her hair out of her face, enjoying the last rays of light warming her skin. 

“Pixie!” called Jason, climbing up the slight knoll until he didn’t have to shout for her attention anymore. 

She tossed him a smile. “Hey, Jay.”

His larger form behind her gave her a strange sense of security, stability. She didn’t know why; they’d agreed when they met that they would leave sooner rather than later.

Ten months ago

“Jason Head.”

“Marie Cheng. Enchante.”

“What’s a pretty woman like you doing here?”

She glanced around at the bar, filled with rougher-looking people than her in her polished pink dress and grey boots and coat. “Hiding,” she said simply, her body language inviting him to join her.

He accepted her invite, perching on the stool beside her and ordering a ginger beer.

Her eyebrow raised, unbidden. He tossed her a half-grin, silently baiting her.

She bit. “I can’t say I expected you to order a ginger beer.”

“And what did you expect me to order?”

“Scotch or whisky on the rocks, most likely. Maybe a lager.”

“I don’t mind one now and again but I prefer to stay away from alcohol when I can. Family issues.”

She nodded understandingly. “Why are you here then, if you don’t drink your problems away for the night?”

“Maybe I have other ways of dealing with my problems,” he looked her up and down slowly, subtext not lost on her. She was well-versed in masculine wiles and countering with her own feminine ones. 

She bit her lip, swirling her mocktail around slowly. “Do you deal with your problems in another place, as well as manner, then?”

“I might. Would you care to see?”

“I think I’d like that very much.” She polished off her drink, preparing to close her tab. Jason beat her to it, waving away her protests. 

Marinette silently pulled her dress over her head, glancing surreptitiously at the bed to make sure Jason was still sleeping. He didn’t move, like he hadn’t for the past several minutes.

She tiptoed to his discarded pants pockets, fishing through his wallet for loose cash. It was a hard business, being a bandit these days. Everyone paid through credit cards or apps, making one-and-done deals like this much harder to pull off and less financially feasible to make up for the trouble it was worth. Long cons were easier, simply requiring her to make up a new personality for a month or two while she stored away jewels and leftover cash from shopping sprees financed by her target du jour . 

A paper in Jason’s wallet caught her eye and she tugged it out from its sticky hiding place after another glance at the bed. Jason Todd was the name, not Jason Head. 

So she wasn’t the only one out there still doing good ol’ fashioned swindling, huh. Inwardly, she chuckled at the irony of them ending up together. Well, it had been fun. Adieu, Jason Whatever-your-real surname-is.

She curled her fingers around the doorknob cautiously, twisting slowly so the click wouldn’t wake Jason up. 

She’d made it to the parking lot when her arm was seized and she turned to see Jason holding her.

“I think you mixed up some of our belongings in your haste to escape, Marie.”

A couple was much less suspicious than a single person, making their cons much easier. A partner for lookout, for companionship, for intelligent conversation, especially about their line of work, was a welcome find. They agreed to travel together for no longer than a year, as they’d eventually become too noticeable as a couple. Still, while they had each other, they made the most of it.

Now

He wrapped his arms around her waist, speaking softly into her ear. They’d done this plenty of times, but it felt different this time, and what he said confirmed Marinette’s thoughts.

“They know we have a partner now; it would be smarter to split up.”

She nodded, turning in his arms to face him. “You’re right. Promise me one more night before we separate?”

“One more night,” he agreed, kissing her. 

She silently pulled her clothes over her head, glancing back at the bed. She knew this time he was sleeping, having become accustomed to his breathing patterns, even his resting heart rate over the past several months. She opened his wallet, sliding several bills in between the soft leather folds. 

With a final glance at his sleeping form, she quietly opened the door and slipped out into the sunrise.

She opened her wallet at the bus station to pay for her ticket. Several more bills than she’d had last night peeked up at her. She scoffed a smile, wiping her tears away. He’s already remembering me. Adieu, Jason Todd.

[aeide-thea]

[consent in fiction, content warnings]

i started to make a post abt this earlier and then scrapped it, but like, long and boring details aside, i guess really what i'm still thinking about is the way in which content warnings are, probably inevitably, sometimes so insufficient as to be actively worse than nothing—

like, okay, the specific thing i encountered this morning was a fuck-or-die sex pollen fic tagged as 'no archive warnings apply,' which is obviously, uh, debatable, given that the trope is kind of inherently dub-con at best, but the author had tagged for 'sex pollen' and 'fuck or die,' so i guess those individual tags do give readers a sufficient-if-not-generous heads-up that, like, here be dragons or whatever… but then i actually read the fic in question, bc while i feel neutral abt the trope i've often liked this author's work in the past, and like, the actual consent issue that fucked me up a little was that the sex pollen wasn't just an organic phenomenon or lab accident or whatever, as often, but rather deliberately inflicted on the leads, and not by yr run-of-the-mill Evil Experimenters/Torturers/what-have-you, but rather by… the narrator's ex's sisters, as payback for… his ex's having broken up with him???

which, fine, whatever, people sometimes do fucked up shit and you can certainly include that in a story; but the love interest's reaction to discovering this is just to be 'amused,' while the narrator is like, i'm just relieved my ex is still willing to talk to me! which again, fine, whatever, people do shrug off serious violations of their autonomy out of a desire to maintain social bonds, that also isn't unrealistic or unreasonable to portray in a fic; but that entire aspect of the situation got literally less than 2% of the fic's whole word count devoted to it, i guess because we're in Romance Land where the only thing allowed to have actual emotional weight is intra-relationship developments, and anything outside that context is just meaningless scaffolding, even if in real life it would be a pretty fucking big deal, and probably pretty traumatizing, to find out your ex's family had literally poisoned you???

anyway, sorry, i guess i couldn't restrain myself from going into excruciating detail after all, but tl;dr it's just like. it frankly made me feel much weirder to encounter that plot point in a context where other, more familiar dubcon tropes had been warned for, because it made me feel much more uncertain that the author actually recognized it was an issue! i'd have preferred it if they'd just slapped an 'author chose not to use archive warnings' on the whole thing!

[cw for discussion of a fictional depiction of deliberately painful sex]

reminds me of a fic that fucked me up much more a while back, where a character had consented to sex and consented, too, to poorly-defined punishment, but the form the punishment ended up taking was deliberately-careless penetration that caused the character pain on purpose, and neither the character nor i were braced for that, and while i guess you maybe couldn't say it needed a noncon label, because technically both sex and punishment had been agreed to, it definitely was like. while you-the-author may technically have your bases covered here in a legalistic way, this was definitely a pretty deliberate bait-and-switch that was triggering both for the character it happened to and for me! and like. was it effective as a reading experience? honestly, yeah! i got an emotional journey out of it that really mirrored the character's—method reading, if you will. but do i still resent that author for it, literal years later? also yeah.

anyway i guess basically the thing is like. i'd much rather know i'm venturing into unknown territory and be on my metaphorical toes, than have situations like the above where like, everything is supposedly safely tagged, but the author's standards for that aren't the same as yours, and then something slides between the cracks to sting you?? like, i'm (hopefully obviously) not opposed to content warnings, and do typically provide them on this blog, but there's an extent to which it's like. a guardrail that gets dislodged when you put any actual weight on it is more dangerous, actually, than a wholly unfenced drop…

[please-change-the-prophecy]

Listening to evermore today for the anniversary, here are my favorite lyrics from the album!

Willow: Guess I should've known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art

Champagne Problems: One for the money, two for the show / I never was ready / So I watch you go

Gold Rush: Everybody wants you / Everybody wonders what it would be to like to love you

'Tis The Damn Season: And the heart I know I'm breaking / Is my own / To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

Tolerate It: Always taking up too much space or time / You assume I'm fine

No Body, No Crime: Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

Happiness: No one teaches you what to do / when a good man hurts you / And you know you hurt him too

Dorothea: But are you still the same soul / I met under the bleachers, well / Ooh I guess I'll never know / Ooh and you'll go on with the show

Coney Island: And if this is the long haul / How'd we get here so soon?

Ivy: I just sit here and wait / Grieving for the living

Cowboy Like Me: Now you hang from my lips / like the gardens of Babylon / With your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con

Long Story Short: And he's passing by / Rare as the glimmer / of a comet in the sky / And he feels like home / If the shoe fits walk in it / Everywhere you go

Marjorie: And I complained the whole way there / The car ride back and up the stairs/ I should've asked you questions/ I should have asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me

Closure: Guilty, guilty reaching out across the sea / That you put between you and me / But it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary

Evermore: I had a feeling so peculiar / That this pain would be for / Evermore

Right Where You Left Me: I stayed there / Dust collected on my pinned up hair / I'm sure you've got a wife out there / Kids and Christmas, but I'm unaware / Cause I'm right where / I cause no harm / Mind my business / If our love died young / I can't bear witness

It's Time To Go: Or trying to stay for the kids / When keeping it how it is will / Only break their hearts worse

[mysterymanjoseph]

Bringing Hell to the Pacific: mysterymanjoseph and multimusesblog

Some scientists that work under the umbrella of Joseph's family's corporation had been taken from their hotels while at a conference in Taiwan. It took some doing of his 'intelligence' people, using methods that might have made hardened former KGB agents squeamish, but, a location on a small pacific island was finally revealed to be where his people were being held. After some more intelligence gathering, a plan is developed as fast as possible, and Joseph's Pacific 'rescue' force is deployed. His grandfather, decades ago, formed the first force, operating mostly in the Atlantic region, but, this one was Joseph's doing. Hiring seasoned combat vets, from whatever branch of service he could, they were trained anew, to form a cohesive, and deadly unit. Now, at a distance from the hostile's island hideout, USS Kittyhawk, saved from the scrapyard by Joseph in one of the greatest bait and switch cons ever played against the U.S. government, begins launching her strike aircraft, highly 'evolved', F-8 Crusader fighters, affectionally called 'The Last Gunfighters', and A-7 Corsair 2 attack jets. Off in the distance, the converted cargo ship, now helicopter carrier and troop transport, named Edson's Ridge, launches her also 'evolved' craft, AH1 Cobra gunships, Huey troop transports, and a couple Chinook heavy cargo/troop transport helicopters. Joseph, sitting in the doorway of one of the Hueys, as he did on Blackhawk helicopters during his time with the Marines in Afghanistan, watches everything go into motion. As long as he is young enough, and physically able, he will always deploy with his force, not sit safely back home while they do the 'heavy lifting'. As the air assets lift off, the fighters climbing to provide top cover, as the attack aircraft go in to lay down ordinance to suppress any 'first resistance'. Feet dangling in the air, Joseph looks over at his men, all having serious, professional expressions on their faces. All is ready, now just time to execute.

@multimusesblog