#twice the primes is just so much fun

[nonsscrapheap]

Hello! Very random but I just want to tell you that you're a REALLY good writer-- just read your recent chapter of Twice The Primes AND IM HYPED UP!! I especially love Starscream's and Optimus Trion's interaction with the Primes, you wrote them so distinctively well! Goldbug's part also made me laugh XD, I literally had no faith in him when it comes to keeping Orion and Dion's designations a secret but then I was pleasantly surprised-- that was until he nearly blurted out Dion's name LMAOO.

And omgggg Pulsebeatttt! Shattered Glass! Soundwave!!! Any version of Soundwave is superior and I love love love that he's here! And he's attached to Artemis!!!! LETS GOOO. ALSO SPEAKING OF ARTEMIS-- THEIR PRIME DESIGNATIONS ARE SO GOOD!! THEY MATCH!! SUN AND MOON!! Im literally going feral about this chapter and cant stop re reading it (im not joking, this is my third read) Im so excited to see how Solaris is doing! And craving Solaris and General Megatron interactions, I can already imagine a scene where Solaris shyfully admits to not having an alt-mode and everyone is just: 🧍‍♂️

Anyways-- sorry for the long ask, I just needed you to know that I love love love your writing! (I've read almost all your Transformers fics, my personal fave is Twice The Primes and the reaction fic. They live rent free in my brain) I hope you have a GREAT day because you deserve it! That's all thanks!

- Taro 🍆

FPFPFPFT THANK YOU!!!! i WAS about to like, log off my computer, i'm still writing chapter 15, i'm at 1.8k words at the moment but yknow what? i can work a bit longer, get that past to like 2.5 or even 3k so i can finish writing it later

hehehe starscream and optimus trion's povs were fun to work with, especially optimus, i hope i'm conveying optimus' slow (slowish??) descent into falling in love with artemis. he already respects artemis so much and is awed by him.

golbug! the mischievous little insect (beloved) that is impulsive and selfish! yeah, he's attention seeking but he's smart enough to know that telling someone else about the primes' designation would be stupid and would reflect badly on him. even if it was his best friend, but he's still young and impulsive so he almost says dion's name anyway. still, he hast heart! he'll mellow out! eventually.

soundwave IS superior! any soundwave, we love him! i am especially attached to transformers: prime soundwave, he was the first soundwave i met AND the mech is purple, my favorite color :D i was tempted to make him the soundwave of the continuity but i decided to let PULSEBEAT have his design instead! i like green too, and sg!soundwave being attached to artemis, looking like tfp soundwave but acting different- i knew it'd be fun. especially with pax in nox's head!

hehehehe i've been waiting to reveal those names ever since i thought of them back in the single digit chapters. got inspired by solus just like in the story lmao, i went 'well, dee already has megatronus' frame, might as well have something related to solus be his designation' and from there it was the PERFECT opportunity to have nox be artemis.

SUN AND MOON DUO! MATCHING NAMES AGAIN!

*pointing at you with disbelief at the altmode bit*: YOU! HOW DID YOU PEEK INTO MY DRAFTS?! CAN YOU READ MINDS?!

lmao yeah

anyway! NO THANK YOU FOR THE LONG COMMENT! i dont get those often, its been way too long since i had one and i think this is the first long one for transformers! and aww thanks! i hope you stick around for MORE transformers fics! because i have no idea when ill be out of this pit that is the transformers fandom! it's been almost four?? five months??? and counting and i am still here. will be for a while i'm pretty sure!

question, i made a post about a fic of hot rod having tanjiro's memories and turning it into a hot rod harem fic, any thoughts?? (its not gonna happen for a while but its in my head persistently)

im glad youre enjoying Twice The Primes and my other fics! many apologies though because both other fics are p much on haitus since all my focus is on Twice The Primes, i haven't even touched my unfinished draft for the next part of Universal Observations in a while TuT

TTP is just too fun yknow??? and im at a really good bit too!!

i hope YOU have a great day because this question definitely made mine! don't apologize for the long question! i answered it in a long post lol

anyway back to writing TTP!

[mikansei]

and some days i come up with a whole ass plot, an entire OC family for a character complete with personalities, motivations & conflicts, how they navigate said conflicts now that they're ostensibly adults (but they never really talked through it in the first place so it's still looming) and how to make such mundane drama compelling & believable when this character's partner is mr. my-entire-family-was-horribly-murdered and like excuse me but what the fuck. where did this come from. where was this energy during yesterday's Em Dash Incident

some days i write 1k words in a sitting. some days i open the document, move the em dash in 1 (one) sentence and close the document

[wheneverfeasible]

No Obligation (part 1.1)

wc: 1.3k || rating: T || tags: omegaverse steddie, post-s4 au, eddie lives, max lives, o!steve, a!eddie, rockstar!eddie, mpreg, oc!kid, friends-with-benefits, second chance love, secret pregnancy, pining || summary: after corroded coffin makes it big, eddie leaves hawkins and never looks back, while steve is unknowingly pregnant with their pup. which might have been fine, had they actually been together.

~

It had broken Steve’s heart when Eddie left.

Which was stupid because it wasn’t like they had even actually been together. They had fooled around a lot, kind of exclusively though they’d never said as such in words, but they weren’t together. They went on what were very obviously dates, though they didn’t acknowledge them as such, and there’d been no courtship. It was just for fun.

When Eddie broke things off, when he left Hawkins because he finally got that chance he had been waiting for and Corroded Coffin had actually landed a record deal, it was amicable. They hadn’t been a thing, they had just been…a placeholder. Just something to pass the time until something better came along.

Except, watching Eddie leave and never look back when his something better came along, Steve realized that he had kind of been hoping for a forever type of deal, been hoping that he could be the something better after all.

It was three and a half weeks after Eddie left that Steve discovered he was pregnant.

Steve knew he should find a doctor, take care of things quietly. He was an unbonded omega; a pregnancy would ruin any and all prospects he had. He’d even had Robin make the appointment for him.

He never went.

He didn’t go to the makeup appointment either.

No one had known about him and Eddie, not officially. Robin obviously knew, he could keep nothing from his soulmate, and he figured Eddie’s bandmates knew, but what had been between them had been a secret. Just two bros helping each other through their cycles, finding release when the stress or nightmares got too much, and that was that.

Eddie made that more than clear. And Steve had started the whole thing in complete agreement.

If only he hadn’t fallen in love with his best friend.

Eddie never visited, like he promised he would. He was too caught up in what was practically overnight success. Being the prime suspect of Satanic ritual serial killings made the metal community perk up in interest, nevermind that he was found to be completely innocent of the charges. It was good publicity. Even his scars enticed fans.

He called, once or twice, but he stopped calling Steve ‘sweetheart’ by then, and it became obvious that Eddie had no intention in ever returning to Hawkins. Not without an obligation.

Steve never wanted to be an obligation again. Didn’t want that for his pup either.

Didn’t want Eddie to feel trapped, didn’t want his pup to feel resented, because Steve knew that Eddie would drop everything to try to be a good father, even if it wasn’t what he wanted. Even if returning to Hawkins would slowly kill him on the inside.

So Steve said nothing.

The pup growing inside his belly wouldn’t be Eddie’s. It was his; just his. Steve wouldn’t ever be able to be the pup’s alpha parent, but he could be enough. He would be enough, because there was no other choice. He would sever all familial connection between the pup and Eddie. Sure, part of him wanted just a little bit of the man he wanted to be his alpha still, but the pup would never be a placeholder like Steve had been.

His pup was his. Not a replacement for the man he couldn’t have. It was his pup and no one else’s. Thus there would never be any obligation.

Especially after Eddie stopped calling. Stopped writing. Stopped…everything.

He still contacted Dustin and the others, he knew. Sent them out tickets for his shows when he played nearby. As his fame and fortune grew, he even flew them out for visits and shows farther away.

Steve had been invited, of course, but Steve was done with being an obligation too. The love was still there, it always would be for Steve, but the friendship mellowed out as they moved on with their lives. After all, what basis did their friendship even have without the trauma that tied them together? Trauma that Eddie obviously wanted to forget.

Seven months after Eddie left, Steve’s son was born.

Steve never resented Eddie for leaving, for never loving him, or for anything else. Though there was no denying the dark curls atop his son’s head, Steve never really thought of the pup as his and Eddie’s. It was his pup. There was no alpha listed on the birth certificate, no talk of the pup’s other parent being gone, no nothing. Steve would never let his pup believe for a second that he was missing anything.

He definitely would not let the pup believe that he had a father out there who didn’t want him. No, as far as everyone else was concerned, Steve wanted a pup so he set out to get one using a donor. Even as the pup grew older, Steve’s eye color in a shape that was not his own, Steve’s cheeks but not his chin, Steve’s moles but not his smile…

Steve never entertained whispers of the kid being anyone else’s but his and his alone.

And what did it matter since Eddie would never know the pup even existed to begin with? Would never know because he was never coming back?

Robin helped, and those closest to him did as well, even when Steve could see that they knew. Even if they didn’t know before, they had to know now. But the pup was his, never an obligation or reluctant duty for anyone else. Never feel even for a second like he was unwanted or unloved.

The first time Wayne saw the pup, a few months after he was born when Steve ran into him at the grocery store, the older alpha had dropped the eggs he was carrying.

Steve made it clear that the sleeping boy was his and his alone, something that Wayne seemed to understand. The alpha still asked to see the pup more, something Steve didn’t have the heart to deny. Not when he saw the way Wayne’s eyes glistened with tears.

Not when the man looked like he had found something he’d lost a long time ago.

And so the pup grew up. It was getting harder and harder to deny the other half of the kid’s genes, of course, not with his curls, or the piercing look in his eyes, or his intelligence he certainly didn’t get from Steve. And then there was the music.

The pup was drawn to music, taking to it like a fish to water.

Thankfully, for Steve’s sanity, the boy didn’t seem interested with the toy guitar Dustin (much to Steve’s consternation) got him, though he did enjoy the drum set Wayne got him for his birthday. Which…was fine, though Steve’s headaches didn’t thank Wayne any.

All in all, Steve was content with his life. As his honorary pups grew up and started their own lives, many going away for college, Steve settled into his life as a single parent, though it wasn’t always easy as an unbonded omega with a young pup.

His parents had, of course, disowned him as soon as he couldn’t hide it any longer. He’d been expecting it, of course, and withdrew as much of his savings as he could without causing them to demand it back.

He’d traded in his car as well for something cheaper and sturdier, moved into Forest Hills in a two bedroom double-wide, and found a job that would employ him in his circumstances. It wasn’t the life he had envisioned for himself as a cocky young man, but it was one he was happy with because it was his. His and his pup’s.

He worked hard to provide for his pup. Steve didn’t need an alpha. Nor did he want one. He had his pup, his friends, and that was all that mattered. He made it on his own and he’d be damned if anyone took that away from him.

Everything was going well. His little one just had his seventh birthday, he had gotten a small raise at work, and Lucas and Max were going to be visiting soon. Things were good.

And then he heard the news: Corroded Coffin was returning to Hawkins, Indiana.

Eddie was coming back.

~

oop, lil bit of a cliffhanger there, sorry. This was just an idea that would not leave me alone until I wrote it out. Which is hilarious because I’m actually not a fan of pregnancy/kid fics in normal circumstances lmao mpreg or otherwise

I may or may not continue this in the future, once I work on my other, currently languishing, WIPs. I do have some more ideas for this though, which bodes well for actually writing more of it lol

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @hiei-harringtonmunson

[dat-lil-shark]

I found more TFP Characters Stats and they are VERY Interesting

So over a week ago I found out that in the Japanese airing of Transformer Prime, they put up these commercials in between episodes that displays the characters stats. Back then I only found Soundwave’s, but now I’ve found almost everyone.

Again, I have no guarantee that these are canon enough, cause it's made by Japanese, who made Airachnid a yandere.

But it’s fun to assume they are.

(SPOILERS ALERT)

First of all. MEGATRON ACTUALLY HAVE HIGHER INTELLIGENCE STATS THAN OPTIMUS!!!??? (Op got 8 and MT got 9)

Not only that but also higher speed and firepower TOO (OP got 7 speed and 9 firepower, and MT got 9 speed and 10 firepower).

Sure Optimus got bigger courage and skills but in battlefields if MT is not so dr**ed up he might just win a lot more.

And speaking of unexpected intelligence.

Compared to Arcee, Airachnid also got WAY higher intelligence (AH 9 and RC 7) and slightly higher strength (AH 5 and RC 4) AND FIREPOWER (AH 5 and RC 4).

I was at first surprised how Airachnid could be so smart but then it did made sense since she was able to always lure Arcee into her fun cave to beat her up and was able to easily kill Breakdown.

(And I know technically this was supposed to be the Japanese yandere Airachnid but— let’s just ignore that— maybe let’s pretend it’s the normal Airachnid okay? Please?)

But Arcee got 9 on courage.

Airachnid might got the cunning but at least Arcee got the feral.

And the way Arcee only got 7 on the intelligence out here is breaking stereotypes that the only girl in the group has to be smart.

Luckily not all Autobot and Decepticon rivalry ends in a Decepticon topping the Autobot.

For example.

Bulkhead is a lot— AND I MEAN A LOT better than Breakdown is.

He’s got higher strength (BH 10 and BD 9), intelligence(BH 5 and BD 4), courage (BH 8 and BD7), rank (BH 6 and BD 4) AND firepower (BH 7 and BD 6)

Bruh Breakdown is competing with Bulkhead just because he is insecure 😂😂😂😅😅

Bulkhead can actually sweep the floor with Breakdown if he wanna!

also I think Breakdown got the lowest stat in intelligence and rank than any other characters here.

This actually does explain how Breakdown could be killed so easily by Airachnid, honestly, since Airachnid got more than twice as much intelligence as him.

Well at least we know Knockout married him for true love.

And speaking of Knockout.

He’s SO WEAK!! 😂😂😂😂

Dude Knockout is an absolute LOOSER!! (At least according to the Japanese)

He LITTERALLY GOT 5 SKILLS, ENDOURANCE, AND 4 COURAGE!!

THAT IS ALMOST THE SAME ENDOURANCE AND ALMOST HALF THE COURAGE AS ARCEE (who is about only 1/2 of his body size btw) (his buff armours are just for shows) AND HALF THE SKILL OF RATCHET!!

HOW DID KNOCKOUT EVEN MANAGED TO BE A MEDIC!!

He is only a bit good on speeds. Now no wonder he loves racing ITS THE ONLY THING HE IS GOOD AT!! Bro litterally covers himself in makeups cause he’s too self aware 😂😂😂!

I wondered how he managed to lie so perfectly on his job resume.

And speaking of medics.

Ratchet is WAY better in everything than I expected.

He’s more than twice the medic Knockout would ever be.

He actually got EIGHT endurance which is surprising, cause that is only one star lower than Bulkhead!

The doctor might be old but he’s still got armors and bones as strong as boulders.

No wonder he kept getting beaten up in this serie but just got up fine and never snap his back once like my own grandpa after standing up from his chair.

Wheeljack on the other hand is also not bad at all.

He got 9 skills. I guess that’s what got him to be able to make all his terrorist toys.

Also it’s funny cause he’s only got 8 endurance, that’s 2 stars lower than Ratchet.

Could you just IMAGINE Wheeljack and Ratchet fist bumping as hard as they could but it was Wheeljack who ended up having to grab his fists in pain??

Also he only got 6 intelligence?? That’s honestly far lower than I excepted tbh. That is only one star higher than Bulkhead.

No wonder Ultra Magnus has such a bad time.

(it’s also funny how Arcee criticized Wheeljack for impulsively going to avenge Bulkhead when she herself is only like, one stat smarter, and does that with Airachnid on a daily basis (sure she didn’t drag any humans in but she is still barely better).

(Also by the way, speaking of Ultra Magnus, he doesn’t have a stat page unfortunately cause the Japanese TFP never got a season 3, it just ends at Optimus breaking the Alpha lock and that’s it, which means Ultra Magnus never appeared, and neither did Shockwave (beside that one Arcee flashback) and Predaking unfortunately).

Oh and the Dreadwing Skyquake twins are over powered.

Just look at them!

They are almost the exact same in stats except Skyquake got more endourance and Dreadwing got more fire power.! If Megatron had both of them at the same time they could just deep fry the Autobots in episode 10!

RIP Skyquake you had SO much POTENCIALS man. And to think that even the PRIME HIMSELF ALONE can’t take you out without major help from Bumblebee.

And speaking of Bumblebee.

HE MAXED OUT ON COURAGE.

Listen no one else in this whole list got courage 10 except Bumblebee.

Not Arcee, not Optimus, not Ratchet, not Smokescreen, and not even Wheeljack.

HE IS FERAL!!

Damn it man now thinking back I don’t think I recall a SINGLE MOMENT in the entire show, although it wasn’t obvious first time through, that Bumblebee actually considered for his own safety before doing anything. And it’s not even in an “I am willing to sacrifice my own safety for the greater good” way but a “Oh I’m gonna lose a leg for this but it’ll be nice? Sign me up!” Way! “Psyc link into Megatron? Count me in!” “Jump on top of Skyquake? You bet!” “Run straight toward Silas when you can litterally wait for 5 more minutes but then you can get your t cog back for five more minute earlier? I’m coming!!”

If it’s not for the fact that Bumblebee got a good dad that he’s happy to listen to he will be a bigger disaster than Wheeljack is.

The other kid, Smokescreen, is just a tad bit weaker. But he’s way better than I expected since he only just joined this war. (*cough cough* way better than Knockout).

However,

on the other servo.

Starscream is OVERPOWERED.

Bro has got EIGHT STRENGTH despite his skinny arms (same as Skyquake & Dreadwing), NINE SPEED (faster than Megatron), NINE FIREPOWER (same as Optimus) and TEN FRAGGING SKILLS (same as RATCHET)

Honestly. If it weren’t for the 3 courage, DUDE COULD ACTUALLY HAVE A CHANCE TAKING OVER MEGATRON!!! He

is

strong.

He honestly doesn’t even need the apex armour tbh! And there are countless times he got defeated probably only because he froze in fear or else he could have absolutely fought back and won!!

That 3 courage ruined him.

Also they don’t have Cliffjumper too and that is very unfair tbh cause Skyquake also appeared for only one episode but got his, and pretty unfortunate cause I really wanna see how strong exactly Cliff was before his death.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

“Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will. 

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in. 

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out. 

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him. 

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder. 

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do. 

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot. 

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on. 

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail. 

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.” 

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since. 

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened? 

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.” 

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that. 

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

 “Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.” 

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you. 

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. ��You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go. 

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being. 

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret. 

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.” 

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.” 

[octuscle]

Hey, I need some urgent help! My boyfriend and I are enjoying the summer on a cruise. Its been great but he wanted to play in one of these stupid game shows. They call it a couples make over or something. We thought it would be funny, like just clothes or something. But they use the chronivac to give a real make over experience with audience input. Well apparently they thought it would be funny to turn my boyfriend into a hairy southern redneck with the thickest accent I've ever heard. I asked him if he's alright and I swear they must've dropped his IQ too. He sounds so stupid. And he's totally into it- he asked to stay this way for the rest of the trip! And now he keeps riling up the crowd telling them to give him a good southern boy to match him. They're taking me back stage now! Please, I need some help!

Okay. I'm afraid I'm late again. You're already on stage. Your transformation seems to have been successfully completed as well.

"Guys, thanks uh lot fahwar thuh transformation. Nuthin' beats thuh lads frum Alabama! Few wonna say sum reeyul dick, come visit us in cabin 1862!" you shout into the microphone. Your friend adds, "Don't knock, gist come in. But beware, we're always naked in thuh cabin. Git reddy fahwar twice 12 inches uh prime beef between our legs."

Dang, you two make a much prettier couple than before that way, though. Okay, you're both as thick as two short planks. But hell, you've got abs!

As a bonus, I made almost all of your tops disappear by the end of the cruise. All you have left are a couple of tank tops. And your necklaces. They go great with the huge belt buckles and the cowboy boots.

Now make your way to the karaoke bar. Sweet Home Alabama. At least twice. And afterwards something nice by Dolly Parton. Have fun!

Best place for finding pics like this is @redneckbromance

[lets-try-some-writing]

okay but what about robots in disguise?? its not a favorite of mine but it’s still pretty good. russel and his dad are decent lol

Frag that show.

It disrespected TFP on every level and for that it has my eternal hatred and contempt. The humans were annoying, and I HATED how many interesting plot threads there were that were either done poorly or with so little tact that the writing team should have just scrapped it. The designs are tolerable, but I hate how canon TFP characters lost so much of their individuality in their designs (coughtheopticscough). Smokescreen is fricking GONE, which bothers me more than I care to admit. We see the rest of the team enough to be reasonable, but they all appear in ways that don't really make me happy.

Ratchet was done well enough in my opinion. I like his RID design. It suites him. Optimus's design can go die in a hole, they brutalized that mech. Same with Jazz. Frag those stupid shoulder pads.

Grimlock is fun, I appreciate Sideswipe, although his helm hair thingies I think need a redesign to make sense in relation to his alt mode. Strongarm was HORRIBLY underutilized and I hardly saw any character growth in her. Drift and his crew were interesting, but similarly not given much room to grow. I really liked Windblade for the most part, especially the episode where she tries to baby Optimus and comes out having relearned that Op is still a PRIME with MILLIONS OF YEARS OF WAR EXPERIENCE.

The Primes who've done nothing but sit on their rears had NO RIGHT to belittle Optimus at every turn. Nor did the show have the right to make him an idiot for the sake of making Bee look smarter. As @nova--spark has pointed out, the personality Bee got in the show matches Smokescreen better. Bumblebee wouldn't have SUCKED so much at the whole leadership shtick. What happened to all that skill shown in the movie huh? HUH WRITING TEAM????!??!?!

While I am on this train. OPTIMUS DIED SO GOSH DARN LEAVE HIM ALONE!!! He should have stayed deceased, or if they REALLY needed him back, he should have either returned as an Civi or came back with actual issues. Like dang hear me out mate.

Optimus is forcefully returned to life, beats the Fallen with his borrowed power, but then has to actually deal with the consequences of essentially being a walking bomb for a while. Make him start losing plating, make his frame HURT, make him slim down again into the TFP base design. Just, give him a reason to have to sit back and RECOVER. Not this whole half hearted limping around garbage. To add to that, don't baby the mech. Let him stay at base and fulfill the role Ratchet did in TFP. Let him use his knowledge to teach and offer wisdom, plan battles and locate enemies. For Primus's sake he could have gone undercover on Cybertron or something if they really needed him to go be useless elsewhere.

THEY COULD HAVE EVEN HAD AN ARC WITH HIM GIVING THE TEAM A WAKEUP CALL!!! SIdeswipe has no respect for the mission, Grimlock is a fool, Strongarm is too snarky, and Bee in this seems to have largely forgotten about the seriousness except for during key moments. They could have made Optimus a minor antagonist, forcing the team to follow wartime standards since they laid down this plot thread regarding issues between leadership styles and Optimus trying to take control of the operation more than once.

I would have paid money to see Optimus's wartime mentality show itself in the best and worst ways through how he worked with this group of non war vets on a Decepticon capture mission. Maybe even have him use lethal force once or twice, or at least hint at it so that people can be reminded that he is a mech who went to war, killed countless bots, and both drove their people to and saved their people from extinction.

Bee could have had to teach Optimus to calm down. He could have helped eased his leader out of his wartime mindset. Or following that whole council running Cybertron route, Optimus could have had his moment of being very much right when he points out WHY he fought at all and gestures towards the new council. There was SO MUCH potential in this show, so many good threads and interesting Decepticon character that could have given so much depth to the war and the aligned continuity as a whole, but they were almost ALL ignored.

*deep breath*

Alright, sorry about that. I have big feelings in regards to how dirty Optimus was done. Moving on, the Predacons were killed off supposedly and that pisses me off ESPECIALLY because it was done in a fricking offscreen setting. What the hell happened to Predaking??? WHERE DID HE GO????

Starscream's design was rad though, not going to lie.

Where is Shockwave? No seriously where is that fragger? After several years of the map he MUST have an army growing in a tank somewhere.

Soundwave. Why. ARe. YOU. HERE??!?!?!? I love you man but dang you are so out of place. He made sense in the context of trying to get to Megatron, but idk he felt like he deserved better. He should have been the big brain behind the Cons on Earth if you asked me. It would have made everything far more intense, especially if the Cons dont follow Decepticon creed as seen by Soundwave.

The humans were annoying. Sorry they just were.

Fixit is Primus's gift to RID and he's one of the few individuals who makes it less annoying. Idk, I just like him in reasonable doses.

WHERE ARE THE TFP KIDS?! WHY HAS BEE NOT CALLED THEM?? GOOD HEAVENS THERE IS A WHOLE SUBPLOT RIGHT THERE!!!

*yet another deep breath*

Apologies.

To put things simply, I would rather a group of fanfic writers put RID together than whoever the writing team was. They could have made a coherent story with deep characters that actually address the ramifications of millions of years of war and lingering functionalist mindsets. They would have done the lore and the world justice even if there were no main characters popping up.

I think RID has so much potential, but that almost all of it went right down the toilet due to either the higher ups sticking their noses where they don't belong or because the writing team couldn't go two minutes without retconning or otherwise destroying established everything.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[mouseycometz]

Hi, guys! Here’s my half of the art trade with @lockheed-martin-unofficial. It’s a drabble featuring TFP Ratchet and Concorde (OC)! It was so much fun to write!

Flight Repairs

Warnings: None

Word Count: 899

Within the main room of the Autobot base, Concorde shifted his weight, feeling hugely out of place due to his size. True, it wasn’t his fault that he was twice the height of Optimus Prime, but he still didn’t feel quite comfortable inside the missile silo, especially around the other Autobots who often stumbled around him. 

Who could blame him? Concorde meant well. He considered himself to be graceful with his movements, but accidents could still happen. He wanted to keep that in mind, at least.

The mech stood tall near the Autobot logo on the floor, observing Team Prime as they assembled as one, intending to engage in a widespread patrol for any Decepticon activity. 

Once he spotted the leader walk by, he reached out a servo.

“Optimus Prime, may I join you?”

The Prime halted and turned, gazing upwards at Concorde with the same neutral expression as before. Although his blue optics were firm and steady, there was also a faint softness and understanding to them. 

“Concorde,” he glanced over to the side, “I suggest that you instead stay with Ratchet for the time being and provide him with additional aid.” 

Concorde followed his optics to the medic near the monitors and ground bridge controls. Ratchet met his gaze, but the two didn’t exchange a word. Feeling suddenly uneasy in his tail, he focused his attention back on Optimus Prime.

“Understood.”

The Autobot leader nodded and made his leave. Concorde stepped out of the way of the rest of the team, allowing them to depart through a ground bridge. Once the portal fizzled and faded, he found the courage inside him to lock optics with Ratchet once again.

He admired Ratchet, truly. As a skilled medic, he was a valuable and hardworking member of the team. But occasionally, Concorde felt the most out of place with him. He didn’t want to be a bother, after all.

“I…will be delighted to help you, Ratchet.” He gestured towards his equipment before slowly shying away. “But if desired, I can stay out of your way.”

Ratchet nodded, understanding. 

“Yes, thank you, Concorde, but I have no need for any help at the moment.”

Concorde blinked, starting to drive himself in the opposite direction. However, before he could even step forward, Ratchet reached out a servo, almost touching him.

“Wait just a nanosec.” 

Concorde tilted his helm at him, his canards flicking. 

“You…mentioned chronic pain earlier?” 

…

Inside the repair section of the Autobot base, Concorde relaxed on the tilted medical table. Because of his own size, it was a rather tight squeeze, but he made it functional for himself. 

As Ratchet performed maintenance work on his shiny frame, the larger mech couldn’t help but think of someone he knew well, someone who he held close to his spark.

He vented, sighing and rumbling, causing Ratchet to hum.

“Something the matter?”

Concorde frowned, his canards drooping.

“I…I miss my pilot.”

Ratchet nodded, choosing to reassure him rather than dismiss him.

“You will see her again, no need to worry.”

Concorde gazed at him for a nanosec, cocking his helm to the side as the medic tinkered with his frame using various tools. As he worked, Ratchet began to mumble to himself, gradually increasing the volume of his voice.

“Had any recent dreams that could give us clues to your past?”

Concorde shook his helm, pouting. 

“No. No, I have not.”

Not even the Autobots could help him recover the bits and pieces of his memory. Still, Concorde appreciated their kindness and hospitality, especially coming from Ratchet. Smiling, he turned to him.

“Thank you for clearing up the scratches in my paint.” 

Due to damages and imperfections in his paint from battles and such, he received scratches, making it uncomfortable to fly. It was a relief for Ratchet to aid him as best as he could. And he did try his very best. Ratchet was a good doctor, and Concorde’s appreciation for him knew no bounds.

Ratchet’s blue optics flickered as he focused his attention on Concorde’s faceplate. His expression fell, and he cleared his vocalizer. 

“I, er…”

He paused, tripping over his words as he stood straight.

“I must apologize to you, Concorde.”

The plane frowned.

“Why?”

He didn’t recall the medic doing anything wrong. As Ratchet regained himself, he caught the shimmer in his optics that seemed to be something akin to guilt.

“Once, I thought of you as a smug glitch who prioritized his looks above all else.” He lowered his helm, setting his tools to the side. “But I was wrong. This apology…I owe it to you.”

At first, Concorde didn’t know what to say, totally surprised. He didn’t think ill of him. He understood Ratchet’s struggles. And yet, he was apologizing to him? Because he previously thought of him as someone he wasn’t? 

There was a sudden fire of warmth in his spark, signifying that he was touched to the core. Maybe Ratchet did enjoy his presence. Perhaps he really could fit in with the Autobot team. It would just take more time. Yes, that was it.

Slowly, he stood.

“Thank you, Ratchet.” He smiled. “I accept your apology, even though it was never required.”

He stepped forward, beginning to exit. However, before he did so, Ratchet called his name once again. 

Concorde turned, his canards flicking.

“I could use your help sorting through my tools.”

Concorde smiled.

Divider Credit: @/enchanthings

[waynes-multiverse]

Soldier boy x breeding kink because we all know he has one 🥵🤰

@syrma-sensei

A/N: A fun one! Wasn't even surprised I got this one twice. Like lovely anon put it so perfectly, we all know that man has a heavy breeding kink, and I was all too happy to make his (and your) wishes come true. Let myself get a little inspired by the lyrics of the Zombie's song for this one 😈

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSFW, drinking, celebrity name drops, smut (rough p in v, dirty talk, breeding kink, daddy kink, spanking, slight degrading, a technical age gap), naive reader, SB being a manipulative asshole

Word Count: 1.5k

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist

Time of the Season

April 1969

“She’s too young for you.”

Soldier Boy heaves an irritated sigh at his manager’s words but keeps his sparkling green eyes stubbornly trained on the young waitress who’s currently refilling Alan Arkin’s champagne glass. “Nonsense, Legend. She’s perfect. Just fuckin’ look at her,” he huffs and nurses his scotch.

“I am,” his manager insists. “She’s too fucking young for you. You’re technically turning fifty this year. Times are changing. You can’t just wet your dick with any pussy you want anymore. That girl doesn’t look older than twenty.”

“Twenty-three, actually,” Soldier Boy smirks cunningly. “I asked around. Prime of her life.”

The Legend scoffs and shakes his head. “Why don’t you fuck someone your age, huh? Like Katharine Hepburn?”

“You’re fucking kidding, right? That fucking broad is even older than me,” Soldier Boy bites and motions down two tables to the actress in question, admiring her little golden statue. He almost won one of those himself in 1951 for his biopic – not that he needs that useless glory.

“Do you know who has to clean up your fucking mess if you go a little too rough on this poor girl again? I do! And then there’s the reporters and the tabloids…”

“I’ll be careful, okay? Trust me. Last thing I wanna do is fucking break her,” he chuckles devilishly and empties his tumbler, flagging the young waitress down for another drink.

“Yes, sir? Can I get you another one?” She smiles brightly at him, shifting nervously on her low heels.

“That would be fantastic, doll,” Soldier Boy smiles charmingly up at her, causing a red tint to haunt her cheeks. “And how about you give me your name as well and tell me when I can get you outta this boring event, hm? Someone as pretty as you surely deserves to have some fucking fun, too.”

“Wow, I’ve never been here before,” the young girl gasps with eyes as wide as the illuminated Hollywood sign on the hills when Soldier Boy shoos her into his usual suite at the Chateau Marmont – room 29. “Was that Desi Arnaz in the lobby?”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” Soldier Boy mutters disinterestedly as he shuts the door behind them and wanders to the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch on the rocks. “Lucy’s probably nagging the shit outta him again.”

“Really? But they seem like such a lovely couple,” Y/N, that's her name, says in surprise and eagerly accepts the glass of alcohol he hands her.

“Yeah, it’s called TV, doll. It’s all fake,” Soldier Boy forces a smile to his lips and sips on his drink as he leans against the dresser across from her, raking his eyes over her exquisite, hourglass body. Nice rack, juicy ass, and perfectly wide hips with a small waist he could squeeze between his large hands. With a figure like hers, she surely wouldn’t have any trouble bearing his sons.

“It’s so crazy. I grew up in a small town in Kansas. Never imagined any of this when I came here, much less meeting someone like you,” she explains, her cheeks blushing rosy-red.

Soldier Boy only chuckles, loving that he already has this girl exactly where he wants her without putting much effort into it. “Well, sugar, it’s my pleasure. Like I said, gorgeous girl like you deserves some attention,” he coos and saunters over to the bed, sitting down next to her. His hand reaches out and gently brushes a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, practically feeling the heat radiate off her cheeks from the simple gesture.

“I’m not that pretty,” she swallows insecurely and hides parts of her face. “Why did you pick me? There were way more beautiful and more important women in that room. I saw how Brigitte Bardot looked at you the whole night.”

Ben purses his lips, shaking his head. “Nah, you have something that these whores don’t have, doll. All they want is money and fame. I’m not interested in that. I’m not even interested in that for a fuck,” he lies before mixing in the truth, “You see, what I want is a family. A nice, obedient wife to come home to after a long, hard day.”

“Wife?” Her eyes widen in disbelief, but as he expected, she isn’t appalled by the idea.

His smile widens as he strokes the apple of her cheek. “Yeah, you know? Someone who takes care of me, can give me kids, make me dinner, bake a decent pie,” he tells her.

“Really? Well, I actually make a great blueberry pie. Even won a contest in my hometown a few years back,” she informs him proudly.

“See? I knew you were the perfect girl for me the moment I laid eyes on you,” Soldier Boy grins broadly. “And I mean, I don’t wanna impose, but you’re probably sick of waitressing and working odd jobs to make ends meet at this point, aren’t you? C’mon, lemme take care of you, huh? I can give you everything you want. You want a house? A credit card? Nice clothes? I’ll make sure every dream you have comes true, baby girl.”

For a moment, Y/N chews on her bottom lip before she meets his gaze with a hopeful look shimmering in her eyes. “You mean it?”

“Of course! I’d never lie to you, my sweet girl. You can trust me. I'm America's hero, after all,” he smiles slyly and lifts her chin with two fingers, forcing her to keep eye contact. “There’s just one thing you have to do for me.”

“Okay, anything,” Y/N all too eagerly nods her agreement. “Can I just ask your real name first? I don't wanna call you Soldier Boy during, uhm...”

Soldier Boy laughs lowly. “I’ll tell you in the morning, baby girl. How about for tonight, you just call me daddy, hm?”

“Fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” Y/N moans as he has her bent on the bed, crying out on all fours for him as he fucks into her from behind. Her perky ass is high up in the air as he grips the flesh on her hips, bruising her delicate skin purple, green, and blue.

Y/N has been a bit of a very positive surprise. So much so that he’s actually considering keeping the bitch. First of all, she’s deliciously loud. Dickhead Howard Hughes has already knocked on their door twice and complained about the unbearable noise level. Secondly, Y/N’s submissive and obedient and does just about anything he tells her to do. Nothing seems too shabby or naughty for that little whore. He fucked her throat till she was choking and crying, and still, she didn’t even whine once. She’s damn responsive, too, and comes faster than lightning. And last but not least, her pussy is probably one of the tightest ones he’s ever had, and if he didn’t plan on fucking a spawn into her, he’d love to fuck her asshole as well, but he supposes that one has to wait till she’s on her period, or better yet – already round with his child.

His balls tighten at the thought alone, slapping against her cunt as his thumb furiously rubs her clit to force another orgasm out of her. He just needs one more clench of his cock before he’s ready to burst as well and coat her walls with his seed.

“You’re gonna be my little breeding bitch now, huh?” Soldier Boy prompts, his palm sharply coming down on her asscheek as he spanks her luscious flesh, both globes already burning red from his constant abuse, but damn, he just can’t get enough of that noise.

“Yes, daddy… Wanna be full of your cum,” she whimpers needily and even pushes her hips back into him to meet his thrusts.

“Such a good slut you are,” he praises her and spanks her other cheek as well. “‘M proud of you, baby girl. You’re gonna make a great mother to our sons.”

“Fuck yes!”

“Gonna come for me again, hm? Need you to come one more time when I’m deep, so I can pump that pretty pussy full of cum,” Soldier Boy groans, spearing his thick cock in and out of her abused cunt.

One last harsh pound of his hips and Y/N breaks down, her pussy violently pulsating around his throbbing length and milking him dry as she takes him over the edge with her as her orgasm ripples through her small body. An animalistic grunt leaves his throat as he shoots hot ropes of cum deep inside her.

When he feels his dick soften, he carefully lays them both down, keeping her in place and his cock in her cunt as their sweat-clad bodies stick together on the filthy sheets. She’s breathing heavily, close to passing out, as he chuckles and lays a flat palm on her lower belly, gently brushing the spot.

“Fuck, you’re gonna look so good carrying my child, baby girl,” he whispers softly into her ear.

“Thank you, daddy. You’re the best,” Y/N mumbles blissfully, her eyes closing.

Y/N’s the sixth girl he fucked raw in the last couple of months. He always tells them the same thing but ends up fucking and leaving. All he wants is to know that his DNA is living on somewhere, running around in the world out there. But honestly? Y/N’s so perfect that he might just keep this one as a side piece and fuck a million more kids into her. Maybe he'll even buy her that fucking house.

Pfff, can you tell I had fucking fun with this one? 🤣

Btw, I've decided to keep the dirty drabbles open for now, so you can keep sending them in if you have more smutty thoughts and kinks to get off your chest 😉 I already have a loooot for Dean, so Beau, Jensen, and SB especially are very welcome! There's no timeline when I'll post them. I figured this could just be a fun little idea we can keep doing in between ☺️🤷‍♀️

So, you have a kinky request? Then fill up my ask box, bitches 🖤

Tag Lists:

Everything J: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @iamsapphine

[tamelee]

i just saw a posts about novels that went like

sarada told sasuke he has lipstick stain, sasuke tries to wipes it off and she says he doesn't have one and sakura doesn't wear lipstick.

how do they defend this novels with their lives? it confirms sasuke never kisses sakura and doesn't know if she wears lipstick or not and kisses someone else who wears lipstick. it also confirms naruto likes to wear lipstick XD.

Please. These novels are ridiculous. Kishimoto already confirmed they’ve never kissed in Gaiden. Twice. 

(* something nicer = meant the forehead poke)

Though I wouldn't believe anyone if they said they actually like these novels, because the story (or lack thereof) is complete shit, but it’s fine if they do. A good story isn't the intention unfortunately. I genuinely wish that people understood what exactly it is they are defending. I’m writing a post for someone who asked something regarding canon, but I need to take brakes from it because it pisses me off that this happens constantly to franchises— not just Naruto. 

And in this case it’s even worse, or perhaps it’s just a prime example, because Jun Esaka (writer for some of these novels) made such a fool of herself on twt by making it all too obvious what her intentions were by writing them. (If it wasn’t already obvious.) First, when people pointed out the many flaws, she admitted that it’s “just her story” and “just her interpretation” (she had only read 'Naruto' for the first time a few months before that), but when other ss-shippers started to defend her and said she was a better writer than Kishimoto (as there’s 0 love between SS when he writes), she basked in that glory and went along with it. Even to the point that she completely disrespected Kishimoto, the story, the craft, openly made fun of other characters (mostly Hinata) and ships like NH and demanded her other novels to be animated as well. It’s unprofessional af. And then when fans asked her for a nsfw novel for SS she agreed and told them to harass the company about it. (She didn’t say ‘harass’ exactly, but come on you can’t be that dense given their reputation with staff.)

What are they defending? 

How can you defend anything when the motive is so obviously just personal bias/gain and/or financial profit to a company where both in this case don’t give a shit about the original story. It's not about shipping though, it happens all the damn time to all my favorite franchises and I'm genuinely sick of it. And it's not even about a writer writing about what they want either because I already expected that, but Esaka did her absolute best to try and disprove the bond between Naruto and Sasuke and change narratives completely even for individual cases for the sake of telling her "story". SNS-moments weren’t romantic to her and she quite literally made fun of it by copying them in her story to point out its "irrelevance", but give them to her het-ship and now all of a sudden it is romantic???? She basically calls Kishimoto a liar because ‘Sasuke Retsuden’ in particular is a direct response to ‘Gaiden’ (made by Kishimoto). She blatantly tried to disprove anything he said and indicated about her ship. She wrote about characters that, yes, have the same name as those in ‘Naruto’, but are so out of character it hurts. It took me months to recover my lost braincells. 

I don't think my post about it is still up, but to name a few things in that novel if you're interested: Sasuke resents Naruto and his test-tube daughter because he’d rather travel with Sakura, his wife whom he loves so much. But he has to do stuff just because Hokage Naruto said so and his daughter wants to stay in Konoha so he has no choice but to comply. Being apart from his wife-(did we mention he loves her so much? because he does. so much.)- makes him feel so very lonely and he misses her body so much because he knows it so well. He fails to do anything other than being jealous about the women-deprived prisoners going after the new hot doctor, Sakura, who is his wife btw. that he loves a lot in case you missed it. and he rather stares at trees that remind him of her than helping his friend Naruto who’s apparently dying from his own chakra or whatever kind of bs. Sasuke lets himself be bullied by prison-guards that aren’t even Shinobi, for having long hair and looking like a girl, though Esaka makes sure to mention how so very handsome he is and he looks like a cat. Sasuke loses a battle against an overgrown lizard and tries the same damn jutsu 4 times(!!!!) before realizing it may actually not work, I think because he forgot how to fight, but he can however create anything from ice like Elsa (Frozen), or from dirt like some Gaara-hybrid to make Sakura a ring because he loves her so much ofc… oh and he’s now a healer too. Sasuke sacrifices people’s lives even when it’s not necessary at all bc ig Esaka thinks he's a killer, and also he wouldn’t mind being brought back with Edo Tensei if it means he can stay with Sakura, because fuck everything they’ve been through in the original story, yeah? They also immediately forgive the bad guy cuz he's so relatable even though he just murdered I dunno how many people. SS kiss while an injured Naruto is squished in between them because SS-shippers have some sort of “Naruto has to watch our ship being in love to really make it legit because that’ll learn him for getting in between!”-kink (that's real actually) and according to Esaka, Sasuke is so worried about his daughter and in fact did meet up with them during those 10+ years because he loves them oh-so-much and fuck you Kishimoto that’s why. 

Be so fr right now. It’s such a joke. And these are just the few things on the top of my head that I remembered ;-; ...

Again, what are they defending exactly? It would be nice to just have a genuine fan of the story write an actual story. No other motive other than "I really like the story and would love to explore some options while respecting Kishimoto's work because it'd be fun!" Except, that's unfortunately not very marketable and ffs it's just sad. (I know there's a Kakashi version and I personally really want to know more about his role as Hokage and what he's done etc, but alas.)

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End

Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.

Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.

Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this” conversation for the fifth time in a row.

Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the afterspark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.

Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".

Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.

Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.

Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.

Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s very committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.

Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.

On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.

Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.

Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!

Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:

Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.

(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)

Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.

Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.

Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.

Tailgate punched this guy so hard it caused a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!

Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—

Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.

Today’s class consists of:

Minimus (old as balls, former high society)

Skids (the best at everything)

Brainstorm (literal genius)

Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)

Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)

Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)

Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)

Hound (former Primal Vanguard)

Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)

Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)

Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)

And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)

Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.

This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.

Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.

The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.

Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.

Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:

Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.

No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.

The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.

Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.

Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.

Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.

Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.

To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.

Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.

Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.

Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.

Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.

Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.

Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.

…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.

Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.

No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.

The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdosing on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.

Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.

Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.

Let’s give him a hand, folks!

While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.

Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn’t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.

Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.

Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.

Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.

Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.

Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.

Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.

Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.

Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.

While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.

The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.

Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.

Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.

Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.

Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen since the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.

Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.

Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!

Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!

Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.

Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.

It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.

Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.

Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.

Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.

Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH

How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.

Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.

Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut leads Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.

Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.

Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.

The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.

As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.

That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.

And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!

[bakedbakermom]

Sharing is Caring rated X // 33k // kinktober MFM threesome

Prologue: Three's Company (ao3)

Scully and Mulder have a little talk.

She sighs, gathering herself, and then it comes out carefully, tremulously, flustered and flirty at the same time. “Have you ever had a threesome, Mulder?”

Author's Notes:

Hello my dearest friends! It is my deepest pleasure to welcome you to my MSR Kinktober Smut-a-Thon. I wrote the first draft of this in a 17-day, lust-filled haze back in April-May ’24, the words pouring forth from my fingertips without my conscious will. The smut fairy kidnapped me, locked me in her basement, did wonderful, utterly unspeakable things to me—and then released me, covered in glitter and clutching 20k of the most intense smut I have ever written. I then had to go back and write Sweet Surrender to prime the pump (so to speak) and figure out what a sub!Scully head-space would really look like, and let that inform the second draft... which, as you can see, took on a life of its own. I don’t even know how to describe this fic. It’s my masterpiece, my smutty magnum opus, 33k of delicious, kinky adventure. It’s a single night of rough, fun, dirty sex between three extremely hot people. It’s longer than Animal Farm. It’s got bondage and spanking and DP, oh my! There are big feelings and sweet moments and—I kid you not—character development. You will laugh. You will cry. You will sneak off for a little private time, and I wish you all the best. It killed my computer, twice, and my poor beta a thousand times more. At times I felt like I was just standing in the room, frantically scribbling down notes while the characters had their fun. Scenes bloomed like roses; lines of dialogue came to me as if I were hearing them aloud. Surprises leapt off the page that I did not see coming. Themes wove themselves through and I only saw them when I sat back at the very end, like strands of gold in the rich tapestry of smut. I also think I invented a new literary device I am calling “Chekhov’s Pavlov,” so keep an eye out for that. This feels very much like a “What were YOU doing at the Devil’s Sacrament?” story for me. It’s a very vulnerable thing to share kinks this deep (even if they’re not all mine), but then again, you’re here reading it. Just a reminder, never mistake fanfic for reality; these are Barbies I’m smushing together, not real people with flesh and bones and feelings. RACK is best. Eternal thanks to my beloved beta, @onlineproblems, who bore witness to this entire breakdown and encouraged it in real time. Thank you for indulging my insanity, checking my grammar, and catching my dangling modifiers before they fall. Thank you for making me giggle with delight and swoon with gratitude with your insightful comments and notes. Thank you for holding my hand as I ate myself alive with nerves. And endless thanks for your art, oh god, your absolutely stunning art, which will live in my heart (and on my walls) forever. There is no one else I trust to pick my nits and bring this world to life. My love, my precious ghostly smut wife, I am squeezing your cheeks and you kissing you softly on the mouth. Now, without further adieu… Welcome to the Devil’s Sacrament, sweetheart. Shall we dance?

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

[heresmyfiddlestick]

Joy to the World

my thoughts and some silly canonwelding and esquivalience-tin-hatting

a standard, inoffensive Christmas special. along the lines of Twice Upon a Time where there is *something weird happening* and the Doctor gets involved but doesn't really need to, because as it turns out there is no big evil and everything would have been fine either way, but by getting involved he learns a bit about himself.

the 7.5-minute bootstrap paradox interlude in the Sandringham in 2024 was nice and cute. we have to laugh at the Doctor wishing they could live day-by-day (The Power of Three? prison-era 13? UNIT era?), but i think it's interesting to see that admission as 15 wishing he could have the gift that he has given 14. i'm not holding my breath for the skinny man to actually come back or be mentioned any time soon, but this incarnation being born and immediately rejecting "the quiet life" is an important aspect of his character. i wish we'd gotten a bit more about Anita and how she helps the Doctor see more of himself. but Steph de Walley did a great job portraying a passionate one-sided workplace romance in montage.

{{esquivalience}} tin-hatting time now. it's time to draw some wild connections between elements of the show that may mean something but probably don't. call it an easter egg. the Susan Twist twist has primed me to respond to connections between character names and performer names. Anita Dobson is Mrs. Flood, who we know will be important to the "forces beyond this universe" we hear about in the teaser for season 15/41/apple/2. ALL I'M SAYING IS Anita || Anita. the real world is still blurring into the show and the show is bleeding out into the real world.

hang on, in looking up Anita's actor's name i learned that the woman working behind the desk at the Time Hotel is named Angela Grace i.e. Angel o' Grace L.M.A.O. another banger, steve.

alrighty now for some canonwelding, my favourite activity in this fandom. something with fewer implications and just for fun. what the heck happened to Joy and the star-seed and all that? "we're so much bigger than Villengard"?? and the Joy-star just sucked up Joy's dying mother??? Aha! why of course, we know about a big powerful sentient star that exists on a crazy long time scale, is the centre of a religion (the briefcase is put in a shrine and described as something that could "start a religion"), and likes to eat emotionally-potent items/people. that's right, I put forward that Joy, after she becomes the fucking Christmas star, eventually turns into...

AKHATEN

(does this mean "the Long Song" was just an extended version of The Twelve Days of Christmas?)

and absent any further investigation of exactly what the star-seed is and what it ends up doing after this special, that is my headcanon of choice.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Trick Or Treat {Headcannon}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Words: 1.6k

Warning: Fun & Games, Implied Smut

Note: Happy Halloween, guys!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~~

Imagine it's Halloween and you and you are going to a Halloween party thrown with some friends that has been thrown by friends of friends. Sorta like a 6° of separation thing where you didn't know you ran in close circles to famous and semi famous people.

You've decided to go as Lewis Hamilton and have even committed so far as to wear a Mercedes race suit, the helmet you bought off eBay from a mega Lewis fan AND strategically position that very familiar bulge down to accurate girth 😏.

Your costume was supposed to be sort of a joke and your best friends were also going as other celebs either in F1 or sports.

You didn't think anything of it and even got tons of compliments for how accurate your costume was. You committed deep and had even gotten your hair braided like his but opted out of the faux facial hair. You thought that was too creepy.

"Girl, I feel like I should just sling you this ass cause you might just be as close to 44 as I will get," your friend Zoë said beginning a twerk.

Everyone busted out laughing while you did the ultimate fuckboi move. Rubbing your hands together like you saw a meal you bout to tear up you licked your lips in the most exaggerated way and nodded your head. Stevie J would be proud.

Once y'all get to the party it quickly becomes clear that you have existed in this 6° of separation world as plenty of semi famous people passed you by.

You and your friends make a vow to make tonight the best night and proceed to drink as much as you can on someone else's dim and see whose son you can go home with.

A few hours into the party you are pretty can't tipsy but not blackout drunk and have been entered into the best costume competition. When you get on the stage with the others, they go down the line asking what you are and to give your best impersonation of what you are dressed as.

It is a hilarious time as each one goes. You watch on as a girl dressed as Marylin Monroe steps forward kisses her hand and blows the kiss before full on lifting her dress in an effort to imitate the steam blowing up Marylin's dress moment. Applause fills the space.

You then watch a pretty dope looking Scorpion step forward and deliver the classic line, "Get over here" before unexpectedly throwing a ninja dagger across the room into the wall.

Your eyes bugged while everyone stood in silence probably trying to figure out just what had happened. When they did, they cheered loudly.

Next it was a girl dressed as Ariel or Ariel if she were in fact over 23 rather than a teenager. For a tail she had on sparkly fishnet stockings and underneath a purple sparkly thong. Her seashell bra was on point but also completely see through and every part of exposed flesh was decorated with pink or purple foil tinsel. You couldn't hate on it or her.

She stepped forward and let lose the Ariel vocal harmonics from when she gave the sea witch her voice. That you could hate on. Everyone coveted their ears and shook their head.

Then you watched someone dressed like Meg the Stallion from the WAP video and when she dropped down to the floor and tweaked on it you hyped her the hell up as did everyone in the club.

Finally, it was down to you and once you stepped forward there was laughter, but most was deafening cheers. With the helmet on it brought it all together and for a second everyone began whispering if you were really him.

When it came time to impersonate him you took the microphone and decided to play it safe. In prime and proper British accent, you spoke.

"You can knock me down, but I get up twice as strong. Yhu know what I mean. I don't aspire to be like other drivers. I aspire to be unique in my own way. I feel like people are expecting me to fail, yeh, therefore I except myself to win. Just like my tat on my back, still I rise."

No one spoke, moved or made a sound for several seconds. You began to think you had fucked it up but then everyone erupted with cheers.

It was a quick deliberation and after it, you were crowned winner. You couldn't believe you pulled it off especially with the shit you said which you clearly pulled out your ass. When you met your friends again you were 500.00 richer.

From then you partied like the end of the world was tomorrow. After a quick trip to the bathroom as you passed down the narrow corridor you felt someone push you against a wall.

"Trick or treat?"

"Uh, what?"

"Clever costume."

Biting your bottom lip, you looked up but thanks to the helmet you couldn't really make out who it was.

"Uh, thanks." You made a move to walk around them but found yourself rooted to the spot.

"I particularly like the um--package down there."

You snorted, your tipsy ass not reading the room one bit.

"Thanks. I mean we don't know if it is accurate or exaggerated by socks, but a girl can dream. Right?"

"So, you dream about it?"

"Be for real I am sure a lot of women have fantasized about peeling back that race suit and taking what's inside as their trophy on their own podium. If you know what I mean."

"Does that include you?"

You were not an idiot you knew who was in front of you was a man and as his scent permeated the air around you, you felt yourself growing bolder though you wondered which guy would get turned on hearing a woman talk like this about a celebrity crush.

"You know what? Sure. Given the chance I would absolutely have my way with him and vice versa."

The next thing you knew your helmet was pulled off bringing you face to face with the absolute last person you expected. Your brain stuttered as did your mouth leaving you speechless.

The man in front of you--Lewis Hamilton himself looked amused as hell.

"What if I said this is your chance?"

"Excuse me?"

He leaned in then, going to your ear. "I'm gonna head out in about an hour, if you decide to take your chance find the guy who looks like a giant teddy bear and tell him "treat."

You couldn't believe you ears, and you didn't trust your words.

He scoffed then spoke again. "I'll ask again. Trick or treat. You decide."

With that he walked off as quickly as he'd cornered you. Holy shit you thought trying to wrap your head around all that had just happened. You needed to sound off with your friends, but you didn't think this was something you should tell anyone. So, for the next hour you continued to enjoy the party.

Every inch of the club you went you felt eyes on you and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't find him again. What are the odds, you asked yourself. You were not opposed to one-night stands. Matter of fact you were absolutely pro one night stands especially with celebrity crushes. You only lived once, right.

By the time the hour was up you'd made your decision. Bidding your friends goodbye, you slid through the crowd looking for someone who looked like a giant teddy bear. The word was as the tip of your tongue. When you finally found him, you spoke them like a witch's incantation.

"Treat."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[zombiecicada]

So I have been reading Valfrey’s honour tier list over and thinking for a while about it. I considered doing it with Wolfbell since it is in fact supposed to be for the tourney contestants, but poor kid is both just a kid and also not finished her entire story. I feel as to judge her now when she has not yet come full circle and overcome her challenges would be unfair to her.

So we’re going to submit the bastard that is Flare Okarda. Who’s my current running oc to become the tourney participant in next year’s tournament (if there is one) and he has made it his personal goal to anger Valfrey as much as possible.

Valfrey of course belongs to @gethoce

For a quick summary of Flare’s character:

He is an original species called a pjofur, who through technological means have achieved ‘reincarnation’. A term used to describe a process in which the memories and personality of an individual are computerized and placed into an organic vessel in order to ‘bring someone back to life’, a process of which has long since robbed the species of their souls.

Flare is a rogue member of the pjofur society, formally known as Jokull, on his third reincarnation something happened and he developed a fatal logic error in his programming that caused him to descend into severe aggression and insanity.

Jokull eventually attacked his assigned romantic partner when she tried to check in on him, almost killing her. He stole a copy of the reincarnation equipment blueprint, deleted his all his backups, and fled the planet and became a fugitive, further descending into madness until he became someone else who couldn’t recognize himself as Jokull anymore, and this person named himself Flare after the intense feeling of being mentally burned alive he felt when he first lost control.

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One must live their life for a purpose such as serving a shogun or protecting one's people.

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Ah, purpose and servitude. Gross. Disgusting. Boo, even. Flare has a very rocky relationship with purpose and an even rockier time with the concept of serving someone or said purpose, stemming from his time as Jokull before being plagued by the fatal logic error.

Flare would admit his concept of both purpose and serving said purpose to be limited to one very far end of the spectrum, an extremism which has permanently spoiled his outlook on the overall concept making him unwilling to even try to accept there is other, kinder purposes and things to serve. All he can think about was that Jokull was always just intended to be an extension of Jakob. A trophy son and ticket to bragging rights. A cog in the machine only the machine sits in a glass box all shiny and squeak less and flawless.

That was what he had been brought into the world to do, and Jokull stripped himself of any and all individuality for it and denied himself anything that wasn’t serving the society. That was his purpose. His only purpose, for both of his reincarnations. Flare often says that Jokull played their game twice without a single selfish thought or complaint. And what good did it ever do him in the end? When the fatal logic error happened, all his fancy, glorious high end contributions to society did not buy him a single ticket of mercy and he was thrown into the fire.

Flare doesn’t want to be like him. He doesn’t want to ever be more fancy person calculator instead of a being. He’s not Jokull. He’s not the cog in the machine and wants no part of it. The society can rot for all he cares. He is going to live completely selfishly, he’s not going to bend to any one purpose, he’s going to have fun, and everyone else can kick rocks with their teeth.

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If left without a purpose one must make it their mission to find one.

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Flare’s commitment to having a purpose is equivalent to that to-do list you said you were going to make, and maybe you did but now it’s sitting somewhere in your workspace collecting dust.

He claims his purpose is to fuck around and find out, like how his prime goal with this is simply be the biggest disgrace to Valfrey’s honour code possible. To be free to do what he wants when he wants, ignoring he’s often at the mercy (of which there is none) of the fatal logic error that forces him to do things regardless if he actually wants to do them or not.

He is a force of destruction and chaos with no linear path or progression. His goals ever changing. For all his insistence that he does in fact have a purpose, he is stuck in place, making no true progress, hardly ever finishing the projects he starts before he loses track and jumps to something else, all while continuing his steady descent into further mental instability.

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Be the master of one's emotions, yet do not rob yourself of your whimsy for it’d poison your mind.

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Control is the last thing he has over his emotions. It’s like trying to control a tornado, or more accurately an intense electrical storm. He has severe emotional dysfunction, his thoughts and feelings and unyielding and uncontrollable torrent of lights and pulsing sounds that has no off switch.

He often describes his feelings as ‘you’re in a room and the lights are strobing and the speaker is on full volume and you have your hand in a bath of electrically charged water also the tag on the back of your shirt is itching you’.

Despite this, he often claims to be horribly bored and under stimulated. This leads him to being uncontrollably aggressive, and he will impulsively pursue experiences, no matter how unpleasant or risky they might be. Often this throws him into the path of combat, the aforementioned aggression Flare exhibits often unrivalled. These can manifest into unhinged outbursts known as flares.

Flare’s lack of control over how he feels stems back to the fatal logic error, which continuously misinforms the brain inside the vessel on how to manage chemicals and hormones, leading to disastrous outcomes and highly immoral decisions.

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Always be honest unless doing so risks the safety of those you swore to protect.

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Flare will lie without second thought if it will benefit him, Flare is rarely honest unless it’s to give his ‘honest opinion’ on you, and by that he means he’s going to insult the hell out of you. His one and only circumstance to always telling the truth is if you can get him to agree to a set of ‘game rules’ and make him join some game.

He’s not particularly sure why (he blames Jokull, as usual) but if he plays a game while he may not completely obey the rules, he will be completely and openly honest that he did in fact break the rules and a truthful explanation as to why he felt it was necessary to do so.

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Do not steal unless it is to protect.

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Flare steals about as easily as he tells lies and makes insults. You can bolt something down and that’s only a temporary solution especially if he decides he really wants that thing.

From stealing the copy of the reincarnation technology, to the player’s handbook he possesses (though he claims that he didn’t steal such he found it and while that’s technically true it wasn’t his to take) to arguably Jokull’s entire life and person, to the lives of several people, Flare has taken a lot. And he has really no intentions of stopping any time soon.

He’ll debate with you if stealing to protect himself from boredom or the brain itch of realllllllllly wanting that item is a valid loophole though!

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Do not sneak attack when a fair battle is possible.

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Flare isn’t necessarily one for sneak attacks, even if he has no issue employing them regardless of the ‘fairness’ of the battle. He often marches right up to his enemies, who, confused by his boldness that often falls into the range of being straight up suicidal, are rarely ready for him to launch into the levels of extreme aggression he is capable of, especially when he outwardly exhibits no means of causing notable levels of damage.

It truly depends on what the person has done to trigger his ire, but usually when such is triggered he will simply go straight into mauling whatever angered him, no warning and no declaration of battle. It is less a battle and more a vicious one sided attack resulting in murder.

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There is no honour in being outnumbered, use usually unfair tactics to even the playing field when the odds are stacked against you.

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The one and only rule of Valfrey’s that he can get behind. Flare often picks fights in which he’s at the disadvantage, causing him to employ surprisingly creative and effective tactics to gain an upper hand in a fight.

Flare’s primary tactic is to make combative use of his mind reading ability. By using such, he can see where his opponent will try to dodge to, allowing him to immediately turn his attack to that position, or get some kind of warning as to what his opponent(s) might have planned and counterattack. While he is unhinged and spontaneous, operating off the concept of ‘if I don’t know what I’m doing you sure as hell don’t’, he will briefly and with a surprising rate of success preform tactical actions based on what he gathers from his mind reading.

He is not afraid to fight dirty.

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Respect yourself, keep yourself healthy and well groomed.

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Respect is a concept Flare has very, very little of, much less respect for himself. Often at the whim of a self directed sadism, he will often cause himself harm or even cause his own death just for kicks and mental stimulation. Sometimes, death comes because he couldn’t be bothered to care for himself, he could tell you in graphic detail what the process of starving to death actually feels like.

He often looks like he has stuck his hand in a toaster, bags under his eyes are common, all too often some bone is fractured or broken and not being tended to, or some stab wound has been patched up in a messy hurry.

He insists there’s little reason to dedicate a lot of time and care to his vessel. It is replaceable and temporary. If he dies, or gets lethally hurt, he can simply make a new one. His attachment to himself, his vessel, even his identity, is held together by a few highly strained threads that might just snap at any second.

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Stay true to your principles.

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Hypocrisy is his middle name. Probably. Does his kind have middle names? He hates hypocrites. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he hates himself so much.

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Do not slaughter your own kin (members of your clan or similar concepts) unless they strike first.

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Oh look at that, one whole brownie point for him. He almost killed one of his kind, Jokull’s assigned partner, but he didn’t. And he’s not come in direct contact with any other members of his kind since.

But there’s not much stopping him from killing another member of his kind should they meet. They’ll probably just reincarnate anyways.

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Take vengeance on those who have wronged you or your kin.

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Oh he will. And he is. Not his kin, he doesn’t have any. But for himself absolutely. Kind of… Not really- he never has ever taken any kind of revenge on Jakob, or whoever it was who gave him the fatal logic error.

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Be polite and respectful to those who deserve it.

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For as smart as Flare is you could probably win a bet with him by telling him you’ll give him something if he can define two words of your choice, and if he needs to give you something.

And he’ll agree because he thinks you’re gonna pull out a word like pseudonym or tacenda, only you tell him to define politeness and respect and he just gives you a death glare instead.

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If one serves something like a clan or leader that disrespects them or otherwise goes against their principles the clan does no longer deserve to be named kin.

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….well, the queen can’t go against her principles of treating the society like a hive when she’s the one who set it up like that. And then Nightmare had no principles to begin with so can you REALLY break rules if they don’t even exist? But Flare would argue they’re both bitches so, maybe, that counts.

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Do not disrespect Valfrey.

Uhhh- Flare I don’t think that’s a good idea-

[herzspalter]

Rise of the Beasts spoiler thoughts:

I had a guy next to me who got really nitpicky with their buddy about Elena being stupid for standing so close to Airazor going rogue, but I genuinely don't think that was the character being dumb for the script. That felt like an impulsive bad decision to me that someone might do in her position. She wanted to help and didn't think twice about how small she is. I don't know, characters doing something stupid isn't always bad writing, sometimes people do dumb shit irl too because they got tunnel vision and, in her case, just wanted to help because someone was in distress.

I personally never enjoy ultra violent Optimus Prime killing people left and right, but it didn't bother me as much here as it does in the other live action movies. He's not presented as the perfect guy, he's flawed and frustrated, and even though I prefer Optimus being a gentle but stern guy, I don't mind him Scorpion-Fatality-killing a dude in this because I think within the context of the movie, it makes sense. I always hated him in the Bay-directed movies because he's presented as this perfect hero, but he also kills people who are defenceless and begging for their lives, and that just doesn't work for me :) Crazy, I know!

This movie wasn't a big jack off session for America so I liked that a lot, the other live action movies are a fucking propaganda fest (I havent seen Bumblebee so I dont know about that one)

I like that the US military isn't a part in this movie at all thank god, but I'm worried about the GI Joe stuff at the end. GI joe is extremely stupid and can be a lot of fun if treated with the silliness that the original cartoon is, but man I hope they don't turn this into military propaganda :( I know they very likely will because that's what GI Joe is, but I can still wish hahaha

I like Noah, he reminded me of Raoul from G1, I think both him and Elena are likeable, I didn't mind hanging out with them

Mirage is MVP I'm so happy Mirage finally gets to do something