#AUGH JUST REALIZED I FORGOT HIS BLUE HAIR

[grilde1chesse]

drew scenemo leon (^_^)

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Deerest Howard

Author: The_Reverend

Year: 2010

Rating: G

Pairing: Howard Moon/Old Gregg, Howince

“Howard…”

It wasn’t just the way that Vince said his name, like he does when they’re neck-deep in some serious (albeit ridiculous) trouble about to collide head-on with even more serious (and ridiculous) trouble, it was also the look on Vince’s face as Howard stepped onto the landing and found Vince standing in the middle of the flat, eyes wide and mouth slack.

Howard was pretty sure someone’s must have died. Or Jagger had gone bald. Hard to tell with Vince.

“What is it, Vince? What’s happened?” Howard dropped his jazzercise bag and rushed across the room to grab Vince by the shoulders. “Have I gotten a call? Has someone… Is it my dad? Say something Vince!”

Vince swallowed, sort of half smiled. “Funny you should mention your dad, Howard…”

“Oh, no.” Howard cried, dropped his arms to his sides and sagged.

“Here,” Vince said, turning away from Howard’s Russian Sorrow to fetch something from the coffee table. He held it up.

It was a fish bowl.

“Look, Vince, I don’t have time for a game of Xooberonian Go Fish, alright. I haven’t even gotten the taste out of my mouth from last time, and besides, I’m a man in mourning!” Howard’s face crumpled. “Father!”

“Look, Howard, your dad’s not dead.”

“Oh. He isn’t? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Would you just hold your trumpets, you berk!” Vince snapped and shoved the fishbowl into Howard’s arms, then turned to fetch something else from the table. Howard looked into the bowl. It was a strange looking fish. A green fish with… pink fins? Was that a moustache? Did it just smile at him?

“Here,” Vince said, holding out a damp, crumpled, and stained sheet of paper. “This came with it.”

Howard took the letter, balancing the bowl in one hand. It was written in a wavy scrawl, in multiple colors.

Deerest Howard, my sweat man peech. You holde in your big, stronge hands the frute of our gloryus onion yunion. As soon as I squeezed him out of my gloweing mangyna, I decided he belonged with his fother, that’s you, my peech. I hope you can give him the lyfe I cant, in you’re big citty with you’re fansy lady wyfe, and rase our Younge Gregg up to live amonge the humens, like I never culd. Youll forgive the dampness of this letter, that’s just my salty teers, not teers of sadness but pane, as I’ve cut my fut on a broken bottle of Bailey’s. See, theirs some of my bludd their. You’res forevver, Olde Gregg Pee Ess: I got a mobyle now. Giv me a ringading if you neede any advice. I half to screene my calls, thou, so leave me a voycemale and I’ll get back to you. I’m Olde Gregg! Pee Ess Ess: Since you culdn’t be their for the berth, I made you a watercolour of the big event.

As if on cue, Vince handed him another, even more moist and wrinkled paper. Howard looked at it and frowned, then turned it sideways.

“I think it’s a close-up,” Vince offered.

Howard paled. “Oh God.”

“I know, it’s quite realistic!”

“No, Vince,” Howard said as he sat down heavily on the sofa, tossing the letter and painting aside, fish bowl still in his hand. “I don’t know how this could have happened.”

Vince sat next to him. “Oh, I bet you can figure it out.”

“I mean, we were…” Howard made a strange gesture with his free hand.

“Careful?” Vince suggested.

“Well I was certainly careful not to be murdered, but…”

“Maybe a bit overexcited?”

“Traumatized, more like.”

“Forgot a johnny, did you?”

“Oh God.”

“Look, it’s alright, Howard.” Vince rubbed his shoulder, “You’ll make a great dad. Well… a responsible dad, at least. He’ll be the safest, most organized kid in Shoreditch.”

Howard considered this. It would be nice to have someone to whom he could pass on his love of well organized stationery.

“And women love single fathers, Howard.”

“Yeah?”

“’Course. I mean… if that’s what you want.”

“But it’s not even a child, Vince, it’s more a pet, really.” Howard held up the bowl and looked at his son, daughter, fish. Brown eyes stared into black.

“No way, Howard, think of it like this, yeah? His mum, or whatever, was half human, you’re all human, he’s half you and, well… I ain’t really good at maths but I know that makes him a bit more human!”

Howard rubbed his chin, considering. He couldn’t do the math either.

“But I can’t raise a child on my own!”

Vince shrugged. “I could help.”

Howard made a strange face, “Yeah thanks, Vince. But you’ll get bored won’t you? You can’t take a child to a club, you know.”

“Get stuffed, I helped to raise baby animals in the jungle loads of times, plus you know I’m a gifted child. I could really get on well with the little guy. And anyway,” Vince leaned in to get a better look at Howard’s swimming offspring, “I think he’s well cute.”

Howard looked closer. It was… kind of cute… in a green, scaly, moustachioed way, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Takes after his dad,” Vince said, smiling, and Howard realized just how close their faces were, both of them peering into the bowl.

“Do you love me?”

“What?” Howard asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” Vince said.

“Do you love me? Daddy?”

“Howard, I think…”

“Oh dear.”

________

There isn't much to do at first. Keep his bowl clean, give him fish flakes a few times a day, keep Vince from giving him sweets (and pretend not to see at least one or two of the times when he does), and talk to him. Life's never been very simple for Howard, even if there is a simple truth to him as a man. He knows not everyone visits other planets and lives with talking apes. But it somehow doesn't make it any less strange the first time he talks to his son. Gregg's vocabulary is simple at first, consisting mostly of the phrase "do you love me" and "mmm, creamy" and various Parliament lyrics, so that the first time Howard nervously asks Gregg "hey, where you from?" Gregg offers to lick his funky soul. But he's a clever little tadpole, seeming to grow and mature so much faster than normal--that is, less special children, so that it's not long before Gregg is responding in more usual childlike babble, repeating phrases even if he doesn't understand them. Vince helps as well. And if Young Gregg says "yeah?" and "genius!" a little more than Howard would like, he's not going to complain. Vince actually spends a lot of time with Gregg, to Howard's surprise, sits at the sales counter much of the day, Gregg's bowl on the counter next to him, reading Cheekbone aloud in a slow, careful way, pressing pictures against the glass for Gregg to see while he comments on trending fashions that are well out as soon as the pages are printed.

________

Some evenings he'll sit on the sofa with Gregg in his bowl on the end table, and read Charlie books, or turn on the telly and show him music videos until Howard comes along and makes them watch a documentary on bees or Uruaguay. Vince groans at this, but stays and watches them too. They learned quite quickly, thanks to Gregg’s frantic splashing and wailing, not to watch ones about sharks or octopi. At night Gregg sleeps in his bowl on Howard's bedside table. He doesn't sleep well. It's the biggest problem they've had with him. Howard will often wake to his tiny, watery whimpering to find Gregg, visible in the glow of the night light they bought just for him, staring down at him with a reasonable facsimile of Howard’s own beady-eyed misery. "What's wrong, little man," Howard will say, and touch Gregg's bowl, and sit up and speak low and quiet to him, trying not to wake Vince across the room, until Gregg settles again. He gets most of his sleep during the day, when Howard and Vince are both up and about and bustling around. “I’m really worried about him, Vince,” Howard says one morning as he shaves, quiet so as not to wake Gregg, asleep now that it’s morning and the house is awake. Vince stands in the doorway in pants and socks and a tee, twisting his toe into the carpet. “Me, too,” he says. Howard looks at him in the mirror. There’s genuine concern on his pointy face. At any other time, any other subject, it would be comical, what with Vince’s hair all askew as he bites his lip, eyes wide and downturned.

“Really?” Howard asks. “’Course,” Vince sounds offended, “poor little guy. I remember what it was like, awake all night in the jungle when Brian was on tour and Jahooli was visiting his sister in Somerset. I couldn’t sleep, all alone in the treehouse, monkeys chattering outside the windows, the wind whistling through the bus tickets. Augh, it was a nightmare, Howard!” “Well this is hardly the jungle is it? Or a cave beneath a lake. It’s safe here. He’s completely safe.” “Yeah but he might not know that. Something’s wrong, Howard, the way he cries like that. It’s well heartbreaking.” Howard nods, rinses his face and dries it with a towel before he turns to Vince. “Wait a minute, how do you know what it sounds like? You sleep through it.” “As if I could!” Vince’s says, voice high but still soft, face full of concern, not irritation at being woken as Howard might expect. “I wake up every time, I hear you cooing and calming him. It’s quite sweet really.” He looks down. “Only, I don’t get out of bed ‘cause… I just reckon, you know, it ain’t my place.” Howard feels a swell of affection for Vince, frowning at his own socked feet, arms crossed defensively, concerned for someone besides himself. “Of course it is, Vince,” he says, putting a hand to Vince’s shoulder and squeezing when Vince looks up at him, blue eyes wide and soft, and Howard means to say something meaningful and encouraging, but then he realizes his hand is still on Vince’s shoulder, and instead he mumbles about tea and brushes past him in the doorway. ________ Gregg is awake by breakfast and swimming laps in his little bowl where it sits on the kitchen table. He and Vince seem to be in some secret confidence, Vince eyeing Howard over his shoulder when he thinks he’s not looking, and Gregg flitting from one side of his bowl to the other, alternately communicating with Vince in some wordless, child-fish way, then back to the other side to watch Howard’s back. Howard pretends not to notice, either being watched or their real goal, to feed Gregg bits of syrup-soaked pancakes. He whistles while he cooks, adding fishy puree to a small cup of batter. Bollo eyes Gregg’s bowl warily when an overexcited Gregg splashes water onto the table. “Bollo not think that sanitary,” he says. “You’re not sanitary, you grumpy monkey,” Naboo says, then flashes Vince a far-off but reassuring smile before he goes back to reading the Shaman Daily. “Bollo not see why Harold’s fish so special.” “Because he’s not my fish, Bollo,” Howard says defensively, pointing at Bollo with a rather dangerous looking spatula. “He’s my son. And I’ll thank you to refer to him that way!” “Him fishy freak.” “Oi!” “Whoa there!” “Alright, you prick!” Howard’s glad to have the rest of the house to back him up, but the combined outburst is loud and sudden, and in the silence that follows there’s a tiny noise, a sniffle, a whimper, and by the time they’ve all turned to look at the little bowl on the table, the fish-child within it, Gregg’s cries have started in earnest, loud and wobbly, bubbling up out of the water in great sobs. “You’ve frightened him!” Vince says to Bollo, screwing his face up in his best cockney snarl. “Not Bollo,” Bollo says, “you ballbags.” “I’ll have you, you... Christ I can’t even get my cockney bitch on.” Vince says, suddenly more miserable than angry. “Howard, fix him!” Howard picks up Gregg’s bowl and peers inside, his face big in the glass. “C’mon, little man, it’s okay.” “You’re just gonna scare ‘im more like that,” Naboo suggests. “I got somewhat could calm him down.” “No!” Howard and Vince shout in unison, upsetting Gregg further. “Oh, Howard… why’s he crying? I can’t stand it. Makes my heart all squeezy.” “He’s only startled, Vince. It’ll pass.” But Howard doesn’t feel as sure as he sounds. “Here, Howard, try this!” Vince says, trotting softly but quickly to the stereo and rifling through albums. “What are you doing?” Vince drops a record on the turntable. “Bowie, yeah?" Howard shakes his head. "How's that going to help? Wouldn't he prefer Parliament or Rick James, all things considered? Or maybe Coltrane?" "No way, Howard. He's got to have some awful associations with funk by now. And no one needs jazz. You want to kick him while he's down? But Bowie always mellows me out. And he loves it, we listened to it the other day, he did flips out of his bowl, it was genius!” “He can do flips?” “Yeah, you were down in the shop, it was that day I took off for personal hair reasons. We touched up my roots and listened to ‘Space Oddity’ on repeat.” “He can do flips?” “Look, just… everybody quiet, alright?” Howard looks down at the bowl in his hand, feeling helpless as Gregg looks up at him, eyes wide and pitiful, crying endlessly. The music starts, quiet and slow, and Gregg just continues to cry, gulping in little mouthfuls of water now and then. It’s difficult to watch. Howard didn’t think it was possible to feel so miserable. Suddenly there’s a ripple on the water that shouldn’t be there, and Howard is surprised to find his cheeks wet with his own tears. He quickly wipes them away and holds Gregg’s bowl out so there aren’t any more mishaps like with the koi carp. “How’s he doin’?” Vince asks, stepping closer. “Oh, well,” Howard looks and, to his surprise, Gregg’s stopped crying. He’s only frowning. But soon he’s waving his little tail and pushing himself along in time, and before the song’s over Howard gets to see him do a flip, fishy mouth grinning wide as he arcs gracefully and splashes neatly back into the bowl. Howard beams. Gregg smiles up at him. And Vince kisses his cheek. If Vince notices the salty taste of dried tears, he doesn’t mention it. _____ That night when Howard wakes once again to soft, watery cries, Vince is already padding lightly across the room. “He alright?” Vince asks, face drawn and sleepy in the dim glow of the night light. He sits on the edge of Howard’s bed and rubs at his eyes. Howard pushes himself up onto an elbow to check on Gregg who’s still sniffling but no longer whimpering. Vince leans in and smiles at him and Gregg presses his face against the glass and smiles back, then goes about his business of lazy night-swimming. Howard watches the affectionate exchange. “It’s you,” he says when Vince turns to him, smiling still, although it slips when Vince asks what he means. “You’re why he cries. I mean, because he wants you.” He pushes himself up in bed. “That’s not true, Howard, he just—“ Vince tries to argue but Howard knows there’s isn’t any denying it. “Howard…” He says softly. “It’s alright, Vince. Everyone loves you, don’t apologize for it.” “What, everyone?” Vince asks with a suggestive smirk but Howard ignores it, watching his hands, dark against the pale sheets. “I don’t think I’m right for this, Vince. Maybe I’m not meant to be a father. I didn’t even know he could do flips! Maybe… maybe he’d have been better off with his moth—with Gregg.” Vince scoffs. “I know that ain’t true.” “Look,” Howard says, breathing heavily, “you take him alright, let him sleep with you.” Vince draws back a bit, as if Howard has suggested he take tuba lessons. “No way, I won’t do that! He belongs with you, Howard, you’re a great dad. He’s just, you know, well I spend a lot of time with him, yeah? I’m more like a mate. Maybe—“ “Just take him, Vince.” Howard reaches out and picks up Gregg’s bowl, pushes it into Vince’s chest so that he has no choice but to take it. “Howard…” Vince looks miserable. Looking at him, brows drawn in concern, holding the familiar bowl, Howard feels almost like he did that morning. “Please,” he says, and waits for Vince to argue. When he doesn’t, Howard slides back down beneath the sheets, and turns over onto his side, his back to Vince and his son. After a moment he feels the bed shift, feels Vince stand and hears him walk across the room. The gentle sound of the Gregg’s bowl being sat on Vince’s bedside table is as loud as a shot in his heart. He’d been wrong. It is possible to feel more miserable. He tries to sleep. He can’t of course. So he’s awake when the sniffling begins again. “Howard,” Vince says as he taps Howard’s shoulder, standing beside his bed, Gregg’s bowl in hand. “What’s wrong Vince?” But he already knows. “It ain’t me, Howard. I think…” Vince places the bowl back where it belongs, next to Howard’s bed, and Howard turns to watch even as Vince sits again. As before, Gregg quickly quiets and settles, watching them through the glass. Howard looks up at Vince, astonished. Vince smiles softly. “I think it’s both of us, Howard.” Before Howard knows he’s doing it, he hears himself laughing quietly. “Shift a bit?” Vince asks and Howard does, allowing Vince to crawl in bed beside him. “Just…” Howard says. “I know!” Vince whispers with his hands raised in the universal gesture of ‘I won’t touch you!’ They’re almost asleep when something occurs to Howard. “Maybe you’re not so much a mate,” he says, “more like… a step dad?” “Step mum?” Vince suggests in a sleepy slur and Howard agrees with an amused hum. _________ In the morning Howard wakes beneath a pile of Vince, and Gregg’s so hard and fast asleep he’s practically floating. Howard has to tap the bowl to stop himself panicking, watches as Gregg twitches and swims a bit, still asleep. Howard sighs in relief, then settles back down against the bed and, in defiance of all his own rules of timeliness and efficiency, tucks in for a bit more sleep. At breakfast Vince whispers into the bowl, breath rippling the water as Gregg nods with childish glee. Howard watches. He’s not sure it’s possible to be more happy. Bollo lumbers in, shoulders drooping, clearly feeling the glares of the others as he sits at the table. "Morning, Bollo," Howard says as he sips his tea, hoping to dispel the tension. Bollo hangs his head when Naboo glares at him. "Bollo sorry he insult Howard's fish-- er, son," he corrects when Naboo kicks his hairy shin with a curly shoe. "Him not fishy freak. Well, maybe him fishy freak, but Bollo talking ape. Live in stone house. Throw glass." "Thanks, Bollo," Howard says. "Go on, then," Vince is whispering to Gregg who shyly swims to face Bollo's end of the table. He opens his little red lips as if to speak, but only bubbles come out. He looks at Vince for approval. "S'alright, he deserves it." "Vince, what--" but Howard is interrupted by Gregg's excited, watery voice. "Uncle Bollo is a monkey idiot!" "Vince! Gregg!" Howard cries. Vince only laughs and Gregg joins him, swimming circles around his bowl. Naboo grins, although it's not really any different from the expression he's been wearing all morning. "Sorry, Bollo," Howard says, but Bollo's too busy watching Gregg's antics with surprised affection. "Bollo always wanted to be uncle. Not in creepy way. Bollo teach him ways of the jungle. And DJ skills." "I was thinking I might share a few Shaman secrets with him, bit of basic magic. Potions, yeah? He could be my apprentice." "No way, he's going to be the first hybrid merman popstar! My glam rock protégé! Right, Howard? Howard?" But Howard's too busy smiling his unsettling smile at the group gathered around the breakfast table, heart fit to burst like a trumpet blast, surrounded by this unlikely group that is apparently, illogically, his family.

[designationpinknoise]

Transformer X OC scenarios: It’s an earthling thing.

(Idw)

Sleep: Drift/Yuki :this was before they got together

The first time Drift ever saw an organic sleep was quite a nerve wracking one, he walked into his hab suite and noticed it was eerily silent "Yuki?" he called usually she greets him or is sitting on her makeshift bed reading. but, not today...he scanned the room cautiously; keeping his hand on his sword in case something happened, when a tiny form laying on his berth caught his optic, Drift felt his spark sink when he realized it was Yuki.

He rush over to his berth reached for his small friend; only to freeze when she suddenly whimpered and rolled over, he watched the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest every time she took a breath; she looked very calm almost like she were meditating , he frowned before comming Ratchet who said she was napping or Micro-charging, When Yuki woke up she nearly had a heart attack seeing Drift staring at her.

"D-Drift, what are you doing?"

" watching you sleep, you looked very tranquil."

"I noticed, why were you watching me?"

"Because you weren't moving and I thought you were hurt."

The brunette felt flattered that he was worried about her, though Drift was curious about something else "But, here's a question for you," the white swords-mech said watch her stretch "Why in my berth?" he smirk as he watched her ears turn pink.

Rodimus & Kid!Amber: Lose teeth

(this takes place when Rodimus was still on earth and acted Amber's guardian/foster parent.)

Rodimus frowned from his desk as he watched his little charge stare morosely at her apple slices, "Sweetspark are you alright?" he asked, the little girl nodded staring down at her plate "Amber Rose-Roderick, don't lie to me." the 7 year old flinched when he full-named her.

"I know something's bothering you haven't spoken a word today and barely eaten anything" he pointed out her odd behavior then narrowed his eyes "...is someone bullying you?" the blue eyed girl shook her head he got up went to her little area.

"Are you sick?" he put a digit to her forehead only for the little girl to swat it away, shook her head again, and muttered something, he hummed then leaned "Come again?" Amber growled "I sthed em Phine!" she lisped before the flame colored mech could say anything she grabbed one of the slices shoved into her mouth; then started chewing then froze when she felt her gums hurt and something hard in her mouth.

"Amber?" he heard something crunch that didn't sound like a an apple, she spat into her plate and Rodimus's optics widened when he saw a tooth laying in the tiny puddle of saliva,energon and chewed up apple he looked back at his charge then,

back at the tooth, Amber, tooth, Amber, tooth, {Computer dial up sounds,,,}*Bing* "Ratchet?!?!..." in the end Rodimus ran into Carly on the way to the med bay; who explained it was normal for children to start losing their baby teeth at Amber's age he skeptical, but took her word for it.

Present day

19 year old Amber cringed as her boyfriend told the story of how she lost her first tooth, her face a lovely shade of dark magenta as the bots giggled; "I still have a few of her baby teeth." he said causing her to look at him mortified. "Why?" he shrugged "Carly gave me a little box and said should keep a memento of the occasion." then he remember something "Oh speaking of which you seen when she got chicken pox, it was adorable!~" as the bots snickered at her as she screamed in horror and ran out of Swerve's "Babe where you going?"

Brainstorm&Sybil: Cracking Joints

It was a pretty quiet day on the lost light, very slow to, when Brainstorm decided to visit his favorite, little E-type, well he got to her room, she answered looking frustrated and tired her mismatched eyes found and lit up when she saw him when she but, it seemed forced as she let him in.

"Hi stormy! what brings you here?"

"Oh, just a slow day on the Lost light, figured I'd see how you were doing?"

"I'm fine except for this damn kink in my damn back..."

"Kink?"

He walked up to her, curiously and Sybil awkwardly told him were to put hands, and she inhaled held her breath "Okay push!" he pushed into her spine as the sandy haired girl exhaled, Brainstorm nearly jumped out of his armor when these loud pops came from Sybil's back causing her yelp then sigh contently before the mech grabbed her shoulders,

"What was that sound? did I hurt you?" he asked panicking looking for any signs of pain. "Nope, just popped my back in the right place.~" she said rubbing her neck then stretched, Brainstorm's  worry was suddenly replaced, Need  watching her body tighten up, and the fact she wearing nothing but a sports bra and tiny shorts probably on her way to the training room before he got there. "You since you're dressed for it, I have a work out we can do,~" he said slyly bringing his servo up to one of her butt cheeks and squeezed as Sybil's face turned bright pink.  

Prime

Prowl and Janis: sight

"Gah!" Prowl jumped back in shock as he was his mate remove some weird clear thing from her optic, "What's wrong?" she asked in shock, as he looked at the odd covering then at his mate "What is that?" he frowned she looked at the cover on her finger tip, "My contact lenses?" she said as the police mech tilted his head incredulously, "They help me with my vision." she explained blinking a few times as she took the other one out.

"I'm near sighted."

"You're...blind?"

"No,not like that! Everything within 39 inches of my face is blurry, it worse in my right eye."

"How long have you had these... contact lens?"

She blushed rummaged around one of her boxes and showed him a photo, Prowl tilted his helm as he looked at the younger girl in the photo she had longer hair and wore glasses "is this you?" he asked she nodded think I just about to graduate middle school and Ai Lin and Ryann dragged me the eye doctors and told to try them," she flinched at the memory...

Mini-flashback

"But I like my glasses..." Janis said looking at her friends as they stood in front of the optometrist, "come of Janis it'll be fine, you been wearing glasses since elementary, wouldn't you like to change?" Ryann said the blonde shuffled nervously as Ai butted in,

"And you don't have to risk them being stolen or broken and wiping them off every time you walk into a warm building." Janis went to protest about what if she lost them or forgot to take them out, but the two girls had already dragged her inside. Janis was escorted into the exam room.

while her two friend sat in the waiting room, then heard Janis freaking out the exam room opened and a whimpering crying Janis came out wiping her eyes, as the doctors handed her prescription, as Ryann and Ai Lin nodded and thanked the staff before walking to a coffee shop, when they got inside;

Janis's glasses fogged up and she took them off to clean someone knocked into her back causing her to drop them, the hazel eyed girl heard Ai Lin and Ryann yelling at someone before finding her glasses and winced he right lens had a perfectly round pea sized chip in the bottom corner.

"Guys I think I'll reconsider those contacts...."

---

"Had them since," she said putting on her reading glasses as Prowl faced turned neutral she looked at up at him, "Though I'll freaked out that forget to take the out that's stupid, eh?" her bot still didn't say anything, Janis stared at him concerned "Prowl?" the police mech fans kicked on, :: | By Primus she's hot! :: | he mentally screamed before glitching out.

Megatron & Temperance: hair

"augh...I need to cut my hair." Temperance mumbled it was getting too long, and was becoming a hindrance to take care of, she walked down the street and into a hair dressers about ten minutes later one of the vehicons pulled up, to building and a man with a purple buzz-cut red sun-glasses and black suit, got out he walked in,

"Miss Monroe? Lord Megatron has...what?" he awkwardly stared as Temperance finished paying the hairdresser, then looked at Steve who looked at her shock "what happened to that stringy stuff on your head?" he asked looked at her now shoulder length hair.

"I cut it off, What does Megs need?" she asked the vehicon looked sick awkwardly as gestured to his alt-mode still staring at her shorter hair oddly, needles to say Temperance did turned a few helms as she followed Steve to megaton's quarters, then they got there Megatron nodded at them then did a double take when he saw Temperance and mass displaced.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your hair! it's short!"

"Oh, I had it cut."

The warlord gave her the same look Steve gave her, "why? why would you do something like that?" he demanded as he awkwardly used one of his claws to examined her side swept bangs, "Because it was bothering me, and expensive to take care of?" she said with shrug while Megatron seemed to be looking, for something,

"I just don't understand why you would mutilate yourself like this?" he said running he claws through it carefully Temperance was floored Mutilate, why would he think...oh; they all must've thought her hair was literally a body part and she just amputated it "Oh, no no! It's didn't hurt."

Megatron looked very confused. "besides it'll grow back." his red optics widened, "It grows?!" six months later, sure enough her hair was almost back to it's original length, thought Temperance still trimmed it from time to time to the war-lord dismay as he was still a little skeptical about it.      

Bayverse

Lambo twins x Witwicky twins: Heartbeats

It was a slow day for the lambo twins they were in holo-forms sat on the bleachers watching watching Kendra's track meet, a few people cheered as the runners made passed the finish line. Kenny nearly fell over before being picked up by Sideswiped,

who gave her a sly grin "Good job. Kenny" the out of breath girl gave him a tired smile and hugged him to her before he could protest about her being sweaty, "whoa!" the bi-color eyed girl blinked and pulled away thinking she hurt him,

only for Sides to hug her tightly to him causing her to wrap her legs around him from the sudden action "Side-duh Sydney!? what are you d-doing? she said as people giving them odd looks, and sly grins and few jealous glances, he just purred as Sunstreaker and and Billie came up behind them

"Bro? what are you doing?"

"Her spark...."

"Huh? she doesn't have... what about it."

"It's making a sound...a nice sound..."

Kendra's face started to heat up"It's getting faster..." the red haired twin said as""Sunder"" saw her ears starting to change color, and threw a towel over her before anyone saw her true colors(1), while Billie did crowd control "yeah, yeah nothing to see here.." just a Sides put Kendra down "hey I'm gonna go shower real, quick see out front" she kissed Sideswipe on the cheek, Billie followed her as Sides look at his brother curiously "what?" Sunny hissed "aren't you little bit curious, to hear it?" the blonde avatar tsk'd and walked back to his alt-mode.

A few hours later

the Lambo's now massed displaced sat in the Witwicky's basement Sides and Kenny were playing video games while Billie was working on an art project, before taking a break to get a drink when heard a growl of protest then, she vaguely remembered a weight on her and though it was Mojo or Frankie, But nope it was a shrunk down Sunstreaker with his helm to her chest, the older Witwicky twin felt her face heat up, as the marigold mech purred cuddling closer to her chest, Sideswipe was right it is a nice sound...

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