#Track Thruster

[tomoleary]

Jack Kirby’s concept art for children’s shows, including Aquamarine, Escape from Game World, Future Girl, Ground Grabber and Track Thruster, Micromites and Mighty Misfits.

https://www.popculturesafari.com/2022/03/check-out-wild-gallery-of-jack-kirby.html

[thewidowsledger]

Looking Out For Three

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairing: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Tags | Warnings: +18, Natasha has a penis (no smut though yet), pregnant reader, kinda gruesome details of organ taking/trafficking, self-destruction if you squint, angst, bad writing

Author's Note: This is a scheduled post; I just recently lost my cousin so I may not be able to be active here for some time but I’ll for sure check in once in a while. Happy reading! I hope you're all having a good time.

MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

⧗

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

⧗

After Natasha had taken care of Strange, her focus immediately returned to you. Seeing your unconscious form, her heart broke as she frantically searched for something to cover your exposed stomach.

She found a blanket and tore it into a small piece and she gently draped it over your stomach, her hands trembling, staring at your wounded stomach. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at you, whispering words of apology.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, her voice choking with emotion. “I should've listened to you last night, if I knew you wouldn’t…you wouldn't…” Natasha gasped for air but still trying to hold back a sob, she finally looked at your face. She held your hands and pecked a kiss all over it.

“I could've lost you, detka. I can't let that happen…I’ll never forgive myself if I lost you.”

“Everything's going to be okay. You, me, and our baby,” she smiled at the thought, wiping some tears on her face, “We're going to be a happy family.”

Tony landed with a heavy thud, the suit's thrusters kicking up a cloud of dirt and debris. Bucky quickly joined him, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. A doctor's body lying on the floor, unrecognizable as its face has a lot of holes in it.

He started to move towards you and Natasha, but Natasha's steely glare made him stop in his tracks.

Yelena tried to approach her sister and offered her help but Natasha ignored her as well. The expression on her face was cold and distant, her only priority was getting you to safety. She carried you in a bridal style and the rest of the team watched, unsure of what to do, as Natasha carried out of the room and started heading onto the Quinjet.

⧗

Steve and Tony spoke quietly to each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Tony couldn't provide any concrete answers, but he did share one unsettling detail. He projected a hologram display, showing the scans of the doctor's body. The bullet holes were highlighted in red, showing exactly where each of the 21 shots had landed. The lone bullet in the shoulder was also indicated by a separate red mark.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the tiny screen. “21 bullets to the head and one in the shoulder.”

The team winced as they took in the information, their gazes shifting to Natasha, who was still holding your hand in her lips.

Tony shrugged, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I'm not judging,” he said. “I've done my fair share of blasting people in the head too.”

The team started to look your way, their gazes shifting towards your unconscious body and Natasha, but then they quickly averted them when they saw Natasha glaring at them. They scrambled to look busy, trying to avoid her disapproving glare.

In an attempt to look as if they weren't just staring at your unconscious body and Natasha sitting close to you, Sam awkwardly broke the silence by pointing at the glassed windows of the Quinjet, “Wow, a bird.”

His words hung awkwardly in the air, only to be met with Natasha's continued glare and the team's collective facepalm at his failed attempt to diffuse the tension.

⧗

When the Quinjet landed on the compound, the team immediately got up and was welcomed by Clint as the door of the Quinjet slowly opened. He already knew what happened and he was on leave since Laura just gave birth to their third child.

He walked towards the bed where your unconscious body was laying.

“Hey Nat.”

She didn't answer, but as soon as Clint touched the bed to help her get you out the Quinjet Natasha swiftly pulled a gun and pointed it towards his head.

“Nat…” Clint called, the team became frozen in place at the sight.

“Don't touch her.” She said her voice was hoarse and shaky.

“Yes, I'm not touching her. I am touching the bed,” he offered a logical argument, his tone gentle as he tried to diffuse the situation. He immediately but slowly moved his hands away from the stretcher you were in and put them in the air where Natasha could see.

The room's tension rose even more as the team started calling her out.

“Romanoff.” Tony called in a warning.

“Natasha.” It sounded more authoritative coming from Maria.

“Natasha, calm down.” Steve’s voice joined the fray, calling out gently.

“Back down! No one gets to touch her!” Natasha furiously exclaimed.

Natasha's grip on her gun tightened further, she pushed the tip of the gun on the back of Clint’s head, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.

A ripple of tension ran through the group everytime Natasha spoke. The atmosphere in the room immediately grew heavy, and the team members instinctively also tightened their grip on their own weapons.

“No one’s gonna hurt Y/N, Nat…please.” Clint reassured pleadingly.

“Shut the fuck up!”

And with that a loud thud echoed through the Quinjet with Natasha’s unconscious body laying on the floor. Yelena, her sister sulking at the corner with her hands clenched into fists pointed towards where Natasha was and her widow's bite smoking.

“Izvini, sestra.” (Sorry, sister)

⧗

Dr. Cho launched into her report, clearly concerned about the oversight. Wanda, Steve and Bruce were in the medbay with you.

“So no one noticed the bleeding on her head?” the doctor repeated incredulously. The room fell silent for a moment, and then Steve spoke up.

“Natasha wouldn’t let us near her.”

“Yeah,” Bruce confirmed, “She came before the team, I prepped the stretcher and she immediately snatched it away from me, not even letting me help her.”

Wanda clenched her jaw in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she listened to the two about what happened. She couldn't help but feel annoyed and frustrated with Natasha's behavior, which had led to your current situation. If Natasha had just been a little more cooperative and let the team help her help you, you would've been fine and awake by now. Instead, you were lying unconscious in the medbay, not sure when you're going to wake up.

“And no one knew that she's pregnant?” Dr. Cho added that made the three wince in guilt, how could they not notice? You live in the same place for god's sake, in the same compound.

Wanda was particularly hard on herself, her face filled with guilt. She’s your best friend and you two had spent so much time together, she felt ashamed that she didn’t notice anything different about you, especially since the two of you are inseparable when Natasha was away for 2 months.

You always had a morning walk together, gets to shop together, you two always watched sitcoms together and trained together. Wanda could only remember a moment when she had accidentally hit you in the abdomen during combat training, and you had collapsed on the floor laughing at the witch. You were for sure pregnant at that time and Wanda could only wince at the memory hoping that hit didn't affect her growing niece at your stomach

And the fact that she covered up for you made her want to let the ground eat her, what if she just let JARVIS figure out that it was you who was pregnant? This wouldn't have happened to you…

“Don't worry, Y/N is stable" the doctor said reassuringly, “and she should wake up at any moment. However, we can't say for sure when that will be.”

She looked around the room, meeting the worried gazes of the team members who's nodding at her words.

“I’ll get her an ultrasound later which should give us more accurate information. For now let's give her body a break. And I need Romanoff here as soon as possible.”

⧗

Natasha tossed and turned in her sleep, distress written all over her face. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat at the bed, she took the place in where she was; it was your shared bedroom. She can feel her brain pounding inside her skull but still, she immediately got off the bed as the first thing she thought was you, she found herself frantically walking down a dimly lit hallway, approaching a closed door at its end.

As she neared the closed door, she noticed a soft glow and a bed with a woman laid out on it, bathed in a dim light. The sight invoked a pang of uneasiness in her, but she couldn’t shake the compulsion to get closer.

Natasha continued walking, drawn to the woman on the bed like a magnet. Each step seemed to echo loudly in the silent hallway, but she pushed onward until she was near the bed.

With a heavy heart, Natasha makes her way to the bedside of a woman who lies there lifeless and unseeing. Her eyes, hollow sockets staring into nothingness…

Her eyes scanned the woman's body, taking in every detail of the horror.

The ribcage splayed open like a grotesque butterfly…

The heart and lungs are missing, leaving a gaping hole…

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

The redhead's gaze lingers on the woman's lifeless hand, before her eyes widen in horror. She recognizes that hand, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she starts to panic.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she spots a manila folder beside the bed, within her grasp. With trembling hands, she snatches it up and flips it open, gasping as she scrolls through the contents.

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Natasha gasped in horror, she flips open the file, page after page of personal information and photographs spill out of the folder, painting a detailed portrait of your face and body. Each page she turns reveals more information about you, and with each turn, her heart drops further into the pit of her stomach.

This body that is lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and a baby taken out of it…

Is your body and your child. Her child.

“No…”

“No, no, no,” she gasped, “Fuck no!” She threw the folder away and your body was already gone in the bed.

She immediately shot her head around when she heard a faint cry of a baby, but as soon as she turned she saw a shadow of a woman carrying a baby.

She knows it was you only by its figure…

Your voice reached her ears, filled with desperation as you called out to her.

“Natty, love? Can we talk?”

“Help us, Natasha.”

“Natasha, please talk to me.”

“Natasha!”

“Natasha! Wake up!”

“No!”

Natasha jolted awake, the loud call of her name immediately took her away from the depths of her dream. She panicked as she found herself surrounded by the darkness of your shared bedroom. Clint was holding her and she immediately ripped herself away from him, her movements sharp and agitated.

“Hey,” Clint's voice was gentle, a calming presence amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “Natasha, breathe,” he urged, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder but Natasha flinched, “You’re okay, everything is fine.”

“Where's Y/N?” Natasha demanded, her voice husky and rushed as she moved away from the bed ignoring her best friend's concern for her because clearly, nothing is fine.

“Nat,” Clint circled the bed to get to Natasha and she immediately got into defensive form.

“Are we really gonna do this again?” He asked, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And that's when the memories came rushing back, flooding her senses with a torrent of emotions. She remembered the weight of her gun in her hand, the cold metal pressed against the back of her best friend's head and the team trying to calm her down. The last thing she saw was your stretcher above her.

Natasha's breath hitched as the memories overwhelmed her, and she felt her legs buckle under her. She reached out to grab onto the bed, her legs weak and unsteady. She had come dangerously close to losing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Natasha's voice shook as she apologized over and over again, her eyes filling with tears as she felt the weight of her emotions bearing down on her. She felt Clint's arms wrap around her once more, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

He tightened his grip on her, feeling the tremor that ran through her body. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing small circles on her back with his hand. “It’s okay. You're fine, Nat. You're safe here.”

Natasha nodded, taking a deep shuddering breath as she tried to collect herself. “Where's Y/N?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Clint, where is she? I need to see her.” Her eyes pleaded with him, searching for answers.

Clint could see the desperation in her gaze and knew exactly what she needed, you.

“You'll see her alright?” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “But right now I need you to rest.”

Natasha was about to refuse, she needs to see you now, but she knew better than to fight with her best friend. She needed to rest, to get her strength back before she gets to see you again. She nodded weakly, allowing Clint to help her up.

“You shower, get some fresh clothes and I’ll have some food over. After that you can see your girlfriend.”

⧗

Natasha worked diligently, her eyes alight with a soft and caring glow as she arranged everything on the bed. She had brought out all of your favorite blankets, each one softer and more comforting than the last. Her eyes landed on the strawberry plush, and her lips curved into a soft smile. She remembered how you had squealed with delight when she had won it for you at the basketball booth at a carnival.

“Hey Nat, you ready to go? Dr. Cho is waiting for you.”

Natasha startled at the sudden interruption, blinking as she tried to shake off her thoughts. “Oh, uh, yeah,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual. “Did she ask me to bring something? Does she want anything? Food? How's Y/N?” Natasha continuously asked as she put the blanket and pillow on a bag.

But Clint only muttered, “C’mon,” not wanting to break the news himself to her best friend. He’ll let Dr. Cho do the job on answering that.

Natasha felt her heart beat faster with each step as she and Clint made their way to the Medbay. She could feel her hands trembling, but she clenched them into fists at her sides, trying to keep her composure. As soon as she entered the medbay, she saw Dr. Cho and Wanda by your bedside. Her eyes immediately went to your unconscious form on the bed, her worry deepening. Why aren't you awake yet?

She felt Wanda's intense gaze on her and Natasha immediately put her face away from her direction, gripping the bag she brought. She couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort of the witch’s presence.

Dr. Cho, as if reading the room, asked Wanda and Clint to give them privacy.

When the two left the medbay, Natasha finally allowed herself to breathe. The witch's intense gaze had made her uneasy, adding to her worry about you. She let out a long sigh of relief as the doors closed behind them, leaving her alone with Dr. Cho.

“How are you feeling, Romanoff?” Dr. Cho started.

“I’m fine. How is she?” Natasha immediately asked as she put the bag down at the side table of your bed.

Natasha's eyes lingered on your unconscious form, she carefully held your hands and a sudden flash of her dream returned to her mind.

Your body lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and your baby taken out of it…

She immediately shut her eyes to remove the thought in her head, the urgency she felt in the dream now mirrored in the real world.

“Romanoff.”

Natasha's gaze snapped to Dr. Cho at the sound of her name, quickly trying to mask her panic with a cool, calm expression. She took a deep breath, her voice coming out steady and collected, “Yeah? H-how is she?” she asked once again.

“Y/N suffered a blow to the head, causing significant trauma. There's no way to predict when she'll regain consciousness...”

Natasha's brow pinched at Dr. Cho's words. The idea of you being unconscious, possibly for an extended period of time, weighed heavily on her. She searched for more information, “Are you saying she's in a coma?”

“A light one.” The doctor pointed out, correcting her.

“And the baby?”

Natasha's gaze shifted from your face and to the printed ultrasound image Dr. Cho handed her, she shakily reached out to get it and her other hand never leaving yours. Her features softened as she took in the small, blurred figure on the paper. “So that's our little one?” she murmurs, a touch of awe in her voice.

Dr. Cho nodded, smiling gently at Natasha's reaction. “Yes, that is your baby at 12 weeks. As you can see, the limbs are well-formed and the baby's major organs have started to develop…”

“Oh look at that! That's your baby Romanoff!”

“Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. All the organs, muscles, limbs and bones are in place.”

Natasha winced as Dr. Cho pointed out the tiny head, spine, and other features of the developing fetus to her, explaining that these details were visible at this stage of pregnancy. Natasha tries her best to listen attentively, but the memories are trying to get back in her head.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“You didn't know until now did you?”

“Oh, that's a shame.”

“You are a bad mother.”

“Romanoff, are you sure you're alright?” Dr. Cho asked, worry written all over her face as she noticed Natasha drifting off once again.

“Yeah,” she answered dismissively, “There's uhm uhh…a cut on her stomach—”

“It's all patched up now.” The doctor said reassuringly, not letting her finish.

“Can I uhm…can I have some time with Y/N alone?”

“Of course, whatever you need. I’ll leave you two now.” Dr. Cho tapped Natasha's shoulder for comfort as she retreated to the medbay.

Natasha swallowed thickly, her throat constricting as she finally, finally felt like she could breathe freely. It was just the two of you now and that's what she needed. The machines beeping in the background seemed to fade into the distance as Natasha's gaze locked onto your unconscious form.

She was acutely aware of the soft rise and fall of your chest as you slept, the gentle curve of your belly where your little bean settled.

“Detka, I need you to wake up now…” she said as she gently removed the blanket you had and replaced it with the ones she brought, which is your favorite one. She now pulled the strawberry plush and laid it beside your pillow.

“I need you to wake up so I can make it up to you.” Natasha gently brushed a strand of hair from your forehead.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as Natasha brought your hands to her lips, pressing a tender kiss before resting it gently on her cheek. She closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of your skin against hers before falling into slumber.

⧗

You slowly blinked your eyes open, your senses still groggy from whatever they put or injected in your body. Your left hand was wrapped around by a figure, holding it close as they slept sitting up right next to you on the bed.

Your right hand snatched the nasal cannula out of your nose and the IV lines that are connected to your forearm. Slowly, you pulled your left hand out of the tight hold of the figure sleeping beside your bed. You started to breathe hard, finding some support for you to stand up.

Natasha's eyes snapped open as she felt the bed movements and the warm hand she's holding is now out of her grasp.

“Baby? Hey…”

She felt alarmed hearing the machine beeping continuously and the oxygen out of you. You snatched everything that is connected to your body and now slowly moving away from the bed.

“Detka,” she called again, holding her hands out even though it's your back facing her.

But you didn't hear, there’s this loud thumping in your ears, you can feel as if someone is hammering your head, and the only thing you can see is a blur. Nothing is clear and you’re feeling numb.

You continued to move until your feet felt the cold tiled floor and that's when you lost consciousness for a second. You can only feel a warm body catching you, you locked eyes with the emerald ones before you feel your body taken out from her embrace.

⧗

Natasha paced back and forth outside the medbay, her mind racing as she waited for word about you. She was still reeling from the events that had led to this moment, and she couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that had settled into her bones.

“You deserve it.” Wanda’s words cutting through the air like a knife. “You're the reason why she's there.”

“Whatever is happening to you right now, you deserve it.” She spat, Natasha now sat outside the medbay, her hands over her head as she faced the floor. “I am one blink away from invading your mind, to see what happened but I respect Y/N so much. You deserve everything that you feel right now, every guilt and shame. You deserve what's happening to you but my best friend doesn't deserve to be there!”

She could only bite her cheek, shutting her eyes as if she's not hearing the witch, but she could feel the heat of Wanda's words as they washed over her, stinging like a slap in the face.

Natasha and Wanda both turned their attention to Bruce as he stepped out of the medbay, the tension between them dissipating in an instant. Wanda took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and Natasha immediately stood, her heart thumping on her chest wanting to hear about your condition.

“How is she?” The two redheads asked in unison, Wanda can only roll her eyes.

“She's awake now.”

Wanda didn't waste a second moving inside the medbay, walking past Natasha and Bruce.

“She's stable for now,” Dr. Cho informed Natasha who was left outside the medbay, “she just disassociated when she woke up earlier.”

Natasha nodded peeking over the doctor’s shoulder to get a sight of you but she can only see Wanda sitting beside your bed.

“Hey…how are you lyubov?” Wanda asked her fingers grazing yours.

“I feel weak,” you mumbled but gave the witch a soft smile, you managed to hold her hand that made Wanda sob. “Hey, I’m fine Wanda.”

She held your hand tightly and brought it to her cheek, “You should be, you really should be.” You hummed as you wiped the tears that streamed down to her face.

Natasha stood just outside the medbay entrance, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched you and Wanda interact. Your eyes flick towards her and you can read her lips muttering, “Hey,” to you.

“I want to rest for a bit.” You said, immediately avoiding Natasha and the witch noticed the tension between you and your girlfriend.

“Sure.” Wanda was about to stand to leave when you held your hands up, “Stay, Wanda. Please.”

Natasha could read the situation clearly, you didn't want her around. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut because all she wanted to do is to hold you and pepper you with kisses, take care of you. But she did notice what you want and it's not her, so she respectfully stepped back, retreating out of the medbay. The coldness in her chest had deepened into an ache, but she pushed it down as she always did.

For now, she’ll give you what you need but she will never stop trying and making it up to you.

⧗

Dr. Cho informed Natasha that you are now discharged and can leave the medbay anytime soon.

Right now, she's supposed to be sitting right next to you, apologizing or…begging for forgiveness, peppering you with kisses or cuddling you. But instead here she is walking alone to your shared room. Natasha had held back her tears as she walked towards the room, but the moment she stepped inside, the floodgates opened. She couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a choked sob and collapsed onto the floor, burying her face in her hands.

Suddenly, Natasha surged to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. She couldn't contain her anger and frustration to herself any longer. With a roar of rage, she began to pummel the walls of the room, punching it with all her strength.

Eventually, Natasha's frenzy subsided, and she steadied herself against the wall, forehead resting against its cool surface. Natasha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in your embrace, feeling your arms wrapped around her, holding her down and keeping her grounded like you always do.

“You cannot be like this,” She whispered to herself. “You have a wife and a baby on the way to look up to. You cannot…you cannot be like this.” She repeated, as if trying to drill the words into her own brain.

Natasha slowly turned back, surveying the room with keen and puffy eyes. Without hesitation, she removed her jacket and top revealing her gray sports bra and started deep cleaning everything. Something that will occupy her for a while besides she doesn't want you to come back here with a messy and dirty room, though you always make sure that your shared bedroom is clean, both of you have tasks on what to do, on who's gonna do this or that, clean this or that. Actually it's you who gave her tasks, Natasha can be careless and a messy person at times but with you, it all changed.

Natasha started to take off the cover of the pillows and replaced them with fresh, clean ones from the closet. She then moved onto the bed sheets, pulling off the used ones.

After that Natasha moved to the bathroom, checking every corner, she pulled out the trash and some stuff scattered at the counter. When she opened the cabinet she was welcomed by a pregnancy test, not just one but three tests with two lines showing in each one.

Natasha picked the three, studying each one carefully before setting it back down again at the counter. She wondered if this was the thing you wanted to talk about before the mission. She clenched her jaw remembering how she treated you that night.

A call on the door pulled Natasha out of her thoughts. She retreated from the bathroom, taking a deep breath before opening it to reveal Clint standing on the other side.

“Hey, here's the flower you asked me to get.”

Natasha smiled as she took in the sight of the beautiful bouquet that Clint had brought for you. “I know you asked me to buy roses, the pink ones which is Y/N’s favorite but I saw these chrysanthemums and carnations. I bought this for Laura when she was pregnant with our Nathaniel. You should avoid-strong smelling flowers. Y/N’s sense of smell might be a little bit sensitive now.” Natasha listened intently as she had seen how Clint handled being a father of three. How he was able to protect her family while being an Avenger so might as well take her best friend’s every advice.

“You might wanna do some research. It's gonna be a lot but I know you two can do it.” She nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Clint.”

“Mood swings, Nat,” Clint chuckled as she warned Natasha, “It's gon’ be a hell of a ride.”

“Oh yeah it is, even though she wasn't pregnant yet it was a rollercoaster already.” She smirked remembering how she handled your mood swings during the course of your relationship.

“Oh Nat, now it's gonna be a whole new level.”

After a few more words of farewell, Natasha went back inside the room, and placed the flowers gently in a vase beside your shared bed. She filled the vase with water from the bathroom sink, letting it flow over each bloom as she arranged them.

Natasha settled on the couch after putting back the vase beside the bed. She put on some headphones as she lost herself to some music. An automatic vacuum hummed quietly in the background, gliding smoothly over the floor and picking up any debris.

Natasha indeed took Clint's advice, she was reading and researching about the changes that were happening to your body and what to expect during the course of the pregnancy. You're now in your 12th week and she read that during week 12 of pregnancy you’re wrapping up your first trimester and the odds of miscarriage are highest in the first trimester.

She took notes and made a mental list of things to expect.

“Your baby is only as big as a passion fruit but is growing and developing.” Natasha read to herself.

“Baby bump’s first appearance depending on the body type, food cravings, weird food cravings,” Natasha murmured, she continued, “Dizziness, mood swings, sore breast, heightened sense of smell,” She hummed, remembering her best friend's advice about sensitivity of your smell.

Natasha did a double-take as she read the last item on the list.

“Spike in sex drive?”

A knock on the door interrupted her researching and reading and she quickly put her headphones down, turning her attention towards the entrance.

She opened the door to see you standing there, a strawberry plush in your hand, and Bruce behind you carrying the bag of blankets she brought in the medbay. Her eyes widened slightly but she quickly composed herself, her expression softening as she took in your face, “Hey.”

You took in the sight of Natasha, your mind being in a haze. She is dressed in a gray sports bra and matching sweatpants, headphones clinging on her neck. Her arms were flexed like always and you could see the details of beads of sweat on her defined abs. Your breath hitched in your throat.

Natasha, noticing your gaze on her, quickly took the bag from Bruce. You walked past her already and went inside the bedroom.

“Dr. Cho will check in on her periodically.” Bruce informed the redhead.

“Thanks, Bruce.”

You sat at the bed slowly, noticing the new sheets of the bed and the flowers, the smell of it invading your nostrils. You caress the softness of the sheet while the strawberry plush sat on your thighs.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” Natasha asked as she closed the door. She put the bag down where you put your dirty laundry.

“Baby?” She called again, “You know you can't avoid me forever.”

“Yeah, like you did me the other night?” you replied with a dry tone.

A heavy silence fell between the two of you and Natasha bit her lower lip in contemplation. Without hesitation, she immediately removed the headphones from her neck and walked in your direction. She gently knelt in front of you, placing the plush beside you as she took both of your hands in hers. Her bright green eyes searched for yours.

“Baby,” she began, her voice gentle and soothing. “I'm sorry.” She paused, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “Please, I was out of my mind that night,” her voice is becoming shaky this time. “It was the stupidest thing I ever did,” she continued, the regret evident in her expression. She swallowed hard, squeezing your hands gently. “Please, forgive me detka? I promise it won't happen again. I’ll take care of you, cook for you, buy you gifts, whatever you want baby, just—just forgive me.”

You actually stopped listening when she said “I’m sorry” all you could focus on was her arms untensing and tensing with each movement of her hands gently gripping your own. And the smell of the flowers were now gone as your girlfriend’s cologne, which was your favorite cologne of hers, started to envelop your senses. You don't know why you're being like this.

Natasha watched as you yawned, “I'm sleepy,” you slur.

“I uhh…alright baby,” She immediately let go of your hands and stood up, hesitating for a moment. She gently guides you as you lay down to your shared bed, putting the comforter all over your body and handing you the strawberry plush.

“Sleep tight detka, I’ll be here,” to her surprise, you hummed in response as you snuggled the strawberry plush close to you, a small sound that filled the air between the two of you and it made Natasha's heart jump. She took that as a good sign and she will for sure do anything to earn your forgiveness.

Next

[forsworned]

I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY'S WATCHING ME ft. LOGAN WALKER

Warning(s): Sexual Content, Solo Sex (f.), Usage of Sex Toys, Voyeurism, AFAB!reader,

Author's note: @keegansshark because you inspired me!!!!

Being the Walker brother's third roommate is awfully quiet. In fact, half of your time here is spent apologizing about any ruckus you might be causing them whether it be your music, the loud clattering in the kitchen, or having a friend or two over. But they insist that it's fine. Giving you grand, boyish, heartthrob smiles that make you melt like a popsicle on a hot pavement.

Unlike Logan, Hesh is more outgoing, and talkative, and not staring you down from across the room when you're attempting to complete your work. He's asking you about your day, telling you to tag along with him and his brother when they go gyming and somehow is always sitting on the opposite end of the table when you're going out to eat, leaving you next to Logan every time.

And sometimes there's a sneaky, mischievous glance sent Logan's way followed by a pained expression that's stifled with laughter on his older's brother face.

But that was neither here nor there. However, upon finding out that the Walker brothers were going to spend the weekend out camping, you took it as an opportunity to be as noisy as you wanted. As much as you adored them, you felt relieved not having to walk on eggshells around them when it came to your sonorousness.

A deep exhale leaves your chest as your body hits your mattress. It had been a long week and you wanted nothing more than to unwind. Unfortunately, you didn't have a boyfriend to fuck your brains out so you settle for the vibrator in your locked drawer. You fish out the keys from your pocket and unlatch it. It wasn't a stellar collection of sex toys, more like just the essentials.

You decide upon your favorite, old reliable, first Eve's thruster and tug off your shorts and panties, tossing them carelessly to the side of your bed. It's a little depressing that you have to resort to such methods, but it was going to be a long weekend, so what better way to start it off then with some solo sex?

You turn it in and slowly work yourself up and the image of Logan flits into your mind. How good he would feel between your legs right now, filling you up with his cock and gazing down at you with those pretty hazel eyes of his. It's hardly been a few minutes before you feel yourself sopping at the mere notion of him touching you, and you're sliding the vibrator past your folds imagining that it's him inside of you.

His name spills from your lips over and over again, so sticky sweet, and delectable to the ears of any man if they had the pleasure of listening in on you.

So luckily for Logan, he's back at the apartment complex, fumbling with his keys to unlock the door after Hesh had forgotten to pack propane fuel. It isn't a huge deal, certainly not enough to sour his mood. An earnest mistake that Logan is more than willing to make up for for his older brother.

Too entranced by your own euphoria, you don't hear the door unlocking, nor it opening and the footsteps that follow, but Logan certainly hears your wanton breathy moans, reverberating into the hallways leading to the living room. He halts dead in his tracks and he's pondering about how he should approach the situation. He's thinking that maybe you happen to be watching a movie with a sex scene and it will pass at any moment. But it's past five minutes now and he's thinking otherwise.

His heart thuds against his chest as he stands there completely paralyzed, but his body isn't the only rigid thing. If it weren't obvious to you yet, Logan had a raging crush on you, and Hesh would be happy to take any opportunity to tease him about it. So the sound of you moaning is definitely getting him riled up. His eyes dart to the propane that sat on the kitchen island where stupid Hesh had left it and he's quietly making his way over to grab it and leave without alerting you, but then he hears you calling out his name. And then, again, and again and again.

As each passing second ticks by, the urgency in your whimpers intensifies, and Logan's legs seem to act autonomously, losing sight of their original purpose. He silently stalks to the ajar door of your bedroom and his eyes ream at your sopping, wet pussy out for display, hammering away at it with your hot pink, dildo that's thrusting into you. You're throwing your head back in pure rapture and his dick fully bricked up on sight. His Adam's apple bobs up and down, swallowing thickly as he absentmindedly palms at his dick.

It's so fucking wrong. And he's so aware of that, but it doesn't stop him from burning the image of you getting yourself off to him in his mind. His desire to step into the room is magnifying by the minute, but he holds himself back. The way your mouth is parting as you reach your climax is so, so, so delicious. The salacious sighs that escape you drive him wild and honestly, he could cum right now. It wouldn't even take long. One touch from that pretty mouth of yours and he would be coloring you a pretty, ivory white.

And just when you're about to orgasm, the creak of your door jostles you, stopping you mid-thrust and you could almost die when you see Logan's form leaning against the doorway. The blood drains from your face as you take in his unbuttoned jeans, undone zipper, and his hand slipping into his boxers. His hazel eyes might just be as wide as yours and the embarrassing sound of your machine is still going off and you practically rip it out of you, but your unexpected orgasm reels you in for a moment. It halts you as your bach archs and you gasp out in a fervent daze. It's humiliating as you gawk at your pulsating, drenched pussy in horror and you're scrambling to get up and somehow apologize??? But by the time you can even catch your breath to pull on your shorts, you hear the front door slam.

You make a dash for the window to see, Logan climb into Hesh's truck and they seem to be having a brief conversation before they're back on the road. The blood is rushing to your face as you watch them pull away. Oh God. What were you going to do!?

[accioscarheadthings]

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 9

kenji sato x reader

summary: with no time to waste, kenji gears up to face the kdf in a final, decisive battle to rescue you and emi from their grasp

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

warning: none, violence, use of missiles, combat,

masterlist !

you slowly regained consciousness, groggily looking around to take in your surroundings. your mind was foggy, and your head pounded with each beat of your heart. as your eyes focused, you noticed the familiar corridor ceilings of the kdf.

a wave of realization washed over you, and you instinctively tried to move your hands.

however, they were tightly restrained to the stretcher you were lying on, effectively preventing you from escaping.

the mecha gigantron and emi were making their way through the ocean.

the sudden splash of water caused mecha gigantron and emi to pause. they glanced around to determine the source of the disturbance and found Uutraman towering before them, his silhouette etched against the watery horizon.

as the water rippled around him, he planted himself firmly, blocking their path.

emi chittered, beak open in excitement at his arrival as she flew towards him.

"there's my girl!" kenji held his hands out for her.

when emi got closer to him, the mecha gigantron screeched sharply, making her stop.

"emi. we gotta go, girl. that’s not your real mama," kenji explained softly, "she’s just a fake. something the bad men made to trick you. the very same men who took y/n,"

kenji clenched his fists at his sides, "i know you're up there! I know you have her!" he hollered up at the sky, "coward!"

"mecha gigantron, attack!" dr. onda snapped, ordering the gigantron.

you feigned unconsciousness, waiting for the opportunity to make your escape. as soon as the restraints were removed, you seized the moment and slipped out with a burst of energy.

before the guards guarding you could react, you had already sprung into action. you dodged a punch from the nearest guard, sidestepping to the side in a fluid motion. in a swift counterattack, you struck a blow to the guard's ribcage with a powerful strike of your own.

you continued with a series of swift and skillful movements. you blocked another punch with the leg of the chair and kicked your opponent's knees, causing him to fall hard on his front.

without missing a beat, you somersaulted into the air, landing with a graceful flip on her back atop the dazed man. the chair shattered into pieces under the weight of her impact, adding to the chaos and confusion.

freeing yourself, you rushed out of the room, heading straight towards the combat in the waters below.

just as you reached the hatch of the aircraft, a deep voice stopped you in your tracks.

"stop right there, agent y/n!"

you froze at the voice, raising your hands at your sides, and slowly turning around.

dr. onda stood with a gun aimed at you, your ordering captain beside him.

you narrowed your eyes at him.

"leaving so early?" dr. onda taunted.

"i have no interest in staying here, so by all means, fire away," you raised a fist to the air in front of you.

a rumbling sound was heard and dr. onda and the captain were knocked off their feet by a pile of boxes. a tiny missle shot through the air, zipping right towards your wrist and landing on your skin.

metal plates shifted and crawled up your arm as you sprinted and leapt off the hatch of the aircraft.

firing your thrusters, you plummeted down the air towards where kenji battled the mecha gigantron.

ultraman moves with incredible agility, smoothly dodging and shifting to avoid attacks. with every strike he delivers, the water below churns and roars, its surface becoming more chaotic by the second.

the gigantron had grabbed hold of kenji's neck, raising him up into the air while he struggled to evade.

a beam of energy shot at the kaiju, throwing it aside a good distance away frm kenji, allowing him to land on his feet.

you had had your arm raised as you shot the energy ray frm the chest piece of your warbird suit.

"there you are," kenji murmured, shoulders sagging in relief that you had made it out alive and well.

"well, i can't have you mourning me too soon, now, can i?" you tilted your head at him in acknowledgment and he knew you were smiling at him behind your mask.

"missile attack now!" dr. onda ordered.

several projectiles rained down on you and kenji, the latter successfully held up a shield dome for protection.

but emi got in the way, taking a direct hit from one of the missiles.

"no!" kenji yelled in horror.

letting down the shield, kenji hurried over to where emi had fallen and cradled her in his arms, "no, no," he breathed heavily, "no, no, no. no, no, no,"

"come on. come on. come on," kenji muttered over and over again, "wake up. wake up, girl!"

"emi," you were hovering in the air beside ultraman, your voice carrying remorse.

kenji held emi to his chest in affection while you placed a palm on the kaiju baby's cheeks.

kenji set her down on a rock gently, turning to the mecha gigantron.

you and kenji charged forward, anger fueling your determination to protect emi at all costs.

in a coordinated effort, you took turns delivering powerful blows to the gigantic mecha, surrounding it in a coordinated attack.

the kaiju was on its back, laid back helpless as it was knocked out for the moment.

kenji pulled back a palm, holding a disc of spinning energy on it. just as he was about to bring it down, you managed to hover in the air in front of him, "kenji, no!"

kenji froze, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

"look," you motioned at the exposed skin of the kaiju body under the metal armor of the gigantron, "that kaiju is still alive. project surrogate was about this,"

kenji lowered his hand, "oh my god,"

suddenly, the powerful tail of the mecha giganton struck out, catching you off guard and sending you reeling backward.

before either of you could react, you were plunged deep into the dark and unforgiving depths of the ocean.

as you sank deeper into the water, memories of your past flooded your mind. your father's face, his words, and the times you spent together washed over you like a wave. you recalled him passing down the mantle of warbird to you, the weight of the legacy resting on your shoulders.

"one day, the mantle of Warbird will pass to you," he said firmly, his voice carrying a weight of expectation.

"taking up this legacy won't be easy," he continued, his eyes never leaving your face. "it will require sacrifices, and you may have to carry the burden alone."

you stared up at him, clinging to every word he uttered.

"but I have faith in you," he added, a hint of pride in his voice.

something large blocked the light above you, and you felt a giant palm wrap around you and pull you out of the water.

the grip around you tightened as you were lifted up from the depths of the ocean.

looking up, you saw that the large hand gently wrapped around you, its palm acting as a supporting platform that raised you higher into the air.

you glanced over and saw Kenji nearby, seeming to have gotten knocked into the water like you. he was slowly rising to his feet, staring up at the figure that had come to your saving.

your eyes widened as you were met with the towering figure of mr. sato in his ultraman form. he looked down at both you and Kenji with a calm expression, his gaze filled with both concern and worry. it was mr. sato who had come to your rescue in the nick of time.

"dad? you’re alive," kenji breathed in relief.

"i promised I would always be here," he told his son, sparing you a glance and nodding silently. you nodded back at him in respect.

the mecha gignatron roared loudly, making you three turn towards it. she seemed to be in agony, trying to override the protocols the kdf were feeding into its mind, while trying to decipher who emi was.

it let out a loud screech into the cloudy night sky, sending soundwaves above.

it clawed at its face, scraping out a part of its eye, to reveal its original green ones as it blinked at emi in recognition.

chittering in joy, emi flew towards her mother, snuggling closer to her beak while her mother leaned into her daughter's embrace.

a bright light flashed, showing displaying the way several jets scrambled out of the kdf jet above the clouds.

"is this the part where the villain sends a hidden force we didn’t know about?" kenji pondered

"those are escape pods," professor sato elaborated.

a large laser beam hit the older ultra, right at his chest and he skidded back on the water on his back from the force of it.

but professor sato was careful to cradle you and kenji to his chest. he raised his fist at his side and opened them.

"professor!" your voice raised in panic.

"dad! are you okay?" kenji was nothing but worried.

"it's alright, y/n. I’m fine, kenji," professor sato replied.

the kdj aircraft from above descended through the clouds and landed in front of you all.

a large mechanical suit revealed dr. ondo to be in control of it, staring at you all in defiance.

kenji looked between you and his father, "we gonna do this together?"

"well, i’m not gonna do it alone," professor sato retorted.

kenji transformed back to his ultraman form; your warbird suit covered over your body, the mask closing over your face, and eyes lighting up.

dr. ondo yelled as he charged forward to fight.

the four of you approached at dr. ondo, taking turns to attack him. all of you moved in sync, striking at vulnerabilities and working together to bring down the man in the mechanical suit. the mecha gigantron clawed at him, while the two ultras tried to restrain him by holding him down on both sides. you fired a beam of photon at him, trying to disarm him.

but dr. ondo was able to shake off the ultras and found his arm at you in a punch, tossing you off your balance.

with each blow exchanged, the battle grew fiercer and more desperate. dr. ondo's suit retaliated with powerful strikes, trying its hardest to eliminate the ultra heroes. despite the danger, you and kenji held your ground, determined to take him down.

at one point, dr. ondo had overpowered professor sato and had him on his knees. he pulled out his electric machete, raising it up to swing it down and take his revenge.

kenji swung in between just in time caught his mechanical arm halfway, grunting in effort. in one quick motion, he snapped it in half and tossed it aside, "batter up!"

you swooped in, firing from the chest-piece of your warbird suit and lacerated an arm.

emi had charged from the other side, roaring with all her might as she swung the pipe in her hand at dr. ondo. holding it like a baseball bat, just like kenji had taught her.

dr. ondo was now devoid of both his arms to combat.

emi flew over to you, the metal pipe still in her hand.

"that's my girl," you glanced at her, your tone affectionate. emi cooed at you, bashful at your comment.

mecha gigantron and emi fired at the man, beaks wide open. you fired from your own chest piece while kenji and professor sato held up their hands together perpendicularly, sending a beam of energy his way.

the combined energy forces from all four of you had dr. ondo struggling for his life, feeling the inevitable defeat crawl upon him.

finally, when his suit gave out, he collapsed back on the water, making the four of you withdraw.

all began to walk away from the scene of intense battle, bodies still thrumming with adrenaline. you did a double take when you caught sight of a red blinking light on dr. ondo's suit. it only meant one thing: the suit was about to self-destruct, and danger was imminent.

it seemed that kenji too had realized that and acted quickly. without a single moment of hesitation, he created a protective dome shield around himself and the suit to effectively contain the impending explosion.

"kenji, no!"

TAGLIST !

@earth-to-mee @sassy-cat-in-town @breaddippedinorangejuice @nuhteyam @gameboigyu @byunpum @jennypenny-19 @doublebunv @moonjellyfishie @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @reivelmin @seyoran @warlike-morning @crimson-mage-02 @b3e-sat0 @miffysoo @t4naiis @lovingyeet  @imsimping4life @mmeerraa @btszn @jusmango-shak @yobriisstuff @goldenpoison @bat-h-tic @fruchtgeschmack @iateurdad16 @bandolls @lovingyee @reivelmin @f-ergj @arrozyfrijoles23 @aise-30 @simp-hub @armycaratlover @taleiak @ellie-x0xo @femmefqtqle @mp-buezo @bakugouswaif @berryjuicyy @f-ergj @aise-30 @marshhbs @star-flecked-soul @bontensbabygirl @vynwan-cbq @scarasw1f3 @bakugouswaif @deimmortales99 @burnthecheshirewitch

AUTHOR'S NOTE !

i'm so sorry for this messy chapter, I'm not good at writing fight scenes and i just wanted to get it over with.

[carionto]

Everything dumb happens in the 3130s

This popped up on Pinterest, it's 4AM, obviously there can only be one path:

______________________________

Space walks are a necessary part of any civilizations early days in the path to becoming a space-faring one. The hazards of space demand extensive protection, which reduces the practicality of individual space suits in favor of robots and drones. Everyone still has them, of course, but everyone always prefers to avoid exposing themselves to radiation and the simple danger of drifting away.

Except Humans. Many of them like going out in their dense and sleek suits for some "hands on workmanship". Manned suits also do posses certain stealth capacity as it only needs to maintain life support while the Human inside provides all the locomotion. And there are other practical benefits that crop up from time to time.

Then there's the group of Humans known as, named by other Humans by the way, "Crazy Death Surfers".

They suit up, hook themselves up to a drone they remote control, and release themselves within an asteroid belt. They also add these high density long alloy strips to their feet. Some use one large "board" some use two thin ones.

Then they engage the drone thrusters and hurl towards the gigantic space rocks at ludicrous speeds. Not by them, at them. As in they intend to impact the asteroids.

Once close enough, they divert the drone to change their course to be at an angle, still on a collision course though. Right as they're about to hit it, they turn their board to match the angle of approach and slam into it and continue to slide along, throwing up dust and small stones. Sometimes they quickly redirect the drone towards another asteroid, other times they make it go around the whole thing, see if they can leave a clean line fully across.

The Crazy Death Surfers do this for hours, and always return with the biggest smiles on their faces, thoroughly exhausted, often bruised, it's ridiculous none of them have actually died so far.

When they first came up with this idea, the Coalition station was also a "surf track" once. After their boards did more damage to the station, and almost caused a hull breach from a particularly sharp angle hit, they were heavily fined and a new law was enacted banning all unsanctioned space walks around any Coalition stations or ships.

Unlike some other Human introduced activities, asteroid surfing will NOT catch on.

[lex-the-flex]

Crash Landing

A/N: I thought I'd give some ESB Luke some love! Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

“Hmm, I’m not picking up any cities or technology. There’s massive lifeform reading though. Something’s alive down there.” Luke deciphers.

“I wonder what it could be? The planet could just be a giant ocean.” You reply, checking on R2.

“Then we’d be screwed.” Luke bluntly states. 

Descending through the unknown planet’s atmosphere, the double X-Wing is swallowed by a thick layer of fog. Jolting the ship to stay in a straight line, Luke does his best to avoid any collisions. 

In a flash, R2D2 beeps and whirls loudly and frantically does his best to send messages to both of your monitors. Keeping the ship’s Hyperdrive and thrusters in check, Luke begins flipping switches. 

“I know, R2! All the scopes are dead, I can’t see anything! Hang on, Y/N. I’m gonna start the landing cycle.” Luke emphasizes in between shouts. 

Falling further and faster towards the unknown planet, the X-Wing’s nose crashes down into a large river of sludge. Water splashes against the windshield just as Luke realizes the situation he’s put all three of you in. Raising the windshield to fully survey the terrain, the humidity nearly clogs the young man’s lungs as he tosses his gloves down in a minuscule fit of anger. 

Climbing out of his seat, Luke stands on the ship’s exterior hoping to spot where the water’s edge might be. Removing your helmet, you crane your neck to get a better view of Luke, making yourself physically uncomfortable. 

“Luke? What do you see?” You ask. 

Tossing his helmet into his seat, Luke glances over the swampy landscape before walking down the front of the X-Wing, only stopping when the ends of his boots touch the water. Raising himself from his spot, R2 prepares to join his Master, but Luke turns back toward you both. 

“No, R2. Stay with Y/N. I’ll be back.” He orders. 

Climbing out of your seat, you carefully stand on one of the ship’s wings, hoping to get a better vantage point than by being close to the water. Jumping into the murky water, Luke breaks the barrier of mist, and safely swims to shore. Ready to follow him, something bumps into the ship, causing R2 to fall into the water with a big splash. 

“R2? Where are you?” Luke asks. 

“He fell in! Something hit the bottom of the ship.” You exclaim, pointing to where R2 is. 

Slowly making your way down to Luke’s seat, you briefly lose your balance but regain it fairly quickly. Just then, R2’s scanner breaks the surface of the water, beeping happily. 

“You be more careful.” Luke sternly orders. 

Sighing at annoyance of the current situation, you briefly meet Luke’s gaze. His bright blue eyes fixate on your peaceful e/c orbs, succumbing to the look on your face with a silent nod. Sitting into the pilot seat, you look around the small cockpit quietly taking inventory when suddenly R2 is pulled down through the water by an eel twice his size. 

“R2!” Luke shouts, aiming his blaster at the water. 

Watching the foggy water go still, you can’t help but ignore the lump in your throat. Lowering his blaster, Luke doesn’t give up. Running to the other side of the water’s edge, the eel spits out R2, causing him to collide with multiple vines and trees far away from the X-Wing. 

Motioning to move, Luke immediately stops you in your tracks, wanting you to stay put. Comforting the droid, you can hear Luke admit to R2. 

“…it’s like, something out of a dream, or… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just going crazy.” He says through saddened eyes that you cannot see. 

“Was the dream real? How is that possible?” You mumble to yourself. 

Having had enough of waiting, you finally jump into the water to meet with Luke, noticing that the eel is nowhere to be seen. Swimming the shore’s edge, you slowly grip some strong vines to pull yourself up, when your left foot is grabbed by the eel. Kicking the eel with your free foot, you quickly try to stomp it. 

“Luke, help!” You call out, trying to pull yourself up. 

Rushing toward you, Luke makes it to the shore’s edge. 

“Help you!” You shout, reaching for Luke with your free hand. 

Taking your hand, Luke tries his best to pull you out, but the eel tightens its grip around your boot. Removing his blaster from his belt, Luke is able to expose your left foot, and he shoots the eel’s slimy skin. Releasing its hold on you, Luke pulls you into him breaking your fall, and lands on his back. 

Listening to the water return to normal, the feeling of Luke’s gentle hold on you makes a series of butterflies rise in your stomach. Facing him, his eyes are filled with anxiety. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You reply. 

Motioning to pull away, Luke doesn’t let you. You can tell that he wants to keep you here, at this moment, just for a little while longer. Supporting your body on his, Luke pulls you closer, and you bend down to press your lips on his. 

Gently kissing Luke, he feels serenity in the air, finally fulfilling this desire to kiss you for a long time. Breaking your lips from his, a large smile fills Luke’s face, and the happy whirls and boops from R2 fills the air along with your shared laughter.

luke taglist ~

@dreamliners

@midnightepiphany

@maybeimart

@nonbinary-tatooine

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@dailydragon08

@eveningserenityyy

@sonofthedunes

@wicked0clouds

@tearsleftt

@thereallchristine

@partofmejustwantstosleep

@xxx-aurora-swirls

@remusstefon

@annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

@0paperairplane0

@kethamine

@pantaeudaimonia

@acupnoodle

@flawroses

@xplore-the-unknwn

@tatooineknights

@myevilmouse

@edwxrdkenway

@gabbasposts

@garagesesh

@bsxcrxts

@maybe-if-youd-listen

@shions-new-blog-of-stuff

[cariantha]

Relief

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Warning: Sexual innuendo Category: Hurt/Comfort; Fluff Word count: 1.4K Prompt: From @jerzwriter, “In your HC, does Sawyer have any long-term effects from the chemical attack or its treatment?”

By mid-afternoon, the cafeteria wasn’t nearly as busy, making it easy for Ethan to spot Sawyer sitting alone at a corner table. With a fork in one hand, she moved food around her plate while rubbing her forehead with the other. 

Ethan began walking in her direction but was abruptly stopped in his tracks. “Oh, Dr. Ramsey! I’m so glad I ran into you. Finally, I can introduce you to my husband,” the silver-haired woman proclaimed. 

“Hello, Mr. Reed. It’s nice to meet you,” Ethan politely responded, shaking hands with the gentleman at her side. 

While Mrs. Reed explained to her husband that his ornery mother had taken a shine to the doctor with “dreamy blue eyes like Paul Newman,” Ethan kept a side eye on Sawyer as she stood and emptied her tray into a nearby wastebin. 

Heads turned, and people whispered as she walked past a few occupied tables on her way to the exit. Since her return to work last week, the gossip mills had been spinning again, speculating about her physical and mental well-being and his and Sawyer’s more than just professional relationship. 

Not wanting to feed the rumors, Ethan caught Sawyer’s eye just before she walked past him. With a subtle lift of his chin and a question on his brow, he silently asked if she was okay. She signaled that she was with a quick nod and forced smile. But as Ethan’s eyes trailed her out of the room, and she lifted her hand to massage the back of her neck, he was unconvinced. 

<><><><><><><><><><>

“Morning,” Ethan offered as he entered the hospital gym early on Tuesday morning. 

“Ram-Man! I didn’t think you were coming this morning,” Bryce grunted between pull-ups. “Sawyer said she was staying at yours last night. I figured you’d be working out at home… doing some thrusters,” he teased, dropping to the floor and vulgarly thrusting his hips back and forth.

Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She wasn’t feeling well last night,” he explained as he programmed his treadmill. “Said she had a headache and wanted to go home and sleep it off.”

“She gave you the headache excuse? Damn, man. What’d you do to piss her off?”

Ethan scrunched his brow together. “What? Nothing.” The thought of Sawyer making up an excuse not to spend the night together hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

“That you know of…” Bryce chuckled. 

He flipped him off, then started running at full speed on the treadmill, hoping to tune out the obnoxious scalpel jockey.

His gym buddy laughed in response. “I’m just giving you a hard time, man. In all seriousness, I’m sure it’s been hard for her to be back. She probably just reached her limit and needed to crash.”

Ethan nodded. Did she need space? Had he been hovering? Was he being overprotective? Or, attempting to keep their relationship out of the public eye, had he inadvertently hurt her feelings? The thoughts in his head whirred round and round like the rubber tread under his feet.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Dr. Ramsey rattled off medication adjustments to the nurse as they exited their patient’s room. He paused to let her type the orders into a tablet when, down the hall, a familiar voice caught his attention.  

“Page me if you need anything, Esme. I’m going to take a quick lunch break,” Sawyer said to her intern. 

He quickly reviewed and signed off on the patient’s chart and tried to catch up with her. When he reached the end of the hallway, he turned the corner and found Baz and Zaid engaged in conversation. 

“Did you see which way Sawyer went?” Ethan interrupted, looking left and right at the intersection. 

“No, she didn’t come this way,” the twins said simultaneously. 

Ethan swirled back around, trying to figure out where the woman he was dating had disappeared. Then he noticed the door to a supply closet. Cracking the door open, the light from the hallway illuminated the small, dark space. 

Sawyer sat on the floor, her head leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. The door softly scraped on the floor as Ethan pushed it further open, and she cracked one eye open. Seeing the familiar face, she quietly groaned, “Hi.” Stepping into the tight space, he closed the door behind him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, flipping on the lights. When Sawyer winced, he quickly turned them off. 

“Thank you,” she murmured. 

She laid her head on his shoulder when he sank to the floor beside her. 

“Another headache?” he guessed, taking her hand in his. 

“Yeah.”

“How bad?”

“Like migraine bad.”

“And how long has this been going on? The headaches?” 

She hesitated before answering, and Ethan knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “I’ve had them since the attack, but they’ve progressively worsened since being back at work.”

Ethan sighed deeply. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“Dammit, Sawyer… I wish you would stop saying that.” Remembering her pain, he quickly tempered his frustration and squeezed her hand lovingly. “I care about you. I’m all in with you. And I want to be there for you. Aside from all that, I’m still technically your physician. You should have told me-”

“They’re just minor headaches…”

There was a buzz in his pocket. As he reached for his phone, Ethan rolled his eyes and mumbled about doctors being the worst patients. Dismissing the unimportant call, he continued his lecture. “They’re not so minor if you seek refuge in a dark closet. I won’t let you suffer like this. And Sawyer, we don’t know anything about the long-term effects of the poisoning or the antidote. You need to let me run some tests and ensure it’s nothing serious.”

“Okay, and you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Come here.” Ethan guided Sawyer’s body down until her head rested in his lap. Carefully untangling the elastic from her hair, he combed his long fingers through it, then gently massaged her head. 

“That feels good. Thank you,” Sawyer whispered.

He continued to rub her head through a fifteen-minute power nap before waking and convincing her to call it a day. “Go back to my place. It’s quiet, and you can soak in the tub. I’ll take over your patients.”  

After dusting themselves off, Ethan opened the door for Sawyer to step out first. His chest bumped into her back when she suddenly froze at the threshold. Looking over her head, he saw a familiar face stepping out of the patient room on the other side of the hall. The nurse smirked. “Good for you, doctors.”

“It’s not what it looks like, Maureen,” Sawyer attempted to explain.

“Uh-huh,” she sang, walking away.

Sawyer turned to face Ethan. “I totally have sex hair right now, don’t I?”

He handed over her elastic hairband with a sympathetic half-smile and smoothed her teased hair down. 

<><><><><><><><><><>

A few hours later, Ethan entered his quiet apartment. Following the soft yellow light that filtered through the half-open door of his bedroom, he found Sawyer curled up in bed, scrolling through her phone. 

“Hey, Rookie, how are you feeling?” he asked, toeing out of his shoes and pulling off his tie. 

“Hi. Much better.”

Lying down next to her, he tugged her close for a hug and kiss. “I got a couple of Maxalt samples from the pharma rep and sent a prescription to the hospital pharmacy. You should be able to pick it up in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Sawyer said, but her tone sounded defeated.  

“I know you don’t like taking medication, Soe, but I think it will bring you some relief.” Ethan kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair. “I can’t bear to see you in any more pain. Not after all that you’ve already endured.”

“Speaking of relief, can I ask you a question? As my doctor?”

“Of course.”

“I read a study earlier today, and the data suggested that sexual activity can lead to partial or complete headache relief in some migraine patients.”

“I’m familiar with the study.” Ethan smiled, knowing his patient well enough to see where this line of questioning was going.  

“Of course you are…” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Well, I was wondering if you think it might be effective in my case.”

“Sex releases endorphins, which are natural painkillers,” Ethan explained. “So yes, it could very well ease your symptoms.”  

Sawyer scrunched her face and rubbed her forehead. “Ooooh… ahhhh… my head is suddenly throbbing.”

Gesturing to where his pants were now feeling very tight, he smirked. “Yeah, so is mine. You rub mine, and I’ll rub yours?” 

“Deal.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction 

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst 

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@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz

[witchofthesouls]

What would spooky birb child Jack first flight be like with Optimus? If Jack got too overwhelmed with the new sensation of the sky would he return to Optimus? Randomly thinking of the Lennox seeker fanfiction and how he had to be somewhat dragged out the sky. I wondered if it be somewhat similar with Jack first taste of flight

Optimus doesn't have wings, nor does he have the Seekerkin-coding to understand the core-deep need to be in an environment he was meant for.

But Jack is still very young and is, thankfully, for Optimus' nerves and sanity, unable to access an alt-mode. He did worry over Jack's habits of climbing the highest points to look at the sky, but that turned out to be Jack tracing unknown (to him) constellations and watching the skyline to distant hubs and cities they can't access.

Jack, however, is far closer to his Other side, reaching out with non-delicate nor gossamer wings to catch the words (signs. the unspoken, subtle signs.) of the wind, shadow, and birdsong, and when he skips, he hovers for a moment before setting back down to the ground.

Optimus does take Jack on supervised 'flights' when the planetoid has enough space and gravity or when a space station has a wide track, then he lets Jack scurry to a great highpoint to jump down to his arms or allows Jack to ride on top of the cab of his alt-mode. It helps exercise Jack's wingspan, get used to falling down, and help navigate different kinds of environmental data through his extrasensory limbs.

But when Jack figures out how to access his anti-gravs and thrusters, then Optimus will feel another Age had passed over the course of a single week.

[shalomniscient]

FINALLY SOMEONE WHO SHARES MY INTEREST IN F1 ARLE😭 I have like this storyline with her and my oc but I’m happy to share it on here🙏🏼 imagine reader being one fontaines research institutes most promising scientist who recently made a groundbreaking invention, which is a gravity field generator that can be used on water, which now is requested by the formula 1 hq to be used in the upcoming grandprix on the cars. So reader gladly accepts the request, and quickly comes up with a plan which they introduce in a conference meeting with all the racing teams and their strategists. The plan includes them having to measure each racer in a private session so they customize the generators based on said measurements, in their underwear ofc🤭 and poor Arle can’t help but think all the time about how their pretty lips would feel around her dick and how good their cunt would swallow her length as she drives in and out of them which each thrust🥰 bonus points if reader notices the bulge slowly forming in her pants! OKAY TY FOR COMING TO MY YAPPING SESSION (this is my first time sharing something on her btw so im new!)

WAIT ANON UR BRAIN ??? HORKNEE ASIDE THIS IS SUCH A COOL CONCEPT WTF F1 ON WATER IS CRAZYYYY I LOVE IT

holy fuck, imagine like tracks that go under all the bridges in fontaine... anti-grav tracks that get the cars near vertical like some REAL redbull shit. dude, the engineering implications are literally so interesting to think about, like does each car have its own gravity generator? what would be added to the cars for movement in zero-grav? probably some form of thruster? what could be taken out of the car now that zero-grav is a thing? good heavens i'm going to be thinking about this for DAYS anon you fucking cooked holy shit

[underspacegame]

Over 80 new bounties have been added to the game, which gives you a chance to track down and fight unique minibosses as well as static versions of random storm bosses. Moreover, ghost ships (which you can encounter via these bounties) have become far more aggressive, with new attacks, ambient turrets, and more. Of course, they're not the only thing that's more aggressive. Completing bounties gets you the chance to utilize dynamos: A new kind of heavy weapon that supercharges your thruster and increases your speed while using them. It can allow you do things like ram enemies to death or launch out unlimited amounts of missiles, so long as you keep thrusting.

[gravedwe11er]

Co-existence

Another rarepair prompt, a bit late but better than never. Thanks to my betas @jayden-writes and @showstopper35, your help means a lot!

Pairing: Starscream/Wheeljack

Cw: a bit of injury, but nothing serious

Wordcount: 2.5k

Continuity: IDW

Summary: Five times living together was a bit of a hassle, and the one time that made it all worth it.

“Wheeljack.”

Lifting his helm up and away from the microscope before turning his head towards the sound of Starscream’s voice, Wheeljack finds his lover standing behind him with a scowl on his faceplates and his arms crossed, claws tapping out an irritated rhythm on his own plating.

“Oh hey, you’re back early. Something happen?”

Starscream snorts. “You really should check your chrono more often, it’s evening.”

Ah. “Suppose I should!” he chuckles. Losing track of time has always been a common issue for him, and he doubts that’s gonna be changing anytime soon. “So, what’s got you making that face? The council stepping on your toes again?”

“Stepping on my what-? Nevermind, don’t tell me,” Starscream mutters, shaking his helm at the earth word before carrying on. “But no, they’ve actually managed to be marginally more tolerable than usual today.”

“So?”

“So,” the seeker huffs, gesturing towards the completely cluttered table Wheeljack is sitting at, “you do know this isn’t a lab table, right?”

Ah. Well, Wheeljack did sort of forget about that, actually. Back in his old apartment, he hadn’t really kept a distinction between refueling table and lab table – his equipment took up nearly every horizontal surface aside from his berth, not to mention he usually ate in his lab anyway and had no need to keep it tidied away.

Though it made sense that Starscream, being…well, Starscream, might not see things the same way.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he shrugs sheepishly. “I’ll clean it up soon, yeah? Just lemme finish this up real quick, it shouldn’t be moved at this stage-“

“You can have one half,” interjects Starscream. “One half of the table exactly. And keep anything caustic in your actual lab, this thing wasn’t cheap.”

Wheeljack stares at him, optics wide. Avoiding his gaze, the seeker crosses his arms again. “We talked about compromising, didn’t we?” he mutters.

“So we did,” says the engineer, pleasantly surprised. “Still, thanks.”

Humming in response, Starscream sidles up next to him before throwing him an expectant look.

With a grin hidden under his blast mask, Wheeljack pushes the microscope closer to his partner. “So, what I’ve got here are ore samples from the Helex area…”

Now, Starscream understands the value of personal possessions, of course, and understands that Wheeljack would want to bring them over from his apartment when moving into his own penthouse. But why must they all look like…that?!

“I had this place professionally decorated,” he complains, with a completely justified whine to his voice, as the engineer shoves a battered, stained monstrosity of a desk into a corner of their berthroom.

In the living room already sits an eyesore of an armchair, completely clashing with the rest of his carefully chosen furniture. Little holo displays with photos of Wheeljack and his various autobot buddies haphazardly litter the shelves, scattered around Starscream’s nicely arranged models and knick-knacks. By the entrance, a few boxes hastily labeled as various lab equipment still wait to be unpacked.

“Uh. Sorry?” says Wheeljack, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess the table does look a bit grimy. I could give it a wipe down if you want?”

Scrubbing a servo down his faceplates, Starscream abruptly turns on a thruster and marches away from the unfolding disaster before he ends up saying something he regrets.

Primus, the things he puts up with for this mech.

Wheeljack wakes slowly, his systems taking their time to boot up in the face of just how utterly comfortable he is. As ridiculously huge and ostentatious Starscream’s berth is, he’s absolutely beginning to see its appeal.

And speaking of the mech- he lazily throws an arm out to the opposite side, finding it empty but still faintly warm - must have gotten up just a bit before him.

When he eventually drags himself out, his frame’s demands for fuel overpowering the wonderful softness of his lover’s fancy sheets, he finds Starscream on the couch, sipping his own morning cube in stormy silence. The room is dark, unusually so for this time of day, and Wheeljack spends a few confused moments thinking about unexpected dust storms before noticing the blinds drawn across all windows and the glass balcony door. Making his way over to the nearest one, wanting to see natural light at least once per day, he’s quickly halted by his partner’s voice.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” says Starscream, tone acidic, “not unless you want to see your faceplates on the front page tomorrow.”

Stopping in his tracks, he turns to look incredulously at his seeker. “Say what?”

“It would seem that there’s nothing more interesting happening these days than my ‘scandalous paramour’ moving in with me and making things official. The camera drones have been lurking outside all morning.”

Wheeljack sputters. “Wh- that can’t be legal! Isn’t this private property?”

“Well, it’s not illegal, unfortunately,” scowls Starscream, taking another sip of his fuel. “They’re technically not on my property, and there’s nothing preventing them from hovering just outside of it. I’d shoot them down, but,” he shrugs, “that would be bad for my image.”

“Primus,” sighs Wheeljack, ambling over to the dispensary and getting himself a cube before sitting down next to the seeker. “This happen a lot?”

“More than I’d like,” grunts Starscream, before giving him a sideways glance. “I’m afraid it’s something you’ll have to deal with as well, now that you’re here. I hope it’s not too much of a deal-breaker.”

Sensing the thread of anxiety in his partner’s field, Wheeljack throws an arm over the seeker’s shoulders with an easy grin. “Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll manage. And besides,” he says in a fake-conspiratory mumble, “I don’t think I could bear recharging anymore without these blankets of yours, they’re really something special.”

Sure, he’s not exactly a fan of being examined by the masses like a specimen under a microscope, but seeing Starscream laugh like that, at something he said, makes it all seem pretty bearable.

As Starscream flies home, zig-zagging between Metroplex’s towers in his altmode, he can’t help but miss the war, just a tiny bit. Primus, what he wouldn’t give for a chance to simply hold the council of worlds at gunpoint, to make them actually listen to him for once. But no, in this new, civilized age, he has to hear them squabble over everything for hours on end, wasting everyone’s time and still getting nowhere.

Doing a few loops in the air to properly stretch his wings, his thoughts begin to stray towards the recent addition to his penthouse. It’s been a few chords since the move, and while living with Wheeljack has certainly had its difficulties, so far it’s been surprisingly… pleasant. He’d almost forgotten how nice it was, being greeted by a mech who was actually happy to see him after a long day of work, work, and more work.

Buoyed by the thought, he transforms once he reaches his tower’s balcony and makes his way inside with a small spring in his step, only to bump into the engineer standing right behind the door. Steadying himself on Wheeljack’s chestplate, he barely manages to note the anxiety in his lover’s field before he’s hit with a verbal barrage.

“Right, so, first, I wanna say that it was an accident and I’ll clean it all up. Most of it should scrub out I think, but some of it got on the sheets and the wall above my desk’s a little burned and-“

“Wheeljack!” shouts Starscream, smacking a servo over the engineer’s mouth to try and parse out what he’s just heard. “Slow down! You said something about an accident- are you alright?”

“What, me?” says Wheeljack, stepping a bit further away. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just a bit dirty,“ he reassures, waving his concerns off.

Now that Starscream can properly take him in, he sees the soot and odd colored stains littering his entire upper half, though, to his relief, he can’t see any signs of injury. With that out of the way, his processor manages to register the rest of that frenzied rant, and he quickly shoulders past the contrite looking engineer, marching his way into their berthroom.

It’s a disaster. Wheeljack’s already beaten looking desk is currently covered in soot and chunks of unknown origin, as are the nearby walls, the floor, and their berth. The explosion, as that’s surely what it was, also seems to have broken various other vials that were on said desk, whose contents are currently spilling all over the floor and making it look like an abstract artist’s canvas.

“I swear it was an accident, really,” calls out Wheeljack from somewhere behind him.

Starscream suppresses the urge to scream, field flaring out in frustration. For a moment, he wants to yell at Wheeljack, to complain about his ruined furniture and make him repeat the house rules for explosives ten times over until they stick. He’s already had a bad cycle and he feels close to snapping as he turns to the engineer, but then he just- falters.

Wheeljack looks anxious, wringing his servos together, a genuine, openly apologetic expression on his faceplates, and Starscream feels all the fight going out of him. He should have expected it, really, when he brought this brilliant disaster of a mech into his home. Everyone knows that ‘explosions’ and ‘Wheeljack’ are a package deal, and while that joke was certainly funnier when it wasn’t his home being wrecked, he can’t seem to get properly mad at him for it. Anyone else, he’d happily screech their audials off, but… not Wheeljack, it would seem.

“It’s alright,” he sighs, watching his lover relax a bit. “I suppose accidents happen, especially around you.”

“Yeahh, I know. Sorry again, I’ll go clean it up.”

“Hmpf. You better.”

Wheeljack wakes in the middle of the night, the last vestiges of a fading nightmare leaving him feeling bleary and cold. Somewhere next to him, he can hear the near-silent hum of Starscream’s systems as he recharges, a faint heat emanating from his plating. Wanting nothing more than to return to his already too few hours of rest, he’s in the slow process of turning towards his lover when a sharp object meets his optical glass with a resounding crack.

He rears back with a yelp, one servo covering his stinging optic while he onlines the other, just in time to see Starscream jump up onto his knees, gun in hand and aimed at the door.

“What happened?” the seeker shouts, shattering the last vestiges of the night’s peace as he frantically looks around for an unseen danger.

Doing his own sweep of the place and really wishing he’d kept a weapon in his subspace, Wheeljack fires back, “My optic’s busted, but I don’t know- oh, wait,“ he cuts himself off, quieter now, and points at one of the seeker’s flared out wings. “Star, look.”

In the near-complete darkness of the room, the tiny glowing smudge of processed energon on the pointy tip of Starscream’s wing easily stands out. As the seeker turns his helm and freezes at the sight, Wheeljack’s recharge-addled processor manages to put the pieces together and he slumps, feeling exhausted now that the fear has passed.

“Looks like I’ve just had a little accident,” he chuckles, running proper diagnostics on the optic to see how far the damage goes, “no assassins here or nothing. Still, what kind of luck is that, huh?”

No reply is forthcoming. When Wheeljack looks over at Starscream, he finds his partner’s gaze flicking between his stained wing and his own busted optic with a guilty expression.

“You okay, Star?

“I hurt you,” rasps the seeker, an unexpected amount of self-reproach coloring every glyph.

“What? No, if anything I hurt myself, and it’s not like you poked my eye out on purpose,” he laughs quietly, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, it’s just a crack in the glass, the actual optic under is fine. I’ll pop over to the clinic in the morning, get it replaced, no problem. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

Starscream nods, shoulders relaxing a little, though his field still remains drawn close to his frame. “That’s good. Still, you’re hurt because of me, and that’s-“

“I know, I know. Seriously though, it’s fine,” says Wheeljack, scooting across the berth to put an arm around his seeker’s shoulders, lightly petting down the edge of one wing. “Wasn’t your fault. No hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings,” repeats Starscream, the tension finally leaving his frame as his field unfurls, gently meshing with Wheeljack’s. “Though perhaps you might benefit from inventing some sort of harder optical glass,” jokes the seeker dryly, “sounds like a nice potential side project for you.”

“Hah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As much as Starscream generally loathes the colonists and all the problems that come with them, he has to give them one thing: their entertainment programs are excellent. Not in terms of actual quality, Primus no, but they’re so over-the-top dramatic he can’t help but enjoy them.

It’s been a quiet evening so far, screaming protagonists in the show notwithstanding. Metroplex is stable, he’s caught up on his datawork and Wheeljack is a warm weight on his side, their fields comfortably intertwined.

“Wasn’t the red one over there conjunxed to that backstabbing emissary?” asks the engineer idly, looking up only for a moment before returning his attention to the tablet in his servos.

Starscream snorts. “That was two episodes ago. Besides, the whole thing was a sham in order to spy on the grand chancellor.”

“Seriously?” laughs Wheeljack, nudging him playfully. “And they call our relationship weird.”

“I think you should lay off the tabloids, dearest,” he says dryly, rolling his optics. “Just yesterday, they were accusing me of having a sordid affair with the mistress of flame, so I wouldn’t really put much stock in their opinion on anything.”

Wheeljack puts the tablet down, looking at him incredulously. “They said what now? Really?”

“Yes, really,” hums Starscream, before leaning over his lover with a teasing grin. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? Why would I want some preachy old crone when I have you?”

Smiling up at him, Wheeljack throws both arms over his shoulders. “Y’know, sometimes I’m not sure why you’d want me either. Really glad you do, though,” he says, before retracting his mask and leaning in.

As their lips meet, the show’s characters start up their third shouting match of the episode, but no one’s really paying attention anymore.

[son1c]

robot animals are just regular animals with extra steps

falling stars fic masterpost

The desert was quiet at night. None of the palm trees wanted to talk, and only rustled when Omega got too close. They turned their leaves away from his noisy thrusters prudishly, refusing to look at him or the hedgehogs he carried in his hands as they flew by.

Without the warmth of the sun, the desert was also a cold place. A chill swept over the red capped dunes, tossing sand around like confetti at a birthday party. It mixed with yellow sand to the east and orange sand to the west, creating a swirling vortex of color that made it difficult to keep track of where they were and where they had been. A minute ago, they'd passed by a green sand hill, but when Sonic looked back, the only thing he could see was a mountain of purple.

Omega didn't seem bothered by the shifting terrain. He stayed the course toward Scrap Brain Base with a confidence that only a robot with an internal GPS could have. Sonic was glad he knew where he was going, but he wished he'd brought a blanket. The robot's large titanium hands were freezing cold, and the blue hedgehog couldn't help but shiver. Shadow shivered, too, despite his fever.

The sooner they got to Scrap Brain, the better.

But their trip across the desert continued. And continued. And continued. As the minutes wore on, Sonic's patience grew thinner, and he had to exercise a good deal of willpower just to keep himself from asking Omega “Are we there yet?” every two minutes.

Thankfully, something new eventually started appearing amongst the colorful sands: scrap metal. It was only a few pieces at first, but that changed quickly. After about a minute or two, the rainbow dunes were swallowed up by sheets of half-rusted steel and broken, mismatched robot parts. The sea of scrap had become so thick that Omega couldn’t even fly in a straight line anymore; he was forced to swerve around the larger bits of metal that jutted out from the ground like skewers.

As they continued through the junkyard, the name Scrap Brain Base was beginning to make a lot of sense to Sonic.

But before he could start wondering where the "Base" part of it was, Omega crested the top of a large hill, and Sonic’s eyes widened. What he saw laid out before him was a far cry from the barren desert. Now, everything was plated in chrome, and there were structures everywhere. Large silver buildings pierced the sky, glittering alongside the stars. The biggest building by far, however, was the massive chrome dome in the middle of the complex, and once Omega touched down on the stable metal ground, he began walking toward it.

There was also movement. Everywhere he looked, Sonic could see robots milling about. Oversized wasp bots peppered the sky, their wings buzzing as they crossed the Base's air space. Sonic waved at the group nearest to him, and the three striped robots flew over quickly. Maybe a little too quickly.

The robots looked angry. But Sonic kind of just assumed that's what they normally looked like--angry. Wasps weren't known for having a calm temperament, after all. So, he wasn't afraid when they crowded around Omega, their stingers pointed down at him.

"Pretty snazzy paint job there," Sonic said to the wasp robots. "Too bad you guys aren't red. Then you'd really remind me of a certain someone!"

The wasp robots buzzed. They looked at each other uncertainly, as if they weren't sure what they were seeing.

That was when Buggy decided to pipe up. From its spot on Omega's shoulder, the little motobug beeped at the wasp robots, and then gestured to Sonic with one of its claws. It then pointed toward itself before casually wagging its claw. It beeped again.

The wasp robots flitted around Omega, who was pointedly ignoring them. They still seemed unsure.

Sonic smiled at them. "Any friend of Buggy's is a friend of mine!"

Finally, one of the wasp robots got close enough for Sonic to reach out and touch it. He did so with the same excitement you'd find on a kid at a candy store. He gave the robot a light pat on the top of its head, his eyes sparkling. Completely nonthreatening.

Much like the motobug before it, the wasp robot didn't know how to react at first. It knew it should probably run him through with its stinger while his guard was down, but the confusion it was currently experiencing jammed its processors. Was the motobug telling the truth, and this guy really wasn't Sonic the Hedgehog?

The other wasp robots started to get curious. They stopped buzzing around Omega's head and moved to hover in front of Sonic, who now had three buzzy bombers staring at him like lost puppies. He was thrilled. "There's enough for everybody," he said. But because he was still holding Shadow with one arm, he could only spare one hand for the wasp robots. Miraculously, they all waited their turn to get a little scratch on the cheek from him before flying off.

"Playing with bugs again, hedgehog?" Shadow asked sleepily.

Sonic jumped. "Stripes!" His face broke out into a grin, his surprise quickly giving way to relief. "Oh, man. You just missed 'em--but don't feel too bad, alright? This place is crawling with robots--it's so cool!"

Shadow sat up fully. With eyes still somewhat bleary from his impromptu nap, he looked around. They were almost to the chrome dome's doorstep now. The tall metallic structure towered over them, but its size wasn't what caught Shadow's attention; it was the shape of it. It almost looked like a face, with a long metallic mustache jutting out from both sides.

It looked startlingly familiar.

Sonic said, "I'll catch you up to speed. After your little stunt with the helicopter took you outta the game, things weren't lookin' too hot. Luckily, Omega got us a get-out-of-jail-free card! And now we're gonna meet the guy responsible. Right, Omega?"

Omega stopped walking, having finally reached the entrance to the dome. He replied, "AFFIRMATIVE." Then, he stared intently at the button on the wall in front of him. With his hands full of hedgehogs, he couldn't press it. "BLUE HEDGEHOG," he said, "YOU MUST RING THE DOORBELL."

Sonic pressed the button. A little electronic jingle played. And kept playing.

"What's the hold up?" Sonic asked. "You sure they're not out on a milk run, Omega?"

Suddenly, the jingle stopped. A holographic screen popped out of the button, and the face of a man with a bushy mustache appeared. He didn't look happy. "Back so soon, Omega? Don't tell me you were unable to locate the source of that energy anomaly. I don't have time to waste on failure right now…"

Omega lifted up his hands and presented Sonic and Shadow to the man. "PRIMARY DIRECTIVE COMPLETE," he said. "REQUESTING ACCESS TO SCRAMBLED BRAIN BOWL."

The man stared at Sonic and Shadow.

The hedgehogs stared back at him.

Sonic broke the silence first. "I guess we have you to thank for Omega's help earlier, huh? Gotta say, this 'Robotropolis' thing you've got going on here sure came as a surprise! I kinda dig it, though."

The man was very quiet. After a moment, he said, "For an old friend such as yourself, I could spare no expense."

In a flash, the door to the Brain Bowl slid open.

"But this is no way to have our reunion! Please, come in." The man grinned at Sonic and Shadow. "It seems as though we have some… catching up… to do."

The holographic screen disappeared, taking the man's face with it. Then, Omega stepped into the Brain Bowl, and the hedgehogs got their first clear view of the interior. It was filled with heavy machinery and blinking lights. It was also ginormous--the room they had stepped into appeared to be more of an airplane hanger than a real room, and it was packed with in-progress inventions.

And one of those inventions…

Shadow hopped down from Omega's hands. He walked over to a dark blue robot that looked an awful lot like a hedgehog. It seemed to be complete, but deactivated for the time being, if the blank screen on its face was anything to go by.

"Gee, Stripes," Sonic said. "First a hero, now a robot? Seems like you've gotta lotta copycats runnin' around!"

Shadow turned away from the hedgehog robot so he could address Omega. "Do you know anything about this?"

"METAL SONIC IS CURRENTLY UNDERGOING MAINTENANCE," Omega replied.

Shadow looked back toward the dark blue robot. With a name like that, it must be a fake of the dead hero. He wondered what its purpose was, but Omega was already halfway across the hanger.

With one last glance, Shadow stepped away from the robot. He rejoined Omega, Sonic, and the motobug, and they all piled into a lift on the far side of the hanger together. However, instead of going up, the lift carried them downward, to the deepest part of the basement.

None of them saw Metal Sonic's eyes blink to life as they descended through the many levels of the Brain Bowl.

It didn't take long until they reached the bottom.

Once there, they passed through an open doorway and entered the room where Omega's creator was waiting for them. The man was clad in a long red coat, and his shiny glasses hid his eyes from view. Sonic couldn't help but notice the resemblance between him and Omega. He found it amusing.

"Excellent work, Omega," the man said, his hands clasped behind his back. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a moment to speak with our guests. Alone." He punctuated his words with a shooing motion.

Omega set Sonic down next to Shadow and then stomped off. He took the motobug (who was trying to make itself as small as possible) with him.

The man turned to Sonic and Shadow. "Well, well, well," he said. "Your tenacity never ceases to amaze me, Sonic. And here I thought you might not've survived your trip through our atmosphere! My mistake."

Sonic and Shadow looked at each other.

Shadow said, "It's true, then? The fallen hero… is me?"

The man's glasses flashed. He let out a laugh. "Oh-ho-ho! So, that's how it is, hmm?" He looked between the two hedgehogs for a moment. "Your fall has left you both without any clue as to who you really are. Is that right?"

"Nah," Sonic said quickly. He sounded irritated, almost defensive. "I know who I am. I'm just not sure who I was. But I don't care about that." He leaned heavily on his good leg, and jerked his thumb in Shadow's direction. "It's Stripes who's lookin' for answers. You got 'em? Or are we gonna need to look someplace else?"

The man peered at Sonic. The mask he wore gave nothing away. "Even without your memories, your attitude has remained intact." He stroked his mustache thoughtfully, and finally turned his attention toward Shadow. "Stripes, was it? I alone hold the keys to your past. I will gladly hand them over to you, but before you take them, remember this: some doors are better left closed!"

Shadow frowned. He thought about the flashes of memories he'd already seen, and how they all carried a sort of melancholy with them. "There might be some truth to your words," he admitted. He squeezed his hands into fists at his sides. "But that doesn't matter to me. I need to know what lies beyond those doors!"

The man grinned. "Very well," he said. "In that case, your name is Shadow the Hedgehog. You're an artificial lifeform created to combat the tyrannical rule of G.U.N--of which you should be quite familiar." He paused, letting that information sink in before continuing. "In their pursuit of power, those fools have endangered the world. You and your little blue friend fell from space after taking care of just one of the many problems they've caused. Although, your escape from certain death might be short lived…"

"Hold it," Sonic said. "Are you sayin' that Stripes--Shadow--is gonna die? Seriously?"

It was hard to dispute what the man was telling them. Even now, Shadow still felt a little feverish.

"Don't you worry," the man said coyly. "Now that you've found your way back to me, I will subdue the Chaos Energy that's boiling his blood."

"And who are you to make such a claim?" Shadow asked.

The man's grin turned wolfish. "I'm the one who created you, of course. Doctor Ivo Robotnik. But you may call me Doctor Eggman!"

[the-technicolor-whiscash]

Yesterday (March 16th) was the 58th anniversary of Gemini VIII, one of many times Neil Armstrong almost died and the mission patch is my icon so I figure I ought to explain what happened

Essentially, it was a Gemini mission intending to demonstrate rendezvous and docking in space. Neil Armstrong and Dave Scott were in their Gemini spacecraft, and were to dock with an Agena target vehicle, which was an unmanned piece of equipment that always seemed to have problems and regularly got exploded by the unreliable Atlas rockets that launched them. That’s why Gemini VI rendezvoused with Gemini VII, because their Agena blew up. Great track record there. Anyway alongside the docking they were also scheduled to do a spacewalk as well as an array of scientific experiments, hence the patch: it was covering a spectrum of research.

Their docking went according to plan. Then, while the ship was out of radio contact, the docked Gemini/Agena started spinning uncontrollably. This was understandably a bad time.

Because they had had so many issues with the Agena, their first assumption was that it was a problem with an Agena thruster. Scott undocked them from the Agena. They started spinning faster, reaching nearly one rotation a second, near to the point where a human would pass out. They realize that no, it wasn’t the Agena, it was a thruster on the normally reliable Gemini capsule which was stuck on.

Armstrong, a quick-thinking level-headed test pilot, quickly taps into fuel typically reserved for landing and evens out the spin so they don’t yknow. Die. And as much as they want to stay in space to complete their experiments, procedure stated that after you tapped into the landing fuel, you had to return to earth. Thus, they reenter the atmosphere and make a safe splashdown in the Pacific Ocean.

Last month, I got to see the piece of the thruster which malfunctioned and almost killed Armstrong and Scott:

After the incident, Scott would go on to fly two Apollo missions, Apollo 9 and 15. Armstrong would be the first man on the moon on Apollo 11.

Anyway. Just a little space travel history for you.

[lifes-remedy]

"May: Emerald"

“ Did you really think I wasn't going to be able to track my own ship? The Sun Incinerator's specialized nova thrusters give off an energy signature I could recognize from the other side of the galaxy! Now surrender to me or be destroyed! ”  Emerald—"Lars of the Stars"

Steven Universe Birthstone: May

[carionto]

Predator mode

Big Thrasher was not a happy camper after his first encounter with Humanity. There is a certain exponential curve to simple ballistic weapons, whereas shields, which start off way above, progress on a geometric line. E in = E out (mostly, some charge is lost in conversion) vs E=MC^2. He learned that the hard way when three of his toughest cruisers were reduced to space dust by, as he later learned to his horror, a mid-sized transport ship using Human standard issue rail cannons.

Someone smart would move on and avoid Humanity. Big Thrasher isn't a complete idiot, but he is a prideful and narcissistic pirate captain. Thus his ability to make sensible decisions is handicapped severely. Now he has made a most dubious one indeed:

Infiltrate a Human science station and steal all their secrets and use them to get sweet, juicy, delicious revenge!

Finding one was disturbingly easy, there's so many of them. Like, at least one for each star system within eighty light years from Sol, one for each planet within thirty, and then it just gets ridiculous within Sol itself. Oddly enough, despite their size, typically there are no more than ten people aboard, almost all Human, only a few are joint Coalition.

Thinking long and hard (something Big Thrasher is not a fan of) he decided on his target - a lone station on the very outskirts of publicly known Human activity and furthest away from any major Coalition systems.

When his reconstructed fleet arrived behind the local gas giant, the station was sitting in mid orbit of the inner rock planet and was broadcasting something strange on open channels - a melodic chant of sorts:

"..live on a Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submari.."

whatever that meant. No matter, Big Thrasher's fleet was moving in on the target, stealth drives on, weapons ready, numbers on their side, element of surprise - the perfect ambush.

...

Where did the station go?

Before Big Thrasher could register neural activity to try and answer that, it appeared. Behind them. And a small explosion happened moments earlier where it used to be, but the main concern was the station firing its stabilizer thrusters to rotate it at incredible speeds, then a long blade slicing one of his ships in two. Then it disappeared again. And another small explosion.

Once more, it suddenly reappeared behind another one of his ships and did the same thing, but this time used its thrusters to quickly move towards the vessel and impale it on a massive spike. Disappear. Small explosion in its place.

Three. Four. Five. They're losing ships by the second. A literal space station sized target and they can't keep track of it, let alone land a single hit. How is it teleporting? What are those explosions?

WHY IS A SPACE STATION ENGAGING HIS PIRATE SPACE SHIP FLEET IN MELEE COMBAT!

WHY WOULD ANYONE THINK TO DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!?!

WHY IS IT WINNING!?!??!

Big Thrasher once again order an emergency retreat, what remained of his fleet scattered to randomly selected quick hyperjump coordinates, and would regroup in a few weeks time.

_______________________

Aboard the experimental development station Tree of Grating Whispers the crew of seven were hastily putting out fires and trying not to throw up from all the gee forces they just endured, kinetic dampeners be damned.

A few hours later, all in their environmental suits, as the life support system was dead, they convened for an after-action report:

"Right, so, good news and bad news. Good news - short range teleporter works perfectly. Bad news - each unit doesn't teleport with us and just explodes, further data has been unrecoverable so far.

Good news - rapid action thruster and kinetic combat mode works. Bad news - can't have biologicals onboard and even moderately durable systems break after a few swings.

Overall, I'd say this has been a success (unanimous nodding). Let's get to working out the kinks and we'll have a presentable version for the military. We'll also have to thank those pirates for not masking their engine heat trails, this was a great field trial guys, real proud of everyone!"

The chief says, while high on painkillers (and so is the rest of the crew), as another part of the station self-immolates.

[gumnut-logic]

As Australia moves closer and closer to the new year, I just want to wish all of you a Happy New Year with a wonderful 2024 to you all.

Thank you for all your amazing support over the last five and a half years. Thunderfam is amazing and that is because of you.

Have a gorgeous Virgil pic and a little bit of fic from new years past :D

-o-o-o-

Ten...the match caught and flickered in the breeze. She caught it, wrapping it with her hands, nursing it to the candle, and letting out a breath as flared into life.

Module Four hit the surface of the North Pacific Ocean and immediately started rolling in the swell. Thunderbird Two’s heavy-duty spotlights tracked it as it was tossed about.

“Gordon, you okay?”

“Riding it out. Though I have to say, I’m glad I didn’t over indulge at dinner.” Virgil watched as all the module indicators flicked to green. “We are go for module deployment.”

“Make it fast. That swell is unpredictable.” He would have preferred to have lowered TB4 using the grapples, but the wind gusts were more problematic than the swell. As if to reassure him of his decision, TB2 was suddenly swiped sideways. He compensated hurriedly, bringing her back to stability, her lights once again training on the module. It was the better of two poor choices.

The undersea habitat didn’t have a choice, so here they were, in the pitch dark of the last hour of the year, attempting to fish more scientists out of the deep.

The weather was not cooperating.

Gordon lowered the ramp, and with a speed he would not usually deploy, shot off into the cold and turbulent water.

Virgil grunted as the wind caught his girl again.

Module retrieval was going to be a bitch.

-o-o-o-

Nine...she took the first candle from its holder and gently tilted it towards its brother. The two wicks touched and flickered. The two became one.

Space is silent, but it isn’t. There is always some kind of machinery functioning to keep life alive. Whether it be Thunderbird Three herself, or his own helmet, Alan was always accompanied by sound.

At this very moment, it was his own swearing.

“Goddamnit, move!”

But the airlock refused to obey. Likely fused shut by the explosion that had set the ship adrift, it was between him and the three remaining life signs. He had to get it open, their life support was failing.

“John, what are the chances of me cutting through this?”

“Not great. It is reinforced. Have you tried the Claw?”

The Claw, complete with a capital C, was a piece of equipment designed by Virgil based on his exo-suit. Virgil rarely made it out into space, but there was occasionally the need for heavy lifting out in the void. It used a grip attached to a thruster pack and could be deployed to create force in any direction.

“It was next on my list.”

“You’ve got nine minutes left.”

“Working on it.” He pulled in his equipment pack, tethered to his sled, and grabbed the Claw. Fastening the grip onto the airlock wheel, he deployed the thruster pack to give the correct directional push.

And the wheel refused to budge.

-o-o-o-

Eight...the first candle flickered haphazardly, once again teased by the breeze as she moved it to the second of its brethren. She smiled just slightly as it, too, caught and flared.

“How do they expect me to catch something I can’t see?!”

It was muttered at his instruments and he didn’t expect an answer. All his scanning equipment was trained ahead attempting to locate the hidden exhaust of an experimental plane deployed by the GDF. It would have been an interesting experiment, if the pilot wasn’t currently trapped inside. It was codenamed Nighthawk because the plane was designed to work best at night - apparently testing it during the day would have made Scott’s rescue attempt a little too easy. So here he was after dark, on New Year’s Eve of all nights, flying over the back end of New South Wales attempting to find an invisible plane.

Yet again, International Rescue was the only organisation with the mechanical guts to fix the GDF’s problems.

It pissed him off big time.

His sensors flickered, his arms moved, and Thunderbird One darted to starboard. For just a moment he had the craft clear as day in his sights.

Then it was gone again.

It was only a matter of time before it crashed. He could communicate with the pilot, but the signals were scrambled and misdirected and no use for locating anything. When the GDF screwed up, they screwed up big time.

“C’mon, c’mon!” He brought TB1 to a hover, every sensor combing the darkness around him.

A flicker.

Another.

Nothing.

A godawful metallic screech as something impacted his ‘bird’s hull on the port side. She swung around, spun on her axis, and suddenly Scott was in free fall.

-o-o-o-

Seven...the third candle wouldn’t catch. She bit her lip, and prayed just a little. The breeze threatened.

John Tracy wished he had more hands. Two were not enough when he had four brothers - one in space, one underwater, and two in the air.

“Scott! You need altitude! Impact in twenty seconds.”

His brother grunted as his hologram grimaced, fighting the controls of his ‘bird.

John didn’t need a damage report, TB5 provided him with all too much detail. Damage to Thunderbird One’s port side VTOL and flight stabiliser had her in a spin.

“She’s not responding.”

“You’ve got additional weight on your port side.” John’s fingers flew across the hologram, attempting to ascertain exactly what the readings were trying to tell him. Damn. “You have a mass embedded in her superstructure, despite the fact we can’t see it.” Calculations. “You’re going to have to attempt to land vertically. Use your rear thrusters to support the imbalance.”

It wasn’t going to be easy. Thunderbird One wasn’t designed to be anywhere vertical but on her gantry, but there was no way Scott would be able to sustain a horizontal landing.

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.” It was said through gritted teeth.

He couldn’t help but think that if Thunderbird Two had been sharing the same airspace as her sister, she could have pulled her out of her dive.

But she wasn’t.

And John was left to watch.

-o-o-o-

Six...the third wick absolutely refused to light and her heart clenched. Let it rest a moment. She moved onto the fourth candle and touched the flame to the waxed cotton.

Night rescues weren’t really out of the ordinary, but they could be eerie. As he left the reach of Thunderbird Two’s powerful spots, he had to rely on the illumination his own Thunderbird could emit. And Thunderbird Four could shine a considerable wattage.

Underwater nightlife was a whole different ocean full of fish in comparison to that under daylight. Despite being in the middle of open ocean, this particular spot was above the very top of a great undersea mountain, just high enough to support the beginnings of a temperate reef system. No doubt one of the reasons the mobile observatory was in the area.

“Undersea Habitat Victor-Two-Zero-Romeo, this is Thunderbird Four, do you read me?”

The line crackled a moment, but a female voice gasped and answered. “Oh, thank god. We are down to our last module. Please hurry.”

“FAB, ma’am. I’m on approach. Can you give me any further detail on the cause of the problem?”

“It won’t go away and keeps attacking.”

Gordon frowned. “What won’t go away?”

“The whale.”

“A whale?!” And his spots lit up the damaged habitat. It looked as if it had been pummelled with a giant baseball bat. Of the five interconnected modules, only one had any sign of life. “Why would a whale attack you?”

But he didn’t get a chance to listen to her answer as his spots lit up a giant mass of flesh, an eyeball, and suddenly Thunderbird Four was rolling.

-o-o-o-

Five...when the fourth candle refused to light, she took firmer measures and turned to the iron fire pot and touched the first candle to paper. It burst into flame.

“Alan, you’ve got incoming debris!”

“What?!”

But John didn’t need to repeat himself as the first of the projectiles tore through the space in front of his helmet and ricocheted off the hull of the space freighter, narrowly missing his arm.

“Shit!”

“Take cover. Freighter’s starboard side. Now.”

Alan grabbed the Claw and flipped himself vertically to thrust in the right direction and tore around the engine compartment of the ship and hid in a crevice directly opposite the incoming stream. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“Apologies, Alan, I didn’t catch it early enough.”

Alan sighed. He knew his brother was stretched thin at the moment. Apparently dangerously thin. He should have been paying more attention himself.

“We’re down to five minutes.”

“I know.” Silent impacts thundered around him. “Is there any other way in that doesn’t require me to be swiss cheesed?”

“Only the maintenance hatch you dismissed earlier.”

“We may not have a choice.” Alan sighed. “I’ll see what I can do, but it is going to be tight. It wasn’t meant for ship access.” But he would make it work.

Grabbing the Claw and his laser cutter, Alan darted out from his crevice and along the length of the ship, hiding in its shadow. A snap of a carabiner and he was secured once again.

“Okay, you hunk of junk, I’m going to kick your ass.”

-o-o-o-

Four...The breeze was stronger and the first candle flickered out, leaving just the one burning, flickering sporadically. She added fuel to the fire pot.

The flash was blinding and Virgil swore.

Lightning wasn’t a problem, but the storm was. “Gordon, you need to make this quick, the weather is deteriorating faster than we anticipated. He swore again as a nasty downdraft attempted to shove the cargo plane into the turbulent ocean.

The module below was being thrown about like a cork. Virgil made the decision. “Thunderbird Four, I am submerging the module. You will need to dock underwater.” His fingers darted across controls as Thunderbird Two shuddered through another nasty downdraft. Below, the mechanics of Module Four started pumping water and it slipped beneath the waves to hover at a depth that would protect it from the turbulence.

“FAB, Virgil - Shit!”

“Gordon?”

“We have a pissed off whale down here!”

Virgil watched as his readouts tracked Thunderbird Four. She was darting, rolling and suddenly shoved sideways by massive lifesign. He grit his teeth, unable to do anything to help.

-o-o-o-

Three…she built up the fire pot until it was a massive towering flame.

Scott yanked the lever backwards and let off a prayer to the god of pilots.

Thunderbird One attempted to respond, and he grit his teeth. “C’mon.” Without her port thruster, getting her vertical was a challenge. “C’mon, damnit.” The extra weight dragged and she refused to stabilise.

The air was dark around him, but his instruments were screaming altitude loss and collision warnings, his cockpit lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Goddamnit, fly!”

-

Gordon swooped around the mass of angry whale. What the hell was his problem. And it was definitely a ‘he’, a full-on bull sperm whale, a very unhappy one.

He ran through whale behaviours in his head as he swooped and dove towards the habitat. A hand darted across his instruments, searching...

-

Alan hit the hatch with his fist in frustration. Grip, for crying out loud!

He was down to three minutes to get these guys out and he still hadn’t made it into the damn ship yet.

There was no sound in space, other than the scream in his own helmet as suddenly the entire side of the ship was torn away, a chunk of rock tearing through its hull.

The Claw spun off into space.

-

John bit through his lip, his concentration total on all four brothers. One hand played his holographic controls like Virgil played his piano, data shunted off to where it was desperately needed at the flick of a finger. The other spun between views, scans and acquired information at the full speed his highly advanced Thunderbird could manage.

“Virgil! Waterspout!” And the information was shunted directly to TB2.

-

“Waterspout?! What the hell!” Thunderbird Two groaned as he forced her sideways out of the path of the anomaly. The crosswinds were shit, and she dipped noseward. Damnit!

He kicked in her rear thrusters, killed the VTOL and tore across the ocean in an arc, circling around to return for pickup. She bucked like a rebellious mare.

-o-o-o-

Two...she grabbed all five doused candles in one fist.

Gordon swore again as the whale clipped him on one side. “Okay, I’ve had enough of this. Undersea Habitat Victor-Two-Zero-Romeo, I want you to kill all transmissions. All kinds. I want you silent as the grave.”

“What?”

He spun TB4 on her axis. “Now. If I think what is happening is happening this is your own fault, do what I say!”

He sighed as all transmission bands went silent. He scanned the full spectrum. No....no...ah, damn there it was. “I said all of them!” And it finally disappeared.

Another dodge of a whale fluke and Gordon peeled off in a curve.

-

Alan tasted blood. He had bitten clean through his cheek. He spun slowly in space, the ship in front of him sporting a jagged hole in its side.

Just big enough for an astronaut to crawl through.

Two minutes and counting...

-

Thunderbird One bucked like a mule, but he finally managed to get her vertical enough to fire her rear thrusters. Their plummet slowed.

The holographic ground was still coming up fast.

-

Virgil homed in on the module’s signal, finding once again his place in space. Lightning flashed in warning.

-

John held his breath. Seconds ticked by...

-o-o-o-

One...with determination she thrust all five wicks into the roaring flame of the fire pot. Burn damn you.

Scott yelled as his thrusters made contact with solid ground.

Gordon flicked a control and Thunderbird Four sung into the darkness.

Alan dove into the ship, calling out in desperation.

Virgil swore yet again as Thunderbird Two bucked.

John wished he could close his eyes.

-o-o-o-

All five candles burst into vibrant flame, the five merging into one, defying the breeze, taking on the energy of the fire pot and burning strongly.

Just as midnight passed over Tracy Island, Sally Tracy separated out the five candles and placed each of them in their holders. She smiled just slightly as each eagerly leapt up brightly, dancing.

“Grandma? Have you heard anything from John?” Kayo walked across the comms room towards the balcony where Sally had set up the fire pot. The breeze tousled her hair as it lay loose around her shoulders.

“Not in the last ten minutes.”

Kayo came up close and hugged her. “Happy New Year, Grandma.”

She kissed her granddaughter on her cheek. “Happy New Year, honey.”

-o-o-o-

Epilogue

As dawn lit up the sky on Tracy Island, the sun was witness to five very tired brothers flying home. Thunderbird Two had Thunderbird One grasped under her undercarriage, the severely damaged craft sporting a massive dent in her port side. Her pilot sat very unhappily beside Virgil in the cockpit of TB2. Gordon was asleep in the seat behind them.

The sky roared as the great red rocket of Thunderbird Three tore out of re-entry and spun in for landing.

She was followed by the ever-silent drop of the elevator from Thunderbird Five.

Virgil lowered his brother’s ‘bird to the side of TB2’s runway. He and Brains, and no doubt Scott, would be out later to assess the damage and plan repairs. As fast as possible. Scott was intolerable when his ‘bird was down.

He rolled his shoulders as he brought his own ‘bird into land. There would be no shortage of checks to be done on Thunderbird Two, either. Gordon was already complaining about the work to be done on both TB4 and Module Four, and he wasn’t even fully awake.

Thunderbird Two spun in her hanger and he powered her down.

All three brothers sighed.

“Debrief in ten?”

Scott muttered an affirmative and while Virgil ran through post flight, his brothers crawled out of their seats and headed up to the villa.

In the distance, Thunderbird Three roared as she docked in her hanger.

-o-o-o-

“The idiots were emitting random noise on a frequency that could have been designed to piss off a sperm whale. Once I had them kill it off, I dug up something that would interest, but keep that same whale calm, and I led him off. When he was gone, it was easy to grab the three idiots. We docked with the module, surfaced, and then had wonder pilot over here do his retrieval magic. I have to say, Virgil, that was some damn fine manoeuvring.”

Virgil blinked at the unexpected praise. Gordon must be seriously tired. “Thank you. I admit it wasn’t easy, but we made it in one piece. Brains, I will need to do some thorough checks on the grapple launchers and the module connectors, they were put under some serious strain.”

The engineer nodded.

Scott blinked as if he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. “Good job, Gordon, Virgil.” He turned to their youngest brother and frowned. Virgil followed his gaze and found Alan asleep in the corner of the couch.

“I can report for Alan.” John looked as tired as Virgil felt. “All the crew of the freighter were saved. In spite of the unexpected debris storm Alan encountered. Virgil, he will need a new Claw. He might have some modification requests on that front as well. “John yawned. “Sorry, full report will be available as soon as I’ve had enough sleep.”

“Scott, your turn.” And despite himself, Virgil yawned as well.

“I’ll keep it short. Stop doing that.” And Virgil grinned as Scott caught the yawn bug. “The GDF night camouflage is pretty damn good. I had a lot of trouble locating their craft. That problem was solved by said ship colliding with Thunderbird One’s port side. You’ve seen the damage. She’s down for repairs. We’ll know for how long as soon as Brains has a chance to assess it. Pilot was a lucky bastard and survived with only minor injuries. Apparently, the camouflage works both ways and navigation from inside the ship is extremely difficult. It’s back to the drawing board for the GDF.” And he spat the acronym. “Brains, you might want to check out One’s logs on what she could detect. All I can say is that Thunderbird Shadow walks all over them.” There was no shortage of smugness in that statement either.

Accompanied by another yawn.

“Well done everyone.”

They all muttered something congratulatory, punctuated by another round of yawns.

“Oh, and Happy New Year.”

A couple of grunts followed that.

“Get some sleep and we’ll look at throwing some belated fireworks.”

More grunting.

“Dismissed.”

Virgil stood up with creaking bones and stumbled towards the stairs.

And almost collided with his grandmother.

“Oh, so sorry, Grandma.” He steadied her with one hand, suddenly aware of four brothers lining up behind him. In the corner of his eye, Alan was wobbling with Gordon holding one of his arms to keep him steady.

Grandma grabbed him in a hug. “Happy New Year, Virgil.”

He startled and immediately returned the embrace, dropping his chin onto her head and holding her tight. “Happy New Year, Grandma.” He kissed her hair. His eyes darted to his brothers, all four frozen to the spot.

She let him go, but looked up at him and smiled, before darting to Scott and repeating the process.

Virgil frowned, staring just a little as she moved from one brother to another, wishing each of them a Happy New Year and hugging intensely.

His attention was suddenly drawn away, however, as, silent as always, Kayo appeared and wrapped her arms around him. “Happy New Year, Virgil.”

His eyes widened, but he hugged her and wished her the same. She smiled up at him and then, just like Grandma, moved onto Scott and, hugging him, wished him a Happy New Year.

Virgil simply stared.

Once all the brother hugging had been completed, both women stood back and Grandma started ushering them up the stairs. “Well, off to bed with you. We can celebrate later tonight.” She smiled at all of them.

Kayo’s smile was a little smaller, but just as genuine.

Virgil decided he was too tired to work out what the hell was going on. He turned and began to tackle the stairs. He would think after he had slept.

-o-o-o-

Sally watched her boys climb the stairs wearily.

They were home safe. Tired, but safe.

So far it had been a good year.

-o-o-o-