#Wouldn't be a post by me if there wasn't a spelling error I only find after its been reblogged by like 8 people fml

[seeker-ophelia]

This is a love letter to all the tumblr artists who got us through 10 years

10 Years of Hurt and Angst and Pining and Loss

Sincerely, you artists are da real MVPs

Everyones tagged below the cut

fenharel shame - @rainhol

rook & solas - @fideox

chibi Cole - @sincaotic

adoribull - @orientalld

lounging solas - @an-established-butt-dent

leliana & nug - @doodlownick

kieran & OGB - @thejaguar9art

morrigan - @girl-gwoe

fenris - @fridgemeats

isabela - @milton-chamberlain

varrics phone - @haverdoodles

stressed out varric - @dailydadoodles

rook face - @larkoneironaut

tiny solas - @nikyu0

Target solas (&spiderverse solas/rook) - @pinacoladamatata

spite - @loustica-lucia

manfred - @themaybug

assan (&Alistair w/ cheese) - @olessan

varric - @milton-chamberlain

DJ solas - @chromunist

merrill - @thedragonhermit

puss-in-boots (aka lucanis) - @gormlessboy

anders - @pinkfadespirit

tired soals - @greypetrel

cass/lily/josie - @briccko

Sincerely, thank you guys so much.

7 Sleeps. 168 hours left.

[wonderlandwalker]

Second Chances | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox Summary: Eddie royally screws up your first date (read part 1 here) Content Warnings / Tags: fluff (i think), swearing, the worst luck ever, no use of y/n, henderson!reader, reader is described to have some freckles idk, prolly a lot of spelling errors that I'll fix later read now at your own will Word Count: 1.4k A/N: so I kinda went through some trauma this past month but I just started ADHD meds and surprise surprise they work. Still didn't proofread this and am purely posting it cause I literally just wrote all of it in one go and I have poor impulse control even the meds can't fix that

He was late, and he only knew he was late because Wayne had gotten home and wondered what he was still doing at home. Now normally Wayne wouldn't have bothered grilling the guy, but Eddie hadn't been able to shut up about this for a week. Turns out this day was the day the kitchen clock had decided to stop working, resulting in a TV remote being flung at it the moment Eddie realised, because, of course, it had to be today, of course, his luck would run out again. But Wayne wouldn't let him give up that easily, because as he said it: "fate can go fuck itself, go over there and grovel", which honestly wasn't such a bad idea. So here he was now, definitely speeding, definitely more nervous than he already was, and definitely praying to any god who would listen for help. Because this was your first date, a date he didn't think would happen in the first place and he has already managed to screw it up without even being there. In an after thought he came to the further realization that he definitely did not want to face Dustin any time soon, the boy had become oddly protective of you once his friends actually clued him in on what was happening, which was obvious to everyone -except as established Dustin- with the way Eddie's eyes would trail after you every time he managed to spot you. He was trying to hype himself up, talk some confidence into himself and find a good way to apologize, not that he thought there were any. But just as he turned the corner to your block he heard it, he heard the worst possible sound on earth at this moment, he heard the sirens to Hopper's car. For a sweet small second, he allowed himself to believe Hopper wasn't after him, there was someone else committing a traffic violation on the other side of the street. Yeah, that's exactly what was going on, on the other side of this very much empty street was a car with a bunch of teens hooking up and Hopper had turned on his siren as a warning so he could put his clothes back on. Thinking about it, that wasn't even such a wild idea, like, that has happened to him before, well, except for the empty street anomaly. Right, time to face the music: Eddie came to a stop only about a hundred meters away from your house and rolled down his window as Hopper approached. Eddie shook out face to rid himself of the nerves and turned on his best smile. "So what's your excuse this time?" The Police Chief began to ask. Eddie quirked up at the question "It's not like the other times Jim I promise." Hopper looked him up and down squinted his eyes at him, cocking his head down just the slightest bit "How many warnings have I given you this month kid?" Eddie sighed, he knew where this was going. "Two" "Which makes this?" "The third" Eddie answered, dragging out his words. "Third warning kid, gotta write you up today" Hopper began to grab the police pad in his back pocket to write up the incident report, but Eddie was not above begging, at least not currently. "Listen, Jim-, Mr Hopper-, Sir, you can give me the ticket but can you please give it to me sometime else-" he was frantically moving his hands while talking now "- I'll even come by the station and pick it up myself tomorrow morning first thing but I have to-" And of course, things had to get worse:

The gods hadn't listened to his hasty prayers, because he could see Dustin in your open front door attempting to push you outside while pointing at Eddie's van. And he could tell the moment you spotted him because he could feel a small nerve entering his system, he could feel your presence connecting with his. And Hopper was asking him to please step out of the car right now. So he did, he stepped out and saw you give him a small wave which he tried to return except Hopper was snapping him out of the trance you still had on him from the other side of the street. So Eddie gave it one last-ditch attempt "Hopper please" "Alright let's hear it, what's your excuse?" Eddie's eyes brightened with the bit of hope he had just grabbed. "I have a date" he tried to explain "A date with who?" The chief wasn't gonna admit it, but the kid had grabbed his interest. So Eddie started rambling about how you two had met and how it should be your first date and then he caught your eyes again and he couldn't hear it but his mind filled in the blanks as he watched your soft giggling while looking at the situation unfold and he felt all his tension drop out of his body at once, he felt at ease from the way your eyes searched his, instantaneously so. "Wait a second, Claudia's daughter?" Hopper was looking over at the porch now too as your mother came out of the house as well. "That's not a great first impression" "Tell me about it" Eddie was trying to ignore reality as hard as he could right now. "Alright here's what's gonna happen, giving you one more warning but it's coming out of your tolerance next month" Hopper had assumed his dad stance, a hand on his hip and the other pointed straight at Eddie, and if he hadn't been oh so terribly grateful right now he would have been tempted to make fun of him for it. "Yes, yes! Definitely that please!" Hopper released one last sigh before he spoke back up "Go on over there then" Eddie took the olive branch and ran away with it before he could change his mind. With his van performing some emergency parking down the road he ran over to you just as you shooed off Dustin, and now he stood face to face with you, he stood close enough to count the fading summer freckles on the bridge of your nose and to smell the perfume he had started associating with you, and he wanted more time to admire how well he could see you right now but he had more pressing business. "I'll make this up to you I promise" He knew his promise probably wasn't worth much, but he had to try anyway. He had already started internally debating if it was worth getting down on his knees to beg as a smile cracked on your face. "This is exactly what Dustin predicted would happen" You were full-on grinning now, and it took him a second to comprehend that you weren't upset, you were amused, and he was confused. "He what?" "When he found out we had a date this weekend he tried to convince me you'd be at least an hour late with the Hopper on your ass I'm just stunned at his accuracy" Maybe this really was his year after all "So you're not upset?" "I'm just upset I owe that nosy dipshit money now" And now Eddie was laughing too because you started asking him if he wanted to just skip his reservation which you guys had missed anyway and go to the drive-in because you had heard they were playing Monty Python. So Monty Python it was as he drove there and got both the sweet and the salty popcorn because he wasn't sure which you'd prefer and spent the rest of the evening what he'd say was the perfect time. But he wasn't done yet, he had promised to make things up to you and this was only the beginning for him, a beginning to many good times ahead.

[@saradika-graphics still being my go-to for dividers] Taglist: @vicurious28, @arlxtoa, @em0220, @madyoghurt, @saturnsbxtchx, @maskofmirrors

[kachikirby]

So last night I finished playing Namco X Capcom.

This will be a kinda long review and opinion thing, so I'll put some of it under a cut.

I do want to note that I did play through the fan translation of this game, and I will be discussing that because that definitely needs to be discussed for reasons you will soon find out.

Do note that I will be showing screens that include spoilers in this post.

My overall thoughts on the game goes like this: If you're already a big fan of Project X Zone and its sequel, you're probably going to like this game, but if you don't, you're probably not going to like it. I can definitely see some things where PXZ improved like not giving every single enemy basic attack animations and reserving them only for a Boss's Special or multi-attack. Those really made the turns feel long. This is why I have to note that it's most enjoyable to do only like a few stages a day.

While the story is like nothing spectacular, it was engaging enough for me to want to see it through to the end. Remember that this is pretty much Namco and Capcom's officially licensed crossover fanfic. This sort of does tie in with another thing I like about this game and that is the cast. I really enjoy Reiji and Xiaomu as characters and their banter is extremely entertaining to watch. As for the main villain, Saya, while she is also entertaining, I'd also say that she's at her best when she's playing the "villain working alongside the protagonists" role like in late-game PXZ1. (and I think the Endless Frontier games, but I haven't played those.)

I also want to discuss the actual Namco and Capcom characters chosen to crossover. Note that this game came out in 2005 so they of course couldn't use anything releasing after that year or in that year. The result is that this game is a time capsule of games that both companies thought were important or popular enough to put in a crossover and definitely would not be put in a PXZ3 if it ever got made. I'm not just talking about the obscure arcade game characters when I say that, I'm also talking about games like Klonoa and Resident Evil Dead Aim. While yes, PXZ also has to take into account Sega, I still wouldn't think they would really show up if it was just Namco and Capcom games, especially since both companies have a lot more popular franchises to draw from when choosing characters.

Now I do want to talk about the translation of this game. Now I want to let you know that it is a fan translation, and I know it's a lot of work to work on these and kudos to everyone who took their time to work on this, but I do want to give an honest opinion on it as someone who has worked on translations.

The nicest way I can say this is that the translation is very half-baked. There is a lot of times where the writing and translation is good...

Then in the next immediate piece of dialogue... well, I heard machine translation was used on some parts of this game, and you can really tell in some moments because of how awkward the dialogue is.

(Not shown: the fact that Ogre from Tekken 3 is now named "Olga" according to this game's translation)

Yeah, you can tell that the translation wasn't proofread, or quality checked. Like again, I know it's a fan translation and it's a lot of work, but at the same time, I don't really think subpar work should be excused. Especially since it can be a turn off for some people.

There are also a lot of simple spelling errors sprinkled throughout the translation that could have been avoided if someone simply proofread the work. Like I know this is a game with a lot of dialogue, but this is all the more reason why proofreading it is important.

Trust me when I say these are just two examples of many. Not to mention as you get closer to the end of the game, the translation starts to get more awkward and spelling errors become more common.

If you can figure out what this means, please let me know.

But it gets worse. There are times where the translation messes up the formatting of the text. This leads to things like MOMO's dialogue being written in the victory and defeat conditions screen and... well whatever the hell is going on in the second screen here.

The worst part is that whatever the hell is happening in the second image also happens in an EXTREMELY SERIOUS SCENE where Xiaomu is attempting to tell Reiji the truth about his father's death and kills ALL TENSION because of it! Honestly, you can see why something like that is unacceptable!

For another example, this scene has dialogue that is voiced.

In this scene, Saya's voice actress, Ai Orikasa is saying something along the lines of "You really have... become a good man... Rei...ji..."'

This is what the translator team wrote it as:

Yeah it's basically another example of an extremely serious scene being ruined by the shoddy translation work on this game.

But the next thing I want to talk about is a bit more of a complaint compared to the rest of what I've discussed so far and that is the fact that the fan translation seemingly using a dart board to decide who gets to use their official English names and who uses their Japanese names.

So, for those who don't know, a lot of Capcom's character names change based on if you're in Japan or overseas. The most famous of these examples is how Rockman in Japan is known as Mega Man in the United States.

To put it simply, except for only two characters, every character in this fan translation uses their Japanese names instead of their official localized names. I'll be completely honest, I wouldn't have as much of a problem with this if they just either did all Japanese names or all localized names instead of being wishy-washy and only picking two characters to keep their localized names.

For example, in the Japanese version of Street Fighter, M. Bison is named Vega, but then instead of using Gouki, the Japanese name for Akuma, they use his English name. It's an annoying inconsistency.

For those of you who are more into Nintendo games, let me explain it like this:

This is like if someone did a fan translation of a Japan-only Mario game and they didn't bother to change Bowser's Japanese name, so he's constantly being called "Koopa" throughout the entire game. Meanwhile, Birdo is also in this game, but instead of translating her name as "Catherine" to stay consistent, her name remains as "Birdo". That would be weird, wouldn't it? Yeah, that's essentially happening here.

It also of course happens with the Darkstalkers characters because of course it does.

I do hope that they somehow release a patch or an update for this translation to fix all of these issues but I'm not holding my breath.

Anyway, I can pretty much conclude that if you can get past the subpar fan translation and you like Project X Zone, you'll probably like this game.

[asimplearchivist]

ℂℍ. 𝕀 — 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕥

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🗡 ⤏ cade yeager’s older sister never knows what she’ll find in their barn upon returning from her routine antiquing trips—the submission box at the driveway is often littered with junk of all kinds that they try to fix for a living. ⤏ you just never would have expected for him to take on the task of repairing a cybertronian. pairing 🗡 bayverse!optimus prime/yeager!reader word count 🗡 8.7k a/n 🗡⤏ i've been cleaning out my docs drafts debating on whether to upload certain unfinished works, seeing as some of them are partially complete (like this one). this was going to be a longfic that followed the events of aoe and would go on to tlk, but i lost steam for it pretty early on. there are a few more snippets that wouldn't stand well enough on their own to be posted, but i thought these three chapters would express the vibes i was attempting to convey. ⤏ this is an aoe ua where lucas didn't call the government about optimus right away, cemetery wind didn't find him immediately, and cade has an older sister by one year. the reader is ex-military and protective by nature, and not one to be trifled with - especially in regards to her family, as she would gladly sacrifice her life for theirs. she suffers from a psychosomatic limp in her right leg after sustaining a gunshot to her left shoulder while serving in afghanistan years prior. still suffering from ptsd, she's turned to exercise and bodybuilding as an outlet. she spends her time and makes money restoring antiques and furniture and occasionally collaborating with cade on his robotics. ⤏ this is kind of silly looking back on it (also not as well written, seeing as i created it back in 2017 [oh my god that was six years ago]), but i've promised myself i would try to work against my internal criticism and not cringe at something i spent a lot of time and love to make. i saw a few posts on tumblr floating around about posting old drafts and i thought i might do that with this, among others, so keep your eyes peeled for those.⤏ let me know if you see any glaring grammatical mistakes/spelling errors i missed, but more importantly, please enjoy this gem of my past! :)🗡 MASTERPOST 🗡 🗡 ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🗡

Tessa woke dreamily, a pleasantly warm haze dampening her thoughts as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Shimmering sunlight streamed in through the window, lighting up her room and causing motes of dust floating in the air to gleam like tiny flecks of gold. She stretched slowly, enjoying the feeling of tension releasing in her muscles. She smiled when she remembered that finals were over. She was free. (Until she went to college, that is. If she went to college.)

Though with the bliss of waking up to a quiet morning, she realized that it was actually quite out of place. It was suspiciously quiet. There wasn't any shouting from the landlord trying to sell the house again, or explosions coming from the barn. It was awfully peaceful, and Tessa really didn't know how to feel about it. It was only when she closed her eyes in contemplation of dozing off again that she remembered.

They had a transformer in the barn.

"Dad," she groaned, rubbing at her face and sitting up slowly.

A week had passed since Cade Yeager had unknowingly brought home a wanted, illegal alien (a literal alien, funnily enough) in an attempt to dismantle it for salable parts. But of course - of course it had to have been her dad. It couldn't have been anyone else's, because that's just what her life was: hectic and chock-full of crazy shit. So why not add housing an Autobot to the list?

She still couldn't believe her dad had managed to talk both her and Lucas down from making a call to the government about their accidental find. She didn't know how he did it - but he'd kept haggling and nagging and pushing until they'd acquiesced, and now they had a half-destroyed thirty-foot robot living in their barn.

Tessa couldn't say that she disliked Optimus, however - on the contrary, she was rather intrigued by him. He was very benevolent and soft-spoken (only did this show after their initial scare - Lucas wouldn't step close to the 'Bot for a solid two days afterward), and his voice never failed to soothe her with its otherworldly rumble. He was quiet, though, and didn't talk much - at least around her. Her dad said that he spoke with him very frequently, usually while he was repairing or constructing a makeshift part for the injured Autobot, and that entailed them being alone.

Cade had told her, the first night after he’d convinced her and Lucas not to call in the government, that he intended to let Optimus stay there for as long as he needed - until Cade could get him back into fighting shape, at the very least. It was wrong, what the government was doing to the Autobots - hunting them down like animals - and Cade sympathized greatly. Tessa admitted that she did, too, now that she knew the government wasn't actually targeting just Decepticons, but she was scared of the repercussions that it could potentially have on her family. Her father had assured her that nothing was going to happen to them, and that helping Optimus was the best thing that they could do right then. And he was already getting better info on robotics, just by looking at the 'Bot's inner mechanisms - not to mention that the Cybertronian made the continuous effort to answer any sort of question that Cade asked him. It was benefiting them already, he'd said. Tessa had sighed softly, pushing the tray of already lukewarm dinner into her father's hands before returning to the safety of their room.

Needless to say, Tessa made sure to give them both ample space. She would rather not have another missile ricochet through the house.

Tessa yawned, stood, and trudged into her bathroom, already resigning herself to cooking breakfast (again). She figured that the typical eggs and bacon would suffice - she just sincerely hoped that her dad hadn't pulled another all-nighter. Optimus had urged the stubborn human male to rest accordingly before, so maybe he'd done the same the previous night. She'd noticed that her dad was starting to get dark circles under his eyes.

After taking a soothingly hot shower and dressing for the day, she wandered downstairs and into the kitchen. It was methodical, routine, how she went about cooking the eggs and frying the bacon to her dad’s taste. Soon the savory smells were wafting from the stove, and when she heard the dull thumps of heavy, uneven footsteps descending the staircase she breathed out a sigh of relief. Cade shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes and tugging the hem of his shirt down over his stomach. His hair was mussed, his movements stiff, and Tessa lamented her lack of foresight in not setting up the coffee pot beforehand.

"Morning, Dad," she said, flipping the bacon as it sizzled and hissed up at her. He mumbled something that could have potentially been English, trudging over to the fridge to pop the door open and draw a glass bottle of soda from its depths. He twisted the cap off, tossing it haphazardly towards the trashcan tucked into the corner of the kitchen (and effectively missing it by a long shot) before sinking into the chair already pulled out from beneath the table. His head fell into his hand, his shoulders slumping as he mumbled under his breath.

He was tired.

"How late did you stay up last night?" she asked him, transferring the now crisp bacon over onto the plate already loaded with heavily salted and peppered eggs. She moved over to him, setting it down in front of him before shuffling back to grab him a fork from the drawer.

Cade, obviously still submerged in a half-catatonic state, made the mistake of plucking up a strip of bacon. He jolted up, hissing and cussing as he swiped his fingertips against his pajama pants. Tessa gave him a scolding look, handing him a fork.

Cade sighed, taking it. "Eleven...?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, cocking her hip and planting a fist above it.

He averted his gaze guiltily, looking entirely like the man-child he was. "...Maybe closer to two. Or three. Or was it three thirty...?"

"Dad," she groaned, tugging at her hair in frustration. "Nothing good is going to come out of this if you work yourself into the ground! Optimus doesn't need to be repaired in the span of four nights-"

"Tessa - honey, you don't understand!" he interjected, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from the window. "I've already been able to make three of my inventions work because of him! He's helping me build these things, and the sooner I can sell them, the sooner we can get some money rolling in."

The young blonde opened her mouth to argue further, but the genuine look in her father's eyes made her stop short. She hesitated, and he took the opportunity to stand and grasp her arms gently, drawing her into a tight, reassuring hug. She resisted but for a few seconds before sighing and giving in, wrapping her arms around him and breathing in the familiar scent of mechanical grease and sweat. Memories lingered in the back of her consciousness. This was her father, what embodied him. Comfort and grease.

How lovely.

"Tess, baby," he murmured into her hair, brushing his fingers through it slowly, "I promise this will turn out okay. Just give me a little time. Optimus is genuinely grateful for what we're doing for him, and he's trying to repay us in any way that he can." He squeezed her affectionately. "We'll get out of this soon. Everything will go back to normal."

"I sincerely doubt that," she mumbled into his shirt, though secretly she was soothed by his words. He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before they both drew away from each other. Cade returned to his seat, digging into his cooling breakfast while Tessa moved over to the coffee pot to get a fresh brew going. She knew he was going to need it, if he was going to function at all that day.

"Did Lucas get those parts you need?" Tessa asked, popping the top off of the coffee maker before grimacing. She hadn't made coffee in a week, how old were these grounds? Yuck.

"Yeah. Most of them," Cade said through a mouthful of eggs. Tessa sighed, but did not scold him. "I'll have to order some. If I can fix up that old tape recorder, I've got a buyer on Ebay. Fifty bucks."

"Hmm." Tessa tossed the old filter out, disposing the forgotten bottle cap while she was at it. She opened up the cabinet, straining on her tiptoes to reach the filters and grounds. Curse her short genes.

"Optimus says that a lot of his self-regenerating systems have kicked in now that he's out of emergency stasis-lock. Whatever that means." Cade swallowed before shoving a wad of bacon into his mouth. "But he's still looking pretty rough. I think he needs a good wash."

"But won't that make him more obvious?" she asked, filling the pot up in the sink and pouring it into the tank. "Won't the government be looking for his old paintjob? Maybe we should paint him a different color or something."

"He mentioned that he changed his vehicle mode while on the run from that ambush," he said. "Combine that with all the rust he's got, I don't think he'll be easily identifiable for a while. But, still..." He polished off the soda before sighing. "I feel bad for him. He seems to be in a lot of discomfort, and I'm pretty sure he's still in pain. He's cooped up in that barn, having to crouch or sit all the time. The guy can't even step outside for fear of satellites seeing him..."

"Maybe he can go out at night," she suggested, sympathizing greatly. Texas heat sucked sometimes, and some days in the summer you couldn't even step outside for fear of suffocating on contact. "He can stretch his legs a bit without so much fear of being seen."

Cade visibly brightened. "Good idea. I didn't think of that."

Probably because you're just running on fumes, Tessa thought wryly as she flicked on the coffee pot.

"In any case," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. She jabbed a finger at him, giving him a firm (and faintly pleading) look. "I want you in bed before midnight tonight."

Cade grinned around his fork, his eyes glittering with faint amusement. "I'll try," he said, swallowing, "but I can't make any promises."

"I'll make Optimus lock you out of the barn," she warned, knowing full well that the thirty-foot mech would most definitely agree to it. They both knew it. "Just...try, okay? Or I'll spike your dinner with melatonin, too."

Cade shuddered, cringing. "Okay, okay, chill," he said, picking up the last strip of bacon before standing with his plate and wandering over to the sink. "I'll go to sleep at midnight."

"Before midnight," she pressed.

"Before midnight," he acquiesced.

Cade washed off the plate, chewing studiously on the bacon like a tobacco addict while Tessa stepped over to the fridge and unraveled the loaf of bread. She dropped two slices into the toaster when Cade's cell phone began to ring.

He growled softly, flicking the faucet off before fumbling with his pajama pants. "It had better not be that damn..." He drew out the phone from his pocket, squinting at the name before the blood drained from his face.

Tessa's face creased in immediate concern. "What? Who is it?"

Cade's trembling thumb slid across the screen before he lifted it to his ear. "Heeyyy, sis..."

Tessa felt her blood run cold, a thrum of nervousness welling up in her stomach. Cade cast her an anxious glance before rubbing at the back of his head. "I'm fine. Tessa's fine...wait, you found a what? That's awesome!"

His enthusiasm was short-lived, as it died just as quickly as it had come when Tessa gave him a sour, pointed look. "Uh, yeah...Tessa finished up her finals. Yeah. No, I haven't finished that...you found a part for it? Nice." He fidgeted where he stood, leaning against the counter and rubbing at his mouth. "Listen, we've, uh...I made a big buy here a few days ago...no, it wasn't...okay. I, uh..." He grimaced, his teeth bared as he ran his fingers through his hair. "How long's it going to be 'til you get here?" He paused, listening intently, before the barest iota of relief relaxed the muscles in his shoulders. "Okay. This evening? Later? All right...yeah, see you then. Love you, too. Bye."

The second he lowered the phone from his ear and ended the call, he let out a prolonged, hissing curse through his teeth. Tessa worried her lower lip between her teeth, waiting for the ball to drop. Cade sank back against the cabinetry, his head hitting the upper section with a dull thunk. "We're screwed. I completely forgot about..." He shook his head slowly. "She's coming back tonight, maybe around seven. We've got to hide Optimus somehow."

Tessa stared at him incredulously. "How? He's a thirty-foot robot!" she hissed at him. "She practically lives in the barn, and that's the only place he can hide! She'll sniff him out in minutes!"

"I know that," Cade pressed, shoving the phone back into his pocket so he could scrape his hands down his face. "But she'll kill me when she finds out-"

"What, that you accidentally bought a literal illegal alien and now you’re trying to fix him?!" she cried exasperatedly. "Of course she's going to kill you!"

"We can't tell her," he insisted. "She's ex-military. Who knows how she'll react when she finds out we've got a Cybertronian in the barn."

"We can't keep it from her," she protested. "Even if we do manage to hide him at first, she'll find him eventually. She spends as much time in there as you do, if not more - which is stupid," she muttered. "And you'll have to continue repairs on him eventually."

Cade sighed resignedly, dropping his face into his hands. "At least make spaghetti for her," he mumbled, voice muffled. "The most we can do is butter her up before we tell her. I...I need at least tonight, so I can think about how I'm going to tell her."

Tessa stared at him for a long moment, but the tense silence that threatened to fall was broken by the toaster popping. At least that was one device in the house that Cade hadn't tampered with.

"Don't worry about it," Tessa told him, trying to offer some relief to his nervousness. "I'm sure once you explain everything to her, she'll understand. Like you said, he's helping out a lot with your robotics, so it's not a completely fruitless endeavor. And, once he's fixed up and leaves, we can call the government and point them in the opposite direction. That way we'll get the money but we'll throw them off his trail."

Cade looked up at her, a slow smile tugging the corners of his mouth apart. "I love you," he cooed. "You're smart like your mother."

Tessa flushed, turning to she could both pluck her toast out of the toaster and hide the smile that split her face in two.

It turned out to be a terribly hot day, as was typical of an early Texas summer. The only respite against the blazing sun was the industrial-sized fan humming near the barn door and the tin roofing reflecting most of the sun's oppressive heat. Sunlight streamed in from between the wood paneling and the opened loft window, providing enough illumination to cast dark shadows against the interior of the barn not under its direct assault. But, despite the dust and rust and grime clinging to his plating, the few unmarred spots of Optimus' armor gleamed.

Cade swiped an arm over his forehead, the beads of sweat and friction serving to wipe away at least some of the grime that had collected there. He had half the mind to take off his shirt, soaked and sticking to him in all the wrong places. He felt about as dirty as he probably looked. Even still, he doubted that Optimus would appreciate seeing a half-naked human - especially a half-naked human that was as dirty and unkempt as Cade knew he was. Or maybe the mech wouldn't care at all. Either way, he wasn't going to risk it, particularly since he was working with hot metal. He'd experienced the repercussions of that before and it had been no bueno.

Hefting the heavy-weighted hammer and setting the rounded metal casing against the molding sphere, he tapped out an angle that had been too sharp. The shift and scrape of metal on concrete almost made him flinch, but the movement in his peripheral reminded him of the barn's other occupant. Optimus was clearly uncomfortable, hunched over and grimacing every time he jostled one of the chains hanging from the ceiling or bumped against the scaffolding Cade had set up so he could reach his chassis. It had struck Cade how clearly he could read the mech's expressions - he was certainly human-like, despite the vastly differing components that made up the Cybertronian's faceplate.

"You took a hell of a hit, you know," he said, squinting at the casing with a merciless eye before wandering over to the standing cutting torch. "The missile just missed your power source."

The massive mech blinked, tilting his helm slightly, before he glanced down to the exposed internal workings within his chassis. His spark flickered erratically, casting an eerie glow against the dim shadows within the barn. "We call it a spark," he responded softly. "It contains our life force...and our memories."

Cade stilled, staring up at him in surprise. He hadn't thought... "Yeah...we call it a soul."

Optimus ex-vented slowly, his optics flicking away. He absently scratched at part of his pectoral plating, rolling his shoulders slowly. Cade inwardly winced at the metallic grating noise, trying to remember if he had some car grease. Yeah...add that to the growing list of things he was going to have to fix.

God, this guy was a mess.

Optimus grimaced suddenly, glancing down at his armor and plucking at a sizable shell casing embedded in the rusted, peeling metal. He tugged it free, staring down at it rather apathetically before flicking it away. Cade heard it bounce off the side of something somewhere to his right with a sharp cling. "Cade..." The Autobot hesitated, blinking as his optics shuttered, making the mechanic wonder if it indicated deep thought. "...why are you willing to help me?"

Cade paused, fiddling with the nozzle of the blow torch. "I guess maybe because you trust me to," he mused, leaning back as the torch roared to life and illuminated everything around him in a flaring orange glow. He quickly popped the welding mask down over his face, adjusting his grip on the round casing before bathing it in the spurting flame. Optimus watched his actions in rapt attention, seeming to absorb the human's reply.

When the metal was glowing as orange as the flames that were heating it, Cade shut off the torch and trotted back over to the ball bearing before pounding out more angles. He eyed it one last time before trotting over to the barrel of oil he'd had for years, dipping it in gingerly and being wary of the flames that flared and licked up at his hands. He then doused it in the barrel of water he'd set up next to it, turning his face away from the steam that hissed and shot up into the air. When he lifted the mask again to admire his handiwork, Optimus leaned over slightly as though to look at it, too.

"It look okay?" Cade asked while popping the mask back up onto his head, turning and walking up to the massive 'Bot so he could inspect it. The Prime nodded and reached out with an open servo, taking the casing before slowly and carefully fitting it around the flickering blue light within the depths of his chassis. He let out a heavy gush of hot air that ruffled Cade's oily hair, not quite a sigh of what must've been relief but probably the closest thing he could come to it.

"Thank you, Cade," he murmured sincerely. His shoulders slumped as though he finally had the chance to relax. Cade supposed he would, too, had the physical manifestation of his soul been so exposed for so long - and around strangers, no less.

Around strangers who were the same species as those who had made him wary of them in the first place.

"Hey, Optimus," Cade began tentatively, drawing out his syllables as he tried to conjure up the right words to inform the Autobot of their growing predicament. He didn't really know how he was going to react. "I've...got some good news and some bad news."

This seemed to set the mech on his guard, as his shoulders drew up again subtly with a tenseness that Cade suddenly regretted inciting in him. His optics shuttered, narrowed, and focused wholly on Cade, quiet and waiting. Of course, the moment he'd finally had a chance to relax, Cade had to go and ruin it.

The inventor sighed, pulling the mask from his head and rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "Good news is my sister is coming back." He looked back up to Optimus. "The bad news is that my sister's coming back."

Optimus shifted restlessly, optics flickering rapidly between extreme dimness and flaring brightness. "Is she one that could pose potential danger?"

"Not really - at least, I don't think so," Cade added hurriedly. "I just...I don't know how she's going to react to...this." He gestured towards Optimus vaguely, for lack of a better word. Or any word, for that matter. "She's ex-military, and I know you guys worked with them for a long time. I don't think she ever worked with the Autobots, though, since she was discharged before the first attack in Qatar, but..."

Optimus stilled, tilting his helm slightly. "Do you wish me to tell her the circumstances of how I arrived here?"

"No - no, it's fine," Cade responded, "I can handle it. I've just...I've been trying to figure out how to tell her."

"Tell her the truth," Optimus said simply, gently. "That is was an accident. It was most definitely not your fault." He paused. "If she should wish me to leave, then I will be on my way. I do not wish to cause dissonance within your family."

It's a bit late for that, he thought wryly, but didn't voice it. "Optimus, we've been through this - I want to help you. I want to help you get back on your feet, if nothing else - it's just not fair how these guys are chasing you around like you're some wild dog." He frowned, anger beginning to simmer low in his gut. "I think she'll understand."

...At least, I hope she will.

Dear God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, it was good to be home.

You pulled off of the interstate onto the highway branching off and directing you closer to your destination. You hummed softly along with the radio playing just over the rumble of your tires rolling over the pavement. Your arm was probably well sunburned by this point, having laid across the open windowsill for five days straight. The wind tugged at your tightly-bound hair, warm and dry as the sun brushed the edge of the horizon. The scent of flat, grassy plains - the scent of home - had you finally, finally relaxed after your trip.

Finding fixer-uppers for Cade and yourself to restore proved to be something you'd long ago gotten into the habit of doing - every three weeks you'd pack up your truck and trailer and drive around your proud home state in search of potential quarry. Scholarship opportunities for Tessa, as well as acceptable colleges, had recently been added to your list. None particularly met your standard, but...it was your niece in question, and you had always been protective of Tessa. Perhaps more so than Cade, in your mind. Maybe it was a Yeager trait.

You breathed out a sigh as you slipped your sunglasses off the top of your head and over your eyes. The sunset was certainly a sight - vivid oranges and reds melting together like a forge, blazing just as hot. You couldn't wait to take a long, hot shower and sleep in your own bed - cheap inns and motels be damned to the seventh circle of Dante's hell, honestly.

Paris, Texas welcomed you soon enough. There were a few people lingering in the streets or stores, but it was quiet for the most part. You waved towards a few acquaintances as you drove by, feeling relieved excitement bubbling up in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to home. You couldn't wait to work with Cade on some of the things you'd found in your brief travel. You'd even bought a couple of things for Tessa that you could freshen up and give her for her college dorm as a going-away present.

God, you were going to miss her. But...it would be nice to have the house to Cade and yourself again. Just like the good old days.

A flush of warm contentment washed over you when you pulled onto the familiar old farm road, dust swelling up from your tires and rising up in a thick cloud behind your trailer. You slowed down as you approached the rickety old mailbox and the metal crate welded beneath it, turning in slowly. You stopped when you saw that the electrical lines were crossed.

Oh, boy...maybe you shouldn't have gone on this last trip.

It seemed that your arrival was well anticipated. The robotic mut you and Cade had built what seemed to be forever ago was already whirling around in circles, yapping on and on about voice recognition and dialing nine-one-one. You could've sworn you'd fixed that. Cade was standing on the front porch, arms folded over his chest and fingers drumming against his arm.

He was nervous. What the hell did he do this time?

Parking and disengaging the engine, you grabbed your duffel and purse out of the passenger's seat before sliding out of the truck. Cade stepped down from the porch to take them, to which you waved him off and instead pulled him into a tight hug. The strong, familiar scent of motor oil and grease filled your nose. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he said, arms resting on your back. He rested his cheek against the crown of your head, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Drive back was okay?"

"Yeah. Didn't shoot anyone."

"Always a good thing." He pulled back, grinning and grasping your arms gently. "Tessa made spaghetti."

Your hunger, now making itself apparent in the way your stomach twisted and growled irritably, predominated your rising suspicion. "Praise God. I've had enough McDonald's to last me three lifetimes."

Your brother's warm laugh, more relaxed than his tense body language had been moments before, followed you into the house as you both went inside. The hearty smell of the Yeager family spaghetti sauce filled your nostrils and your mouth watered immediately, the tension draining from your limbs as you cast a glance back at Cade. "Let me go put this up real quick," you told him, trotting up the stairs. You heard him acknowledge you with a grunt as he turned into the kitchen.

The upper floor was dark and quiet, and it allowed you to breathe in the scent of home as you made a beeline for your room. You entered, tossing both bags onto your bed and making a flying trip to the bathroom to relieve yourself. You made quick work of washing your hands, simply wiping off the warm water on your jeans as you descended the stairs. You heard Cade's voice before you got to the doorway leading to the kitchen, the urgent, low tones initially obscuring Tessa's lighter whispers. Your suspicion returned, but you couldn't make out what they were saying because of the music playing softly from the radio.

You really hoped they hadn't broken something they shouldn't have. Didn't matter if it was a law or piece of equipment - if Lucas had been messing with your punching bag again, you'd be wringing his skinny little neck soon enough.

You made a show of yawning, stretching your arms over your head as you clomped around the corner. Cade turned to you, holding a pitcher of tea in one hand and a glass of ice in the other.

"I'm assuming you wanted tea," he said.

"Yeah, that's fine," you said, taking the glass after he filled it and sitting at the table. Tessa was distributing spaghetti on three different plates, as well as corn and salad. She set it in front of you with a swift one-armed hug around your shoulders, which you readily returned. "Heard about your finals. Good job, kiddo."

"Thanks!" she said, smiling and practically oozing pride in light of your praise. She meandered over to the oven, popping it open and grabbing an oven mitt to draw out a tray of garlic bread. "Want one?"

"Yes, please," you breathed, plucking one from the tray when she proffered it to you before dropping it on the edge of your plate to save your fingertips from the hot sting.

Cade plopped down in the seat across from you, reclining back and exhaling deeply. He rubbed at the dark circles beneath his eyes. You squinted at him, about to ask if he had been staying up late again, when Tessa, too, sat to your left.

"Pray?" she said, glancing between the two of you. You nodded, and all three of you bowed your heads so you could utter a brief prayer of thanks. Afterwards, you scooped a generous forkful of spaghetti into your mouth, practically melting in your chair as the warmth and flavor blossomed over your tongue.

"Oh my god, Tessa, never change," you told her firmly after swallowing. She flushed, hiding her smile behind her glass as she sipped lightly.

"How was the trip?" Cade asked, tearing the slice of garlic bread apart and stuffing a chunk past his lips.

"Good, for the most part," you said, reaching for the salad dressing to drizzle it over the chopped lettuce and tomatoes. "Got a few things that I can fix up pretty quick. Joe Anderson's been nagging me for a table for three months now. I think it's Amy's birthday soon and he's looking for something to give her."

Cade breathed out a sigh of relief. "I've almost got a couple of doohickeys fixed. Got a couple of buyers on Ebay. I think I'll be able to pay the electric bill with them."

You looked up at him, your chewing slowing to a stop. "Is that why we're borrowing the neighbor's electricity?"

Both Cade and Tessa stilled, exchanging a hesitant glance. The nervousness in the air was palpable.

"Is that what's going on?" you asked, voice simultaneously firm yet gentle. "You've been acting weird. Were you not wanting to tell me?"

You didn't miss the very pointed look that Tessa directed at her father.

"I thought I shouldn't have gone on this trip," you muttered. "I'll try to get that table done tomorrow. The sooner we can pay it, the better."

Cade shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing at his neck anxiously. "That's...not what I wanted to tell you."

You raised a brow. "Is it about that 'big buy' you made?"

"I...yes," he replied hesitantly. "It's a truck."

You blinked. "A truck."

"Yes - an old truck. A semi. A cabover. I was planning on dismantling the engine for parts to sell."

"Planning on it?" you asked curiously.

"Yeah. I...ran into some...trouble with it." He straightened, fiddled with his fork. "You'll have to see it for yourself."

"If all you needed was help on it, all you had to do was ask," you told him gently. "But we'll start on that in the morning. I'm tired. You look tired - have you been staying up late again?"

He flushed, opened his mouth perhaps to protest, but Tessa interjected with a flat expression and a strong nod.

"Sleep," you pressed firmly, "and we'll tackle it when we're both fresh. Comprende?"

"Sí," he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

"Good." You smiled, half affectionate and half exasperated. "I'll cuddle you aggressively if you don't."

"Resistance is futile," Tessa chimed in, spearing a chunk of lettuce with her fork.

You reached over and squeezed her arm with a grin, directing it at Cade. He finally met your eyes, and after a long moment he returned it, looking as tired as you'd ever seen him.

You had once been a very deep sleeper. When you were younger, back when Cade was smaller than you, he always thought something was wrong whenever he would get up in the mornings and fail to rouse you unless he were to practically scream in your ear. You slept through thunderstorms and fireworks alike, never once stirring from your oft dreamless slumber. Very rarely did you dream, even rarer did you suffer from nightmares.

Unfortunately, that was a long time ago.

After graduating from high school and enlisting your services in the marine corps, you'd quickly learned that sleeping deeply was not an asset useful to a soldier. Countless times of interrupted rest trained you to be instantly alert at the slightest of noises or potential dangers. It had served you well, the night your base in Iraq had been attacked - you'd heard the distant rumble of non-American military engines across the way and you'd saved your troop by waking and warning them just in time to escape your bunker before it was incinerated into smoke and ash.

The ambush had been long and violent. They'd come in under cover of the dunes on the far east side, near a mountain range, and had wreaked havoc on the base, killing many and injuring more. Snipers, unfortunately, were present - when you'd gone to rescue your superior officer from a burning quonset, one had nearly managed to blow your left arm out of its socket. It was only by God's grace that your squadron's medic had gotten to you in time to staunch the bleeding. Your arm barely survived, and as a result of some psychological bullshit, you now had a rather inconvenient limp in the opposite leg. Unnoticeable to you (and your family) now that you've all gotten accustomed to it and have dealt with it long enough that it wasn't as bad as it used to be. Only if you had one of your spells did it act up again.

And by 'spell', it obviously meant a full-blown anxiety attack courtesy of your PTSD, which used to be triggered by anything ranging from the sound of someone dropping a pen to having night terrors. The night terrors, in themselves, were not particularly bad - you'd gotten used to the images of blood spattered across the sand and the sounds of screams and explosions ringing in your ears, echoing over the rivulets of time and memory. No, it was the aftereffects that you hated; waking in a cold sweat, trembling all over, nausea and lightheadedness threatening to send you over the side of your bed. Over the years, however, you'd gradually recovered - returning home after being medically discharged and falling back into a semi-normal, tamer routine certainly helped. The night terrors and your spells grew fewer and farther between as the years drew on. Having Cade and Tessa as a support system helped majorly, as well.

But, as is the case with everything, there were always exceptions. Sometimes, out of nowhere, you would dream of the ambush - crying out in your sleep as a result and never failing to draw Cade into your bed to wrap you up in a tight, warm embrace. His presence, the sound of his heartbeat and his gentle murmurings and reassurances helped to calm you down, but it still frustrated you every time that it would happen. You thought you were getting better. You thought that you'd forgotten the terror and the pain. But revisitations of it were inevitable.

Tonight, it would seem, would be one of those nights.

The air was cold. The sand was cold. Your heart, heavy and lodged in your throat, was thumping painfully as you crouched low and wide-eyed in a grenade-blown pit, avoiding crossfire and the sight of the enemy. You were trembling, deep and wholesome panic thrumming through your entire body as you tried to think, tried to comprehend what was happening, tried to articulate what you needed to do. A distant murmur of sentimentality in the back of your mind told you that you should go back to your bunker, try to salvage what few belongings you were permitted to have. Shock and the ingrained soldier's sense would not let you.

Gun. You needed your gun. You needed your gun so you could fire back, save others, protect your squadron. Where was it?

In the smoldering remains of your bunker, along with everything else you'd owned.

Another grenade clattered against the smoldering side of the communications center, falling dangerously close to an armored Jeep and rocking it on its wheels with its concussive explosion. You winced, shied away from the flash of fire and shrapnel, and looked wildly, desperately around for an ally, someone you knew, someone you trusted.

"Yeager!"

Your head shot up, eyes focusing in on the medical facility. The chief medic was hunched in the doorway, clutching an IV bag in one hand and its partnering needle in the other as he stared straight at you.

"Merendsen!" he shouted. "Merendsen's trapped in his bunker!"

Now given an order, a purpose, your mind locked onto it with renewed determination. However, when you told your body to move, it did not budge. You shook and shivered, but your limbs would not accept the commands given to them. You heard an unintelligible shout from another point in the camp, closer to the medicinal facility, and the chief medic looked back to you with furrowed brows. "They're readying a mortar! We've got to evacuate!"

To this day, you still don't recall ever getting up. All you remember is no longer laying in the sand, only running headlong through the crossfire and explosions and yelling towards the bunker where your commanding officer dwelled. The building was half collapsed, crackling and hissing with flames that licked against the shadows of light. You stumbled to your knees, digging at the crumbling and charred cement and hoping you wouldn't get hit. You gasped and cursed when you scorched your hand, but you were rewarded when you heard a groan amidst the rubble.

"Sir!" you gasped, trying to find the location of the sound. "Merendsen! Captain Merendsen!"

"Yeager...?" he rasped, and grunted when you shifted a rather large chunk of rock.

"Help me, sir," you panted. "I can't get you out by myself."

He groaned, though whether through pain or delirium you didn't know. You saw his bloodied, swelling fingers poke out from between a gap in the debris. Several painstaking and anxiety-riddled moments slid by, and as soon as his shoulders were visible you grappled for him and tugged him free of the debris. He choked out a curse, blood dripping from his head and hands as you dragged him onto the sand.

"We - we need to evac," he wheezed, glazed eyes taking in the decimation that was once home camp.

"We're working on it, sir," you managed, using a sizable chunk of concrete for cover as you tried to plot the best route to the medical facility. There was heavy fire being exchanged through the main route, several of your comrades hollering and bleeding while trying to hurl back as much as was being given to them. None noticed your predicament.

The medical facility. If you could get him there, he'd be safe until everyone got organized. It was the most well-protected place in camp (or what used to be the camp).

"Can you walk?" you hollered above the blast of fire swelling around a Jeep that had been turned over on the edge of camp.

"I'm fine!" he shouted back, gritting his teeth and trying to get his legs beneath him. His pupils were blown. He had a concussion. "Let's move! We need to get out of here!"

You hauled his arm around your neck, drawing his weight into your side and hefting both yourself and him to your feet. You huffed and strained beneath the extra weight, eyes stinging as sweat and dirt and smoke blurred your vision.

It was painstaking, bobbing and weaving through debris and smoke for cover. Your comrades made way for you, giving you cover-fire when crossing areas where you were plainly visible. Your commanding officer was grunting and cursing due to pain, trying his best to support his weight despite the fact that his leg was bent at a rather unnatural angle.

You rounded the corner, spotting the welcoming entryway to the medical bunker, and somewhere in the back of your conscious mind you recognized it - recognized this moment - and began to dread despite not being able to change the events of the past. All you registered was the distant flicker of red right before Merendsen was hollering in your ear. Your mind and focus clicked into place in that instant - sniper. Deeply ingrained instinct kicked in and you threw your weight to the side, shoving your captain into the sand as pain unfathomable exploded in your uncovered shoulder.

The next thing you knew was Merenden's face over yours, mouth moving but no sound coming forth. You realized you couldn't hear - not just him, but everything else. Your ears were ringing, body cold and frozen. Your heartbeat, hot and painful, throbbed in your shoulder (or, in retrospect, what was left of it).

Turning your head in an attempt to gain your bearings, you saw the sickening color of scarlet staining the sand beneath you, splattered over Merendsen's pinched face as he hunched over you protectively. He dug his palms into your shoulder, eliciting a weak, breathless gasp as pain bloomed across the forefront of your psyche. You felt the squish of blood against your torn and rent flesh. Your vision flickered, the dark draw of unconsciousness tugging at the edges of your consciousness. You were suddenly tired. Tired, and dazed, and hurting.

"...eager! Yeager! Stay with me, soldier! Don't you dare give up on your family!"

You blinked slowly, eyes listlessly returning to Merendsen's. His face was twisted into a pained, worried grimace.

"You've got a niece to go home to!" he shouted above the din, and you vaguely recognized the shift of sand as someone else skidded to a stop beside your head. The chief medic's face, illuminated by fire, swam on the side of your vision as though submerged in water. "Your brother needs you! Your family needs you!" Merendsen lifted his hands away from your shoulder so the medic could replace them, and your captain moved to grip your limp, trembling hand with his own. "Don't let go, soldier - that's an order!"

You remembered smiling, thanking him with a broken and soft and terrified voice. Then you remembered no more.

You remembered the pain, and its clawed grip upon your rapidly fluttering heart, and that was the first thing you felt when you jolted awake - except for the fact that there was no pain, and no slick, stickiness of blood soaking your shoulder and the cold sand beneath it. Your heart was still beating, though, thumping in your temples and throat and making quite the impression of itself on the inside of your chest cavity.

You blinked and sat up slowly, sucking in several lungfuls of cool, clear air. Your brain began to reboot slowly, gradually swimming out of the dark depths it had submersed itself in. You exhaled shakily, your hand going to your left shoulder. A pang of remembered agony tingled through the damaged nerve endings. Damn phantom pains.

Several tense, quiet moments passed. You breathed, focused on your heartbeat, closed your eyes against the vestiges of fear and shock. Your heart calmed, your body stopped trembling. You brushed your dampened hair away from your neck and grimaced as you registered the sweat clinging to your skin. Your eyes settled on the band of moonlight shining through your opened window, allowing the pleasant night air passage. A cursory glance towards your alarm clock assured you that yes, it was far too early to be awake.

4:21. Great.

Your eyes adjusted slowly, and you frowned when you saw your bedroom door still secured tightly shut, realizing your brother's warm presence wasn't currently wrapped around yours.

Cade hadn't come. He always came. He always knew. Where was he?

The distant clatter of metal against wood caused you to freeze. Your senses focused in on the sound, ears straining to hear anything else. Instead, dead silence settled over the outside world once more.

Your hand slipped silently under your pillow, the familiar bite of cold metal a comfortable weight in your hand as you settled your fingers around the grip and drew it out into open air. Your pistol gleamed in the moonlight as you slid your legs off the bed and slowly eased your weight into your feet. The floor did not creak nor groan as you crept to your window, peering around the edge to scrutinize the yard below.

No signs of life, nor disturbances. All was quiet.

Your eyes narrowed, and you made your way into the hall to check on your brood. Tessa was asleep beneath her sheets, hair strewn out over the pillow beneath her head. You closed the door silently. Cade, too, was in bed (thankfully), snoring and sprawled out over his mattress. He was deeply under, you could tell - how much had he been working before you'd returned?

Assured that they were safe, you padded down the stairs and made your way to the back door, grabbing a flashlight on your way by and stealing outside without a sound. You kept to the shadows, prowling towards the barn warily. Though every fiber in your body was tensed and focused on making your approach undetectable, your mind was buzzing. Who would be in your barn at this time of the night? Your first thought went to some wayward teenager or young adult looking for a quick buck, but you found that unlikely given you hadn’t heard a vehicle approach. A glance to the field and road beyond your home also proved that fact, as there was not a vehicle in sight. It could've been a raccoon, but you found that unlikely. Maybe something had just fallen over?

Nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt to check. You just really hoped that you wouldn't have to use your gun. You really weren't in the mood to shoot anybody.

Circling around to the back of the barn where the larger door rested, you readjusted your grip on your gun and tucked it behind the barn’s door handle. You braced yourself, taking a steadying breath. In one smooth motion you clicked on your flashlight and raised it level with your head, throwing the massive but relatively light door open before raising your gun to the immediate darkness within. "Whoever the hell you are, raise your hands - and don't make a mistake you'll regret, because I will shoot you!"

Two wide, startled, glowing blue eyes blinked down at you from inside the depths of the barn.

Shocked out of words for a split second, you froze. Then, "What the actual f-"

You had only a moment to register that the eyes belonged to a gargantuan, alien frame. It seemed that it, too, had been stunned by the mutual shock of discovering the other, but not for a moment longer. In that same instant, the gargantuan, alien frame lunged for you.

Screw not being in the mood to shoot somebody.

You raised your pistol and your finger twitched over the trigger, but the unknown figure was faster. A massive hand swiped out at you from the shadows, knocking both the gun from your grip and your entire body off of your own feet. The breath gushed out of you as you made harsh contact with the ground, the jolt stunning and dazing you. You scrabbled for purchase on the dewy grass beneath you as the figure leapt to loom over you, blocking a huge portion of the sky and casting a dark shadow over you. That same massive hand slammed down into the soft soil next to your head, fingers groping for your comparatively tiny body. You rolled away, stuttering out a curse as your hand found purchase on something cold and metal and heavy enough to be used as a weapon. Without thinking (not that you had the capacity, with your mind scattered and adrenaline coursing through your limbs), you found the creature's glowing, narrowed eyes in the dark and chucked the object at its crested head.

The clang of metal meeting metal rang out with the brief flash of sparks right before it was drowned out by a deafening bellow of pain. A disk-like shape fell from the creature's head and you had naught but a second to again roll to safety before it sank into the ground like a blade while your flashlight clattered a few feet away from you, light flickering across the ground. Green fluid spurted freely from the figure's cracked skull, but you were distantly confused to see electrical sparks shooting from the open wound.

Cade's shocked outcry of your name snapped you back into focus. Your head whirled to see him jumping from the front porch, sprinting straight for you and your still growling attacker. The ground shook beneath you and you were startled to hear the unknown figure (danger threat protect) garble out a roughened, pained version of your brother's name before its massive hand made another move to grab you.

"Optimus, no, don't-!"

"Cade, stay back - this human has a gun!"

"What the hell?!" you cried, staggering to your feet and away from the - holy shit, was it-?

Was it a transformer?

"Cade, get back!" you shouted, your eyes now finding the metallic sheen gleaming off the figure's silhouette. "Get back, get the shotgun!"

"Wait, just - wait a second!" Cade sounded panicked, worried, though you realized with terror he was running for the transformer and not you. "Optimus, wait!"

'Optimus'? Why did that...

The gargantuan figure froze as the human male stopped between it and you, waving his arms frantically and looking as pale as a sheet in the moonlight. "Please, just hang on a second!" He glanced wildly between the both of you, eyes pleading. "Let me explain!"

Both you and the transformer stilled, chests heaving and eyes looking from Cade to the other with suspicion and wariness.

"This is your sister?" the robotic alien rumbled, taking you off guard. It eased onto its haunches, sitting up and allowing the moonlight to illuminate its figure. Rust and peeling paint caught your eye, dust and grime obscuring much of what must've once been shiny metal. Its face was twisted, mouth pinched as it turned its glowing gaze to you. You realized that the disk that had fallen from its head was one of two ear-like arrays with sensor finials. The open wound(?) was still dribbling that same green substance. Blood?

"Yes, Optimus, this-" Cade exhaled heavily, hands and voice shaking with relief as you both stood down. He looked to you, guilt and apprehension forming in his eyes as he gestured towards the mechanical being behind him. "I..."

A short silence settled upon the three of you, tense and anxious. After a beat, you sighed and glanced up at the transformer, leveling it with a pointedly non-aggressive look. You saw the stiffness in its metal-plated shoulders relax minutely, then looked back to Cade only when you were sure the unspoken ceasefire was cemented.

"So..." you deadpanned, a wry, weary quirk forming at the edge of your mouth as you rubbed your sore cranium. "...who put him in your basket?"

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

In Hiding Part 2/?

Hey Buds! It’s me, Cay! This is part 2 of the Hiding Away series. I’m not super proud of it, but part 3 will be better. This was more or less a filler chapter, however, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always greatly appreciated, and my requests are still open! Please, please, PLEASE send In prompts lol. (P.S. please excuse and spelling/grammar errors and typos, I had a migraine while writing this.)

Part one: https://imjustalurker12.tumblr.com/post/646379452336586752/in-hiding

Word count: 1000ish

Warnings: Talk of blood and needles, Non-graphic violence, no swearing in this one, a very bad cliffhanger

You were drifting in and out of consciousness, a bright light obscuring your view. You attempted to bring your arm up to shield your eyes from the blinding white light; however, you couldn’t move your arms. Your throat was sore so that you couldn't tell out. Your eyes still weren't fully adjusted to the light, so you couldn't see what was going on.

The only thing you knew is that you were lying on a hard surface supine, and you couldn't shift.

After a few more seconds of squinting, you lifted your head. You were strapped to a table by glowing blue cuffs. They must have something to do with the fact that you couldn't shift.

You had also been changed out of your clothes, blue scrubs in their place. An IV was in your right arm, and wires were coming from your chest, and you could also hear a constant beeping echoing throughout the room.

You began to squirm to remove yourself from the cuffs, but your actions were quickly noticed by a man in a lab coat staring at you from across the room. You recognized this man to be none other than Dr. Bruce Banner.

He looked up to you and smiled.

“Good morning, or should I say good afternoon (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! You slept for almost 12 hours! The Avengers really knocked you out, huh?”

You grimaced. That's right; the Avengers had caught you. It would seem that your “low profile jobs” weren't so low profile after all.

“Y’know, ” Bruce said, walking over to you, “you're a pretty hard person to find? (Y/N)” His brow furrowed. “Now, I need to take some blood.”

Needles really weren’t your thing, especially the long one Banner now held in his hands. You growled low; your powers were begging to come back and began squirming around. He rolled his eyes.

“Stop moving; it'll hurt less.” He mumbled.

Not convinced, you shifted uncontrollably. He tried to grab your arm, but his strength was no match for yours, which was slowly returning.

“Loki! Come do that magic thing!” Bruce yelled over his shoulder.

Loki then entered the lab, looked at you, and snarled.

“You're seriously not giving up? Stupid Midgaurdian child.” He hissed

He grabbed your arm, and you suddenly went limp.

“Thanks.” Banner said to Loki.

In return, Loki rolled his eyes and left the lab.

Inserting the needle into your arm, Banner sighed, “This would be easier for both of us if you stopped resisting.”

You clicked your tongue and grimaced. “Hmph.”

He sighed and walked away, leaving to examine your blood sample. He looked into the microscope and gasped. He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

“Stark, you need to get down here. Their blood- I've never seen anything like it. Her cells- just come down here.” He says into the receiver, pivoting his chair to look at your limp body once more.

Little did he know, you were beginning to gain your powers back. Loki's magic couldn't keep them at bay forever.

Five minutes later, you heard “BANNER!” being yelled at by Tony from the lab's entrance. “I’M HERE!”

You growled lowly, a sign of your powers becoming even stronger. You may be able to shift again within 5 minutes. You needed to plan your escape.

While Tony and Bruce babbled on, you began mapping the room. Practically the whole room was made out of glass, and it looked out onto the common room of the Avengers compound. You smiled to yourself, as it would be straightforward to bust out.

“What’re you smiling at, oh mighty blue one?” Stark taunted.

You turned back to him and narrowed your eyes in annoyance.

“My bad, kid!” He stuck his hands up in defense.

You went back to daydreaming about your escape, taking note of the woods surrounding the compound. After turning into an iron man suit, you’d break the glass and-

“Seriously, you’re grinning again.” Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud Tony Stark.

You turned to him and rolled your eyes.

“Does she not speak?” Tony asked Bruce, turning away from you.

“I haven't heard her yet; it’s not important.” Bruce sighs, still focused on your blood sample. “(Y/N), I need a piece of your hair.”

He walked over to you, and you grimaced when he tugged at a strand. He walked back to his microscope, placing the strand into a glass plate.

After a minute of staring at the strand, he whispered, “The blue, it’s natural!”

Duh, it was natural. All of the hair on your body was blue, and you can’t dye eyelashes. You gave an exasperated sigh and turned your head back to the windows, resuming the formulation of your plan. After you'd bust out, you'd shift into a-

“I'm sorry, is there something you need to say?” Asked an annoyed Tony.

You shook your head and returned to your thoughts as a reply. Tony wasn't satisfied.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace, princess.” He smirked, stepping towards you.

He was getting too close, and your powers still weren't fully replenished, but it was time to go. You grinned and flashed a pair of fangs before shifting into a wolf and out of your cuffs.

A startled Tony summoned his suit to overpower you, but you had already predicted such. You shifted into your suit and blasted the glass. It shattered immediately, and you flew out.

Once you reached the outdoors, you shifted into a cheetah, running far away from the compound. When you hit the woods, you morphed into a tree squirrel. There was no way they'd find you now, you thought. And maybe they wouldn't; read Part 3 to find out what happens next!

Tag list: @ooopsidaisy @moonbaejpeg @kinny-away @screechingshepherddeputygoth

@coollemonsaresour

Thanks for reading to then end! Please tell me if you want a part 3, I’m hoping it’s better than this one lol. Also I have school for a few days, so I may be a little longer when writing next parts and requests.

[fillingthescrapbook]

Rewriting The CW's Kung Fu, Part 9: Reflections and Moving Forward

And we have reached the end of our Kung Fu journey. If you haven't seen where we began, here's a handy guide to the previous posts:

Part 1: The Characters

Part 2: The Pilot

Part 3: The Mythology

Part 4: The Story Map

Part 5: Act I

Part 6: Act II

Part 7: Act III

Part 8: The Finale

Before I start with the lessons I learned and my other reflections, I want to thank @flailingbloo for all of her help and support in this endeavor. Without her to talk to and commiserate with, I would probably have gotten stuck in Act II forever and everything I've written would've been riddled with spelling errors and grammatical mistakes. So my eternal gratitude to flailingbloo. And now, we begin:

Lessons.

Going into this writing exercise, I already knew it was going to be hard. Writing stories is time-consuming, it's nerve-wracking, and it takes a lot of research...and patience. Writing, especially for television, is also not a solitary task. I mean, sure, the writing itself needs to be done alone--but everything that comes before, during, and after the writing needs input from so many people.

Although I have a lot (and I mean A LOT) of complaints about how The CW's Kung Fu was handled and written, I do have a lot of respect for the work that the writers put into their scripts. And I do appreciate all that they have done to have a show like this produced.

Doing this rewrite, I learned that it's really important to make the main character likeable. Like, every episode I broke down, I had to ask myself: is Nicky likeable here? Is she someone who viewers would want to root for? Like, for me she is, but only people who read what I wrote can say for sure. My perspective is now a bit skewered because I have bias.

Second, story maps are very helpful. There were times, especially during Part 6 (where I wrote breakdowns for Episodes 6 to 9) where I kept getting road-blocked by where I want the story to go. So I went back to the story map over and over again, to remind myself--where does the story itself need to go? How do I help the characters get to the point where they're ready for what needs to happen? (This is also where flailingbloo helped the most for me. Like, she really reminded me why I was doing this rewrite in the first place. Because I care about Nicky and the show. I wouldn't have funneled so much of my time and effort into this if I didn't.)

Another thing I learned, or rather re-learned, is the art of letting go. I created the character of Stanley to recur throughout the series as a reminder of who Nicky was and who she is becoming. And then I finished writing the first act without even mentioning him. By the second act, I was ready to use him finally--but, after multiple false starts, I realized Stanley was one of the reasons why I was having a hard time pushing Nicky's story forward. Because I kept trying to go back to the past. So I decided in the writing of the second act to shelve Stanley completely, only to find him popping up in the second to last episode in a, at least I hope, more organic way.

The last thing I learned in this exercise was that, whenever a new character needs to come in, I have to look at my existing characters first to see if any one of them can fulfill the role I needed for the story. Like, creating new villains for Nicky was fun, sure--but, at the same time, I realized that there were already existing villains that could recur. Like the Triad, who played villains in two more episodes after the pilot; and Henry's martial arts class at the community center became the source of two existing storylines from the actual show.

Reflections.

Do I think what my rewrite is better than the show? To me, yes. But, again, I am very biased. That said, I am proud of how I utilized the characters that the show created and didn't really give much importance to. Dennis, when he was introduced, felt like a rich character that could provide a very different point-of-view from the Shen siblings--but he was mostly relegated to being eye-candy. And I thought I gave him more meat by making him more involved in Althea's sexual harassment storyline, while also involving him in Nicky's stories.

That said, I also realize that I wasn't able to play up Nicky and Evan's past relationship as I was writing the episodic breakdowns. I was able to give them a lot of opportunities to explore their chemistry together, as I did with Nicky and Henry, but I kind of dropped the ball as a writer on guiding those planted moments into something more significant. Granted, I only wrote breakdowns and not actual scripts. Maybe I could've explored the romance angle more with a little sprinkle of direction and dialogue.

As I went deeper into the rewrite, I do see how easy it is to fall in love with characters as you write them. It's very easy to trap yourself into wanting villains to be more well-rounded. I keep having to remind myself that I don't have to redeem everyone. Just Nicky. Which became harder and harder as I went further and further into the story.

Another thing that became difficult as I went on? Keeping the mythology from just bursting open. That's how Henry, as I wrote him, evolved into becoming the son of a guardian--just so there's a reason for him to be so invested in Nicky's quest, while also having someone who can explain things to our main character. I'm actually really proud of that evolution.

All that said, I also have to recognize that I rewrote the show with the benefit of hindsight and the lack of budget constraints. In the real show, there's a group of writers who each have their own ideas of what the show should be. (This is where a head writer--not a show runner--would come in handy, so they could reel in the story to what needs to be told.) With more writers comes more chances for inconsistencies to happen. (And this is where a script supervisor, or a writing assistant, could come in handy.) And then there's production notes and budget. Not to mention, you know, the whole pandemic that's still happening. I didn't have to think about those things while doing this rewrite.

So, again, I want to give the writers kudos to actually producing scripts. I hope they haven't lost their minds--or their will to write--just because there are people like me who nitpick at everything. That's what people who love things do. We nitpick because we care.

Moving forward.

I do plan to stick with the real show for Season 2. I hope it's planned better. I hope they get researchers (plural!) and a writing assistant to help in the writing room. I hope the writers would sit down with the cast to discuss and develop the characters more. And I really hope they hire a better fight choreographer and fight director for the second season. (Like, rehire the people who choreographed and filmed the flashback scene in... Episode 11? The one with Nicky's maternal grandmother and Pei-Ling's own mother?)

I hope that the Nicky-Henry relationship gets explored realistically, and if a potential new love interest is ordered, they get introduced in a way that isn't antagonistic. Make them more well-rounded characters too, please. Make us want to root for their success. And while I think Nicky doesn't have an iota of chemistry with Evan, I do like Evan himself as a character. So I hope they get him more involved in future storylines--as an outsider looking in, sure, but also as an honorary member of the Shen family.

With regards to the Shen family, I do hope that we get to explore their relationships and dreams more before the show drops the reveal about Mei-Xue's daughter. I want Althea to have a cohesive storyline that doesn't pause for no reason. I want Ryan to explore being Asian AND gay as a first-generation Asian-American. And give the Shen siblings some recurring friends. They don't have to be semi-regulars (unless there's a story that can be explored) but let's not keep the Shens in a bubble. It was weird in the first season. Especially for Althea whose friends only showed up for her bachelorette party and never again. Not even when she was panicking about wedding preparations, which, considering how rich Dennis's parents were? They wouldn't let Althea be in charge of anything. They would hire a Chinese wedding coordinator. And an expensive and hard-to-book one at that. They donated an entire hospital wing, for crying out loud.

I want Jin to have an actual character, and not just be the supportive dad who loves his kids very much (admittedly my own rewrite also made this same mistake). And I want Mei-Li to be consistent as a character. Like, no more surprise twists about being the descendant of a legendary warrior without proper foreshadowing and plot-planting please.

Dennis shouldn't just be eye-candy. The same applies to Kerwin. Sure, I get that shirtless men are a must in a CW series, but please give their characters some meat too. Dennis's nerd-side was never showcased in the show, and Kerwin had that poor little rich boy background that didn't get explored either. Because the show was too busy keeping him and Zhi-Lan tearing each others' clothes off--when they're not tearing other people down.

Also, don't drop the ball on the tease that Bian-Ge is now everywhere. If I understood correctly, Bian-Ge is Kung Fu's version of Qi. If yes, then I hope they treat it respectfully as a force of nature--and not just the source of magic. The flowers from Bian-Ge itself can be magical, sure, I have no problem with a fictional flower being a McGuffin.

Finally, I hope the show also explores other Asian communities and cultures. Like, Kung Fu is great--but imagine if Nicky had to face someone who is versed in Silat Melayu? Or someone who uses Arnis? Someone who practices Kalaripayattu or Lathi Khela? Or Kuntao? Imagine Nicky having to use Wing Chun against someone who uses Karate or Krav-Maga? Asia is a big continent and there are so many different types of martial arts found from the Middle East to Southeast Asia. Kung-Fu is an umbrella term, so it'll be great to see the different styles found under it.

... This went long again. Sorry about that. Funny thing is, when I started this whole rewriting plan? I thought it would take three posts, tops. And look at us now. Nine posts deep, and it seems I still haven't run out of things to say. So I'm cutting myself off before I completely wear out my welcome.

But if you've read all my Kung Fu posts, please do reach out. Let's discuss the show and what it can do to produce a better second season.

[nightmaresart]

The first meeting

Disclaimer: this was written quite some time ago but I finally have to courage to post some of my terrible writing! So please enjoy!

Also please not that this isn't proofread and might contain spelling errors since English isn't my first language, so please be considerate about that!

The drabble starts below the cut

Markus was wandering around Jericho, he had finally found it and was now looking for Lucy like Simon had told him to do. He saw many androids, some broken, some who had already shut down and some who were walking around, hoping for a better future.

Markus scanned the abandoned ship in the hope to find Lucy, but he found another android who seemed to be comforting an other who was shutting down. He made his way over, slowly as not to startle the two. Markus remained silent, listening to the black haired android.

"Its going to be okay dear" the black haired android spoke with a soft tone in his voice, holding the female android's hand, rubbing his tumb over her knuckles. "Just, close your eyes and everything will be fine. You need to rest." He continued, urging the other to close her eyes and let go. He knew there wasn't any hope left for her as there was no way they could repair the amount of damage that has been caused to her.

Markus saw how much the female android trusted the male android, as she nodded with a small smile and did what she was told. Her LED who was first a screaming bright red, slowly died down until it was completely out. She had shut down.

"Why did you lie to her?" Markus found himself asking, getting closer to the black haired android. "You knew she wasn't going to make it and you told her it was going to be okay, why?"

The black haired android let go of the hand he was still holding and turned to face Markus. "Sometimes," he began, again with such a gentle and calm tone of voice "Its better to tell a white lie that makes people feel better, then tell them the harsh truth that will only cause stress." He stood up, looking back at the female android one last time before fixing all his attention to Markus. "I knew she wasn't going to make it, she knew she wasn't going to make it." A sigh escaped him, "So making her feel better was the best I could do." He gave a small sad smile.

Markus his expression softened, he understood now. All the other wanted to do was make sure she wouldn't shut down feeling stressed. His eyes wandered from the shut down android to the blue eyes of the android standing infront of him. "Who are you?" Markus then asked, needing to know his name.

"My name is Eric, I'm an AK300 model." Eric told him, appearing to be scanning the mismatched eyed android standing infront of him. "And you're markus, you made quite the fall to get here." The smile never faded from his face.

"How did you-" Markus began to ask but he was soon cut off by Eric.

"Simon told me," Eric simply explained "He also told me you're looking for Lucy." Eric came a little closer and pointed towards a corner with a barrel which was on fire. "She is over there, I suggest going to her unless you want to lose more thirium." He patted Markus his shoulder and watched the android go.

He had a distinct feeling Markus might be the one that everyone needed. The one that would lead their people towards freedom and end their slavery. It would be alright.

[toaster-draws]

Hey everyone, I was gonna post this earlier but I didn't have the motivation to finish it. This is a Underfell story-thing I wrote and drew some drawings to go with it. I'll probably write more on here, I also have a Wattpad account if anyone is interested in that. Also, sorry for any spelling errors or whatever.

Story:

Sans got tired of how his brother Papyrus treated him, so he faked his death to see how Papyrus would react. Sans took off his jacket and placed it on the ground. He then teleported under his post. A few minutes later, Papyrus walked over to Sans' post to make sure he wasn't slacking off.  "Sans!" He yelled out. "If you're fucking sleeping I swear-" He stopped talking and just looked at the ground where his jacket was. He then started crying. Papyrus did care about him, he just wasn't good at showing it. After a few minutes however, he noticed that there wasn't any dust. He was angry about this, and started yelling again. "Sans!!" He yelled loudly. "Where the fuck are you?!" Papyrus stopped crying at this point, and was clenching his fists. Sans woke up from Papyrus' yelling and was confused on what was happening. "I know you're around here somewhere Sans!" Papyrus yelled loudly. After hearing him yelling, Sans started crying. He knew Papyrus was angry at him, but wasn't sure how to fix it. After awhile, Papyrus stopped yelling, but couldn't hear Sans crying- for some reason. 'He's probably at Grillby's. He just did this to distract me!' Papyrus thought to himself as he stomped off angrily, heading to Grillby's. After Papyrus left, Sans stopped crying. But he was still scared about how angry Papyrus sounded. Soon, he slowly fell asleep again. After Papyrus looked for Sans at Grillby's and couldn't find him, he looked his home, where Papyrus and Sans both lived. Papyrus eventually found Sans under his post asleep. 'He just fucking did all this to fucking sleep?!' Papyrus thought to himself, glaring at his brother. Instead of waking him up however, papyrus picked up Sans and his jacket and walked home. After getting home, Papyrus laid Sans down on the couch and hung up his Sans' jacket near the door. Papyrus sighed quietly, and sat on the couch near Sans, waiting for him to wake up. An hour later, Sans woke up and looked around a bit. 'What the fuck.. Why am I..-' Sans thought to himself, but stopped when he noticed Papyrus staring at him. "Er..- heya boss.." Sans said nervously as he started sweating. Papyrus glared at Sans, he was furious at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Papyrus yelled. "Did you fucking seriously try to fake you're death so you could fucking sleep?!" Sans sat up and glared at Papyrus. "Did you ever fucking think it was because of how you fucking treat me?!" Sans yelled at him. Papyrus then went silent for a few seconds then replied, "maybe I have been more harsh lately. But still Sans-" papyrus said then started yelling again. "Is that the only way you thought to tell me?!" Sans continued glaring at Papyrus. "You wouldn't have listened to me if I fucking told you!" Papyrus looked away from him. "Sorry about that, Sans.." He said while starting to fidget with his scarf. "I've just been stressed lately.." Sans sighed and hugged Papyrus. Papyrus got confused about this. "Sans what are you doing?" Papyrus asked sitting still. "Er..nothing, boss..!" Sans stuttered a bit and stopped hugging him.  "Uh-huh.." Papyrus replied, still glaring slightly. Sans got up off the couch and walked over to where Papyrus hung up his jacket. He picked up his jacket and started to put it on. "I'm going to Grillby's" Sans said as he walked out the door. "Whatever.." Papyrus replied.

_________________________________________

Drawings:

[bookwyrminspiration]

>:))))))

I'm proud that a story that I'm pretty sure you enjoy was your 3000th post!

Also have fun on the road trip! I enjoy being in cars, personally, but I do also understand the need to just move and then you get cramped in the car and suddenly the music isn't enough to keep you distracted and your Brian ahs locked you out of your internal world and you can't even just get lost in the music and you are noticing Every Sensation and Detail or Everything and you Can't Turn It Off and then you can start to actually smell the smell of the car and you start getting a headache and you can't escape it- (Sorry, I got oddly specific there, that usually doesn't happen to me when I'm in cars though!!)

I will accept these rules! It is incredibly fun to hear about a series I know nothing about, and I will accept not reading it! I only have the book because my girlfriend gave it to me because she couldn't sell it and I thought the cover was cool and didn't realise it was twilight, and you can always hold my attention. Most of the time.

Speaking of you, I have to catch up on the wings au!! I want to see Linh's wings!! But I have to read like 6 or something more chapters!! This is gonna be fun. Also more void cat.

Also that meme was of ROBERT?? Bro I always wondered who it was but it was Robby Patty?? This is a travesty /lh

Ok that's kinda dissapointing about the tame vampires. But it's still cool!! I just like the whole unholy monsterousness of Vampires and parasites. (Also off topic but the only reason why vamps couldn't see their reflections in mirrors was because mirrors used silver, and modern mirrors use aluminium or something, so vamps would be able to see their reflection. Bit of a well known fact but I just like talking about it, also it would be fun to have a book about vamps in a modern setting but it isn't the bitey romance. It's pure terror about the epidemic of Vampires and no one knowing who is and who isn't until its too late, and people finding out Very Quickly that they cannot rely on the mirrors to help them.) Also that is amazing about the inside joke but also Red eyes my beloved <3

Also I love how the author went "hmm, I wonder how to make these immortal parasites not go outside during the day. Aha! They sparkle! Genius!" (/Gen) like who wouldn't want to sparkle. I'd love to sparkle. It'd probably piss people off having to see me sparkle, but that just makes it even better.

Off topic but as I haven't read the series or watched the movies, I have absolutly no clue what it's about whatsoever (Like with kotlc I still had some baseline information from my girlfriend) so I can't ask any meaningful questions but the concept of gifts sounds really cool! Also her poor sister, should been indestructible smh my head (/J)

I have no clue what my most prominent trait is but I'm gonna say either A) My absolutly, stunning, brilliantly devine good looks, B) My curiosity and love of asking questions of people that I like even if I already know the answers, C) My forgetfulness, or D) My spelling errors

Anyway I have to go now so I'm gonna send this out but yes!! Sparkly vampires!!

-Heathen

heathen! hello! It is true that I enjoy twilight, though I don't frequently talk about it in real life (my partner is the exception to that and takes like the full brunt of my twilight infodumps so huge thanks to them for that !!). Me making that post complaining about it was mostly a joke like of all the things...why that one post. It does seem fitting through, so I'm not really upset about it.

it has now been a significant length of time since the roadtrip (almost two months) but I appreciate the well wishes nonetheless! I wasn't a roadtrip for fun reasons, but we got through it. Did a lot of sitting in a car though...

but it's so annoying when you're in the zone and time is moving fast (a good thing when it's a long drive) but then all the sudden you accidentally break yourself out of it and can't get back into it and now time is infuriatingly slow and you're just Stuck There and if you try to actively go back it only makes it harder. Definitely not fun

also I have no idea what rules I proposed! it takes me a little bit to answer asks (though I am finally starting to actually make decent progress on them!!) and also I started this one and then left it in my drafts for a hot minute, so...whoops. Hang on I can probably find the post--found it! Well, the rules are rules. I simply must talk about Twilight when it's brought up. The thing is though that it can be brought up so often...my parents asked my sister how badminton went in her P.E. class yesterday and I just sat there thinking "you know, Bella Swan is really bad at playing badminton. she hit Mike in the arm hard enough to leave a bruise and herself in the head in the same swing. it was the first time Edward ever saw hos disastrous her P.E. classes were as he watched through Mike's thoughts from across the school because she'd brought up that he'd never seen her in P.E. when they were talking about lunch." But like that's not something a normal person would probably say in a conversation and I was having one of my silent moments where for some reason I haven't figured out my brain makes me not talk at all despite being fully capable.

and excellent! it's absolutely lovely to be a complete substitute for an entire series. I mean, I think I know it pretty well at this point, so while I'm not infallible I definitely know a lot of what I'm talking about. But also feel free to read it if you want to! Just like...I highly doubt it's going to have an impact on your life or anything monumental, you'll just be able to say that you've read twilight. Then again why would you need to when I'm right here /j. Jokes aside though my partner did tell me that when they helped right a Twilight-themed (i'm forgetting the word) short play? like for drama and theater but it's small? and short? not a full play? when they helped write it they used some of the knowledge I had infodumped to them about over the years they've known me

as for the wings au--if you have caught up at this point, I hope you enjoy!! if you have not, I hope you enjoy it if you do decide to get caught up! There's a new chapter coming out this weekend and while I do have to do some finally additions to it that I am dreading, I am overall looking forward to sharing!! I may or may not have accidentally written myself into a bit of sticky situation, but I'll figure it out

yes that meme was of robert. it got quite popular within the fandom, so whenever I see it I'm always like ah yes. robert pattinson. it's the twilight tracksuit meme. there were several edits made, though my mind usually defaults to this one (linked)

same!! I don't know if you've noticed based on how I write the wings au, but I kinda like monsters to be more monstrous. there's nothing wrong with having tame vampires or anything, just a personal preference that there be something a little less human about them. though it is true that the Cullens are more civilized than any other vampires there are. they all kept their humanity when they were changed, so it may be less to do with the vampires as a whole being untamed and just the uniqueness of the cullen coven. I mean if you've read The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner (I'm assuming you haven't) you'd see that the newborns (proper newborns, not boring bella) are very much governed by instinct and an insatiable need for blood, a desire to feed. It's all they think about, practically out of their minds with bloodlust when they're thirsty.

(also I, too, love that mirror fact! It's one of my favorite little lesser known bits of vampire lore and whenever I see it reflected--pun unintended--in media it's a little haha I know something about that moment. there are moments where I'm willing to excuse the inaccuracy for the sake of humor, but othertimes it's like hmm. realistically this is not actually a problem at all because you could definitely 100% see your reflection. it would be interesting to see modern or futuristic vampire story where the reflection thing comes into play the way you suggested!!)

we can sparkle together!! I wouldn't turn donw immortality, and sparkling in the sun just seems like an added bonus. And while the decision to make vampires glitter is one that is very frequently ridiculed, I happen to find it amusing enough that I don't care. It's also a relatively minor part of the story so maybe I'm just focused on other things. I mean, yes they sparkle but also there skin is rock-hard and very cold which has more impact on the story. The sparkling is just like "oh yea we can't go out in the sun and that's why we live in Forks." But aside from that it's not really mentioned aside from when Bella marvels at it and is like "wow this guy is so beautiful" and Edward's simultaneously like "I am disgusting and hideous and monstrous." He's very angsty.

same with the gifts thing!! I always find the idea of a most prominent trait affecting a character some way fascinating, like this one thing about them that is so important it stays with them no matter what. It does make me wonder what Freaky Fred was like in his human life (he's character from short second life), as he literally repulsed everyone physically, mentally, emotionally) around him to keep himself safe. Like that is such a unique reaction and if gifts truly are a main traits carried over, Freaky Fred is of great interest to me.

not sure exactly how any of those would translate into twilight vampire gifts, but in the event you are turned into an undead creature of the night please do update me as I am very curious what your gift would be.

I hope you're doing well!! I have at least one or two more asks from you to answer, so I will get to those. This one happened to get forgotten for a little bit, but hopefully that will happen less. I have been using drafts less for this very reason, though sometimes I get interrupted and have to save it as a draft to go do something else and then I forget for an eternity. But! Either way it's nice to hear from you!!

[cyberpunkninjabunnysjn]

Pre assumption:

Right from the get go I knew it wouldn't be an easy task. Having previously made small demos in my own time. I knew that this would be harder as we are being asked to make a full game.

During:

Once again I offered an idea I had prepared in the form of a rough Game Design Document and they accepted and began adapting and giving their ideas to it.

Reason for the momentum being the key mechanic is I had speedrunners in mind. Even though we looked at the game for reference. I however mean the people that try to find the quickest route to completing a game. With combat being only a secondary mechanic.

Taking on the roles of Project Manager, Artist and Coder.

We originally each had taken a level to design and add our own little side mechanic to that specific level. I chose to switch the orientation of the character at certain points or Gravity as we called it.

We did have a test day where we showed a rough prototype of our game for people to play and attempt to break.

Test level development to show group:

However due to the unforseen pandemic. The brief has been changed to make just a prototype. We have decided to take the level we showed on our test day and develop that further for the prototype.

This is good and bad. Personally it is good as people in our group are terrible with constantly failing to communicate (even before this quarantine) with me or Luke about updates or work. Shortening the brief means I don't have to work with them as long as originally needed to. Bad because alot of assets from the people who have done work are now no longer needed and made redundant. I am however still going to include a list of assets I have done.

It has made me quite sad as I was rather fond of my boss Gr4-ty and the fight the Player would have. The mechanics in this encounter would involve the playing using platforms to avoid the enemies laser s that move around the area getting more faster as the Player reaches each threshold of the Enemies health. While the Boss would switch the Players orientation throughout hopefully resulting in the Player to think quickly or have to restart the encounter.

Concept Art of Gr4-ty and original Enemy Mobs.

While still in this pandemic I have made progress on my own with an enemy being made. The roller bot seen being kicked around in the test level now chases the player and "kills" them. To make the kill script it is just a repeat of the deathzone script but it is attached to an empty game object that is connected to the roller bot. Reason it is not a duplicate of the deathzone is because there was problems spawning in randomly and can be added to if enemies do anything specific.

I have also fixed the issues of the player being able to jump more than twice and sticking to walls. This was caused by the extra jump variable in the script being set wrong and the ground check being in the incorrect place to the player.

With the game almost done and members re appearing to help. The music and artwork is getting done. I have given access to the group journal so they can add to it. Like it should be. I did however have to move it to a different site as I would have to have given them access to my full Tumblr account.

With reaching the end of the project. I have passed on creating some sort of melee combat to another team member as they asked for something to do in hopes to redeem themselves and I have already done so much they felt it wasn't fair for me to do this to.Personally it didn't bother me but I saw they needed something to do and this is a group after all.

This person then came to me about struggling despite following two tutorials. So I agreed to try again to add combat to our game oh he would do the GDD for the group. Which worked although I'm very confused as the problem we were having was because of a spelling error but the way the error worded itself it didn't mention anything to do with the the word that was spelt wrong. It was only corrected now as I guess I had a break from it so I came back to it with fresh eyes.

But alas that was the last part of the game that needed to be done.

This last effort despite it being so short we have got so much more done with assets and code and felt more like a group even only if there was three of us, now than when this module started.

Post Mortem:

With the appalling communication with other members and the rather unfortunate circumstances that occured. This module felt unsatisfactory to the course. I would of preferred to work in a much smaller group or had the option to drop or change team members due to their attitude and seriousness towards the project. Having the option to do this I could of learnt how to function in a game development team that cared about the game they were making and possibly develop skills I already  have or learn new ones.

References:

YouTube,Blackthornpod-For majority of the code.

Bioshock series of games,2k Games

Speedrunners,Tiny Build Games and Double Dutch Games.

Sonic the hedgehog, Sega

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

Hey besties! I need your help! First off, I need some requests! Secondly, I need a name for my fan base. But moving onto the good stuff, part 3 is finished and I’m so proud of it. I’m so thankful to have such an amazing audience. Thanks to anyone that reads!!

Word count: 1150

Warnings: Talk of syringes, a few cuss words, restraining, mentions of child abuse/ neglect, and Loki being an ass. (Nothing against him, I love Loki.)

Please excuse any typos/spelling/grammatical errors I wrote this during a lecture at school :p

In Hiding, part 3/?

Parts one and two links:

You were finally out of the compound, and you were running faster than you ever had. You climbed up countless trees and jumped from branch to branch, just trying to get as far away from the compound as you could. You didn’t know where you were and had no way of finding your way back to New York City.

——————————

It’s been 3 hours of constant running. At least you think it’s been 3 hours… You’ve finally found a tree to rest in. You shift into a stick to blend in. Unfortunately, you are a blue stick, but you were too tired to care.

Slowly, you drifted off into a deep slumber

—————Avengers POV—————

“We’re not stupid; she’s got a tracker. She’s stopped about 5 miles Northeast.” Bruce announces to the team.

“So when do we get her?” Natasha wonders aloud.

“I’m thinking night; the sun sets in about 2 hours…” Steve replies.

“It’s when she’ll least expect it,” Buck adds.

“Since she’s been running nonstop for about 3 hours, she’s probably asleep. We should go now, so she doesn’t wake before nightfall.” Says Tony.

“I don’t know, Tony. She’s probably pretty tuckered out. It’ll be harder for her to attack in the dark.” Natasha counters.

“She’s a shapeshifter; the kid probably has night-vision or something.” Tony murmurs.

“He's got a point, guys,” Bruce notes.

“We’ll take a vote. Say “aye” to go now, “nay” to go at night.” Steve says. “All in favor of now?”

“Aye,” Tony.

“Aye, ” Bruce.

“Aye, ” Loki.

“Aye, ” Peter.

“Aye, ” Wanda.

“Aye, ” Vision.

“Aye, ” Thor.

“That everyone?” Steve questions. A few nods are the reply. “Ok, how about people who think we should go at night?”

“Nay, ” Natasha.

“Nay, ” Clint.

“Nay, ” Steve.

“Nay, ” Bucky.

“Ha! We're going now. You all have 3 minutes to get what you need. Meet on the Quinjet.” Tony announces.

Clint moans but turns to get his things.

“You sure we got her this time?” Bruce asks Tony, turning to him.

“Now we know what she can do. The kid’s powerful, but there's one of her and ten of us. She's also asleep; we've got the upper hand.”

“But she can-”

“We’ll be fine.”

—————Your POV—————

Flashback Dream

You were five again and back with HYDRA, tied to a chair, various syringes with God only knows what inside to your right.

You were trying to get away; you struggled against the grip of the ropes, but, to no avail, you weren't getting anywhere.

In walked three men, dressed in white lab coats. One was gruff and bald, the 2nd was taller and buff, the last man, was short and plump and cowered behind the other two.

“This is her? She's smaller than I hoped. I doubt she’ll survive.” One spoke loudly.

Not survive what? Tears began to drip down your face.

“I hate children.” Another one of them hissed before swiftly stepping forward and slapping you. “Shut up, vermin.” He seethed.

You stopped crying and whimpered.

“Weak.” The first man jeered.

“The first dose is ready, sir.” The 3rd man whispered.

“I’m excited to see what it does!” The 2nd man grabbed one of the syringes and forced it into your arm.

Almost immediately, you felt a burning sensation; white stars clouded your vision, and your entire body began to tingle, and then your eyesight was gone.

Startled awake, you found yourself face to face with Loki again.

“Hello there.” He grinned.

Frightened, you fell from your tree-top perch. You hit the ground with a thud, and were met by nine more faces, who you noted were more avengers. You were so screwed.

As fast as you could, you created clones and shifted them into the people before you.

“That’s not going to work this time!” Loki called down from the tree.

Clint hastily shot all of your clones, and you were left defenseless, but you weren’t about to give up. You tried to shift into an ant to hide, but you couldn’t turn. Damn it! They had predicted your every move. You were a goner.

You were paralyzed, not by Loki but by fear. You began to shake violently and cry. This is where it all ended.

“Uhhhhh… kid?” Tony calls out to you, lifting his mask. “You good?”

You continued to cry; you wouldn't dare speak.

“Grab her..?” Wanda suggests, pointing at you.

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” Steve steps towards you.

You attempt to wither away, but you are frozen. You continue to shake; sobs rack your body.

You're picked up bridal style by Steve and carried back to the Quinjet. You're limp in his arms and quiet, tears stain your cheeks, and your eyes are bright red.

“Finally, she stopped crying. It was annoying.” Bucky jeers.

“She, a kid! Don't be so insensitive.” Wanda retorts.

You're legs and hands are cuffed once more, and you're strapped tightly into a seat.

You've regained all of your senses, and now you're angry. Angry at yourself for letting this happen, angry at the Avengers for capturing you, especially angry at HYDRA for making you like this, and mad at your parents for selling you to evil people.

Thinking about it, you're infuriated. A spark is a newfound spark that ignites inside of you, and suddenly you're growling lowly.

Ten faces turn to you and stare. You lift your head and bear fangs. It took all of your energy to fight against Lokis's magic and shift even such a small part of yourself.

“You don’t give up, huh? Foolish.” Loki looks up at you and grins. “Oh well, all the more fun for me!” He taunts.

Your restraints are tightened, and your fangs dissolve in your mouth. Loki gets up and moves towards you.

“Giving up now, foolish girl?” He says as he grabs your jaw and jerks your face up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

In response, you narrow your eyes. The restraints tighten even more, and you're beginning to have trouble breathing.

“That's enough, Loki,” Thor yells from his seat. “Sit down.”

Loki looks up from you, rolls his eyes, but lets go of you. He looks back down to you as he's walking away, smirks, and loosens your restraints. You heave as you try to regain your breath, and the Avengers stare at you.

You're angered once more, but now you know the repercussions. You’re really fucked now.

“It’s going to be 30 more minutes!” Steve calls from the front of the jet.

30 minutes until the rest of your life is decided. Better savor them, as they may be your last. Wondering what happens next? You’ll have to read part 4, hopefully coming out tomorrow!

Thanks again for all the support, I’m so happy I get the privilege to write for such an amazing and kind audience! My requests are still open, and I really, really need people to send in requests. Thanks again, everyone! Have an amazing night/day and thanks for reading!!

Taglist:

@sweetpeaflower01 @kinny-away @mangobangi @oakiedokie @moonbaejpeg @coollemonsaresour @screechingshepherddeputygoth @cumulonimbus34