#happy contrails

[summerwages]

wing it..

[stinkbeck]

painting my aunt’s favorite flower in a soulfully hellish way just 4 her <3

[soup-mother]

for the last time they're not "government femtrails" coming off of planes, it's just regular condensation trails (you know, contrails?). you suddenly feeling like a girl is a you issue that I'm happy to help with, but you can't get into mass feminisation conspiracy theories because you're embarrassed about wanting to be a maid

[glorious-spoon]

hello!! happy tuesday!! requesting 💛 💗💜 for buddie :)

thank you!! 💛 - reunion kiss/relief

The Indiana Jones Thing [On AO3] 2.3K words | buddie | near death experience | first kiss

-

The horizon dips and sways in Buck's field of vision, salt stinging his eyes and lips. His whole world is shades of blue: the ocean around him and the cloudless sky overhead, the white sun beating down. His skin from the shoulders up feels hot and stiff with sunburn, but everything else is cold. Even in the middle of the day, the ocean is so fucking cold.

The Pacific Ocean is one of the warmest oceans in the world, second only to the Indian Ocean. He read that somewhere, but he can't remember where, or what got him on the topic in the first place. It might have been Chris, or it might have been one of his insomnia-induced late-night Wikipedia binges in those shaken weeks after the tsunami.

It doesn't feel warm. Not right now. His clothes cling damply to him—t-shirt, uniform pants, his boots long-since kicked off and lost to the depths. He doesn't know how long he's been out here, or how much daylight he has left. How much daylight they have left to search for him, if anyone is even looking.

They're looking for him. He believes that. He does.

It's just—he's been treading water for a long time.

Perspective is strange from the water. The waves move him, breaking against his face, blurring his vision, but all he can really see from this angle is the vast blue ceiling of the sky. Birds, sometimes, high and fast-moving. Contrails, even higher than that, sunlight glinting on metal, streaks of vapor spreading out behind. He has a crazy, futile urge to wave his arms and scream every time one passes overhead, like someone's going to spot him from a jet forty thousand feet in the air.

All he can do is keep swimming. The water slips around his arms as he moves, a steady repetitive motion that's as slow as he can make it without actually sinking. Frog kicking to conserve his energy. He's a strong swimmer, always has been. He can do this. They're out here looking for him—he knows it. That means it's his job to stay alive long enough for them to find him.

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming," he mumbles, a cracked, rasping singsong, and the sound of his own voice startles him so badly that he loses the rhythm of his strokes for a moment and goes under. When he finally surfaces again, sputtering, there's a low, rising rumble, the waves around him getting choppier.

Tsunami, he thinks vaguely. But it wouldn't feel like this. Out on the open ocean, tsunamis are fast-moving but barely perceptible on the surface. It's only when they move into the shallow waters closer to shore that the devastation starts. Flooded streets. Toppled cars. A small, precious body clutched in Buck's arms, or falling away into the water with devastating finality.

The rumbling is getting closer. Buck spins clumsily and blinks for a few moments, wondering if it's just a mirage that's about to blur and vanish into the punishing brilliance of the sun on the water. But it stays, and it gets closer: the sleek white shape of a patrol boat cutting through the water toward him, U. S. COAST GUARD printed across his hull.

Buck starts laughing, ragged and breathless. Maybe he's crying, too, or maybe that's just the saltwater stinging his eyes. The sound of the engine vibrates in his chest, in his ears, as someone in a wetsuit drops into the water and starts swimming toward him with long, smooth strokes, RFD towing behind him. For a wild instant, Buck thinks it might be Eddie, but of course when the man gets close enough to make out any detail, he's a stranger. Older, weather-beaten face, no-nonsense expression.

"Alright, Firefighter Buckley," he says as soon as he's close enough, and it's the best thing, the best thing, Buck has heard in hours. "I'm gonna push this floatation device to you, and I want you to grab it and hold on. Got it? Can you do that for me?"

"Y-y-yeah." Buck's teeth are chattering now. He doesn't know if it's cold or adrenaline or both; a wave of weakness washes through him. "I kn-n-now the d-drill."

The RFD bobs through the water toward him. He grabs at it, clutching it to his chest with such force that he goes under again for a second.

God, it's a relief to let his legs go loose, to feel the buoy hold him up, to have his survival dependent on something else besides his own body and stubbornness.

The guardsman waits until his grip is secure to start towing him back toward the boat. After that, it's all a confused blur of harnesses and hands and the sudden chill of the air as his body leaves the water, sopping wet clothes clinging.

He nearly collapses when his feet hit the deck, the abused muscles in his legs cramping and twanging. His arms feel like two chunks of concrete dangling from his shoulders. Two guardsmen catch him before he can collapse—the man from the water, and a woman who's enough shorter that Buck has to tilt at an awkward angle to lean on her shoulder. Someone wraps a thermal blanket around his shoulders, and he's guided stumbling and clumsy to a padded bench. He blinks, squinting in the sunlight—it's past the arch of the sky, heading toward the western horizon now. It was early morning when the boat broke up and he went into the water.

"H-how l-l-long was I—was I out there?" he manages through chattering teeth.

"It's sixteen forty-five now," the woman says. "Took us a while to pinpoint your location. You're a strong swimmer, Firefighter Buckley. Good thing, too."

More than nine hours. Closer to ten. He's not sure it felt that long. Time sort of stopped having any real meaning out in the water, but he feels every minute of that time now. "Ju-just Buck. Is f-fine."

"Buck." She actually smiles. "Your team is going to be glad to hear that you're alright. Now I have a few questions, just to see how you're feeling. Are you up for that? Someone's getting some dry clothes for you right now."

He nods. His neck feels heavy, and his muscles are throbbing, and the shivering is worse now, even with the blanket. He stumbles through the assessment, and must reassure her that at the very least he's not about to drop dead on her watch, because after that he's released to change into a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that are several inches too short for him but blissfully dry. After that, he huddles back into the thermal blanket and watches the horizon skid by as the boat makes a wide, looping turn. It looks different from this angle. Bigger. He can see more of the world from above the water than he could when he was trying not to drown, and there's a metaphor in that, maybe.

That's the last thought he remembers having before sleep catches him and drags him under.

-

He wakes to footsteps, the sound of voices. All of the sounds feel louder and closer now, and when he finally drags his eyes open, they're docking. It's nearly sunset, the waves reflecting shifting shades of red and gold. It's pretty, he thinks sleepily. Even if it did just try to kill him. Again.

Shouts. Footsteps on the deck. Then hands on his shoulders, gentle but firm, and Buck blinks up at Bobby.

"Hey, Cap," he mumbles.

"Hey, kid." Those might actually be tears in Bobby's eyes, but he's smiling all the same. "Glad to see you're alright."

"Glad those Navy SEAL tryouts actually paid off," says Chim from behind him, and he's beaming too, unabashedly teary-eyed. "You just saved me from having to make one of the worst phone calls of my life, my friend."

"They wouldn't make you notify Maddie," Buck mumbles. "Against regulation."

"Yeah, and I bet you can name the line and letter," Chim says, as Bobby sinks down and wraps an arm around Buck's shoulders, squeezing tight. Buck leans against him. His skin feels itchy and sore from dried salt and sunburn, but at least he's not shivering anymore. Bobby's here, and Chim. He squints past them, but no other familiar faces appear.

"Hen and Eddie are in the other boat," Bobby says, before he can even ask. "They should be here any minute."

"And you are about to be read the riot act, make no mistake about it."

"Wasn't on purpose."

"Yeah, I know." Chim reaches across Bobby to scruff Buck's salt-sticky hair. "Just the worst luck known to mankind. You've got to be down at least three of those nine lives at this point."

The guardsman who examined him reappears over Chim's shoulder as they bump to a halt next to the dock. "Just a few more minutes, gentlemen. We already called it in; the ambulance will meet us there."

"I'm fine," Buck says, more for form's sake than because he thinks it'll get him off the hook here. "Just tired."

Chim scoffs loudly, and Bobby says, "You're going to the hospital, don't fight me on it."

"Okay," Buck yawns.

He closes his eyes again, not quite sleeping so much as drifting, vaguely aware of the warmth and weight of Bobby's arm, the bustle around him. Then he's being coaxed to his feet, muscles screaming all the way. He tilts heavily into Bobby as Chim steadies him from the other side and they shuffle their way off the boat. Bobby delivers him into the hands of the paramedics, and Buck is sitting on the edge of the ambulance bay while his lungs and pulse are examined for a second time, when he hears a ragged voice shouting his name.

"Oh," Buck says, squinting in the dimming sunset. The lights are on around the dock, making it plenty bright enough for him to make out the tall, dark-haired figure sprinting across the lot toward them.

"Buck," Eddie shouts again, and then again, softer, as he stumbles to a halt in front of him. "Buck."

"Hey, Eddie," Buck mumbles. He blinks a couple of times, but his eyes are having some trouble focusing. Eddie's face blurs before him, then settles. Wind-burnt cheeks, wide, wet, beautiful eyes. Chest heaving like he's been sprinting a lot farther than across the parking lot. "Sorry."

Eddie swears under his breath and steps closer as the paramedic lifts her stethoscope away with a deep sigh.

"I'll give you two a moment," she says.

"I'm sorry," Buck says again, and Eddie says, "Fuck, Jesus Christ, don't be sorry," and heaves him into a hug. It's tight enough to be uncomfortable, as sore as he is, but Eddie is warm and breathing quick against his hair as his hands pat over Buck's back like he's checking for injuries and then just clutch at him, and Buck thinks he could probably happily stay here forever.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he mumbles.

A slightly crazed-sounding laugh escapes Eddie. His cheek scrapes against Buck's, warm, uncomfortably scratchy against his sunburn, and then he turns his head just enough to press his lips to Buck's cheekbone, bruising, barely even a kiss. It does something funny to Buck's insides all the same. "I thought you were dead."

"I'm okay."

"I thought you were dead." It's shaky this time. He's pretty sure Eddie is crying. He thinks he might be, too. Exhaustion and relief and the way Eddie is holding onto him like he can't stand to let go.

The kiss, too. That kiss, just now, that was barely a kiss.

"Eddie, hey." Clumsily, he reaches up. His shoulders ache, his arms feel like lead, but he manages to catch Eddie by the arms. "I'm okay."

Eddie nods against him. Then he kisses Buck's cheek again. This time it's softer, almost delicate; this time, it feels deliberate.

"Are we gonna do the Indiana Jones thing here?" Buck murmurs. "Because I'd be cool with that. For the record. If we are."

Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, which is what he was going for, and finally releases him. He keeps a hand on Buck's shoulder, thumb just brushing the side of his neck, the same way he's always held onto Buck. Over his shoulder, Buck can see Hen approaching, but she hangs back.

"Since when have you seen Indiana Jones?" he asks.

"Blame Chim."

"Okay."

"So," Buck stutters, and it's not the cold now, or exhaustion. This is just nerves. "So—so if you—do you want—?"

Eddie breathes out a quiet laugh. His thumb moves carefully against Buck's skin. And they're doing this, apparently, after everything: right here, on the tailgate of an ambulance with half of their family and a couple of mildly impatient first responders looking on. Buck will be embarrassed about that later, probably.

Right now, though, Eddie says, "Yeah, Buck, of course I do," in that fond quiet voice that Buck loves so much. Right now, Eddie leans down again to kiss Buck a third time, carefully, right on the lips.

It lingers sweetly for a moment. A few yards away, Chim wolf-whistles and Hen starts laughing, but Eddie doesn't pull back until Buck is light-headed and breathless and smiling like a dope.

Eddie looks pretty dopey himself: soft-eyed, a little stunned, even though he's the one who started this. Buck leans up for another kiss, and doesn't break it even when his shoulders and neck cramp into painful knots at the movement. He must make a noise, because Eddie pulls back a moment later. He doesn't go far, though. His hand is still warm on Buck's nape.

"Buck," he says.

"Yeah," Buck sighs, trying not to pout. "You're riding with me in the ambulance, though, right?"

"Obviously. And you're coming home with me after."

"Obviously," Buck repeats. He tilts his chin up for another kiss, even though it hurts, and Eddie lets him.

[welldigger62]

Monday Plus One?

Yeah, Happy Tuesday 😂

I got all kinds of color in the morning sky for you guys today. I had taken another shot 9 minutes before this one and the jet contrails were not there yet.

Truck cleaning is almost done. Got the back half waxed yesterday. Gotta add rain-x to the windshield and then I’m done.

Stay out of trouble my tumblr buds 😃

[choconat67]

I wanted to do the city at night, but I decided on something different, we can see the RRBs in the background flying through the city and the girls being higher up in the sky.

-Ohh, there go the boys!- the bubuja's voice sounded happy while in the distance above the city lights the three trails of red, blue and green that flew over the sea of ​​lights. Buttercup had her arms crossed over her chest and laughed. "Don't shout or they'll know we're up here."

Her brother looked at her bewildered. "Why wouldn't they know?"

-Don't pay attention Bubbles- Blossom smiled at her sister -She just doesn't want to accept that she lost that food fight with Butch and the others- in a mocking tone of the redhead, it bothered her endangered sister a little, who acted "indignant."

-It's not true! - She looked away - That guy has the stomach of a hyena, if Brick didn't avoid it he would probably try to eat buildings or something stupid - Buttercup said looking at the clouds below them.

The laughter of her sisters, the space behind them and the clouds beneath them made the city look so small, but despite the bright city lights it was good to see the three contrails travel at night over Townsville, Blossom knew that they They deserved this, a chance at life, the chance to live and not just survive.

-Come on girls, remember that we have a meeting! - Blossom's leader's voice caught the attention of her sisters and they followed her back to her place.

Oh I like it and in my ppg universe the fact that the boys got stronger and are trying to live more normally and the girls at this point are already good friends with the boys in different ways, remember that the two AUs are related to each other, and I intend for them to coexist at some point or meet, this AU and the Fallen Heroes one:3

Queria hacer la ciudad de noche, pero me decidi por algo diferente, podemos ver a los RRB al fondo volando por la ciudad y laa chicas estando mas arriba en el cielo.

-Ohh alli van los chicos!- la voz de buebuja sonaba alegre  mientras a la distancia sobre las luces de la ciudad las tres estelas de color Rojo, azul y verde que volaban sobre el mar de luces. Buttercup tenía los brazos  cruzados sobre su pecho y soltó una risa -No grites o sabrán que estamos aquí arriba-

Su herman la miró desconcertada -Por qué no lo sabrían?-

-No hagas caso Bubbles- Blossom sonrió a su hermana -Solo no quiere aceptar que perdió esa guerra de comida con Butch y los demas- en tono burlon de la pelirroja molesto un poco a su hermana peligra quien actuó "indignada".

-No es cierto!- ella miró a otro lado- ese bastando tiene el estómago de una hiena, si brick no lo evitará probablemente trataría de comer edificios o alguna tonteria- dijo Buttercup mirando las nubes bajo ellas.

Las risas de sus hermanas, el espacio detrás de ellas y las nubes bajo ellas hacían ver la ciudad tan pequeña, pero a pesar de las brillantes luces de la ciudad era bueno ver las tres estelas viajar por la noche sobre Townsville, Blossom sabía que ellos merecían esto, una oportunidad de vida, la oportunidad de vivir y no sólo sobrevivir.

-Vamos chicas, recuerden que tenemos una reunion!- la voz de líder de Blossom capto la atención  de sus hermanas quieres la siguieron de regresó a su lugar.

Oh me gusta y en mi universo ppg el hecho que los chicos se reforzaron y están tratando de vivir más normalmente y las chicas a este punto ya son buenas amigas de los chicos en diferentes formas, recuerden que los dos AU están relacionados entre sí, y tengo la intención de que convivan en algún momento o se conozcan, este AU y el de Fallen Heroes:3

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Happy late birthday!!! I hope you had a good day and had a fun time <3

I don't know if your wips are open yet cus it doesn't say so, but you just posted something related so idk.

If they are, could I have some Vampdrew? Or some Angel Neil?

Either way! Lots of love <3

WIP Wednesday (9/18) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 234)

"So what? Neither are these," Andrew says as he lights a cigarette. He takes a drag and blows out smoke; it curls in the cool evening air then dissipates. "But I like them."

Neil takes the gum out of his mouth and it burns to nothing in his hand. A slightly fruity scent joins Andrew's cigarette smoke as the angel picks up the sandwich. "Thanks."

While they sit there, Andrew considers the pros and cons of being an angel. For every good thing seems to be canceled out by another. Neil can make himself invisible, but he has to because he's not allowed to talk to people. He can summon a magical knife, but he's terrified of it. He doesn't have to eat but he evidently feels hunger, based on the huge bite he's taking. Andrew flicks ash and lifts his cigarette back to his lips. He thinks the umbrella-shield and the angel fire must have drawbacks, he just hasn't witnessed them yet.

"D'you put jelly in this?" Neil asks suddenly, his voice thick with peanut butter. Andrew doesn't think it should be endearing, but alas. He's weak.

"No. Didn't have any." Andrew answers, causing Neil to pout slightly. Before Andrew can call him out for being a choosing beggar, he realizes Neil has literally never asked him for anything. Not for himself. He only asks for things that pertain to Andrew's well-being. The idiot. Neil sets his sandwich on his thigh and grabs for the water bottle, taking a long sip. Andrew watches his throat as he swallows.

Once they're both finished with their unnecessary vices— can a peanut butter sandwich be a vice, Andrew wonders— Neil burns the paper towel Andrew had wrapped up and stares into the flame in his hand with an unreadable expression. Andrew gives him a look. Is he about to find the bad side of Neil's fire? No, evidently not. Neil just blows the pile of ash out of his palm and moves to lie down, looking up at the sky.

It's far too early for stars and they're sort of hard to see from here anyway, thanks to all the light pollution. But Neil just keeps staring up at the fading daylight. A few moments pass and suddenly a plane is overhead, leaving wispy white streaks behind it. Andrew watches it until it's out of sight and thinks that it's like Neil. No matter if he's visible or not, there's always angelic contrails in Andrew's mind. It's sort of nice, having Neil to think about instead of the rest of everything in the world. The future, the past. Fuck, even the present is annoying to think about for too long. But Neil makes it worthwhile, even if he's a bit pissy the court is off limits till Friday.

That's right, Andrew remembers gleefully. There was no practice today and there won't be tomorrow either. Or Thursday. Oh, what a wonderful world to live in. No practice, just Neil and— Oh, fuck. Tomorrow's Wednesday. Andrew chews on the end of his cigarette as he considers his next session with Betsy. He's not sure what they'll end up discussing, but he knows she'll inevitably bring up Neil. She's his favorite subject at the moment, after all. (Andrew's too, but no one needs to know.)

Speaking of Neil. Andrew is once again fully convinced there's a gorgeous, snarky, angelic asshole lying next to him right now. He knows Neil is here. He's seen him eat and drink and sew and there's the knife mark in the roof still. And the Butcher exists and Kevin met him! He has all this evidence, he believes in Neil. He's 99.9% sure Neil's here. But there's the tiniest, tiniest bit of doubt in the back of Andrew's mind and he wants it gone.

[monarch-moon]

Contrails linger in the sky But mundane memories will remain long after they fade into the clouds. -- An infodumping Corn is a happy Corn, and Soda is always content to just listen c: I can't begin to describe how hard I ship these two.

Also Soda is a cat person you can't change my mind.

(disclaimer: given the ambiguity of JSRF's ages, I headcanon them as adults, jsyk)

[emil162]

Hikō Yakan is an owl-like bird from the floating kingdom in the sky, Sky Land. Hikō has a great agility and speed, she can easily dodge several obstacles at the same time and is known for her acrobatic sky dances showing her exceptional flying skills.

Even the king and queen had recognized her abilities and made her the youngest captain of the night scouting brigade patrolling the skies around the kingdom.

Right after the kidnapping Hikō felt it was her duty to search for Princess Elle, and with the permission of the rulers, she set out to search the skies of the earth.

While looking for the Princess, Hikō repeatedly saw great steel birds flickering with lights in the sky, leaving only a contrail behind. When Princess Elle and her guardians Sora and Mashiro were found, she learns that these birds are machines called airplanes. She becomes fascinated by the earth aviation and the way humans learned the ability to fly.

Later on with the help of none other than the hyper-amazing legendary honorary scholar Yoyo-sama, she was taught the technique of transforming herself into a human. So that she could stay on the earth and easily study all about the principles of aviation as well as explore the secrets of aeronautical engineering.

Now Hikō is a 16-year-old aviation fanatic girl whose personality is clearly characterized by her surreal determination and her hardworking but still calm and happy nature. Elle-chan immediately sees that Hikō is a natural flyer determined to reach the peak of her abilities thus in a situation of a great danger she granted her the power of becoming a Pretty Cure!

Hikō Yakan becomes one of the main Cures in Hirogaru Sky! Pretty Cure, and she transforms into the Pretty Cure of the Night, Cure Aviatrix.

Her catchphrase is „A silent claw gliding in the night sky! Cure Aviatrix!”

----------------------------------------

Yakan hikō – night flight (jap.). Changed the order 😉

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Now I’d like to take a moment to say thanks to the incredibly supportive artist @aceaeite . Even though we’ve only known each other for a while, she always had a moment to advise what and how to improve to achieve the effect I’m sharing with you today! It was thanks to her that I pushed forward not to give up and draw, draw and draw again. I miss such people in my life with whom I can share my passions, which is why I am extremely grateful to her for sharing her experience and just wanting to spend a moment getting to know the other person ❤️ thank you!

[cutiequisitor]

Hi my name is Crimson 1 and I have an emblem that is a bunch of crimson spikes (that’s how I got my name) with crimson stars and triangles with white contrails that reach my radar warning antennas and blond hair and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like the best ace pilot in the world (AN: if u don’t know who that is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to the Dust Mother but I wish I was because she’s a major fucking hottie. I’m Cascadian but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a fighter pilot, and I fight for the Federation in Cascadia. I'm a Peacekeeper (in case you couldn’t tell) and I fly mostly Sk.37s and VX-23s. I love planes and I fly them all the time. For example today I was in my Sk.37 with crimson stripes on the fuselage and crimson stars on the fins. I was flying above Prospero. It was anomalously stormy, which I was very happy about. A lot of rebels stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

[catdotjpeg]

On Friday, 24 captives held in Gaza, including 10 Thai nationals, one Filipino and 13 Israeli women and children were released. In exchange, 24 Palestinian women — including two 18-year-olds — and 15 boys who were held as prisoners in Israel were released. The captives were transferred out of Gaza and handed over to Egyptian authorities at the Rafah border crossing, accompanied by eight staff members of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) in a four-car convoy, the ICRC said.

The release of the Thais, who were all men, is believed to be unrelated to the truce negotiations and followed a separate track of talks with Hamas mediated by Egypt and Qatar.

According to Marwan Bishara, Al Jazeera’s senior political analyst, this could the beginning of something positive. “If the agreement works today, it means it could definitely work in the following few days,” Bishara said. “This is the other side to the darkness that has befallen Gaza and somewhat Israel over the past 50 days … so it’s important for us to look at this, regardless of how short and how complicated it is, and see it as what is possible and why ending this war is so important,” he added.

In Khan Younis town in southern Gaza, streets filled with people venturing out of home and shelters into a landscape of buildings flattened into heaps of rubble. Displaced families with small children carried belongings in plastic bags, hoping to return at least temporarily to homes they had abandoned earlier in the war. “I am now very happy, I feel at ease. I am going back to my home, our hearts are rested,” said Ahmad Wael, smiling as he walked carrying a mattress balanced on his head. “I am very tired of sitting without any food or water. There [at home] we can live, we drink tea, make bread.” In northern Gaza’s combat zone, viewed from across the fence in southern Israel, there was no sign of the warplanes that have thundered through the sky for weeks, explosions on the ground or the contrails of Hamas rocketfire. Just one plume of smoke was visible in the early afternoon. Columns of Israeli tanks rolled away from the Gaza Strip’s northern end in the morning, while aid trucks entered from Egypt at the southern end.

-- From "How day one unfolded" from Al Jazeera, 24 Nov 2023

[eldritchships]

50 for the kisses ask for whoever you’d like! —@celestialship

Another dollar in the jar for "[Almost] forgetting that TFA!Flatline doesn't turn into a helicopter" lol

50 - Under the stars

A bright blue racecar, parked beside an equally bright pink jet, was probably one of the most conspicuous things Blurr could think of. He was afraid that they’d be spotted by humans, even out here, beside a highway leaving Detroit. Sure, Autobots were generally accepted by the organic populace of this planet, but he couldn’t say the same for Decepticons - of which, the helicopter beside him was aligned with. One look at a purple faction badge and the humans would run screaming.

Once they’d been alone long enough to consider the coast clear, Blurr transformed, and Flatline followed suit. Blurr’s gaze softened as he watched Flatline tuck his wings against his back, shaking some of the dirt from the gaps in his pedes. The way that Blurr’s spark warmed in its chamber was mirrored by the faint yellow glow cast over the two of them, from the lamps dotting the roadside a short distance away.

“Alright, stop keeping secrets.” Flatline stepped over to Blurr and took his servos, tugging them forward in his building excitement. “Why did you want to meet here of all places? The suspense is killing me.” Blurr chuckled, a smug ‘heh heh heh’ that wrinkled the space where his nose would be as he pulled Flatline towards him. Flatline obliged, slotting into Blurr’s arms with familiar ease, despite the curiosity buzzing through his circuits.

“Well the meeting place doesn’t matter when you really think about it everything would still have gone as I planned if we’d met anywhere. No the only thing that does matter is that we were far far far away from the bright lights of the city.” As he spoke, Blurr moved, leading his partner into a gentle sway from side to side. He pet one corner of the blue chevron adorning Flatline’s helm between his digits, enjoying the way Flatline tilted his helm into the soft touch. “I think if you want an answer to your question and to satisfy that endless nosiness of yours then you should try looking up.” His servo moved from the blue chevron, cupping Flatline’s cheek and gently tilting his helm back. Flatline’s gaze turned upwards, and his lips parted in silent awe.

The night sky above them was a deep and dark shade of blue, dotted with brushstrokes of white stars. One trail of them tapered back towards the city, like a Seeker’s contrail vapour.

Flatline’s optics danced across the sight above their helms, and a soft sigh escaped his lips, a breathed ‘Wow’ as he took in Earth’s night sky. Blurr let out an amused, affectionate huff under his breath; His own optics were too fixed on Flatline to appreciate the view, even after all the time he’d spent scouting a good location to see it. The sway he’d led them in before had shrunk to a rhythmic leaning, his and Flatline’s minds thoroughly enraptured by other things.

“It’s beautiful.” Flatline smiled.

“So are you.” Blurr replied before he could stop himself. Flatline dragged his optics away and back down to Blurr. The blue optics sparkled with the same brightness as the stars above, happy, content, and amused by Blurr’s accidental blurting-out. Blurr huffed again and looked defensive, although it failed to stick when his mouth was curved upwards in a stifled smile. “Well it’s true that you are and especially right now and it’s not my fault that I’m hopelessly in love with you.” Flatline had opened his mouth to say something, before Blurr finished his sentence, but whatever it was vanished as a rush of warm energon rising to his faceplate caused Flatline’s cooling fans to click on. Blurr’s smile widened into a satisfied smirk; once upon a time, Flatline had always been the cocky, flirtatious one. But ever since they’d become something concrete, something real, Blurr was able to easily fluster the medic simply by being genuine.

And he was being genuine. Flatline looked beautiful like this, with faint lamplight shining on his frame. It reminded Blurr of when they’d first met (without faction boundaries between them), on a rooftop bench overlooking Cybertron’s night sky. Only this time, not a wire of apprehension could be found in his body.

“I love you too.” Pink arms squeezed around Blurr’s midsection as Flatline let his forehelm fall against Blurr’s, holding the speedster as close as he could. It wasn’t close enough for Blurr, and he surged forward, closing the distance and pressing his lips to Flatline’s. The soft kiss lasted a long, indulgent moment, but it was followed by another, then another. One was simply not enough to satisfy the flood of affection pouring from Blurr’s spark, and it pulsed from him so strongly he was sure Flatline would be able to feel it in his own.

If the servos rising to tenderly cradle Blurr’s jaw were any indication, Flatline did.

[sparkmender]

{ @best-head } "Matron," he calls softly, from out in the hallway. It has been a long time, since he has met with Rung. They are both busy, but Prowl has made the time to come out after Rung's call.

{ @best-head }

The last time he’d seen Prowl in person, the young mechling was being carried out of Nine of Twelve’s personal quarters in Skids’ arms, not even an adolescent but so quiet and serious among his rowdier siblings. As if Prowl had been the only one of Nine’s ‘irregulars’ that knew they would not be returning to the Cog, that night or ever again.

It had been the right call. Nine had seen the writing on the wall as Six passed restriction after restriction and the others pushed further and further into depravity, and his gaggle of adopted foundlings and requisitioned project assets were entrusted to Shockwave, who eventually scattered them to the winds for their own safety.

Rung had missed them dearly, his little firelights in the darkness; more than half of them were split from his own spark, conceived in the early experimental phase, but he’d been fiercely smitten with all of them regardless of their origins. It was that preferential treatment that eventually meant the critical gaze of the rest of the Council, the murmurs and whispers, so it had been for the best that they left, but—

But it had broken something in Rung to go without them, even if he only ever saw most of the brood in passing at meals and informal gatherings. It had been so much easier for Four of Twelve and Quark to take what they wanted from him afterwards.

And now Rung comes stumbling and laughing out from the hazy golden light of the garden courtyard near sunset, resplendent in his jubilation, the shawl he’d drawn about his shoulders flapping wildly behind him like a contrail of lace and seafoam as he runs down the stone pathway to throw his arms around Prowl.

“Prowl, mayn neschumeleh, my baby… not so much a baby now, ah! I’ve missed you, I’ve missed so much— oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’m just so happy to see you.”

[jongace]

contrail ending fairy ♡ music core 230617 + 230624 happy birthday yebin!

[ao3feed-sambucky]

pulling the pin

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/eWUJEQ5 by Sans Salt replaces air. Goddammit. Sam reads that last time, reads the blood and the contrails of flames. His name like a pin pulled from a grenade. Don't let it be him. or: Sam and Bucky try and fail to do the right thing for each other, the right thing just being two guys in love. Words: 6804, Chapters: 1/4, Language: English Fandoms: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Sarah Wilson (Marvel), Isaiah Bradley, Helen Cho (Marvel), Minor Characters Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America Sam Wilson, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Divorce, Major Character Injury, plot averse, afropessimism if you look, Angst with a Sam Happy Ending read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/eWUJEQ5

[solar-punkprincess]

Drawing Lines

I spend my time

Drawing lines

Across the sky

To give you something to hold onto

Like a grape upon a vine

Or a dress hung on clothesline

The breeze, it brings you close to me

I spend my time

Drawing lines

Across the sky

To give you something you can lean on

As you watch over me from Heaven

Like a bird perched on a wire

I see you in the every

Flutter of their wings

I hear you when they sing

You left and left me hollow

Now you sit and watch me from above

And I sit here writing lines

In hope that you might hear them

In hope that you can hear me

See, I know that you are with me

But I long for your company

And I know that you’re not lonely

In the kingdom of the holy

With your daughter by your side

I know that you are happy

And I hope you’ve found your peace

See, you have a peace of me

In every word that I write

In every breath that I sigh

You’re always on my mind

When I look up at the sky

And see the crystallized contrails

Of planes in flight

Passing by my line of sight

Like the tears that trail my cheeks

Memories piped like icing

Fast and bittersweet

I see you in every line

That crosses my mind

That crosses the sky

_____

a.c.