#i had so much to say tho and you sparked something within me

[dansevilpianotea]

who do you think is more Crowley coded and who is more Azira coded out of dnp?

i set myself hourly notifications ever since you send the ask and it still took me this long to answer, im so sorry 😭

to answer your question:

It might seem like obvious that dan is crowley coded and phil is azira coded because of their aesthetics and personality but stating that as that is too simple for me. lets break it down:

dan is like crowley in the obvious sense of having that edgy aesthetic and always needing to question things while phil is the one with the light aesthetic who enjoys what is happening despite the problems it has. just watch them play the game of life.

this reminds me of this quote from a book ive read for uni which really stuck with me:

so yea, dan is the social scientist who points out what most people miss and phil is the one who tells us that we shouldn't wallow in defeat of it but make our own meaning out of it. and we need both! they are like ying and yang, like crowley and aziraphale in that way.

crowley who questions heaven and thusly falls, but then doesnt stop questioning hell because he doesnt see the world in black and white, good actions and bad actions.

i think dan for a long time was not like that. i say this with the utmost respect but if you look back, his branding was usually self deprecating jokes and at least to me personally it felt like his perspective was pessimistic. he always made sure to leave a positive message but to me it felt like a wish for a better future, not a feeling of certainty that it will be better.

Phil on the other hand is very much like that:

Phil is like aziraphale and me in the sense that he gets irrationally worried about things,

but it is dan who literally did a tour about his worries of the world ending, with branding and all:

and yet:

phil and crowley both have that rational optimism, the sense that things will be okay. but aziraphale does not give up in-spite of the odds being against them. in s1 he refuses to run away to alpha centauri because he believes that they should stay and fight. that there is still hope. he does not accept that the world will end. but its crowley who sparks the idea of aziraphale raising the antichrist with him. its aziraphale who tells angel crowley of armageddon , and its why crowley gets upset and questions the almighty.

so my point is that phil has aziraphale's light aesthetic vibes and his fear of near doom but crowley's certainty that everything will be okay in the end despite it.

dan on the other hand has crowley's edgy dark aesthetic, his cynicism and sense of questioning belief systems, but also aziraphale's determinism to fight what he is sure is a losing battle/the end of the world because he wants to believe that it is possible that everything will be okay (that being the message of wad/ywgttn/big/etc...)

i want to talk a bit about 'dark/light polarity'. what we mean by that is two sides of the same coin. yin and yang:

☯️

they depend on each other, they interconnect and intertwine. be it real people or fictional characters, it is never a clear black and white binary, because what the characters have something that the other lacks and when they come together they become a whole. plato said humans once had 4 legs and feet, and then got split in half by zeus to punish us to live our lives yearning to be connected with the other half of our soul/coin, our soulmate. they carry sth of each other within them because there are shards that got broken in the middle when the being was split and were forced to choose sides.

so even tho it might seem like dan is more like crowley coded and phil is more aziraphale coded because of their light/dark aesthetic, there's many things of both in each of them and thats what makes it interesting and real to us.

[gameyface46]

Who am I if not the most lonesome man in the world?

I like to talk about what went into making a piece, so here goes I guess.

I had posted a WIP a while ago with the start of the story, but I’ll repeat it anyway. One day I was waiting at a bus stop in a heavy downpour with no umbrella. I was soaked beyond belief. But it sparked an idea within me. What if I drew Magolor wet from the rain taking shelter under a bus shelter? I thought it was a good idea, but I honestly don’t know. I think if I was a better artist, this would’ve been a better piece, but that’s like saying if I was a better cook, this meal wouldn’t be foul.

This took me over a bloody MONTH to finish because things kept looking off, but honestly it’s not… HORRIBLE. You know what they say, don’t let perfect be the enemy of good.

Why did I stop here? Because I promised myself to not have a backlog of projects. One project, maybe two. THAT’S IT. I wanted to move on because honestly this is not the greatest composition. I think there might be too much negative space, or I guess too much to be noticeable, but not enough to be purposeful. I think something else is off, just can’t say what? Values? Composition as a whole? I dunno. I love my little guy tho.

Anyway y’all imma move on to something new. Shoot me ideas if you’d like cause my brain is literally dead rn. Love y’all so much. （╹◡╹）♡

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* POST-SCRIPT!

I thought Taylor’s The Tortured Poets Department was fine. It’s okay, but I’m personally a Lover type guy, so it fell flat for me. Also, 31 songs? That is TOO MANY poems, Taylor. ‘Twas alright. Florida!!!, MBOBHFT, and I Can Do It With A Broken Heart caught me the most, and the single Fortnight, and the title track The Tortured Poets Department are pretty fine, too. Clara Bow was interesting in that it is the first song where she explicitly mentions herself (in lyric, 22 does not count).

[universallychaoticpan]

Hii! I really love your stories, they make me so happy even tho im going through some tough times, thank you for your hard work 💕

Soo I thought I could request something, if it's fine with you of course! So we all know how Dazai feels really alienated because he lacks basic human emotions but still wears a facade of outgoing clown. So I'd really love to read something maybe from his perspective when he meets reader who is just like him, and at the beginning he thought that she was just a simple girl but then something happened where she showed her more morally-gray side (apathetic a little) and then suddenly dazai realized that she could be the first person to understand him.

Feel free to ignore my request, I hope you have a wonderful day/night! 💕

Hello!! Thank you so much for being so sweet (y'all are gonna make me cry omg :,) ) I'm so happy I can help make you feel a little better in some small way. Anyway my gushing aside, I hope you enjoy this and come back anytime <333

Dazai knew, for a long, long time, that he was never going to be like everyone else. It simply wasn't his nature. The things others seemed to feel so easily, all the joy, sorry rage- he had to reach for. And he never could hold it; always, they slipped away like water in his hands.

He hated himself for it. In the past, he had questioned why he couldn't feel. He knew he wasn't a good person, but he knew plenty of bad people still capable of feeling something. He supposed Mori had ruined him, all those years ago. If anyone asked, he would blame it on the Port Mafia executive, which doubled as a convenient way to get them to stop asking. People rarely questioned a former mafia prodigy once they knew the slightest details of his past. But deep inside himself, he knew the truth. He had always been the way he was; that was his nature. This thing he was, the emptiness within him- there was no one to blame. He came by it all on his own, all the ugliness inside of him. But he should have been an actor, with all the faking he did. There was no end to how far he could go, how convincing he could be.

But still, he drifted, alone in his lack of feeling to tether him to the world.

Then, of course, like nature always intends, something changed.

You walked into his life, and he could feel you. Not in the sense that you were alive with passion, but quite the opposite.

You were like him.

He could see it in how you smiled, how you laughed- not disingenuous, per say, but lacking. They lacked the way his did. When you showed up, at first glance just another simple person, he found an anomaly. He found a rarity just like himself. All too quickly, he realized the two of you were the last of a dying species.

And his suspicions were confirmed on a summer night like any other, while you were walking home.

He wasn't following you. He kept telling himself that; you were just walking past the bar he had situated himself in that night and hey, it wasn't strange to bump into someone and strike up a conversation. That's what he told himself as he wove through the small clusters of people on the street, a distance between the two of you. But what began as innocent curiosity about you turned as quickly as you did, checking over your shoulders before walking into a narrow alley.

Now he was alight with curiosity; the same small spark that had lured him after you to begin with now spread into his limbs, quickening his pace until he realized he had lost sight of you.

Shit

He couldn't believe he had been so distracted as to loose you. Even worse, he had followed you down into a foggy maze of alleys, branching off in a myriad directions and while he wasn't worried about being lost, he wasn't thrilled about having to find his way back home either.

This of course, ceased to be his prime concern when a shadow came barreling into him, slamming him to the ground with a grunt before pressing a knife to his throat.

"Move and I will kill you. Now tell me why in hell you were following me."

And in spite of himself, he had to laugh. Because instead of some mysterious assailant, he was looking up into your face with your knife digging coolly into his skin. And once you recognized him, you lowered your weapon and took your weight off him, now straddling his hips and staring at him dumbfounded.

"Mind telling me what the punchline is here, Dazai?"

"Oh it's really nothing," he chuckled. "It's just that you were oh so ready to kill me."

"Yes," you replied, rolling your eyes, "I was. I have enemies so naturally I'm ready to kill creeps who follow me into dark alleys at night."

"But that's just it," he responded coyly. "The way you looked at me when you had me on the ground- I see that look every day when I look in a mirror. Let me guess: you could have killed me here and now and not felt a damn thing about it."

"Yeah so what," you shrugged. "Anyone could kill an enemy and not loose sleep over it."

"Wrong," he challenged. "People like to lie to themselves and think they could, but the truth is, most people would feel like a monster for killing even their worst enemy.

You and I are monsters because we know we would feel nothing."

You blinked, then stood up, brushing dirt off your pants as you turned to go. "I don't know what sort of person you've got me pegged for, but you're wrong."

He stood as well, following you still as you began to walk away.

"No, I'm dead right and you know it. Get a drink with me; by sunrise you'll understand we're more alike than even I know."

[sukirichi]

Aaaaaaaa sukiiiiiii why you do this to meeeee 😭😭

Brain mush, im very exhausted so im sorry if ill rant dhdhajdjs

The whole rin diary part - sparked lots of joy 🥺🥺🥺

This part right after

This does not spark joy 😒 like really? really? After we kept admitting we still love rin even while being with omi we go ahead and say that? Especially after reading the damn diary... Really?

This update made my heart shatter for our dearly idiot rin even more.. He keeps thinking we just... Wont love him if we know who he really when (jokes on him we do know) and it just.. It really breaks me

The fact he truly looks that low on himself to the point he believes we are with him just cause hes a prince and if he never was we wouldnt even notice him... Bruh i just.. I want to hug him.. Royal life truly shattered him mentally to the point he has no self esteem uh..

This part tho caught my attention:

He keeps trying to push us away but perhaps cause he's noticeable tired, I mean its described at o e point that he has dark circles under his eyes, what i believe its because hes been sleeping on the couch or something because he refuses to sleep in the same bed as iris (since he did kinda hinted that she had the bed all to herself). And perhaps thanks to him being exhausted he just cant stop himself fron letting little truths come out, he didnt even seem to notice it while we truly did.

Im still disappointed? Bitter? Ahahahha that the baby is staying dhshshhdhoas he's our hubby man i dont want him to be having some other bitch's baby when neither he or she wanted it 🙃 like please just do something good for the story iris and go ahead and lose it 🤣🤣 at this point only the queen will be pissed and we love that royal bitch pissed 🤣🤣

Sorry i wanted to give a better review but damn my job has been killing me ahahahah thank you so much for another update tho, these even tho they kill me 🤡 in a way always cheer me up and make me having something to look forward for.

Also yes kuroooooo destroy the bitchhhhh ahahhaha

the rin diary part!! man I remember having to like sit down for a long time just so I could use the perfect words LIKE WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME ITS HARD TO BE POETIC LMFAO. not that it DID become poetic but it was the best I could pull out of my ass lmaoooo. omg okay I get that it doesn’t spark joy but hear me out!! at that point we’d already fallen for kiyoomi and yknow like… we already know that rintaro hasn’t been that good anyway, and we’re finally choosing what’s right, what’s BETTER (because dtd!yn has always been a character who will most likely end up doing what she thought was right and its really hard to change her mind lol but it’s just!! a matter of what feels right in that moment!!) and in that moment choosing kiyoomi and finally accepting that he has feelings for us felt like the right one! and the diary you know, it really is confusing cuz like – WE LITERALLY HAD JUST BEGUN OUR THING WITH KIYOOMI AND EVERYTHING IS GOING WELL then we see that our husband has always been secretly writing his feelings about us LIKE THE TIMING HONESTLY CAN’T GET ANY WORSE LOL

oh yeah… rin’s inferiority complex has just completely gotten worse because all his insecurities have gone from ten to a hundred. like he somehow always felt like he wasn’t good enough but to know that he was never a prince?! my boy needs therapy. and yes omg that part!! I know during the scene where he kicked us out our room was trying to imply that he wants to share the same bed as iris but naur!! my boy rin won’t even touch her within a ten foot pole in that moment, he just stays on the couch and can barely sleep because he sent us to belleview manor of all places. I just know he stayed up all night thinking about what we’re doing with kiyoomi and well… his imaginations are right because we’re making out with him lol. LMAOOOO I KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT THE BABY I think its bcos iris has been off-screen for such a while now that lowkey I forgot she and the queen existed (in other terms I’m just too excited to write about runaway rin and yn!! and I’m such a pea brain lol)

also no omg!! I hope you’re getting some rest and a well-deserved break though! and thank you so muchhh IM SO HAPPY YOU’RE ENJOYING DTD HEHEHEHE as always I appreciate you for showing so much love and I’m sending you more back!! <33

[charlieconwayy]

Do you think that Joey loved Pacey more than she loved Dawson? How do you see Joey saying to Dawson, "I don't think I'll ever love anyone the way I loved you, either."?

hi friend!

this is a really interesting question and i recommend listening to mine and @witter-potter 's dc podcast "true love: a dawson's creek podcast" to hear more takes.

joey's love for pacey and dawson is entirely different in my opinion and it can be summed up from this quote from joey from the finale:

"pacey, i love you. you know that. and it's very real. it's so real that it's kept me moving, mostly running, from it. never ready for it. and i love dawson, he's my soulmate. he's tied to my childhood and it's a love that is pure and eternally innocent."

ETERNALLY INNOCENT. joey's love for dawson IS something she will never feel about anyone else. they are tied to each other's childhoods and know each other in a deeply emotional way that no one else would understand. joey feels indebted to dawson bc he and his family were there for her when she had no one else (even tho she has a sister who raised her. okay show, okay). their relationship isn't the healthiest by any means, but they will always love each other the way that they remind each other of a more innocent time. i think that them trying to push their relationship to be romantic came from societal norms and both feeling so dependent on the other one that they figured it had to be romantic. it did not. imo, they do not have romantic chemistry.

but joey's love for pacey is different. it's a sexual attraction (which we even see bits of in s1 - her getting turned on by him in the "sex tape" and her literally telling dawson pacey is more attractive sexually), a romantic attraction. it's a slowburn. their relationship is built on building trust and trust is the foundation of any form of intimacy. they challenge each other and encourage each other to better themselves, without putting pressure on the other one. joey's speech in the s3 finale says EVERYTHING about their dynamic and that fire that pacey ignites within her. they have so much chemistry and the attraction/sparks between the two of them is so undeniable that even KW himself couldn't deny it!

but to answer your questions, the loves are different. dawson is joey's best friend. pacey is her true love.

i am traumatized by the concept of romantic soulmates bc of this fucking show so i refuse to go further into detail ab dc & soulmates other than saying jen and jack are THE soulmates of the show.

[waves-of-heat]

Sometimes you meet the perfect strangers. You don’t meet them here, tough. You don’t meet then where you currently are, cause nobody’s really a stranger there. Those are the people that are part of your everyday life. Your commute to work, your grocery shopping. No. You don’t know them. That’s one thing. But you might cross them on a daily.

The perfect stranger though, is someone you have never seen before. Someone you meet far away from where you’re settled. On your trip abroad, vacation, journey or while hunting for a new life. And that’s what’s so perfect about them.

I’ve met my perfect stranger on vacation too. From the first day an imaginary force had dragged him to me, which I kind of ignored. Not on purpose, I just didn’t see it. Because like, when you’re on vacation, in the begginning, your mind still goes back to where you left off at home. work. responsibilities. stress. guilt of not knowing to shut your head off and then guilt of shutting your head of once you finally manage, cause you feel like you shouldn’t. and this goes on in circles for some time, right? Took a couple of days before the sun, sea breeze and margaritas lifted the smog of off my brain and I could see a world around me a bit clearer.

That’s when I noticed. And I liked that. I liked that there was something. I just don’t really know what that was. You see, I have a boyfriend of 6 years who I love more then my life. So it wasn’t love. Attraction? Maybe, but not like major movie or rock band crushes I used to have troughout my life.

It was something different. Something about him that made me stop for a while and think. And I never really think about other guys. I though about how he’s effortles in making fun of me. How good of a dancer he is. How other girls are going crazy for him and he stays so humble. How he’s stopping by at my sunbed anyways. I wanted him as a friend. And I wanted to tell him he deserves the world because that’s how it felt to me.

See, the irony is I’ve only known him for a few short sunny days. I don’t know why I felt like this, I don’t really make friends easily. I don’t even really like people that much, or getting to know them. And saying I got to know him is actually far beyond, as I didn’t. But I felt like I really wanted. And I felt like I wanted to keep in touch.

This perfect stranger has brought out something within me and I don’t think it was coincidence. I was an absolute dead-man walking being so frustraded about my job, stressing about life, being scared of future, of people judging me.

I think he doesn’t know. But he lit a little light in me by how spontaneous his life was, which gave me hope. I suddenly got my spark back, kind of, just by watching him. I felt like I was searching for his presence and his presence fueled me. He liked me. The guy everyone liked, liked me. I must be pretty cool then, right?

He wanted to spend time with me even though I didn’t party, I didn’t dance around him like other girls did. And he’s here. I must be kinda intersting then, maybe not as boring as I tought at least.

He looked at me in a way. In a way I could never return. But hey, I must be kind of special then.

This perfect stranger has reminded me of those things. The things that my boyfriend showed me long time ago. The things he has been reminding me of ever since. But it just became so rutinious I kinda stopped taking it seriously. Even though they weren’t only words, they were actions too. I was just ungrateful. I became resistant to it. It baceme a habit, not something I took to my heart anymore.

Did I need this perfect stranger to remind me? To show me that even thousands miles away from home someone who barely knows me and can’t even speak fluently to me can think that I am special?

I thought the same thing about him. In a bit different way tho. But I did. And I hope I reminded him of the what he may forgot he is just as much as he reminded me.

This is not a love story, no no! Not at all. I found my love a long time ago. This is a story about people who you meet, and they touch you. And you might not even know why, but they leave a permanent mark on you. And you feel like you’re connected even tough they’re strangers. And that’s what’s so perfect about them.

[zacksfairest]

Your ask was so funny because let's get deranged~ Zaresh and Riven

Send me an OC + an alternate love interest for them and I’ll tell you what I think of the idea

GREAT MINDS, AS THEY SAY

Imagine, if you will, that Delethil does not intervene that night in Aerenth when Zaresh came upon Riven? What if he had actually managed to approach her? What if he'd succeeded in charming her?

He has a bit of that Del charm to him. It's part of why Vaela hates Delethil so much. But it's smoother, more refined. It almost makes Riven snort and shoo him off, because it's just so very Moon Elf, and we know how she bristles against the refined finery that comes with Moon Elves and their Ways.

But there is an edge to Zaresh that keeps her there. A gleam to his eye that is not completely Noble.

Almost Rogueish, you might say.

And this is the bit that I love. The reason Riven survives that night? The reason she does not immediately suffer the same fate as Vaela? With her lovely Rose Gold hair and teal eyes?

There is something in that face, that lovely, lovely face, that inspires fury in Zaresh. He can't place it, not in that moment, but it sparks a raging fire in him that pulses through his veins like lava.

He feels his fingers twitch toward his dagger more than once. The urge to carve deep scars into that lovely face almost overwhelming

But there is another emotion that sparks within him, once that is like ice water thrown upon a raging fire.

Fear.

He finds himself feeling fear for the first time in so long when he looks at Riven, and it stays his hand. But he is furious at himself for this, and so pursues her. He needs to find the source of this, and smother it beneath his heel. And fast.

And so he comes to her more often, and it gets harder and harder for Del to run interference, because Riven actively looks forward to Zaresh's visits. And Del has never been one to deny Riven anything, as he?

Doesn't mean he doesn't tho lol

And I do believe that Del attempts to rid us of Zaresh for good, and loses out in that battle.

And who better to comfort Riven in a time of such profound heartache than Zaresh?

Perhaps Zaresh manages to coax Riven into running away from Aerenth? Perhaps this is where hers and Vaela's stories overlap?

There is also the Drow!AU, but they are closer to siblings in relation in that verse. But our watered down sweet home Alabama has a shot, especially with Del not even in the picture. They both do not exactly like Avenzi, and would likely find common ground there. Also a lot of opportunity for Avenzi to try to pit them against each other—her favored daughter and her loathed step-son.

Sorry, I started thinking of them being put in sparring pits and being forced to fight. It'd be hot. And also would maybe lead to helping each other with their wounds later.

ANYWAY. Yeah. Deranged, this one.

[aroallow]

i found you from following #aroallo

there is indeed far too little slut representation aromantic tumblr. i vibe thus more with term like solopoly and relationship anarchy which are obviously not the same but are more useful to me irl

wow my first ask damn that’s crazy I’m famous guys 🙏🏽

I started rambling so it’s a long post.. putting it under the cut! (Gods I hope this works never tried it before it’ll be embarrassing if it doesn’t)

I love relationship anarchy! I think it’s such a great reclamation of aromantic identity that honestly benefits everyone. Sort of our special way of contributing to the greater community.

I’ve never heard of solopoly! I’m assuming we’re talking about non romantic polygamy? That’s what I found from searching it.. let me know if I’m wrong! It’s a super cool way of living! I’m pretty sure I’m ambigamous. But I do also love the idea of having a single committed sexual partner. I like the idea of it being held to the same standard as a traditional romantic relationship, and recognized with the same appreciation. Those are my thoughts on that.

Honestly, with my post I really did mean it in a more general sense. Not even in a case of aroallos being sluts “practically” (I’ve never had a consensual sexual partner, personally 😳), but rather, celebrating aromantic sexuality, rather than just excusing it (ex. “aroallos don’t just want sex they’re still people too!1!1!1!”). I want our representation to fully embrace ALL parts of our identity, not just give a model example that acts like a “gotcha” so we can be like “look! actually we ARE acceptable! take that!”

I want representation that is UNAPOLOGETICALLY SLUTTY. I don’t want to have to keep apologizing for my identity and justifying myself. Sexual attraction is not shameful, and it sure as hell isn’t shameful when it’s an aromantic experiencing it. It’s beautiful, and it is intrinsic to our identity and i love it.

I identify as aroallo instead of alloaro partially because I think it sounds better, but also because I’m still ashamed to prioritize my allosexuality as part of my identity. In reality, my allosexuality is more prominent to my identity than my aromanticism, but I’m still scared of that being the first thing I use to represent myself. I know it’s a minor matter of which syllable comes first in a word, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I’m working on being comfortable enough with myself to take charge of how I choose to IDENTIFY myself, practically

Anyways! I know not much of this connects to what you said, but I really appreciate you coming back to me about the things I’m sharing on here. Makes me feel heard and appreciated!

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Ok if you are gonna torture me then I gotta return the favor… I want to see some Zemo from you! Throwing out some prompts… unexpected gift, or reader receives gift that wasn’t meant for them, or maybe some naughty games at a holiday party? generic I know, but you’re so clever I wanna see what you got! 😍 feel free to ignore if it doesn’t spark anything tho!

Secret Santa

Note: . Liebling (darling)

Summery: You wish you hadn't gone to the office Christmas party.

Warning: 18 + Only, forced masturbation

Dark executive Zemo x employee Reader

🎁

Sharon dragged you back to the office against your will. You had ignored and rejected every reminder of the office Christmas party. You saw these people more than your actual family, so you didn't understand why she couldn't see you had reached your co-worker limit.

"Come on don't be antisocial. People already think your a bitch," she whispered already drunk off the cheap heavily spiked eggnog.

"I swear I am out the door as soon as this gift exchange is over." You frowned at her. Not only were you being forced to be here you had to spend what little money you had on a secret Santa. The limit was only twenty, but that was a bottle of wine and some Wendy's spicy nuggets.

"Grinch" she pouted. You rolled your eyes and watched as your only office friend was pulled into a group conversation. From the context it was about work. If anyone started in with you about work you would be adding that interaction to your next time sheet.

"Hi everyone its Time," Robin exclaimed over the karaoke mic. Thank god. She called out the names one by one and people walked over to get their gift. Laughter erupted at each gift and guess.

Your name was called with not too much fan fair. You were a virtual nobody especially given your status and department.

With a fake smile you walked up and grabbed your gift. "And who do you think this is from?" Robin sang pushing the mic on your mouth. You winced when the metal knocked against your lips. She was beat red and visibly embarrassed, quickly apologizing. The booze on her breath let you know she had reached her limit so you shrugged it off as an accident.

"Uhh..." You mumbled as you opened the gift bag and moved the colored paper around. "It's empty." You state closing the bag shut trying to hide your shock. The red flag should've been the weight, but you just assumed it was a scarf or something small. Not lingerie. To be precise a purple lacy see through bra and a string you could only presume to be panties.

"OK who is the party pooper that thought this was funny?" Robin pouted as the crowd booed. Robin tried to stop you from leaving the stage, but you were already off.

🎁

You shot a text to Sharon stating that you were heading out. You hadn't been drinking and didn't have to worry about HR stopping you and taking your keys away. Your secret Santa gift was regifted to the bottom of the trash can in the print room.

It started with unsigned notes left on your car, roses hidden in different locations at your desk and then escalated to calls to your extension. The number was always the same an internal extension, but the name that came across the screen was of someone that had left the company a while ago. You gave your usual greeting as you mindlessly answered, but when the familiar sound of heavy breathing came on you hung up.

It would be OK you reassured yourself. They will lose interest and you tried to help them along with that by changing a bit. No makeup. That wasn't too bad as it gave you more time to lay in bed each morning. Your clothes went from stylish to a more plain Jane loose and baggier fits. You weren't going to be meeting with clients and as long as you stayed within dress code what could anyone say.

Group lunches were a no go, instead you ate at your desk. The social outings gave you anxiety. You didn't know who to trust. What if they were sitting next to you, watching you, talking to you as if nothing was a miss.

When you did have to verbally interact with people you kept conversations short. Directing them to email you and go through the proper channels if they needed your help.

With all your changes you were labeled as mean. You didn't care, you did your job and did it well.

You knew you should've spoken up to HR, but HR was there to help the company not you. You didn't want to be labeled as the PS at the company. PS stood for problem starter, but the unofficial mean spread through the office was porn star. It didn't matter what the truth was somehow porn or illicit photos got associated with the unfortunate person. They became an office pariah, shaming them until their eventual departure from the company.

Problem starters had a hard time finding work else where. Natalia found that out the hard way. She was the last PS and the last you heard she had moved back to mother Russia.

🎁

Your name was called when you reached the elevator. You spun to find Zemo jogging up to you. The commercial relations executive was new to this country and company. Sharon found him charming, but you rarely interacted with him. You were surprised he even knew your name.

"I do apologize mien liebling(my darling)" Zemo said in his thick accent.

"Yesterday and unfortunately still now I keep coming across a weird error in our system. I came by your desk, but I think I just missed you. Is it possible you could assist me now? I know that this is unorthodox, but I want to be able to communicate with some clients in Singapore and Russia as their work week starts on our Sunday."

Any task you did needed to be initiated by a work order. The system was setup to monitor what needed to be done, who accessed sensitive material and how long it took you to resolve it.

"Umm..." you wanted to shut this down, but Zemo was an executive and even if you had the balls to say no you worried about blow back.

You had slipped out early, just to avoid questions about your attendance at the office party. Now your eagerness to start your weekend and get away was coming back to bite you on the ass.

"Please. I am sure it won't take long I'm sure."

🎁

You reluctantly followed him to his office, cursing yourself for not being more assertive.

"Did you not enjoy the festivities," he inquired as he closed the door behind you. The parties music came in low and muffled through the closed door.

"Oh no I'm not much of a party person."

"I see," he said while casually walking behind you.

"Ok can you unlock your computer and pull it up?"

"Right away mien liebling."

He rounded you and grazed you slightly before taking his seat. You brushed off his misstep by presuming he must've been tipsy too. Everyone at the party was to some degree aside from yourself.

"Oh.. before I forget I have something for you," Zemo announced suddenly. You watched him with a curious brow as he leaned over and opened a drawer on the opposite side of his desk. Zemo pulled out an elongated black box and placed it in front of you.

"What's this?" You looked at him confused.

"The rest of your gift. The first gift was just for the festivities. I was quiet surprised to find those garments at such a price." He chuckled. He didn't wait for you to open the box. Instead Zemo flipped open the tab revealing what laid inside. A large purple dildo sat atop a satin encasing. You were horrified while Zemo looked unapologetic.

"Do you like it mien liebling(my darling)? I thought it matched perfectly with the lingerie set."

You didn't register what he was saying as you were too busy keeping your eyeballs from falling out of your head. Zemo moved to touch you, his fingertips grazing your pant leg as you move back reflexively.

He had been your admirer, but why? You could count the times you interacted with this man on one hand and each time was strictly work related.

"You seem confused mien liebling. I have made my feelings clear have I not?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you.

"Hmm... I see maybe something was lost in translation in my letters. Well allow me to make my feelings clear."

"I need to leave," you cut him off. You didn't want to hear anymore. Whatever feelings he had you did not reciprocate. When he made a move to stand you spun and rushed toward the door.

"Come away from the door mien liebling(my darling)." Zemo demanded just as your hand touched the door.

You felt his approach and you swiftly turned to face him. You had nothing but your purse. It wasn't heavy enough to do damage, but that wouldn't stop you from trying.

"If you touch me I swear I will scream," you hissed at him. He smiled and chuckled at your bravado. You could hear people just out side the door, but he looked unfazed by your threat.

"I've never seen you so angry... It's cute," he smirked at you. "But your far from stupid." Zemo's playful grin flattened into a line.

"How is your mother?" He asked flatly. "Tell me if I were to fire you right now would you have enough money to still pay for her treatments?" Zemo tilted his head as he inquired.

You never talked about your mother to anyone at work not even Sharon. Your mothers medical expenses ate away at the bulk of your finances each month.

"Please....please I'm sorry I need this job," you pleaded very defeated. You felt your eyes well at the thought of losing your job and the means to take care of your mother. The room began to spin as you fell into despair.

"Let's make a wager." Zemo suggested, stepping closer raising your chin with his finger. "If you last five minutes with my little gift, I will pay for your mothers medical bills and keep this incident between us. Never to be talked about again." Zemo cooed in his thick accent. The offer though disgusting had you considering it.

"And what if I can't?" You asked weakly, almost too afraid to hear the answer.

🎁

"Proceed my liebling(my darling)," he said looking at his watch. You waited, standing before him with his desk at your back. Zemo pushed his chair until it hit the back wall. You took your time pulling off your shirt and undoing your pants. The cool air of his office nipped at your skin as you carefully and methodically folded your clothes, placing them off to the side. You purposely fumbled with your bra. You felt embarrassed while Zemo's face stayed unreadable.

"I'll take those my liebling." Zemo commanded as you rolled your panties down your legs.

You kicked them over to him and you cringed as he picked them up, and inhaled before pocketing them. Zemo motioned for you to continue. You hopped on top of his desk, your bare ass pushed objects from the desktop to the floor. Zemo hummed at the sight of your exposed sex as you rose your legs, spreading them apart, positioning your feet on the opposite edges of the desk.

He licked his bottom lip hungrily as you tried to push through. Two minutes had to have passed you were pretty sure. With your legs spread open before him you took the vibrator into your hand. It was comically thick and long with bumps and ridges making various patterns down the side. From the looks of it you weren't even sure if you could fit it all in.

*You can do this. It will be over soon.*

You tried to block him out as you began to push the vibrator in. It was hard to bare his silent watching so you tried to block him out as you pushed the vibrator inside. The intrusion began to stretch you painfully making you bite down on your bottom lip as you forced yourself to take it. You whimpered the deeper you pushed in, your cunt slowly slickening the further you go.

"Let's not delay my liebling, turn it on and I will start the clock."

You looked at him shocked. He hadn't started the timer so you were waisting time for nothing.

"Let's try setting one." Zemo ordered. There were several settings and you hoped that you would not be forced to try all of them. Swallowing thickly you flicked on the switch, the vibration pulsed through your body. The soothing rhythm catching you off guard as you moved it.

"You are taking it so well," Zemo praised as you whimpered. Heat lapped at your core, pushing back the shame you felt before. Zemo stroked himself as he cheered you on. for taking so much of the purple toy. You breathed heavy as you tried to last, but when he asked you to go up a setting you felt yourself coming apart.

Zemo chanted at you in his native tongue, the husky accent looking back up at him, dazed with lust. A deep urge to feel what he had underneath grew. You wanted him inside of you, not this toy.

"Zemo-"

"Not even five minutes... You lose"

🎁

[lucidtobio]

drawing on their hands !

w. ushijima , semi , goshiki

[ fluff , gn!reader ]

ushijima wakatoshi

you guys sit next to each other in your japanese history class

aka the most boring class of them all -_-

usually when you lose focus, you take out whatever colored pen you can find and start doodling on yourself

but with wakatoshi next to you,,,

a brand new canvas !!

scooting your desk over slightly, you nudge ushijima with your pen

"hey. hey, wakatoshi!"

he just like, looked over at you and blinked

you made grabby hands and flicked your eyes down to his hand, which was resting on his desk

ushijima's eyebrows furrowed bc he's a little dense

"give me your hand, dummy" you harshly whispered

despite not quite understanding your motive, he gave you his hand anyways

uncapping the pink pen, you pressed the tip against his flesh

one hand laying lightly over his fingers, the other gripping a pen, you started drawing a small cat

wakatoshi's curious gaze was fixed on your movements on his hand

the two of you spared occasional glances towards the teacher at the front of the classroom, but that was all

other classmates had been dozing off or talking in hushed whispers

"(y/n),," "yeah?"

you looked up at him, faces only a few inches apart

the olive haired boy sucked in a small breath while you appeared unphased

"can you draw a volleyball?"

giggling quietly, you nodded and made a circle right next to a patch of stars

a few minutes later, his whole hand (including his fingers) was covered in pink ink and your art

"do you like it?" "of course"

semi eita

sitting next to semi at lunch was,, interesting?

the third years from the team sat there, as well as a few other mutual friends

usually you were pretty spacey, not paying attention to the conversation

tendou (and occasionally semi) liked to tease you about your dreamy gaze

though you always had your special blue pen with you at all times

you and semi had been shopping together when you saw it in a stationary store, and he bought the cute tool for you

at the moment, you were sitting at the table, fiddling the pen between your nimble fingers

clicking the coil repeatedly sparked an idea

you quickly snatched eita's hand, eliciting a small "hey-" from him

running the ink over his skin, you started to draw a flower curling around the curve of his palm

semi's cheeks tinged pink at the feeling of your smaller hand gripping his wrist to keep him still

tendou's attentive eyes were drawn to you two

he didn't hesitate to silently grab the attention of the other table members and motion to where you and semi were seated

at this point, you were just absentmindedly doodling nonsense on his skin

forgetting who it was, you lazily scribbled out his name in a pretty font

"ah, (y/n)-" "hmm?"

you were yanked out of your thoughts before locking eyes with eita

a small smirk played on his lips as your face conveyed confusion

"my name, huh? do you have some secret feelings for me, (y/n)?" the ash-haired boy teased

a harsh blush colored your cheeks as you detached your fingers from him

"shut up, baka."

needless to say, semi was stabbed by the same pen that decorated his hand a few moments later

goshiki tsutomu

okay, let's start by saying that if you got within two miles of him, he would be so flustered

you are doing partner work in your biology class and sitting at the two people tables (idk if that makes sense but hopefully yk what i mean t-t)

the tables themselves weren't that large in the first place

so your thighs were already touching underneath the tabletop

goshiki's heart raced as soon as you sat down, bare thigh brushing against his clothed one

"hi tsutomu~" you greeted, placing your notebooks and stationary on the table

"h-hey"

poor boy can't think straight around you

the period was spent completing a lab with your tablemate; if you finished early you could just hangout

with your smarts and his motivation it wasn't surprising you guys finished first

a slightly awkward silence hung over you two as you both waited for the other to speak up

"so-" "do you-"

opening and closing your mouths at the same time, goshiki quickly attempted to hide his blush by looking away

you snickered at his cute behavior before grabbing his hand

"woah there (y/n). you can't do that,, people might think we're..." goshiki mumbled as you started to draw lines down his fingers

he trailed off, entranced by the way your marker moved against his tanned flesh

finally the lines started to come together to form bones

your face leaned close to where you were working, nose almost bumping against the back of goshiki's hand

when you finally finished your artwork you sat back and sent the bowlcut boy a beaming smile

"done! do you like it? is it too much?"

tsutomu aggressively shook his head, blabbing something along the lines of "i love it as long as you did it"

a soft smile graced your lips as you ruffled his hair slightly

"ahh (y/n) why :(" pls he's too cute skldjfkl

"promise me you'll hit your best spikes with this hand, okay?" you said sternly, holding out your pinky to him

goshiki quickly linked his little finger with yours and nodded

"of course! i have to be the best ace there is!"

coach washijo is gonna beat his ass when he sees what's on tsutomu's hand-

anything for you tho <3

a/n: this was way too fun to write, even if it didn't turn out good kekek

⤿ written 3.25.2021

⤿ masterlist

[meltingpotimagines]

Boyfriend!Kirishima

this boy

would fall head over heels for you so fast

just one day around you and he’s smitten

surprisingly not that obvious about it

he’s just a little happier and energetic around you

denki knows him well enough that he noticed and bakugo but he couldn’t care less

does his best to strike up a conversation with you

he really likes learning more about you

you’re just so cool and interesting to him

suggested a weekly game night just so he had an excuse to see you more

he knew you love hanging at the dorms so there was no way you’d miss out on this

what he didn’t know was you love it bc of him

i mean sure it was so much fun hanging with denki, and you had a blast jamming out to music with jiro and mina, but nothing beat being around eijirou

he’s just so upbeat and nice and funny

and kinda really cute but anyway

sat between todoroki and bakugo (which just happened to conveniently be directly across from you)

a vote had been taken on which game to play, and jenga won by a couple of votes

mina tossed out the idea for every piece you pulled, you had to choose truth or dare

honestly there was so much potential for this to go wrong and everyone knew it but i mean risk = fun right?

you’d all made bakugo promise not to blow up the whole tower if he got frustrated or lost 

all the truths were silly and the dares dumb

until it got to you

you successfully pulled a piece and decided it wouldn’t be too risky to choose dare, considering no one had dared anything t r u l y stupid

and immediately regretted it when denki gave you a mischievous grin

“i dare you to kiss kirishima”

eijirou stiffened as a blush spread across your cheeks

it’s not manly to force someone to kiss him!!

“you don’t have to-” “no... no it’s okay. i’m no wuss.”

just when he thought he couldn’t like you more

nervously watched as you got up and went around to where he was sitting

stiffened even m o r e as you gave his cheek a quick peck

“awww c’monnnn, at least do it on the lips!” denki you brat i love you

your blushed deepened as you two made eye contact

“is... is that okay?” “only if you want to”

he is a g e n t l e m a n and would never want you to do something you didn’t want to

well

i guess you did want to

because you kissed him

and ohhhh boy

sparks went f l y i n g

the electricity between you two made denki’s powers look like nothing more than static shock

the cheers and wolf whistles were nothing but white noise as you and eijiro stared at each other, shocked

“wow” “w o w”

best believe this boy took you out the very next day

nothing extravagant, just a cute lil ice cream date

he likes the little dates the best

they're definitely a daily occurrence until long after you two became official

but even after that you two started having frequent movie and cuddle nap dates

yes cuddle naps are dates and no one can convince me otherwise

prefers to be big spoon but is down to be little spoon

if he’s big spoon, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you into him, your face buried in his chest, his face buried in your hair partially because he really likes the scent of your shampoo

if you’re big spoon, he’ll snake his arms around your waist and bury his face in your neck, occasionally nuzzling and pressing kisses

will always make sure all the gel is washed out of his hair first so there's no risk of you getting poked

which is extra great bc then you get to play with his hair!

he loves the feeling of your fingers weaving through the strands and your nails on his scalp

also really likes when you lay on top of him

just gazes as you adoringly as he scratches your back

his heart swells if you fall asleep

knowing you trust him that much makes him feel so happy

plus you just look so cute when you’re asleep

bonus points if you have that cute soft snore

loves playing video games with you whether you actually play with him or just watch and support him

if you play with him, you're always his top priority no matter the game

battle games? he w i l l protect you

social simulation games? he'll do his best to help get you everything you want

puzzle games? you two are a t e a m you will figure this out together

if you're just there as support, you're still a priority

prefers when you sit on his lap/between his legs

will periodically kiss your cheek/the top of your head

doesn't matter how involved in the game he is, he will never fail to press a kiss

if you fall asleep, he'll make sure to quiet down so he won't accidentally wake you up

it's the funniest thing to anyone who catches him tho

he'll be absolutely raging but in the most hushed voice you can imagine or letting out victorious whoops but in Tiny

once covered your ears the best he could with his arm so he could be a little louder yelling at sero

mina managed to catch that on camera and posted it, tagging the two of you

have i mentioned this boy is a simp?

bc he is a Simp™

anything you want, you got

he sees something that reminds him of you? immediately bought it to give to you

half of his hoodies were already in your closet within the first week

he thinks you look so cute in them, especially if they're too big for you

the sight of you practically swimming in his clothes make his heart burst

periodically switches the half he gave you for the half he kept

basically when the ones he gave you no longer smells like him

it's great for him too bc the ones he get back smell like you

will pick wildflowers to put in your hair/behind your ear when you two go on walks

l o v e s giving you piggyback rides

also loves picking you up to carry you bridal style

even if you two are just standing

he just likes your smile and the way your eyes sparkle when he does

kisses your forehead a lot

sometimes quick little pecks

sometimes gentle, lingering kisses

whatever matches his mood in the moment

likes play-fighting with you

like fake wrestling

definitely lets you win sometimes

partially bc he'd feel bad if he always won but also bc he thinks it's adorable when you look down at him with that grin, so proud of yourself for beating Red Riot

was the first to say "i love you"

didn't really think much about it

he looked at you one day and felt his heart swell so he just kinda said it

but somehow it felt even more special??

like the way he said it sounded so sweet and genuine

as if it was the most natural thing in the world to say

and for him it was

he couldn't imagine not saying it

he loves you so why not say it?

especially considering just how m u c h he loves you

from then on says it all the time

you're cuddling? "i love you"

playing games? "i love you"

making tea? "i love you"

he just has to say it

he will as many times as needed to make sure you understand just how much he does

[sparklingpax]

In Relativity

A/n:

-I could not, for the life of me, figure out a better title. You get that. Not even sure if that's what I mean and I'm so sorry. But I am also not taking suggestions

-being absolutely serious, a good 90% of this was written during my health class and/or lunch periods in which I wasn't hungry.

-i am so sorry for typos and grammar stuff I probably fucked up, please please try ignore it if you see it, I'll fix it eventually 😳

-this is so incredibly long, I'm realizing. It's like 30+ pages...sorry--

-a few specific details I'd like to point out:

no, this is not 110% accurate to Masterforce canon, tho I tried my darndest. Part of the reason is lack of clear answers about certain questions I have or limited access to sources that would help me figure out details of their pasts more accurately. The other reason is that I'm also actively choosing not to adhere to some details because I was ultimately writing for fun and experimenting with tone and how I perceive these characters so...do not lecture me about something I screwed up, I am literally just vibing ok

This is still set in Masterforce canon, however. This has nothing (I repeat, nothing) to do with any of the marvel stuff/American comic stuff that involved these characters. It's my understanding that the versions of these characters in Masterforce are their own separate entity to the comic stuff, I am trying to stick only to the anime and stuff connected to that. so....yea

It is my headcanon that I will absolutely keep that the Pretenders have in their files/any technical stuff their "full names" (e.g: "Cloudburst"), but refer to each other with their nicknames (going back to that example, "Phoenix"). It's like, they use both names whenever and don't mind either way. Hence......that.

I wanted to write something about Landmine, literally that was it. I guess overall I'd call it semi-Landmine-centric....Idk but I enjoyed it, he's a cool dude 👀

this is in fact, where i finally reveal myself as a person who also Lowkey ships Lander/Diver and also the idea that they have this...very complicated relationship with each other, which is why they've never really gotten together....I hc that they actually do finally get together at some point during the events of Masterforce (which I also, really want to write). Yes, this is very similar to them in my AU except it's not as complicated as the one in canon. If that makes sense 😳 Also, before you come for my head, it is a healthy relationship in the sense that there has never been any malice between them, and no instances of causing the other serious pain in any way. They like each other a lot, but both don't really know...how to go about it. Idk y'all but ykw I know what I mean. 

I tried so hard with terminology here but my dumb ass doesn't know anything about tech or aircrafts or whatever so...deal with it but don't point it out I'll evaporate--

Upon much consideration, I decided to end it somewhere like, before events of masterforce. I'd say a couple years maybe?? Like 15?? (So tha puts us at 2005, which as I'm writing this omg that's my birth year oop--) So just. assume stuff happened and...following will be the other canon stuff....i guess o//o

So...yea, that should be everything I wanted to mention!

Enjoy (? Or don't? ;w;)....I wrote this for fun & I kinda liked it I guess, so here I am sharing it...lmk what you think if you want, please keep it positive, I get so extremely nervous sharing my writing sdjdsjsdj 😳

...um...so...t-thanks 🥰

That’s what Landmine had been told the first day of Cybertronian Military Academy. 

///

Above all else, a good spark stands for justice, protects all life, and does what’s right. 

It was a phrase taught and repeated every day without fail, quickly memorized well before the end of first semester in that first year.

And when he’d entered Autobot ranks within mere weeks of his graduation amidst the start of the war, it was a phrase shouted to his unit by their commanding officer, only slightly altered this time. 

“Above all else, a good Autobot stands for justice, protects all life, and does what’s right.”

Yes, that was it. Just a slight change. 

But he always wondered if it meant to subconsciously induce very particular thoughts.

‘And if we Autobots do good, then the ones who aren’t us must be doing evil.’ 

To name a few of the supposed many, that was the Decepticons, the rogues, and the subspecies of the planet who didn’t feel inclined to participate in such a “selfish conflict,” as one commentator had put it during a newscast. They were the evil ones, preached the drill sergeants and captains.

The logical conclusion, as it could be surmised. No one said anything about moral. 

As for Landmine himself, he had no problem with “standing for justice,” however vague that was. Considering the lack of any attention, it seemed he was in line with that value, not standing out from the rest and all. 

The case was the same with “protecting all life.” After all, that was a clearer command, and obviously, the noble thing to do. Landmine liked his friends, nature, animals. Of course he’d stand to protect them. 

But for the last one, in the in-betweens to his drills and assignments, throughout all the years of his schooling and the time spent in the trenches of battles, he often wondered what it meant. To “do what’s right.” 

What was a…‘good Autobot’ anyway? 

He could recall the answers he’d received. 

“It means you follow orders,” one older bot spat, laughing. He had then put the ratty cigar back in his mouth and turned away. Clearly, the conversation was over. 

“A good Autobot?” Echoed a solemn youth, shining his shotgun. “Well its in the words you’ve just said! A good Autobot stands for justice, and they protect all–” 

…you get the idea.

“There are none,” was all a small-framed purple bot croaked, taking another sip from his oil can. He’d died on the field, screaming in agony, about one week later. 

And there were more answers, and Landmine still couldn’t figure out his own. But there were more pressing matters in his mind. Firstly, the matter of leaving this dull, doomed unit. 

See, he was a bot who enjoyed adventure, thought himself particularly good in battle. He was known for good one-liners, for his looks, and his sharp shots. This wasn’t the place for him. At the risk of being prideful and conceited, he often thought to himself, that this was no place for him to die. 

It was ugly, style-less, depressing, cold, damp…boring. 

For years, he hoped for more, and finally one day, he got it. 

“Hey!” 

…

“Oh yeah? Well you can take your attitude, and shove it up your tailpipe, Xy.” 

“‘Hey’ yourself, you're not part of this, so butt out you aft–” 

“Aft? Excuse me? I’ve a good mind to report you for that kind of slander and harassment!”

“What?! I didn’t slander you!! I'm not even harassing you, I just insulted you, but--but that's subjective, a-and I didn’t say –”

“Shut up, you two! There’s someone knocking.”

Landmine lifted his gaze from the book he was reading when he heard Klint shout for everyone to quiet down. 

As usual, it was another night in his section base–of the hot-head rookie Cinderflame being aggressive towards “two-word” Xy, and then somehow, getting into an argument with the self-important, self-declared “rulebook” of their subunit, Max. 

But the knocking at their door continued, louder this time. Cinderflame started to protest, and was quickly silenced a quick cuff to the back of his head by Max. 

Landmine closed his book very slowly and sat up in his bunk, watching as Klint quietly got up and headed to the door, activating his gun. Meanwhile, everyone else began to tense up, including Landmine. 

It wasn’t unheard of for mutinies to happen, for somebot to snap and go on a killing rampage, or for the enemy to have infiltrated and quietly taken command of a base. Any number of things could be behind the door, as it wasn’t normal to get a knock on the door at this hour of the night. 

But to their relief, the entity behind the door identified itself. 

“14-E, I order you–open up! Right now!”

Klint lowered his gun and sighed, more an annoyed sigh than a relieved one. They all knew who’s voice that was, and Landmine wanted–and was sure he had–no part in whatever was happening. 

‘Racker,’ mouthed Cinderflame in Xy’s direction, who rolled his optics and went back to organizing bullet shells. 

The other “rulebook” bot, except Racker was official, not self-declared. 

“I’ll mark you all for infractions!” He shouted in an attempt at an assertive tone, pounding unceasingly at the door. 

“I’ll mark you with my fist,” muttered Klint, trudging over. As he did so, Cinderflame snickered, then looked to Max, who was trying his best to keep a serious expression. Even he had no respect for the elected section head, but didn’t want to admit that. 

Well, I’m out, thought Landmine as he fell against his berth and opened his book again, hoping to get back to the story, detaching from the group.

He had no such luck, of course. 

The door opened at last with a high-pitched squeal of old metal, and the section head marched in, shouting for them to stand at attention. Below, Cinderflame gave the beginning of a groan, but it was cut short with the sound of someone elbowing him. 

 See, there was no such procedure in the rulebook, Landmine had discovered a while ago. But, there was also no point in raising that argument now. Begrudgingly, the group all followed the order and lined up at the door. 

Marching in stiffly, the grey-plated bot looked them up and down, a sharp look in his eyes. Then, he stated his business. 

Landmine was wanted in the unit Commander’s quarters.

For a moment, he considered it was some sort of elaborate prank, but that thought was quite fleeting. Jokes of that kind weren’t common around this sector, if at all. 

And if Racker was involved, well…

Doubt he knows what a joke is. 

“Well don’t stand there, move your metal hide!”

“Yes, sir!”

He felt side-eyed gazes of pity on him as he left the line. He felt them follow him as he walked out the door closely behind Racker, and into the barren, darkened clearing. But he was far more curious than worried. He could have easily run ahead to those quarters himself. 

Leaving Racker in the dust was quite easy, anyway. 

…

Racker, expression solemn and blank as ever, stopped at the white door and jerked his helm in the direction of the entrance, then folded his arms and turned forward, as if Landmine was no longer there. 

Go in. Alright. 

Landmine smirked to himself, then reached over and pushed the door open. 

Well. If I’m court-martialed or something, at least I’ll finally be put out of my misery. 

“Good evening, sir,” Landmine said, striding into the room. “You asked for me?” 

He’d never been in a commander’s quarters, and just taking one look at the state of it, he could infer why.

Something to do with the cleanliness of it, the quality of the tools in it…lower-ranking officers certainly had no place here, he could guess.

We belong in our cramped spaces, eating stale oil in our shared, low-rank misery. 

And finally, his optics had fallen on the commander himself, Swipecatch. 

Come to think of it, Landmine was sure he’d only seen the bot once. Or maybe he had a new paintjob? 

I’d like a new paintjob. 

He saluted and straightened his posture before the silver-blue-plated bot finally looked up from a manila-colored folder with messy scrawling and red stamps. It looked like it was important. 

It also looked like a processor-ache to decipher. 

“I did. You’re Landmine, right?” The commander spoke a medium tone, reaching for another paper on the side of the desk and picking up a slim, red pen.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re a Pretender, are you not?”

"Alright," he murmured, beginning to write something, before glancing back up at the younger bot. “At ease,” he finally added, and Landmine was glad for it.

His gaze was immediately back on the paper as he started to write something into the blank lines. Some more silence followed, broken only by the sound of the pen against the paper, and Landmine watched as he swiftly filled out every blank space, signed his name, then looked back up again. 

“I am told I have such capabilities, sir.” 

“And have you been to training for it?”

“Only at a minimum level, as per my curriculum at the academy, sir.”

“Have you yet attained your third form?”

“I have not been provided any such opportunity up to this point, sir.” 

“Uh-huh…”

Swipecatch nodded, seeming to come to some kind of internal conclusion and writing something in the corner of the paper, before stamping the paper and folding it in half. Landmine began to wonder if he was being disciplined. 

“Soldier, you have been requested to join a special dispatch team made only of three other Pretenders like yourself.” 

Or…this. 

“Now, I can’t imagine you love this place enough to do this, but you do have the option to decline and remain at your post here, as it will be a very dangerous, long-term assignment, far from Cybertron and even this very sector.

“You four will only be provided one ship and instructions to report to us when asked, as we are not able to provide further resources. You will be sent into space to track Decepticon ships anywhere deemed fit to assign your team.”

He eyed Landmine up and down, who stood motionless, staring unwaveringly at his commander as he waited for him to continue. So he did.  

“Your...commander will be a recent academy graduate, Metalhawk. I am not at liberty to share anything more about him than this.” 

He shifted back in his chair, tapping his pen against the table.

“Since I take your…silence…to be an acceptance of this offer…” he said slowly, holding out the folded paper and letting Landmine take it. “I am giving you this now, so that you may board the next transport ship that comes in tomorrow, at first light.”

Landmine unfolded the paper a bit, catching sight of the orders written in fine print above the uneven writing of his commander. 

Previous commander, actually. 

“This is not a promotion, merely a new assignment that my higher-ups feel you are equipped for. There will also be a training period with your peers starting the moment you are all gathered at your launch site. Do you understand?”

“Fully, sir!”

“Alright, then. Dismissed.” 

“Thank you, sir.”

 He vaguely wondered if the sound the commander made after that was a laugh or a scoff. 

 Landmine saluted again, and left the room, clutching the paper in his digits, which had begun to vibrate with excitement. 

Suddenly, all the years of stale oil and bleak death around him, putting up with various groupings that never seemed to work out–with this doomed unit–seemed worth it. They’d been part of some plan, something Landmine had to go through for a while before this, before…

 Destiny. It has finally called my name. 

…

“Mighty lucky, aren’t you?” Klint remarked, leaning against the wall and watching Landmine stacking a couple books. 

Landmine simply looked up and grinned.

 “Stay alive,” Xy mumbled from his bunk, not even shifting position to look at the team as they gathered in the center of the space. 

 His inspirational capacities truly sway the spark. 

“Thank you, Xy. I’ll do my best.”

The mech raised a thumbs-up, making no further comment. 

“This is favoritism!”

“It is not. It’s the will of our higher command.”

“Well, don’t you think it’s unfair?”

“Shut your trap!” Max made a fist and took a step towards Cinderflame. “Questioning high command could be treason!”

“Oh shove off, you annoying glitch.”

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Yeah, I said it!" 

Klint groaned, facepalming slowly. Xy, in his bunk, put on some headphones and inched closer to the wall.

As usual, not even an hour after wakeup calls, and the two were at it again. But while Landmine conceded he wouldn't miss the unwarranted noise, he knew he would miss being able to laugh internally at their stupidity. 

Cinderflame kicked at the ground and glared at Landmine, who was closing his bag and picking it up. 

“We have to stay in the scrap," he muttered, "but he gets to be special! He gets to–”  

Knocking at the door quieted the room. 

In the brief silence, Landmine wondered how pompous he'd sound telling Cinderflame that he was, in fact, a special bot. 

He decided it wasn't worth the breath.

"It's time to go!" Came the voice from behind the steel.

Landmine stood tall, strapping the bag to his back and heading outside, without a second look to his scrappy unit, who no doubt would forget his existence quite soon. 

“Landmine?” The gruff, unfamiliar mech asked, looking at the Pretender. 

“That’s me.” Landmine then noticed the markings on the sides of his Autobot insignia, certifying him as a higher-ranking officer. “That’s me, sir,” he revised evenly.  

The officer narrowed his yellow-green optics, almost skeptically. Then he spoke again. “We’re driving a while, two hours at longest. You fueled yet?”

Landmine nodded, feeling his excitement start to build. 

Naturally, the place where any transports or supply ships landed would be miles and miles from any camp, for security reasons. Only superior officers would know supply drop-off locations. One could imagine such things were carefully coordinated long before a ship's arrival.

It was then that Landmine recalled he’d never once been on a supply run.

And, he guessed, he'd never find out what it was like. But he was cool with that.

“Right. Let’s move out, then. And stay close to me.”

That won’t be a problem, sir, Landmine thought, excited for the opportunity to spin his wheels. 

He also thought himself quite proficient in the art of speeding in style.

They both transformed, then sped to the entrance of the barracks. The drive took about an hour, quickly clearing miles of dry, uneven land, until at last, coming upon a ridge, the tip of a large, grey mass could be seen.

He could feel the vibrations of anticipation–of excitement!–growing as the mass became more and more like the shape of a transport ship–his ticket out of this forsaken place. 

Briefly, he began to wonder what the new team was like, what the ship and its resources provided would be, where they'd be assigned first…

Will I see my new commander’s face more than once or twice, whoever it is? 

And at last, they rolled down the sandy-brown rocks and onto the clearing, below the massive overhang of the ship. Landmine could hardly contain himself, and transformed as soon as his wheels came to a smooth halt. 

His superior officer also transformed, drawing up next to him, folding his arms again.

"Well. Off you go." 

He offered a brisk pat on the shoulder pad before trudging off to the left and calling out to one of the smaller mechs in the distance. Landmine reached into the bag strapped to him and fished out the paper before marching up the boarding plate. 

Landmine made it through the security check easily, papers identified, baggage approved, and he found the area in the cargo hold where he was to remain for the duration of the ride. 

“You will not leave this area until we have reached the designated location. We will use force if you cause any trouble. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, sir.”

A cargo hold… 

Well…it was a free ship ride during a war.

Landmine waited for the guard to leave, then walked over and sat down against the wall, well within the space he’d been told to occupy. He held his bag close to his chestplates, wondered if a full power-off would be a good idea, or if the ride would be too short for that. 

It seemed they weren’t going to allow him that information, either. 

 Ah, well, they’ll just have to wake me, then. Who knows if I’ll get a moment’s rest where we’re going anyway? 

 And with a quiet whirring, his systems slowed and he leaned his helm against the wall, slipping into a peaceful powerdown. 

…

It seemed the guard wouldn’t have to come and wake Landmine after all, as the ship came to a halt at its destination with a large thump that shook the ship down to the nails in the wallplates. 

Landmine was instantly ripped from his powerdown, jolted awake as he was thrown forward and then smacked back against the wall again when the vehicle finally halted. Rubbing his helm rather drowsily, he gave a small pout. 

Whoever’s driving should have their piloting license revoked. 

But he immediately recalled where he was and what he was doing, and the excitement returned, grasping his entire body in its hold. Quickly, he grabbed his bag and scrambled to his feet, waiting for someone to come and let him out. 

Be cool, be calm, you’re acting like a giddy sparkling. 

 Right. Steady motions, smooth words. Just as usual. 

And finally, someone did come. Actually, Landmine realized upon listening closer, there were…two sets of footfalls. He wondered if they were maintenance bots, or maybe a pair of workers come to unload the cargo hold, not permit Landmine to leave yet. 

But he remained still, listening to the footsteps, coming closer and closer until–

“He’s in here. You’re…assuming responsibility before he reaches the camp, sir?” 

It was the same guard from before. But then, the other bot with him spoke. 

 “Of course. You know higher-ups don’t give information about assignments, leading to accidents and the like.”

Odd. Was it one of his new teammates? 

He must be higher-ranking than me to have that guard call him “sir.” Or maybe I’m being moved up a few–no, wait. Swipecatch said this isn’t a promotion. But then, why–

Suddenly, the door opened with a weighty hissing noise, and the yellow light from the halls fell upon Landmine, who’d been getting used to the blue shadows of this cargo area. He immediately turned and saluted, watching as the guard walked in first, looked around, then stepped aside. 

In walked a yellow-plated bot, who took one look around, then put a servo on the shoulder pad of the guard. 

“You can go if you like. I gather you’ve more important things to get to, and I know the way off the ship.”

With a small smile and a salute, the guard turned and headed out the door. 

Landmine watched, somewhat amused, as the yellow mech leaned his head out the doorway, calling a thanks to the guard before turning back to Landmine with an awkward kind of smile. 

He actually thanked that guard. How interesting. 

Landmine returned the smile, a little more confidently. 

“Right. Um,” the bot took a deep breath and walked up to Landmine, offering his servo for a handshake. 

“My name is Metalhawk. I will be your new commander. Your other teammates are already aboard the ship.”

 Optics flitting from the outstretched servo to the earnest, blue optics staring back at him, Landmine was beginning to realize something. 

“I understand any previous commanders you’ve served under might have made a point on formalities, but I’m more interested in forming a good team than being addressed as ‘sir’ and the like. So, if you don’t mind, I hope we’ll get to know one another better with time.”

And that realization, was that this had been the right decision indeed, accepting this mission.

To be fair, anything would have been better than staying to fight in the scrapheap of a place he’d previously been.

With that…team of characters to live or die beside.

But Metalhawk seemed to be normal, perhaps even kind.

Plus, if his intuition wasn’t off, most captains, generals, and commanders were on the older side, but this bot…

He must be good to be a commander this young. 

Landmine took his servo and shook it firmly. 

“Glad to be serving with you, Hawk. I’m Landmine.” 

 At the nickname, Metalhawk gave a little grin, seeming to like it. 

 “Alright then, follow me.”

With a friendly chuckle, he headed for the door and immediately started to describe the other two bots Landmine was soon to meet. As they headed down the halls and out of the ship, he quickly learned that an he'd be in the company of two fliers–including his commander–and one sea-faring bot.

An interesting and even balance of alt-modes.

 “...and this is our ship.”

They stopped, and Landmine found himself before a huge mass of shining, silver and white metal. The daylight bounced off it gorgeously, edging the ship in glittery light. The green-blue windows looked as jewels, without a weathering mark or scratch in sight. 

The softer-toned blue highlights on the side plating of the vessel led his eye to the elegantly-painted Autobot symbol on the front hood. 

They might have been given the one ship only, but by Primus, was it a beauty.

Perhaps those old generals weren't all so selfish. 

It could have been some old prison ship with extra canons strapped to it, after all. 

This guy's lucky to be commander and score a ship like this. Something tells me Swipecatch wouldn't know what this is like, and he's been in the game longer.

He almost chuckled aloud before remembering where he was. 

A platform began to lower from the ship’s underside, which hung a little higher than their helms. Standing on it was a familiar face, and Landmine couldn’t help but perk up and exclaim–

“Diver!” 

“Lander!!” 

He felt a warmth surge through him. At last, he was seeing a familiar face again.

Someone he'd really thought, he'd never see again.

“‘Lander’?” Metalhawk echoed, taking a step up to the platform. 

The machinery gave a smooth whirring noise and the platform began to rise off the ground and back into the ship. Landmine could only laugh, letting Waverider answer for him. 

“We were arguing once,” the dark-plated mech said, leaning closer to Landmine. He spoke as if telling a weighty secret. “So I started calling him ‘Lander,’ like for his land-based vehicle mode. He retaliated, calling me ‘Diver.’”

“Because you have a water-based alt.”

“Exactly!”

“‘Diver’ is infinitely more creative, you have to give me that,” Landmine cut in.

“But ‘Lander’ is more direct!” Waverider protested. 

“It’s the most obvious kind of name!”

The three of them shared a laugh. 

That was most of the story, anyway. 

As the three headed down the dimly-lit hallway, Waverider kept talking. He started to tell their commander about their shared academy days, about the classes they took, the things they trained for. 

After a point, he couldn’t quite hear what the mech was talking about, as his mind began to wander.

Landmine recalled in flashes of memory, the moments he'd left out of the story...the days following that ‘argument,’ when they’d made up, and both their ‘insult names’ became somewhat like…pet names.

Calling in the hallways, covertly shifting places during inspections or exercises to stand with one another, sneaking into each other’s dorms, speaking in hushed tones as heat rushed through their systems, as if finally realizing all these feelings which had been for so long already there…

His spark skipped a beat as he gazed at the back of Waverider’s helm.

You never apologized for the way you left.

He tried to push those thoughts away. This wasn’t the time to stir that up. 

But it never matters what the mind wants, the heart will always have its way. Guilt, too. Such a persistent thing, guilt–bent on collection of time spent contemplating the past. 

Sharp like a knife, hidden in shadows of daily happenings, its steely glint appearing every now and then, its blade cutting deep into a wound time has slowly tried to mend. 

Tried to mend. 

But I tried…

Landmine began to wonder again about the truest meaning of “do what’s right” was. If it meant for the other bot or for oneself. If being a “good autobot” carried over into matters of the mind and spark, hidden from the public eye, intimate and…

This is not the time. 

Right. Not the time. 

Rounding the bend, Landmine was surprised to find how quickly they’d made their way to the command center. Considering the direction they’d been going, he guessed it was somewhere near the center of the ship.

Landmine watched as Metalhawk stepped in front of Waverider and reached out to a smooth, blue panel next to the door. 

“In addition to the defaults being set up–which I need to fix–I’m the only one scanned for access right now,” Hawk said with a little smile. The door hissed and started to open. “But by tonight you’ll be scanned to the system as well.”

“And the door will open in seconds, not hours!” 

“Yes, Waverider, it will,” Hawk said, rolling his optics.

Landmine watched as the door finally slid to the side, revealing a polished room with pristine, white floors and walls. Along the sides were blocks of machinery he could only guess was what higher-ups meant when they referred to something as ‘state-of-the-art.’

Except this stuff is state-of-the-art. 

The front of the room had grooves that shaped a large window, wrapping around about half the side walls. Landmine guessed they were retractable for direct visibility during flight. 

We don’t even need the windows open to fly the ship. Magnificent. 

“During your pre-mission training together, you’ll be introduced on a basic level to all the machinery aboard this ship, and I will designate you to certain roles when the need arises.”

Everything sparkled in its modern, symmetrical beauty. It was all new, untouched, and would ideally provide the team with advantages in conflicts to come. At least, far greater than the shabby resources given to camps like the one from which Landmine had just departed. 

Far less could die…

“Yo!” 

Three helms turned as a red-plated mech rose from behind one of the monitor stations near the back of the room. He clapped his servos together to dust them off and stepped out from the station, waving. 

“That was quick,” Metalhawk commented, looking the walls up and down. It was hard to tell what was manually modified and what had been unchanged, but Landmine decided it was best to simply trust that all the devices in the room would preform well when they were needed.

“Well...this is Cloudburst,” he said, gesturing at the mech. 

Cloudburst gave a big grin. 

“He’s just fixed our door problem, and most of the settings on the ship’s machinery,” the commander continued, looking somewhat pleased. 

"He did!!" Waverider called from the open door. He'd immediately run back to test it out.

A mechanic of sorts, Landmine surmised.

And, after a few minutes of talking passed, he found his hypothesis correct. 

Cloudburst had gone to university for a bit, before the war, but it was cut short. He was lucky enough to be selected for a special team of machinery developers, but then, unfortunate to have been placed in a camp that was quickly overpowered by Decepticon forces.

“And I made my escape before my section was done in,” he said. “In the days following, I made my way to…”

As he was talking, Waverider leaned over to Landmine. 

“Phoenix,” he whispered behind a servo.  

Immediately, he caught on, smirking. 

“Flier?” 

He watched with some satisfaction through his peripheral as Waverider nodded. 

“Well, I guess it isn’t that exciting, but…that’s about it from me!” Cloudburst finished with a huff and another smile. “So what about you?” 

Landmine felt put on the spot for a moment, then he shrugged. 

“It’s not much compared to your novel of a tale,” he remarked. The others gave a chuckle. He looked to Metalhawk. 

“But first…any chance we have drinks aboard?”

…

Landmine was incredibly amused to discover the lack of tolerance to high-grade his commander had. 

Of course, he’d never been drinking with a commander before, but he’d expected himself to get drunk first. 

Or…am I drunk, too? 

Truth be told, he was feeling a bit sleepy…and warm. 

Music played faintly from a speaker near the ceiling. Some song from a couple centuries back, the tune registering itself in subconscious memory. He knew the tune, but didn’t know the song. 

As it was, with many things. 

Yawning, Landmine tilted his helm, which was resting in the palm of his hand, and looked to his holopad. It was laid at the edge of the table, screen open with a striking, blue light.  

The sudden blue glow against the dim, pinkish lighting of the room hurt his optics a bit, so he looked away again. 

 Drunk or sober, I think I’m gonna fall over. 

 “Commander?” He gently poked the yellow mech. Metalhawk had his head down at the flat, white tabletop. 

Landmine guessed he was asleep. He took another sip of his drink, then put it down, giggling. 

Perhaps this’ll rouse him…

 “Hawk! Report status, soldier!” He deepened his voice to resemble the barking of a drill sergeant, tapping the yellow-plated mech as he spoke. 

Metalhawk gave a short jolt. 

“Whaz’t?” He slurred, raising his helm sharply, looking around a bit. He seemed to realize Landmine was talking to him and turned his gaze to him, squinting. 

“Hawk, I was wondering–”

“Comman’er here,” he murmured suddenly, yet still quietly, cutting Landmine off. He gave what looked like the very definition of an ‘improper salute’ as he spoke. 

“Yes, soldier?” He deepened his voice again, smirking. Hawk seemed partially unaware it was Landmine speaking to him, as if he was only half-awake.

“I report…I’m reporting for…my absence reports…I’ll go to class t’morrow, sir!!” 

Oh jeez. He’s so out of it– 

Landmine tightened his jaw, trying not to burst into laughter.

He promptly failed after a couple seconds more, but Metalhawk didn’t seem to really notice. And of course, this just made it funnier.

He watched as Metalhawk shook his head, looking rather drowsily at the empty cup sitting in front of him, then back at Landmine. Was he aware enough to want another drink? 

Perhaps he’d suddenly have some of that energy from a couple hours ago if he had that other drink.

The image of his Commander stumbling around and laughing in a mildly uncharacteristic manner returned to his thoughts. Landmine waited in anticipation as Hawk continued to stare at the cup. 

But then, he gave a long exhale and put his head back down, mumbling something else. 

 Landmine concluded with a small chuckle to himself that, Hawk was probably down for the night–for good this time. 

 “We come bearing–”

“Shush! He’ll know we’re here!!”

“He already does, you nut–” 

 He looked to the door as made a hissing noise and opened to reveal Cloudburst and Waverider, having a mild argument. 

 “Oh, you’re back,” He said, raising his glass with a small grin. Waverider set the crate down. “I definitely didn’t hear you coming down the hall.” 

He watched Waverider snap around and issue a light whack to Cloudburst. It was likely in place of a triumphant ‘I told you so.’  

This time, Landmine didn’t let himself laugh out loud. He did allow a quiet chuckle. 

Cloudburst walked over and grabbed a bottle, popping it open and taking a drink.

“You and the boss’re still around, I see!” 

Landmine nodded, moving to take another sip, but he found his cup empty. 

“I’d stay, but I’m so drunk right now, I can’t stand up straight,” he said, taking another swig. Landmine nodded again, reaching over and sliding a bottle of his own out of its slot. 

“Oh you’re drunk,” Waverider agreed shoving him playfully. 

And so are you, Landmine thought. So am I, probably. 

Pouring the bottle’s contents into his cup, he found his gaze fixating on the liquid as it sparkled mid-air. He liked the small sound it made as it refilled the cup. 

He did not wish to heed how many drinks he’d already had, or was giving himself. 

 “Well then, begone with you,” Waverider said. With a smirk, he suddenly reached over and swiped the open bottle from Cloudburst and took a sip. The mech didn’t seem to mind, just watching him with an amused grin.

“See you, Phoenix,” Landmine said, taking his eyes off his glass for a moment. He set his now-half-empty bottle next to Metalhawk’s sleeping figure. 

That was definitely too many drinks, considering the size of his cup.

  “I’ll be here for a while, I think.”

 Cloudburst nodded acknowledgement and made what Landmine classified as: an improper salute: exhibit B. 

“Then–until the morning shines!” He said, almost a little too loudly. “Cloudburst, signing off my duty–I mean–for my duty! I will bring you–”

“Shut up, you lugnut!” Waverider shoved him out of the room, laughing so hard he lost his footing a bit. The two toppled over, landing outside of the room. 

Landmine just watched, sipping at his cup. The door hissed shut on the sight of the two drunken mechs trying to unentangle themselves and stand up again, amidst their giddy, tipsy laughter. 

“Until the morning shines,” he echoed to himself absentmindedly, shifting his cup from side to side. 

The bubbly feeling he’d been harboring the whole evening was, inevitably and suddenly, starting to fade.

There was something starting to well up inside. Something another couple glasses wouldn’t fix, even though he had as much left in the bottle he’d just taken. 

Something rather cold and dark. 

To think I was among the dying in some forsaken frontlines camp. Now, here I am, drunk, with drunken fools. Look at me, one of them. 

He wasn’t feeling so warm anymore. 

Excitement awaits, or is it crueler death? 

Another sip, and he felt a twinge of unease. Or was it nausea? His fuel tanks remained in slight discomfort, but not enough that he’d be inclined to obey its silent will. 

So, he tilted his helm upwards to finish off the glass. Now he was ready to go.

Landmine rose unsteadily, swaying a bit, gripped the tableside. He felt his fuel tanks lurch with the movement, and took a second to breathe slowly.

He glanced at Hawk, still sleeping in his spot. He wondered when Waverider had planned to come back in, looking to the door. But everything had gone quiet. 

Probably went back to his quarters with Phoenix. 

Ah, well. It was about time he stopped drinking for the night, anyway. With a huff, he hauled himself upright and started towards the door. 

Don’t know where mine is…

He figured he’d just go back to the command center. Perhaps no one would mind if he passed out there. 

…

Three weeks later, the team was almost through with their pre-mission training requirements, with only days to go before they were certified to move out. 

It hadn’t been easy, but Landmine found himself feeling more confident in the mission to come, and in his Pretender abilities, which had until this point, meant next to nothing to him. 

 It was funny to think how the higher-ups had tried to convince every bot that their only purpose was a soldier, who should hold their gun and shoot–the only exception being if they were elite by caste or class, or simply higher-ranked. 

Day after day of military academy–especially after the war really got started–Landmine knew he was no elite. He was trained in how to use his gun, how to survive without proper resources for periods of time, to be a strategist–with the all the smarts a bot might need but would forget when a blade shoved itself against their throat. 

Yet still, only twice had he ever been spoken to about being a Pretender. About fighting as a Pretender and not as simply another Autobot soldier.

Perhaps it was trivial in the bigger picture–after all, dead is dead. 

 4-edge, 3-edge, length sticks, no not those…

Landmine’s optics flicked to the different boxes lined up in the shelf. Some of them had labels, some of those labels had faded to white. 

He’d gone to fetch some repair supplies for Cloudburst. And as usual, the silence invited the chatter of his own thoughts. 

How many were there like himself, with unacknowledged potential–who would likely die in battle, the intricate stories of their lives forced shut in an anticlimactic conclusion. No adventure, no life lived before their time? 

And how odd, he remarked internally, to still have the fortunate and the unfortunate, in the midst of a war–one being fought namely for the end of the class divide in Cybertronian society. 

Will we accomplish anything when we end this, other than the destruction of cities and lives? Be it violent tyranny and oppression, or the will of corrupt and almighty governmental bodies–who below them would come away with anything other than what has always been? 

Head down, staring at the contents of the open box, Landmine felt a familiar ache, a sinking feeling of dread and despair. 

Our lives lie in the hands of others. If we like it or not, if we wage a war for it or not. How fair is that? 

“Lander! Where are you, buddy? We’re doing another simulation soon, but Hawk wants us in the main hall first!” 

Waverider. 

He looked up, staring at the wall outside the open door. He felt guilty as silence followed, likely for his own lack of response. But he couldn’t say anything back right now. He gripped the box more tightly and started down the hall. 

Memories began to awaken. Things he wanted to remember that made his chest hurt, reminding him why he also…didn’t want to remember. 

I'm just as bad a spark, aren't I?

He wondered…how fair it was to break someone’s heart, and then, act like nothing had happened at all. 

…

On the day for liftoff–when training was complete and all certifications to move out had been met–Landmine found himself exiting powerdown before daylight had emerged in the sky. He was not a late-riser by any means, but not usually quite so early either. 

He stared at the faint rays of daylight, reaching through his window and lighting the edge of his room walls.

He thought about the vacuum of space ahead. Something like a smile played at the corners of his mouth. 

I’ll remember this for a while, won’t I? 

The mech paced his room a couple times, rolling his shoulder joints and stretching a little. He'd found many benefits to morning exercises.

Optics ticking to an empty glass bottle lying near the window, his mind drifted back to the evening before. 

To the impromptu speech Metalhawk had made last night over some drinks in the bar room. 

The dimly-lit room carried a quiet murmuring, a laugh here and there. Landmine had come a bit late, taking his seat while Waverider waved a hello and handed him a glass. Cloudburst was, of course, talking. 

After a little while, Landmine glanced over the table and saw that Metalhawk had a distant sort of smile on his faceplate. 

He ran a finger against his rounded glass, gently. Then, as if deciding something, he flicked the edge softly. 

The soft cling caught the attention of their group, quieting them. And, without moving his optics from the sight of the rippling liquid in his cup, he’d begun to speak. 

“As we prepare to liftoff tomorrow, I wanted to…say a few things.” 

He looked now, to each one of them. 

“I…cannot guarantee we will make it back to Cybertron, that we will always have what we need, or that we will…survive this. I don’t know if we’ll succeed or fail in our mission, end up as prisoners of war on some Decepticon ship or not, or die as just a handful more nameless, faceless faction of the Autobot army. But, there is one thing of which, I do ask you to be certain.” 

He smiled a smile that no longer seemed distant, but very much real. Present. 

A look shimmered in his optics that Landmine knew well, yet not of his own experience. 

It was a look that belonged only to those who had somehow, not been tainted at their very core–who had somehow learned to love all things as they were, and to always love. 

Someone, he mused the thought, who had perhaps, not yet learned to hate from the pits of his being. Or maybe…

Made a choice, he'd thought.

“I am your commander in name only. More importantly, however, know I am your teammate, and I will not abandon you at any cost. Our destinies are uncertain–I only hope for many good centuries together. Not as mere soldiers of the Autobot faction, but instead as warriors of Cybertron, and of justice. Though imperfect as all beings are, we have, and always will have, a duty to protect life, and to strive to do good. And that mission, above all others, I do believe we can accomplish.”

Landmine gave a shout of approval and raised his glass high in the air. Nodding, the others raised theirs. They gazed back at Metalhawk, who gave a small chuckle, then raised his own glass. 

“For peace!” He offered the toast. Clinking of glass and overlapping shouts followed.

“For Cybertron!!”

“Let’s get ‘em!!”

“YEAA!!!”

Landmine blinked again, realizing he’d begun to stare at that bottle a little too long. 

The memory left him in the silence of his room in the early hours of day. 

Today’s the day. 

He slipped his new blaster to its holster and cast one more look at his room, then headed down to the main room to start course-planning, as a favor for the others on the ship, of course. 

…

Many years had passed since the Pretenders’ liftoff. Missions had been carried out, ships tracked and ambushed, prisoners transported to warships that arrived quickly after battles. The three weeks of training hadn’t done much to show them what they’d learn firsthand on every mission. 

Many hours were spent behind piles of mission reports and other writeups for record-keeping. No one had been seriously wounded up till this point, just some scratches here and there. 

When it was time to close in on their target, there’d be tense silence in the command room, darkened save for the computer display of what lay outside their ship’s windows. It was the unspoken group decision that pursuing targets would mean windows were closed, for maximum stealth effect in addition to the cloaking technology their ship possessed.

The panel walls were littered with an array of maps and charts (digital or tacked on rather hastily) that either had to do with their ship or the one the team was chasing. All optics and servos were locked to their task, relaying commands and requests between stations, ready for almost anything. 

 And at present, that was kind of the team’s situation…with one slight change. 

 “Phoenix, give me the numbers on our bottom left central thruster. Will it hold?”

 Having tracked their target to a very distant quadrant, the computer didn’t have much information about the area or its conditions. 

 “Ah…we’re at 42% power and dropping. The damage report indicates the shielding was torn off and it’s leaking fuel. The secondary power source cables are damaged as well, so once all the power’s gone, that’s it.” 

“Are the damage control systems online?”

“Negative. We have to go manual,” He pulled up the video feed of their rear camera to show the damage. “We are traveling at full speed in space, so manual repairs are not doable–”

“–without the cost of a life, alright. And if we continue pursuit as we are?” 

“Without repair? The…system says about 20 minutes until it starts sucking power from the other ones, and then we’ll enter float stage, pre-free-fall.”

 So…they were trapped. 

Landmine watched as he ducked his head, dealing a restrained punch to the wall next to him before returning to his command station and furiously typing away at the controls. He cast his eyes back to his own task, repeating to himself that he must stay focused.

“I’m going to try to reroute the power from the damaged thruster to the functional ones and shut off its power. We need to land now, or we’ll be forced to land,” he said quickly, not looking up. 

The tremor in his voice was audible, ambiguously a tone of either urgency or fear. 

 Landmine looked up from his station, where he had been managing their travel course since no one was piloting manually. 

 “Should I analyze the properties of our current sector and any stable landforms?” He offered, already pulling up another screen. 

“Yes, make sure–”

 Suddenly, the vessel jolted downwards and shook with such force that everyone was knocked to their feet. A blaring alarm sounded as the ship shook again, an automated voice announcing in smooth Cybertronian that their back two thrusters were out of power. 

The lights shut off for a second, while the ship swayed unevenly before a loud whirring started up and it moved back up again. 

When it returned to a somewhat stable position, the lights remained flickering, and everyone remained gripping their stations tightly so as to not fall over. 

 Metalhawk straightened and immediately dashed to the front of the ship, smacking a panel on the front computer and grabbing the steering wheel. As he twisted it, he turned back around for a moment. 

 “Lander–something within the current firing range of this ship–we need a landing place now!!”

“We’re abandoning target pursuit?” 

 He felt a small spark of hope as Metalhawk, gave a silent nod in response. He had the feeling most other commanders would have sacrificed themselves and their ship, preaching the nobility of dying for this cause without abandoning the mission.

 “With any luck, one of our last stray shots hit their ship too–which was already on its last leg from the looks of it,” Waverider piped up. “So they won’t be too far ahead, I’ll bet.” 

 “Okay, then,” Landmine switched off his station’s input to the course control and focused his efforts on scanning the nearby planets. “I’ll get something.” 

The ship was vibrating now, but not with its usual even-toned hum. 

It was the kind of uneven vibrating a machine made before it finally gave out and powered down for good.

Meanwhile, all the planets in their current sector weren’t looking too appealing. 

Not many with life or long-term livable conditions…Hm…

“Balance function is starting to–”

As if on cue, the ship began to tilt downwards again, the metallic whirring noise growing louder and louder. A small explosion could be heard before the lights shut off for good and the alarm system abruptly stopped. Everyone was tossed violently to the ground. 

The automated voice struggled to tell the room–

“We lost the third one!!” Cloudburst called over the halting monotone speech from the ship’s speakers. He shook his head picked himself off the ground, then rushed for the door. 

“I’ll shut off the power transfer so it doesn’t fry the rest of the ship and us in it!” The door hissed open and he disappeared down the hall. 

 Then, the sound of…something blowing out, sounded in the room. 

“Oh, sweet fraggin–” Waverider muttered the beginnings of a swear before whipping his gaze to the side to watch as the left half of the ship went completely dark, the computer panels clearly destroyed past functioning point. 

He slammed his station with a balled first. 

“We’re blind on the left side!”

Metalhawk made a noise of frustration and worry, just barely audible above the roaring engine as it struggled to stay active. He was grappling with the somewhat functional manual steering system, trying to keep the ship at a steady angle. 

 “Can we open the–ngh!!” 

He was cut off as the ship as the ship lost control again, throwing him off the wheel and slamming him against the wall and then the floor. As he stumbled to his feet and back to the steering wheel, he gasped as he saw the other side of the ship’s display panels begin to flicker ominously. 

Landmine swallowed, doing his best to quickly surf through all the information presented. 

“We’re almost out of power–we can’t deactivate the panels!”

It was now or never, they needed a place to–

'Sol System Entry 7625 - Life: detected.’ 

Landmine blinked twice at the screen in front of him. He scrolled back to the planet that had read the one positive result among the sea of negative ones. 

It that…?

With a quick tap, the image of a blue orb with wispy, white clouds tracing its edge, floating gently in its place, appeared on his display screen. His optics flicked to the planetary report, intrigued to find that this place had even been previously logged into Autobot travel records. 

‘Atmospheric makeup: Non-toxic. Resource profile: Varied, Non-toxic. Cycle End Date: Undetected. Motion Cycle: Rotation.’ 

He checking one last thing, anticipation building–

Landing conditions: Optimal; follow procedure 41F-52.’

That was it.

“We need to prepare the ship to enter foreign atmosphere!!”

Waverider and Metalhawk snapped their gazes in his direction.

“Yes, I found us a landing spot, you can thank me later. The profiles of the surrounding planets are virtually uninhabitable–this is our only option right now!” 

Waverider exchanged looks with their commander, who gave him a sharp nod. Then, he ran over to Landmine’s screen. After a moment, he chuckled a little. 

When he turned to look at Landmine, a smile had cracked onto his face through the solemn, controlled panic that had been previously. The soft, turquoise light from the only control panels still working in the room bounced off the curves of his face, shimmering off his blue visor. 

 And even though there was such a high chance they’d die in the next few minutes, Landmine found himself frozen, simply staring back.

 No. We can’t die today. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. 

“Hey! Um, a little help here–did we find something?!”

Landmine let out a little laugh and slid back into his seat as Waverider seemed to snap back to seriousness and leaned over to speak for him.

“Hawk, it also checks out as habitable to carbon-based life forms!” He called, gripping the his station as the ship jerked to the side again. “We’ll be fine as long as we land safely!” 

Just then, Cloudburst came rushing into the room. 

“The core engine isn’t looking good, guys! We need to get the ship out of full thrust mode or we’ll overheat, and our power sources will mix and explode!!” 

Oh. Wonderful. 

So, the options had been expanded beyond: 1.) drifting aimlessly, trapped inside a non-functioning ship until energon-depletion or some other cause killed them, or 2.) losing power completely and burning up upon entry to the nearest atmosphere.

Now, they had a third option: sitting and waiting for their ship to simply overheat and explode. 

The reddish mech ran up next to Metalhawk and started pushing buttons on the control panel. 

“Someone needs to prepare the stasis pods and program them to ejection mode, I’ll set an altitude point!” 

“Got it!” Waverider called, jumping up and sprinting out of the room. Landmine started inputting the coordinates of destination to the navigation system–one of the only undamaged things thus far–and deprogramming the space travel controls. 

A couple minutes of silence passed before he flashed a thumb-up in the air.

“We’re ready for atmospheric entry in approximately 40 seconds and counting!” 

“Brace for a drop, everyone!” Metalhawk shouted, planting his feet and gripping the wheel with all the force he could give. 

“Stasis pods are ready to go!” Waverider reentered the room, sliding back into his station.

“Engines to 15%!”

“Roger!”

“Everyone get down!!”

There was a loud noise from the engine, then an abrupt silence as it cut down to about 15% power, and then the ship dipped so far downwards that Landmine felt himself grimace. 

Part of him even wondered if this was really procedure, and that they weren’t all about to die now. 

As if we weren’t before, he scoffed at himself. 

He dug his digits into the side of his seat and shut his optics as the ship began to pick up speed. 

The eerie silence endured for what felt like an eternity before the ship moved again, this time to right itself and return to a normal angle. At least, normal enough that Landmine opened his eyes to look around and see that the others were slowly standing up. 

 Metalhawk let out a shuddering breath and pressed a couple buttons with shaking digits before stepping back and regarding his crew. He’d probably switched the ship back to autopilot, so that they could all–

“Everyone to the stasis pods,” he ordered solemnly, quietly. 

No one else spoke a word, ducking their helms and filing out of the room and into the hall. 

Landmine walked out last. 

He cast one last look at the nearly pitch-black command room, catching sight of the last couple working display panels struggling to function before the door hissed shut behind him. 

He felt a twinge of sadness at the idea that they were saying goodbye to this ship so soon. Admittedly, it had been one nice vessel, with a gorgeous design and plenty of capabilities.

Then, there was the stark realization that once they entered stasis, they might not make it back out alive. 

We can’t die today. We won’t.

Since the ship was barely working, the lighting in the halls was…nonexistent. However, they knew exactly where they were going, and walked quietly in the darkness until they reached their destination. 

With a quiet whirring noise, the door slid open. The darkness was abruptly luminated with a soft, greenish glow, emanating from the center of each stasis pod lying in its place. 

There were six of them, more than enough for every member on this team. 

Landmine had been there to help Cloudburst put in the other three.

He walked in and watched as Metalhawk entered his verification to the panel on the wall, deactivating the locks on each one so they hissed and snapped open simultaneously. The greenish glow faded to a blue, as if softening, to invite them in. 

“Whatever the outcome, remember what I said to you all on our liftoff day,” Metalhawk said as evenly as he could, turning and regarding each mech slowly, kindly. He had that smile on his face again, which seemed to ease the tension in the room. 

“If we make it out alive or if this is the day on which Primus welcomes us home, I am honored to have had such a good team of friends. I am honored to die, not for this cause, but surrounded by you.”

"And we're honored to remain with you in this moment, sir."

"It was an honor indeed."

"Frag yeah."

Their commander nodded, then swiveled to gaze down at the stasis pods.

“Then…until we meet again,” he said, soft enough that he almost wasn't audible.

He then walked to the back of the room and took a step into the pod. Cloudburst followed, taking the one next to him.

Landmine stepped towards his pod, then stopped, frozen in place again. 

It wasn’t quite hesitation or fear, but something was stopping him from going forward. He could feel the quaking beneath him, as the ship was no doubt somewhat falling apart, reaching closer and closer to the ground. 

He heard the doors to the other pods seal themselves shut, administering the stasis lock. 

But something was…

“Hey.” 

He looked to his side and found himself millimeters away from Waverider. His spark skipped a beat. But, he wasn’t afraid. 

He found himself reaching out and gripping Waverider’s servos, firmly, yet gently. He traced his thumb along the palm of his hand, smiling with a deep emotion he couldn’t quite place. 

Waverider’s visor glittered, a smile twisting the corners of his mouth upwards. He let his helm fall against Landmine’s.

He spoke so softly, so gently, in his easy-going way that almost made it seem like he didn't even fear death itself. 

“I want to see you again.”

“Me too.”

“Then see me again!” 

“Alright, I will,” Landmine chuckled, letting go of one hand and bringing it up to caress Waverider’s face for a moment. “I won’t leave you again.” 

“Oh, Lander…”

“I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry for the things I said back in Academy, I'm sorry for never contacting you, I’m sorry for–”

“Shh…” 

 The black-plated mech drew away, his hand sliding slowly out of Landmine’s grip. He gave a soft smile and climbed into his pod, still watching him.

Landmine found himself to be shaking, unable to speak as he watched Waverider lean back and close his optics. He didn’t know how to describe this feeling, that seemed to break his facade, to suddenly force him to realize of the gravity of everything happening in this moment. 

The possibility of the unwanted outcome, which no one would mourn, and no one would remember, until long after the war was over. Or perhaps, not even then.  

He watched, motionless, as the glass panel slid over his body, the blue shining off it in wavy lines.

He mouthed something just before the glass fogged over and he could no longer be seen. 

Until we meet again. 

He could still felt the touch on his hand, the weight against his forehead, heard the softly-whispered utterances ringing in the recesses of his mind as he finally forced himself to move. 

Stepping into his own pod, he felt a strange relief wash over him. Perhaps it was closer to sudden resignation, but he wanted to believe it was relief.

A sheet of clear glass moved over his body, another, thicker one sliding over from the side.

It was a very small space, this container. 

He found himself smiling.

Maybe now he could finally say he’d been a good Autobot. 

Had the past been fixed? Had he done anything right or...just? Had he truly strove for the protection of all life, as Hawk had put it? 

Perhaps. Or not. But maybe I did my best. And maybe…that’s good enough. 

And then, the nothingness of stasis wrapped its grip around him, and everything went dark. 

…

“No, you need a new tie–where’s your sense of style?!” Landmine took a long drink from his glass before shaking his head. “Oh, wait I forgot–you don’t have one.”

“Says the guy in the ugliest jacket I have ever laid eyes on–”

“That's my favorite one, shut up!” 

“You!!”

“You!!!”

But the both of them were laughing.

Though tipsy, they hadn’t thought to call it a night yet, especially not on their drinks. So they remained, sitting near the window of a high-rise, fancy restaurant in the middle Manhattan.

It had so happened, Waverider was in the city for a bit, so Landmine decided to take him to one of his favorite restaurants.

It was times like this he was happy to be not just a human, but one with a very decent salary.

The lights of the city twinkled like a sea of stars tied to the ground, canceling out the vast number of stars that both of them knew hung high in the sky…out in space…

“It’s been too long for you, hasn’t it?” 

 Landmine jolted a bit a he heard Waverider’s voice, gaze snapping back to him and away from the city below. He watched him reach out and pick up his glass, tracing the edge of it with a finger. 

“Me too, Lander,” Waverider said, so quietly it could have been to himself, “Me too.” 

Yes, he agreed, internally, looking back out the window.  

It’d been quite literally ages since they’d been able to resume their missions, flying around the galaxy…they’d been in human bodies for so many years, it almost felt like a distant memory–the war, or that they belonged to a whole other world. 

Considering how long they'd been forced to remain on earth so far–as their superiors felt it best to just station the team on earth rather than provide or allow them a means to come back to Cybertron–he was fairly open to that notion. Perhaps it was better it all remained a vague memory, put behind him for good.

Life on earth wasn't perfect, but it had a lot of its own good moments. In some ways, it was better than Cybertron, he'd concluded.

And despite what he knew many of his kind would think, he didn't feel guilty at all for feeling that way.

He remembered the day their stasis pods reactivated, opening his optics to a bright light floating in a crystal blue sky, and realizing he was unharmed, and still alive. 

The flood of hope like no other, that had caused him to remain motionless for quite a while before he finally left his pod. 

But what had felt like such a distant memory wasn’t just the war itself. 

 “Hey,” he said taking another sip of the sparkling white liquid in his glass. “I’ve missed talking to you like this. Just sitting together...”

He watched Waverider lean back to down the rest of his glass before responding. 

“You said it.”

“We should…get together more often,” he found himself saying. The music playing faintly on the speakers stopped for a moment as he spoke. 

He watched Waverider smile, but felt his heart tighten as it registered what kind of smile it was. This was familiar. Quite familiar. 

Another song started to play overhead. Something about romance. 

“I’d…be open to that,” he said at last, looking out the window. Even amidst the medium-level noise of the restaurant, his sudden silence seemed to shout at Landmine. 

Should I not have...?

Landmine sighed and reached out a hand, letting his fingers rest on his friend’s. 

The warm, semi-dim lighting of the restaurant painted the strangers at the tables behind them in orange shadows. The yellow of the overhead lighting shimmered faintly in the depths of Waverider's soft blue eyes. 

He looked out the window again, too, eyes caught by the sight of a skyscraper flashing a bright yellow light in some practiced sequence. 

He found it wonderful and intriguing that even after all these years watching civilization build itself into the modern day, there were still some things he’d never know about daily life. 

Or it might be a broken light. 

Another memory suddenly greeted him. 

The one where he went to check Waverider’s pod first, instinctively, and moment he realized how afraid he’d been when Waverider finally opened his eyes, the glass sliding away immediately, letting him sit up.

 “We’re up first! How wild is that?” He’d said, dropping down to a kneeling position to be eye-level with him. Waverider blinked once, twice, then chuckled. 

“Pretty wild.” He leaned forward and touched foreheads with Landmine. “So, hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m seeing you again. I told you we’d see each other soon…”

“I know…”

Suddenly, the hand beneath his shifted to grip back, pulling him from his memory and into the present again. The smile that he saw across the table was different again, looking happier than before. 

I just don’t know how to tell you...

 “Can I come to your office tomorrow, then?” 

 Landmine smirked, feeling his own playful nature return in full. 

 “Only if you let me pick out your outfit–and you throw out that awful tie!” 

“By the Primes, Lander–”

“No, I'll even buy the stuff for you. It’ll be my treat,” He insisted, starting to laugh. “The people at my office will kick you out if you walk in with that uncoordinated kind of style!” 

“Oh, then you must have experience in that field,” Waverider joked back, motioning at Landmine’s signature burgundy jacket. 

He had the most smug grin on his face.

“My good sir, I’ll have you know that–” 

But he didn’t finish his sentence.

He’d broken off abruptly, just staring at Waverider for a moment. The clamor of people around them seemed to fade out.

Unsure as to whether it was the wine he'd been drinking or something else entirely, he felt like something was...pulling at him, and he found himself leaning closer and closer until…

Another memory flashed through his mind’s eye. It was of his first experience with a kiss. 

Landmine was sitting in his office, typing away at his laptop. He'd been working at a paper company while he looked for a better job, having set his sights on moving to New York.

He was filling out his application for a position as head of sales at an automotive dealer when he felt a tap on the shoulder.

In the reflection of his computer screen, he could see Waverider's figure before he felt him lean over and rest his head on his shoulder.

"Hey," he murmured, grinning. "Shouldn't you be in a meeting?"

His partner didn't respond, instead leaning over and pressing his lips gently against Landmine's cheek. The blonde froze, obviously startled by the gesture.

Then at last, he cleared his throat, looking up at Waverider, who still had a large smile on his face. He was sure he was flushed, but tried to play it cool.

"And you did that…why?”

“It’s a human custom,” Waverider explained, laughing. “Its called kissing. Saw someone in my office do it with their partner, and I've seen it hundreds of times before that, but didn't know what it was."

"And that is?" He watched Waverider draw back a bit, tapping his chin in thought.

"How do I say...well, it's like...it means affection, or that you care for someone.”

"Alright..." Landmine was still confused, however. “But, I mean...is it platonic or romantic?”

Waverider shrugged. Then, leaned over to kiss Landmine's cheek again.

"That's...up to us, I guess..."

Whatever you wanted it to be, a kiss was. 

Well, he didn't know what this kiss was, but...he knew it felt right. It was better than any word he could speak, or gesture he could make.

And after a moment, he and Waverider leaned back, sat back down, quiet again. But, not an uncomfortable silence. 

He watched his companion smile, start to blush. The dimples in his face showed themselves as he smiled back at him. He ruffled his brownish-blonde hair with one hand, starting to giggle a little. 

Landmine knew it wasn’t going to be long before Waverider would have to return to his job, leaving New York again. They’d be lonely again, even if they called and messaged…

But maybe what they had...didn't need some kind of label, or name. A commitment or a friendship or...something deeper than that...whatever this was.

This still felt alright. As it always had. Something told him Waverider felt that, too. 

He and Waverider had since had many long talks about their academy days. Everything had been laid out, brought up, acknowledged and forgiven.

They had come to understand one another so deeply in all their years since coming to Earth, but especially now, as humans in this current time of peace. 

“No matter what you do, or who you’re with," Waverider murmured, beaming, "I’ll always be here for you. I know I've said that before, but...eh, it's worth saying again.” 

"I know."

"I'm glad!" He laughed again.

He was certainly a little drunk, sure but, he was always like this, Landmine thought.

Waverider had always been a relaxed and fun-loving soul.

“Connected sparks...always find their way back together no matter what, don’t they?” Landmine remarked, flicking a fingertip against his plate.

He felt warm, all the way inside himself, not from the meal or the heater, but...from something else.

Waverider blinked in some surprise for a moment, seeming to take in the words, processing them, before the smile returned to his features.

“Yeah...they really do.”

And, suddenly Landmine took notice of the speaker overhead, as it had started playing something else while they spoke. 

It was a song about humanity–something he and the other Pretenders had learned slowly but surely, was quite relative to what they’d known all their lives.

The truth of existence, which Landmine had found and continued to find with every passing day. 

That it's alright, to be as one is–imperfect, yet persevering.

Bringing what one can to the table of life, giving, speaking, loving and experiencing it all. 

That in that imperfection, life itself was good–contrary of course, to what he’d learned in the Cybertronian Military Academy, which had been wrong about many other things as well. 

Life in many forms, which seeks friendships and connections between others, in its funny, social nature.

Nothing quite in idealistic purity, and often happy in that manner of existing.

That, which altogether, made it truly beautiful to be alive, especially on this Earth.

///

[the-rightful-king-of-jotunheim]

Neither Joined Nor Apart

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, only one or two tho

Requested by: No one, absolutely no one asked for this.

Word Count: 1036

A/N: I realized that I like sharing my writings (if you can call them that, that is) here with you guys even though I get no feedback whatsoever, which is not ideal but totally fine, I can’t blame anyone for not doing something idk where this is going. Anyway, what I meant to say was that I like posting here and recently (aka for the past two to three years) I haven’t been able to post barely anything because I couldn’t finish anything I started. So I decided to share the things that are not finished, and would not have been finished anytime soon, for the sake of making sure my blog isn’t as dry as the desert and saying what the hell and making myself happy. So, here, have the first piece of this series (i suppose?) which is far from being completed but it is at least something. Also, so sorry for the long rant on the notes ehe.

    They… Used to have a rhythm. Time seemed to flow seamlessly whenever they were together. It was easy to be around them; they didn’t intimidate anyone, managed to put a smile on everyone who was within the reach of their love. 

    However, something seemed to have changed. They didn’t flow anymore. It was… forced. Every word, every breath, every glance looked like it came from a place that used to be there but now was nothing more than an abandoned shed. Their lips continued to exchange small smiles yet their eyes did not join the dance like they used to. 

    Conversation didn’t appear to be as natural, yet none of them tried as hard as they would to keep it alive. Just like their relationship, the time they spent together seemed to dissipate. Slowly but surely. Gone with each passing second. 

    It was a sad sight to behold, yes, but they weren’t sad. They knew what was happening came to them naturally and for that they could neither blame themselves nor the other one. The air around them was thick with sorrow and they swam through it like it was nothing. What else could they do? Did people think they did not fight for what they had? The thing that everyone seemed to be envious of? The thing that seemed to come once in a lifetime? Did people really think they didn’t know how special what they had together was? 

    Because they knew. They knew about what was once burning, what consumed them whole and made them rise as different people, different but together. The warmth that helped them stay afloat this deep ocean that their lives were, they knew about it. They were constantly reminded of it in the other’s eyes. It’s what made them lit up, it’s what made them a haven for when they were in desperate need for some sense of safety. They knew. They knew how special it was, they knew that they would never be able to find anything like it, not only them but the whole world as well, ever again. But they also knew that once it was gone, it was gone. 

    And they tried. They tried to keep it from disappearing away. They relived the moments where they felt it the most intensely. They painted the same pictures, posed the same poses, they tried with all they had to turn things back to how they were. Alas, what they knew from the beginning was, as it always were, true; try all they might, all was futile. 

    The question that remained was “What changed?” What changed in them, around them, between them? What was the spark that ignited this massive emotional earthquake that seemed to change it all? His eyes were the same. Her eyes were the same. The way they slept, tangled up in each other, making two people into one as if it was physically possible, was also the same. The comfort of each other’s company was the same. The way they looked at each other never changed, not even once. The way her hand fitted into his was exactly the same, if anything it was a more perfect fit as even their hands had become so used to being so close all the time. They were more in sync with each other than they ever were. So, what had changed?

    They didn’t know. They didn’t care. Because neither of them found the strength to fix what was causing this falling apart. Frankly, they were tired. Tired of thinking why, tired of thinking how, tired of thinking. They used to not think about them, what they had. They didn’t need to. That was what was so fascinating about what they had. It appeared to be so natural that neither of them felt the need to approach it as a foreign part of themselves, felt the need to approach it quizzically, like every other god damned thing in the mess they called their lives. It was what comforted them, made it easy to sleep at night. For once in both their lives, they had something they, for some strange reason, didn’t feel the need to avoid but rather, embrace. 

    Sleepless nights were turned into sacred rituals of deep slumber. The muscles tense with caution were relaxed as they touched each other. Disturbed souls had found their peace as they held each others’ eyes, glances hiking across the rooms they had been in, desperately trying to find each other. A breath they wished were the last was now a silent prayer for others to come, come and get tangled with the other’s. 

    Oh, how in love they were. It would have put Shakespeare to shame for even the playful bard who’s become the master of love could not even dream of such love. It was a love that could not have been immortalized by words for nothing ever created by mere mortals could capture the beauty and the astonishing nature of it. It wasn’t just a feeling, their love, it was physical, it was palpable. You could almost touch it, see it, hear it through the air whenever you saw the two together. It was the harmonious dance of two scarred souls that fascinated the untrained eye and filled with doubt the trained one. For how could it be trained? If what it observed now was true love, what was all the others it had seen? A child’s toy? A bard’s fiction? A story for the unlucky to hold their despair at bay for if they knew they could never love, life would become meaningless? 

    However magnificent it once was, now it was gone. And it would be best if everybody came to terms with it. It would be best if they finally stopped pretending in hopes of awakening something that was dead, had been for a long time. It was only hurting them both. 

    They didn’t want to hurt, or feel hurt, anymore. They were broken enough with their nightmare filled nights and brainwashed pasts before they got into this whole mess, they didn’t need to lose pieces of themselves further. 

    So they just let themselves fall into this new flow that was neither joined nor apart.

Taglist: @theoneanna​ @powerstrangerdacre​ @fairlightswiftly

Thank you so much for reading! Remember you can always send me an ask or message me with what you thought about any of my stories or something totally random! Feedback is always very much welcome and deeply appreciated.

[sparklysung]

✨OPEN CURTAINS PART II – h.r.j.✨

© sparklysung – 2021. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.

pairing – huang renjun x female!reader

genre – fluff, smut | non-idol!au, neighbours!au

warnings – voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, penetration, protected sex

word count – 3.150 words

summary – after being caught jerking off to his neighbour, things only got better for renjun.

note – writing this was so frkng difficult and i’m still not completely convinced, but i hope it lives up to your expectations, tho! i’m sorry if it doesn’t :’) but i tried my best. also, i finished it earlier than i thought lol. enjoy and now, just you wait for part iii soon!

taglist – @junguwuuu​ , @prvncejxon​

part i ; part 2 ; part 3

to say that renjun was mortified was an understatement.

after the incident of you catching him red-handed, he started avoiding you like the plague. he even started keeping his bedroom curtains closed, afraid of being seen inside and you deciding to confront him about it.

the poor boy couldn’t even sleep properly. he kept waking up almost every night with sweat coating his forehead, dark hair sticking to it, while heavy breaths filled the room.

the times when renjun was lucky, the cause of his insomnia was a wet dream, in which the both of you did everything but innocent things. every time it happened, he woke up in the middle of the night or early in the morning with a painful boner, precum staining the crotch of his boxers. either way, it always ended up with his hand down his pants, desperate for some kind of relief. never, not even during his teenage years, had he experienced so many wet dreams in such a short amount of time.

though when he wasn’t, nightmares tormented his slumber, messing up his sleep schedule even more. he was terrified of the idea of facing you after what happened, as he expected you to think the worse out of him. and to be fair, you had every reason to.

the sleepless nights he spent turning and rolling around in his bed plus the time he spent studying and working on his school assignments had deep dark circles forming under his eyes. it also had become part of renjun’s routine to fall asleep on his desk at school, too tired to pay attention to what was happening during class. and he was getting out of excuses for his exhausted state.

you were driving him crazy and he didn’t know how much time he was going to last until he broke down.

~.~.~.~

the day renjun most dreaded eventually came when he accidentally bumped into you while going to the nearby store.

it was supposed to be a quick and easy task. he just needed to buy some groceries his mother needed to make dinner later that day and the only person he would be required to talk to was the cashier. so he thought he was safe. that’s why, for the first time after the incident –as he had named it–, he decided to go out of his house for other than school and take a break from everything.

“ouch,” renjun didn’t look up at first, so he didn’t notice it was you who he had bumped into, his attention focused on the place where his arm was hit. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t paying attention,” he mumbled, ready to continue his path to the store.

“it’s fine, i noticed,” he froze in his spot as realization fell on him that it was you, the last person he wanted to see. his head shot up, eyes wide in panic and breath turning uneven as his mind raced with thoughts of how to get away from you as fast as he could.

maybe he should go back to china, after all, change his name and erase all traces of ever being alive.

“renjun, right? your name is huang renjun?” you slightly tilted your head and renjun thought he had never seen someone look so effortlessly pretty, his heart felt like it was about to combust. curiosity about your good looking neighbour –who you’ve been wanting to get to know so bad for a while– grew inside of you as you observed him nervously moving around. and had to admit you were especially intrigued after seeing him so unashamedly touching himself with his eyes locked on your body.

a completely different side of him from what you were currently seeing.

gathering the little courage he could find within his body, he spoke up, “uhm, yeah… i guess that’s me?” the sound of his awkward laugh made a smile form on your face.

“so…” renjun awkwardly scratched the back of his head, “i’m sorry for, you know… snooping around and nutting off to you like that, you know, a few days ago.” his hands started getting clammy as he felt his body heat up. “i know it wasn’t nice of me and it was so wrong… i just…” you almost let out a small chuckle at his flustered state.

as he stopped talking and just stared ashamedly at the floor, you decided to tease him just a little bit. “you just…?” you raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response before continuing, “you just happened to have your hand on your dick while looking out of your window the moment i caught you?” you jokingly questioned.

when his eyes opened wide with shock and the tip of his ears turned red out of pure embarrassment, you knew you’d hit the right button.

“fuck, i-i’m really freaking sorry, alright?” his hands came up to cover his face, voice wavering. “i don’t know what else to tell you or how to make it up to you?” he spoke quietly, unsure of what he was saying. your smaller hands took his out of his face, forcing him to look at you once again.

“oh, don’t worry about it, renjun,” you took a step closer without letting go of his hands, your chests almost touching, “you’ll have an opportunity to show me how sorry you are and make it up to me.” with a breathy whisper in his ear, you let go of him, turned around and walked away.

renjun stood there, dumbfounded, not knowing at all how to react.

you were so confusing to him. always so mysterious, staying locked inside your room instead of going out with your friends –and he knew for a fact you had quite a lot–. he had never seen you bring people to your house, let alone your room. he could tell you weren’t exactly shy, but more on the quiet side. you liked keeping to yourself and being a spectator rather than the main character, but either way, you were captivating. so much so that you didn’t need to be in the spotlight to be the center of attention.

since the first time he laid eyes on you when your family was moving in next door, he couldn’t take them away. it was like an invisible force pulled him towards you, making him want to get closer.

but you were out of his reach. and out of his league.

he could never catch up to you after class ended, as you always left as soon as your teacher bid goodbye. so he rarely got to see you due to being in different classrooms and hanging out with different friend groups.

that frustrated renjun to no end.

it felt like the universe just didn’t want you two to happen. like it despised the idea of something sparking between you. like it wanted you apart and as far away as possible.

that’s one of the reasons why he ended giving up on trying to get to know you. apart of you apparently not being interested in him anyway.

~.~.~.~

the one day renjun decided to open his curtains to let natural light and fresh air in, you happened to be at home. just like the first time. he felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as this was the first time in a while he was looking past his window and into your room.

through the also open curtains, he could see you, looking prettier than ever. your hair was messy as if you had just woken up from a nap. your oversized clothes made you look even smaller than you were. biting back a smile, renjun thought about how you would look like wearing his clothes. he was a few inches taller than you, so one of his shirts would probably fit you like a short dress.

he was scared of how much he had been thinking of you lately, especially of the way his heart fluttered against his chest whenever he did. the two of you hadn’t even held a proper conversation, he knew how slim the possibility of something happening with you was and yet he was crushing on you.

renjun didn’t notice he had been staring until he felt your intense gaze burning back at him. his eyes moved away from you as heat rose to colour his cheeks, tongue poking the inside of it. his hand ran through his hair, softly messing it up, to distract himself and prevent him from looking back at you.

he had been caught staring by you, again.

renjun tried to control himself, nails biting into the skin of his palm. he knew you were watching his every move the exact same way he was watching you. you had already confronted him one time about it and it was pretty awkward. he didn’t want to go through something similar again.

once was enough.

his eyes darted back towards you when you moved, successfully getting his attention back to you. neither of you broke eye contact as you positioned yourself so he could see you perfectly from where he was standing up. you laid on your bed, back pressed against your mattress as your head sunk into your pillows. he gasped when your legs opened, allowing him to look at both your face and hand as it slid down to the crotch of the leggings you were wearing, lightly rubbing your clothed bundle of nerves. 

renjun forced himself to stay still and not give in so easily. his jaw clenched tightly as ragged breaths filled his room. he could feel his hardening member throb from the confines of his pants.

he wasn’t sure if you were just testing him, trying to see how much you could push him until he finally snapped, or if you were making a move on him, putting on a show to hint your interest.

and he was scared he was mistakenly reading your signs.

he knew he couldn’t afford fucking up his nearly non-existing chance of getting closer.

tugging your pants down your legs, you threw the cloth next to your bed. the revelation of you lacy panties made a groan fall from his lips, his own hand betraying him and making its way to the tent forming in his pants. fingers squeezing his bulge, he chewed on his lip.

you had him just where you wanted him, hot and bothered, hand rubbing himself through his clothes. he looked so good and you couldn’t wait to see him cumming again. truth is you couldn’t stop thinking about the fucked out state he was in a couple of days ago since he left you to get yourself off to the memory of the sinful things he had done.

you pushed the cloth aside, too eager to touch yourself to properly undress. gently massaging your folds to spread your slick arousal, you sighed in content. you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the way renjun was eyeing you hungrily, hands aching to touch you.

seeing your parted lips, red and swollen from biting into them, he wished he was able to hear you and listen to the sound of your moans and whimpers. all of the times he had fantasized about it flashed before his eyes as he tried to pretend they were coming from you.

“f–fuck,” mouth agape as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hand sliding up and down faster when he saw your lips move into what seemed to be a moan of his name.

he hoped he was right and you were actually calling out his name while touching yourself.

soon enough, your fingers were plunging themselves as deep as they could go inside your pulsating core; renjun’s hips fucking his fist as fast as his body allowed him. loud moans and groans filled both of your rooms, neither of you bothering to keep quiet inside your empty homes.

both your orgasms came faster than you thought, thighs shaking as you both threw your heads back, crying out each other's names. renjun shot his load, his seed dripping down his hand, eyes focused on you as your walls clenched around your fingers, juices running down and staining your bedsheets.

your chests heaved with every pant you let out as you tried to control your uneven breathing, neither of you moving a muscle as you stared into each other's eyes.

~.~.~.~

the second time renjun got to see you put on a private show for him was slightly different. 

this time, you weren’t exactly alone.

bitterness filled renjun’s body as he saw a guy, who he thinks looks an awful lot like one of his classmates, entering your room, hands intertwined with yours. his mouth fell agape when you closed your door and made your way towards the guy, who was sitting on the edge of your bed. he saw you straddle him, hands going to his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.

renjun couldn’t see the guy, as his back was facing the window, but he didn’t need to, he could tell where his hands had travelled and it made him feel sick to the stomach. he didn’t like one bit of it, standing there by his window with a clenched jaw.

he wanted to be the one there with you, sitting on your bed with you perched on his lap while the two of you kissed. he wanted to run his hands along your body, softly caressing your sides. hold your smaller hands in his bigger ones, comparing them and laughing happily at the difference. tell you how beautiful you were and how he thought you were a work of art that blessed his eyes every time he looked at you.

it hurt his heart to see you with someone else that wasn’t him, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. not with the way your eyes had wandered out of your window until they locked with his. he was about to yeet himself out of this world, hand reaching to close his curtains until you smiled at him.

you just smiled. at him. after catching him staring, again. while you were with another guy.

renjun stood frozen, hand mid-air, not knowing, again, what to do with himself. seeming to notice his internal conflict, you resolved you could be a nice neighbour and put on a show, just for his eyes to witness.

it was like a switch had been flipped inside of you.

he saw how your expression changed and he didn’t know if he should have been afraid.

with one of your hands, you pushed daehyun’s chest –the guy you were with– so he was laying down. the new position was perfect for renjun to see everything; he could see your hands pressed against his chest, hips hovering over his and hair covering your pretty face.

he tried to ignore the way the guy’s hands explored your body, feeling every part of you.

without breaking eye contact with renjun, you pulled daehyun by the collar and connected, once again, your lips. he propped himself in a more comfortable position, resting on his forearms. you pressed yourself down on him, rutting against his groin and earning a groan.

the bulge in renjun’s pants was getting more noticeable as time passed, but this time he didn’t restrain himself from touching himself.

two could play this game.

clothes flew all around the room as you both undressed. you pushed daehyun so he was laying on the bed. after rolling a condom on his shaft, you straddled him again, his hands coming to rest on your hips and help you grind on his length pressed against his stomach. a sigh fell from your lips as his hip bone came in contact with your sensitive clit.

with one of your hands holding onto his shoulder, you positioned yourself right above his dick. and as much as renjun despised the idea of someone else being so intimate with you, he was still curious about how you looked like when being pleasured. he wanted to see how your face contorted in ecstasy when cumming undone.

as he saw the guy’s cock ease into you, he tried to ignore the burning feeling in his throat.

lower lip caught between your teeth to prevent blurting out renjun’s name instead of daehyun’s, you couldn’t help yourself but imagine him instead of the man currently thrusting up into you.

you wanted him, not daehyun. as hot as you thought the latter was, something in the way renjun looked at you as his hand moved, trying to replicate the rhythm of your hips, turned you on to no end. you wished you were gripping into renjun’s shoulders instead, tugging at his hair, while he pounded into you and his fingers played with your clit.

and oh, how he wished he was that asshole.

definitely, you behaving so dirty under his intense gaze without a trace of shame, eyes never leaving him instead of looking at the guy you were with, was such a turn on for him. it made him think that, hopefully, you craved him just as much as he craved you.

daehyun kept ramming into you, both hands resting against the mattress and leaving your clit unattended. you internally scoffed, reaching out to get the job done by yourself. renjun seemed to understand your upset state as he visibly scowled, glaring at daehyun.

the asshole was only focused on chasing after his own orgasm, without thinking the smallest bit of the beautiful girl sitting on top of him.

renjun huffed angrily, he surely could treat you better. he would prioritize your pleasure before his, stay hard for a whole day without complaining if it meant he could make you feel good.

if only he could take care of you just how you deserve.

he could sense the change in your demeanour as soon as your fingers got to work, and he took a mental note to treasure this piece of information and make good use of it if he ever got the chance.

soon, the tightening knot in your lower tummy snapped and just like that you were cumming, squeezing around daehyun as he groaned, thrusting harder. your eyes closed, head tilting to the side and hands gripping the sheets while sloppily grinding down on him.

“so pretty, fuck,” renjun’s hips stuttered while his hot seed dripped down to stain his pants, a guttural groan leaving his chest. 

and yet another pair of pants ruined.

but he wouldn’t mind dirtying more if it was because of you.

he reached for some tissues from his nightstand as he looked away, sudenly feeling ashamed.

renjun usually prided himself on thinking objectively before acting, but he was aware that letting all this happen wasn’t one of his wisest decisions.

or was it?

–lia:)

[ruby-whistler]

Alright curious anon here. All this is /dsmp /rp from here on out unless otherwise specified and is refering to characters. If i make any mistakes or am misinformed please let me know! So by the cat was nothing compared to mushroom henry i was meaning more toward the fact that the cow was killed as a punishment for something not worth or ok for it to be killed for at all and the fact that it belonged to tommy, wheareas the cat was killed more to annoy dream and belonged to tommy. (1/?)

alright then another lengthy reply, here i come! /lh /dsmp /rp

Dream also did not seem to mourn the cat much, shrugging it off with a "just more motivation to break out".

it was killed to hurt dream, not to "annoy him". it doesn't matter who it belonged to, c!dream was attached to it and it died, which had an effect on him and also further proved his point about attachments being weakness and caring getting you hurt, and it's still very sad.

you say that it was not ok at all to kill mooshroom henry, but the cat's death wasn't ok either, so i really don't see your point.

again, i disagree it was "nothing compared to" either way. i never meant to compare them in the first place, i was simply talking about the cat and c!dream so i don't see why it is in any way necessary to drag c!tommy and other dead pets into this. /nm

also, it isn't true he didn't mourn it. he is a very reserved person who doesn't show his feelings much, that's true, but the cat death still changed the way he acted afterwards, as well as the attempts he made to prevent it. he didn't "shrug it off", he yelled about it because he was understandably upset.

You mentioned that propganda was used to make dream seem like a tyrant, could you specify a bjt? Cus im a little confused srry /gen. Because the most i can remember from the lmanburg era at least is him being called a b'tch or other similar insults. You also mentioned how trauma responses can be differet which is true! I agree! Do you have any ideas to what caused dream the trauma?

wilbur would continuously make him out to be some sort of oppressive, tyrannical force, in front of his troops - a prime example of this being the lyrics of the l'manberg anthem itself and the l'manberg declaration of independence.

actually! here's a nice thread about l'manberg's establishment complete with links, timestamps and evidence :]

i also said in my previous post what could've possibly caused it, but since the character intentionally hides his emotions from the public, it would be difficult to see how things really affected him - which is why the way his spiral went is the majority of the evidence that would imply it, however it does make sense within the story as well with what i mentioned last time.

I would like to note that for sapnap at least had reason to leave dream. Some examples off the top of my head are dream leading an angry fundy to sapnap's pets on purpose, resulting in some deaths, dream assisting tommy in burning down sapnap's effiel tower where he got engaged to karl, and dream giving tommy either mars or the other fish at the battle of the lake. Idk about george tho other then the whole mexican lmanburg/el rapids thing and decrowning him

c!sapnap was actually at fault for most of this, and it wasn't really ever betrayal on c!dream's part.

c!dream is a mediator and he wants to stop everyone's conflict - c!fundy was angry because of c!sapnap's actions, and hence it made more sense for c!dream to centre him on c!sapnap's animals instead of running around killing everyone's pets (at that time, all c!dream knew was c!sapnap did something really bad and c!fundy wanted beckerson / mars from him, which were also his and c!george's fish).

c!sapnap was an instigator, and in multiple conflicts during the time as well as before he'd align himself against c!dream. he isn't "loyal" per se, he causes chaos and the reason c!dream helped c!tommy was because, c!sapnap, again, killed his pet. the first l'manberg war and then the 16th are signs of the fact that c!dream and c!sapnap were willing to fight together in actual war, but these small conflicts where c!sapnap continuously picked fights weren't about personal loyalty, nor did they seem to affect their relationship at all.

c!george was never really hurt by c!dream either. the dethronement was him very obviously being a guilt-trippy drama queen, but, well, that's just the character. he had stolen the l'mantree while he was supposed to be the diplomatic figure of the greater smp, which is why c!dream was justified in - very politely, may i mention - taking the duties off of him (seeing as he was also trying to keep him safe and c!techno had already assassinated him once).

Im pretty sure i remember cc!sam stating that his character never canonically physically tortured dream during his subathon but take this with a grain of salt as i am looking for the clip currently. So to the best of my knowledge dream did not have a physical contact trigger during tommy's visit which! I rewatched the vod and dream actually was first to hit tommy and i can give you my full writing downs but 10/12 of the phy-

you never finished this point because you had to go do something, but i'll reply to what is here at the moment (i suggest writing these down before sending next time, or even writing them out wholly before sending a single one could help avoid stuff like this).

i am 95% sure that the reason cc!sam stated this was because people were suspicious he had already been doing what c!quackity was doing after - torture within the storyline itself is associated pretty much only with what c!quackity is doing, so that's what he meant, just to clear up confusion - the starvation or terrible conditions haven't been retconned, but it was direct torture (like c!quackity is doing) people were asking him about.

i never said c!dream had a physical contact trigger at all, i don't think he had that, though he probably will after the torture.

huh, ok, i'm gonna have to rewatch then, but i remember c!tommy punching c!dream a lot and him just telling him to stop and only punching back to get him to stop. trigger or not, getting hit isn't very pleasant, if you know what i mean.

You mentioned tommy stealing dream's armor unprovoked. Do you have the vod or a general idea of the time so i can find it? Like before lmanburg after another event so and so because if you do not have it i can find it but any help is appreciated.

i am pretty sure you can find the video on cc!tommy's channel! there are also recaps of the disc war on youtube :]

I wanna talk a little on why the Final Control Room was so messed up. For starters, with the way the room was designed. It was small, and had labeled, empty chests with each person's name on them as a mockery. The next reason is that its bascially a kill box.

It's fairly inescapble with the stairs being ones you have to jump up, slowing anyone who climbs them down. The final reason it is messed up is that it is shown to have caused every person who died in it trauma. With tommy there are several examples, the time he saw it with techno, the way he refuses to go near it, the exposure trauma, etc. Fundy also appears to have trauma, as when the Red Banquet executions began, it can be seen as him being afraid of dying last again.

It can Be thought as tubbo having trauma because he buries most of his issues and pretends to be ok. Moreover this event took at least one of each person's canon lives, making it the most canon lives lost EVER in a dream smp event. (This is not hate on any of the ccs btw i loved this scene and its one of my personal favorites). Plus the fact Eret's betrayal just literally happened, giving at least Tommy and Wilbur canonic trust issues.

i wouldn't call the chests mockery? it was a trap. people had traps on the smp before. it was a trap in the middle of war, supposed to end said war by killing them all at once rather than individually which would be a lot more bloody and difficult.

i agree c!tommy and other people might have post-war trauma, especially if they were young during the time, but i think that's because the final control room was "messed up", moreso because the war itself was. it all happened fairly instantly as well? i don't think c!fundy would be able to realize he was the last one standing within the two second before he wasn't.

it "can be thought" and it can be interpreted like that but besides c!tommy there isn't much evidence for them "all" being traumatized by the final control room. of course betrayal would spark trust issues, i understand that.

The probation was humiliating in my opinion because dream was Sending tommy anatgonizing messages through out the whole meeting, plus he had to write a review of his day every single day, which fundy mocked him for.

i mean, it was definitely a strike to his pride, but he was being extremely uncooperative so i don't really blame the other members of new l'manberg trying to teach him to listen for once? of course i know c!dream was riling him up, and that should definitely be considered. i don't think it would be as humiliating if c!tommy didn't make it, is what i'm saying.

for the tommy being toxic to fundy? At least for the examples you gave, to me personally they come acoross as either in a meta way being the cc's bantering or in canon being the characters having banter. If you can send the post with the clips so i can read the tone better that would be cool but if not i will try and find em.

no, these were all in canon. canon isn't only when c!tommy is being nice, it's also when he's being a jerk. /lh

the first one was him threatening c!fundy about kicking him out of l'manberg and undermining his self-worth, and the second one was him trying to get c!sapnap to vote for them via bullying c!fundy.

i found these from a transcript focusing on c!fundy's character, so i don't know exactly where the first one is from, but the second one i am pretty sure is from when the elections were starting with the whole cabinet battle deal and all of that.

there are other instances, and all of them are canon. his personality was never being nice or compassionate, so i'm not really surprised? he still cares about the people he cares about and is very brave, y'know. but this part of his personality is definitely a valid reason for people to dislike him.

I hope the exam went well :). Hope u have a great day! (Ps i think theres something called a submission box to send in pictures? Am not entirely sure sry)

it would've gone well but my work-speed is a tad too slow for the schooling system (considering i'm three years younger than my classmates,,, probably that's also a factor) so probably not despite the fact i knew everything and would've aced it if i only had more time. i did as well as i could so i'm not worried about it, but thanks!

i think you're thinking submissions. sadly, i tested it and it doesn't work on anons, so idk how you'd solve that, maybe make a burner account?

Curious anon here one point you may wanna include in the redemption essay is that c!tubbo or c!tommy do not necessarily have to forgive him. What's important is that he recognizes what he did was wrong (exile, beating tommy to death, manipulating them both, etc) and does his best to make amends. Hope this helps! Can't wait to see your essay

it's out, idk if you've seen it yet, and i think i included enough of that so hope it's all good! :)

the mcc update video is out if you are an mcc enjoyer. It's very neat, if you wanna check it out

yeah! i am a fellow mcc enjoyer, saw it already, thanks for telling me though, i'm really hype for today.

Allo curious anon here sorry if the lots of asks bother you. I was just curious if i could share an interesting post i saw today about c!dream :0 (not necessarily negative i think? More of a statement of an often-confused canon)

sure thing! i don't know what you mean by often-confused since, the entire fanbase is very confused always, and often selection bias plays into the perception from both sides, but sure :]

you also sent in a thing for the other anon who said they didn't know what c!dream did that bad; pretty sure they couldn't really be alerted since, not sure if they watch my blog that closely, but i'll summarize your points just in case and add some notes;

the repeated blowing up of l'manberg (in my mind that's largely a positive since i,, despise that country, but fair enough), revealed c!ranboo as a traitor (they seem to be friends so i also,, think that might've been planned between him and enderboo), sent ghostbur away (i don't think c!dream knew it was dangerous for him and wanted to actually hurt him, but idk), participated in fighting against c!sapnap when he killed people's pets (that's only negative against c!sapnap and didn't seem to hurt him much at all), and then the whole vault scene where he was allegedly planning to steal people's things (though saying he would & being stopped beforehand and doing it are two different things, frankly).

so i still agree with the other anon that a lot of the hurt he did "to the entire server" (he only negatively interacted with like,, a half of them) is exaggerated both by the characters and the fandom, but i guess that's a consequence of most people seeing him as a threat to everyone's happiness rather than a complex personality.

Also he was aware of the butcher army going to kill techno but only got involved because he saw an opportunity to get a favor. (As he knew in advance due to him telling techno to get a totem, watching from afar instead of interveing or manipulating tubbo out of it)

i don't understand this at all, i'm sorry. how do you know he only helped techno in order to get a favor? last i remember he was only doing it to protect and strengthen his alliance, and techno came up with the whole favor thing entirely on his own. you might've not watched techno's perspective or their prior interactions, idk, but this really is a misinterpretation in my eyes. /nm

sorry if that is overly dream negative i just wanted to let yall know cus you seemed unaware -curious anon

nah dw, i watch the smp and i watched all of these things happen so, wouldn't say unaware, but thanks.

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Sweet Smiles and Twinkly Eyes

Week Five of the SarahBucky Month @fleurdelouvemonth/@fleurdelouve

Day Four: Newlyweds: Blanket Forts

(W1,D1 / W1,D2 / W2,D1 / W2,D3 / W2,D4 / W2,D5 / W3,D2 / W3,D4 / W4,D3 / W4,D5 / W5,D1 / W5,D2)

And that’s now my last submission for this event! It was lots of fun but I’ll never do this much for one event ever again haha <3 Honestly tho, the best part is that this SarahBucky month singlehandedly brought my Muse back from her hiding; I haven’t been able to write anything since February or so, and even though most submissions were drabbles with maybe three exceptions or so, it’s still more than what I was able to write just a month ago. Hopefully, it’ll last like this for a little while longer before the next block hits :)

Thank you to everyone who liked my boards and fics and left me some lovely words on them <3 Now onto the last ficlet:

T, 874 words, Honeymoon, Domestic Fluff | AO3

It’s the quiet giggle that wakes him. Bucky needs a moment to orient himself and to realize that Sarah’s side of the bed is empty and cold. Even her pillows are gone which creates confusion. Sure, the hotel they’re staying at provided a lot of blankets—Sarah and Bucky had a great laugh over it the other night before just tossing everything on the small couch at the end of the room—but there is no reason for the pillows she slept on to be gone now.

Before he can call out to her and ask what’s going on, however, he hears a rustle followed by another muffled giggle, probably trying not to wake him, unaware that he already is. Bucky can’t help but smile at the joyful sound of his wife’s voice.

His wife.

That’s something he still can’t believe is real. The wedding was three days ago and he has since spent at least an hour each day staring in amazement at the golden band made to fit on his vibranium hand. Because he’s married now. To Mrs. Sarah Wilson-Barnes, the woman of his dreams.

Love, marriage, a happy ending—that’s not something Bucky dared to hope for after everything that’s happened. Until Sarah came into his life and sparked a new flame within him, he thought lost forever. She only had to smile the first time and he’d been gone on her ever since. Now he wakes up with the love of his life in his arms and a bright future right before his eyes.

Well, except for today, because in his arms she certainly is not.

“Sarah?” he asks into the empty space. A quick gaze through the room lets him locate her increasing giggles instantly at the couch where the spare blankets weren’t thrown over anymore but built almost into the shape of a tent.

“Oh, you’re awake!” her head suddenly pops out of the blanket-tent, a wide grin on her face and a shiny touch on her cheeks betraying her blush. She’s put her braids into a quick, messy bun, and Bucky’s eyes instantly focus onto the straps of her lacy bra peeking through the blankets. He can’t quite stop the low growl at the thought of a different morning wake-up, namely her body atop of his and his hands all over her.

Bucky knows Sarah must’ve heard him and that she must know exactly where his thoughts just wandered, but her smile only widens as she says, “Come on, get your pillow and blanket over here and help me with the roof; it doesn’t want to hold the way I imagine it to.”

“What are you even doing there?”

“Well, what does it look like to you?”

At Bucky’s complete silence she rolls her eyes and explains, “It’s a blanket fort! I woke up a bit earlier and when I looked at all those blankets, I thought it would be such a waste not to use them. So I found a solution! Now get your pretty ass here and help me stabilize the roof while I pretend I’m doing something and not just staring at your naked butt.”

God, he loves this woman so much.

This isn’t even what he had in mind for today. He planned to devour Sarah for breakfast, then lunch, and then dinner too. And maybe do some sightseeing around the city, but mostly to keep her in bed all day long and have his sweet way with her.

However, Sarah clearly seems to have set different plans already. And how is he ever supposed to say no to that sweet smile and the cheeky twinkle in her eye? He’s just a weak man and this woman has him entirely wrapped around her little finger.

Still, he crosses his arms, pouts and mumbles in the whiniest voice he can muster, “No. Not until I get my well-deserved good morning kiss from my wife who is all over there at the other end of the room instead of in my arms.”

Her following reaction is definitely not one he expected. “Oh well, what a shame. Seems like I’ll have to use the special lube I recently bought and have right here with me all by myself then.”

Bucky has never got out of bed faster. Growling, he crosses the room in three quick steps and lifts Sarah into his arms who instinctively wraps her legs around his waist. Her delighted laugh is like music to his ears but he doesn’t feel like waiting anymore, so he cuts her off with a deep all-consuming kiss.

“You,” he mutters in between kisses, “are such a tease.”

Her oh-so-innocent smile doesn’t waver in the slightest as she says, “You love it though.”

And by God, he does. Just when he’s about to engage her into another kiss, her hand on his chest prevents him from continuing. “Nu-uh. Business before pleasure. I need you to flex those muscles for me, Mister.”

Another growl escapes him before he slowly sets her down again. “Aye, aye Mrs. Barnes,” he replies and watches in amusement as she disappears back into her fort again, giggling.

Well, then. That damn roof better hold, or so help him, he’ll burn those blankets down.