#it doesn't even sound like a jet engine any more

[strangefable]

bloatware i hate you.

especially from you microsoft. stop making me have to fight for my life to get my computer to have only the programs I WANT INSTALLED.

also also. big giant huuuuuuuuuge fuck you to dell for royally fucking me up for so long. never again. you're dead to me.

[livingdeadhorse]

idk what this is. i like robots. i’ll clean these up later. i think.

anyways while drawing these I started thinking abt like. idk does this count as an AU.

General shit:

I didn't make it clear, but the robots that have pupils were built without a hardcoded purpose. They've always been free to explore what they want to do. The robots with fully colored "scleras" were created with a purpose from the jump, so their creators didn't feel the need to make them appear more "human".

The more expensive a robot's parts are, the less clunky it is.

Right now, I'm going with "their human family built them" but that's liable to change.

The designs are also liable to change because uh. duh.

Celestia Ludenberg:

Viewed the robots with an imbued purpose as interesting and superior (something something humanity's advancement). She wants to be praised like that, so she emulates them

Her cat loves how much heat she radiates so it's always near her.

Most of her upgrades are cosmetic but if they aren't, they're stupid. She won't upgrade her CPU or her motherboard, but she'll load up with three 4090s that her other components can't even keep up with. Yes, she does it to flex.

She'll distract from bootleg, refurbished, or shoddily painted parts by turning on her RGB. It gets annoying.

She knows that she's fairly unsettling and she revels in it.

All things considered, her cable management is pretty good.

Her gambling skill is still just luck here, but she tells everyone it's because she has a never-seen-before GPU(& CPU) that does calculations at insane speeds.

Most don't believe her but have no way to disprove her lie.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

I can't decide if he was built by his father or his grandfather.

Either way, he was built before Toranosuke's downfall, so his internals were all pretty expensive for the time. Luckily for him, that means he was slightly future-proof and has a viable upgrade path.

Unluckily for him, this means he's stuck with really old parts and his 8gb of RAM can barely keep up in a 32gb world sadge

His chassis is built from secondhand or scrap parts. It's why his joints are so ancient in comparison to the rest of him and why he has so much cabling that he can't seem to manage.

Shit chassis = shit airflow = he is always overheating

BUDDY IS YOUR CPU BURNING HOW IS THERE SMOKE

Older tech = LOUD AF. The class bought him new fans to avoid the loud ass whirring. It's not quiet but he used to sound like a jet engine.

He runs on Debian. It was originally going to be Arch since it's lightweight but Debian's whole "old but stable" reputation fits him more. I don't see him properly dealing with bleeding edge software anyways.

His room is filled with past HDDs that no longer have storage. He deems all educational material important so he refuses to delete any lessons. He doesn't have the money for SSDs.

Mukuro Ikusaba:

Is usually in reconnaissance mode, meaning she has a shit ton of hidden cameras in her chassis

This used to benefit Fenrir. Now it benefits Junko.

She can have her parts shifted around with no issue to make room for a better arsenal.

She’s durable in her reconnaissance mode but she’s nigh on untouchable in her combat mode. Her chassis gets 10x bulkier and she can split her attention to several different tasks on the battlefield.

Fenrir Mercenary Group doubles as a weapons company. Mukuro is the only model of her kind though.

They tried to give her reconnaissance model the look of a “normal girl” so she could gather info more efficiently. They failed real bad. They also didn’t account for the fact that Mukuro isn’t good at socializing.

She allocates a CPU core to a process dedicated to Junko. 24/7 365

She believes herself to be less capable of emotion than she actually is. She can’t seem to find the system process that triggers such painful emotions.

Chihiro Fujisaki

Each “fold” in her skirt doubles as a screen. Think of the skirt as having two layers: the top shell and the under shell. The top shell is what doubles as a screen.

Optimized her hardware to work on code as fast as possible (fingers, skirt, etc).

She tends to test out new software on herself regardless of their compatibility with her pre-existing shit. She constantly has to reinstall her OS, but it’s all fun for her.

Speaking of her OS, I was going to make her run on Gentoo but IDK cause of the compile times. It’d be faster if she used distcc but I can’t see her screwing over her classmates like that lol.

So I’m between Nix and Arch.

Insecure about the fact that she overhauled her original model so extensively. Got made fun of for being a ‘defective’ robot. Her father supports her modifications but she still feels bad about having ‘failed’ somehow.

Cue identity issues

She helps out her classmates when it comes to repairs.

Tendency to stay up programming leads to high uptimes. If her friends notice her lagging or crashing, they’ll try to get her to shut down. (In a computer sense lol, not an emotional shut down)

Do y’all remember the xz utils backdoor? Yeah that’s how extensively she combs through code.

Sayaka Maizono

I can’t decide if she was built to be an idol or was originally some other type of robot.

Loves to make kids smile, so she has a sort of candy mechanism in her arm.

Everything about her glows or spins. You will never get bored looking at her.

Her skirt isn’t actually see through I just didn’t feel like erasing the hip joints lmao.

If corpos give her manager enough money, she has to perform with literal ads on her.

State-of-the art facial recognition software. It makes her fans feel special to have their names remembered.

She has a regular sleep cycle due to how load-intensive her everyday life is. Has to shut down for a couple hours every week at least.

Her psychic ability is just her running a million calculations based on people’s behavior and sensing which one is most plausible. This feature is in place to avoid PR disasters during interviews or public appearances.

There really aren’t enough worker’s rights regulations in place for robots.

The company gets alerts whenever she freaks tf out, so she feels even more stifled and repressed. Chihiro helped remove this.

Kyoko Kirigiri

Can’t decide if she was built by her father or grandfather. Probably just built by Jin and he “left” her in Fuhito’s care.

Fuhito made her go through several modifications, hardcoding his own investigative skills into her system.

Her grandfather loves her but has fucked up ideas about her own autonomy.

The events of DR:K still happen. She chose not to replace her hands.

Fuhito doesn’t make much use of a backdoor in her system anymore. He used it a lot more when she was a child but he sees her as a viable heir of the Kirigiri clan now. Chihiro isolated the backdoor to a separate SSD anyhow.

Still complicated father-daughter issues

Everything about her (but her OS) is proprietary, probably commissioned from Towa Industries. Her OS is a fork of Mint. The Windows 7 UI is just because I imagine her grandfather is One of Those lmao.

Has way too many scanners and sensors. She can’t test any evidence herself but she can gather a fair bit of information. Has a vast database for cross-comparison anyways.

Same issues as Togami and Mukuro: sees herself as less capable of emotion than she actually is.

The ramen noodle incident called for actual repairs.

Byakuya Togami

His superiority complex is far worse because he was literally CREATED to be the perfect Togami. You can’t tell him shiiiiiiit.

Gold joints. Scoffs at those with unoptimized cable management or software.

He’s constantly streamlining his own processes. Brings up that he runs on his own OS when Nobody Asked.

Had a similar backdoor to Kyoko’s but Koji did check that one. Obsessively. Nobody would tell Byakuya but He Just Knew. The lack of privacy irritated him. Aloysius helped fix it once Togami finally took over.

Only trusts Aloysius with his repairs. Has a hard time admitting when he needs repairs in the first place so Aloysius hides it under “monthly maintenance”.

Does everything from the terminal even when he 1) shouldn’t and 2) can’t. Bragging rights. He has written a bunch of his own scripts though to speed things up.

Kernel and OS provided to him by Koji. (UNIX-based. Proprietary) Byakuya maintains and builds his own updates. Doesn’t trust cheapskate peasants to do it for him.

Anti-FOSS. For him at least.

Has glasses for the aesthetics. Doesn’t need them.

[rosenclaws]

Come back (erased part ii) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Logan doesn't remember you but he can sense you. He can tell you were someone important so when the team hatches a plan to find you he's the one leading the charge.

warnings: she/her pronouns, violence, killing, blood, reader gets hit/threatened, mental torture, injuries, logan goes feral, illusions.

wc: 3.5k

link to part 1

a/n: Part two is here!! Finally omfg im sorry this took so long. I hope this is a good part two i had a fun time writing the angst and stuff. It maybe ended a little darker than I meant but oh welll. We love some angst. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

The sound of the grandfather clock echoes in Logan's ears. The faint sound of students walking around the halls, playing outside. All drowned out by the clock. The heart necklace sits in his palm, his rough fingers tracing the shape over and over again.

When Logan had gotten back to the mansion he was bombarded with questions. All about a person he had never heard of. He grew angry and confused, wondering who they were talking about. It wasn't until he saw the look on all their faces that he realized something was wrong.

Memory wiped. He was fucking memory wiped again. Charles tried to explain it all but his brain went fuzzy. He tried to restore them but whatever you had done was too powerful. Only faint distant feelings. They tried to jog his memories with pictures but nothing worked. Whoever you were you were, you and him were close.

He's got a look on his face that he doesn't even recognize. One of pure adoration. The stories they tell, it was like hearing stories of someone else. He went through his room. He could smell this faint vanilla scent. The same one from the motel room. It was you. He was with you. But just who are you?

He turns the heart around in his hands. It’s faintly familiar. He closes his eyes and tries to wrack his brain for anything. Just something. There's a gaping hole in his chest, a sense of dread and something lost. A surge of anger takes over him as he shoves the necklace back in his pocket. He feels helpless and confused and he fucking hates it.

They're planning something in Chuck's office and they kicked him out. Why he doesn't know. They're planning a rescue for you and apparently he was the most important person to you so why wouldn't he be in there. Even if he doesn't remember. He should be in there. He stands up and barges through the doors, not caring anymore.

"Tell me what the hell is going on. Now." He stands with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face.

"Logan..." Jean starts but he brushes her off.

"I don't fucking care if I don't remember her just fucking tell me the mission." They team exchange looks and Logan resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's not a child. Whether he remembers you or not you were important to him and to the team. He needs to get you back.

"The mutant group, apparently she knew of them. She used to work with them years ago before any of us knew her." Charles explains and Logan listens. His hands tightening into a fist.

"We believe that she went after them for reasons we do not know. But what we do know is that they're dangerous. More dangerous than what she remembers." He can feel somethings off. The way the team shifts in their seats. The way Ororo won't even look him in the eyes.

"Logan, we think they have her." Scott says slowly.

"So we go find her."

"It's not that simple-"

"No it really fucking is that simple." Logan growls.

"You all talk about her like she's the heart of the fucking mansion so why am I the one who seems to care the most right now! I can't even remember her!" Logan slams his fist hard onto the table it almost breaks.

Why aren't they as worried as he is? Why don't they seem to care? Silence casts over the room but slowly everyone nods, agreeing with him.

"We leave in 15." He says with such severity that no one argues. Logan turns and leaves. Ready to come and find you.

-

The jet engine hum is the only sound inside. Everyone is quiet. Waiting. Normally Logan hates flying but right now he's too focused on getting you back. His eyes are closed as he tries to pull anything from his head. The faint sound of laughter, the feeling of warmth, the smell of vanilla. All of it was right there. Locked behind a door he couldn't get through. He feels someone sit in the seat next to him.

"What." He growls as he turns the necklace in his hand around and around.

"Are you okay?" It's storms voice. He sighs and opens his eyes.

"Just fine." She's quiet for a moment before she decides to talk.

"We're going to find her Logan." She says with a confidence he just doesn't have.

"You and her, I've never seen two people more meant for each other. She made you happy and you made her feel less alone." He wishes he remembered you.

He really does.

He can't think of all the moments he's been told about or the pictures that have been taken. He doesn't know what it was like to love you or to be loved by you anymore. It kills him. If he was happy, if you made him happy, then he's lost it all. Why would you take that away? From him and from you. Why couldn't you trust him with this?

Even though his memories are gone he can feel this sense of worry building in his chest. He needs you to be okay. He needs to protect you. Fuck he doesn't even remember you but that deep primal urge is still there.

"Five minutes out. Everyone brace for landing." Logan tucks the necklace into his suit, keeping it close to his heart as he unsheathes his claws and waits for landing. He will find you. There's no other option for him.

-

Your whole body ached. After leaving Logan you tracked down Mack and his gang but they had the one up on you. New, powerful mutants. They already knew you were coming the second you had the thought. They ambushed you. Attacked you and rendered you useless. They should have just killed you but Mack wanted to keep you. To lure your team out as a trap.

"They aren't coming." You hiss as he stands in front of you. He's crouching down and grinning.

"I don't know sweetheart, my sources tell me there's someone on the team who is quite fond of you." He brushes your cheek and you recoil in disgust.

"Get your fucking hands off me." He chuckles and one of his followers hit you hard in your leg.

"Feisty. Tell me, is that because of Logan? Did he rub off on you?" Your blood runs cold. If they do anything to him.

"Don't touch him." You lunge at Mack but you're restrained. to the ground. Mack presses his foot onto your throat and his smirk turns into something dark.

"You're funny. Tell you what." He puts more pressure on your neck and you start to see dots in your vision.

"When the Wolverine gets here we'll make him watch you die...and then kill him." Mack laughs and another hard blow to your head sends you into darkness.

You can only hope that Logan stays far, far away from this.

-

He can hear them. Fucking idiots not even trying to hide. They're bragging, laughing. Well they won’t be laughing for long. Logan’s claws gleam under the moonlight as he stalks like an animal.

The plan was to create a diversion while a rescue team goes in to get you. He wasn’t exactly know for his subtlety but no one wanted to argue him being the one to find you. It was a one man rescue team.

The sky rumbles and a loud explosion from far away leads the mutant group away. Logan springs into action. He takes out the few bodyguards around camp with ease.

He finds you alone and unguarded. A sense of relief washing over him as he bends down and scoops you up in his arms. Though he can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. That this was too easy.

“Logan?” Your voice is quiet, broken.

“Hey, we’re gonna get you out of here.” He gently holds you as he looks for a way out.

“No.” You say. Your voice stronger than before. Confusion washes over him as you push him away. The injuries on your body seemed to disappear as the world fades around him.

“You think I want you to save me? I ran away from you Logan. Couldn’t you get the fucking hint?” Your words spit like venom. You were not the person he thought you were.

“It was all a lie, a cover.” His claws come out, teeth baring as his anger grows. But then he catches a whiff of someone unfamiliar. He hears the faint calling of his name.

“Yeah?” He walks closer to you. A taunting look on your face. Without warning he swings his claws right next to your face.

“Tell him that it will take more than a weak illusion to fool me.” Logan whispers in your ear.

Slowly the world he thought was reality melts away. Your tied up, held by force by one of Mack’s followers. Had he given in and swung at you he would have killed you. That must have been their plan. He looks to the side to see a body with three claw marks on the ground.

“Well, you’re smarter than I thought. Well done Wolvie.” He hears a slow clap behind him.

”Fuck off bub,” Logan growls as he holds up his claws. Ready to pounce. He hears the rustling around him. He’s not alone, they’re hiding, waiting.

“It’s a shame really, we would have gotten along great.” Mack smirks as Logan grows angrier.

“Fat fucking chance.” Logan lunges at Mack but he’s tackled to the ground. Held down by some sort of force he can’t fight.

“You may be physically strong but let’s see how you do when someone fucks with your mind. Just like she did.” Logan struggles baring his teeth as he tries to fight out of whatever hold they have him under.

“Stop!” You cry out. Your voice is strained and tears are falling down your cheeks.

“Mack please, just leave him alone.” You fight out of the grip on you with all your strength. Falling to the ground roughly. Your hands are still tied behind your back as you struggle to get up.

“Please don’t hurt him.” Your desperate.

Mack stands up crouches over you. He grabs your face roughly, digging his nails into your face tightly. Logan growls when he sees you wince in pain.

“Aww so cute.” He taunts and throws you to the ground.

“The question is which one of you has the biggest hero complex hm? You left us because you thought we were wrong, evil. You wanted to play hero.”

“What we did was wrong Mack. We hurt innocent people for our own good.” Logan stares at you and you can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eyes.

You can’t bare to see that look of nothing. He doesn’t know who you are and its your fault. But this is for the best. You can get him out of here and he can walk away from you without the pain.

You feel a sharp pain as Mack slaps you hard. “We were surviving!” He yells.

“Why should we care about the world when they don’t care about us!” He takes out a pocket knife and you tense up.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Logan roars and Mack just grins.

With a snap of his fingers one of the other mutants starts to crush Logan. It was a subtle pressure at first but he could feel the discomfort. They were sinking him into the ground. They were going to bury him alive. You can see a flash of panic. He hates that suffocating feeling. So reminiscent of his nightmares.

“Mack please, we were family once.” You beg as you watch Logan struggle. You can’t let them do this to him.

“Stop please!” Mack grabs your face and makes you watch.

“We were but you picked a new family. Now you can watch him suffocate.” Your eyes meet with Logan’s and you start to cry. He’s afraid. Its your fault. This is all your fault.

“I’ll stay! I’ll stay and help you again just let him go!” You cry out. The weight is lifted off Logan and he scrambles to breathe.

“I promise. I won’t fight and I won’t run. Just please, leave him alone.” Mack thinks for a moment, its a tempting offer. Your powers are strong and he was never able to find anyone quite like you.

“No! Logan shouts, he can’t let you do this. Not for him.

“You got yourself a deal. But if you ever try anything. We’ll hunt him down and kill him. Then the rest of your little family.” Your eyes flash with fear and you nod.

Logan’s heart twists as he sees the broken look on your face. You’re condemning yourself to a torturous life for him. When you look at him he feels a horrible feeling. He longs for you. Your eyes are full of a love he’s missing from his life. You love him and he can’t even remember what it was like. Did you calm his nightmares? Keep his deepest secrets? Did you know all his faults and choose to love him anyways? He needs to know. They pick him up and force him onto his knees.

"Tell your team to stay away." Mack wraps his hand around your neck, his knife pressing against your skin, taunting Logan.

"Logan...I love you and I'm sorry." Your voice is raspy as you choke out the words. He needs to know. You smile painfully as Logan just looks at you.

"Go on, run away Wolvie." Mack snarls.

Even in pain your eyes are full of love just looking at him. He was your everything. You love him so much you're willing to sacrifice yourself, your happiness, all of it for him. How? This kind of love...he's never felt this before. He may not remember it all with you but fuck he wants to know what its like. He wants to learn what it was like to be loved by you. He can't let you go. Not when his future happiness is in your hands. The rage builds. He will not leave you. Doesn't matter how much blood will be shed tonight. He will save you.

With a loud roar Logan unsheathes his claws and with all his willpower throws off the weighted feeling. He's like an animal, snarling and growling as he drives his claws into your captors. There's no mercy in the way he takes each and everyone of them out. They try to stop him but when they realize their efforts are futile they start to run.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is cold, void of any emotion as he digs his claws deep into someone chest. Mack's confidence fades as he watches Logan's rampage. He grabs you and tries to run. Dragging you along the forest floor.

"Logan!" You shout and he instantly turns around.

On all fours he uses his claws to launch himself towards you. Chasing Mack down like prey. It's really a pity how fast he catches him. At another time he would have enjoyed playing with him, toying with his fear. All the pain he's caused, not just your pain but the innocent people he's ruined. He deserves to pay.

"Not so tough now huh?" Logan stabs him right through the heart.

When he's sure he's dead he stands up, blood soaking his claws. His head turns to you and you freeze. You know he won't hurt you but apart of you worries this is a trick. Another one of Mack's illusions just to fuck with you. Logan gently bends down and cuts you free.

"He's gone sweetheart." Tears start to fall down your cheeks as he scoops you up in his arms.

"I'm sorry I'm so sorry." You babble over and over as Logan holds you tight. You fit just like a puzzle piece into his arms. This feels right. This feels like home. The sound of footsteps sets him on edge but he calms down when he sees the familiar faces of his team.

"Where the hell were you guys?"

-

No one dared bother Logan. They let him take you back to the jet. He held you the whole time. Even when you fell asleep from utter exhaustion he kept you close. He was with you every step of the way. Bringing you to the lab, watching as they run tests and stick needles into your arm. On your recovery bed with the ugly white lights he sat until you woke up. Sometimes you stirred, whining and you sounded afraid.

He wonders what fucked up things Mack made you see. The bruises and scars on your body told only half the story. With each fearful sound he wishes he would have taken longer to kill that bastard. But he's gone now and you seem to calm down when he's with you. Sensing him through your sleep.

The necklace sits in his hand. After he got back he had to make sure it was still with him. It was bloodied now, and had some wear and tear from the past. So he busied himself fixing it up, cleaning it until it shined like new. He doesn't know when or why he bought it for you but clearly it was special. The two stones meant something. He knew they did.

When you finally came to he jumped into action. Calling hank to come check on you while he slipped away to get you water. There was a big fuss, people scolding you for leaving and crying from happiness that you were back. Apologizes poured out of your mouth as you faced your family. Logan hung back and watched you be embraced, be loved. Your powers seemed to settle after this. The fear of touching other people was gone as you hugged people without a second thought. He waited and waited until it was just the two of you.

"Hey there," You can barely look at him as he sits in the plastic chair next to your bed.

"Logan I..." You can't get the words out. How do you even begin to apologize.

You bury your face in your hands but Logan isn't having it. He had a lot of questions but they could wait. He takes your hands away from your face, cupping your chin to make you look at him. Your heart breaks a little when you look into those eyes. He still doesn't know you. Of course, his memories are still gone.

"Why did you come? You don't remember me." You ask him. He risked his life for you, he killed for you. The Logan you knew at the start wouldn't have done that for you. Maybe with the team but to risk all of it alone. Why?

"I don't have to remember you to see you were important to me sweetheart, though I would really like those memories back." Of course.

You never took them from him. If anything you locked them away. You couldn't bring yourself to truly erase yourself from his mind. With a gentle touch you release his memories like a tidal wave. They pour into his brain, flooding his senses as memory after memory flash into his mind. Ending with your final moments together in that motel room.

Your first kiss, you told him you loved him. You took that from him. He should be angry with you. You stole his memories just like they did before but when he opens his eyes there's no anger.

Only love.

He smashes his lips onto yours. Capturing you into a heated kiss. This is what he dreamed of. Getting to touch you like this, to show his love. He's rough with his motions. He should be gentler but he can't help himself. Years of desperation building up into this. He can finally hold you, finally claim you as his.

"Logan I'm so sorry." You cry. He shushes you with another kiss.

He doesn't care about that right now. You were afraid and though he wishes you came to him he's just glad to have you back. You scared the fuck out of him.

"I love you too sweetheart, you didn't give me the chance to say it but fuck I love you." You claw at his shirt to get him closer.

You need him to be as close as he can. He ignores the wires and climbs into the bed with you. Situating himself so that you're as close as you can get. Legs intertwined with each other. He takes the necklace and places it around your neck. Clasping it and smiling as it rests above your heart.

"I'll always fight for us sweetheart. I'll fight for you." Even if he doesn't remember you he knew deep down that there was something there. That you were important to him. No one could take that away from him.

You curl into his arms, finally feeling at peace for the first time. Not worried about your powers or about your past. You felt protected and loved. Logan lulls you back to rest promising to keep watch. He knows that what you suffered won't go away easily but he'll be there every step of the way.

Nothing will take you from him again. Not ever. He'll make sure of that.

[impyssadobsessions]

I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!

The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.

Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.

There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.

So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.

Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.

Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.

Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.

Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”

Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...

AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.

Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3

Link to prompt

[yandere-paramour]

after kidnapping reader, how much would your ocs' behavior and personality would change?

would they be more prone to fits of jealousy? would they be more obsessive like maybe monitoring them 24/7? would they try to change the reader?

sorry for all the questions 🫶 luv your work

Vivien

As I said before, Vivien does not want to kidnap Darling, but he will if he has to.

Once he has you nice and safe in his basement where you can't run away, he starts in on his plan to wear you down spoil you.

He makes sure you have every comfort possible. You have a tv with any streaming service you want, all the comfy blankets and snacks and books you want, even a pet if you want it. Anything you ask for, he'll bring it to you within a day. He will spend every minute he's not actively working with you, desperately trying to show you how much he loves you and how patient and kind he is and how he so so so so wants to treat you like royalty and make a family of little princes and princesses with you.

Honestly, he's so sweet and genuine that it's difficult for anyone not to fall in love with him, and he's patient enough to keep this up for months. He just wants to love you and for you to love him back! Is that too much to ask?

However, if you keep your will and still refuse to love him/pretend you love him, he will start to get frustrated. He'll start to demand more couple things with you, like giving you a specially engineered phone that only lets you talk to him and demand you text him pictures of what you're doing and message him while he's at work. He might hold you in his arms so you get used to his gentle touch. He'll slowly manipulate you by talking about how much easier things will be when you give in, how he bets it would be so nice to go outside again and you could have that if you were just good.

Eventually, he will wear you down, but if you were an especially disobedient Darling, he'll keep you on a short leash once you're allowed outside. He'll take you to and from work, always trying to keep tabs on you and rarely letting you outside without him until he is absolutely certain you won't leave him.

Or maybe you can't be trusted outside alone at all. Your sweet head keeps entertaining these notions of leaving him, you obviously can't handle the outside world unaccompanied. Maybe you're meant to be a stay-at-home spouse, soon to be a stay-at-home parent. Don't worry, he'll be sure to give you lots of sweet children to make sure you're not lonely, and he'll certainly give you lots of his attention as well.

Don't worry, you're his precious Darling, he'll take care of you.

Atalanta

Atalanta is generally a pretty consistent person whose true self (the self that she shows around family and Darling) is honestly pretty close to the persona she puts on in public. She's very mild and calm and generally slow to spur strong emotions.

She has a very clear plan for how to teach Darling to be both the perfect spouse and the perfect socialite. Her plan includes strategically using both rewards and punishments to train and mold Darling's behavior.

Atalanta is kind of a very controlling yandere. She always knows where Darling is, what they're doing, who they're with, and what time they're coming back. She has at least 4 bodyguards with you if you're going somewhere unfamiliar and around 2 if you're going somewhere known like a friend's house.

She's not really jealous; she doesn't need to be. Simply by being hers you already have a mark on you. No one will be able to hide you for long. A random shopkeeper might have a child who works at her company. The police just got another large Montclair donation. Anyone who sees you unaccompanied will return you back to your rightful place, and no one dares touch you without her permission.

Atalanta is also the kind of yandere to restrict what Darling does. Your days will be filled with all the best that high society has to offer, charity galas, yacht trips, private jets, Michelin chefs. It sounds nice, but now that you're with her, she sees no reason for you to ever indulge in silly things like grabbing fast food with friends, dancing at the club, and working your own job and making your own money. You have her now, you don't need to do these things. You can rest now.

Atalanta is very patient. If Darling resists or otherwise fights back, she will simply have you stay inside the penthouse until you repent and apologize for your bad behavior. If you run, she'll find you within hours and you will be punished. All the comforts she has given you? Let's see how long this defiance lasts when you have to spend days on end with no entertainment but what she mercifully decides to give you.

She is more than willing to wait years for you to calm down and be the perfect spouse, hanging on her arm, kissing her cheek, laughing at her jokes over a fancy dinner she bought you at the best restaurant in the city. Her mother did the same thing and Atalanta is nothing if not a Mommy's girl.

If you ever want to breathe fresh air again, even with her metaphorical chain around your ankle, you'll settle down and appreciate the things she works so hard to give you. It truly doesn't have to be this difficult, Darling girl.

[ye-olde-sodor]

DC Au Thomas!

Thomas is an LB&SCR E2 Class locomotive, more specifically a Second Series E2 with the extended side tanks.

He was built in June of 1915, making him one of the oldest engines on Sodor! Contrary to popular belief, however, Thomas was not the first engine on Sodor. Instead, he only inherited the number after the first No 1 disappeared.

Thomas had a rough time growing up. He was taught by his older brothers not to trust the larger engines. Due to this, a younger Thomas was quite aggressive towards a younger Edward and a few other larger engines. While he grew out of this "emo phase", he still took many of his brothers lessons to heart.

Current day Thomas is a happy-go-lucky and sometimes hot headed engine, but he always means well….usually. He's cheerful, but he’s also the strong assertive type, and isn't afraid to speak up against mean engines. He can be quite cheeky too, but with his old age, he doesn't show it as much as he used to.

He loves a good challenge, but due to how bold and he can be, he's quite reckless. He also has a hard time admitting he made a mistake or did something wrong whenever one of his plans goes awry.

Thomas isn’t very good at listening to people. Especially to those in charge. The only people he does listen to is the Hatt family…but he doesn’t always listen to Sir Topham Hatt.

Like with many engines on Sodor, he despises the idea of a hierarchy. He believes that it paves the way for larger engines to order around smaller engines and put them in harms way. Even though he's a Preserved engine, he'd be more then happy to get rid of his "privilege" if it means keeping whatever steam engines remain across the world safe.

Thomas would kill to have a dock or harbor near his branch line. He loves the sea breeze and the sounds or the waves crashing up against the land. It reminds him of the Docks of Brighton Railway.

Thomas is one of the few engines who doesn’t mind eating thanks to his driver. His favorites are beef jerky and salt (yes he eats salt, don’t judge him) Just don’t tell any of the other engines that he likes to eat things…

Thomas was surprised when Stepney turned out to be one of his cousins. While the two aren't particularly close, both take pride in being relatives, and have even gained a peace of mind knowing that not all of their relatives were scrapped.

Thomas can be quite flirt when he wants to be, although no one but a few engines would know about it.

He can get super jealous whenever a new engine rolls in. This is partially due to how his brother raised him but also partially because he’s afraid of being replaced despite being the islands mascot…but then again, humans love replacing things they claim to adore so how can he be so sure he's safe from scrap?

He has some very mixed feelings towards Ryan. First and foremost he’s angry that he has to listen to him. He's jealous because Ryan has had the high life since he was built. He also finds Ryan attractive but would never, under any circumstances, admit he's in love like a normal engine.

He has a nasty habit of getting sick if he's swapped to a coal he isn't used to burning. There've been many attempts to switch the engines of Sodor to a better coal, but poor Thomas just wasn't compatible with any of them! Mallard will learn this the hard way soon enough...

Ultimately can be described with one word. Feral.

Quotes:

Thomas: *screaming*

Ryan: *screams louder*

Scott: "Shouldn't we interveine?"

Gordon: "No no, I want to see who wins."

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

Percy: "Why on earth would you want to use the jet engine again?!"

Thomas: "Because you can't make the same mistake twice! I heard those scientists finally nailed the tech down, so now I can-"

Percy: "Completely ignore them and carry on with your life?!"

Thomas: 'You're no fun :("

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

Percy: "Oh blimey you look awful! Moreso than usual!"

Thomas, who's taken on bad coal: "Gee, thanks."

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

Thomas: "I'm half tempted to make a break for Sodor...maybe I'll get lucky!"

Driver: "Or maybe you'll get us all killed!"

Thomas: "Death is better than "Campfire Night", Keith. If I hear one more song about the wonders of British colonialism and living by the social norm, I just might keel over."

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

Thomas: "James, I know you're scared, but you have to trust me."

James: "You're already asking too much out of me, but go on."

Thomas: "I need you to bail Edward out of Darlington."

James: "WHAT-"

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

Ryan: "Now why can't you be this sweet all the time?"

Thomas: "If I was, I wouldn't be half as interesting!”

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

Henry: "If you rush across the viaduct, it'll collapse, and you won't have any passengers or train! What would you do then?!"

Thomas: "Run my train on time."

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

Edward: "Oh, that bloody Spamcan is here!"

Gordon: "Quick Thomas, do the thing!"

Thomas: "I don't think growling at him is going to send him away...But I'd be damned if I didn't try it!"

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

Diesel: "We need a distraction."

Thomas: "Great idea! Diesel, you roll out and show 'em your ugly mug while I go grab Percy!"

[ivoryminitower]

Echoes of Home: 53 - Steve ("flames")

Echoes of Home: FFXIV AU OC – WoLs on Earth

Tsu'na's exercise in community-building served a couple purposes.  It exposed her to people who hadn't seen her but were nevertheless talking about her, and it gave us a propagation metric.  That very evening, mere hours after she'd served the pies with sugar topping, half the diner crowd wanted sugar-topped pies.  We didn't know if it was word of mouth or social media, but the kids communicated fast.  We might need to try more targeted messages to see how they spread.

The sugar topping wasn't hard to do, once Tsu'na showed me what Mr. Hartman did (and what kind of diner cook has a basting brush in his kitchen?), but it was manual effort.  We might make a hundred pies at a time and they're all the same; unless we make a sugar-topped apple pie recipe, we need to custom-top each pie on demand.  Gotta work on recipe templates, or, God help us, actually cook.

Yesterday morning we took some painting trays, a bottle of corn oil and the Hartmans' gas can over to the Pit and set up outside the shed.  Corn oil went in one tray, gasoline in another.  I stuck a short piece of rope in the oil.

"So, gasoline is made from oil.  For a while now, it's been made from petroleum which is pumped out of underground deposits, but it can be made from plant oils too.  The important part is that it burns."

I lit a match and held it to the end of the rope. In a moment there was a steady flame.  "What burns is fumes.  Stable oil like this doesn't normally give off fumes unless it's heated up, which is why you need a wick.  On the other hand…"  I tossed a lit match into the gasoline tray.  "...Gasoline is sort of all fumes, so it burns fast.  In fact, leave gasoline out for a bit, and the fumes will escape and leave you with liquid that doesn't burn."

Tsu'na studied the gasoline flames.  "And you want liquid that does this?"

"Yeah.  It's used in Earth engines, like cars and the lawnmower."

"We do not have a car.  Did you want to make one?  Or is this for your winnebago?"

"Our winnebago.  And yeah, among other things."

"Would magitek not be easier?"

"Sure would.  Let's just go find Cid or Nero and ask them how it works.  Oh, wait...they're in Eorzea."

She sighed softly and looked back and forth between the corn oil flame and the gasoline fire. "So, because they both burn, you think we can make one into the other?"

"Because of the hydrocarbons, yeah.  My understanding is that refineries take stuff out of oil leaving purified hydrocarbons behind.  Less purified stuff is called kerosene, which doesn't burn as hot.  More purified stuff is jet fuel, which burns too hot.  This here is what we want."

She nodded slowly.  We contemplated the flames.  It was quiet.  We really should have heard Sam coming.

"Y'all tryin' to barbecue?"

I tensed, and managed a smile as I turned to look at him. "Hey, Sam.  No, we're, uh...working on alternative fuels."

"Do what, now?"

"Husband thinks we can make gasoline from corn oil."

"Oh...like corn ethanol?  Thought that was made outta corn mash."

I brightened.  "Is it?  That could mean we can start with corn and not have to worry about oil."

Sam nodded.  "So...why?"

"Gas is three fifty a gallon."

"Y'all got a car?"

Tsu'na smiled.  "He is asking if we have a car, Husband."

"Hartmans have a lawn mower."

"An' that's, what, a quarter gallon tank?  Gallon every couple months?"

"Yeah, well, we just like to be self-sufficient.  Out in the field when supply lines got screwed up we sometimes had to macgyver fuel out of homemade booze and detergent."

"Uh huh.  So...you're playin' with flammable liquids in a wooden shed?"

"No, we're playing with flammable liquids outside a wooden shed."

Sam nodded, meeting my eye.  "Rather ya didn't."

His shed.  His bat and ball.  "...Okay...well, we'll just wait for this to burn down and then...not do it any more?"

"Sounds like a plan."  He looked at the fire, looked back at me, and headed back to the bar, shaking his head.

We watched him go, then turned back to the flames.  "And we came here because you did not want to do this at the house?" asked Tsu'na.

"This demonstration, yeah.  The actual work we probably shouldn't do anywhere near a building or anything that can burn.  Probably some place with bare rock."

"There is no place like that near town."

"Yeah, we're probably talking a camping trip."

She nodded. "I shall look for a place tonight.  Can you feed sugar to the children without me?"

"I can, but…there's no real hurry on this."

"I would like to get it done.  Your list is always growing."

"Our list.  You can add stuff to it too."

"Then I shall add finding kukuri beans."

We spent the afternoon learning how to make chocolate (since it was easier and safer than gasoline).  She's got an idea for a chocolate cream pie.  We're gonna get a good solid start on introducing diabetes to this town.

After dinner at the diner she headed off to explore, and I settled in with sugar-hungry teens.  Not sure if it energized them, or if they were just more lively for some reason, but my plans for playing Tangerine Dream were dashed by their noise level, so I went with Bon Jovi instead.

Some of the kids asked about Miz Tsu'na and were disappointed to hear she wouldn't be in that evening.  I guess she's making an impression.  Or maybe they like rebelling against their parents, and are happy to use her as a reason.  Which will also make an impression.

[chiconisroc]

Chapter 3 for "Trust Me" is up. This is a Starscream from Transformers Earthspark Fanfiction o.o.

Let me know what you peeps think of the new chapter~

Summary of the story:

Hashtag yearns to connect more with Starscream and she can't stand at how the world doesn't want to give him a second chance. She also wishes he wasn't so hostile towards the world.

Her solution?

To welcome Starscream into the Malto family as a new uncle and shower him with the love and support he needs, even if he doesn't think he needs it.

First Chapter:

Hashtag was excited as the sun finally ascended into the sky. She and her Terran siblings, with the exception of Trash, were making sure the base and the barn were in impeccable condition for their special guest that would be arriving any time soon.

“I honestly think inviting him over is a terrible idea,” Thrash muttered, his arms crossed, and a frown etched on his face. He stood there, watching as his siblings stepped out of the barn.

“Come on, Thrash, Starscream is pretty cool,” Twitch chimed in. “Just give him a chance.”

“Yeah, he’s actually nice,” Jawbreaker added.

“You’ve hardly interacted with him,” Thrash argued with Jawbreaker.

“What Jawbreaker means,” Nightshade interjected, “is that Starscream is nice because thanks to him, the Decepticons assisted us against Mandroid. Without him, they wouldn’t have come and we all would have been doomed.”

Thrash waved it off dismissively. “He probably helped us out of personal vendetta against Mandroid or something.” He then noticed all his siblings were frowning at his direction. “Come on guys, this is Starscream we’re talking about. You know, the most cowardly and deceitful Decepticon to ever exist.”

“Thrash, please don’t call Starscream names like that, especially a coward, because he’s the opposite of that,” Hashtag intervened with a firm yet composed tone. She remembered how Starscream had risked his life to protect her in the tunnels weeks ago. The way Starscream had protected her really shifted her perception of the Decepticon. She was looking forward for all of them to spend time with him, to get to know him. Also, her human siblings would befriend him so he could see that now all humans were terrible.

However, Starscream’s interaction with Mo and Robbie would have to wait, given that they were in school and wouldn’t return until later in the afternoon.

“Please try to be nice to him, just like you are with the Autobots.” she said to Thrash. “Trust me, he’s not so bad.”

Thrash remained unconvinced, still sulking.

"Hey, kiddos,” Dot greeted her adopted children with a warm smile, only to notice Thrash’s vexed expression. “What’s wrong, Thrash? Already missing Robby and Mo?” she teased.

“No… I’m just not excited to have Starscream coming over,” he grumbled, leaving Dot puzzled.

“What do you mean, coming over?” she asked before turning to the rest of her Terran babies.

“Yeah, remember, mom?” Hashtag reminded her. “Starscream is coming over today.”

“Wait, hold on, what?” Dot let out in shock, causing everyone’s gaze to shift toward her in confusion before turning to each other.

“You said you were going to tell her,” Hashtag told Twitch, who blinked in response.

“No, I didn’t. You said you would,” Twitch said.

Dot rubbed the corners of her eyes, struggling to maintain her composure, but then her ears picked up a distant sound.

Oh no…

The sound grew louder and more pronounced with every passing second. It was a terribly familiar sound of an engine roaring through the sky, making her mind race.

She looked up to the heavens to see Starscream, in his jet form, streak across the bright sky with an astonishing speed, a trail of ionized particles marking his path in a cascade of shimmering light. His wings sliced through the air, creating a haunting melody that brought certain horrible memories for Dot of countless jets, operated by her fellow people, falling one by one when Starscream had shot them down years ago.

Her mind returned to the present when Starscream burst forth from the heavens, his jet form a blur of speed, rattling the barns’ windows and making the ground quivered beneath everyone’s feet. With a deft and practiced maneuver, he transformed mid-flight, wings folding as his feet met the earth.

Dust swirled around Starscream as he landed with a resounding thud, his blue orbs fixing upon her with a bored, and dismissive look.

And just like that, one of the most dangerous and unpredictable Decepticons was standing before her and her children… with no Megatron or Autobot in sight.

[rileytakeda]

The San Diego airport is tiny compared to LaGuardia, but somehow no less busy. Riley sits at her gate, motionless with her carry-on at her feet, eyes staring at the faint stain on the ugly patterned carpet. It's the typical hum of travel, with the whine of jet engines and the chatter of families overtaking everything. She got a coffee from the stand just past security, more of a habit to have the drink than anything, and it sits untouched on the table next to her.

The events of the five months play on a loop in her mind, from the conversation she'd had with Aria explaining everything that had gone on with her father, to the phone call she'd gotten from her mother not even a week later.

'It's terminal, Riley.'

With her father, it was easy. Despite the death of her relationship with Aria, there was really nothing else to it. Riley made the proper appearances, parroted the right words, and she left again, free to leave him in the recesses of her memories once more. When her mother called, saying that she had no one else, that was a lot harder.

Kathleen Takeda never raised a hand against her, rarely even had a bad word to say about her daughter. She was stern, yes, but Riley remembered sharing moments with her mother that she will always cherish, despite everything else. No, Kathleen Takeda's greatest sin was always staying silent when she should have spoken up. Riley had learned early on in her life that her mother would never be her savior, and that had been a harder pill to swallow than her father being an abusive fuck. And it made it easier for Riley to agree when her mother asked her to come home.

For the better part of four months, she watches her mother go from the peak of physical health to skin and bones. She deteriorates rapidly, quicker than even the doctors predicted, and Riley carries her through it all. She thinks that maybe the idea of a looming death will allow them to finally talk about the things they've tiptoed around for so many years. She thinks that with her father dead, maybe they can actually talk about the things that happened, and Riley naively even thinks that maybe she could get an apology.

But soon she realizes that is a pipe dream. Her mother avoids the topic at every turn, faking coughing fits until they turned real, or pretending to be asleep, all so she doesn't have to face accountability. The one time Riley presses things, it escalates into a fight that ends with a trip to the ER when her mother begins to hyperventilate. The doctor tells her then that she needs to keep the dying woman calm, that any type of exertion will be fatal for her.

Riley could have left then. She probably should have. What does she owe her mother at that point other than a giant fuck you? But she stays, still too afraid about what people would say about her for abandoning her. Too afraid to turn into her parents, who stopped giving a shit when it got hard.

Kathleen Takeda passes away a week before Christmas. She's given a burial befitting of a military officer and interred next to her husband. A surprising number of people show up despite the fact it's right before the holidays. Riley pulls it together literally overnight, and she realizes she never knew her parents at all. An unnamed soldier hands Riley a folded flag that she accepts with a solemn nod, with the sound of rifles echoing behind her.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Bang. "She was a great woman." Bang. "At least they're together now." Bang.

The chime of the overhead intercom interrupts her stewing with an announcement that her flight is boarding. The ticket price was obscene because of how last minute it is, on Christmas Eve no less, and she's stuffed into a middle seat, but she hopes leaving her hometown will finally allow her to fucking breathe once she's three thousand miles away from her parents' graves.

It doesn't. The air in the city smells like garbage and piss and she feels just as suffocated as she did in California. The cab driver curses at the traffic and flips off no less than four cars, and Riley doesn't feel as comforted as she thought she would. In the weeks leading up to her mother's death, Riley thought it would finally mean true freedom from her parents, like the last remaining tie to that part of her life would disappear and she could move on for good. But she's learning that grief is never that simple, and more than grieving her mother, she mourns the possibility of ever finding real closure from them. Coming back to New York changes none of that.

Her breakdown lasts well into the morning and she feels like a zombie as she starts to come out of it. The TV is playing some cheery black and white Christmas movie, where the middle-age overworked father remembers the true meaning of the holiday in time to bring home the perfect gift to his daughter, and Riley wants to laugh at the irony, but even that feels like too much energy.

"Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals," she mumbles to herself as her eyes slip closed, finally exhausted.

Finally home.

[thelastpathfinder]

Posted up on the side of one of the comms towers overlooking the shipyard, you watch the ants far below you go about their business. It's the safest you've felt since returning to Cybertron. No-one noticed you fly to your perch, a fact that continues to bewilder you—you're all white and sporting a frame design that hasn't existed in millions of years, yet you seem capable of sneaking about without really trying.

You suppose you should be grateful. Someone out there wants you dead, after all, so being able to effortlessly evade detection is a blessing. Maybe you should change your name accordingly. Sneak is your first thought, one you quickly dismiss for sounding a little too, well, dishonest. And the good names are probably all already taken.

You watch a pair of jets zip past a few hundred feet below, casting distorted shadows against the clouds. There's no way for them to spot you from that angle, but just the sight of a jet in flight makes your tanks lurch with panic now. Hiding won't keep you safe forever. You lay flat on your back, your primary arms folded behind your head, and ponder your options.

There's more you can change than just your name. Glowfin had suggested a frame reformat, before the assassination attempt. You'd dismissed the idea at the time, but now you're coming to see it in a new light. This body isn't yours, after all; it was forced on you by the Initiative. It's never felt like you, just a vessel necessary to your survival. How are you supposed to fight effectively when you don't even feel connected to your own body? Not only that, but a new frame would make you harder to recognize. You'd just be changing for the sake of your survival again, only this time it would be your choice. It doesn't seem so terrible.

You turn over, restless. The sun feels pleasant on your rotors. You miss Glowfin terribly. You can't imagine she had anything to do with the assassination, but you don't want to put her in any danger by reaching out. In the Institute's custody, you were a caged animal; now you've mauled the hand that feeds, and there's no going back. You try not to think of Longwing, and the look on his face before you smashed it to pieces. His engines had let out an awful stuttering screech when you killed him. It had taken hours to scrub every last drop of his energon from your frame.

Stop it, you scold yourself wearily. What's done is done.

Lulled by the soothing warmth of the sun, you drift into a light sleep. In your dreams you're surrounded by a sea of shadowy, faceless figures; you leap amongst them, slashing and tearing with teeth and claws you do not have. You clamber up the growing pile of bodies, killing your way to the top, where there is no-one left to fight. There is only your own reflection, hands outstretched, begging you to stop.

But it was so easy, you cry, and tackle your reflection off the pile; you both tumble into a chasm, and you awake with a jolt before you can glimpse what waits at the bottom.

You've overslept. Night is fast approaching, and you feel a heavy dread in your spark that has nothing to do with the gathering darkness.

[the-firebird69]

Kikker 5150 Hardknock engine sound demo by Texas Hardknock

The spring seat works and the shock systems nice and you can get it later they do those three by the way and later on you make changes but now this is how it goes we also note that these neighbors are a pain in the ass and he's been living with it and needs them out and he says it all the time and they roll their eyes and say dumb things with boy they freaking assholes. This is a classic tank but it's from a jet no it's from an airplane and from world war II we don't like that kind of stuff but we have our own they don't get us going but for real it's a nice bike and they did not make them after like 1987 or something it's a long time ago and the last bikes are nice and they have the website up and they don't sell any and it's terrible they are terrible people they put it on websites other ones and they didn't sell any. He says to try and assemble the parts right now for all three bikes and if you get the color run or something they're not going to care that much and to piggyback because people will be trying to buy them and idiots will be trying to post it they don't bother us more and jet li says that's a good idea is is an emergency they need to know about this $200 billion dead ships and five trillion missing and it's an emergency and he says that's a great idea and we talked it out and decided it's good right now he said this one in Britain and we can do that don't even have to be there and they'll try and put it up on the go-kart thing and other sites it's still up actually thanks and people are trying to call so I collected it and is credit cards and we're going to have to protect the credit card somehow and we do that and we're getting it going

Chao phat

I don't believe it I'm actually thinking he says you probably are and you don't believe it is there actually stupid and you're a frustrating retard just like all retards are who are here and you're a bunch of freaking dinks all these people are trying the same thing that you are. It's taking us 2 years to think about the septic I got to tell you something we're probably spent and don't care and it says yeah you probably are as soon as I go to Titan and try and take over to bring you there to threaten our way in which really doesn't make any sense but okay

Trump

What a hokey piece of s*** you are you ever think it was like threatening effectively is such a piece of garbage

Zues Hera

This guy is wasting his life away and we need to stop him and we're going to get in there and we got to do something the other aspect of it is there could be massive changes it took place because Trump is a freaking moron in airhead

Mac daddy

Olympus

[coffee-with-a-stranger]

Self Knowledge Quiz #2

Dancing Waters

Fountains at A Touch of Magic to any public space. The fine Mist carried into the breeze, the gentle sounds of water falling into water, the sparkle of light as it plays on the Rippling surface: it's enough to transform a humdrum little Park into a fantasy setting. Perhaps that's why the local Fountain is such a popular meeting place for romantic assignations and getting together with friends.

Close your eyes and imagine a park with a fountain. You have arranged to meet some friends there before a night out on the town. What kind of Fountain do you see?

A single jet of water blasting straight up in the air like a geyser.

A number of medium sized fountains in a sparkling array, they're spray dissolving into droplets of mist.

A smallish, bubbling fountain.

An intricately engineered and complex water structure.

Key to Dancing Waters

They may be impressive, enchanting, even magical. They may Inspire romance or sheer awe. But one thing you can't say about fountains is that they're practical. The water goes up, the water comes down. What else does it achieve? Nonetheless, we sense that the world would be a poorer place without them. Sometimes you need to forget about practicality and just cut loose and enjoy. And therein lies the key to this scenario: the type of Fountain you imagined is related to the way you spend your money when enjoying a night out with friends.

1. A single jet of water blasting straight up in the air like a geyser.

You're like a magician with money, able to make vast quantities disappear in the blank of an eye. It doesn't matter much to you the way you consume it, just as long as you don't leave any leftovers. This makes you everybody's friend the first weekend after payday and explains why people around the office have taken to calling you old faithful.

2. A number of medium sized fountains in a sparkling array, they're spray dissolving into droplets of mist.

You like to use money to impress, spending it in a flashy way to guarantee maximum effect. You have been known to order food you don't even like, simply because it was the most expensive thing on the menu. As long as you're willing to keep paying the tab, there will always be people willing to act impressed.

3. A smallish, bubbling fountain.

You are a conservative Spender, that is, on the rare occasions when you spend anything at all. You figure the sales tax for everyone's bill when you split the tab and then whip out your coupons. You're spending habits definitely aren't going to make you go broke, but you if you don't loosen up those purse strings a little you may find yourself going solo.

4. An intricately engineered and complex water sculpture.

You're a schemer, always trying to make more out of your money than there was to begin with. You count convincing a waitress that you qualified for the kitty meal discount when you were 15 as one of your proudest accomplishments. It's not the money itself that's the issue, it's just a medium you use to express your creative impulses. That may earn you a bright future in trading stock options, but getting thrown out of a movie theater for sneaking in the emergency exit is not a good way to score points on a date.

Hope you enjoyed the quiz. Please feel free to take the survey below.

[swirlysmile]

This thought came to my mind in the morning and I've been thinking about it since, so in case you like it: for hangman, the reader doesn't need to be a pilot necessarily, maybe she's a mechanic or something so she's on the base and between hanging out with Jake and hearing him when he's on the air she starts picking out some of his phrases without noticing or maybe saying some words with his accent and one day it happens while she's talking with him, he notices and starts teasing her about it😅

sorry this took so long i’m literally so busy with school and i’m not happy with anything i’m writing (hence the length.) please forgive me!

word count: 192

warnings; none

habits

You’ve always been receptive. You have to be listening, have to be searching, for anything that goes wrong. If you send any pilot into the air with a faulty engine, you could lose your job. 

You develop habits of unintentional mockery over time. For example; the little tongue click Phoenix does during takeoff, or Hangman’s drawl when he says “Hell yeah!” after shooting someone down, or even Rooster’s hum when he’s not following Hangman’s strongly worded requests.

You’re tightening some screws on the bottom panel of the jet, having fixed some out of place wires. 

“Hey hey!” Coyote shouts, and you slide out from under the jet, clicking your tongue.

“Coyote, my man! What’s up?” 

Hangman raises an eyebrow from the other side of the room, noticing your tongue click. That sounds familiar, he thinks, ready to comment on it.

You do some stupid handshake with Coyote, engaging in idle conversation before he runs to grab some water. You slide back under the jet, tinkering some more. 

“Hey,” Hangman says to you, listening to you hum in response. “Would you want to go to the Hard Deck with us tonight?”

“Hell yeah!” 

[lady-amethyst18]

(During the clean-up, Cal looked around the room to see how much had been done.)

Cal: Ah, yes. The lobby is looking a lot cleaner. I think now we can finally focus on the repairs.

Balan: How do we plan to fix the walls, beams, and household essentials? Can we even do it ourselves?

Cal: Some of them, yes. The theater may be in bad shape, but it's still sturdy. Honestly, this all could have been worse.

Balan: Huh?

Bruce: I think he means it's not as bad as it looks. The two big things we're worried about are the plumbing and the heater. Everything else can be fixed with a bit of elbow grease.

Balan: Boy, something about that makes me feel better. Knowing that my theater is not totally ruined gives me some more hope.

Emma: But it doesn't mean we're finished. We're just getting started. The building is enormous. There are rooms that we still need to look into. And I'm almost afraid of what we're going to see.

Iben: I have to admit those spiders gave me the creeps.

Yuri: You're just lucky I haven't found any black widows or brown recluses. Those things can pack a mean bite.

Balan: (shudders) Eugh! Don't even put that energy out there. I wouldn't want any of my friends to get injured.

Leo: Is there anything else that needs to be cleaned?

Sana: These windows look like they could use a good scrub.

(Sana looked at the tall stained glass windows. Their colors have gone gray because of the dust and dirt.)

Cass: Ew! They're filthy!

Emma: These poor windows. I bet they used to look beautiful before they got this way.

Balan: They did. I commissioned a window artist to make them. I feel so ashamed I let them get this way. I feel like I'm disrespecting the artist.

Leo: Aww, don't be like that, Balan. We'll get these cleaned up. We still have some window cleaner. We'll make them shine so bright they'll look like new.

Haoyu: They're... Kind of tall... Like... W-way high up.

Balan: Wait! I have a ladder! That way, we can reach them!

Eis: Well done, Balan. For once, you were actually prepared.

Cass: Someone should go up there and clean the windows. But who?

Leo: Could you do it, Haoyu? I bet you could reach them.

Haoyu: (scared) ME?! No way! Don't even think about sending me up there!

Leo: What's wrong? Are you afraid of heights?

Haoyu: (yells) Yes, I am! Could you not tell! How do you think I broke my arm!?

(Everyone stopped what they were doing. Haoyu felt embarrassed when all the eyes locked on him. Balan slowly approached the boy.)

Balan: Haoyu... What have you done?

Haoyu: (groans in defeat) 3 months ago, I attempted to build an airplane for the science fair at my school. A real one. My dad and I always loved inventing together, so we got to work. We built a shell around my bike to make it look like an airplane. And it was a real work of art if I do say so myself.

Leo: Wait a minute... I remember that science fair! You and I go to the same school, remember? But I didn't see you. Did you get sick or decide not to go?

Haoyu: I couldn't go... Because I made an idiot decision.

Cass: Like what?

Haoyu: I got so into building the plane I installed jet engines and turbines on it. Something my father told me not to touch. I thought touching the sky on a standard bike would be great. After all, everybody wants to fly. And I wanted to fly since I was a kid. So I took it out and flew around the neighborhood... But then... Catastrophe.

Fiona: What happened?

Haoyu: (sounding a little sad) The shell around my bike was just that. A shell. It wasn't built for aerodynamics; it was supposed to look cool. So I fell out of the sky. I was in the hospital for weeks with a concussion, cracked ribs, a bleeding leg, and an arm broken in several places. (gestures at his cast) The doctor said I was lucky to be alive. That's why I'm so afraid of heights. I could have died!

Fiona: Oh, Haoyu, that's terrible!

Balan: (grabs the boy and hugs him tight) Oh, Haoyu, you poor boy! I can't believe that happened to you! It must have been traumatizing! But I'm so glad you're still alive. It would break my heart to see you get hurt so badly. (gets a little teary) I don't know if I could handle that.

Haoyu: Balan, no waterworks... (sighs) But yeah. Ever since then, I've been so scared of heights. I can't even go on a swing without feeling like I'm in danger. I'm such a fool.

(Feeling terrible for the boy, Balan sat down with him and held him in his arms.)

Balan: You and I have the exact same problem. We take action before we think things through.

Emma: What do you mean, Balan?

Balan: The moment I graduated college, I had just enough money to buy the theater, hire a crew, and new furniture. But I never thought that the audience would leave me.

Sana: You couldn't have seen that coming.

(Balan ignores her remark and keeps talking to Haoyu.)

Balan: I had no backup plan for when things went wrong. So, like a fool, I wasted all my savings on everything at once.

Emma: Is that why you're poor?

Balan: It is... And it's something I'll regret for the rest of my life.

(Haoyu saw himself in Balan. He was right. He didn't think things through before he took action. But he smiled at last.)

Haoyu: Well... There's this saying in my family when we do something wrong.

Balan: What is it?

Haoyu: Lesson learned.

(Balan smiled and hugged Haoyu another time. Haoyu even hugged him back.)

Leo: I'm sorry, Haoyu. You don't have to wash the windows if you don't want to. We all want you to be safe and secure. Tell you what, I'll clean the tall windows. There are others that are lower to the ground.

Haoyu: Thanks. I appreciate it. And Balan, thanks for the pep talk. You're a good listener.

(Balan smiled and ruffled Haoyu's hair before standing up again.)

Iben: Alright, everybody. Let's get back to work.

So here's the context

The theater is a lot cleaner, thanks to everybody pitching in. Some repairs still need to be done and windows to be washed. Luckily, the damage isn't severe. Just some paint chipping off and small holes in the wall. But let's focus on the stained glass windows first.

But just as they would do so, Haoyu refused to clean the tall windows. The reason why is that he's scared of heights.

Haoyu took his airplane for a science project out for a spin, but it wasn't aerodynamically fit to be in the sky. It was meant to be a decoration. So he fell out of the sky and hurt himself. That would explain his broken arm.

Balan is horrified that Haoyu got hurt so badly and how he was thankful to still be alive. They both even have a heart-to-heart chat about taking action before considering a backup plan. But as the saying goes, lesson learned.

Hopefully, the two will be much wiser about their future actions.

This is my Lonesome Maestro AU. When Balan's first show was a disaster, and everyone left him. He's become very lonely and sad due to no one being around. Until Leo and Emma showed up and try to change his life for the better.

[startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs]

Oh, Lucky. Here we go!

He was going home. As Jake answered all the mechanic's questions while checking the jet, out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Bradley's jet ascended down the elevator and rolled into its resting spot. Bradley popped his canopy, climbing out, sliding down the ladder and high-fiving his mechanic, smiling.

I can't wait, I can't wait, I cannot wait! He deserves to kiss Liz and be hugged to death by both Sadie and Liz. And then have the welcome home he deserves. In Liz's bed.

But I also know you. And I saw that snippet.

Jake lifted his hand once again, hoping Rooster would take it. But Bradley didn't, nor did he reply. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jake to bow his head and drop his hand once again, not knowing if he should sigh or roll his eyes. At this point, it was frugal to think Bradley would ever change his ways. Least of all for him.

He's got a bone to pick, still. It seems to me that Roo needs to get dicked down again... and maybe get the sense smacked into him.

But I knew the second you spoke to me, the second I had turned around after fixing that damn keg, seeing that mona lisa smile of yours (Yes - I have been calling it that and no, your ego does not need to grow two more sizes because of it), my heart was screaming, Hello, I love you. (Those are in reference to a song; they don't count just yet).

I'm going to cry, Lucky. She told him she loved him! Even if it was in song lyrics. She LOVES HIM!

I'm not going to quote Liz's letter, because Lucky I'm going to be quoting all of it. And I don't think anybody seeing this reblog needs to reread it. It's amazing. All of the song lyrics. Your tagline "long cool woman in a black dress). It's perfection. I really hope Liz and Jake get their happy ending. I really need them too. Or I may be coming up north with a pitchfork and some fire. (And peppermints in my pocket for Yoshi, of course. I wouldn't forget him lol.)

You. On your bed. Half naked. You seemed carefree, leaning back on your bed, damp tendrils of your hair half clinging to your face, half covering the sharp lines of your neck. Oh, how many times he had kissed that neck, and now, seeing it on display, only for him - Jake had to draw in a sharp breath. And his dog tags hanging between your half-bare breasts, framed by the silk of your robe, glinting in the soft, warm sunlight from your bedroom window. And written along the bottom... Come home and take them back ;)

YES! HELL YES! Jake had better be making it back home to take those damned dog tags back, okay? I will cry if he doesn't.

Rooster shouted from the bunk above, and Jake pressed himself against the tiny wall as he felt himself tilted hard to the side, masked by a shutter that shook their entire room. Bradley wasn't as lucky, rolling straight out of his bed and landing hard on the ground with a massive thunk. Jake wanted to laugh, but even he couldn't stop the grimace as he heard the sound. Bradley groaned a long, pitful sound, lifting himself to rest on his hands. "What the hell is going on?!" "What do you think, Bradshaw? You've never been stuck in a storm on a deployment before?"

I don't think this is a storm. Or if it is, this is a doozy of one. I have this sick feeling in my stomach and I really don't like it, Lucky.

"What the hell is going on?!" Jake shouted over the alarm system. The mechanic continued to work as he replied, "Everything! The whole ship is going to hell! We've got engine failure. Some of the airlock doors won't seal properly on the lowest deck, and to fucking top it off, one of the ballast tanks is compromised! In a fucking hurricane!"

Oh no! This is making me feel even worse, Lucky. I DON'T LIKE IT.

Jake clenched his fists, struggling to find the words. "You think I would ever abandon Sadie? Or Liz? You've seen me, day in and day out, fighting for them, fighting fucking Tyler, fighting to get back to them. I would die before they were hurt. Before any one of you were hurt." "But you did! The second your brother asked you to." Bradley's voice hardened. "Answer me this: in the heat of the moment, when you're faced with a choice, can you honestly tell me you'd put them first?" Tyler and everything he had wrought flashed in Bradlely's mind, but he pressed on. "Not your pride, not your ego, but them? Or any of us. Unasked or not on the job! Cause I know you wouldn't!"

These boys. They have the worst fucking timing. THE WORST. But it needs to be said, I guess?

Another name came to Bradley's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, even now. Instead, Bradley could only sallow and nod. He couldn't deny Jake was right. It was damn near impossible to sink an aircraft carrier. Jake and Bradley knew this. The things were built to withstand the roughest seas, hurricanes included. They were the most balanced and sturdiest things that ever graced any body of water on this planet. They had to be if aviators were literally landing planes on them.

Oh my god. What the fuck. This must be some fucking powerful hurricane to try to sink an aircraft carrier. WHAT THE FUCK.

Grabbing Rooster by the back of his suit, Jake pulled Bradley in front of him, pushing him up the stairs, urging him forward and shouting, Go! The two tried not to look up as they climbed, picturing their destination in their minds. Ignoring the sound of the alarm and the rushing water, Jake and Bradley counted their steps as they tried to reach the top. And they were close. Even as the rest of the ship creaked and groaned, they still fought to reach the top, unaware if help was waiting for them on the other side. Then something blew up on one of the upper levels, the sound, the vibration, causing Jake and Bradley to slam themselves into the wall, trying to make themselves as small as possible. The lights flickered once, twice, then completely out, before a rotating red emergency light dimly lit the narrow stairwell. Metal crunched above their heads, snapping like twigs, and Jake didn't dare look up for fear of what might happen to either of them.

I'm going to throw up Lucky. I don't like this. I don't like this AT ALL. Please dear god let Rooster and Jake both be okay. Please?!

"Bradley! Just take my hand!" he shouted over the alarms, not any less urgent than before. "Please!" Jake had never begged a day in his life, let alone to someone like Rooster. But there was no way he wasn't going home without him. You would never forgive him, and Sadie would never recover. He knew that for a fact. Metal snapped, and Bradley dropped another inch, thinking this was it. That the railing was no longer attached to whatever had been holding it in place, baring his entire weight. Bradley threw his arm up towards Jake's in a desperate move. Jake grabbed his wrist at the last possible second, a pained shout escaping his lips as he completely absorbed his weight, metal grating bending underneath him. But the grip he had on the railing with his foot held, and Jake bowed his head in relief, taking a few seconds with Bradley hanging dangerously off his arm to ground himself, trying not to think about what might have happened had he not caught him.

Jake's a fucking hero. I hope this is when Bradley finally realizes that Jake isn't the villain he's always made him out to be. I hope. But more than anything I need you to make this okay. I need this to be okay, Lucky. Please.

"This is the second time you've saved me," he said, trying to make out Jake's face in the red light and dropping water. "You could have left me this time, for everything I've done, said..." "What would be the point?" Jake interrupted him. "If I'd left you, I'd be no better than the person you thought I was. Besides," Jake added, smirking, "who else would I have to constantly prove wrong if you weren't around?" Bradley scoffed, a tint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Asshole." Jake shrugged. "It's in my nature. Now, can we please get the hell out of here?"

The banter boys?! At this moment? Really?!

But in the chaos of falling water, blinking lights and cacophony of alarms, Jake was a split second too late to comprehend the warning fully. Just as he turned to see the descending danger, the heavy debris crashed down, the force of the impact throwing him off balance, rocking whatever remained of the grating they were standing on. A metallic clang resonated sharply, followed by the splash of water as Jake was sent reeling backwards. The last thing Bradley saw, huddled against the wall, was the look of shock and realization in Jake's eyes, his silhouette disappearing beneath the surging tide of murky water, quickly consuming any trace of him.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

LUCKY! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! I'VE DONE NOTHING TO YOU. NOTHING. JAKE!

Bradley estimated he had minutes before the water became too much for him to handle. Or he could leave, save himself. Say he did everything he could. That Jake was lost, the situation was too dire. That Jake died a hero, trying to save him once again. But it wasn't even a choice; the decision had already been made. It had been made the second your face appeared in front of his, and how it changed into a faded memory of his mom, collapsing to the ground at the news of his father's death. And Bradley, watching it all from behind the corner of a wall, forever feeling small.

Oh holy shit. I would have murdered one scrawny necked chicken motherfucker if he'd have left Jake to drown. Let's ignore the fact that I've got tiny hands. I've got a rage like you wouldn't believe right now.

But then it wasn't him as a child, but Sadie, the same look on her face the day the two of you walked up the driveway of your sister's place. The same look he found on her face the day she ran into your backyard, pulling at grass. Jake would be another person for the both of you to mourn. He couldn't let that happen. Bradley crossed his arms over his chest and jumped, diving under the water. All he could see was black.

For Sadie! Yes, Bradshaw do it for Sadie. She doesn't deserve to lose another father figure. She's got so few good ones.

LUCKY! I need about 45 business days and a barrel full of alcohol to recover from this chapter. Please. I need to know that chickens can swim and swim village. Please. Please. Please.

I need Chapter 21 soon please. I can't go on like this.

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 20 - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)

📜 Everyone wants Jake's reaction to Liz's risky photo. 👀😂Well, you got it... and something else... Let me put it this way: I have to take my chance where I can....

❗+18, sexual themes, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child character, deployments, letters, verbal fights, hurricanes, near-death experiences, angst, Don't read if you have Thalassophobia/Aquaphobia cause Jake and Bradley... well, you'll find out, intense moments of peril/disaster.

#7.4k words

Part 19 | Masterlist | Part 21

Hangman could hear his breath, the mechanical exhale and hiss, through his oxygen mask as he finally set his eyes on the carrier, alone out at sea.

The tension in his shoulders released, and the weight that had been pressing him down since he and Rooster laughed this morning lifted slightly.

"Rooster, where are you?"

"Right behind you, Hangman," came his crackled tense reply.

The attack on the facility had been gruesome and extremely time-sensitive. They only had a few seconds to spare in reaching their destination should there have been any reason for a delay. It was one of the things he had worried about when they were being briefed, worried if the same ghost that had haunted Rooster on the uranium mission would resurface yet again.

It didn't, and the pair of them managed to get to the target well on time, just to take down two enemy fighter jets before they had even managed to get above the hard deck line.

It might have helped the attack happened right around dawn when nobody was least expecting it—three weeks at sea for an hour in the sky. And the worst of what they thought would happen and what they had prepared for didn't.

You and Sadie had been with him the entire time, your polaroids pinned in his cockpit near the control panel. They were the same ones he had before, the one Sadie took of you and the other of Sadie and himself the day of the hike.

He was looking at them now, between you, Sadie and his navigational beacon, knowing that the second his wheels hit the upper deck, he'd be that much closer to going home.

Hangman was cleared to land, his radio buzzing with the familiar voice of the control tower as he approached the tiny runway. He adjusted the F-18's flaps, feeling the jet respond instantly beneath him, knowing it wasn't over yet, not until both he and Rooster were safely on board.

He took a steadying breath, the sound echoing in his mask as he said to himself in his head, 'Make it perfect. For them."

The back wheels touched down flawlessly, catching the arresting wire with a strong tug. Jake felt himself being pulled forward out of his seat, the straps of his harness tight on his chest. But the second his back hit the chair, he finally felt like he could breathe. The weight on his chest dissipated, and Jake couldn't help the smug grin.

He was finally in the clear.

"Nice landing," he heard the landing officer say through the radio. Jake, taxing himself to the elevator on deck, watched as the officer gave him a thumbs up from the runaway below.

"What can I say? When you're good, you're good," his cheeks hurt from the edges of his mask, grin wide as he cockily gave a two-fingered salute.

If Jake heard the following tense groan coming out of his radio, he didn't let on.

Parking the jet on the elevator strip, Jake watched as he was lowered down into the ship's hanger bay, looking for his designated mechanic as he turned off the flight system. The second he reached the ground, he guided the machine into its designated spot, turning it off completely.

He popped the canopy open before going for his helmet, unstrapping the buckles with haist. He went for one of the pockets on his harness, reaching into the tight space to grab at the zip-locked bag, placing it on top of his helmet before reaching for the polaroids of you and Sadie. Holding both between his thumb, he brought them to his lips, kissing the images simultaneously before placing them safely inside the bag where they belonged.

As Jake stepped down the ladder, a mechanic greeted him, readying a list of questions as Jake started up his post-flight checks.

"It's a good thing you guys finished when you did. Radar points to a tropical storm coming in tonight."

Jake raked his fingers through his hair, trying to combat the sweat. "So we got confirmation we are moving out?"

The mechanic nodded, not bothering to lift his head as he dug for his notepad. "The second you guys were called back. We're already on route to base."

The news only added to his high spirits. Today was a good day.

He was going home.

As Jake answered all the mechanic's questions while checking the jet, out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Bradley's jet ascended down the elevator and rolled into its resting spot. Bradley popped his canopy, climbing out, sliding down the ladder and high-fiving his mechanic, smiling.

He had no idea where the urge, or dare he say courage, came from when he finished walking over to Bradley as he was finalizing his post-flight routine.

Jake waited till Bradley said his last word before approaching him. Jake held out his hand, his voice clear over the commotion, as he said, "Good job flying out there, Bradshaw."

Bradley glanced at Jake's outstretched hand, then to his face, his expression inscrutable. There was a palpable pause, a pregnant beat of tension, before Bradley deliberately rested his hand on the side of his jet, ignoring Jake's overstretched hand completely.

"Don't think one mission changes everything," Bradley replied tersely, eyes sharp and focused.

His reply didn't deter Jake. In fact, he only smirked, lowering his hand. "Didn't think it would. I just wanted to see if you had the balls to acknowledge a job well done. By the way, I went to Liz and apologized. Something you probably never imagined I'd do."

Bradley scoffed, a short, derisive laugh escaping him. "You think an apology is your ticket to redemption? You must have been more rattled up there than I thought. She'd never forgive you after a stunt like that."

Jake bit his lip, contemplating what you or Sadie might say to Rooster at this moment.

So, in a rare second of honesty, in front of his rival, Jake answered Bradley.

"I never expected her to accept my apology, Bradshaw. But I had to try. For her. For Sadie." Jake paused, looking solemn before continuing on. "You know what it's like, leaving on a deployment, not sure when or if you're going to come back. So I had to try, and believe it or not, I want to try to get along with you for both their sakes. It's what they would want."

Jake lifted his hand once again, hoping Rooster would take it. But Bradley didn't, nor did he reply. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jake to bow his head and drop his hand once again, not knowing if he should sigh or roll his eyes. At this point, it was frugal to think Bradley would ever change his ways.

Least of all for him.

...

"Seresin! Bradshaw! You have mail!"

Jake looked up from his plate just in time to see the communications officer slam a white envelope down to the empty space in front of him. The officer continued her journey down to the other end of the table to Rooster, tossing a nearly identical envelope into his outstretched hands.

Bradley hadn't spoken a word to him since the hanger earlier, not that Jake expected him to. The mess hall wasn't necessarily the friendliest place, and while Jake couldn't have cared less about whether or not he was making friends, he and Bradley tended to stick together silently. They didn't really speak to each other, though. Even when they had to bunk together.

It's funny how deployments did that.

Jake slid his tray over to the side, reaching out to grab the thick piece of paper between his hands and inspecting the front.

White was probably the wrong word to use. The envelope looked like it had a rough time getting to him. There were dirt marks and scuffed-up edges, several post stamps thrown uncaringly on the front. Even a few water marks, which made sense, considering a gust front was currently pounding the upper deck.

What stood out to Jake, though, was your handwriting still perfectly intact. He'd recognize it anywhere.

Lt. Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Jake flipped it over, not expecting to see the words written across the back.

This is everything I didn't say

Jake pulled himself back in his seat, only to realize he had a pair of eyes on him. He looked over to Bradley, noticing how the chicken was staring at the object in Jake's hands. He had already opened his, two pieces of lined paper on the table in front of him.

"From Liz?" Jake finally asked, tilting his head towards Bradley's letter. Rooster looked back down at his, staring at the front. "Sadie, actually."

As if that didn't sting a little bit, Jake thought. Bradley looked back up, eyes fixed on the one in Jake's hands. "Liz?" he asked. It was almost sombre.

Jake tore his eyes away from Bradley to trace your cursive writing with his fingers. "Yeah."

There was something to be said about receiving letters or packages from family and loved ones while in service. Regardless of whether or not Jake and Bradley were on the outs, no one ever dared to mock this particular part of their job. Hearing word from the other side, the outside world, was something sacred, and Bradley knew better than to hold it against Jake- even if he did break your heart.

You had chosen to write him that letter. There was nothing he could really do about it - like he even had a choice. Bradley had to pick and choose his moments where he could.

Jake finally broke the seal, immediately going for the folded-up pieces of paper inside. He let the envelope drop, the sound heavy as it hit the table, and Jake knew you had probably stuffed polaroids inside.

He unfolded your pages and began to read.

Jake,

Everything became still the moment my sister passed away. I keep remembering, picturing it like hands on a clock, having counted the seconds away before finally coming to a stop. The days didn't matter. My next thought, my only thought, was Sadie. Then you came into my picture, our picture, and cheesily enough, that seconds hand on that metaphorical clock started to tick.

I can’t lie; I knew you'd break through my walls the first time I saw you. Not in the Hard Deck that day, but when you were playing football on the beach, me watching you from Penny’s chair. I knew who you were instantly.

Because you had a rep, and everyone had warned me about you - Womanizer.

But I knew the second you spoke to me, the second I had turned around after fixing that damn keg, seeing that mona lisa smile of yours (Yes - I have been calling it that and no, your ego does not need to grow two more sizes because of it), my heart was screaming, Hello, I love you.

(Those are in reference to a song; they don't count just yet).

I have a confession to make, which is partly why I wanted to write you this particular letter.

I put up a wall between you and myself then and there. I think that's the only secret I've ever kept from you. Because as much as I knew something was probably going to happen between the two of us, whatever it would have been, I knew you had the power to devastate my heart completely.

I didn’t get your name that day. Not until you showed up on my doorstep with my favourite flowers, asking me to forgive you, and you sat out in my backyard with everyone singing along to Southern Nights.

The first crack in the wall started when you followed me inside, helping me with the dishes. You were honest with me that night, not the person I thought you to be, and I realized you were putting on a show for others to see. And when I showed up in that long cool black dress at the hard deck that day, and you taught my klutzy ass how to throw a dart, the wall cracked further.

(I can hear you as I write, Jake Seresin. Saying I love your ass, don't diss my ass. Stop making everything sexual, you horny beast.)

Sadie knew it, too... that my walls were cracking. She sees everything. It's why she invited you on that damn hike. And there is also a part of me wondering if Ridley sent that damn sake from wherever she is now, hoping to get the two of us together - it would be something she'd do if she had the power.

Then, all of you guys were deployed. And everything that could have gone wrong went wrong.

I don't know if three little birds told me things were going to be alright back then, but I somehow knew, deep down, they would be -  even if you fly like you have nothing to lose and everything to prove. You don't, not to me. And oh, what a night it was when you came home.

I wanted you to kiss me that night. But I'm glad you didn't. Because the night I drifted away in your arms, you might as well have shot a missile from your F-18 and made my walls crumble almost completely.

Almost. Because what truly did it was when you let Sadie hang on to you during that thunderstorm. How you cared for her and told her it was going to be okay. How good you were with her and how you might be with your own. I will never stop saying how much that meant to me- what it still means to me.

Then you rammed me up against my hallway, and I had to really hang on for dear life.

(I just realized we never talked about our futures on our first date. We were too busy screaming Let's dance to figure out if Marriage/Kids, etc., were on the table - if they are something you want. Cause I'm all in Jake, whether we do or not. All I know is that I want to be with you - you and Sadie are enough.)

Then someone made himself known, and hell would have to freeze over before I mentioned his name in a letter to you - Dream on asshole. But you loved, yes loved, me through my worst moments, Sadie's worst moments. When I sang as a Blue healer for my feelings deep blue, when sons and daughters of people long gone raged, and I had to hide in my bathtub, waiting till it was all over.

When you showed me it was okay to live and experience life through the bad moments, that it was okay to remember my sister, even in the rays of a sunset from the sky. And when you made me want to scream sex on fire, cause damn Jake, we definitely weren't taking things slow.

I won't mention the 'incident' with George or how much rain I saw when Bradley drove me home. I know; I've always known how much generational trauma you've carried in your blood throughout your entire life. I will say, though, out of all the songs that had to play on the jukebox the night things for Sadie and I finally came to an end, it had to be Come a little bit closer. (That pissed me off, you have no idea, Jake.... stop laughing, you asshole).

And although it’s been weeks for me since you left me standing at the end of my driveway, after you apologized and I felt like a Sapling, searching for an Oak, watching you drive off to go our separate ways for a small length of time, being worlds apart, I’m counting down the minutes, the hours, the seconds till I can tell you what you need to hear.

Because My sister had a box. A just-in-case box. Filled with letters, objects, and memories. I finally opened it, with Sadie, of course, on an evening I will never soon forget. I don't want a repeat of that. Of me finally visiting Ridley and reading her letter, her last words to me on her grave.

I don't want that to be us.

So Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, after breaking down my walls not once but twice, I will not write those three words down in this letter. I'd rather tell you in person. So I can see your face when I do. I’m a fair lady - if you wanted me to wait to tell you until you are home, I’m waiting till you come home.

So much of our relationship started backwards. A first kiss before the first date, an extended sleepover before the first touch. We made a promise to each other, not already realizing we had already broken it.

So, sir, if you think the second I see your face, I'm not going to try to jump you, drag you home and lock Sadie out of my bedroom, you can kiss this idea of going slow out the window. Life's too short to go slow when... well, you'll find out soon enough.

And I know you think Sadie doesn’t want to see you again. That's she's still mad at you and will be forever mad for what happened. But I know for a fact the second she sees you, she will jump into your arms. You’re her uncle - you count more than you’ll ever know. 

And while sleep deprivation is my remaining side effect from dealing with the grief I’ve shouldered, I know part of it involves counting down the days for when I can fall asleep with you next to me.

And maybe even doing something else ;)

Your darlin' Elizabeth

P.S. Sadie wanted to send some Polaroids - I promise you, she doesn't hate you, but I know you're still going to think otherwise until you come home. We went on a hike, so there are probably some bug-themed ones in there... I'm sorry for what you see... so if you have anyone lurking over your shoulder, you might want to be careful. They aren't for everyone.

You were right about one thing: he was still so sure Sadie had it out for him. The day she had cornered him at the beach haunted his thoughts. The look and level of disappointment she had on her face would forever remain imprinted in his head.

Yet, he still wiped at his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair, his heart feeling like it was going to beat out of his chest. He reached into the envelope and grabbed at the small stack.

The first few were from the hike you mentioned; Sadie chose one of you, sitting on the same rock she had done last year. He still had the photo he took on his phone. There were some ones with bugs, no question about it. But they weren't random ones, either.

There was one of Sadie surrounded by what looked like to be monarchs. Jake had never seen her look so happy, her smile wide and beautiful, and he couldn't help the grin on his face looking down at the image.

But when Jake went to slide the image of Sadie behind the others, he did a double take, quickly hiding the following polaroid from view.

You wouldn't have, he thought. There was no way.

Jake glanced around the hall, turning the collection of pictures down to face the table in his hands, wondering if anyone had seen what he had seen. But next to Bradley, who was too engrossed in his own letter even to lift his head, the hall had cleared itself out, leaving the two of them practically alone.

Hesitantly lifting his hands, Jake slid Sadie's photo over, carefully peering down at the image of you.

You. On your bed. Half naked.

You seemed carefree, leaning back on your bed, damp tendrils of your hair half clinging to your face, half covering the sharp lines of your neck. Oh, how many times he had kissed that neck, and now, seeing it on display, only for him - Jake had to draw in a sharp breath.

And his dog tags hanging between your half-bare breasts, framed by the silk of your robe, glinting in the soft, warm sunlight from your bedroom window. And written along the bottom... Come home and take them back ;)

You cheeky... Jake could feel the heat rush to his face: surprise, desire, and pure pride. He was thousands of miles away, and you found yet another way to remind him of what awaited him when he got home.

The Mona Lisa smile, as you had so deemed, spread wide across his face as he whispered to himself in one ragged breath, "Damn, Liz."

He felt himself getting hard just looking at you.

He'd send you a message when they were closer to American soil, hoping you and Sadie would be there to greet him. But more importantly, if you'd make plans for Penny to take Sadie that night. Cause fuck the lock on your bedroom door. He wanted to find out all the ways he could make you scream for him, all the sounds you had yet to make for him.

Until then, Jake climbed into his bunk that night, reading your letter over and over, staring at the photo you had gifted him, wondering and coming up with all the ways the two of you would celebrate his homecoming. Because lying on that narrow bunk, he couldn't stop his rampant thoughts.

He could almost feel the silk of your robe against his fingertips, the wet strands of your hair brushing against his palms, and the warmth of your skin. And those fucking dog tags he gave you, nestled between the soft curves of your breasts - everything made a fierce heat coil in the lower half of his stomach.

Jake shifted uncomfortably, the rough sheets tangling around his legs, the damp are doing little to soothe his fevered skin. He rolled over into his pillow, trying to summon any other thought but that photo - anything to take his mind off the overwhelming feeling of pure want that consumed him.

You were there, in every corner he turned to, beckoning him with both those innocent and mischievous glint in your eyes, making him crave the day he finally came home. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to find some semblance of calm against the lust you had ignited within him.

But falling asleep, his dreams were only filled with you. And all the ways he'd finally have you cumming on his cock.

...

Jake jolted awake to the sound of a high-pitched beeping in his ears, almost hitting the bunk above his. His stomach felt uneasy, like it had been flipped upside down, and every sense was screaming at him something was wrong. He was off balance, unable to ground himself to a solid point.

He hated not being in control.

Rooster shouted from the bunk above, and Jake pressed himself against the tiny wall as he felt himself tilted hard to the side, masked by a shutter that shook their entire room.

Bradley wasn't as lucky, rolling straight out of his bed and landing hard on the ground with a massive thunk. Jake wanted to laugh, but even he couldn't stop the grimace as he heard the sound.

Bradley groaned a long, pitful sound, lifting himself to rest on his hands. "What the hell is going on?!"

"What do you think, Bradshaw? You've never been stuck in a storm on a deployment before?"

He knew he shouldn't be so snarky with Bradley, but this morning had left him in a sour mood. Not to mention, the storm was but another obstacle in his path stopping him from getting home sooner.

It was going to be a long night.

Bradley sat up, about to reply with a remark just as snarky, when the PA system blared above their heads.

All currently available personnel report to the lower decks for assistance. I repeat all currently available personnel report to the lower decks for assistance.

Jake tore out of bed, and Bradley stood sharply, both reaching for their fight suits, putting them on in a rush. As Bradley laced his boots, Jake reached for your letter and picture on his bed, quickly shoving them inside the packet he had in his chest pocket with the other Polaroids.

He didn't know if and when he'd be back here.

As the pair emerged from their room, they had to dodge multiple people flying past in a mass panic, trying to get to their respective stations. The added struggle of not knowing what the carrier was going to throw at them next also didn't help. All Jake and Bradley knew was that, given a storm, let alone even in a hurricane, they needed to be down at the lower docks, reinforcing the restraints on the Jets.

The ship groaned, then shook, the floor vibrating beneath their feet.

"What the hell was that?" Bradley shouted, his voice strained with concern. Jake struggled to steady himself, gripping a nearby railing. His Texian accent was strong as he shouted his reply, "It doesn't matter. Let's just get to the hanger bay!"

It was pure chaos the second they arrived. Bright flashing red emergency lights, crew members scrambling in every direction. Next to the high-pitched alarm going off every other second, the ship continued to creak and groan, rocking enough that Jake and Bradley had to steady themselves.

"Get the damn secondary restraints on the F-18s!" A senior official shouted as they passed. Jake and Bradley's 'Yes, sir' only seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The pair raced towards the first jet, stopping momentarily to assist what they needed to do. Jake's voice was barely audible above the chaos. "We need to get the secondary straps down and make sure the wheel jacks are in place!"

Bradley shot him a disdainful look. "Thanks for stating the obvious. I was about to suggest a picnic."

Jake gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to snap back. "Not now, Bradshaw."

Bradley only rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

As they began to secure the planes, the ground started to tilt enough to throw them off balance if they weren't careful. Jake and Bradley tried to brace themselves as one adjusted the straps while the other secured the wheel jacks.

A cry for help managed to break through the alarms and shouts, and both turned towards the sound. Bradley was closest, shouting out, "I got it!" before running off, not bothering to hear Jake's reply.

The sound of a wire recoiling, snapping hard like a whip through the air, startled Jake, making him turn sharply. A wooden crate, the height of his chest, had broken loose from its net, sliding directly towards him.

Bracing himself, Jake charged forward, holding out his hands to stop it from crashing into the jet behind him. He grunted hard as the wood slammed into his palms. Jake used as much strength as he could gather, baring his teeth and straining his muscles, to push the crate back towards where it came from.

Jake's mechanic from before suddenly appeared next to him, helping him push the crate back into the relative safety of the net.

"What the hell is going on?!" Jake shouted over the alarm system. The mechanic continued to work as he replied, "Everything! The whole ship is going to hell! We've got engine failure. Some of the airlock doors won't seal properly on the lowest deck, and to fucking top it off, one of the ballast tanks is compromised! In a fucking hurricane!"

That would explain the rocking, Jake thought, as the ship titled back, allowing for the create to easily slide back into its original spot with no more effort. The mechanic knotted the net through a few metal loops on the ground while Jake rested his hands on his knees, bent over and panting hard.

The second he finished, the mechanic left Jake standing there as he was called off towards another task.

Jake straightened, looking around to see where he was needed next, his eyes instantly landing on Rooster, who was dealing with his own crate. He ran towards him, using his weight to help Bradley push the crate back and away into its designated spot.

The two managed to secure it, and struggling to catch his breath, Bradley glared at Jake. "Didn't need your help."

"Of course, you didn't," Jake retorted, frustration evident.

"I had it handled."

"Right," Jake panted.

"Always gotta be the hero, don't you, Hangman?" Rooster grumbled.

Whatever had encouraged him to reach an olive branch earlier was long gone. Whether it was Rooster's words or the situation, Jake simply had enough.

He hit Bradley square in his chest with both hands, sending him backwards a few steps. "Okay, what's your damn problem with me, Bradshaw?!"

"Now?!" Bradley shouted, ready to fight it out. "You want to do this now?"

"Good as time as any!" Jake remarked, throwing his hands to the side in open invitation. He was tired of Rooster's animosity, of the constant back and forth, but damn if he wasn't ready for the confrontation.

"What is it? My call-sign? What I did to earn it!?" Jake cocked his head, stepping to the side, causing the two pilots to circle each other. "Or is it what I said about your old man two years ago?! You didn't even let me finish, so I couldn't have said anything that truly pissed you off. And you know what, not that it matters, but I'm sorry if it hurt your feelings."

The floor shook beneath their feet, but neither man seemed phased. Bradley only fisted his hands tighter with each remark that passed Jake's lips.

"Or is it Liz? Sadie? The fact they welcomed me in with open arms, loved me, and there wasn't a hell of a thing you could have to stop it?"

The surrounding chaos only seemed to amplify Bradley's longstanding irritation with Jake. Bradley stalked forward, slamming his hands to Jake's chest and returning the favour.

"It's everything! Everything you stand for!" he shouted, his nostrils flaring hard. "Don't you dare say Sadie's name, not when I know you are going to leave that little girl out to dry. I won't have it, Hangman!

Recognition flashed in Jake's eyes, and he knew, he understood right then, amongst all the chaos and panic, the lengths any one of the Daggers would go to make sure their bug was loved and protected above all else.

It had never been about you. It had always, always been about Sadie.

"Sadie?!" he shouted. "That's the reason?"

Jake clenched his fists, struggling to find the words. "You think I would ever abandon Sadie? Or Liz? You've seen me, day in and day out, fighting for them, fighting fucking Tyler, fighting to get back to them. I would die before they were hurt. Before any one of you were hurt."

"But you did! The second your brother asked you to." Bradley's voice hardened. "Answer me this: in the heat of the moment, when you're faced with a choice, can you honestly tell me you'd put them first?"

Tyler and everything he had wrought flashed in Bradlely's mind, but he pressed on.

"Not your pride, not your ego, but them? Or any of us. Unasked or not on the job! Cause I know you wouldn't!"

Jake reeled back, Bradley's words hitting him hard. But Bradley didn't falter. His face was still lit up with all the pent-up anger and frustration he held for Jake since the day he got his call sign.

"I see the man behind the show, the guy who thinks he's invincible. But you're not." Bradley pointed his finger. "Until you prove otherwise, I won't trust you with them. Not with Sadie. Not with Liz. Not with any of us."

Jake opened his mouth to reply, but a shout from the officer who gave them orders before interrupted him.

"You two, Top Gun! Quit standing around and go to the communications office and see where we are at with our navigation systems!"

Bradley stomped past Jake without another word, leaving him to silently fume for a few seconds before following him out of the hanger.

In the dimly lit, claustrophobic corridors of the carrier, the metallic walls groaned, strained by the might of the storm. Water or steam, they weren't sure which, was starting to pool in patches along the floor. With each wave and rock the ship encountered, the intermittent jolts sent the two pilots grasping for whatever was nearest to stay upright as they tried to make it to the communications office.

Following Bradley, Jake felt a spike of irritation. 'Why's he got to make everything so damn personal?' Jake thought bitterly. Bradley, meanwhile, was a simmering pot of anger.

"Why do you always have to be right in the middle of everything, Hangman?" Bradley shot over his shoulder, clearly irritated. "Can't you just once follow orders without making it about you?"

Jake gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a retort. "Look, can we just get to the comms and figure this out? We can bicker like an old married couple later."

Bradley's face twisted in a smirk, his pace never faltering. "Don't flatter yourself. I have standards."

A loud klaxon sounded, the eerie wail echoing through the narrow halls of the carrier. Jake and Bradley covered their ears, falling into the walls.

The second they managed to pull themselves up onto their feet, the PA system blared out another warning.

Begin bail-out and evacuation procedures. I repeat, Begin bail-out and evacuation procedures. All personnel should be on the upper decks in five minutes.

Jake turned to Bradley, his face filled with urgency. "We need to go! Now!"

Bradley snarled. He had no idea whether it was out of frustration with the current situation or Jake barking orders at him. But Jake was having none of it, grabbing Bradley hard by the collar of his suit and tugging him hard.

Jake's eyes were hard and furious as he remarked, "I'm not dying today, and neither should you."

Something flashed in Bradley's eyes that Jake could not name. But it was enough to give Bradley pause, water droplets running down his face as the anger and tension decided to leave him from earlier.

"We need to get home! For the girls," Jake roughed out. "For Liz and Sadie! Whatever hate you have towards me, we need to get out for them. Now!"

Another name came to Bradley's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, even now. Instead, Bradley could only sallow and nod. He couldn't deny Jake was right.

It was damn near impossible to sink an aircraft carrier. Jake and Bradley knew this. The things were built to withstand the roughest seas, hurricanes included. They were the most balanced and sturdiest things that ever graced any body of water on this planet. They had to be if aviators were literally landing planes on them.

But as water continued to breach the carrier, and as the pair raced through the ship to get to a proper stairwell that would get them to the relief point on the upper decks, they both wondered about the series of unfortunate events that led them to this point. The mechanics in the hangar bay had said everything was going wrong.

Bradley was on the verge of saying sabotage, wondering if they had a spy amongst their ranks. The mission had gone so much better than they had thought. But In their line of work, if something suspicious didn't happen, then their job wasn't over.

Jake just wanted to get both of them out of there.

They finally reached one of the escape hatches, a stairwell that led directly to the upper deck. Bradley was the one to turn the wheel on the door first, Jake joining in shortly after once he realized the sheer force Rooster was putting into opening the door.

A pressure vale released, and the second the two managed to open the door, Jake surged forward, followed by Bradley, who made their way into the narrow stairwell, hoping all had not been lost.

Jake paused on the small landing, looking up at the flights guided by the emergency light. There were a few fires scattering the walls, but it was climbable, and if both of them hurried, they wouldn't have any issues.

Bradley's hand on his shoulder made him pause.

"Dude, we have to book it."

Jake turned his head, ready with a cocky reply of something resembling a 'you don't think I know that' until he took in Bradley's panicked face, staring at the stairs below. Following Bradley's eyes, Jake reeled, noticing the rising water levels.

Grabbing Rooster by the back of his suit, Jake pulled Bradley in front of him, pushing him up the stairs, urging him forward and shouting, Go!

The two tried not to look up as they climbed, picturing their destination in their minds. Ignoring the sound of the alarm and the rushing water, Jake and Bradley counted their steps as they tried to reach the top. And they were close. Even as the rest of the ship creaked and groaned, they still fought to reach the top, unaware if help was waiting for them on the other side.

Then something blew up on one of the upper levels, the sound, the vibration, causing Jake and Bradley to slam themselves into the wall, trying to make themselves as small as possible. The lights flickered once, twice, then completely out, before a rotating red emergency light dimly lit the narrow stairwell. Metal crunched above their heads, snapping like twigs, and Jake didn't dare look up for fear of what might happen to either of them.

They felt it before they saw it, thin metal snapping out from underneath their feet. Feeling himself lurching forward, Jake immediately reached out for anything to hold on to. His fingers met a railing untouched by damage, and he latched on, suddenly opening his eyes to pull himself up and towards the relative safety of the remnants of the broken landing.

Bradley hadn't been so lucky.

Because the falling debris favoured his side of the stairs, the section he'd been crouching against completely crumpled under the impact, leaving only an empty space where thick, rushing water roiled menacingly below. There was nothing Bradley could have clung to, nothing that would have saved him from falling towards those black depths or allowed him to reach the warped edges of that landing.

Till his hand slapped onto a piece of a broken railing, Bradley struggled to find a grip tight enough to counteract the sweat on his palms. A panicked noise escaped his mouth as he slid down the newly indented piece of metal, finally stopping just before the end, muscles taunt and ridged as he forced breath into his body.

Jake had managed to pull himself up onto the landing as Bradley had fallen, instantly rolling himself up onto his chest to look down for the pilot.

He was within reach, and Jake extended his hand, on the verge of falling off the flimsy piece of metal. Bradley was hanging on, barely, looking between Jake's hand and the beam, the metal becoming looser and looser by the second.

And yet, Bradley still wouldn't take his hand.

"For godsakes, Bradshaw, just take my fucking hand!"

Jake purposely tried to jolt his arm forward in emphasis, hoping Bradley would finally take the leap and let go. But Bradley bowed his head, trying to force air into his lungs through his mouth as he looked down. With each pulse of red light, the water appeared to be getting higher and higher with each second.

He let out a panicked noise, trying to adjust his slipping grip. The movement caused the metal beam to drop slightly further, accompanied by a jarring clang. Bradley cried out, trying to reach for the broken edge of the landing.

Jake could feel himself slipping, sliding forward until he caught his boot on the railing, locking his body tight as he hung over the edge. Sharp, broken pieces of metal bit into his stomach as he swayed, trying to reach once again.

"Bradley! Just take my hand!" he shouted over the alarms, not any less urgent than before. "Please!"

Jake had never begged a day in his life, let alone to someone like Rooster. But there was no way he wasn't going home without him. You would never forgive him, and Sadie would never recover. He knew that for a fact.

Metal snapped, and Bradley dropped another inch, thinking this was it. That the railing was no longer attached to whatever had been holding it in place, baring his entire weight. Bradley threw his arm up towards Jake's in a desperate move.

Jake grabbed his wrist at the last possible second, a pained shout escaping his lips as he completely absorbed his weight, metal grating bending underneath him. But the grip he had on the railing with his foot held, and Jake bowed his head in relief, taking a few seconds with Bradley hanging dangerously off his arm to ground himself, trying not to think about what might have happened had he not caught him.

Jake grunted hard as he pulled Rooster up, his other hand finding a grip on the fabric of his flight suit along his back, hoping the railing from where he grounded himself would hold long enough to support them both. Bradley did the same with Jake's, using it as leverage to hoist himself up over the edge, only to roll onto his back, breathing hard.

Jake twisted his body away from the edge, laying on his back next to Rooster, staring up at what remained of the remaining flights of stairs. With the water still rushing below them and red lights spinning above them, the two dagger pilots took a few seconds to recuperate in the middle of the danger.

"You had to wait till the last second, didn't you?" Jake roughed out, panting hard. Bradley took three deep breaths before managing to gasp out, "I had to keep it interesting, right?"

Jake slammed his eyes shut, rocking his head to the side in slight annoyance. Bringing himself to a stand, Jake held out his hand again to help Bradley up. This time, Rooster didn't refuse it, instantly throwing his arm out to grasp the back of Jake's elbow, hoisting himself up.

Jake went to let go the minute he was up, but Bradley's grip remained firm.

"This is the second time you've saved me," he said, trying to make out Jake's face in the red light and dropping water. "You could have left me this time, for everything I've done, said..."

"What would be the point?" Jake interrupted him. "If I'd left you, I'd be no better than the person you thought I was. Besides," Jake added, smirking, "who else would I have to constantly prove wrong if you weren't around?"

Bradley scoffed, a tint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Asshole."

Jake shrugged. "It's in my nature. Now, can we please get the hell out of here?"

Bradley nodded, releasing Jake's elbow. In a dramatic fashion, he gestured for Jake to lead the way, looking up towards the rest of their journey to escape. But Bradley's eyes widened in horror as he saw the chunk of ceiling, metal, and wiring breaking loose directly above Jake.

"Jake, move!" Bradley bellowed, his voice echoing with urgency as he dropped to the ground, trying to drag Jake with him.

But in the chaos of falling water, blinking lights and cacophony of alarms, Jake was a split second too late to comprehend the warning fully. Just as he turned to see the descending danger, the heavy debris crashed down, the force of the impact throwing him off balance, rocking whatever remained of the grating they were standing on.

A metallic clang resonated sharply, followed by the splash of water as Jake was sent reeling backwards. The last thing Bradley saw, huddled against the wall, was the look of shock and realization in Jake's eyes, his silhouette disappearing beneath the surging tide of murky water, quickly consuming any trace of him.

Bradley, mouth agape, crawled over to the edge, Jake's call-sign a cry masked by the high-pitched alarms.

"Hangman!"

Bradley couldn't see him anywhere. Water continued to rush into the space, and Bradley, kneeling against the metal grating, tried to spot any area where Jake could manage to resurface. But with the power out and the pulsing red emergency lights, he couldn't see beyond the water's black surface.

Last call, I repeat, last call for evacuation and bail-out procedures.

Rooster pulled himself to stand, weighing his options.

He could jump and look for Jake. Despite the precarious situation they found themselves in, the water was still slow to fill the narrow stairwell. Bradley estimated he had minutes before the water became too much for him to handle.

Or he could leave, save himself. Say he did everything he could. That Jake was lost, the situation was too dire.

That Jake died a hero, trying to save him once again.

But it wasn't even a choice; the decision had already been made. It had been made the second your face appeared in front of his, and how it changed into a faded memory of his mom, collapsing to the ground at the news of his father's death. And Bradley, watching it all from behind the corner of a wall, forever feeling small.

But then it wasn't him as a child, but Sadie, the same look on her face the day the two of you walked up the driveway of your sister's place. The same look he found on her face the day she ran into your backyard, pulling at grass.

Jake would be another person for the both of you to mourn. He couldn't let that happen.

Bradley crossed his arms over his chest and jumped, diving under the water.

All he could see was black.

I had to cliffhanger you guys one last time with this one 😂 Please forgive me....

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Part 21 - My Fair Lady Coming Soon 👀

-Wickett ;)

[goopys-art]

I love transformers and drew this because I thought Philza as a seeker would fit him. Loves flying, he's definitely a fighter jet. Then I had to draw Technoblade because his name already sounded like a tf name. He's a space shuttle and they go space exploring together. Have a few hcs for this au? under the cut ^^

I'm just being a nerd here alskdjgsgd Pre-war Philza: Philza is ancient. He's old and had been remodeled a few times. Better engines, sleeker and aerodynamic frame, etc. Got the whole "Angel of Death" thing going on coz he's so good at the craft job. A weapon for hire. It's what he's made for but always found it restrictive to devote his whole life to and sometimes he gets bodyguard jobs for important political figures and those are the worst! He's tired and wants to explore the vast universe. He would have wanted to get into engineering or xenobiology if he could. Most of his equipment are custom made by him. It's a part of his passion. He self taught himself a lot of trades and steals medical books so he knows how to treat himself and patch wounds. He's someone that wants to keep ahead so it makes sense to learn more but he runs into the threat of anyone finding out that the reason he's so good for several years is because he's been secretly doing things outside of what a fighter jet should be.

It drives him up the wall. He wants to be free to do what he wants and be what he wants. So when the decepticons first started making themselves known and the promise of rising up against the corrupt system sounded pretty nice... he doesn't sign up for the cause. He can see the signs of a war a mile a way and he would much rather get out while he can before the political tensions breaks into chaos.

Pre-war Techno: Technoblade would have done delivery work like transporting energon from one of the moons and back. He's space worthy and has pretty thick plating to do the job. He's also bored out of his mind. The most fun he gets is when he gets to travel further from Cybertron to load and unload trades and goods in neighboring planets. A good change in scenery but he always wanted more. So he hears of this illegal gladiatorial pit somewhere and thinks "Yeah, I could do that". There aren't any other choices. Since it's all underground, they wouldn't question a shuttle for wanting to get in. Fighting is cool. He's getting pretty good at it since he's big and that makes for a good show. He trains and finds swords his favorite to use. A crowd favorite the likes like Megatron but Techno would rather not fight the dude? He looks like he's trying to start a movement. That's not the kind of beef he wants to associate himself with. But now he's trapped because the pits aren't really safe in the long run and fighting had turned into outliving everyone else and that's kinda a lot? He just wanted to be more than just the delivery guy but now people know his name and he can't escape coz he's a criminal in the arena. The decepticons wanna recruit him and he really doesn't want to be tied down to anything anymore even if he agrees with their cause.

And then the two meet Philza's looking for a free space shuttle and Techno is looking to get out of Cybertron. They meet and are immediately like "Yeah, of course, we need to get out of here!" Riots are happening around them and they get as much stuff as they can and run. It was easy for them to slip away because everyone's focusing on the war rn. A lot of other neutrals are fleeing too and they blend right in but break away to make it out on their own.

They chill out in space and go planet hopping for supplies for years. If any trouble were to come their way, they destroy it. Typical Techno and Philza shenanigans. They are the strongest duo out there and keep adopting alien pets to go with them. Eventually they get a ship so Techno doesn't have to be a shuttle all the time and they set up a base far away from the war as they can. Headcanons: -They would have joined the decepticons because initially, the cause had some good points. Cybertron needed major change but Megatron's revolution would have been far too violent.

-Philza saw how dangerous the world would get really early on and wanted to get out. Fighting for a war even if he's made for it? Again? Like his whole life? "No sir. I've been through that. It never ends well."

-Technoblade is a name he gave himself in the pits. It's when he was still trying to find his own identity and found his love for pvp and swords.

-Technoblade saw a video of a pig once and said "yeah that's me"

-Philza makes Techno weapons all the time and then teaches him how to make his own.

-They're pretty efficient together but neither of them are mechanics or know how to make their own energon. So it had been a big struggle at first but they're both fast learners.

-They get mistaken for decepticons all the time. It's the stereotype and they fit the bill. Big brutish dude and a seeker. Both armed to the teeth.

-They become amicas after years of having each other's backs. Amica Endura is kinda like a best friends thing