#it's literally never too late to start welding!!!

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

That's honestly a perfectly valid reason and it had me second guessing too, lol. I ended up only really being able to afford stuff because I got financial aid and junk.

My leather gloves were like $40 and my welding jacket was nearly $80. Don't even get me started on the steel toed boots (though I did get them on sale!!) And now I have to get a welding hood that's gonna be like $300 bucks..

But, y'know-- it's all that expensive cause it lasts!! My gloves have been burned so many times cause I can't stop touching my metal while it's still hot, but they never burn all the way through cause they're full leather!! And my jacket is full cotton so it doesn't catch on fire from the sparks. And if I ever drop a heavy piece of metal, my feet are safe because of those expensive steel toes 🙏🙏

It is a lot of money, but it's so worth it! If you ever get the opportunity to start welding, I say you should absolutely take it 🗣️🗣️ It took me forever and.... so much hard work to even think about getting there, but it's so unbelievably worth it, my friend‼️

Okay, I know I'm a fandom art blog, but would anyone be interested in seeing my welds?

[minminyoonjii]

Hi hi! How are you? I hope you're doing okay!

just wanted to ask if you could write more of very little!reader, like maybe how ot8 reacts to them slipping into babyspace for the first time by having an accident.

This is my first ask ever, so with that I also want to say that your blog literally gives me so much comfort and I’ve probably read everything on your blog so far haha.

Thank you for writing stuff like this~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Hurt/Comfort|Domestic Settings|Fluffy|Soft Reassurance Fic|Crying|Wetting Self|Skzoo Drama|Gender Neutral! Reader|Changing Mats Spawn|Tooth Rotting Sweet

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.8K

Bang Chan

Toys scattered around you. "Up, up, up," you babbled, stacking the blocks higher. Giggles erupted past your lips when it all came tumbling down. You started building it again, your bladder uncomfortably full. "Daddy?" you called out but Chan didn't reply. You've never been to the bathroom without your Daddy before. "Gon' wait," you mumbled, trying to play with your blocks before the aching need to pee grew bigger. "Daddy!" you wailed when you couldn't hold back any more. Pee drenched your shorts and playmat. Chan stumbled into the room, his shoulder hitting the door, "Little one, are you okay?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest. Your cries didn't halt even though he was in the room. Chan carefully picked you up and bounced you in his arms, "Shh, shh. Daddy's here. Daddy's here, baby," he cooed, trying to coax you. Babbles of sobs spilt from your lips. Chan hooked his chin over your head, "It's okay, little one. Daddy will change you and we can cuddle up, hm?" he said, carrying you to the changing mat. You sniffled, suckling on your pacifier as he changed you out of your damp clothes. Chan cooed, "Are you feeling better, bubs?" he asked, wiping you down. You squirmed under the cold wipe, "Hhgh," you whined, trying to kick him. Chan chuckled, using the powder puff, "Don't try to kick Daddy, little one," he said, sliding the diaper up your back. You squirmed, staring up at him with pitiful glossy eyes. "My little baby," Chan said, lifting you back up.

Lee Minho

You crawled around the living room, your quick motions jolted the kitties around you. "Soong Soong," you called out, trying to catch Soongie's tail. Giggles spilt from your lips as Soongie swat his tail against your cheek. You plopped yourself down, catching your breath. "Meow," Dori mewled, nuzzling your lap. You gently patted him after being taught by Minho about being too rough. You pressed your legs together, your bladder threatening to burst the moment you relaxed. "Hhgh," you whined, trying to crawl to the bathroom but it was too late. Tears weld up in your eyes with a hint of shame and fear. "Mama, mama!" you cried, staying in your crawling position. Minho peeked his head from the kitchen, "Cupcake?" he questioned, turning off the stove. You looked up with splotchy tears, "Mama," you hiccuped, your head pounding from crying too hard. Minho gasped and carried you in his arms, "My little cupcake, did you have an accident?" he asked, bringing you to the changing mat. You suckled on your thumb, staring up at him. Minho undressed your damp clothes, "Oh, your little eyes dilated haven't they," he cooed, powdering your sensitive parts. You giggled when Soonie jumped up onto the changing mat and nuzzled your face. "Nom," you whispered, trying to bite his paw. Minho chuckled, carrying Soonie off you, "No biting the kitties, cupcake," he said, easing your feet through the diaper holes. You squirmed but Minho eventually managed to have you diapered up.

Seo Changbin

Skzoo's surrounded you, "Kith, kith," you said, holding Dweakki up with Jiniret. You giggled as they smooched, "Muah," you said, pairing Leebit with Han Quokka next when you felt the urge to pee. "Hhgh," you whined, getting up with wobbly legs. "Nee go fast," you whimpered, wobbling to the bathroom but your bladder relaxed. "Hic," you sniffled, standing in the puddle. "Look what Baba made, agi," Changbin said, not noticing the mess until you sobbed. He set the plate of pancakes aside, "Aigo-yah. It's okay, agi. Baba will clean you up, hm?" he said, carrying you. "Made mess," you sniffed, burrowing into his shoulder. Changbin rubbed your back, "Every little makes a mess once in a while, agi," he reassured, laying you on the changing mat. You felt your mind get heavy, the hazy clouded your senses. Changbin noticed a slight twinge of intrigue in your eyes. He held up a diaper and your eyes widened at it. "Did you slip?" Changbin murmured, placing a clean diaper on your chest. You gripped and tugged it, soft babbles echoed within the the room. Changbin cleaned you up and rubbed cream on your inner thighs, "Can Baba have the diaper back, agi?" he asked, his palm open and patient. You happily placed it in his hand, "Bah!" you exclaimed, trying to suckle your fist. Changbin chuckled, strapping the diaper on, "That's right, agi. I'm your Baba," he cooed, rubbing your tummy.

Hwang Hyunjin

"Tickles," you giggle, snuggling Kkami on your lap. You nuzzled your face into his fur. Kkami playfully licked your cheek. "Icky," you whined, wiping your cheek when he accidentally stepped on your tummy. You yelped, not realizing your bladder was full. You tried to get Kkami off but he just wanted to play, "Kkami off," you whined when he accidentally pressed down on your bladder. You hiccuped as pee trickled. Kkami barked at the pooling messy you say in. Alerting Hyunjin into the room, "Lovely? Is Kkami being a brat again?" he asked, going towards you when he heard a splosh. He tilted his head, "Ahh. An accident," Hyunjin realized, carrying you up. You pouted against his shoulder, "Kkami didn't want get off," you complained, making Hyunjin chuckle. "Bad Kkami," he said, kissing your forehead. You felt yourself get smaller when he towered over you on the changing mat. You wiggled your feet, loving the way he doted on you. Hyunjin cooed, placing a teether in your hands, "Chew on this while Papa cleans you up, hm?" he said, powdering your sensitive part. You didn't know how long past but Hyunjin carried you back up, "All clean," he said, placing you down in the crib. You whined at the lack of presence. Hyunjin kissed your forehead, "Papa will clean up and come back. Promise," he said, linking fingers with you.

Han Jisung

"Appa?" you called out, crawling around the kitchen. You looked into the living room and Jisung wasn't there. You jutted your bottom lip, "Appa?" you called out again, your voice twinged with worry and fear. You whined and found yourself trying to peek outside, "Pretty," you whispered when a bird flew into the window with a loud thud. You flinched at the sound, tears pooling in your eyes as you peed yourself scared. Your wails made their way upstairs, "Appa's here! Appa's right here," Jisung said, stomping down the stairs with a towel around his waist. You sniffled, "Made mess," you said, rubbing your eyes. Jisung frowned, carrying you, "It's okay, sweetie. Messes are normal," he reassured, rubbing your back. "Do you want to bathe with Appa?" he asked, kissing your cheek. You nodded, "With duckie?" you asked your word slurring by the minute. Jisung took notice of this change as he walked up the stairs, "Of course, duckie," he said, setting you on the counter. You sat still as Jisung undressed your dirty clothing, "Clean up time," he cooed, giving you a quick deep clean. Your giggles echoed within the walls, "Quack, quack" you babbled. Jisung chuckled, drying you up, "That's right, sweetheart. Ducks go quack," he said, laying you on the changing mat. It didn't take long for him to efficiently change you, "You smell all clean," he cooed, pampering kisses on your tummy. You giggled, trying to pull his hair. Jisung smiled, "Sweetie, Appa needs his hair. The bald look isn't for me yet," he chuckled, holding you close.

Lee Felix

"Sunbeam, mommy made brownies," he beamed, carrying a plate towards you. "Nom," you said, biting your teether. Felix chuckled, "Yes nom," he said, tugging the teether from your mouth as he fed you a piece. You wiggled, enjoying the dessert, "Mommy has to check his PC. Will you be okay for a second?" he asked, stroking your hair. You nodded, distracted by yummy brownies. Felix chuckled, "Be good," he said, sprinting up to his room. You sipped on your sippy cup, finishing the water inside as you laid on your tummy to play. "Hhgh," you whined as your bladder filled up. You stood up with shaky knees, your bladder sending shocks up your body with each step. "Hah," you said, as your breath hitched with pee trickling down your legs. "Mommy!" you shouted out, holding the cabinet for support. Felix sprinted down the stairs, "Yes, sunbeam?" he replied, instantly noticing your dilemma. Without another word, he laid you on the changing mat, changed your clothes into a Bokkari onesie and slipped a pacifier in your mouth. Your mind felt heavy and hazy at his attention. Felix chuckled, patting your diapered bottom, "Eepy time, sunshine," he chuckled, rocking your body. Sleep etched on your eyelids, somehow coaxing you to sleep. Felix chuckled, "Mommy knows best," he said, kissing your forehead.

Kim Seungmin

You looked around the living room for stray skzoos'. You don't know how Jiniret ended up behind the cabinet but there he was. "Puppy, puppy," you whispered, sticking your arm under places to find them. "Eh," you whined, trying to tug back your arm but it was stuck. "Hhgh," you whimpered, tugging harder but it hurt. You sobbed, "Dada!" you cried, sobbing hard enough that your bladder gave way. Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, looking for you when he noticed your position, "Munchkin!" he exclaimed, gently easing your arm from under the chair. You sobbed, crying into his chest in relief. Seungmin cooed, rubbing your back as he pulled the changing mat over, "You're okay, little munchkin," he said, changing you out of your damp clothes. You sniffled, curling your hands into fists as he placed mittens over your palms. Seungmin chuckled, lifting your hips as he tapped you up, "Wittle munchkin's like you should have mittens," he said, tickling your tummy. You squirmed, pouting at him. Seungmin grinned, laying you on the couch, "Dada's getting the mop, okay? Don't roll off," he cooed, placing a pillow beside you.

Yang Jeongin

"Jiniret, I love you," you said, holding Dweakki up. Jiniret scoffed, "I'm in love with another," you giggled, turning Jiniret away. Dweakki kneeled, "Who is this man?" you asked, moving Dweakki's hands over his eyes like he was crying. Jiniret turned back, "He. Is. Foxi.ny," you said, making Jiniret and Foxi.ny kiss. Dweakki lay on the floor, "I lost to the maknae!" you exclaimed, playing a kdrama outro. You wiggled your hips, "Need pee," you whined, getting up to the bathroom. You tried opening the door but it was locked. "Hhgh," you whined, doing the pee dance as you held your crotch. Whines spilt from your lips as you ended up peeing down your shorts. Jeongin opened the bathroom door, his phone blasting Spotify, "Angel?" he questioned, seeing the puddle beneath your feet. You sniffled, glaring at him through your glossy eyes. Jeongin's heart clenched, "Oh no. Ninnin's sorry, angel. He didn't hear you," he said, carrying you to the changing mat. "Aigo," he cooed, wiping you down and rubbing powder on your inner thighs, "I'm sorry," he said, tapping the diaper around your waist. You stopped glaring when Jeongin placed your pacifier past your lips, "Sorry, little angel," he sighed, cradling you to his bare chest. You nuzzled his smooth skin, comfort coating your mind. Jeongin nuzzled your hair, his chin hooking your head, "My baby angel," he whispered, kissing your forehead.

[zero-and-crew]

Anti!AU pt.2 Electric Boogaloo!

+ A Very Rough Doodle!

sorry it's very low quality lol information under the cut

WARNING: Talks about kidnapping !!!

Cosmo, Wanda and Timmy struggled to cope with the loss of Peri— Cosmo and Wanda literally lost their child. It was hard on them. Very hard. They spend a lot of time struggling to cope, before starting to heal just a little. It's not easy. There's always going to be that part missing from all of them.

The nursery they had is still set up in their castle, they couldn't bear to take it down— and sometimes they still visit it. But they have each other! And with that, they manage to cope. Together.

One day, Timmy, Cosmo, and Wanda are playing a game of pirates. Timmy, standing on his bed, welding a wooden sword and pretending to do battle with Wanda while Cosmo's tied up, pretending to be a hostage. He's just about to win and save his fairy friend from the captain's mighty rage when suddenly the sound of a fairy poofing into their room stops them.

The typical darker cloud of the anti-fairies fills a small spot in the room, and Wanda and Cosmo immediately drop the pirate act, readying their wands and putting themselves between who they assume to be their counterparts. Timmy, still holding his sword, holds it out to fight too. It's never good when an anti-fairy visits. They're all confused, and scared. But they're not going to lose another member of their already tiny family. The cloud dissipates, and to their surprise.. It's not Anti-Cosmo, or Anti-Wanda.. It's..

A baby.

They all stand there, confused and shocked more than anything.

The baby then introduces himself as Foop. Their son's anti-fairy.

Their baby has an anti-fairy. He's still alive, somewhere. Wait. Why is his anti-fairy here? Do his parents know where he is? Why did he come to them specifically? There must be a reason! Does he know what happened to their son? The look on his face implies he knows something.

When they ask him why he's there, the poor baby starts to cry. He's hungry, in need of a nap, and knows way too much for such a little guy. And it's really late. He should be in bed. He's already in his pajamas, maybe he snuck out after being out to bed. If he's really their son's anti-fairy, that means he can't be that old— so he must really need a nap. They can talk after he gets some rest.

It might be best.

They can give him a place to stay for the night. It's the least they can do, since they're not sure Anti-Cosmo would want them showing up at his castle with his son at this hour. Especially not after the last few visits... The countless accusations of him taking their son, even though he's nowhere to be found in Anti-Fairy, or Pixie world for that matter.

They know what to do, having learned how to care for their own son before he was born. So, they comfort the poor kid and magically refill his bottle. Eventually, he falls asleep— and stays that way for a while. When he wakes up the next morning, he's still not exactly ready to tell Cosmo and Wanda everything. But, he does tell them he knows their son is alive. He's even... talked. To Peri. He doesn't mention everything else he did. That'd be too much for everyone to handle at once. Too depressing.

They have a place where he can sleep— where he doesn't need to worry about Peri, or having to go see him. He has information they need. It's a fair trade. Anti-Cosmo, and Anti-Wanda don't immediately know where he is— so, he feels safe enough to stay there... He never really felt unsafe at home, especially with Anti-Wanda. He knows she means well. When he really didn't feel safe, was when he was with AC and Peri. He knows how awful Peri can be now..

He's not sure what dark thoughts plague Peri's mind, but he does know he's Peri's anti-fairy. His opposite. And nicer, much kinder and happier thoughts plague his own. Thoughts of whiskers and kittens or being kind to someone creep up on him and he hates it. He's not supposed to like those things. He does still enjoy the occasional bit of chaos, or bit of violence.

Of course, in Irep's mind— this means that Peri has the opposite problem. He must have some dark and twisted thoughts floating around his mind— and likely frequently. Thoughts of evil and torment, surely.

And he's not wrong.

We'll talk more about Anti-Cosmo and Peri's situation later :3 We're still working on Peri's ref! So it'll come with that post :3

[joyfuladorable]

omg tysm for the hcs!!

also i was wondering hpw do u think someof the spider ppl would react to peni’s attitude change 👀

No problem! ^w^

And OHHH just like Loads and Loads of Concern, probably.

Picture Gwen, having teamed up with Peter B and Noir and Ham to convince Miguel to recruit another member of their old gang because "Peni's literally a genius. She's Perfect for the job." Gwen hops through a portal into a dimly lit lab littered with mechanical parts and equipment that's been thrown around. There's no music, just the sound of a blowtorch sparking on and off and the clinking of metal.

She finds Peni in a stained jumpsuit, her back to her as she hunches over part of a New SP//dr suit that is Menacing in a way the old one never was. Gwen watches as Peni puts down the blowtorch and lifts up her welding mask. Peni sighs and says in a hoarse whisper, "Okay, let's see if this works."

And Spider crawls from his perch in Peni's collar and into its new cradle inside the mech. SP//dr's eyes light up Yellow, no friendly HUD with silly expressions to be seen. Piloted in the moment solely by Spider, the mech stands, towering over her like a protector. At the seeming success, Peni makes no exuberant cheer. She just looks into SP//dr's eyes and then down at the scattered blueprints written in her late father's penmanship.

A whispered, "Thank you, Father." passes her lips.

And then Gwen finally, tentatively, reveals herself. She compliments the suit. Asks Peni how she's been. Starts telling her about the Spider Society.

Peni listens silently with wide eyes for a few moments. She interrupts Gwen with a tight hug that gets even tighter when Spider uses the mechs arms to lift them Both up and spin them.

Gwen finishes explaining, gives Peni a watch, and Peni gets a heartfelt reunion with the Gang (with a notable exception). And they all can immediately tell something's Wrong and oh no Kid what Happened??

The story comes out slowly. A new coworker turned friend. A potential partner turned rogue during their first mission together. A loss of an aunt, who'd been getting better at being a parent, and of her friend, who she'd begun to see as a Best Friend. SP//dr wrecked once again at the end of it all, and a miracle blueprint found in her late father's belongings.

And the Gang looks at Peni and remembers standing like this with Miles all those months ago. They Know they can't save everyone, but it'll always Hurt and it's definitely Not Fair for any of them, especially Peni who looks small and tired but still rebuilt SP//dr and is Still Going. At least they can be there for her now.

She's definitely happier to be with her friends, and she makes New Ones, too!

Then she's back down the spiral when she learns about Canon Events, about what happened to Miguel, about Miles' status as an Anomaly. A gloom that falls over her and obsesses over Fixing It.

The Gang can't do much other than be there, make sure she eats, talk to her even when she's not entirely listening. Offer hugs when it all gets to feeling like Too Much. And then just trust that she'll get it eventually. She'll understand why it has to be this way. (It doesn't.)

[illicien]

“Nobody asked about my writing” meme

Ohhh thank you so much for the tag @amethyst-noir! Having read these questions already I can tell this is going to become a pain in the ass to answer, bless you and thank you for the suffering.

 1: what are you currently working on? 

Far too many things. My writing tab currently has open:

One-Time Thing (third part in progress, but I have all of the parts in the same doc)

HS / Mafia AU Outline (when this starts becoming a thing more effectively I hope every single one of you is ready for me to be the most whiny bitch on the timeline; when my wife said "oh that sounds like it'll be 300k" I was like lol I've never written anything that long! But this outline... this fucking outline...)

Captured (inspired by a whump prompt, whether this comes into existence is entirely dependent upon the whims of my muse and they are feeling incredibly tempestuous of late.)

Seeing Double (This remains my comfort fic to sit back in because writing Stephen occasionally manages to help reset my brain when I get stuck.)

WB Hanahaki (I completely blame a combination of @winterbonesthings @six-demon-bag and @bicycleonfire for the fact that this even started to happen.)

To The Victors (This is literally the fic I've had open and been casually poking at now and then since before I even started OTT and whether it will be finished is also dependent upon the whims of my muse.)

And that's all WinterBaron shit I just have that I'm casually flicking through depending on what is best meeting my interests at any given hour of the day.

2: summarize your current project 

Which one? I'm literally gonna randomize 1-6 and find out which project we're summarizing.

Well okay then. Seeing Double it is:

With the sudden splitting of timelines and opening of the multiverse, some of HYDRA's experiments in other worlds have created strange pathways to other worlds; while HYDRA has been mostly dealt with in their active timeline, the elimination of a specific base has left Sam, Bucky, and Zemo faced with an actively Winter Soldiered Bucky Barnes. Not quite sure how to handle their new situation, and mildly unnerved by the fact that this Winter Soldier has decided that obeying Zemo of all people is the best choice, Sam suggests taking him to Doctor Strange - because if anyone's going to be able to figure out sending him back to his own dimension, a sorcerer seems like the best option.

3: summarize your current project poorly 

(Same project? Different project? Different project.)

Zemo's fucking pissed to realize that he's in love with someone again; he'd ignore it, if it wasn't literally killing him.

4: describe your favorite character or characters

Tea sluts.

Oh, did you want a better description? Well you aren't getting one. They're tea sluts. You think they're perfectly put together, incredibly in control, and that's exactly what they like you to think as they casually sip their tea and pretend they're only the most sophisticated of people.

But it takes about two seconds to turn them from sophisticated and in control into whining little bitches. And I love that for them.

5: post a line from your current project without any context 

They'd taken time to collect - the remnants of Ultron scattered in a distinctive display, pieces welded together in a manner both grotesque and hauntingly beautiful.

6: how do you get through writers block?

Skip to a different project for a little bit. Sometimes it's less that I'm blocked in terms of writing, and more that I'm stuck on a specific scene or story, and moving on until I'm stuck on something else makes it easier for me to return to whatever I was initially stuck on.

7: would you want to live in the world of your current work? 

No. Not any of them. No thank you. Especially not anything MCU adjacent. I'll skip on that, thanks.

8: briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline 

My outlining process only really exists for fics that I am well aware / intend to be more than one chapter. For example, there was no real outline for OTT, and it did get away from me because of that, in part. That's why OTT turned into a series rather than just being multichapter.

When I do outline, however, I have a very specific set-up that involves first jotting down several notes from my brainstorming session as I typically bounce the initial concept off of someone. Many bullet points exist. From there, it's a matter of grouping them into relevant areas, and then breaking things down into chapters from that point. I'll occasionally make specific notes about particular dialogue pieces as related to specific bullet points. Before I do a final dive into starting to write pieces, I'll go over chapter bulletpoints again to see if there are any specific things that could use to be arranged elsewhere.

If I write without an outline for a multichapter story, we get chaos like Collared and Embraced which are both currently still sitting unfinished, despite my best efforts.

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project?

Okay so I'm gonna return to To The Victors for this one, even though I mentioned it once already earlier, because of all of them this one has a very visual set up.

Piercing suspension; human food trays; an old castle hall draped with purple silk and velvet; the contrast of highly mechanical chrome bits and pieces against elegant fabrics and stone walls

10: what song sums up your current work the best?

Ooo this is hard, especially since I decided to save this one specifically for the OTT finale...

We'll go with:

Tagging

Sending this one over to @six-demon-bag @winterbonesthings and @winterytrash cuz I'm sure y'all are working on something at least. @bicycleonfire too if you've got anything ongoing you wanna share 😉

[dfows]

Monday

August 26th, 2024

First day of lab!! Waiting for the bart.

I had to buy new boots from Acme because after 3 semesters of abuse, I had to retire my workboots from RPD. There was a hole near the big toe knuckle that sparks would go into. I ruined a pair of socks this way.

I got tims in size 7 and it is a little tight on my bunion on my right foot. I don't want to destroy these brand new boots. I have brought spats for this reason. They look extremely stupid, but I don't care. I always look extremely stupid in my welding getup anyway.

I am going to be slightly late ugh I hate being late. And youtube music has turned off for no reason. The service here is shitty I guess.

---

Ok I am not going to be late lol. Bart is pretty fast.

---

Welding was good?

I did mig. Just lines on plate. We were supposed to do the welding process from last semester but I figured I should get practice with the gun since I'm learning FCAW this semester. I did stick last semester and I probably will never do it again LOL. The gasless aspect of stick was nice, but ultimately I was bad at it and don't care enough to improve.

Anyway, at first my mig beads were blobby and disgusting. Partially because the plate was too cold, but also because my hand was unsteady and my travel speed was inconsistent and my distance away from the plate was inconsistent. Basically everything was inconsistent.

Also, I think I was a little too far because the nozzle is different this semester and the contact tip is a little more recessed into it, so the visible stickout is not the same as what I'm used to. Also my desk setup was a bit too high or low and after I fiddled with it a bit I was a little more comfortable.

Started with flat, then did a few lines of horizontal. Being able to see the arc is really helpful, because if I line up the arc with the toe of the previous bead, I am able to get a perfect overlap (no little valley). However, today I could not see the arc at all. So I focused on the edges of the cooling puddle and tried to keep my line straight. I failed a few times because I am not good at drawing a straight line. Also I had to weld over this lumpy plate and was simultaneously trying to fill in the lumps. But since I couldn't see very well, this did not go very smoothly. Literally. It was not smooth.

Man, I'm excited to have a welding journal. Finally, somewhere to put my photos. Previously I just texted the photos to all my friends, most of whom did not care.

Also, my spats were awesome. They covered my boots completely and didn't look too dorky. I will not end this semester with ruined boots, ok. Imma try to make these boots last the rest of my welding degree.

Speaking of welding degree, I may be taking more courses than I anticipated because I asked Javier when we get to do more practical things and less theoretical practice projects and he said "in the C class." So. I will take that into consideration.

James said I could make a stool though. Maybe I will attempt this if I have time outside of the real classwork. I could just model it on an existing stool? Seems like a reasonable place to start.

[totallysmores-blog]

I also really love ‘Alfred held the peacock‘ trope. so when he realizes the miraculous are in play in Paris, and that they are being weld by literal children, He is pissed and hunts down Fu. Only to realize, he‘s too late, Fu has lost his memory and transferred guardianship to ladybug, a literally child

Bruce didn’t get his pension for adopting sad strays from just anyone, so he makes it his mission to help them. There is no way he is going to allow children to carry the weight of the world on their own. They are his now and he has never allowed one of his to do it on their own, and he isn’t going to start now. He calls Bruce and asked for the worlds greatest detective to help his new super-powered grandchildren defeat a magical terrorist.

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 16

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 2.1k

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

The barrier was abandoned as you head back to the school. What was Aisha thinking? Telling the teachers their plan?

You huffed as you walked into your mothers office. Saul had stayed behind at the barrier with the Specialists while you and Aisha were escorted back by your mother and Mr Harvey. Stella, Terra and Musa were the only ones there, Bloom no where to be seen.

“Before you say anything, I didn’t say a thing, it was all this ones doing.” You hitched a thumb in Aisha’s direction. “The only thing I found out was Rosalind has been after me this whole time and has been using Bloom to get to me. She somehow knew the truth about who my mother was and knew she couldn’t use me to free her. So please please please tell me nothings happened yet and Bloom is just taking her time in the creepy hidden room?”

You sucked in a breath, forgetting to breath during your mini rant. The girls just looked shocked, less shocked than normal, they probably expect this kind of stuff now, nothing was easy when it came to your life.

You watched as Farah came back through the door way, having gone in search for Bloom. “They’re gone.”

So here you were, sitting around your dorm, having been shouted at by Mr Harvey; who you don’t think you’ve ever seen angry before. Terra stood up to him and then he locked you all in using magic…. could anything else go wrong. Oh wait, you spoke too soon.

You kicked back in your chair, leather boot clad feet up on the table as you listened to Stella go in on Aisha for being a snitch.

“Bloom is being selfish, the last thing Miss Dowling needs is to be worried about Rosalind.” That made you stir in your seat. Your feet came off the table with a thud.

“Stell, she does have a point there. You know how much shit we’ve cause Dowling, I know with the new found relationship status I could come across as bias but after all, all this shit is happening because of me once again. Can we just stop arguing for one second and figure out how were going to help?”

Your speech was interrupted by the flickering of lights. “Okay did anyone else see that or am I having some weird magic stroke?” The rest of the room murmured. Okay, not a stroke.

“This shouldn’t be happening, Alfea is an outpost it runs on magic.” Terra paced and Musa and Sam joined the rest of them in the room.

Sam, being able to walk through walls, decided to go and check it out. See what was happening.

“Wait I can come with you..” You volunteered but he had already vanished. “Okay thennn.” What felt like seconds later Sam was back through the wall screaming in agony, his stomach sliced open, blood soaked through his clothing.

“There’s a burned one in the school!”

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

The courtyard was the busiest you’d ever seen it. Your mother was using magic to slam windows shut, fire fairies were welding them shut completely. Saul was on one side dishing out armour and weapons to anyone who’d take it. Mr Harvey had set up a medical bay for the suspected casualties. Your mind was spinning. The voices had started when Sam came through the wall. Whispers in your mind almost like it was your subconscious. It was fucking annoying.

Looking around you saw a hell of a lot of scared faces. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, you hadn’t had a panic attack in months but it sure felt as if you were having one now. This was happening because of you. Innocent people were going to be hurt because the burned ones wanted one thing. You. Your eyes scanned the courtyard as your mothers speech rang out. Saul caught your eye, and gave you a look. Scared, worried, love. He conveyed it all with just one look. He was going to get hurt. Because of you. In that moment you knew what you had to do.

Trying to sneak away had failed. Since meeting Stella you knew you’d had a bond more stronger than friendship. You were blood and something about that gave her an edge. She knew you were about to do something stupid, she could literally feel the dread running through her veins.

“Please tell me you’re not going out there alone, how many times is it going to take for you to realise were better off as a team.”

Stella made you jump as she spoke up behind you, with her was Aisha and Bloom. Your ran your hands through your hair, pulling the long strands up onto a bun, the bobble on your wrist secured it in place.

“Actually, I could use some help.”

So the plan was set. Bloom would stay and distract Saul and your mother. They’d been keeping such a close eye on her lately that they were certain she was going to be the one to do something stupid and reckless. Oh how the roles had reversed. Aisha and Stella were coming with you, you needed Stella there to help you ground your powers. Like you’d always said, she was the light to your dark and vice versa. Aisha, well, she was a fucking powerful and smart fairy, couldn’t hurt to have her on your side.

Sneaking behind a wall just off the courtyard, you held your hands out allowing smoky black tendrils of magic flow freely from your shaking fingers. The portal opened and with one last look back at all the fear and chaos inside, you stepped through.

-Saul’s POV-

We got back to the school just in the nick of time. The courtyard was full of scared, fear fulled fairies and Specialists and all Saul could think of was his girl and why the fuck she wasn’t in the courtyard with the rest of the students.

His heart beat rapidly as he gave orders and handed out weapons and armour to every student he could. He was alerted to Y/N’s presence when he heard screaming and panicked cries from across the room. She was helping her friends carry Harveys kid, his torso clawed away at by the hands of a burned one.

He was too distracted, he couldn’t go to her straight away people would notice, even amongst all this chaos, they still had to be clever and careful. He was busy talking to Sky, still trying to keep his girl in his sights but he failed. Now seemed the only chance that he might get to tell Sky the truth about Asterdal and that’s what he did. How he killed Skys father to save himself after Andreas turned on him. Sky didn’t want to believe and he was pissed, but it needed to wait until after. After the burned ones weren’t knocking on their front door. He looked around again for you, wondering where the hell you were.

“Are you seriously looking for Y/N after you told me you killed my father?” Sky seethed, rightfully pissed off. “I don’t know where she is but she asked me to tell you she loves you, and she’s sorry, she said she would have said it herself but it would have been too obvious.” With that Sky walked away to the front line before Saul could ask him what she meant by sorry.

The burned ones were banging on the doors, windows, you name it. They had arrived. Farah parted the crowd of scared students like the red sea, Marco behind her telling people to keep their nerve. Saul joined them at the front armed and ready. Screams erupted as glass fell from the towering ceiling above. A fairy shot fire from his hands directly at the burned one who had fell through the roof. It charged it’s way towards the specialists, swords drawn, they charged forward, only to stop when the burned one changed coarse, leaving the students behind.

“What the hell was that.” Terra panicked and looked around for more signs of burned ones.

“They’re all moving together… like they’re looking for something.” Saul looked at Farah, realisation dawning on his face.

“Where’s Y/N?”

-Your POV-

The air was colder than usual. Maybe it’s because deep down you were scared shitless and the nerves were getting the better of you.

“Y/N you do know my mums gonna be here soon, with an actual army!” She ran after you, trying to keep up with your long strides.

“Stell, the burned ones have always been after me, from the start. I can’t stand back and not do anything. I know how to stop them, I’ve had the power all along, I’ve just been too afraid to use it. I need to draw on more power than I ever have before. That’s why I need you both here, so you can try and stop me if it gets out of control.”

You could hear the burned ones getting closer, their menacing growls echoing through the spindly trees. Shadows bounced around the outskirts of the space you were standing in. You didn’t realise you were crying until Stella brushed your tears away. Both fairies grabbed your hands.

“If anything happens, tell Saul I love him. I’ll never stop loving him even in death.”

You gave Stella one last hug and did the same with Aisha, taking a deep calming breath you stepped forward, your heavy boots squelching in the waterlogged field that overlooked the school you’d come to call home.

When you knew your friends were far enough away you opened up you senses, giving in to the power you possessed. Your eyes turned black and your body began to slowly lift from the ground, arms outstretched. You could feel the power swirling inside you. It’s presence made you gasp. Around you, a smoky black fog, your body was consumed in it, a visual representation of the power you held. You looked down to your fingers, to your body and smiled.

Fairies used to have wings but they had lost the ability to perform transformation magic so adapted and didn’t need them anymore. So it came as a surprise when you felt giant wings burst from your back, glowing black and white. This is what it meant to be the answer to all the realms problems. You smiled again, tears threatening to spill due to the feeling of being whole. This is who you were meant to be all along and now you had finally found yourself.

The burned ones sprung from the depths of the forrest. Your boot clad feet hit the ground with a thud and your smoky, bright wings fanned out behind you. You were ready. They charged towards you, their growls filling the air. Your hands shot out and your black tendrils of magic shot into their chests, ripping out the spark inside them. You watched as one by one they crashed to the ground around you. Their monster like growls no longer.

Your wings retracted and you breath deeply. The burned ones that had once surrounded you no longer deformed and burned. But there, laying on the ground, humans.

“What the fuck?”

You heard running footsteps and looked up dizzily to see your mum and Saul running towards you in worry.

They stopped, looking around at what had unfolded. “Well done Y/N.” You mother was tearing up, shocked, happy and proud. You stumbled towards Saul. He ran to you, swooping you up in his arms.

“Farah what’s wrong with her?!” Saul was panicked, brushing the hair back from your sweaty forehead. Your mothers hand came to rest on Sauls shoulder.

“It’s okay Saul, she’s just weak, let’s get her back to the school.”

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

That night, the lights came back on in Alfea. Your friends surrounded you as you lay in bed, all talking about the events that had unfolded and how you had earned your wings. How Stella and Aisha had helped you in your time of need. How Terra and Musa had helped save Sam, and how Bloom had helped distract everyone to make the whole plan a possibility.

As the girls chatted and laughed, you zoned out, looking around at each of them. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. A girl from no where in England, finding out she was a fairy, finding an amazing group of friends who she knew she’d have for life. Finding Saul, finding her mother, finding herself. She couldn’t help the happy tears that fell.

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

Oh my goshhhhhh! I hope you liked this chapter! I really enjoyed writing it! So much dramaaaa <3

As always please let me know what you thought! Comment, like, re-blog and if you wanna be in the tag list let me know!

CHAPTER 17.1 -------- CLICK HERE

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[hankwritten]

Hofstadter’s Law

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for MinnesotaMedic821, Drunk

“You sure this best way in, Jane?” Demo muttered quietly as he gazed up at the looming concrete spires of BLU base.

“I am very sure!” Soldier said, not quietly at all. Practically yelling actually. Right in Demo’s ear too, what with his arm slung around the RED’s shoulders as the only thing keeping him upright.

“Shhh!” Demo hushed him. “You want me to go half-deaf as well as half-blind? ‘Sides, the last thing we need right now is the other BLUs hearing us.”

Soldier’s head, lolling like a pad of butter sliding around a hot pan, took a long and winding trip from one side to the other. “…Why?”

“…Because I’m a RED in the middle of a nest o’ BLU corn snakes?” Demo raised a brow. “Ach, you really did have a number done, didn’t you? Remind me not to let you near the Everclear again.”

“Okay! I will definitely remind you!”

Demo eyed him dubiously. “Remind me what, Jane?”

The grey shell of the helmet stared at him for several seconds. “…What?”

“Let’s just get you in, aye? We can do all sorts of filling in each other’s memories when your toesies are tucked safe under your covers.”

But in order get the Soldier safely in bed, they’d need to first traverse the minefield of potential termination that was the center of BLU operations. No problem at all really. It was late—even if some of the mercs had hit the town like Demo and Soldier had, they’d certainly be back by now, fast asleep, no chance at all of waking up and discovering a very difficult to explain situation in the form of an enemy merc carrying around their Soldier. As long as they were quiet, they’d be perfectly safe.

Demo guided Soldier towards the back doors, at which point they promptly ran into the enemy Demoman.

The BLU, spread out on a fabric lawn chair surrounded by dust, desert, and least a half-dozen bottles, blinked wide-eyed at the pair who’d just come around with the low-speed but high-inertia gait of a drunk couple. He shook his head slightly, as though to dispel the ‘ole three am fog and ascertain that yes, that truly was his teammate being helped along by the RED demolition’s man. Demo, for his part, froze like he’d been staked to the ground.

Soldier, as heavy things are want to do, kept going at his expected velocity. It nearly took them both over—Demo had to abandon the arm under his shoulders, lunging to haul Soldier up the waist and folding him in half like a Panini.

“Well,” the BLU in the lawn chair said, “you two look like you had fun.”

His face was a mish-mash of raised brow and, perplexingly enough, a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he bore witness to the two truants. Most shockingly of all, there wasn’t a trace of surprise on his face now, just those shades of smug amusement you put on when watching a particularly entertaining drunkard. The fact that Demo was used to having that expression leveled at him was neither here nor there.

“Er…” he said eloquently.

The flash of dread that’d shot through him when he’d caught sight of the BLU was the worse case scenario of course: reported on, fired, dead in a gravel pit somewhere, all rendered in gory detail by his mind’s eye. (His overactive imagination a bloody menace sometimes.) But as the BLU continued to sit there, not sounding the alarm, not even looking particularly worried, Demo’s fear for his own neck slowly morphed into confusion.

“I was just er-”

“Oh, hello Demoman!” Soldier chimed in. “We have been out. Drinking alcohol!”

“I’ve heard that’s a fun pastime,” his teammate commented mildly.

“Don’t tell him that,” Demo complained, hauling Soldier to an upright position. “Jesus, this er, isn’t what it looks like, honestly.”

“Sure it isn’t,” the BLU said, wearing what could now be identified unmistakably as a smirk. He gestured with his bottle. “Back entrance ‘s that-a-way.”

A little ball of defensiveness, not matter how unjustified, rolled around in Demo’s gut to the point he wanted to stop and give the other Demoman a piece of his mind. Which would probably involve lying. And then consequences to lying since Soldier had already given away this wasn’t a one time thing. He shut his gob and took the out.

Until the hum of the BLU’s resumed tune was far behind them, until the curving architecture of the base would keep them from being overheard, he didn’t dare start asking questions. Only when he was sure that the corner they’d rounded was at a significant distance away did he accusatorily hiss, “what was that about?”

“Hm?” Soldier asked pleasantly. He fixed a dopey smile on his friend, a second ago which had been the responsibility of a beetle crawling a tuft of bullheadidly tenacious grass.

“Your Demo, why’d you tell him where we were? And why didn’t he flip out?”

“You’re my Demo,” Soldier hummed unhelpfully.

“Ach,” Demo said, realizing he’d get nowhere with the security lights and a whole herd of horseflies bearing down on them. “Fine, lets get you inside first. But I’ve still got some bloody questions.”

They’d arrived at the unassuming little door cut into the base’s thick concrete, welded metal gushing haphazardly from its size as though its very addition had been an afterthought. Demo motioned at Soldier.

“Pass me your keycard, lad.”

“M’what?”

“Keycard.” Demo’s heart sank. “You keep it in your wallet or something, right?”

Soldier stared at the card reader. He stared at long and hard, so long and hard that Demo was starting to wonder if the question had made it through his ear canals at all when he concluded, “I forgot it.”

“You for- Oh for the love of Pete.” Demo took the hand that wasn’t supporting his mate and rubbed it long suffering across his face. “Well that’s great. Bloody great, risk my arse hauling a drunken fart back to his base cause he can’t hold his bloody liquor, and we can’t even get in to the fecking-”

The door hissed, layers of dust shaking loose like with a sci-fi swish as the vacuum seal was opened to the desert night. Demo gawked, watching it shake away grit like it was built into the surface of Mars instead of a dead-end town in the middle of New Mexico, and letting out a wash of air-conditioned oxygen.

When it was partially ajar, it unveiled the BLU Sniper, arms folded and leaning on the inner wall.

“How…what?” Demo asked. Soldier was too busy looking at the beetle again to be perplexed.

“Heard you guys arguing from the roof.” Sniper jerked his thumb upwards. “If you were sneaking ‘round, might want to think about keeping your voice down in the future. Probably could’ve heard you all the way at RED.”

“I wasn’t- We weren’t-”

Sniper waited. When no adequate explanation was forthcoming he said, “you comin’? Cold air’s getting out.”

Demo grimaced, and began the arduous processes of lugging the Soldier inside.

Chill ran up where his t-shirt had sweated to his neck, Soldier fairing no better since they’d spent the past half hour (every moment since Demo had realized Soldier would be going nowhere on his own) with their sides pressed together. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until the cold ai) brought the slightest suggestion of relief to his (admittedly also not terribly sober) body.

“If this is going to be a running thing for you two, maybe don’t get so munted next time, yeah?” Sniper offered. It was neither reprimanding nor conversational, like this was a totally normal exchange happening here with a RED in a BLU hallway.

“Who said anything about a ‘running thing’?” Demo demanded. “You didn’t overhear that!”

Sniper raised a brow. “Soldier said you were his new best mate. I assumed that meant you’d both be out and about more than once.”

Demo grit his teeth, the pieces clicking into place. “Did he now.” He leveled his best attempt at a glare from his blindspot at the disoriented Soldier who, unsurprisingly, was more interested in resting his head on Demo’s shoulder than being reprimanded. “Well that’s good to know. Any chance you can point me to his room?”

Sniper took one gloved hand and shoved a thumb over his shoulder.

“Thanks. Cheers.”

“Goodbye Sniper,” Soldier said belatedly, a good three minutes after he’d disappeared around a corner. “Oh hey! My room!”

“Jane, is there anyone you didn’t tell about us?” Demo demanded.

Soldier thought for a moment. “…I didn’t tell any REDs.”

“Jane,” Demo groaned. “This is supposed to be a secret. What if one of them tells the Administrator? You want that? Going to be hard ever meeting up again if we’re both six feet under.”

For the first time, a bit of shame managed to reach the Soldier through the woolen mesh of his inebriated state, and he looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just got really excited. Wanted everyone to know I was hanging out with you.”

Demo sighed heavily, not up bullying his friend when he was in such a pathetic sate already. “I know you were. Ach, it’s fine. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.”

Later being sometime after he’d managed to deposit Soldier onto a four-poster, though with the way the night was going it seemed like that moment would never arrive. His outlook wasn’t improved when he opened the door of Soldier’s room and found that not only was it Soldier’s room, but the occupancy of the entire Offense division.

“Whzzat?” Scout said, rolling to his elbow just in time to be bombarded by the hall light. “Ahg, dammit Sol. What the hell man?”

Demo didn’t bother freezing this time, successfully desensitized to literally every BLU on the planet stumbling across his ill-advised trip through the enemy base. Instead, he walked over, dropped Soldier on the bed, and began helping him unlace his boots.

“What the-?” Scout said when he finally lowered his arm. “Oh right. You. Jesus, how ‘bout a little consideration for the sleeping guy?”

“Mmrrhaunna,” came from the bundle in the corner.

“Yeah, what they said.”

“You don’t got the right to be begging consideration from anyone, jackrabbit,” Demo said hotly as he frees the military-grade combat boots from Soldier’s feet. He threw a blanket over the man’s form, who sighed appreciatively and said something about how this would earn Demo a medal. “‘Sides, don’t need to worry about me no more. I just came to drop of your sergeant and get out of here.”

To prove it, he backed out of the room with hands raised. Mission complete. Time to get out of here and bring this mortifying night to an end.

He might have gotten away with it too, if Pyro hadn’t shot straight up and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Mrrhaha! Hudda hah ha hoo.”

Demo reared back slightly from the Pyro who was still very much in their rubber suit, now with added nightcap. Whatever the hell they were saying, they were very impassioned about it. He looked to the Scout for help.

“They want you to tuck them in too,” he said, and the light flooding in from the single open door was good enough to see that he was smirking as he did so.

“Wha- I’m not bloody tucking anyone in,” Demo said hotly.

“Hudda ha. Mrra haa hur ha.”

“You tucked Soldier in,” Scout translated. “Only fair.”

“Gurrhaha.”

“…Otherwise they’ll tattle.”

“I cannae bloody believe this,” Demo groaned, rubbing his face.

Grudgingly, he made his way over the giggling pyrotechnician, absolutely giddy to have gotten their way. Thankfully boots weren’t part of the pajama equation, and Demo had only to tuck in the blanket’s edges ‘round a pair of socked feet and a squirming, suit-clad body. When he tried to leave it at that, a keening noise stopped him, and he was forced to repeat the process for Mayor Balloonicorn. All the while, he could feel the Scout staring smugly at the back of his head.

“D’awww, ain’t that adorable. Going to be hard to be scared of you now, though. Y’know, after you swung by to give us goodnight kisses and all that crap.”

“Just for that, I’m going to have a sticky trap with your name on it, boyo,” Demo pointed an accusing finger in Scout’s direction. He just shrugged.

“But uh,” Scout added, just as Demo was finally about to make his escape. “Glad you turned out to be cool though. He was really gung ho about tonight. Its nice he has good friends besides us.”

Demo cast his gaze to Soldier, who’d fallen fitfully in the short while it’d taken to get Pyro off his back.

“…That’s good. It was a fun time.”

“Oh yeah?” Scout wiggled his eyebrows. “How fun?”

Demo took one of the pillows he’d used to burry Pyro in and flung it at Scout’s face.

“Sticky trap. Your name.”

He could still hear Scout snickering all the way out into the hall.

[brokentoasterrr]

i’ve been thinking a lot about how people treat female characters lately so i’m gonna rant about it kthx xoxo

this is mostly about shameless and their characters, but it’s applicable to other fandoms and i have a larger audience on this blog than i do on my other sideblog for other fandom shit, so hey. i don’t fucking understand why people criticise female characters far more than male characters.

like are you excusing shitty behaviour from male characters because their character arc is more lovable, or simply because they’re men? i see people criticising characters such as debbie and fiona gallagher and tami tamietti from shameless all the time, because what? they’re flawed, real characters? they have qualities that are seemingly irredeemable in the eyes of the fandom, while other characters have the same qualities along with a tendency to be homophobic, biphobic, racist and generally just a whole fucking asshole, yet those actions are excused when the same behaviour from a female character makes her bitchy.

you are allowed to hate characters and you’re allowed to criticise their actions and behaviour but you can’t solely hate on the female characters when the male ones are equally as flawed. it’s just wack to me.

is it about old stereotypes of women? like women were meant to stay in the kitchen at home, taking care of the kids and only speak when spoken to, never making her voice heard, and now when characters have personalities and behaviours that go against it, they’re worth bashing?

like, again, shameless as an example. debbie gallagher practically forces a boy to get her pregnant (bad), fights with fiona who doesn’t want to raise debbie’s kid when she decides that she wants to be a teenager (understandable, doesn’t happen, yet valid), debbie cares for her daughter as best as she can, going as far as to panhandle on the street with a baby strapped to her chest to support her (morally a good thing), later decides to sign up for community college and take welding classes so she eventually can make a living of off it to provide for her family (really good thing). she uses and manipulates people because she wants to do good for herself and her family and it is objectively bad for her to do so, but her intentions are pretty much always good.

mickey is constantly one step short of murder, and he’s racist and, wildly enough, very homophobic despite literally marrying a man; lip became an alcoholic, smashed his professor’s car, peed on a sorority mother, and then grew from that and made something of himself. carl was dealing drugs and got himself thrown in juvie where he started to appropriate the culture of black folks, and now he’s a cop. debbie did fucked up things but still always tried to do better, so why the fuck are we criticising her and her only for her bad actions, but not the other characters.

and, like, again. you are allowed to hate characters, but you have to judge them fairly and acknowledge that they aren’t all picture perfect, morally black and white people. half the shit that is interesting is when people are morally grey yet still redeemable because you grow to sympathise with them. people do bad things. it’s part of being human. don’t just judge the female leads because they’re doing bad things when the male leads are doing bad things too.

hate them as much as you want but no person is thoroughly bad for doing bad things, just like they’re not thoroughly good for doing good things. shit’s a whole monochromatic spectrum of good/bad deeds.

[triple-hbk]

This Isn't Everything You Are- Part 4

Part One Part Two Part Three You've been up all night, and the night before, You've lost count of drinks and time.

Blood dribbled down Shawn chin as they got outside of the bar. Shawn pushed himself away from Hunter and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

The hotel wasn't far away, a couple of blocks but Hunter didn't know if Shawn would make it. He didn't ask him he just followed Shawn's lead. If he looked like he was struggling, they could get a cab.

Shawn wiped a hand across his face, smearing blood over himself in his attempt to clean himself up. Blood was already trickling back to replace fluid, dripping down his chin and onto the ground, unseen in the dim light. Hunter wasn't in the mood to talk. Too many nights like this. Shawn had been mentioning his back hurting for a while now. Maybe a niggle at first. But it became something that started to wear on him a little. He took more pills for it until he had that fateful casket match. Hunter had seen the impact and worried, but Shawn seemed to be okay. The match carried on as planned and Shawn barely mentioned it in passing backstage.

But then he heard the news. Shawn's back was fucked was the only way to put it.

Vince had pulled him from the In Your House pay-per-view and the next stop was WrestleMania 14. Drop the belt to Austin and then.... well that was the thing. No one knew what was next. Shawn didn't have a clue what he was going to do. Vince didn't suggest any way in using Shawn but did say they'd work things out but Vince was adamant that Shawn should have a break for a while, work on his back and see what happened. So that's where they were. Shawn wasn't wrestling, but he was still required for TV appearances now and then, but things were bad. Shawn looked bad. Physically, he was in great shape. He'd been working to make himself stronger to get through the match and Hunter had never seen Shawn so physically looking fit and toned. But Hunter hated looking at him these days, at his face, in his eyes. He looked tired from too many late nights drinking, from passing out rather than going to sleep. His face was puffy from drinking too much, his eyes a soulless mess, blank and barely hiding the misery inside of him. Shawn couldn't stand thinking about what was ahead for him, so Shawn obliterated himself into drink and drugs constantly.

Tonight, he'd only just started. Hunter knew the routine. Because of the fight, Shawn would go to his hotel room and clean himself up, with Hunter's help. Then it'd be back to the bar for the rest of the night until they wouldn't serve him any more. Invariably, he'd pass out at some point and Hunter would struggle to get him back up to the hotel room. He remembered the physical strain of moving Shawn alone those first few times until one of the hotel staff took pity on him and offered the luggage trolley. He'd felt a little apprehensive. He imagined Shawn finding out what he'd done the following morning and losing his mind over it.

But in the end, it was the best he could do. It was wheel him up on a trolley or drag him around like a corpse.

And the reality was, he knew Shawn wouldn't actually remember anything, or ask questions. Every night they were together, he felt a little resentment build up in him.

He couldn't understand how hard it must be to be told you had to retire when you weren't ready. Shawn was only in his early 30's and that wasn't the time for careers to be over. He knew that it was hard and painful to accept but Shawn had to start accepting it. Instead, Shawn was getting reckless. With himself, with people around him. He lashed out at Vince a lot and Hunter had seen the man bite his tongue more often. And Hunter knew why. He'd spoke to Vince about things one week when Shawn was off. All he needed to do was put up with all the tantrums until they got to Wrestlemania and then, well, once Shawn wasn't the champion, and couldn't wrestle what power could he weld over Vince? The way Shawn was going, Hunter wouldn't be surprised if they weren't keen to wash their hands of him as soon as they could.

Shawn stopped walking abruptly.

“You gonna hurl?” Hunter asked, ready to step out of the way.

“I need to sit,” he said and headed to the steps leading to the doorway of a restaurant that was closed for the night.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his painkillers, dry swallowed them though not before he'd spat out another mouthful of blood.

Shawn closed his eyes, waiting for them to take effect and Hunter saw that look of genuine pain on Shawn's face, the one that he was prescribed the pills for in the first place. It made him feel sick when he truly thought about it.

As crazy as Shawn drove him, not having him there any longer would be weird. But he couldn't go on like this forever. One of them would snap.

And really, he didn't want him to go. This wasn't how this whole DX thing was supposed to go. He had so many ideas for them, things he hadn't discussed with Shawn, things that died the second he heard about Shawn's injury.

Shawn winced a little as he sat there. “What's wrong?” Hunter asked.

“Nuffin' jus' havin' a lil' spasm. It'll pass in a minute,” Shawn said.

Guilt gnawed at Hunter as he waited silently for Shawn to recover. He remembered a conversation he had with Kevin a couple of weeks ago when he'd had a tough week with Shawn and he'd unloaded a little more than he'd intended. He knew he'd sounded ungrateful and was bitching about Shawn and he hadn't wanted to, but he was hard work sometimes and he was tired of it. Of literally carrying Shawn.

Kevin had been his usual calm self, told him to hang in there and in a few weeks, he'd get his break from Shawn. He told Hunter it'd probably be good for Shawn to get away from the routine for a while and not to worry.

It had helped.

He looked to Shawn to see his friends eyes upon him. Scrutinising him. “What?” Hunter asked defensively, as though Shawn knew he'd had those bad thoughts about him a few weeks ago.

Shawn looked away. “Nothin'. Jus gonna miss all this.”

“It's not over,” Hunter said. “Rehab your back. Surgery if you have to, but you can come back.”

Shawn stood up. “If I can't wrestle, I don't wanna be here any more,” he said and started walking again. Continuing on the path back to their hotel.

Hunter watched him for a moment, wondering if he meant on the road with him, or just in general.

[the-fiction-witch]

Black and Red P5

REAL LIFE VAMPIRE COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FLIRTY

When I woke up I groaned a little turning over to check the time it's only eleven still I got back late last night. I sat up having a stretch and I noticed something, My bed was empty. I looked across the room and saw Thomas sat on my sofa with a blanket watching tv with a bowl of popcorn on his lap, I smiled going over sneaking up on him a little

"Comfy?" I asked

"ahh! fucking! Christ woman! don't sneak up on me like that"

"I thought you were a vampire? with all the super senses and what not?"

"I'm a vampire. Not physic."

"What are you doing?"

"Catching up, I have missed a lot" He said "What the hell has happened since I've been gone?"

"Lots."

"So many new countries"

"Yep"

"I missed so much," He says as he watched the screen and I had a bit of a giggle as I noticed he was watching twilight just as he was sparkling "I have never been so offended in my life"

"Yeah, that's universally hated"

"Good.... good, What is a vampire movie that's well-liked?"

"There aren't any. They're all terrible, You'd Like Tim burton though. That's kinda his vibe"

"Is it? good. Also what is cardor and can I have some?"

"what?"

"cardor? It was on the tv"

"Carte D'or? it's ice ceam thomas"

"Ohh..... can we get some?"

"I thought you drank blood?"

"I do."

"And eat like meat?"

"I do"

"So why do you want ice cream?"

"am I not allowed to want ice cream?" he asks "I'm pretty sure perfum is for vampires... it looked like it"

"No that's just perfume Thomas it's how they advertise. You can't really sell  a smell via tv without getting creative"

"But why where they all like nuzzling each others necks and looking like they were gonna bite or fuck each other?"

"Maybe you just saw a particularly gothic ad"

"Maybe, either that Or I just saw it like that. It has been many hundreds of years... Not surprised I'm a little horny. seriously DO NOT take a black light to that mausoleum... you will not like what you discover."

"Why?"

"I've been sealed away in that thing for hundreds of years, on my own.... intermittently sleeping. and eating. what do you think I've been doing?"

"You're disgusting" I sighed going for a bath

"What? I drink human blood and eat flesh, that your fine with but jerking off is where you draw the line?"

"Do not jerk off In my house you disgusting monster" I yelled

"..... Where was that an hour ago?"

"DO not jerk off in my house or so help me I am sealing you back in that mausoleum and welding the fucking door shut" I warned him heading into the bathroom running my hot steamy bath with a nice bath bomb starting to wash my skin and he came and leant on the door frame making me jump a little

"Maybe I should mate with you. You're as whiney as a wife" He sighed "And you already have the aesthetic"

"shut up Thomas" I sighed

"whoa.... Holy... I am HOT!" he yelled excitedly I was a little confused looking over at him as he stood eagerly over my sink staring at himself in my mirror

"What?" I laughed

"what? I've not seen myself before. vampires don't have reflections not sure why I do now?"

"People stopped using mercury in mirrors it's just glass"

"Oh. so I have a reflection now?" He said, "I definitely need to shave."

"I don't mind it" I shrug

"don't you? the first person to tell me that in a thousand years" He laughs

"Question?" I asked as he was still inspecting himself in the mirror

"Yes?"

"Why are you in here?"

"This is where the mirror is?"

"There is a mirror on my vanity thomas. you do not need to be here"

"why not?"

"This is my bathroom. I am... In a bath"

"Ohh relax, vampire women, run around half-naked all the time. Unmarried ones ran through the forests naked when I was younger"

"So what times have changed get out of my bathroom!" I told him

"Fine, you look beautiful though my littlw wiccan"

"Out!" I ordered, and he did go I finished my bath and got wrapped up in my robe going out to see im still at my vanity looking at himself "That's how narsisius died you know" I told him

"Ohh please, the tales around his death were greatly exaggerated to make that point," He says

"Move," I told him so he moved over till there was enough space for me to sit too, so I sighed sitting beside him and starting to do my makeup and hair for the day

"Goth girl" He smirked

"what?" "Goth girl" He smirked looking at my make up

"Shut up, I like it."

"you are so committed to it aren't you? this lipstick literally says coven on it"

"I like the colour, and it smells like vanilla"

"sure you do" He smirked

"How do you know about how he died?" I asked

"who?"

"Narsisius"

"Oh. he was my dad's friend's son I think. hard to remember it was so long ago now" "wasn't that like.... way way back?"

"I did say I have been gone a while"

"Not that long"

"Vampires have been around a long time my little Wiccan." "Ohh shut up, please stop calling me that" "Why? it's cute. it suits you"

"How long exactly?" I asked ignoring him

"I have no idea. the calendar keeps changing. Every time I come back for a while the whole system different." he sighed "But I remember him, used to go to the river a lot. but not to stare at himself" "Then to do what?"

"He was a colossal fucking perv" He laughs "He used to go down and watch the girls bathe on a Thursday afternoon"

"And you know this? How?" I smirked as I blended my makeup

"I was two hundred leave me alone"

"No, I won't" "I was a teenager leave me be"

"two hundred is teen by your standards?"

"Yeah?"

"so... when you were two hundred?"

"I was mentally like, fourteen if that. But I looked about six. Yeah I had problems with that. Late bloomer my mum said, My dad, said I was too much like my mother" He laughs "But he used to go down the river watch the girls and uhhh... you know with himself."

"so how did he die?"

"He got obsessed with it. he'd be down there twice a day, the practically pitched a tent and moved down the river just so he could be pervy and jerk off all the time"

"so?"

"so, you live off a diet of forest berries and you jerk off sixteen times a day it's gonna kill you after a while"

"Hu. fair enough" I shrug "Are all that kinda people vampires?" "Most of them, I'm not sure how you guys never figured that out, human or blood sacrifices, living forever, never aging, amazing powers, mating with humans make half human half other."

"You have a point there"

[my-writings-and-musings]

hey! so idk if you write platonic relationships but if you do, could you write something about whirl asking someone to be his amica endura? i just. i need more whirl love in my life and GODDAMN i love the way you write him sm gshdjf,,, thank you!! <33

I miiiiggghhht have gone a little overboard on this one and made it more of a short story than an answer... But I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the compliment, I do try my best to write Whirley well!

Whirl doesn't like to let fear boss him around. Ordinarily that's easy enough to accomplish, he's a big bot and threatening his life is a great way to end yours, and any threat he can't kill (for moral or legal reasons) can usually be ignored out of existence. As a result he's had very little to be afraid of these past few millennia, and he's even perfected his reflexes to the point he can quickly judge what reaction is warranted whenever that creeping feeling returns, meaning it never lasts more than a few minutes tops. It's a solid strategy, and the proof is that he's outlived everyone who's ever doubted it. Most of them, anyway. He's been getting sloppy since this whole quest thing.

Or more specifically, since he met you on this quest thing. The quest thing that's becoming less about the quest and more about the real treasure you've all gained along the way, which for once isn't the (many) guns he's found or the (countless) bad guy corpses he's left in the rearview mirrors.

Nope. It's you. The squishiest little air breather his optic has ever beheld, and darn the saps on this crew for rubbing off on him, because he wants to go out of his way to let you know that. Their silly insistence on honesty has made him feel like you need to know what you mean to him, and isn't that just ridiculous?

But if it's so ridiculous why was he scared? Because you could say no, damn it! You'd be silly not to! It was one thing for you to hang out with the ship's resident screw up and part time nutjob, maybe even have a drink with him, and sure you'd actually called him your friend and the two of you had looked death in the eye to insult its cataracts on more than one occasion together... But to officially declare to the crew and the universe you were Amica Endura and that you actually liked him?

You'd be mortified he even thought it was okay to ask, obviously. Then you'd wisely cut all ties and pretend you didn't know him, and he'd be left with... well, not nothing, but not much above nothing either. Worse actually now that he considered it, he'd probably be left with pain. The kind of pain you only got when you lost something, a particular experience he'd spent a very long time trying to ensure he'd never have to endure again, and he'd been doing pretty well until you showed up. But he wasn't mad at you, he was mad at himself, both for having the audacity to grow feelings and then getting soft enough to actually acknowledge them like a sap.

But facing fear was far better than the alternative. If he kept on pretending you were just another chum, that you didn't deserve the title of Amica for what you meant to him, then he'd have guilt. More guilt, to be specific, and he was already fully stocked on that. So... fear it was then. Fear and the inevitable pain that would follow when you did the only sane thing you could.

But hey, what was another mistake in the pile, right?

You'd been in your room by yourself, just relaxing an perusing the wonders of interstellar Wi-Fi, when he'd decided there literally couldn't be a better time. Some bots insisted that a proper ceremony required witnesses, but those bots couldn't judge him if there were no witnesses, now could they? Checkmate, seeing as how the two of you would definitely never speak to each other again after this... His claws had knocked on the door with as little force as he could muster, some part of him hoping you wouldn't hear and he'd have a reason to retreat, but as usual he also had to open his mouth and ruin that plan.

"Hey, Y/N, you uh... you alive in there?"

Approximating a facepalm as best he could without either half of the required components, his spark dropped when you replied with a good natured laugh, probably thinking he was just being his usual self and not making much sense. Which was true, just not in the usual way...

You'd happily opened the door with a command on your data pad, inviting him to come in and relax because you weren't up to anything anyway. Claws clacking together nervously, he'd entered with an unconvincing veneer of calm, far too worried to really pretend otherwise. Long legs carry him with slow steps, and he can't help but survey your room; he's certain this is the last time he'll ever see it. Your tiny belongings looking so ridiculously small in the Cybertronian sized living space, the ladders that have been welded to everything, gosh, is it foggy in here or is that just some emotional turmoil in his optic?

"Whirl? Are you okay?"

Of course not, but thanks for asking is what he wants to say, but a more accurate reply would involve him mentioning how things were actually really okay for a while... Until he'd started messing it all up, a process he'd be finishing up now so you could both move on with your lives.

"Oh... that's a matter of debate." He finally brings himself to say, claws firmly pinched to prevent him from any further tapping. You look more concerned than baffled, which is nice. Somehow you'd always managed to look past what he said to understand what he means. That's something he'll miss, once he finally manages to get this over with. Of course his voicebox is pitching a fit and refusing to cooperate, but it's going to be a simple series of steps once he gets it going. He'll ask you to be Amica, you'll refuse, and then he leaves. It's such a simple plan that even he can't find something to blow up in the process. Not for lack of trying, mind you...

"Is there something you need? You've been a little off lately." You said, putting aside your data pad to move to the edge of the berth. It hadn't escaped your notice that the usually loud mech had been growing quiet around you as of late, his one optic looking almost forlornly in your direction when he thought you were focused elsewhere, and so you sat and let your legs dangle off the berth to let him know you were listening. His antenna twitched backwards like a startled ear on a mammal.

"Me? Well, I'd be inclined to say..." Some half attempt at a joke died before it even could be set up, and he quickly decided the stalling had gone on long enough. If he had to endure one more second of gnawing apprehension he was going to have to destroy something exceptionally expensive to shake off the nerves, and he had just gotten his room the way he liked it. Better to go down with some dignity if he could. "You're spot on, actually. I've been off because I've got something I've gotta get off my chassis, but it's not gonna be fun for either of us. Still needs to be done though, ain't that a shame?"

Any other person on the ship would have been terrified if he'd said that to them. They'd have expected some kind of terrible bodily injury, no doubt, but you knew him better than that. You knew that if he wanted to hurt anyone it would happen as soon as he entered a room, and with something way more intimidating to kick off the fun. Instead your expression was just thoughtful, concerned, and only a little confused. "I... if it upsets you then yeah, but why do you have to do it?"

"Do you know what an Amica is?" He blurted out, the words almost hurting as they came into being. It felt like he had just struck another match, surrounded himself with fuel, and this time there'd be no interruptions.

"Amica?"

"There an echo in here?" He said dryly, unable to help jumping on the chance for an old classic. Apologetically lowering his optics, he released a quick bit of air from his vents in imitation of a cough. "Yeah, that, know what it is?"

"Sure, it's like... best friends, only way deeper, bound for life." You said, recalling it amongst the many Cybertronian terms you'd been learning these past few months. It had obviously had cultural implications and connections you just didn't have the experience to understand, but the importance of the practice had been abundantly clear from the moment you first heard of it. Chief among the things you'd been able to determine was that it carried no less weight than being a Conjunx, it was just a different kind of love.

He clicked his claws together in an imitation of an affirming snap. "That's the one. It's tough to explain to aliens, but that's the basic rundown, and there's a whole ceremony to it and everything. Did you know that?" He appreciated that you only shook your head and looked back to him for an explanation, it made it quite clear you were intent on listening as much as possible. "A bot has to ask the one who's less likely to ask, and they get to say yes or no during the ceremony. I'd imagine by now you've figured out I came here to ask you to be my Amica, start the ceremony and everything, only thing stopping me is I... just don't want to."

It was the first time he'd surprised you in a long time. There had been... well, you'd been fairly certain he was leading up to something else there, and had just been nervous. You had to repeat back what he'd said in a question for clarification. "You don't want to ask me?"

"What? No! Don't put words in the mouth I don't have!" He replied vigorously, taking a step closer to your berth and throwing up his arms in total consternation. Upon seeing your comforting near smile of reasurance, he drops his claws and holds them near his face, a gesture he typically only performs when anxious. Thoughts are beginning to run wild in his head, so he knows he'll have to wrap this up before they sidetrack him, or he'll never get it done. Bless your little fleshy fuel pump for wanting to comfort him, but there just isn't time for that. "What I'm trying to get across here, or say or whatever, is that I want to but I shouldn't..."

"Ah... why shouldn't you? Does me being a human make it... illegal?" You ask, finally getting an inkling as to what's going on. As usual, his burying of the lede means you're far less shocked than you should be now that he's actually getting to the point, but you want to use that to stay calm. Whirl has been a dear friend to you, as protective as could be from the moment he decided he liked you. The least you can do is be what he needs by letting him talk things out in a way that works for him, even if it feels so much easier to cut to the chase; you'd love to be his Amica no matter the hurdles.

"You and I both know that would only make it better. Illegal friendship? Sounds more like an endorsement than a deterrent to me." It's hard for him not to laugh at the very idea. If this was actually against some law? Oh, how very different things would be... Somehow he'd feel okay then, perhaps because this would just be another of his crazy ideas, and not something sentimental and completely irreconcilable with who he was. Previously upright antenna drooped low at the disappointment. "But... no, no such luck. It's not illegal for me to ask you, just stupid, because you're going to say no."

Suddenly so many things made sense, but in the shock of sadness that followed you couldn't help but speak, your own disappointment showing through. "I am?"

"Well of course you are! That little pink glob between your ears is smart enough to know better! If you were most saps, sure, you'd probably say yes because oooh friendship, but the fact that you're sensible enough to say no is exactly why I want to ask!" He replied, sounding emphatic instead of angry. Despite being a master at appearing mad for the sake of self defense, he can't bring himself to appear anything but... sad. Every part of him is wilting from the sadness that's clocking in early. Because you have to say no, that's just how this works, and his resignation to that fact is clear no matter how badly he wishes it wasn't true. "Believe me, I know what smart looks like. I know what sensible looks like. Most people have a terrible deficit of the two, but not... not you. That's what makes you worth asking, and also worth saying no. Weird, huh?"

Your heart is breaking, somewhat for you, but mostly for him. Did he really think he was unworthy of friendship? Of any kind of love? Clearly you were his best friend, but in the fog of self loathing clouding his vision, he's convinced himself that it has to end now that he truly feels he isn't alone. "Whirl..."

Venting in sharply, like a human sucking in a breath to hold off tears, he perks up and gestures a claw back over his shoulder. "Look, I'm just going to save us both some drama and skip to the part where you kick me out. Since I'm nice, I'll even pretend you're big enough to actually do it. I'll throw myself into the hallway and everything, really seal-"

"Whirl." You say softly, knowing that yelling won't help but desperate to keep him from leaving. It works, but he pretends to be interested in the floor, crouching like he's preemptively flinching away from a hit. It's not the first time you've seen him do this. Coming to understand the big bot had been more natural for you than most, but had still taken effort, and in all the trial and error you'd learned he just needed things phrased a little differently. Thus, you decided to give what you'd learned a final trial.

"Can I at least... actually get a chance to say no?"

It was just indirect enough to immediately catch his attention, but his wounded look remained unchanged, like he didn't dare hope.

"Any particular reason why?" He asked, tilting his helm as if you've piqued his interest with a daring and devilish scheme. There's a lot going on behind his optic, but you're unflinching as he levies it back on you, smiling to emphasize you have nothing to hide.

"It's... well, it's not really fair for you to decide something for me, is it? Even if you know what the answer will be, shouldn't I get the chance to make that choice myself in the moment?"

He clacks his claws together to imitate snapping fingers. "Damn it all, you're a clever little fleshy, I'll give you that. Appealing to my peerless sense of justice for self determination to get your way." The mask of neutrality is razor thin, and beneath it he's anything but calm. None of this is going the way he planned. Far from casting him out, you're encouraging him to go through with this, but why? You can't actually plan to say yes, so why all this fuss? It's not in you to set him up, but he can't bring himself to hope he has a chance at the impossible... So he just plays along like it's all a game, albeit a very sad one, and one he intends to play carelessly. "If you... I'll give you the way to say no and the way to say yes, okay? That way you'll... really mean it when you say no."

"I promise I'll mean it." You say, wishing so badly he'd believe you wanted his friendship. It'd be so much easier than coordinating with him to give you a chance to accept his Amica proposal. Yet you know his manner of processing can't be argued with, so instead you just keep going, praying he'll let you have a chance to show how much you care. "But I need to know how it all works."

"Well, I'll say some fancy words, show my spark, all that mushy stuff most folks love." He waves his claws about, as if to brush away the silliness of the ceremony right there. The idea of baring a spark surprises you, but you keep quiet, focused only on getting through to the part he's convinced himself won't happen. Even as he continues his pessimistic prediction is obvious in his tone. "Then, when I've said my piece and pause, you just say "I refuse" and it's all over, we don't have to talk again, I'll leave and..."

If you were close enough you'd have laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but thankfully your silent look of encouragement does the job, and he overlaps his wrists whilst looking away.

"But if you were going to say yes, hypothetically, then after my pause you just go quiet and... put your little digits on mine... Then repeat after me when I say "today, tomorrow and always" to wrap it up. But since that isn't happening, let's just get this over with, eh?"

It's the flattest one of his jokes has ever fallen. For all his skill keeping his feelings reigned in, even he can't prevent a little bit of intimidation slipping through. It's impossible not to be afraid, because he wants so badly to hope, but he knows what happens when he does... Still, he wants to at least get it over with, and he gathers himself just as you give your final encouragement with a smile.

"Lets."

Clearing his vents, it occurs to him that he's never been more self conscious than he is right now, which is an unfortunate feeling to prelude him baring his spark.

The soft glow fills the room as he shifts back his chest plating, revealing the orb of his "soul" as you'd once called it, and he internally admits that your quiet expression of awe gives him the boost he needs to start. "I bid you stand in the glow of my spark... so um, that you may feel the heat of my words and k-know them to be true."

It's arguably one of the only times he's ever stuttered, and while you don't react, he's never felt more foolish. Was it not enough for him to make a spectacle out of himself just by doing this? Did he really have to butcher the whole process too? Feeling dizzy, he forces his voicebox to try and start making words again. He's painfully aware of how ridiculous he looks; one eyed, mangled screw up trying to be sentimental... But darn it all, he made a commitment. Putting his claws beside his spark, he kept going into what he knew would be a bitter end.

"I invite you to receive my light and in doing so become my Amica Endura—from now until forever."

He doesn't realize he's at the end until he runs out of words. The fear and helplessness that follow are akin to the level he'd experience falling off a cliff with no flight to save him, and for an eternity he's left floundering in anticipation of the impact. This is supposed to be it, the moment you turn him away and rightfully go forward in life, better off for having left him. But you're quiet. Your words of dismissal aren't forthcoming, and your soft and somewhat sad little smile doesn't indicate that he should expect them. But why not?! Why won't you say them?! What could you possibly hope to gain by accepting?

You hardly dare to breathe as you wait for him to begin the next phase. The glow of his spark illuminates everything, allowing you to see the fear in every inch of his being, particularly his lone expressive optic. He doesn't want to believe you're saying yes, as much as he treasures you, he just can't believe you'd ever feel the same about him. But you do, and you try to communicate that with every fiber of your being. You want to be friends with him through anything that may come, and you pray that he can see the depth of your conviction in your eyes.

Something like a hiccup shakes his shoulders. You haven't refused him. It's been almost a minute, the light of his spark fluttering as the sheer power of his emotions coursed through it, namely his disbelief that any of this could be real. Something like relief but a million times stronger makes his vents hitch. He's still processing the turn of events when he remembers he has more to say.

"Ah... Y/N... for you... um... for your acceptance..." He croaks, trying to keep an accursed tear from leaving his optic by briefly tilting back his helm. You're similiarly affected, but you let yourself sniffle and shed a few tears as he approaches with his claws out to you. They're big enough that even a semblance of holding hands isn't really possible, but you grab the tip of each and squeeze regardless, knowing the sentiment is still quite clear. You're his friend, and you always will be, through thick and thin. Now he's finally starting to see that too.

He doesn't fully have a grasp on the fact that this is real, but he doesn't care about that as much as he should. You were his Amica Endura, his dearest friend, and you somehow liked him enough that all the baggage was worth it. With one of your tiny hands on each of his clawtips, he finished the ceremony. Each word felt light as a feather when he spoke it. "As you are to me, may I be to you—today, tomorrow, and always."

"Today, tomorrow, and always." You echo, meaning it with everything you are. There's no grand finale, but the emotion in his optic and quivering antenna is more impressive than any supernova. He doesn't seem to want to pull his claws away as he shifts his chest plating back into position, and you're happy to oblige, keeping a solid hold on his claws as if your tiny body is his lifeline.

"You didn't say no." He says as the glow of his spark disappears. It's a tone for a statement but he obviously wants it to be a question, and he only keeps it from being one because he's still too overwhelmed to ask that many yet.

You can't help but sniffle as you try to sound confident. "Of course I didn't."

"We're still friends." He says softly, closing his claws together so incredibly gently around your hands, letting the two of you be a little more connected as he marvels at his luck. Of all the squishies in the galaxy, this trip had led him to you, the one who made him happier than anything. Despite all sense you loved him, and he loves you back, and the two of you would get to keep on adventuring after this. You smile as you repeat your vow to make your dedication clear.

"Today, tomorrow, and always."

Those words strike a tender chord in his still sensitive spark, for you to believe them so confidently you'll repeat them with ease, and he's promoted to react on a whim.

"Can we hug?"

"Hug?"

"Is there an ech-" The rapid fire reflex of a joke fades out in the face of his genuine and unheard of desire for a bit of tender contact. Releasing your hands, he opens his arms to make his point clear, and is delighted when you start nodding even before he's done asking. "Yes, if you don't mind... okay? Okay."

It's more of a hug for you than him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzle against his helm to show affection, feeling him wrap as much of his gangly frame around you as possible without risking any kind of damage. While this may not be the first time he's initiated something like this, it's one of very few rare occasions, and thus you know this is special. You can feel how badly he wants the comfort through the ease he shows at your touch.

"You want to stay like this for a bit?" You ask gingerly, getting settled so you can stay comfortable for a few minutes cuddled up to him.

"Mhmm." He says softly, admitting to himself that hugs might actually be worth the fuss after all. Tiny hands reassuringly pat his shoulder, encouraging him to stay in place while he basks in this single perfect moment. He hadn't dared to hope you'd still be friends after this, but here you were, your little body holding and comforting him as if he wasn't several times your size. Funny thing, that fate, eh?

"Take your time."

"Y/N?" He whispers softly into the quiet, wanting to say one final thing before taking a few minutes to enjoy your company.

"Hm?"

There's a tiny pause before he holds you close with one final statement.

"Thanks."

[jawritter]

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Chapter 6,

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo​​​​​

Square Field: Christmas Tree

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Fluff, brief mention of past trauma, light angst.

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 7 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST**    **MASTERLIST**    **BECOME A PATREON**

Snow, you had seriously never seen this much snow in your life. You were starting to think it was never going to stop snowing. It snowed all night long, finally slowing to light dusting somewhere around daybreak, and by the time you and Dean had pulled yourselves out of bed, it was evident no one was going anywhere until the snowplows came through to clear the roads, which could take a few days. 

You were totally fine with the idea of hanging around the cabin today. It had been a busy week already. Dean had gone above and beyond what anyone had ever done for you already, and if today was just a day where you hugged out and did nothing, that was okay. Not every day had to be some grand adventure for you. 

Dean, on the other hand, had been eyeing the cluster of small Canaan Firs on the back corner of the property all day. They were just big and full enough to make a small Christmas tree for the two of you. So, without much explanation other than, “get your coat and boots,” you followed Dean towards the little cluster of trees. The small ax he’d found in Baby’s trunk was swung over his shoulder as he trudged ahead of you through the almost kneed deep snow, making a path for you to easier walk in as he paved the way forward to his destination. 

From a few paces back you could see the white flurries land on his broad shoulders as well as the back of his jacket and sock hat as he went, his large silhouette standing out in stark contrast to the snow as he pushed on forward through the unforgiving cold. 

You could hear him humming along to a tune that you didn’t recognize as he turned over his shoulder giving you a little smirk while he watched you struggle to keep up with him through the deep snow. Being short wasn’t exactly working in your favor at the moment, and he paused, turning to fully face you with the ax still slung lazily over his shoulder much like he did his vampire machetes after a hunt. 

“Need me to carry you Y/N/N,” he called sarcastically, and you childishly stuck your tongue out at him before answering. 

“I’m doing just fine on my own Winchester!” 

“Okay, Sweetheart, I was just offering since the snow is almost as tall as you are. I was afraid you’d fall into a drift and I wouldn’t be able to find you until the snow melted,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes dramatically. 

“You just worry about getting us a tree cut down and stop worrying about me,” you tell him, earning a deep chuckle from him as he turned and started to make his way toward the tree line again. 

The sun was starting to go down, it was late but you and Dean both had been pretty lazy today. Doing nothing but watching Christmas movies, you pick this time, and eat as much artery-clogging food as you could manage since you didn’t have Sam the health nut breathing down your throat. The darkening sky overhead cast an almost postcard type feel to the scenery around you, but your gaze was on the back of Dean’s head as he hummed along his way.

He looked particularly smug with himself as he kept making his way towards his goal, still chuckling as your footsteps crunch along behind him. Your inner child was screaming at you to not let him get away with that. So reaching down as you went, you grabbed a handful of snow in your gloved hands and started to pound it into a ball. 

Just as Dean turned to make another comment about you talking all day to catch up to him, you launched the snowball, hitting him squarely in his broad chest, laughing as he looked grumpily from you to the show that still clung to the outer layer of jacket that was on his body before a smile carved by the devil himself appeared on those pink, wind kissed lips of his. 

“Oh Baby, it’s on now.”

Reaching down on the ground in front of him, Dean grabbed a handful of his own snow.

You turn to try and run back towards the house for safety, but it was no use, he was taller and faster than you were. Before you could even take three steps you were nailed in the back with a larger snowball, and Dean’s laugh echoed through the cold air around you as you staggered a little. 

You quickly try to gather up another snowball, but Dean was faster, quickly launching another and barely missing you as you ducked lower to the ground. 

Deciding to change your tactics a little, you charge at him, hurling two more snowballs in his directions. He rolled across the ground to escape them, laughing as you cursed and scrambled to gather up more snow.

“Oh, now you want to play dirty? Well, you shouldn’t write checks you can’t cash baby girl,” he growled playfully, looking up from his sprawled out position with his eyes almost glowing with a childlike excitement you had never seen in Dean before.

Without warning he jumped off the ground, running towards you at an impressive speed. The sudden change totally threw you, and all you could was stand there like an idiot for a moment before turning on your heels and bolting back in the opposite direction. 

Unfortunately, your pause was going to be your demise. Dean’s long legs carried him to you faster than you would have guessed possible, one long arm wrapping around your torso as the other grabbed a handful of fresh powder, dumping it down the back of your shirt and jacket. 

You twist and try to get away from the cold, screaming and laughing until your lungs hurt. If anyone was watching they were surely going to think he was killing you. Both of you were laughing so hard at this point that Dean lost his footing, falling down on his backside and pulling you down with him, both of you lying there in the snow as you tried to catch your breath from your little snowball fight. 

“Okay, truce?” Dean asked breathlessly, still smiling widely. The dim light of the winter evening casting the most gorgeous glow over the exposed skin of his face that you suddenly realized was very, very close to yours, and that you were still sitting on top of him. 

For just a moment you contemplated revenge, but decided better of it, knowing Dean could turn the tables on you in an instant and suddenly have the upper hand again. 

“Truce,” you agreed, slowly climbing off of him and helping him stand to his feet. 

Dean kept up with your pace this time as you made your way towards the tree line, looking at the trees there. While all of them were full and beautiful, they were all a little too big up close to bring into the cabin. 

“You know, there’s a box out in the woodshop labeled Christmas Stuff, bet there’s an artificial tree out there too,” Dean said, looking towards the shed that felt like it was a thousand miles away from you in the dimming light that stretched across the snow-covered lawn. 

“You know, I bet you’re right, cause even if we get one of these bad boys cut we’d have to drag it all the way back up there,” you point out in a huff of white fog, and Dean nodded in agreement. 

“Come on, hop up on my back and I’ll carry you there,” he offered as you gave him a shocked look. “Come on don't be stubborn.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly as Dean knelt down in front of you in the snow for you to wrap your arms around his neck while his gloved hands came to your thighs, hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

It didn’t take him nearly as long as it would have taken the both of you walking to reach the woodshop, and as you slipped down from his back and turned on the light, you noticed the welding torch Dean had been using when he planned on taking the “big splash” still laying on the workbench and froze. 

Dean noticed your hesitation and followed your gaze with his own before pulling a heavy and on his shoulder. 

“Come on baby girl, let’s not dwell on the past okay? That’s not why we’re here.” 

You knew he was right, but the thought of him out in the middle of the ocean, buried in a metal coffin, trapped with Michael terrified you to this day. In fact, you still had nightmares about it even if you would never tell him that.

You let Dean guide you to the back of the shed, quickly finding boxes of decorations and Christmas lights of all sorts, and finally a tree. 

“Got it!” Dean yelled excited, producing a box marked “Christmas Tree,” and adding it to the growing pile of decorations on the ground. 

“Great, let’s get it to the cabin, I’m freezing,” you tell him. You weren’t really all that cold, but wanting to get away from this room where he’d almost literally created his sealed fate. Dean picked up on your hurry, and nodded, grabbing the boxes he could along with the Christmas tree and following you back into the warmth that awaited in the cabin. You didn’t really take a breath until you were back in its warm enclosure. 

Dean dropped his boxes on the ground, coming up and taking yours from you before slipping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight into him. 

“You okay Y/N,” he asked after you finally returned his hug, holding on to him like he might disappear in front of you if you let him go. 

“I’m fine,” you lie, but Dean saw through it, he knew you all too well, he knew that seeing that had bothered you even though you were trying to hide it. 

“Hey,” letting go of you he pulled a glove free of his hand with his teeth and placed it to the side of your face, making you look up into his astonishing green eyes. “I’m still here, and I don’t plan on going anywhere any time soon.” 

You nod and lean your head into his chest as his fingers glide their way through your hair and calm your racing heart a little. 

“Tell you what, that’s enough adventure for tonight. We can decorate tomorrow, right now I’m going to make you some Winchester Surprise for dinner and we can get drunk and prank call everyone that’s stone age enough to still have a number in the local phone book there.”

You hadn’t expected that, but the thought of Dean calling someone and asking them if their refrigerator was running had you cracking up in spite of yourself. Just like that, all the bad melted away as his lips pressed lightly to your forehead, and removed your jacket for you. Just like that, he chased away the bad memories again, leaving only a peace you had never felt until this moment in its wake. 

Sure the two of you had both been through your share of hell, in Dean’s case literally, but you had never seen it until right then how much you needed him and how you weren’t willing to live without him. He was your person, and you just wished you could be his. 

Even though the past tried to drag itself back up to haunt you, standing in the kitchen with Dean and helping him cook his favorite meal for the two of you felt so natural that you wouldn't have ended day 8 any other way. No matter what happened after Christmas was over, this memory would be your favorite of them all. Just you and Dean, being together in a rare slice of normal, what more could a hunter ask for?

Forever Tags: 

@deandreamernp​

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Jensen and Dean’s babes

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Dean’s Babes

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Series Tag list: 

@440mxs-wife​

[we-are-inevitable]

new javid au?? you bet!!

hi ok so i thought of an au. basically a stereotypical hallmark movie but make it javid. this au featuures: jack “i was raised on a farm and practice saying important conversations to my cows” kelly and david “i went to college in a big city because i’m built different” jacobs

i might eventually write this out into a fic !! soooo,,

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION:

the jacobs family lives in a small town in a southwestern state.

david jacobs is, of course, a bit of an outsider in the town. he's not interested in farming or country things, he's more into the Big Outside World and wants to study something that isn't very "traditional" for his area (i'm thinking comparative literature or journalism (with a minor in queer studies that he Does Not Talk About because Hello, Small Town!)

anyways he has a devoted friendgroup that he spends a lot of time with:

sarah (david's twin sister, who isn't afraid to get into trouble and has never been very 'ladylike'; plays softball and runs track with tony)

jack (latino farm boy with a heart of gold, a shitty father and a hidden artistic talent; basically the glue that holds the group together)

katherine (a girl who constantly feels trapped in a close-minded small town and wants to get out; also into journalism)

tony (who they call racetrack because he's an all-state cross country runner; biggest dumbass but can solve any math problem ever)

sean (he's basically a god on the football field; extremely intelligent, can play at least 6 instruments; called 'spot' bc Freckles)

charlie (Literally The Best Human Ever; student council president, National Honor Society president, also in drama)

and albert (probably a stoner but he's chill and legitimately the funniest person; troublemaker but also a literal golden retriever)

there's more of them that float between friend groups, but, of course, Davey, Sarah, Jack, Katherine, Tony, Sean, Charlie, and Albert are the "core" friends.

but. surprise: davey is the only one who goes out of state for college.

the rest split up, but stay in state. Jack goes to a trade school (he takes welding courses at the local vo-tech), Tony and Sean end up going to a community college together about 30 minutes away from home, albert goes straight into the workforce under a relative's wing, and charlie, kath, and sarah all go to a big university about 3 hours away from home.

but not davey. no, davey goes to a school in new york, just because he needs to get away from everything.

because davey goes to school on the other side of the country, he rarely gets the chance to come home. this, of course, means that he slowly drifts away from all of his high school friends- aside from sarah, obviously, because he still sees family a lot, but he doesn't talk to anyone else that often... especially jack.

now, jack and david were never a "thing," but there was always some underlying tension. longing stares, late night talks on the roof of jack's barn, hangouts at the diner in town. they were inseperable, pretty much. by far the closest friends out of the group... until jack and katherine started dating. and, yeah, david is happy for them. he's so happy for them- he jumps up and down and screams and shouts when kath and jack show up to school one day holding hands- because jack and katherine have been his closest friends for YEARS. they’re their own little subgroup- Jack, Kath, and Davey- and they go pretty much everywhere together. sometimes sarah tags along too, so david isn't third wheeling, but most of the time it's just the three of them.

but it hurts so much, because david likes jack. but jack is apparently straight. so david goes away. goes to a school across the country instead of, yknow, facing his feelings.

FAST FORWARD TO ABOUT TEN YEARS LATER!!!

david is a successful 28 year old. after graduating from college (where he ended up double majoring in english and journalism, with a minor in queer studies), he works for a publishing company and has a pretty cushy job as an editor or something, idk yet, and he's doing really, really well for himself- until one day, he gets a call from his mom, Esther, and finds out that his father is sick. sicker than he should be, really, and they're just now convincing him to get checked out.

of course, after hearing the news, David is torn. his family is from a small town, so job opportunities are hard to come by... but regardless, within a little over a week, David has moved back home to help take care of things.

pretty soon, david has a job. thanks to his background knowledge in journalism and his writing ability, he's able to score a job from Joseph Pulitzer, who runs a few newspapers in their town and others in the surrounding area. he feels like he's gotten a whole new start from the past he disliked so much, until it all comes back to bite him in the ass when he runs into Jack Kelly at the co-op. 

"Davey?"

"Wha-- Oh! Jack?"

"Good to see ya, man! What are ya doin' back?"

"I moved back a few weeks ago. Missed home, you know?"

"Just couldn't stay away, could ya?"

"Guess not."

they talk for a few minutes, but eventually have to split apart- jack has to get his feed back to the farm before his girls, aka: his cows, get angry, and davey has to get the chicken scratch back home before esther maims him. they exchange numbers, though, and promise to catch up sometime soon.

after that encounter, Jack Kelly ends up showing up a lot more often. davey sees him all the time without meaning to. in line at the grocery store, at the co-op, stopped next to him at the one stoplight in the middle of town- everywhere. they're never able to talk, though; not until one evening, davey gets a call from jack. 

at first, conversation is a bit tense- but only because it's been so long since they've talked. once the ball gets rolling, though, they're laughing and carrying on like they never stopped talking. when the conversation calms down a bit, jack asks davey if he'd like to come over.

"i'd love to, if your wife doesn't mind having a guest, of course."

"i... actually don't have a wife."

"oh-- oh, i'm sorry, i just assumed-"

"nah, it ain't nothin' to twist yourself up about. you know where i live, yeah? swing by 'round seven."

"sounds like a plan." 

and that's how davey finds out that jack owns the land that his father's farm was on. the house, though, is different- and he soon realizes that jack has completely remodeled. the porch isn't rotting anymore, and the yard is green and trimmed, and the pond out in the back yard doesn't look god-awful anymore, much to davey's delight.

dinner goes off without a hitch. everything goes right, just like old times. they swap college stories. jack tells davey about inheriting the farm and making it his own (likely to scrub every piece of his father out of his life), while davey tells jack about the big city and how different it is being home. it's nice. comfortable. familiar.

jack and davey try to meet up as often as they can after that night, which is difficult considering their schedules, but they somehow make it work. they make it really work, in fact- they have dinner twice a week (usually with some old friends), they fish together (read: jack fishes while david sits on the back of his truck and talks to him), and they even go to rodeos and football games together (to look back on they're youth, of course). 

one night, about a week before jack's 29th birthday, they meet up at the bar in town and spend hours drinking beer and whiskey and talking about life. once they make it back to jack's house, they continue talking on the couch, but talking turns into cuddling ("just for old time's sake") and cuddling turns into confessions ("i only dated those girls because i thought it would help me get over you") and confessions turn into tears ("when he found out, he kicked me out of the house") and tears turn into promises ("i loved you then, jack, and i'll love you now") and promises turn into more. 

eventually, more turns a knee on a ground and a ring on a hand. eventually, a ring on a hand turns into a wedding. eventually, a wedding turns into memories, years down the line, while sitting on an old porch swing and watching grandchildren play in the front lawn.

the end !!!!

[siorca]

Autobots set up cameras to spy on the Decepticons but they instead witness Momma Soundwave (any verse)

Anon I have no idea why you send me this prompt because I literally have not written in years, but I felt inspired. Didn’t edit, might fuck around and put a proper version on my AO3:

“What are you doing?”

Ratchet was tired, and the throb of a processor ache buzzed between his optics. His voice echoed his state, dull and unperturbed where he might have shown a level of concern on a good day. Meetings with Prowl tended to do that. Primus, did he have respect for that mech, but how frustrating it was to sway his stubborn nature on issues of medicine.

Sideswipe spared him a passing glance, returning to his task with added fever, as if completing it quickly could keep Ratchet from spoiling his fun. Ratchet had pulled rank on him for more minor infractions before. In a rare case of fortune, Ratchet had no interest in the resulting paperwork today.

Laid before him was one of the few drones that the Ark still had left, between the crash, Decepticon interference, and drunken Autobot hassling. Its simple processor was split open neatly, and Sideswipe moved between its internals with precision. In another life, Ratchet would have gladly mentored him as a junior surgeon for such a display, but knowing what he knew of him after millions of years, he could only muster a vague sort of impressed detachment.

Sunstreaker was only a few feet away, not contributing much, aside from a cool atmosphere, leaned against the wall like he was the last line of defense before a sudden collapse. While Sunstreaker rarely participated in Sideswipe’s more mischievous endeavors, he was never far behind to witness the fallout, like a specter of misfortune. A classic form of sibling bonding, in Ratchet’s experience.

He locked optics with Ratchet, raising an expectant optic ridge, the edges of a smug smile pulling at his lips. Ratchet waved at him in polite greeting.

Sideswipe let out a loud huff, hovering over his pet project protectively when he realized Ratchet wasn’t moving - mostly because a majority of the hallway had been turned into a makeshift workshop and Ratchet ached in too many places to try maneuvering around the little space left for travel.

“I’m winning a bet,” he said, oozing the brand of determined confidence that only Sideswipe was foolish enough to exude. Ratchet rubbed his optics, unimpressed, trying to keep his processor ache from spreading. Deflated, Sideswipe fiddled with his screwdriver a moment more, ducking back into his task, neatly and swiftly installing a small camera in the midst of the fissures he had created in the cranial unit.

“And what bet involves you vandalizing Autobot property?”

“He thinks the Decepticons have a pet sea monster,” Sunstreaker supplied, helpfully. “He got hooked on one of Hound’s stories about Earth creatures.”

“What?” said Sideswipe, incensed. “Just because the humans haven’t been able to get much scientific proof, doesn’t mean the Decepticons haven’t discovered something they missed. They live down there, for Primus’ sake!”

“Don’t you think they would have managed to outfit it with some sort of Cyber-tech to make our lives more difficult by now? Megatron would have at least called to brag the first deca-cycle they captured it.”

“Maybe they’re saving it for a secret mission? You never know!”

Ratchet’s shushed them, waving his hands frantically to avoid a brawl. Sunstreaker still looked unperturbed, but Sideswipe’s hackles were raised enough to hint at an inevitable pounce. Sideswipe pouted, welding the suffering drone back together with far more force than was necessary. The camera poked out of its head inelegantly, though blinking steady enough to prove that it worked.

Ratchet held onto only enough processing power to put the pieces together.“Are you...planning on breaking into the Decepticon base with that? To see if they have a sea monster?”

Ratchet was impressed, truth be told. This sort of ingenuity was something that Jazz would be interested in. It was almost a shame that Sideswipe was not cut out for Special Ops. Still, he could appreciate the craftsmanship, not to mention the sheer absurdity of going to these levels for the sake of pride. It reminded him of something Wheeljack would do, and it was only the fond thought of his conjunx that fueled his further investment.

“Yeah. Good to make sure the ‘cons aren’t planning anything.” Sunstreaker scoffed behind him. Sideswipe shot a glare over his shoulder.

“Huh,” said Ratchet. “If only you could muster this much effort on any of your assigned projects.”

Sideswipe sputtered in indignation, standing from his crouched position. He naturally towered over Ratchet, but knew better than to use his bulk for intimidation where Ratchet was involved. Sunstreaker snickered behind him. The drone, which had finished powering up, chirped, hovering around Sideswipe’s knees like an eager youngling.

Sideswipe gathered himself, brushing past

Ratchet brusquely. “Excuse me, I have a point to make,” he shot over his shoulder. The drone chirped again, matching his pace quickly. Sunstreaker peeled himself away from the wall, trailing behind him, sighing dramatically.

Ratchet looked down the empty expanse of hallway, his quarters tantalizingly close. The processor ache was starting to fade, replaced with a dangerous curiosity. “You doing this now?”

“No time better.”

“Curfew is soon.”

“So?” said Sideswipe, crossing his arms in a defensive manner.

Ratchet sighed, cursing every weak process in his body that caused him to make equally as foolish decisions as those around him. “So, it’s best to have an officer escort you. After all, said officer might be able to cover for you if you happen to be late.”

Sideswipe grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m more so interested in seeing if your monstrosity can get the job done.” Said monstrosity beeped irritatedly, as if its neglect was a personal affront to something that held no personality.

Sunstreaker groaned. “Don’t encourage him. This is only going to end badly.”

“Most likely, but what else do we have to do right now?” said Ratchet, trailing after the strange trio and out of the base.

—

The sun was just beginning to set by the time they made it to the shore, the pinks and oranges of the sky reflecting on the ocean in a dazzling kaleidoscope. In the distance, the one moon was beginning to peek through the clouds, struggling to outshine the fiery final performance of the sun. Humans found something romantic in such periods of transition. Ratchet, of a species who built their existence out of transformations, remained nonplussed.

“Mirage mentioned a security loophole near the back hull of the Nemesis a while back. Fancy words for ‘there’s a hole in it.’ Salt water makes it difficult for repairs to take, I guess.” Sideswipe placed the drone near the edge of the water, facing the general direction of where the Nemesis lay dormant. The drone did not move, ever eagerly awaiting orders.

Ratchet made a humming noise. On the other side of the beach, Sunstreaker was hassling a tiny crab that didn’t make it back to the water before low tide. It couldn’t harm him, yet it’s posturing begged to differ. If force of will could kill a mech, Sunstreaker would be in critical condition right now. Sunstreaker smiled crookedly at the creature, taking care not to accidentally step on it.

Sideswipe reached into his subspace for a datapad, tapping at it with his stylus in a rhythmic manner while he waited for it to fully boot up.

“Rigged this up.” Sideswipe waved the awakened pad, the crisp image of the sunset on full view.

“Clever,” said Ratchet. “You even sure the drone’s going to survive the water?” Most Cybertronian tech did not play well with salt water. One of the drawbacks of being born on a planet that was not intimate with the substance.

“It’s survived this long. Seems to be made of sturdier stuff than the average drone.” Sideswipe patted it good-naturedly on the shoulder.

“If you say so. Let’s get started before a ‘con patrol shows up.” Ratchet waved Sunstreaker over. He grumbled something too low to hear, moving down the beach. Once reunited, he folded his arms, cocking one hip to the side in his usual aloof stance, shooting his brother a challenging glare. Sideswipe stuck his glossa out at him in retaliation.

Sideswipe turned his attention to the datapad. He nudged the drone with his foot. It beeped, inching its way forward slowly. He nudged it again, the drone making a more affronted noise, quickening its pace.

There was a palpable tension as the drone immersed itself, the watery image of the Pacific melting into itself as the camera adjusted to its new temporary home. The image crisped the deeper it went, the shapes of small fish, scampering away from their newest visitor, becoming clearer. Sideswipe let out a whoop of excitement, the drone dutifully fulfilling its task and Sunstreaker huffed in annoyance.

“Well I’ll be slagged,” said Ratchet, placing his hands on his hips in astonishment. Autobot ingenuity was truly only at its best when petty pride was involved.

The drone traveled deeper, the pressure of the depths squeezing around the hydraulics in its lower half, slowing its momentum only slightly. The remains of the Nemesis were laid deep, near to the point where light had difficulty penetrating to the sea floor. Just enough sunlight peeked through to illuminate the remains of coral and the clinging vines of seaweed crisscrossing the outer hull. It looked monstrous in the semi-dark. If any sea monsters were lurking here, the Nemesis could certainly qualify as one with the right argument.

A large hole, poorly obscured by a large wad of algae, pocketed the side, toward the back. Small creatures hovered near it, mistaking it for a haven from the larger predators. The drone made its way through the throng, scampering up the remaining shrapnel that passed for a crude ramp into the interior. Inside, the Decepticons had managed to use some feat of engineering to stave off the water after a few feet. The result was a lagoon in the middle of what Ratchet would assume was the remains of part of the cargo bay.

Emergency lights flickered overhead, bathing the otherwise empty space in an eerie, energon-pink glow. The bay was smaller than expected, only made more obvious by the tall wall of concrete, sectioning off one side, no doubt to protect their precious mechanical stores on the other side. The drone gave a quick sweep of the area.

Sunstreaker tapped his foot impatiently. “Nothing here.”

“Yeah, yeah, we just got here,” shushed Sideswipe.

A convenient ventilation shaft lay across the room, wide enough to pass through. The drone meandered its way there, clambering inside with little effort. The tunnel was dark, but the basic night vision on the drone could make out the forward path.

“They probably have it stored somewhere where they can keep an eye on it,” said Sideswipe, matter-of-factly.

Ratchet kept a close optic on the screen, his sharp senses picking up the tell tale notes of conversation. Up ahead, a vent peaked out into a hallway, somewhere near the living quarters. Ratchet hushed them, pointing at the screen firmly. Valuable reconnaissance was important, regardless if sea monsters were involved or not.

Sideswipe commandeered the drone toward the vent, tilting the datapad to encourage the drone to look through the grates. It pressed up against them firmly. Even distorted, the distinct, blocky shape of Soundwave was hard to mistake, two smaller bodies with him that could only be his own pair of twins.

One brother was cradled in his arms with a painful looking dent in his right cheek. A sour frown marred his face while his body sagged in an overdramatic sprawl over Soundwave’s arm. The other had his arms crossed over his chest, his visible forearm sporting a nasty scratch, petulant scowl twisting his features.

“You must mind your strength, Rumble. You nearly cracked Frenzy’s optic,” chastised Soundwave, gentle and firm in only the way a creator could manage. There weren’t many of those left, between the two armies, and it only made it extra bizarre to hear such a rare tone from Soundwave, of all mechs.

It was obvious that the drone had stumbled upon some sort of familiar conflict. Perhaps not imperative to the war effort, but tantalizing all the same.

“Should they be doing this out in the hallway?” said Sideswipe, absentmindedly.

Sunstreaker shrugged. “Maybe it’s a Decepticon thing.”

On the feed, a loud huff came from Rumble. “Well, he started it!”

“And yet I have told both of you multiple times to stop rough-housing.”

“Soundwave, I’m fine,” piped up Frenzy, drooping further down Soundwave’s hip. He seemed to be trying to turn himself into pure liquid in order to escape his creator’s arms. Soundwave only tightened his hold.

“That is not the point. You will seriously hurt each other one day. Last week, you nearly blew out Rumble’s audials. What will it be next time?” Soundwave’s words must have struck a nerve. Frenzy had the decency to look bashful, pausing in his squirming. Rumble simply pursed his lips.

“Both of you must be more careful until you have better control of your sigma abilities.” Soundwave finally freed Frenzy from his makeshift prison, who promptly scampered to his brother’s side.

Soundwave’s concern was familiar to Ratchet, echoing a time long ago when creators used to bring their Outlier sparklings to his Dead End clinic. Those whose abilities were extreme enough to affect their health or those around them and the rarer cases of those that thought he might be able to help control their abilities.

He empathized with him. Soundwave himself was an infamously powerful telepath, and it was only logical that his creations would inherit some sort of power. The proof was in their terror on the battlefield, the few times that they had participated in the more small scale scuffles. He had nearly forgotten how this would reflect in what would pass for home these days.

Soundwave sighed, for the moment deflated. “Go to Hook. He owes me a favor. Make sure to behave yourselves.” The twins nodded, for now behaving themselves as they made their way down the opposite side of the hallway. Soundwave, himself walked a few doors down, assuredly to his own quarters.

Sideswipe pulled the drone away from the grate. “Give them a few days, they’ll be right back to trying to kill each other.”

Sunstreaker grinned. “Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a round 2 before they hit the medbay.”

Ratchet barked a laugh. “Probably.”

“Now to find that sea monster.”