#like one truck overtaking one other is annoying but fine whatever but it takes a bit

[gaymelie]

This isnt relevant often but ill relay what a friend who drives trucks told me.

If youre on a bike or similar lightweight thing and a truck who is fast enough passes you by too close you can just get sucked under it. So if youre cycling in a place where there might be trucks going fast keep a good amount of distance and be prepared for sudden wind pulling on you.

A PSA about trucks from a truck driver

I and some colleagues were talking about how we wish everyone could see the safety videos that our company was showing us, because I don’t think most people understand how traffic works in a truck. So here’s some things we wish everyone on the road knew.

- we’re not kidding about tailgating. If you’re right behind us on a straight highway? Chances are we have NO IDEA you’re there, which means we can’t anticipate any of your movements. Plus slowing down takes multiple downshifts, so we might start decreasing speed way earlier than you expect.

- We’re not kidding about any of our blind spots. WE CAN’T SEE YOU, GUYS.

- That bit about slowing down taking a while? The same goes for when you’re in front of us. Don’t cut off a truck. Oh god, PLEASE don’t cut off a truck. If you cut me off, I’m not irritated, I’m terrified. For YOU. It can take 7 to 9 seconds for us to stop. DON’T CUT OFF TRUCKS.

- Before you get mad about how slow we’re going on the highway, keep in mind that many companies govern their vehicles so they literally CAN’T go over 60 or 65. This is a good thing, I promise. Because…

- Do you know what happens when a car meets a truck in an accident? The car gets totaled and the truck needs a new coat of paint. You will not win this fight. I know nobody likes getting stuck behind a big dumb truck, but it’s not worth your life.

We are trying our best to protect you from our 80,000 pound death machines. Please help us out.

[ffakc]

The Weather Outside is Frightful - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

@negans-attagirl @jdmbbycakes @iluvneganandjamie

“For Rhinebeck, we’re looking at up to five inches per hour! Make sure you’ve got your milk and bread, folks, it’s going to be a doozy!” the weather man proclaimed. My husband changes the channel to our favorite trashy reality TV channel.

“I’d like to get five inches per hour,” I mutter for myself with a smirk and snuggle up under a fuzzy blanket.

“What did you just say?” Jeff laughs.

“Oh, nothing,” I sigh. Jeff is still giggling to himself. My silver fox leans over and growls in my ear.

“If you wanted to have sex, all you had to do was say so,” he kisses my neck with an obnoxious “MWAH!” sound.

“You’re so damn cute,” I try my best to climb onto my husband’s lap.

“How are you so hot even in your jammies, baby girl?” I grab his cheeks and kiss him.

“I don’t feel very hot,” I gesture to my VERY pregnant belly. Jeffrey scoffs.

“Nonsense! You’re carrying OUR child, that’s the most badass thing a lady can do!” he kisses my lips sweetly as he rubs the taut skin, “I love my girls.”

“We love you too, Daddy,” I smile and rock my hips against Jeff’s thigh. I moan with delight.

“Think about it this way, you’re rearranging your organs to bring a life into this world! How cool is that?”

“Jeff, that’s gross,” I laugh.

“I guess you’re right,” he chuckles. “So, what do my gals want for dinner, hm?”

“If I had my way, Pizza Hut stuffed crust. I’ve been craving that for a good week now. But I’m not about to make a delivery driver trek through this,” I climb off my man’s lap and rub his knee.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got a massive four wheel drive. Do you want pizza? I’ll get you pizza,” Jeff smiles, standing up off the couch.

“Yes please, Daddy. You’re so sweet.” I pull up the website on my phone, “What do you want?” I run my fingers over my stomach, which is now growling.

“You know I’m not picky,” Jeff grabs his keys and uses his remote start to warm his beast of a truck.

“Extra red onions, black olives, and sausage then,” I reply, Jeff hands me his card and kisses my forehead. “Ooh, and maybe a syrupy sweet fountain Pepsi?”

“You better be suckin’ on a breath mint then before you get near these lips! Also, Pepsi? Really? Oh, you better be fuckin’ messing with me.” I rest my sore feet on the ottoman and nod as Jeff pets my hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll get you horse piss.” I laugh. That man is hopelessly addicted to his Coca Cola. “Anything else while I’m out?”

“Maybe a pregnancy test? I’ve been feeling weird lately,” I joke.

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” Jeff rolls his eyes with a grin and pulls on his flannel jacket, placing an unlit cigarette between his lips.

“Drive safe! I love you,” I blow him a kiss.

“I love you too, baby girl.”

***

“That’s your Daddy,” I trace my fingers over my belly, watching a rerun of Grey’s Anatomy that happened to be on. “He’s already wrapped around your little finger and he hasn’t even seen you in person yet,” I giggle. “We are so excited to meet you, baby girl.”

“Dinner is served, darlin’!” Jeff calls out and sets the pizza on the counter. I sit myself up a little straighter. Little flutters ripple across my abdomen.

“Jeff! Babe, come here!” I gesture to my stomach.

“Watching Daddy, hm? Wow, I miss my dark hair,” Jeff laughs and gets to his knees on the floor in front of the couch. I place his hand on my stomach and gently press my hand on top of his.

“Do you feel that? As soon as she heard your voice, she started moving.” Jeff gasps as a wide smile crosses his lips.

“I’m so in love with her already,” he kisses the little lumps where I assume a hand or a foot poked through. “That’s my daughter, my fucking daughter. It’s still so surreal to say. I’ve wanted a little girl for God knows how long,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, “I’ve loved you since the moment Mama said she was pregnant with you. Don’t you break your daddy’s heart, sweet pea.”

“I can’t imagine bringing a child into this world with anyone else,” I reply and kiss my husband deeply. “Alright, I suppose I should get up!” I grab Jeff’s outstretched hand and he pulls me off the couch. I place my pizza on a paper plate. Jeff looks me up and down.

“Look how fucking cute you are, doll. Daddy loves giving his gal what she wants,” my husband remarks and kisses my cheek. I sink my teeth into the greasy pizza and moan with delight. “Is it everything you hoped it would be?”

“God, yes. The grease makes my soul happy,” I laugh. Jeff sits on the barstool at the kitchen counter.

“So, umm, yeah,” my husband clears his throat. “Usually I couldn’t give two shits what people say on social media, but...” Jeff heaves a heavy sigh. “I was scrolling through Twitter while waiting for pizza and I saw a few comments here and there about how I’m too old for this,” he places a hand on my stomach.

“That’s stupid,” I roll my eyes.

“They say I’m too old for you too,” he grabs his phone and adjusts his bifcocals, “‘Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s going to be 72 when that kid graduates and his sugar baby’s going to be 42. You ever think about how weird that is? Ew. Poor kid.’ I keep telling myself it do-“ a single tear falls down his face as he places his phone back on the counter.

“It doesn’t matter, Jeffrey,” I cup his cheek my hand and kiss him. “Aww, baby, come here,” I hold his head against my chest. “You already cherish this baby with every ounce of love you have and that’s literally all our girl could ask for, is a Mommy and Daddy who want nothing more than to love her with all their hearts. Age is but a number, sweetheart. My dad was older when he had us kids and it didn’t affect his parenting one single bit. Also, calling me a sugar baby when anyone who follows me on any social media platform knows I never shut the fuck up about how much I love my husband.” Jeff laughs to himself. “I’d have to be in REALLY deep with the sugar baby thing if I let my sugar daddy put a living, breathing child inside me.”

“Yeah, you are absolutely right,” Jeff sniffles and kisses me. “They can call me ‘old’ all the live long day, but coming for my incredible wife and unborn child? I don’t take too kindly to that. That hurts. I swear, I think your pregnancy hormones are affecting me too,” he teases and flicks his tears away.

“I don’t blame you! That shit is rude and uncalled for!” I exclaim and take a bite of pizza. “Sorry, I got distracted,” I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “What can I say? I’m eating for two.”

“You are indeed,” Jeff smiles, he murmurs something to himself and gives my backside a squeeze. He nibbles his pizza.

“What’s that, Daddy?” I look up at him with innocent eyes and take a long sip of my drink.

“I said, ‘that ass’,” You’ve gotten so curvy, baby. Pregnancy looks real good on you. Who gave you the right to be so damn sexy?” I wiggle my hips as wetness pools between my thighs. “You’re lucky I don’t just shove this pizza off the counter and fuck you right here.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I smirk. I pull down my top slightly, revealing my overgrown and engorged breasts.

“Baby doll,” Jeff whines. I run my fingers over the zipper of his jeans, earning a moan from my gorgeous older man. He places one veiny, strong hand on my hip and the other in my hair as he kisses me deeply. His hand travels to my belly as his breath shudders against my lips.

“I love these new curves,” Jeff groans. “Why does this big, round pregnant belly turn me on so much?”

“Because you know it means you bred me so good?” I suggest, squeezing my breasts together. “Making my tits bigger, making my hips wider.”

“God yes. What can I do to make my gal feel good tonight?”

“Well, I’ve had another craving that isn’t pizza,” I trail my fingers down his chest, “A hot, steamy shower with my hands in your hair and your mouth on my needy, wet pussy. Oh Daddy, I need you.”

“Oh my,” Jeff clicks his tongue, his face flushing slightly, “You know how much I love devouring that sweet pussy. I could do that all day, every day if you’d let me.”

“I’d let you!” I pipe up, and Jeff laughs, dunking his crust in pizza sauce. “Just don’t put any pepper flakes on your pizza,” I wink and Jeff laughs even harder.

“Good lord, you really think I’d do that to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe! Now, let’s finish dinner, dessert is waiting for you,” I rub my husband’s shoulders and he lets out a satisfied groan. I throw my plate in the trash, “I’ll meet you in the shower,” I whisper against his ear. Jeff shoves the rest of his food in his mouth and chases after me. I crank the shower up as hot as it can go, Jeff grabs me by the waist from behind and rubs against me as he kisses my neck. I can feel how hard he is in his fitted jeans. I slip out of my clothes and my husband does the same, his cock throbbing as he slides out of his underwear.

“Look at what you do to me,” Jeff gestures downward.

“Oops,” I step under the water. I brush two fingers over my clit and whimper, then offer them to Jeff. He sucks them seductively. “Look what you do to ME.”

“Fuck girl, you taste so sweet,” his hands rest on my pregnant belly as I wrap my arms around his neck as we kiss.

“I need to sit down,” I remark and bite my lip. I sit back on the shower bench.

“That’s my good girl. You sit back and relax, pull my hair, and let Daddy enjoy himself. Don’t you move a muscle, let me do all the work, sweetheart,” Jeff ghosts his hot breath against me, smirking up at me. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He lets out a low growl of pleasure.

“You tease,” I whine, “Please Daddy, please. I need it, Jeffrey.” Jeff buries his face in what’s his. The water falls softly against his tanned skin.

“You taste so damn GOOD, girl,” Jeff rasps. A little bit of Negan slipped out with that statement. He breathes heavily as his mouth overtakes my most sensitive parts. His fingers curl inside me. My whole body jerks.

“Jeff! Oh my god!” I gasp. My silver fox groans loudly.

“Oh Princess, I want to make you scream. I want you to make an absolute fucking mess on my face,” he spreads my legs as far as my exhausted body can go and circles my throbbing clit with his ever-flickering tongue. God, what a talented tongue my gorgeous husband has.

“Jeffrey! Jeffrey, oh fuck! I’m so close, baby. Please, baby. Please, I need you so damn bad,” I plead, grasping onto his graying locks. He sucks gently as if I’m his favorite lollipop and smirks up at me. “FUCK!” I cry out, “JEFF! OH MY FUCKING GOD!” I can’t hold back, profanity and filthy, wet mouth sounds fill the air. My orgasm hits me like a powerful earthquake, a tidal wave of pure ecstasy. As if a surge of lightning coursed through my entire body. Jeff pants, planting soft kisses on my inner thighs. I stroke his hair as he kisses me passionately, my legs still trembling.

“Was is it as good for you as it was for me?” Jeff smiles.

“Oh god, better than I could have ever imagined, Daddy. I love you so damn much,” I breathe heavily.

“I love you more than anything. You make me the luckiest, Mrs. Morgan.”

[detectivecarlosreyes]

Evan Week - 7 Days of loving Buck 

(Beginning) (Previous Day) 

Day 7: Free Day 

10 reasons why we love Evan Buckley. (bear with me on this one, it kind of got away from me a bit)

“Hey Cap, have you heard from Buck? Is he working today?”

The last anyone had heard from him was two days ago when they had their last shift before having two days off. Their last call was a rough one; more so for Buck than anyone. He had been trapped with a young teenager who was heavily injured when the house collapsed around her. Buck was the only one to make it to her before the building became unstable and sealed off any entry points before anyone else could join them.

There was some kind of interference messing with their radios, so they weren’t entirely sure what happened in that period of radio silence, all they knew was that it was bad. By the time they had cleared a path to them, it was too late. They found Buck completely distraught with tears streaming down his face while covered in blood, cradling her body as he rocked back and forth.

By the time they were back in the ladder truck, Buck had all but shut down. His pain was palpable as he stared down at his bloodied hands while they drove back to the firehouse and no matter what they said he barely reacted. Their shift had ended by the time they were back at the station and Buck had vanished as soon as he had put his gear away.

Bobby shrugged his shoulders, “He said he was coming in.”

It wasn’t just that he disappeared from work without a word of farewell to anyone, but he also stopped answering his phone. Hen and Bobby had even stopped by his apartment the following day to check up on him, much like what they did for Bobby after the plane crash.

Buck wasn’t home. His bed was made, his work bag left by the door and his truck was still parked at the apartment, he simply dropped off the face of the earth. They were all beyond worried for him, Maddie especially - knowing that this wasn’t the first time something this had happened, she just wasn’t sure what he’d be like when he returned. The only text he answered in that time was one from Bobby saying he’ll see him at work, so at the very least they knew he was still alive.

As if saying his name had caused him to appear, Eddie spots Buck walking slowly between the trucks to the locker room. He quietly gestures to the others who were in the kitchen and they all move to rail to watch him. He looked haggard and withdrawn to say the least; his hair wasn’t smoothed back in its usual fashion, a shadow of a beard was developing and even from this distance they could see the dark circles under his eyes as if he didn’t sleep a wink, which was probably true.

Hen looks to the others worry clear on her face, “Guys, I think I have an idea that might help him.” After telling them her plan, they were all quick to get on board.

Buck was tired. Exhausted, actually. Every time he closed his eyes, he was back with Mia. He did what he could to keep her awake, to keep her alive but it was already a losing battle by the time he made it to her in the first place. Massive blood loss was the cause of death. And all he could do was talk to her until her dying breath.

He’s sure the reason he was so affected by her passing was the fact that she was so young, only sixteen years old and already wise beyond her years. She knew she was dying by the time he found her, and it was something that she had accepted. Instead of panicking, she told him all about her family and how much she loved them. As he held his hands against the gaping wound in her side, Buck promised her that he’d tell them.

She was quiet for a bit and must have read him like a book after something in his troubled face, of how much this was going to weigh on him because with the last of her strength she placed a hand over his and says her last words. “Don’t let my death…be the cause of your suffering…don’t forget…the reason…why you do this job.” She passed away beneath his hands only a few moments after that. He promised her he would, even if she couldn’t hear it.

In the time after while he waited for the others, he lets himself fall apart and mourn her passing. On the trip back to the station he resolutely plans to fulfill both his promises to Mia, something that he knew he had to do alone--

Buck is brought back to the present by a hand on his shoulder. It’s Bobby, he leans against his locker trying to appear nonchalant, but Buck can see the concern in his eyes.

“You doing okay? We haven’t heard from you in a while.”

He shrugs and looks away, “I’m fine.”

“Buck…” He hears the warning in Bobby’s tone and quickly backpedals, “Okay, I’m not fine per se, but I will be, I just-I just need to be working instead of wallowing in my thoughts.”

“Alright. That’s all I needed to know.” Bobby moves closer and lightly ruffles his hair before moving to the door, “Just so you know, we’re all here for you, don’t be afraid to lean on us.”

Buck sniffs, and nods his head still looking at the floor, “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Cap.”

“Okay then. Breakfast is on that table if you want any.” And then he’d gone.

Buck peers up at his locker and frowns, there’s a sticky note that wasn’t there a moment ago.

10 reasons why we love Evan Buckley.

1.       He’s a true firefighter in and out of the uniform.

His brow knits in puzzlement as he looks out past the glass door, knowing that Bobby was the one who put it on his locker. He appreciates the sentiment, understanding what they’re trying to do without smothering him. However, he keeps to himself during their shift, still not entirely willing to be around the other and their concerned looks and questioning eyes just because of a sticky note.

Over the rest of the shift, he continues to find the rest of the series, hidden and not so hidden throughout the firehouse. And he’d be lying if said it didn’t help make getting through the day easier.

The next note he finds was trapped between the pages of the stocktake checklist – one of his set jobs for the day. Buck smiles down at it, somewhat pleased that he wasn’t just annoying them all with those little factoids, regardless of childish complaints that were made.

Reason #2 – We love that he teaches us something everyday with fun facts from whatever he’s been researching.

The third one was attached to his helmet and he had to quickly slide it into a pocket for safekeeping before getting a chance to read it. It was a grueling call but luckily everyone made it out safely.

Buck almost forgot about the little note trapped in his pocket and only remembered when he stuffed his hands in his pockets, doing his best not to let his emotions get the best of him. He’s not ashamed to say a little tear managed to break through his mask.

3. We love that he’s selfless and would do anything to help another person

The next one he finds follows closely after reading the third. Buck was in desperate need of a pick-me-up after that last call and coffee would definitely help him with that. The sticky note was attached to his mug.

Number 4 – Even if he doesn’t realise it, he’s amazing around kids.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he prepares the coffee. Almost every time there’s a job that involves young children, he is almost always the one requested to keep them occupied and calm. Not that he’s complaining cause as he said to Eddie when they first met, he loves kids.

5. He’s still a badass under pressure.

Buck chuckles at this one, knowing exactly who came up with it. It was found stuck to his phone after he’d taken a quick nap on the couch. He goes down to his locker to add it to his collection only to find the sixth one resting on top of his gym bag.

6. He would protect anyone he considers family (or anyone else for that matter)

He actually barks out a short laugh in amusement. Yeah, many a time has he been scolded for recklessly protecting someone else and endangering himself in the process.

The seventh note was on the gym equipment, specifically, the punching bag and Buck can’t help but shake his head at the symbolism of it.

#7 – He’s a fighter and always survives whatever life throws at him.

Buck doesn’t see any more notes for a while after that. Admittedly his mood had significantly improved throughout the day and he was more willing to hang out with the others during the shift, at least until a wave of sadness rolls over him and he has to take some time to recollect himself.

The next note he finds is one of those times as it unexpectedly hits him differently from the other, bringing Mia to the forefront of his thoughts. He can’t help but choke back tears as he reads it.

8. We love his innate ability to make a connection with anyone he meets.

It was a little too on the nose from their last shift than the team could have realised. He did not anticipate feeling as closely connected to that young girl in the short time that he knew her. And yet he knows that she’ll always be one of the ones he’ll always remember.

The others must have sensed the change in his mood because the second to last note almost immediately followed the previous one.

Number 9 – He has the biggest heart out of all of us.

He snorts, yeah ain’t that truth. Although he’s pretty sure Hen could give him a run for his money.

Buck finds the last sticky note back where it all began, stuck to his locker at the end of their shift. He feels the team’s presence around him as he reads it and he turns to face them. Each of them were sporting matching grins, an aura of infectious energy surrounding them and Buck can’t help but let it overtake him and returns a wide smile of his own.

He gestures towards them and they all file into the small room, circling him into a big group hug. He feels a sense of peace flow through him at the comfort that they all bring. Yeah, it’ll take him some time to feel alright again, but at least he knows that his family has his back.

10. And most of all we love Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley just for being him.

@evanbuckleyweek

[jojotier]

Leviathan, the girl

Darkness seeped into the car from all sides. It slowly spilled over the bright red sides of her currently open-roofed Cadillac, diving in while the streetlights on either side of the road, few and far between as they were, petered out one by one.  

It was a dark night. Not by any means stormy, and not by any means unnavigable, but dark enough for her to suspect that the stuttering of her headlights were coming from more than the age of this old car of hers. Gripping the steering wheel just a bit tighter in one hand, Bea Winters took one last drag of her cigarette before glaring at the rearview mirror.

“Hey, cut that shit out. I can’t get to this place if you aren’t gonna let me see.”

A sharp trill trickled from the backseat, stuttering every other note- almost like laughter, mixed with an alarm clock. Annoying as hell, was what it was, but she bit her tongue on the statement. The neon tendrils slipping around the driver’s seat to poke at Bea’s neck were a nuisance at most. At best, she’d just gotten used to them. In any case, they’d heard all the complaints before, and they really didn’t seem to care about what she had to say about their miscellaneous sounds. She didn’t want to deal with this thing’s approximation of a lecture right now. Didn’t have the patience for it.

At her request, though, the creature in the back seat let up on whatever influence it had on the lights. High beams spilled back out onto the road, illuminating an old dirt path that saw enough use to keep the plants from the nearby woods from overtaking it. She flicked some of the ash from her cigarette out the window, eyes sweeping over the scene in front of her. The streetlamps stopped sometime behind her, leaving the light from the crescent moon shining through the slowly thinning trees. Against the backdrop of the calm, clear night, the hulking form of a mansion rose.

Rumors had it that a witch lived up there. Bea didn’t really have it in her mind that spells or charms did much beyond a cursory, temporary fix, but she’d also learned not to take what she thought she knew for granted. The internet wasn’t exactly the best source- and she’d bite her left pinky off before she gave in and asked the thing in the back seat for their supposed ‘celestial knowledge’.

The only real guarantee of safety she had was that the five-six-seven faced monstrosity clinging to her didn’t want a dead acolyte.

A little ways from the mansion, the headlights flickered. They gave out after the seventh time and the engine sputtered to nothing. The car rolled to a stop and left her stranded there with nothing to light the way except for the fluttering lanternlight emanating from the porch.

Three short flashes, then three long, then three short again. S.O.S.

The chittering laugh echoed a little louder behind her, joined with the wet smacking of lips in some imitation of clapping. Bea glared at it again from the rear view mirror but it just kept going, highlighter yellow spears of teeth opening up and snapping shut. Sighing, she reached for her duffel bag and an old metal baseball bat she brought along with her. It’d taken way too long for her to convince the thing currently giggling at her not to stuff it up with any weird monster mojo, but like hell was she leaving it behind.

The crisp air filled the woods with a distinct nothing, punctuated only by the weak stuttering and re-murmuring of her car’s engine as it tried to move. Now that she was outside the car, she saw what was going on- millions of fine, glowing threads stuck to the tires, webbing along the side of the car until it reached the mane of coarse hair attached to several of the creature’s dozen or so mouths. Just her luck- it didn’t look like she was leaving until she figured out what her own personal shit creature wanted.

Letting out a slow breath, Bea turned her back on the car and made her way towards the mansion. The closer she got, the more twisted the architecture of the place was- some kind of style that wasn’t Gothic in the way churches were, but somewhat ornate and full of cracked statues hugging the edge of the roof. It almost made her wish she’d paid more attention to that art history class she took back in high school, sans the fact that she couldn��t stand history. As she left the manic pixie laughter behind her, the only thing she had to guide her was the constantly flashing lantern and the shadows on the wall.

Bea stopped short when one of the large wooden doors slowly creaked open, brass hinges squealing against the weight. There was nothing visible past the crack- no sign of an entranceway or front hall- until a sandy tan hand reached out from the gap. It stooped low to the ground with a plastic pink cup, jolting it slightly for a spider to scuttle out. Instinctively gripping the bat closer to herself, Bea took a step back, trying to move away from the faint circle of lantern light. She waited for a moment, watching the hand retreat back into the darkness.

It probably would have paid to bide her time. She took another step back- not to retreat, but to get her from sight- maybe she should look for another way in, she thought idly- when her foot cracked a twig. Swallowing down a heavy breath, she looked back towards the front door, now opening wide.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Someone stepped outside, barefoot and not all too phased. She was tall and slightly too long-limbed for her own body, with knotted black hair falling over her broad shoulders. Bea was almost surprised by how normal she looked, even while wearing that old-fashioned blue nightgown, with all its lace and embroidered pink flowers. She guessed she was expecting something more… viscerally horrifying? More like something from Lovecraft’s less racist nightmares mixed with ecstasy. Or maybe that was just Bea projecting a little too much.

The stranger looked around, dark eyes lit up by the porchlight. Bea was left with a choice- she could take the safer route, break and enter, and then try to discover the secrets of the house without having any way out or any knowledge of what was going on; or she could take a chance, ask the proprietess to use her phone for a tow truck, and get the hell out of dodge while keeping it secret that her car was inoperable due to cosmic forces being a heavenly thorn in her side. Bea took the latter option.

“Over here,” She said, flicking her cigarette on the ground and crushing it underfoot as she stepped forward. If nothing else, she might be able to brute force her way out of trouble. The owner or servant or whoever this was seemed meek enough to not expect a good crack on the skull if worse came to worst.

The other woman blinked at her for a moment, seemingly taken aback. There were a few seconds of awkward silence as they both just looked at each other. The eerie atmosphere waned the more Bea was stared at, making her put off, for the most part- she was pretty sure she just went and trespassed on some hermit’s inherited land or something. And for what? To get some more annoying than average tentacles out her ears? In hindsight, that was probably the shittiest reason. Coughing slightly, Bea started, “My car just broke down not far from-”

The stranger wasn’t listening. Instead, she let out an utterly bewildered, “You’re not dead. You’re... a living person.”

“... Excuse me.” Bea could only think to say because that was…. Not a normal reaction.

[secretsolenoid]

Fic gift for Emily from Wiinterking

gift for @queenflara

Hi Emily! Sorry your gift is a little late (I’ve been working a lot rip). Wrecker crew holiday shenanigans, as per request c:

—

The sky glowed an eerie yellow color, bathing the already depressingly brown landscape outside Jasper, Nevada, in an ugly light. The sky was heavily shrouded by thick clouds, and it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. For all Bulkhead knew, he had been driving down the old paved road through the desert for years. Everything felt liminal in this atmosphere.

It reminded him a bit of the way things were on Cybertron just before an acid storm. He quelled the uneasiness that thought brought up quickly; the only thing that precipitated on Earth was water. It was annoying if you stood in it too long, but otherwise it was harmless.

“No, I don’t need a ride home.” Miko was yammering away into her little pink cellphone. She had been going back and forth with her host parents for the entire ride from Jasper. “You’ve seen the big green truck my uh, friends have! We’re totally fine.”

It was late December, and it had been snowing lightly for a week or two now. Snow plows worked tirelessly in the town of Jasper proper; out here on the back roads they only scraped the road at dawn and dusk. Not that it mattered; Bulkhead was much heavier than an average car, after all, so the ice on the pavement wasn’t much of an issue for him. Nevertheless, he had taken extra care to make sure Miko buckled up- he could survive rolling off the road, but she might not if she got tossed about in his cab.

“Ten?” She was saying now, clearly offended by the number. Bulkhead rolled on silently. “That’s so early! We’re not even in school right now! What about like, 12?”

“Ten.” Bulkhead whispered through his speakers.

Miko heaved a sigh as dramatic as any he had ever seen, but after a few moments she relented. “Fine.” She said glumly. “I’ll be home by ten-thirty. Yeah. Okay. Bye!” Her phone flipped shut with a tinny clack and a jingle from her phone charm.

Bulkhead had never met her host parents, obviously, but he respected their patience.

“So!” Miko folded her arms behind her head, and surveyed the landscape rolling by outside Bulkhead’s window. “We got a whole day to do whatever we want, big guy!”

“I recorded the last Slash Monkey concert they aired on TV?” He offered.

“Nice.”

It wasn’t much longer before they reached the base, Miko chattering away at him the whole time. It finally started to snow again as they rolled up on the secret entrance; privately, Bulkhead hoped it wouldn’t pile up too much before he had to take Miko home that night. He could make it in whatever weather this planet could throw at him, sure, but that didn’t mean he wanted to have to slog through several inches of frozen water. And the road salt. Ugh.

Arcee greeted them as they pulled in. None of the other bots were anywhere to be seen- most likely on patrol or escaping the coldness of winter inside their private quarters.

“Ar-cee!” Miko sang as she hopped out of Bulkhead’s cab. “How’s it hanging?”

“Hey, Miko.” Arcee greeted, looking a little distracted. “Happy, uh- I forget what it’s called.”

“Christmas.” Miko supplied, removing a cardboard box from Bulkhead’s back seat. She stumbled a bit under its weight before she rebalanced it in her arms. “And Christmas is tomorrow, but my host family wants me to stay home and do holiday stuff with them all day. Snore.”

Bulkhead transformed and watched his human charge stumble across the base’s floor with passive interest. She dropped it next to the couch and immediately started rummaging through it.

“I guess Jack and Raf won’t be back free for another couple of days, then?” Arcee asked.

“Nope. Jack’s grandparents are still in town, and Raf is in like, Arizona or something.” Miko waved her hand in dismissal, before pulling out the bucket of fried chicken she had demanded Bulkhead take her to a drivethru for.

Arcee, who seemed more bewildered with each thing the human pulled out of the box, shook her head. “I’ll let you to have at it, I’m going on patrol.”

Miko immediately stopped unpacking to turn her sad puppy-dog eyes on the motorcycle. “What? You’re not leaving, are you? We have holiday fun times planned!”

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Arcee reassured her quickly. “You’ll be here all day, right? I’ll hang out in a bit.”

Grumpily, Miko turned back to her box. “Fine. But don’t go running off!”

“I won’t.” Arcee said. She turned towards the tunnel, but gave Bulkhead a knowing look before she transformed. “Try not to have too much fun without me.” She muttered.

Bulkhead grimaced at her in response, and a moment later she was roaring off down the tunnel out of the base. Bulkhead exvented softly. As high-energy as Miko could be, he had never (necessarily) led him astray when it came to Earth culture before. After all, rock bands and monster truck rallies had been right up his alley- and if Miko wanted to celebrate an Earth holiday with him, how bad could it be?

“Now, we don’t really do a whole lotta Christmas stuff in Japan,” She was saying, and Bulkhead clomped across the room to peak over her shoulder. “But I got the basics down. Plus, Americans go crazy for this holiday, so it’s easy enough to get what you need.”

She spun on her heel, and held up a string of lights that Bulkhead had seen decorating several buildings in Jasper this last month. “The first part of Christmas is decorating.”

In theory, this didn’t sound so bad, but Bulkhead quickly realized that Miko wasn’t stringing the lights up around the bunker- she was advancing towards him, with the lights outstretched in her arms and a mischievous glint in her eye. He had only taken a single wary step backwards when the sound of the elevator from the roof of the base reached him.

“Wait!” He cried, a little more nervously than he intended. He cleared his vocalizer with a short cough. “I think my present for you is here.”

Miko stopped in her tracks, a look of shock coloring her features for a moment before it stretched into pure joy. “You got me a present? What did you get me? Do Autobots even have money?”

“We don’t.” Bulkhead regrettably informed her. There had been some sweet stuff online that he had wanted but- no. Best not to dwell. “But you’re easy to shop for.”

Miko looked like she might protest at the notion that she was easy to read, but at that moment her present walked through the door, holding a gift of his own.

“Surprise.” Wheeljack threw his arms out to his sides dramatically.

“Wheeljack!” Miko cried, jumping off the couch to run to him. “Oh my gosh! Bulkhead, you got me Wheeljack for Christmas?”

“You’re welcome.” Bulkhead said smugly, pleased with the human’s reaction. He wasn’t really into whatever holiday traditions humans had- and they had a lot of them- but when Raf had explained the gift-giving part of Christmas, he knew he had to call in his Wrecker bud. He figured he couldn’t buy anything that would make Miko happier than that- and it seemed he had been right.

“Good to see you, kid. I got you a- get off my ankle, thanks- I got you a present too.” He lowered the box to her level, and she snatched it greedily in her excitement.

“What is it?”

“Just open it.”

She did as she was bade, taking a moment to figure out how to unlatch the oddly made Cybertronian box. When she finally got it open, Bulkhead furrowed his brow ridges at what he saw inside.

“A sword!”

“Jackie…” Bulkhead warned, but it was obviously too late- he couldn’t bear to take the thing away from her now that she had seen it.

“Merry Christmas.” He told Miko gleefully as she began to swing the sword around her head. “And what? She can handle it.”

“Humans are more fragile than us, Jackie.” Bulkhead said, lowering his voice so Miko couldn’t hear him over the sound of the schwing noise she was making as she sliced experimentally through the air. “She could… cut herself or something.”

“Well, that’ll be an important life lesson, then.”

Bulkhead sighed.

They watched Miko do some exaggerated moves with her new sword- which was, to Bulkhead’s chagrin, fully functional- and Wheeljack promised to show her how to use it properly. This went on for a few minutes before she suddenly froze mid-swing.

“Wait!” She cried. She set her sword down in its box carefully and jogged back over to the box of supplies she had brought with her, and dragged out one of the strings of lights. Bulkhead felt his energon pump sink a little bit. “I’m forgetting the most important part of Christmas! Decorating.”

“What are we decorating?” Wheeljack asked.

His question was met with silence. Miko grinned at him, holding the string of lights out in front of her, and glanced at Bulkhead. Wheeljack glanced between them a few times before something seemed to click for him, a smirk overtaking his face.

“You know.” Bulkhead said, no longer bothering to fight Miko’s whims. “I think this is the last human holiday I’m going to celebrate.”