#so i might settle for a diff one and draw the wanted one (by me) later off stream

[moeblob]

I enjoyed the Heroes request thank you anon o7

And also I have decided not only will Haley take pics of the cosplay, she makes it because if she doesn't, who will. Gotta be the change you wanna see in the world. (Alex just there for moral support)

[tatsumi-harem-chronicles]

tw: misgendering

[replying to prev post that said: “another feat it so that momame actually doesnt let himeru meet kaname aft first breach of The Doorway, and instead takes the time to have tea and snacks w the kid whenever it comes for a while, picking at its brain and trying to figure out what its life is like. eventually she asks it abt its plans for the future and it admits it doesnt know what to do and spills all its fears and insecurities onto the woman it knows wouldnt judge it for them. thats when momame decides to let it meet kaname”] so what if the pov refers to himeru as he/him UNTIL this convo happens (probs after he starts properly visiting the house to "help with homework" and "do some chores" and other 'totally don't live here' things) and himeru shares how it doesnt feel right/comfortable when people refer to it as male, but it doesnt feel right as 'female' or 'non binary' either. "it's like… '[himeru]' doesn't want to be referred to as anything. '[himeru]' wants to be treated like… a doll? perhaps? something admirable even if not 'human'… [himeru] is probably not making much sense…" and then momame tojo pulls up a laptop and is like ''alright, family bonding time.'' and kaname comes running over all smol-boy-child like ''ooo bonding bonding? i love bonding! i love spending time with my mama and nii-chan!! you're my favorite people in the world :D!! <3" and then they start looking into a bunch of diff pronouns and each select a few different ones to try out. (yes, this is my excuse to explain my momame and kaname have neo-pronouns headcannon now (even if their primary pronouns are still she/her and he/him they also have a few neos they'll ask people to use in conversation to make the atmosphere more welcoming to others who might be less-sure about their gender 🥺 )) himeru eventually settles on it/its <3 also the image of bby kaname excitedly walking into his kindergarten class and immediately telling everyone about everything he knows abt neo pronouns 👀 👀 😃

:cantdothis: kaname: himenii is sooo cool some other baby: his pronouns kinda suck :? who would want to be called ‘it’ kaname: :HiMERUconfusion: (smacks their face into their pudding)

[1]niki: what's a pronoun and can i eat it?

momame: care to tell me why [bitch boy] has a broken nose? kaname: * sniffling and sobbing * h-he * sniff* he saaid nii-chan sucked! a-and th-at i-its pronouns weere duuumb * sobs * ((T^T)) momame, menacing: it's alright dear, mama's here :)

[1]rinne: a pronoun is that thing you use for drawing ankles, dumbass himeru: that is a protractor. and the word is ‘angles’ rinne: im not pro for tractors why are you spreading slander himeru: can we kick him out already

[anon1]This might be super random [2]But I just decided rinne sings in the shower

TRUTH

[2]cannon (<- probably not canon)

[anon1]like an old fashioned idol or something

[gaudy rinne gif]

i know that motherfucker starts belting out crazy roulette every time he hears niki come home

[celosiaa]

Yo Connor! I made a post a while back about this but imagine s1 archives gang: Sasha and Tim wanna play hooky to go drinking so they pretend to be sick to get sent home early. But their work gets piled onto poor poor Martin whos starting to come down with something. Cut to Tim and Sasha coming back to work to find a super sick and overworked Martin (my post has diff situations that they could come back to but basically it’s all “Martin is completely miserable”)

~ ineedmysickfix

Hello friend!!!!! Apologies for the delay!! I hope you’ll like this all the same :)

CW nausea

 “Oh, Sasha—you’re gonna hate me,” Tim drawls dramatically, draping an arm around her shoulders, causing them both to stagger. “You’re absolutely going to hate me.”

“Don’t tell me—ha! Tim—”

Sasha is broken off by a sudden, if sloppy, kiss to her cheek, the momentum of it nearly taking them both to the ground as they stumble on slightly-intoxicated legs. Well—perhaps more than slightly, after all.  It is later, much later than they had intended to be out, and dark has fully settled over the still-bustling London landscape as they attempt to make their way back to the Tube station from the pub.

Where they had been playing hooky. Gloriously.

It is a bit pitiful, how gullible their mess of a friend currently playing at being their boss could be. Shamefully, upon reflection, Sasha recalls Jon’s worried response that afternoon to the torrent of falsified coughs and sneezes he had heard from his office, before insisting that the two of them go home to rest. And to “not infect anyone else,” of course—tacked on in some feeble attempt not to care.

And go home, they had—if you can call a pub a home, that is. While it was not exactly buzzing with customers at the mid-afternoon, it had been a nice place to camp out for the day and enjoy each other’s company. Though they had lamented not letting Martin in on the plan—even if it was nice to have a evening just for themselves, something hadn’t felt right about leaving him behind. Not with the ever-growing tower of files on his desk, building up over the last week in a bit of an alarming fashion.

Sending out a quick thought for him as they walk, Sasha turns her attention back to Tim, linking her arm with his with a poorly-hidden smile.

“What have you done this time, Stoker? What else could there possibly be to make me want to kill you even more?”

“Even more? After I serenaded you at karaoke?”

“Especially after you serenaded me at karaoke,” she replies, pulling him just a little bit closer. “Bold move, especially knowing I’ve got a knife on me.”

“Yeah, a pocket knife,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Which we might have to use to break back into the Institute, by the way.”

“Tim, you didn’t!”

Groaning in dismay, Sasha stops their pace abruptly, searching his face for any sign of a joke—tragically, finding none.

“Tim. Hey, Tim.”

She grabs both sides of his face, pulling his forehead to rest against her own.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t forget your keys again.”

A nervous swallow, a flick away of his eyes—before a poorly-hidden smile laces his tone.

“I did not…do this thing.”

“TIM!”

“Alright, alright!! I may have!” he laughs as she drops her hands from his face, in favor of using them to push back against his chest. “But don’t worry! There’s no way even Jon is still there. Pretty sure he was heading home to rest after Salat al-Jumu’ah—said he hurt his knee, and he has PT in the morning.”

“Jon was going home?” Sasha asks in disbelief, her face showcasing the wild array of thoughts flitting through her mind. “First of all—concerning. Second of all—do you mean to tell me that we left poor Martin there all on his own?”

“He’s fine, Sasha,” Tim assures, throwing an arm around her to keep them walking. “Martin’s an adult, he knows he can leave any time he damn well pleases. Especially since Jon isn’t there.”

“Well, yeah, but—I dunno, he just seemed…off this week,” she replies worriedly, twisting a finger around her long locks.”

“He’s fine. We’ll make it up to him on Monday, or something.”

“Right,” Sasha sighs, leaning a bit further into his warmth. “You’re right, we can—we can get him some of that good tea that he likes, the expensive kind.”

“Alright, rich kid.”

“Shut it.”

With another peck to the cheek, both silly and giddy, they continue on their way back to the Institute—neither too displeased at having the other so close.

—

Work.

Just keep working.

Just focus.

Cold, Martin feels the cold of the archives seeping deeper into his bones with every moment that passes. Or is it heat? Too hot, suffocating, can barely catch a comfortable breath before the coughing starts up again, pounding against his skull and leaving him exhausted. Surely it hadn’t been this bad this morning—his therapist’s voice rings out in his mind, telling him it’s alright to go home, that he ought not have come in anyway—but he does not listen. Cannot listen, not with Jon out and in pain, and Tim and Sasha both out sick.

No—this was his job. Just has to push through, pick up the slack, keep going.

Someone has to.

For as much as Martin tries to tell himself that he’s not ill, that he never gets ill, he knows it’s all a lie. Sleep has come in sparse patches for him these past few weeks—and that has left him vulnerable to what he is now fairly certain is a nasty case of flu. It’s just been so much recently, with his mum intermittently calling him from the care home in Devon, and not answering the phone when he returns her calls. Though he would never want to think so poorly of his own mother—ungrateful, cruel, sad excuse for a son—he cannot help but have the thought that she’s doing this on purpose, calling him when she knows he’s busy—

Stop it.

Selfish.

Cruel.

Focus.

The stacks of files in the corners of his vision, piled so high he can barely see his surroundings beyond his desk, very nearly manage to draw out the tears Martin has so desperately been trying to hold back over the past—however long it’s been, now. Overwhelmed, he’s overwhelmed and wants nothing more than just to sleep. But Jon. Jon needs this done, Tim and Sasha need to rest—none of them need to have a miserable next week if he can just. Focus. Now.

Sniffing back against the congestion sitting heavy in his sinuses, Martin steels himself as well as he can, and drags his attention back to the piles and piles of nightmares before him.

—

As soon as they found the door to the archives unlocked, Sasha knew something was wrong.

Jon was so strangely protective of the place; always kept such a careful watch on it that it was unfathomable for him to not make certain that everything was locked, and the lights turned out at the end of each day. Surely, even if Martin had been the last one there, surely Jon would have called several times to ensure he would do the same—possibly even dragging himself back over the the dusty old basement, just to make sure.

And yet—here they are. Standing before the unlocked door to the archives.

“Can’t be good,” says Tim, running a hand anxiously down his beard.

“Not at all,” Sasha replies at once, voice low as she carefully pushes the door open.

The office beyond is almost entirely darkened, corners obscured by shadows and cobwebs and god knows what else down here. Only the light from a single lamp illuminates a desk—messy, piled high with stacks of files and reference volumes, some spilled over and scattered onto the floor. Martin’s desk. And Martin, leaning heavily against it.

Though she cannot see his face where it has been propped heavily between both of his hands, Sasha immediately takes note of of the blanket he’s wrapped himself tightly with, the bin by his feet overflowing with tissues, the row of mugs set on the floor to make room for more files. The way one has been tipped over, creating a dark spot on the carpet where it had spilled its contents, but Martin has not seemed to notice. A rarity—and a concerning one at that, for certain.

Exchanging a quick glance with Tim, who looks very much as worried as she feels, Sasha steps a bit forward, clearing her throat before calling gently to him.

“Martin? You alright, love?”

The impact is immediate—clearly, he had not heard them come in, nor seen their shadows stretching across the light of his lamp. For he jumps bodily in his seat, tipping it back with such a heavy creak that Sasha is certain it will send him to the floor completely. A gasp, loud and deep, as his wild, fever-glassed eyes meet theirs—before it turns into a fit of harsh, painful hacks that he buries hastily in what appears to be his last remaining tissue.

“Aw, Marto,” Tim says sympathetically as he strides over to him, rubbing a hand over his back as the coughing continues, Sasha following suit to grab a box of tissues from her own desk, and set it in front of him.

“Sorry, m’sorry,” he croaks, voice weathered and broken in the wake of his fit.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, mate,” Tim says softly, slipping a hand over Martin’s forehead—evidently not liking the heat he finds there, if his grimace is anything to go by. “How long have you been ill? You seemed alright this morning.”

“M’fine, Tim,” he mutters back, sniffing heavily and reaching for the new box of tissues. “Thanks, Sash—”

A sudden look of horror washes over his face as he meets her eyes, letting out a shallow gasp and covering his mouth with one hand.

“Wait, you’re—you’re ill, you’re both ill, you need these—”

“We’re not ill, Martin,” Sasha soothes at once, cursing both herself and Tim for going through with what was clearly a terrible idea.

“You’re not?”

“We wanted to skive off work,” Tim echoes, pulling Martin’s blanket back up from where it had slipped off his shaking shoulders. “We…we went out to the pub instead.”

“Oh,” is the only soft response that comes from him, as he drops his eyes back to the statement in front of him—and the guilt welling up inside Sasha is enough to break her heart.

“We would never have done that if we had known you were actually ill,” she clarifies rapidly. “We should have…we should have said. Shouldn’t have done that at all, really.”

“Yeah. Sash is right, we’re really sorry, Martin,” says Tim, wincing as the terrible coughing starts up once again, doubling him forward—and this time, he does not straighten back up.

“Oh,” he says again, miserably, squeezing his eyes shut against the apparent dizziness—enough to send Tim reaching for the empty bin from beneath his own desk, just in case.

“You alright?” asks Sasha, setting a bracing hand against his hunched shoulders.

It takes a few moments for him to reply this time, as he breathes as deeply as possible for a bit—still altogether too shallow, in Sasha’s opinion. She can hear the hitching at the back of his throat, knows that he’s trying so hard to keep from coughing again, whether for their sake or to avoid worsening the nausea, she can’t be sure.

“M’alright. Sorry,” he apologizes again, shivering hard as he does, pulling the blanket just a bit tighter around himself and sniffling. “Shouldn’t be here, you’ll probably catch it.”

“You shouldn’t be here, love,” Sasha counters, catching Tim’s gaze and jerking her head toward the breakroom—and he heads in that direction at once. “We’re going to get some water and medicine into you, and then you’re going straight home.”

“Can’t,” he whispers in return, shaking his head against the fresh tears that have sprung into his eyes, breaking Sasha’s heart to bits again. “There’s so much—so much to do, and Jon—Jon’s not well, and you—well, I suppose you’re—you’re not, heh—”

“Martin,” she says, bending crouching down to the level of his eyeline. “You do not need to be here. You do not need to do all this work yourself—if it makes you feel better, Tim and I can get some of this done over the weekend. But I highly doubt even Jon would ask you to do all of this today.”

“He—he didn’t.”

And now here come the tears, spilling hot over his cheeks, unable to be held back in with the stress the fever wracks through his body.

“I’ve—I’ve gotten so behind, this is almost a week’s worth of work, I’ve just been—I’ve not been focused, I can’t—god, I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright, Martin,” Sasha soothes, handing him another tissue which he uses to swipe at his streaming eyes and nose. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”

Squeezing his eyes shut again, tears leaking from beneath his lashes, Martin nods—burying his face in his hands, before Sasha wraps her arms around him.

“It’s alright, darling. Just hush, I’ve got you.”

It is to this sight that Tim arrives back from the break room, armed with medicine and a thermometer and a glass of water. Upon seeing them, his face falls in sorrow—reluctant to interrupt the stillness of the moment—before the whistling of the electric kettle from the breakroom causes Martin to pick up his head, turning his head toward the noise only to find Tim frozen in the doorway.

“Oh—thank you, that’s—” he pauses for a moment to cough behind closed lips, swiping at his eyes as he does so. “That’s really kind, I’m—I’m alright. I’m sure it’s just the flu, or something.”

“Don’t really think there’s such a thing as ‘just’ the flu, Marto,” Tim says, rolling his eyes with a smile—which, to Sasha’s immense relief, Martin returns, if still a bit watery.

“Yeah, Martin—let’s get you some meds, and get you home,” Sasha insists. “I’ll go fetch you some tea as well. Can’t send you home without something warm in your stomach.”

“I—thank you, really,” he beams, accepting the pills from Tim with his own, rather more shaky hands. “You’re—that’s really kind.”

“It’s nothing at all, Martin,” she replies at once, relieved to see him swallow the pills readily. “Let’s get you warm, and get you home.”

[prouvaireafterdark]

Hi friend! Same anon who suggested the thigh riding fic here (still not over it, iconic). A change of pace - and if you’re comfortable writing about this subject matter - Alex and Michael getting super stoned. Michael brings a joint over to Alex’s, they haven’t smoked together since high school and lazily rub off against each other (too much cotton mouth to give head and not enough coordination to fuck) and it brings back a rush of warm and fond memories of doing the same when they were kids.

Hope you like! 😘

Also on AO3!

***

“Guess what I’ve got,” Michael says excitedly as he enters the kitchen and tosses his keys on the table.

He walks up to where Alex is leaning back against the counter, sipping on a half-empty glass of red wine, and drops a kiss on his cheek in greeting. It’s so sweet and domestic that Alex almost forgets why he’s supposed to be mad. Almost.

“An excuse for why you’re an hour late to dinner?” Alex asks when Michael pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” Michael cringes, deflating a little. “Liz needed some last minute help with an experiment, I got here as soon as I could.”

“Everything okay?” Alex asks, standing up a little straighter.

“Yeah, only minor explosions this time,” Michael jokes.

Alex sighs and shakes his head, but he can’t keep the smile off his face.

“Text me next time, okay?” Alex asks, tugging Michael close by the edge of his fleece-lined jacket. “I worry about you.”

“I will, promise,” Michael concedes, kissing the corner of his mouth this time. When he pulls away there’s a mischievous look in his eye. “So, you gonna guess?”

“Thought I already did,” Alex says, raising an eyebrow.

“Fair enough,” Michael concedes and reaches into his pocket.

He pulls out a small ziplock baggie with a joint inside.

“Guerin,” Alex says, a little disapprovingly. “I thought we weren’t breaking the law anymore.”

“Relax, I didn’t buy it,” Michael defends himself with a roll of his eyes. “I liberated it from Rosa.“

“She’s using again?” Alex asks, worry etching its way onto his face.

“Nah, she found it in an old book she had in her room and wanted to get rid of it.”

“Good,” Alex says, relieved. “That’s good.”

“So, you wanna?” Michael asks after a second, shaking the baggie in front of Alex’s face.

Alex gives the joint, and Michael, a dubious look.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Michael pouts. “I used to get my weed from you in high school.”

Alex laughs and shakes his head.

“It’s not that,” Alex insists. “It’s just—that thing’s a decade old, it’s gonna taste terrible.”

“So did the cheap shit we used to smoke in the back of my truck,” Michael argues with a shrug. “Come on, it’ll be just like old times.”

He has a point, Alex must admit, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little seduced by the idea of revisiting the rebellious days of their youth.

“Dinner first,” Alex decides. “And we’re doing it outside. I don’t want our bedroom to smell like a dispensary.”

Michael grins at him and leans in to steal a kiss.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Later, Alex watches Michael’s cheeks hollow as he takes a long drag off the joint where they sit in their backyard, side by side in front of the unlit fire pit. A few seconds later, a large cloud of smoke billows out of his mouth.

“Eugh,” Michael says, making a sour face as he hands the joint to Alex. “Okay. You were right.”

Alex laughs at him, but accepts it anyway. No going back now—if he’s gotta smell it, he might as well get something out of it.

He takes a hit and, yeah, it tastes like shit, but he can’t help feeling a little nostalgic at the gentle burn in his chest. It takes him back to those cool summer nights spent curled up with Michael in the bed of his truck, far enough away from Roswell that it didn’t matter who Alex’s dad was or where he was shipping off to—all he’d needed to think about was the way Michael made him feel when he straddled his thighs and shotgunned smoke into his mouth.

The thought sends tendrils of heat snaking through Alex’s belly that have little to do with the smoke in his lungs. Michael extends his hand toward Alex to take the joint back, but Alex has a better idea.

“Come here,” Alex says, locking eyes with Michael and patting his thigh.

Michael visibly swallows as he stands up and walks over to him. At Alex’s gentle prodding, Michael climbs into his lap and arranges himself across his thighs just so to keep most of his weight off Alex’s bad leg. Alex rests his left hand against his hip to keep him there.

Alex takes another drag off the joint and holds the smoke in his lungs as he leans into Michael’s space. He watches Michael’s eyes flutter closed as he brings their lips together, feels them soft and warm and wet against his own as he exhales slowly into Michael’s mouth. Alex flicks his tongue out against Michael’s full bottom lip once his lungs are empty, the taste of Michael’s skin much more pleasant than the acrid smoke curling around them.

“Fuck,” Michael whispers into the space between them as he exhales.

“Just like old times, right?” Alex asks, his lips quirking up into a smug smile.

“Mhmm,” Michael hums and presses a proper kiss to Alex’s lips before he leans back and takes the joint delicately from between Alex’s fingers. “My turn.”

They smoke a few minutes longer, trading kisses between hits. Alex isn’t sure if it’s Michael or the weed or some combination of the two making him feel like he’s floating, but he happily sinks into that warm buzz until Michael gasps softly against his mouth.

“What?” Alex asks, eyes half-lidded as he pulls back to look at Michael’s face.

“We have ice cream.”

Which is how they end up in bed approximately twenty minutes later, stripped down to their underwear with matching bowls of melting chocolate peanut butter ice cream in their laps as they watch Mythbusters reruns.

Michael is enraptured, spoon frozen halfway to his open mouth as he watches the team succeed in driving a motorcycle over the liquid surface of a lake.

Alex, on the other hand, is struck with the sudden, terrible realization that Jamie Hyneman’s mustache kind of makes him look like a walrus and promptly loses his fucking mind.

“What?” Michael asks, glancing down to where Alex has sunk into the bed and is rolling onto his side to smother his laughter against Michael’s hip.

Alex opens his mouth to speak, but he only giggles harder when he looks up at Michael’s face and sees a fresh smear of ice cream on his chin.

“You’re so fucking stoned, babe,” Michael laughs, reaching down to thread his fingers through Alex’s hair.

Alex is laughing too hard to disagree.

Michael puts his and Alex’s bowls on the bedside table before he lies down next to him. He pillows his head on his arm and watches him with an amused smile, evidently finding him much more interesting to watch than his favorite childhood TV show. If it wasn’t for how obviously bloodshot Michael’s eyes are, Alex would wonder if he was the only one feeling the joint they split right now.

“You have ice cream on your face,” Alex tells him, wiping the tears streaming from his eyes once he’s settled down.

“Where?”

“Here,” Alex answers, and instead of swiping at it with his finger, he leans in to lick it off his chin. The chocolate is sweet, but the soft moan Michael makes as Alex drags his tongue across his stubble is sweeter, and Alex finds himself chasing that sound right into Michael’s mouth.

Alex loses all sense of time as Michael kisses him—it could be seconds, minutes, or hours that he lies there, consumed by the softness of Michael’s mouth against his. He feels so hyperaware of him, so connected, that just the brush of Michael’s fingers against his cheek has pleasure buzzing through his whole body.

They trade slow kisses like that until Alex feels something hard against his hip. He pulls away, smoothing a palm down Michael’s bare chest to keep the distance between them, and looks down to see the thick outline of Michael’s cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“You’re hard,” Alex points out before looking up at him again.

Michael follows his line of sight, as if he hasn’t noticed, and Alex bites off a moan a second later when he feels Michael’s warm hand cupping his cock.

“So’re you,” Michael says, palming him gently through his underwear. Alex’s hips twitch involuntarily into Michael’s touch as he asks, “Want me to blow you?”

Alex shakes his head. He remembers all too well what a mood killer it is to try to  suck cock with cottonmouth.

Instead, Alex reaches down to pull Michael’s cock out of his underwear, pushing the waistband under his balls. He gives him a few strokes, delighting in the way he jumps against his fingers. Michael slips his hand into Alex’s underwear to wrap around him in turn, but Alex lets go of Michael’s cock and takes him by the wrist, drawing his hand away from him. Michael’s brow furrows in confusion as he watches Alex free his own cock, but understanding clicks into place as Alex grabs hold of Michael’s knee and hikes it up over his hip, slotting his right thigh into the space he makes between Michael’s legs. Alex presses close until he can feel both of their cocks trapped hot and hard between them.

“Like we used to,” Alex says, grinding his hips encouragingly against Michael. “Remember?”

Michael lets out a shuddering breath and nods, drawing his leg tighter around the back of Alex’s body.

They move against each other lazily, sweat and pre-come slicking the way, and Alex can’t help but think of that summer before he shipped off to basic again, when his life was a series of moments stolen in the back of Michael’s truck.

He remembers lying on a pile of blankets and sleeping bags, the smell of rain and cannabis thick in the air around them as they rut against each other until they came at least twice, Michael gasping into his mouth each time he fell over the edge, unwilling to spend a single second not kissing him.

There was no need for words then, their bodies speaking to each other in a way that transcended language, and Alex finds it’s no different now—he can feel how much Michael wants him in the way his cock weeps against his belly with every rock of their hips, he can hear how much he needs him in the soft, desperate whimpers he smothers against his mouth, and he swears he can even taste how much he loves him on the very tip of his tongue as it slips passed his lips.

Time slows to a crawl even as one minute bleeds into the next. Michael’s heated skin is heaven beneath his fingers, every sigh, every moan, every gasp hitting his ears sweeter than any music he’s ever heard. In the midst of a symphony of sensations, Alex barely notices when his pleasure crests and he spills hot and wet between them.

A second and a lifetime pass before Michael does the same, burying a moan into Alex’s neck as he comes. Alex holds him close as he trembles with the force of it, all the while thinking, yes, this is just like it was when they were kids.

Except it’s better, Alex decides as he settles against Michael’s chest after haphazardly cleaning up, sleep slowly pulling him under.

It’s better because they’re in their own bed, in their own home, with their own TV playing softly in the background.

It’s better because this moment isn’t stolen at all.

[dragoninthecloud]

Surprise? part 2

So you know how I said that Ladrien accidental pregnancy thing I did was a one shot? Yeah.... Have a mostly fluffy follow up conversation to it! which completely changed from what I said I wanted to do shhh don’t look at me like that 

Huge thanks to @tbehartoo for all the help <3  

Part 1

-~-

Ladybug felt a wave of relief flow through her, and couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up as she finally felt herself start to smile. She reached up to hold his wrists while he still held her face, and he was smiling back at her as they both took a moment to bask in the new connection between them.

When he started to pull back she tried to quickly scrub her damp cheeks dry, only for him to catch her hands and hold them gently in one of his as he wiped the tear trails away himself. She couldn’t help but laugh again, and shake him off to gently run her thumbs under his own shining eyes instead.

“So, how’re you feeling?” has asked quietly when they had both stopped drying tears. “Do you need anything?”

“Well, I could do with a hug if you don’t mi-”

She didn’t manage to finish her sentence before he started to scoot back on his bed to sit against the wall, holding his hands out wide and wiggling his fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture. She giggled, sounding almost normal she was proud to note, and climbed over to sit across his lap, resting her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her hair.

“I will never say no to hugging you. Especially not now.”

She sighed softly, snuggling her head against his neck and closing her eyes, wriggling to get one hand snaked around his back and the other up to grip the t-shirt at his free shoulder.

“Thank you Adrien. You really are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“And you to me. Now. Tell me honestly, are you ok? I know what you’re like, and I’m having trouble believing you’re as calm you’re acting right now.”

She choked down a laugh that wanted to be a sob. He knew her far too well.

“Honestly? I’m a bit better now I’ve told you, sort of. I was more afraid of how you might react than the actually being pregnant part. I mean, you’re only twenty Adrien. This is a major change to your life, and I know you just said you want this but I really will understand if-”

Fingers found her lips and gently pinched them shut.

“And you can’t be much older than me, if not the same or younger. And, actually, are you sure you want to…” he trailed off, and she pushed herself up from him so quickly his head bounced off the wall and she untangled her arms from around him to hold his face between her hands, staring desperately into his eyes and willing him to believe her.

“Yes! Don’t ever think I don’t want this with you, or I’m not perfectly happy to have your baby! I know I’ve not mentioned it before, but I’ve been imagining our lives together for as long as I’ve known you. And it’s always been you, me, a hamster, and three children. So this is a start towards my dream.”

He stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, before it shifted back into a sappy grin, his eyes misting over again.

“Make that two hamsters then. Because my dream was always you and me and a hamster on a tropical island somewhere. But I’ll trade that island for children with you.”

She laughed, running her hands over his face and leaning in to kiss him, softly at first then harder as he wrapped his arms back around her. They were panting when she finally pulled back, and she couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up inside her, answered by his low chuckle.

“So. Do our children have names?”

“Hmm?”

“You said your dream was three children. I want to know if they have names.”

“Oh. Erm, Emma, Louis, and Hugo. But that’s just what I picked years ago, I mean if you don’t like them or want something diff-”

She was cut off with a kiss again, soft and gentle and she could feel the love radiating from him through it. Her fingers started to move through his hair, slowly and gently and just enjoying the care and calm that surrounded her. She pulled back before they could get distracted again, since there were still things to talk about.

Adrien pouted but let her, seeming to understand what she intended. It was one of the things she loved about him. He knew her so well, sometimes knowing what she wanted or would do before she’d realised herself. He dropped his hands to her hips and started drawing loopy relaxing patterns, and she settled her head back against him.

“I really want to go back to those plans of yours later, but for now tell me everything. You’re, what, just over four weeks?”

“Mmmm,” she hummed, kissing his neck softly. “Four and a half weeks, yes, since that’s when we, yeah.” She paused while he snickered, and she felt the blush start to form. She knew she should be able to talk about things like this, especially now, but there was a big difference between talking and doing in her mind.

“Or I might be six. I need to talk to the doctor, since pregnancy is normally counted from the start of the last period, but we know exactly when it would have happened so I’m not sure how it works. But anyway, according to the internet baby is about the size of a poppy seed right now, or a sweet pea. I’ve been getting cramping, which I’d thought was my period being late but is apparently baby, and I don’t think I’ve started with mood swings yet, but I’m not sure my roommate would agree given how she’s been acting with me the last few days.”

He laughed, and the way his whole body shook made her grin.

“I’m going to be getting tired, and cranky, so I apologise now if I get mean with you at all.”

He laughed again, lifting a hand to stroke gently through her hair as his other stroked along her back.

“I’m pretty sure you’re allowed to be cranky. For at least, oh I don’t know, nine months maybe?”

She snorted, tilting her head up so she could kiss his jaw, then his lips as he bent down to meet her.

“Dork,” she muttered playfully, grinning up at him when they parted, before snuggling again. She stayed there, happy to just be with him and enjoy the moment. She hadn’t stopped thinking of worst case scenarios since she’d done the test yesterday, and all the different ways this could have gone badly were still haunting her thoughts even after his reassurances. Because there were still ways this could go wrong, with the things left to discuss.

“Do you want the websites I was looking at yesterday by the way? There’s a chart to show you how big the baby is at each week, and what sort of effect it’s going to be having on me.”

“Yeah actually, that’d be great,” he said, reaching around her for his laptop at the end of the bed. “I mean, I was going to start looking things up as soon as you’d gone so I can figure out how to help you best, and if I need to buy anything, so having that to start from would be nice.”

She pulled away from him, ignoring his pout so she could grab his face and squeeze his cheeks gently between her hands

“Adrien Agreste, you are not to go mad and start buying stuff. I am telling you now, no. How would you explain a load of baby things showing up in the post to Nino and Alya anyway? They don’t even know you’re dating! Besides, the first ten to twelve weeks are the most dangerous, so you have to wait till after that and me telling you who I am at least.”

“Ten to twelve weeks? You want me to wait…”  he trailed off, eyes wide with shock and hope, before continuing in an awed whisper. “You’re going to tell me who you are?”

She bit her lip, then nodded hesitantly.

“Yes. I, I need to tell Chat Noir first, because he’s been my partner for five years and I’ve always promised him that if I had any choice about  it I’d tell him first. Which is the only reason I’m not telling you right now. But I want to tell you, soon, so you, we can start telling people that are important to us. But I promise, as soon as he knows, you will too.”

Of all the reactions she expected from him, bursting into laughter wasn’t one of them. He dropped his head to her shoulder and she couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying as his shoulder started to shake, even as she reached to wrap her arms around him. Stress could make people act strangely sometimes she supposed, and she had just dropped a lot on him all at once. When he calmed down and leaned back against the wall, he was grinning widely as he rubbed at his watery eyes.

“Sorry, sorry. I just, yeah. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and rolled his neck, and his smile became something more sheepish, and she was immediately on alert.

“And, erm, my friends already kinda think I’m dating someone, so it won’t be as big a problem as it could be?”

“Oh?” she asked, keeping her tone even while her stomach flipped.

“Yeah. See, Nino has been making jokes lately, about how I’m secretly dating someone, and he then starts talking about our friend Marinette? You remember her, right? Well he keeps saying things about how we always disappear at the same time, and come back all out of breath. And points out how we always end up sharing a sofa when we all watch movies and she really likes to cuddle so I’ve been letting her, and I think he’s heard you here a few times and thought it was her, and then he found a receipt once for flowers I’d bought you which are also her favourites. So Nino has been saying about how he gets it, he understands why we just haven’t told anyone because we don’t want to deal with the hassle of the press and all that. So… so we can always fall back on that if we need to?”

Her heart stopped for a beat while she tried to process what he was saying, and her face must have changed somehow because he rushed on.

“Not that I’m dating her! That I’m dating I mean. Because I promise, there is nothing like that between me and Marinette. You’re the only person for me Lovebug. And I’ve let them make jokes because it was easier than fighting them but I can start shutting them down and talking about you being someone else now so it won’t be such a shoc-”

She pressed a finger to hips lips gently, stopping his babble as her mind raced. She’d stopped denying Alya’s jokes about her having a secret boyfriend, who she kept sneaking away to see during Akuma attacks, years ago. And then had jokingly agreed and moved the conversation on when Alya had started suggesting that she’d finally gotten with Adrien when she had started dating him. But to realise that was now all working to her advantage was, well, a miraculous stroke of luck.

“I know Adrien, Marinette is just a friend,” she said dryly, enjoying his pout at the long standing joke. “Don’t change how you are with your friends just now. Try to keep acting the same, so you don’t make them suspicious. I know what Alya is like remember, and how she is when she thinks there’s a story to uncover. And we can work out the details when you, you and Chat, know.”

“Ah. Yes. When, I mean, what are you going to tell Chat?”

She sighed, having expected him to ask, but still not sure what to say. Which was why she’d avoided it.

“I’m not sure? I only just found out yesterday, and it’s still sinking in, so I’ve not thought of how yet. Say,” she said, sliding her hands from her lap to his shoulder and meeting his curious gaze.

“If you were Chat Noir, my superhero partner of five years, who was madly in love with me until I got a super-hot boyfriend, how would you want me to tell you that I was pregnant with said boyfriend’s kid?”

She watched, fascinated, as his face cycled through in a mixture of amused, embarrassed, proud, thoughtful, and smug.

“Super-hot, huh? Heh. Ahem. I guess I’d want you to let me know as soon as possible, so I could make sure I can protect you better and you don’t get hurt more than needed?”

“That’s when, Adrien, not how.”

“Right, right. Er. Maybe on patrol? You’re meeting him on Thursday, right? So maybe near the end, you stop him on a roof away from everything and let him know that you had an awesome and fun night with your super-hot model boyfriend a few weeks ago and now-”

She grabbed his pillow and hit him over the head with it, laughing at his yelps and attempts to hide by burying his face in her neck.

“Yeah no. You know he’s super protective of me, and while he knows I'm dating someone, I don’t think things would go well if I drop it on him like that. I especially wouldn’t like your wardrobe's chances if, or rather when, he then finds out who you are.”

“Somehow I think I’ll be fine. You could just be straight with him, don’t beat around the bush. Just be 'Oh hi Chat, nice day today,'" he said in a surprisingly good impression of her voice as he pulled back from her. "'I think we should maybe swing around the Tower tonight, I'm pregnant, and then maybe drop by Alya’s and see if she has any new leads we can follow-'”

She rolled her eyes as she pushed the pillow against his face, muffling his laughter, then froze as she heard keys in the lock from the main room. She quickly climbed off him and moved towards the window.

“Sounds like Nino’s home. I’ll see you later my darling sunshine boy,” she said quietly, jumping up to crouch in the open window as Adrien joined her, aware of Nino and Alya now moving around in the other room as she grabbed his shirt to pull him closer.

“Later my lovely bug,” he whispered back, kissing her softly before stepping back and letting her swing away.

[bloodline-rpg]

Congratulations, P! We’ve accepted your application for your OC, Jordan Becker. Please send in your blog as soon as you can! Welcome to Bloodline!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/Alias: P

Age: 23

Preferred pronouns: she/her

Timezone: EST

Level of activity: I’m around at least once a day in the evening for a few hours, unless there’s something going on. And even if there’s something going on, i’ll still probably be reading on the dash.

CHARACTER DETAILS

Character’s Name: Jordan Becker

Desired FC: Penelope Mitchell

Character’s Age: 25

Character’s Species: Holistic Witch

Character’s Sexuality: Pansexual

CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY

Growing up, Jordan had a relatively easy life, besides the typical trials and tribulations of a liberal teenager growing up in a very not liberal house. Her parents, Isabelle and Griffin Becker, brought her up as if she was a human, despite being born from a long line of witches themselves. They were high-school sweethearts, bonding over their affinity for all things magic. Once they’d ventured off to community college together, they had a nasty run-in with another group of witches and their bonded wolf familiars. It was a simple misunderstanding but it ended up being far too dangerous than they would have liked. It struck fear in them– and soon after, when Isabelle found out she was pregnant with her first and only child, they both vowed to move across the country from Seattle, Washington to the small town of Clarksville, Virginia.

With such an important aspect of her identity hidden from her by her parents, Jordan felt like something was missing from her life. The void was less obvious when she was a child but as she grew into adolescence, the void grew more noticeable than ever. She engaged in everything she could to fill the emptiness– everything from sports to the kind of reckless behavior a teenager had no business sticking her nose in. Nothing worked and it wasn’t like she could seek guidance from her parents, given their estranged nature, nor did she have cousins or extended family. As far as they were concerned, Jordan’s parents had spun the story of them being ousted from the family for having Jordan so young.

And she believed it.

Once she’d graduated, she chose to run away. She didn’t particularly have a destination in mind, but she knew she wouldn’t find what she was looking for in Virginia. She spent years traveling, sight-seeing and couch surfing–all the things a free spirited young person might ever want to do on the road. It wasn’t until she got to Philadelphia, PA, 6 years later, that she settled down a little. As she explored her new home, becoming more familiar with the city, she came across a small, kitschy palm reading shop. There was a supposed “psychic”, Calliope, who could tell all by the touch of her hand and a glance into her crystal ball. One thing led to another and Jordan was introduced into what she’d been missing all along– magic.

Jordan spent a few months under her tutelage, learning everything she could about witchcraft. All of that crumbled to the ground when hunters found them. Jordan, only having vague knowledge of offensive magic, wasn’t able to defend herself or her mentor, who she’d grown to care about immensely. She was like family. The hunters tore Calliope’s shop apart and murdered her. Jordan was the sole witness of the gruesome event and managed to escape while their focus was on her. Since then, a deep seated fear has taken root in her. She wasn’t ready to die.

With no one else to look for guidance from or rely upon, she could only guess about what other horrors her parents hid from her and why they insisted on running from their ancestry. Luckily, Calliope had briefly spoken to her about Carden Manor. About how it was a conglomerate of covens seeking to protect each other. And although Jordan never saw herself as the type of person to desire ( let alone need ) a coven or family, she made the decision to head there. Not only could she seek asylum, but maybe she can learn a thing or two. .

CHARACTER PERSONALITY

Wild and carefree, Jordan tends to stay away from rules unless they serve her, specifically. Over the span of her life, she’s   grown accustomed to being on her own. She doesn’t necessarily mind it but it has made her selfish in some ways. She’s never had to truly care for another person, other than Calliope. Despite this, she is quite social. She tends to carry herself in a way that draws attention and friends; however they’ve always been at a surface level– something she’s also always been content with. At the end of the day, she’s in it for herself and will weasel herself in and out of situations as she sees fit and typically, without real remorse.

PLOTS AND POLITICS

I don’t think Jordan feels much, necessarily, about the families and general politics of their world. She doesn’t lean one way or another, as she’s very much in it for her own safety. I’d imagine she’d side with whoever’s “winning” during the time, if it came down to picking a side, rather than focusing on the morality of anything. At this point in her life, surviving and learning more about witchcraft is her focus. I’d like for her to develop that sense of belonging, though, and perhaps have the opportunity to stand for something other than herself. It’d be legit to see her make some kind of sacrifice for someone else, somewhere along the way.

SOURCES

https://ferasanguis.tumblr.com/ hopefully this works? it’s got a lil bit of everything– paras, short back and forth gif chats, and diff types of characters. let me know if it doesn’t work tho, i have other accounts and whatnot.

[sundrenched-smilez]

odd numbers for the lesbian asks! (if it's too many just do every 4th one maybe?)

1. Femme or butch? 

for type, im vry easily wooed by butches tbh

as for myself, im genderfluid + heavily lean towards butch-ish for one gender + have been gettin more comf w that term for myself. the 3 genders i switch between, ive described as sharp, dainty and tired, for reason of not really being comf w gender labels aside from nonbinary. sharp/tired r kinda butchish, moreso sharp. like leather jackets, ripped jeans, dress pants/shirts, defs flannels (which r a given for any mood im in tbh) while tired is like mb softer, more focused on flannels + loose tank tops/shirts, shorts + certain skirts, comfy clothes, and the like   

ive found that i’m leaning more towards butch lately too, like i’ve been a lot more comfortable with pants and a nice top than i have w dresses or most skirts + im wondering if i was just hanging on to femininity for sake of society, so those r things 2 think abt. i still feel comf in them sometimes, but it’s getting much less often. gender’s weird, i still cant cling to one bc of how pressuring that is so genderfluidity is still smth for me + it shifting to different percentages is okay (im thinking out loud @ this point, but its helping so i hope its interesting to read)

3. Plaid button-ups or leather jackets?

both, but primarily flannels/plaid buttion-ups

5. Describe your aesthetic

aaahh theres a lot of diff aesthetics i could go into, but i have a tag if ur interested in a visual representation? basically, cosy homes, forests, wooden steps and bridges, cats, girls/nbs, water, plants, and old video game stuff, and clouds/skies. i’m sure there’s more in there, but for a good rule of thumb !! as for like dressing aesthetic, i like to look rly gay + attractive and a lil showy? like my shorts r Short and i love crop tops + a lot of my shirts show my bra thru them, + i like showing it when i can, like sports bra + a tank top is a fav look of mine bc i can make it look like my bra is a trim on the shirt + it’s cute. i’ve been wearing dresses less often, but occasionally, i like to rock one. id love a pair of combat boots but i have like size 11/12 feet + most stores dont carry that size + im hesitant to buy some online. 

7. Favorite pair of shoes?

its rly hard to find any, i have like walmart converse knockoffs atm + theyre a beige/grey color im not that huge on, it kinda reminds me of sandalwood but depressed

9. Any haircut goals for the future? 

there was the undercut!! and i have that down now c: next step is to dye it blue and mb some purple. i wanna bleach it if i’m gonna dye it, but im hesitant to do that bc of how damaging it is, but since my hair’s been cut a cpl time almost all the color is out now, so i think itll b ok if i take good care of it. 

11. Describe the worst date you’ve been on

i went to a cafe w someone (i think they were nb but i cant remember, it was like 2 yrs ago about ) and they were impossible to talk to bc they just kept saying “im awkward sorry” @ everything and like any conversations i tried to maintain were all one-shot responses, and like that was a lil frustrating. like i dont hold it against them or anything, more in a sense of i was rly tryin 2 carry it and just couldnt 

13. If taken, talk about your girlfriend/wife!

whooh i wish i was taken, i need affection + to b cute w someone 

15. Describe your dream wedding

hmmmm i havent thought much about it !! i know when i was younger i wanted to wear a black wedding dress but now im thinkin mb a suit that switches to dress @ the bottom?? that could b cool. I’d be happy w anything tbh, if im getting married, i’d just b happy to be w my wife/spouse. mb somewhere in a forest or on a boat would b cool, defs lots of good food and colorful flowers. I’d like a lot of color, most weddings ive been to are just b/w and bland for my taste (they’ve also all been straight tho so theres that.) it’s kind of wild to think that i might b married someday, but it’d b rly nice. i just haven’t thought much abt the planning of one. it’d b rly gay tho, probs give out tiny gay flags at each seat, and the cake could b lesbian flag colors. im rly drawing a blank on this, but i know id want all my friends around the country + world to be there. 

17. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

i definitely want to live in a port town at some point !! idk where i’d like to settle down, ideally somewhere that doesnt get much hotter than 90 degrees + has lots of parks + is big enough for some events, like pride stuff, little festivals, a farmer’s market, and places to do things, such as a movie theater, bowling alley, mb an aquarium, if not one in a nearby town. hiking trails r also good. 

19. Favorite lesbian novel/story?

on a sunbeam!!! its a huge inspiration for me, and i love it so much. it always puts me in such a good mindset when i read it, and the artist is my age, so it makes me feel like I can also accomplish great things if i rly put my heart into it!! which is such a good feeling, and it has great representation + characters that i love, and its rly gay, and in space and theres ships shaped like fish + its gorgeous : D i could go on for hrs abt it + how important it is to me. theres an nb character too, and like the aspect of found families is one that rly hits home and it helped me get thru a rough time of my life + better accept myself as queer/gay. 

21. Favorite lesbian musician?

adult mom (tho i think they’re bi but still gay), or hayley kiyoko

23. Ever been assumed to be nothing more than a gal pal?

i think so, but i can’t place when, it’s been a bit. 

25. Be positive! What do you like most about being a lesbian?

talking abt being gay w other girls/nbs is lovely and cathartic, i never got to growing up bc i lived in a homophobic town + i was like dealing heavily with internalized homophobia and body/gender dysphoria so i was ace for a bit. talking more abt like sexual attraction + aesthetic attraction is new to me, and that’s been a process to get to, but it’s nice that I can now do so w/o being belittled or barraged by insult. i also just love the thought of being w someone, and daydreaming abt when that happens is really nice. also,, girls + nbs r a blessing and brighten my day and im so glad im attracted 2 them 

27. Turn ons?

absolutely communication, that’s a need. i had a bad experience w someone bc she wasn’t communicative at all, and failed to tell me that we weren’t dating despite us going on several dates + kissing??? like i wont go too into it, but hatchi matchi it was a mess. so yeah, communication, affection, and like reassurance that they actually want to be with me, and that my presence is wanted and enjoyed. I got a lot of “i dont care”s for answers last sort-of relationship, and that was rly discouraging. another turn on is for them to initiate talking and things, like holding hands or planning to hang out + such. consent is another big one. 

29. Do you usually ask other women out or do you wait for them to ask you?

i usually tend to ask them out, but im still dealing w internalized junk, so its difficult. i also havent any situations in which they liked me back, which is frustrating. like i got lead on earlier summer for abt a month until i asked what we were doing + didnt rly get an answer, and it was this whole mess. i generally try to make the first move tho, bc i know firsthand how difficult it is, but that being said, it’s still hard for me to know for sure if theyre interested + i dont wanna make things uncomf w them, so i’ll wait until i think there might b attraction. that being said, once that’s all out of the way, i like to consider myself a good flirt when im trying. 

31. Talk about your interests or hobbies!

i have lots of interests!! im obsessed w steven universe, its my fav show (and if u ever have time, we should totally watch it together sometime, i rly think you’d love it, it’s super gay + heartwarming.) i really love playing music and learning new songs, which im rly great at memorizing. talking to friends + gettin 2 know them better is always nice and fun. i like to draw new things + see the different ways ppl draw, so seeing art on here is always fun for me. i’m also rly into polygon videos (it’s a youtube channel, not like videos abt polygon haha) and this podcast called the adventure zone. season one just ended, so i might start listening to another one called friends at the table. i rly wanna start a podcast w someone, but can never find anyone to start it with. idk what I’d talk abt but if i could find a partner for it, i think it’d be a lot of fun. mb smth abt games or books/queer representation in media. doing a dnd podcast would also b rly fun, but a lot of work + editing so mb later down the road !! im blanking on other interests atm, but animations and cartoons r lovely and i aim to make something in that field one day, if not just a comic.

my hobbies r mostlyyyy drawing, dnd things now every thursday, hanging w my friends, playing video games, sometimes writing (i rly wanna start a comic, and im tryin to get my butt into gear on it), goin to parks, listening to music, and goin 2 events w roe + cesar, two of my friends. sometimes ill play music!! i need to get more than the keyboard i’m lending, but i love performing. ill also watch leg birds on youtube, theyre a lesbian couple that plays gams + theyre rly sweet. 

33. Do you love easily or does it take time for you to warm up to someone?

its easy for me to love friends, doesnt usu take me more than a few months of knowing them if were talking a lot. as for falling in love, that takes me a lot longer. ive never rly been in love w someone. i thought i was once, but rly it was just my first gay experience w someone and i wanted it to be perfect so i projected a lot of things + made it better than it seemed to myself for the duration of it, which wasn’t healthy, so i wanna avoid doing that again, + take things slower next time. or at least for what they are. 

35. Ever fallen for a straight girl?

a few times, they were just crushes tho, so it wasnt too too bad

37. Favorite comfort food?

hot cocoa or tea. as for food food, i dont think i have one. mb french toast or cinnamon rolls. 

39. Vegetarian? Vegan? None of the above?

i used to be a vegetarian!! for like a yr, but it was difficult for me to eat and feel full, and i was pretty underweight, so i stopped. 

41. Early-riser or night-owl?

both, i tend to stay up, but getting up early can be nice if i dont have to do anything. like just gently waking + making some tea and a nice breakfast + sittin around for a bit. 

43. What is your Myers-Briggs type?

enfp-a 

45. At what age did you know you were a lesbian?

i think like 16-17? it took me a bit to get words for identity, like lesbian/nonbinary and the like, but i always knew, like id call myself an individual as opposed to gendered terms that i was referred to, and always felt rly yucky w deadname + the wrong pronouns

47. Are you crushing on anyone at the moment (celebrity or otherwise)?

ive got one crush atm !! and another person who seems nice, but i wanna hang out w before like thinking abt a crush (im poly, which perhaps goes w/o saying, but i always like to state it when talking abt these things, jic )

49. Talk about your dreams/aspirations for the future

i’d like a partner or two, to get some bongos- i got to play some a couple weeks ago, and it was the most fun i’ve had playing anything!! having smth with an instant response that i could make up rhythms with was really rewarding and so much fun. i know i want a cat at some point, to go on cute dates + cuddle and kiss a lot w someone, to visit my friends in other places, dye my hair, get a better job, to travel a bit, make a comic, go to college for animation and storyboarding, mb go to camp at some point, and I’d like to make some more friends here, i’m already making some, which i’m super happy about, but it’s always nice meeting new ppl 

thank u for asking!! this was relaxing + fun, and a lot of the topics were cathartic to talk about, and i needed it. so thanks for listening too kinda

also im queen of commas, i’ve discovered while typing this

[verdigrisprowl]

Apr 26 Blurr’s Horror Stream - V For Vendetta

Prowl didn’t like the movie very much. He thinks it would have been better off if the society was left with the corrupt government and V was shot at the start. Better corruption than anarchy.

Welcome to the 'speedxstealer' room. The chat room has been cleared by the moderator. FakeProwl: *prowl is here early and WAITING on soundwave's couch* Neddles: *Soundwave -thought- he was going to be his usual early self, but apparently someone has beaten him to it. Intrigued and just a (really big) smidge delighted to see this, beelines for his seat.* Neddles: *A number of deployers come in after him, dancing to the music, and scatter.* Neddles: *...Soundwave might be a little suspicious about the song choice, though.* B l u r r: / dragging a cart in behind him on wheels. Grumbling and tugging it to his couch. / Neddles: *Time to assist! Frenzy darts over to the cart and gets pushing from the opposite end.* B l u r r: / flicks finials/ Hn..? Oh, hey. /slides the cart up, with help, to the side of the couch / Neddles: \\WHATCHA GOT THIS TIME?\\ B l u r r: Weapon systems. Neddles: \\FRAG YEAH! MY KINDA CART. WHAT FOR?\\ B l u r r: New upgrades. Possibly. Whirl: *trots in, pausing in the doorway with his head tilted quizzically* Neddles: \\WHIRL! WEAPONS!\\ Points at the cart. Neddles: \\WHATCHA UPGRADIN'? YOU GONNA DO IT HERE?\\ Whirl: That's an unusual pick for--what? *perks up immediately and finishes entering* B l u r r: I might not do it right  here. It's a thought process. B l u r r: / lifts up a turret and looks it over. Hums / B l u r r: (( i almost wrote turtle. )) Whirl: You're tooling up, Teach? *draws up to the cart and looks between it and Blurr* Whirl: ((pdkfd__ Whirl: ((The Battle Turtle)) B l u r r: (( yes good )) B l u r r: Maybe... it's a thought process. Tarantulas: *Tarantulas is summoned by talk of weapons - zoop, down from the ceiling on a line, tiny spide on blurr's shoulder* B l u r r: / reaches a claw up to pat pat the spide / Whirl: *pauses, huffing, and zoops his helm up* ...Tarantulas? Whirl: *that big ole eye is thrust right up on the spide* Tarantulas: *is patted! will stare back at the eye* Yyyyes? Whirl: What the hell. I had no idea you got that SMALL. Tarantulas: I thought I - haven't I told you? Neddles: \\THE SPIDER? WHERE? I DON'T SEE HIM.\\ Neddles: *Frenzy hops about looking* B l u r r: / sets turret down and pulls up part of a missile launcher / Hnnh.... broken. /tosses it back inside / Neddles: Immediately redistracted. \\DON'T GOT REPAIR PARTS?\\ Whirl: If... you had I'd forgotten. Whirl: *shrugs; he doesn't seem alarmed to see Tarantulas. Mostly just surprised* Whirl: Teach! Don't--GIVE ME that. B l u r r: I do... but these aren't MY parts. Whirl: Here, set aside your broken weapons. I can work on them. B l u r r: No, it's mine. I stole it myself. /huff / Whirl: You got a table or something? B l u r r: / he's joking of course / FakeProwl: *oh, is tarantulas over there?* Tarantulas: *jumps off blurr, size up, transform, right in time for prowl to see! yiss* FakeProwl: *of course. of course he's with Blurr. Prowl is beginning to learn that in any given room Tarantulas immediately makes a beeline for the worst person there.* B l u r r: I don't have a table right here right now. B l u r r: / sets missile launcher aside for Whirl / FakeProwl: *Smokescreen. Blurr. Black Shadow. Next he's going to be having dinner parties with Tarn.* Whirl: Then I'll sit on the floor. Pass me 'em. Tarantulas: *worst, u mean the BEST* B l u r r: / excuse. He can be invited to our cannibal dinners / Neddles: *Soundwave nods to Tarantulas. And he'd hope there were no dinner parties with Tarn. He'd be in serious trouble then.* Whirl: *he Tarantulas: Make a pile of whatever none of you want, I'd be more than glad to snag some scraps ~ Whirl: 's gonna plop his *** right there on the ground with no dignity whatsoever, turning the missile launcher over and over*Is this from that universe we went to? Whirl: Where your main squeeze is from? B l u r r: I'm willing to share once I'm done seeing what I need. B l u r r: Main /what/ ? B l u r r: [[ lemme know when youre all ready ]] Neddles: \\SQUEEZE. YER HOT BOT.\\ B l u r r: Er... Neddles: ((ready whenever!)) B l u r r: / see, he has two now. Which one do u mean / Whirl: ((I am!)) Whirl: Roadbuster. Is this from his dimension? Neddles: *Well, if everyone else is going to be distracted, Soundwave's going to take advantage of that and get even more settled than he already was.* Tarantulas: *tara's face is a ??? but he knows he'll never keep up with blurr* B l u r r: Oh, yes. Tarantulas: *HUGE !!!!! FACE* B l u r r: / looks at Tarantulas. Do u wanna sit on the couch with? / Tarantulas: *good thing no one can see it* FakeProwl: ((ready!)) B l u r r: I'm thinking of possibly installing some weapons... well. /He/ was thinking it. Tarantulas: (( reddi whip FakeProwl: *he's gonna. quietly. hot spot his holomatter avatar through whirl* FakeProwl: *this time he remembers to ping a permission request. ... 2 seconds after he already did it.* Whirl: That's what I figured. Looked like it. *still turning it over and over--* HEY. FakeProwl: Sorry, sorry. Whirl: *swivels his helm and fixes him with a slit-eyed stare* Whirl: You forgot, didn't you. FakeProwl: ... I remembered after I did it. Whirl: Same diff. *waves a claw* It's fine. FakeProwl: This is an improvement. I'm improving. Tarantulas: *alright, probably best to just listen to blurr and hear what the roadbuster business is. but no way in heck is tarantulas getting anywhere near touching distance of a telepath rn* Whirl: *and back to the rocket launcher* I've got my cleaning kits on me, but I dunno if the tools in them will elp me with these. You got any for this kinda weaponry? Neddles: *Poor Tarantulas. Everywhere in this room is touching distance of this particular telepath.* B l u r r: Uh... /fishes around in the cart and holds up a kit / FakeProwl: *clearly tarantulas is avoiding him. why is tarantulas avoiding him. what did prowl do. or fail to do.* Neddles: *But he'll refrain.* B l u r r: / Blurr is not by soundwave! / B l u r r: / u can sit by this fool / Tarantulas: *he'll settle on the opposite side of prowl shhhh just have him as a buffer btwn* Neddles: *Well, if nobody else is taking the spot by Blurr, Frenzy will.* FakeProwl: *oh, is he coming over?* Whirl: Excellent! *takes it and sets it on the floor by him* And, I mean, forgetting isn't so bad; everyone does. B l u r r: / glances at Frenzy and smirks a bit / Neddles: \\GUNPOWDER PLOT. I'M ALREADY FOR THIS ONE.\\ Neddles: *But he's going to keep peeking at what Blurr's picking through.* B l u r r: Most of this weaponry is from their junk pile... B l u r r: But, he /insisted/ . Whirl: That's a damn fine gift, Teach. He's a keeper. B l u r r: ... Oh, stop. /mumbles/ Whirl: *he's being utterly sincere this time; not even teasing* B l u r r: / flustered. Twitching claws. / Whirl: *he DOES shoot a sly look to Blurr, but that's as far as he gets this time* Tarantulas: *sitting on floor near prowl now, yis, nodding to soundwave and nudging prowl hello* Neddles: [[He already dislikes the television figure.]] B l u r r: / pulls up another set of turrets / FakeProwl: ((in the first five minutes the VILLAIN of the movie is ranting about Muslims and immigrants and homosexuality. how did the alt-right fuckboys latch onto V as one of their icons lmao)) B l u r r: / twitches finials . Oooh knives / Whirl: *after staring at this thing for, like, ten minutes, Whirl finally sets it down, extrudes his fine manipulators, and begins to methodically disassemble the broken launcher* B l u r r: / his favorite / Whirl: ((IKR)) Neddles: *Rumble scootches forward. Another good fighter who's a good speaker, and therefore, probably a good writer?* B l u r r: [[ there's a guy in my class doing this monologue and im like lmao so many v sounds ]] FakeProwl: *prowl hates how he speaks* Neddles: *Soundwave tilts his helm to one side.* B l u r r: K-KYAHAHAHA!! /wiggles claws / Neddles: [[...Well.]] FakeProwl: *trying to figure out who the bad guy is supposed to be* FakeProwl: *the dude in the mask: on the one hand, he saved the viewpoint character; on the other hand, he blew up a government building. and his speech is annoying.* FakeProwl: *thhhhinks he's on the government's side.* B l u r r: [ lemme know if / when it drops ]] Whirl: *glances up* You got another one of these? Same or similar model? Whirl: I can probably get one workign with the parts from two. B l u r r: Uh... Hn. /fishing through the cart. Holds one out / This is another part of one. Whirl: *plucks it up and sets it aside* Thanks. B l u r r: Mhm... Whirl: *and goes right back to the disassembly; he's dividing his attention between the launcher and the movie* B l u r r: / looking over a turret/ I wonder why he'd want me to even consider these. B l u r r: I absorb shots, I'm not the one shooting Whirl: Because turrets kick ***. Whirl: You should give it a shot. Shooting things is a laugh and a half, Teach. B l u r r: I'm not really a fan... FakeProwl: *yes. definitely against the man with the bombs.* B l u r r: / he's all for rooting for V / Whirl: nICE. Whirl: ((whop)) Neddles: [[Clever, clever.]] Whirl: Ha! Neddles: ((oh my god i just noticed i never changed my name back)) Whirl: ((OMG)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((*coughs into appropriate name*)) FakeProwl: *he's just a Megatron with a fancy accent. A terrorist and a traitor who wants to destabilize the nation, and who will happily kill innocents and assassinate leaders to do it.* B l u r r: K-Kyehehehheh! B l u r r: Look at him! Such a skill with blades, it almost rivals mine. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Will reserve his judgment until he learns more about the society.* Whirl: *These guys remind Whirl of the Functionist, and he is not, regrettably, above killing innocent people in the face of revenge* FakeProwl: *and now he's killing cops.* Whirl: *or letting them get caught in the crossfire when it comes to taking out his enemies* Whirl: *and now he has a myriad of turret parts splayed out neatly in front of him; he gets to work on the second* FakeProwl: *leans on soundwave. quietly takes hand.* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[...Forbidden works.]] Tarantulas: *wait, when did those parts get all over the floor and where did those deedly boppers come from* Tarantulas: *someone was hella distracted apparently* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave curls his fingers tight and leans in.* B l u r r: /vents and sets the turret aside / ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He remembers hearing of so many confiscated pieces.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Buzzsaw makes an angry noise from somewhere above.* B l u r r: I would pay a lot of money for pieces of art, honestly. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\...YEAH? HOW MUCH?\\ B l u r r: Depends on the art. Whirl: *Whirl's already started methodically disassembling another, so if Taratulas cares to look, he'll see the whole process* Tarantulas: *he's definitely leaning over a bit to watch, yep* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave wonders if this human will be wearing his mask for the entire movie, and when he first started.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Buzzsaw floats down toward Blurr.* ItsyBitsySpyers: }}What kind?{{ B l u r r: / flicks finials and glances up / Hn? B l u r r: Well... hnh. I would like a statue of some sort. ItsyBitsySpyers: }}A personal representation?{{ B l u r r: No no... not of me. B l u r r: Of someone... else. ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Who might -that- be, if I may inquire?{{ B l u r r: [[ lmao me, tbh. ] B l u r r: [[ i feel like I tell people that all the time when they ask who i am ]] B l u r r: ... /mumbles/ Optimus Prime of Tyran? Whirl: *HE'S CLOSE ENOUGH TO HEAR THAT* ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Ah, a glorification piece.{{ Whirl: *pauses to glance up with another sly look* B l u r r: / he's adorable! Like a child, this murderer . / B l u r r: Yes, one of those /mumbling / ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Then I, Buzzsaw, offer my considerable artistic services.{{ B l u r r: Ah? Whirl: Can you make the statue animatronic? You know, able to, I don't know... lift its foot? Stomp? RedWhiteScreamer: *Sneering at everyone and everything before taking a seat* B l u r r: .. Stop. RedWhiteScreamer: (Hi :) ) B l u r r: [ hey! ] ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Can I - newspark's play!{{ Whirl: (( o7 )) RedWhiteScreamer: (Got the Matrix on TV also. lol Multi tasking like a pro) B l u r r: I don't want it to step on me. Whirl: *snickers, but does stop, and returns to his work disassembling the turret* This one looks salvageable, Teach. B l u r r: Ah? RedWhiteScreamer: Hm, Blurr could use a mask like that... Whirl: Yep. Give me another... fifteen? Twenty minutes? B l u r r: You could use a knife in the face. FakeProwl: *he talks like a Decepticon* ItsyBitsySpyers: }}If you are truly interested, send me the details and your offer. I will consider it.{{ B l u r r: ... /nods helm/ I'd be glad to. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Floats up to his usual space and resumes watching the movie.* Whirl: How would he show off his teeth if he got a mask like that? RedWhiteScreamer: I'd say so could you, but you've already got several loged in there. B l u r r: Those are my teeth, you twit. RedWhiteScreamer: Teeth, knife, aft, all looks the same on you B l u r r: Oh for pit sake. Whirl: He's got great teeth. RedWhiteScreamer: (much love for these two) B l u r r: Thank you, Whirl. Whirl: *nods; he meant it* RedWhiteScreamer: Coming from a faceless wonder, it's not saying much. B l u r r: / snarls and throws a piece of metal at Starscream / Whirl: Pfft--*glances up from his position on the floo r and swivels his helm over* And somehow, even without a face, I'm not as butt-ugly as you. Whirl: And I'm DESIGNER UGLY. Whirl: I'm SCIENTIFICALLY-ENGINEERED ufly. Whirl: ...*ugly RedWhiteScreamer: *Snorts* Sure thing, whirlybird. Whirl: It's Whirl. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Slowly seeing more reasons why the masked human might choose to do what he is doing.* B l u r r: / pulls up a set of long rifles, but they're broken/ Hnh... Whirl: People can only call me "whirlybird" when I'm the literal bird. ...again. FakeProwl: *still doesn't sympathize.* FakeProwl: *a decepticon fighting a mediocre government and a decepticon fighting a bad government are both decepticons and both worse than whatever the government is up to* RedWhiteScreamer: *Boredly watches the weird humans and their cultures* What a garrish human cloaking. B l u r r: Honestly, I don't know how any of these will fit on my frame. B l u r r: / grumbling and fishing in the cart / RedWhiteScreamer: The pink frilly waist tarp? B l u r r: No, that's something YOU would wear. Whirl: THIS one, I wouldn't recommend. It needs an ammunitin feed and a power supply, and you need all the power you can get. Whirl: Besides, you're built for speed, so bulking you up wouldn't be the BEST idea. RedWhiteScreamer: Hm, no the pink would clash with my red paintwork. B l u r r: pink is a variation of red. Whirl: If you've got anything in there that's light and uses energy-based ammunition, throw it my way. Might work better. RedWhiteScreamer: I wouldn't expect YOU to understand colors. Whirl: And, we both know I'D look the best in that frilly getup. *waves a claw* B l u r r: / vents and looks at whirl / I don't know. I also don't know what exactly he wants to install. Whirl: *he's joking, of course* B l u r r: Why wouldn't I understand colors? I match perfectly. RedWhiteScreamer: *Turns a shade a green imagening Whirl in a frilly pink dress* Whirl: *shrugs; I don't know either. I'll look through your stuff, though, when I'm done here. RedWhiteScreamer: Aw, Blurr, no one has told you? RedWhiteScreamer: Each part of you is just a liiitle off shade. B l u r r: K-Kyehheheh. That's okay. B l u r r: It means that my purple just looks better with another purple. B l u r r: When you mix shades, it makes quite the melody. RedWhiteScreamer: Tch, can't take an insult can you? B l u r r: Oh, I can take them. When they're done the right way. RedWhiteScreamer: (Misterrr Anderson) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Is damned curious about what all this 'what you did' was.* B l u r r: / flickers optic. Aw... she sounded like she meant it, too / FakeProwl: *... her death was an oddly tender scene* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He hopes we will see what is in that journal.]] FakeProwl: I think we are now. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Good. Good.]] Whirl: *eyes the screen warily for a few moments; this could get uncomfortable. Well, he has weapons to distract him* RedWhiteScreamer: *Wings twitch* RedWhiteScreamer: Hm, I thought Earthlings weren't fire proof B l u r r: / pulls up a bundle of wires/ Well, this is pointless. /tosses it back in / Whirl: *and, done with the turret* Okay. Like I said, this won't work without a power supply, or ammunition feed. Mechanically, it's sound, but there's some parts of it that could do with replacing. Whirl: But, it works. *sets the repaired turret aside and starts to gather up all the leftover pieces* What else you got? B l u r r: A few guns. /pulls them out and vents/ B l u r r: What am I supposed to do with all of this? /vents again/ I don't understand why he wants me to look em oer B l u r r: *over Whirl: Because he's a WRECKER, and giving people guns is ROMANTIC. B l u r r: /rolls optic/  It's not my approache. Whirl: Even if YOU don't use them, they'll be valuable to your crew, after all. B l u r r: *approach FakeProwl: *so he survived a disease and he was brought in to help come up with a cure for it, and he blew up the facility? Because he was being experimented on—to SAVE THE POPULATION?* Whirl: Take it from someone who knows. This--*gestures to the cart* Is enough to make any self-respecting person who knows PROPER romance swoon. B l u r r: He didn't GIVE me these, I just salvaged them. B l u r r: He wants to install them on me, I think. Whirl: Oh, well, I thought you said he gave them to you. B l u r r: I mean, he and Topspin have them all over the place. Whirl: Anyway... if there's anything in there you think might be useful to YOU, lemme at it. I could use an actual challenge. *he wriggles all of his horrid deedly-boppers at once. It's a dreadful spectacle* B l u r r: / smirks a little and holds out an RPG looking weapon/ I could install this on my back. Or split it into two and slip them on my waist. B l u r r: The problem is my processor... ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave's quite sure they were designing something. They talked about nuclear power - often part of modern human weaponry - and viruses 'leaving wealth intact'.* RedWhiteScreamer: *Watches the pile of scrap metal sitting beside the pile of broken guns.* Dressing up for a date,? B l u r r: No. I just got back from one. Whirl: OH? B l u r r: Er... Whirl: *SUDDENLY MORE INTERESTED IN BLURR THAN THE GUNS* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[The human female must leave there. Now.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HOLD UP. YOU WAS ON A DATE?\\ Whirl: You went on a DATE? How was it? Where did you go? Did you blow anything up? FakeProwl: Indeed. B l u r r: / flicks finials./ Er, well... no. I mean, we went out on the town in disguise. Whirl: As vehicles? FakeProwl: He's in trouble. B l u r r: ... Ah. Well, sort of. B l u r r: We had to use holoforms for a moment... RedWhiteScreamer: *Watches Blurr now instead* Whirl: Ohh. Whirl: Hey, whatever floats your boat. B l u r r: It was... all right. Whirl: *sly look* Did you have a good time? How romantic is he? Dish, Teach! RedWhiteScreamer: Wait, I haven't heard much from- B l u r r: W-what? FakeProwl: He's going to die for this stunt. Whirl: How did it GO? Whirl: And--yep. Probably. This is why you don't get far unless you start blowing up buildings. Whirl: And tearing apart the oppressive government with your own claws. B l u r r: It went... smoothly. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[This is her second time seeing that.]] B l u r r: well. I mean... /shifts and looks at Whirl and Frenzy/ These humans tried to rob us. Whirl: Did you rough em up? RedWhiteScreamer: *Glances at the screen* Hm, guess we weren't theonly ones with a Senate. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\WHAT WAS THEY STEALIN'?\\ B l u r r: Oh, we did. K-Kyeheheheh. We worked pretty well as a team. Tarantulas: (( ooc i gotta run - assume tara left for an experiment, sry :c B l u r r: / twitches claws/ Whirl: ((seeya! Whirl: Nice. RedWhiteScreamer: (( Just imagined Taran succenly skittering on the clieling)) Whirl: That sounds like a damn good date, Teach. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[What is the purpose of removing the fur?]] Whirl: *gonna rifle around on the cart. He'd rather not watch this closely* FakeProwl: ... Maybe it's a hygiene thing? FakeProwl: They need special soap to wash their fur, and things get tangled in it. RedWhiteScreamer: And Prime wanted to save these things? Whirl: Anything in here energy-based, Teach? FakeProwl: If they cut off all the fur, that's less time and effort they have to spend showering her. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Nods. He sees.* B l u r r: I don't know... one of the guns might be. B l u r r: They weren't stealing anything- I guess they wanted money, I don't know Whirl: ((may I assume whirl finds one?)) B l u r r: But, we wiped them out. Er, well, he didn't let me kill them B l u r r: [[ yeh ]] Whirl: *nods* Sounds like he was being a good Autobot. RedWhiteScreamer: Egh, this is boring. *Stands and dusts himself off* See you never, BLurry. RedWhiteScreamer: ((ttyl bbs!)) B l u r r: [[ byyeee ]] Whirl: ((seeya!)) B l u r r: He was... he always is. Whirl: *at last he pulls out a promising-looking pistol* B l u r r: hmm? ItsyBitsySpyers: *...Ah.* Whirl: *he's turned the pitsol over again and again, and now he starts to disassemble it* B l u r r: Look useful? Whirl: Interesting story. Reminds me a little bit of the way things were. FakeProwl: *is trying to figure out why the Valerie human was taken away* Whirl: God, there's nothing I hate more than Functionists. Mm? *looks up* Dunno yet. Whirl: Still taking it apart. B l u r r: Pit, they remind me of the Decepticons. I mean, more or less. Our Decepticons are a pain. Really focused on keeping things the way they are. Whirl: Waot--so-- Whirl: *wait Whirl: HE did it? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Of course.]] Whirl: ...I'd kill him. FakeProwl: ... HE'S been keeping her locked up?! And—and torturing her, and—?! B l u r r: So she wouldn't be afraid anymore. Whirl: I'm all for tearing down the government, but I'd still kill him. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Where did you think the letter came from? She mentioned the same plants he leaves.]] FakeProwl: *darkest scowl* Whirl: Pfft, now he's trying to make HER feel guilty. B l u r r: Oh come on, human. Whirl: She's just traded one leash for another. Whirl: Grab one of his swords and kill him! B l u r r: /flicks claws / B l u r r: He makes sense to me. Whirl: Yeah, well, I dunno how many years YOU'VE spent in prison, Teach--*removes a piece a bit more violently than is perhaps necessary* Whirl: --but if I ahd the chance to get revenge for everything that was done to ME, I would. B l u r r: / shrugs / Whirl: And I wouldn't waste my sympathy on the fraggers that PUT me there, either. FakeProwl: Oh, come off it you self-absorbed scrap. You spent who-knows-how-long torturing her, you don't get to act like you did her a favor. B l u r r: Depends on what kind of prison you're expecting me to answer about. FakeProwl: He didn't liberate her, he indoctrinated her into a cult. Whirl: *shakes his head curtly* Forget I mentioned it. I don't wanna talk about it. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Absolutely not a fan of that method, but is interested in what will happen now.* Whirl: *snorts; she's not wrong* FakeProwl: *at least she can still recognize that he's a monster* B l u r r: / hahaaaaaaa. Flicks finials. Mumbling to each side / Whirl: Anyway. Unless you've got duplicate parts for this one, I don't think I can salvage this one. B l u r r: I can find some. B l u r r: I have to go back to see him soon anyway. Whirl: Got a datapad? Whirl: I can make a list. B l u r r: Mm... /shifts and holds out one / B l u r r: I'm not sure that he wants these weapons on me anytime soon. B l u r r: I just figured I should match. Whirl: *plucks it up and sets it aside; he gets back to work, tapping out occasional notes as he does* B l u r r: Or maybe he figured- I don't know. They seem uniform in nature. Whirl: Well, even so, might as well do something useful while I'm here. B l u r r: Mm.. ItsyBitsySpyers: *He thought so.* Whirl: *watching the screen raptly again; the deedlies are momentarily still* Whirl: *back to the gun* FakeProwl: *well, the government is probably bad—depending on how much V was lying—but still against V. has seen first hand what people like him lead to.* FakeProwl: *annnd here's the start of it* ItsyBitsySpyers: *So very familiar.* FakeProwl: *scowl darkens* Whirl: That was a well-done scene. Whirl: Good storytelling. FakeProwl: *squeezes Soundwave's hand* B l u r r: Mmhm. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Looks over, curious.* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Bothered? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Too familiar.» ItsyBitsySpyers: //...Not gonna lie, I was sorta expectin' a theme park to blow up or somethin'.// Whirl: Pfft. Did that happen in your dimension? *glances over* B l u r r: / snort / B l u r r: Oh for pit sake, this human is annoying. Kill it. B l u r r: He reminds me of the Quintessons, except angrier. Whirl: Oh, I'd love to see him dead. ItsyBitsySpyers: //One of the first things, yeah. Supposed to be a 'frag you' sign.// ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave squeezes back, then, and nods.* Whirl: Pfft. Whirl: I dunno if they blew up any theme parks in our dimension... *glances back* Prowl? Anyone blow up a theme park in your timeline? FakeProwl: Everything blew up eventually. Whirl: So I gather. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt) Soundwave wonders: This, only way similar problems ended? Whirl: *looks to Rumble* I didn't see any of it firsthand, of course. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «What? In riots and anarchy?» ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Affirmative. If other viable solution ever found. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble's about to open his mouth and ask if Whirl was still in prison. Decides he probably shouldn't.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Course.// Whirl: *he's 100% right, though* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I don't call this a "viable solution."» Whirl: *returns to the gun* B l u r r: I remember when the Decepticons started blowing up buildings. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...What thought better? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «A bad government.» Whirl: Very satisfying. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEAH? WHAT HAPPENED FOR YOU GUYS?\\ Whirl: Now, kill the rest of them. B l u r r: Yes good! Slaughter them all! B l u r r: / looks at Frenzy/ who, me? ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEAH, YOU.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...Cannot agree. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I don't expect you to.» B l u r r: Yes-!! Whirl: Nice. B l u r r: Look how well knives work. B l u r r: My favorite. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Small nod. For that much, at least, he is grateful.* B l u r r: / brilliant! / B l u r r: / looks back at Frenzy/ what, you mean during our war? It was a typical outbreak. I didn't join up until things were mostly established, though. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HOW COME?\\ B l u r r: I was still lecturing in Polyhex when the sparks of war started. B l u r r: Optronix left and returned, renaming himself Optimus Prime. After that, war was inevitable. B l u r r: Megatron wouldn't give iup. B l u r r: *up FakeProwl: *... they didn't start shooting the civilians* Whirl: All right, this one's done. I've put it back together the best I can, and here's what you'll need to fix it. *sets the gun back on the cart and passes the datapad to Blurr* FakeProwl: *sags in relief* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rubs thumb against back of hand.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OPTRONIX? WEIRD NAME.\\ B l u r r: / grabs the datapad/ Thanks. B l u r r: / vents/ He had an odd name before, but it became better. Whirl: *winces* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[...He does have to admit that was the most exciting rendition of that piece he's ever heard.]] Whirl: Interesting movie. B l u r r: More or less. Whirl: Heh. Whirl: Nice wallpaper. B l u r r: / rolls optic / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy wolf whistles.* Whirl: ((brb)) B l u r r: [[ mk ]] B l u r r: / huffs at Frenzy/ What. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy snickers and nudges Blurr.* B l u r r: / rolls optic/  What? ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YA ALWAYS USE YOUR SWEETSPARKS FOR SCREEN SAVIN'?\\ B l u r r: ... No. B l u r r: / sometimes / ItsyBitsySpyers: \\UH-HUH.\\ He just laughs some more and crosses his legs to get comfortable.* B l u r r: It's not ALWAYS someone important. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Dissatisfying ending. Outcome wanted. Whirl: Not a bad shot of him. B l u r r: No, I suppose it's not... Whirl: *also obviously delighting in teasing Blurr* Did he send you this snapshot himself? B l u r r: No... Whirl: A little something to keep you warm on those long, cold, interstellar nights, eh? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «They ended it at the correct point. If it went any farther, it would have to show the riots, the mass murders, the battles, the famine, and the dead in the streets.» FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Instead it ended with soldiers deciding not to shoot civilians. That's the only happy ending it could have had.» B l u r r: It's just something I have. Whirl: *snickers, ferrying the last of the loose parts onto the cart* Anyway. You should let me work on the rest of this stuff. *leans back and slowly extends his legs, one by one, stretching* I know guns. B l u r r: It's not so much the guns that are worrisome, it's the way they will install into my frame. B l u r r: I won't be able to fold them into my armor. Whirl: Then, why get them installed at all? B l u r r: I think he wants me to. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Prowl certain? Present humans not united? B l u r r: Now, I don't usually do what other people tell me, but they're a bigger crowd to work with. ItsyBitsySpyers: *He's not being contrary. This is a topic of some seriousness to him.* B l u r r: Those Tyran mechs are bigger than I am. Whirl: You gonna add them to your crew, or something? ItsyBitsySpyers: \\SO DON'T FOLD 'EM IN. HIS DEADLINESS HAD A BIG OL' CANNON RIGHT ON HIS FRAGGIN' ARM.\\ FakeProwl: @Soundwave «That's how revolutions end. There are still people in power. Those people won't decide to give up power just because two of them died.» FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Even if the former government has completely fallen—the fact that those "united" people agreed that the last government was bad doesn't mean they agree on what a good one looks like.» FakeProwl: @Soundwave «All we know for certain that they agree on is that violence is how to deal with the people who want to establish a government they don't want.» B l u r r: / snort at frenzy/ B l u r r: more like... the other way around ItsyBitsySpyers: *Mildly frustrated air puff.* Whirl: *tilts his head. Give him a second* Whirl: *hops up* You're gona roll with them for a while? FakeProwl: *concerned sideways glance. too far? should prowl shut up?* Whirl: Teach, may I make a music request, while I'm hangin out? B l u r r: ... Pardon? B l u r r: Roll with- wait, what? Whirl: A song. B l u r r: What for? Whirl: And I promise, this isn't me poking fun at you. It's just a song I like. B l u r r: It depends...? Whirl: *pings it* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt) Cannot trust, accept failed government. Violent revolution end... yours, own Cybertron situation. Sincere desire: joint work effort succeeds, functional society produced.-- ItsyBitsySpyers: Other action option not known if failed. Whirl: No big deal if you can't. Anyway... what were we talking about. Oh, yeah--'Buster taking you on? Wrecker consultant or something? B l u r r: Uhm... /fiddling with claws / B l u r r: [[ lmao i totally forgot I like. OWN that song. ]] Whirl: *perks up* Thanks, Teach. B l u r r: Mm. Whirl: ((A GOOD SONG)) ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...Population, society salvage: important. Also tiring. Age beyond age felt. B l u r r: [[ YES INDEEDY ]] B l u r r: / twisting claws together and cracking the joints/ Not exactly a consultant... Whirl: *tilts his head again; he's tapping his foot to the song* Whirl: *lightbulb, AT LONG LAST* Wait--d'you mean--did he pop the question? THE question? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... Mm. Yes. It is important. But if things go wrong again—another revolution and another war aren't the way to salvage them. They're the way to end them.» Whirl: *ZOOP* Did he--did Roadbuster ask you to JOIN? ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HOLD UP. CAN HE DO THAT?\\ Whirl: If he's the leader, he can. B l u r r: / slight noise / Whirl: Well--that's the way it worked here, anyway. Whirl: *if Blurr doesn't dodge it he's gonna get whapped on the shoulder with a claw* Quit being coy, you walking skidplate! Spit it out! B l u r r: / flicks finials/ Ah... Whirl: *snorts and shoots a deadpan glance to Frenzy* One thing;s for sure, if he DID, he didn't recruit Blurr for his oratory skills. B l u r r: Oh, shut up! ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl:(txt): Affirmative. New war unwanted. Revolution thoughts - other planets, timelines. Not own, Prowl's. Already done. Rebuilding needed. Desired better pre-war solution recipient: others. B l u r r: / vents and faceplate is heated / B l u r r: He might have, in a round about way, asked me. Whirl: *WHAPS again* Lord, was that so hard? If you can't even SAY it, you wimp--! B l u r r: / scowls/ Whirl: *whaps YET AGAIN, HARDER, but this time there's enthusiasm behind it, and his optic curves into a gleeful curve* Congrats! Whirl: I mean, you'd BETTER accept. Being asked to join the Wreckers is--it's the best, mech. Whirl: You won't regret it. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «We should be looking for a best-case-scenario Cybertron, I suppose.» B l u r r: / grumbles/ B l u r r: It's a lot more than that. Whirl: How so? B l u r r: They defend the humans. Whirl: And...? B l u r r: I would rather kill them. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... Hm. A year ago, Pipes told me he was looking for a universe that was better off than ours.» Whirl: I'm assuming they're not going to defend the specific humans that attacked Autobots on the planet. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Assurance: Soundwave looking all years since defection. None seen. Until located, post-war salvage best attempt. B l u r r: No, but I dislike humans all the same. Whirl: And please, you're gonna let a little hang-up like that stop you? Pathetic. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I thought it was a... silly, utopian notion—a universe where Cybertron is unambiguously better off, not just subjectively. But it's a year later and I still keep thinking about it.» Whirl: I'm telling you, you join the Wreckers, they're gonna be the best damn years of your life. Take it from someone who knows. B l u r r: / scowls at Whirl / B l u r r: It isn’t a little “hang-up” Whirl: Yes, it is. ItsyBitsySpyers: *…That’s unexpected. He rearranges himself to get a better look and nod. Go on; he’s listening.* B l u r r: No, it isn’t. Whirl: Then lay it out for me. FakeProwl: *no, that’s it. his point’s finished.* B l u r r: I don’t like humans for a REASON. B l u r r: You KNOW the reason. Whirl: Because it seems like a stupid thing to get caught up on, if you’re just feeling pis sy because the humans you’re protecting are the same species as the ones who screwed you over. ItsyBitsySpyers: \AW, C'MON. YA GOTTA SAVE LIKE. A COUPLE FLESHIES. THEY MAKE GREAT HORROR FILMS.\ B l u r r: / crosses arms and just vents / B l u r r: Forget it. Whirl: *snorts, but, shockingly, does back off on the humans thing* Whirl: Regardless… *raises his claw, as if to whap, but instead nudges* It’s good. Whirl: I think that’s it. B l u r r: / rolls optic / Whirl: How do you even–what is it that people say at times like this? “I’m happy for you?” B l u r r: Their family… they’re not gonna like me. B l u r r: / mumbles and rubs his abused shoulder / B l u r r: It doesn’t matter anyway. I already told him my answer. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Prowl might think his point’s finished, but he’s sparked a bit of curiosity.* @Prowl: (txt): Memory revisitation reason? ItsyBitsySpyers: \WHADJA SAY?\ Whirl: That’s how it works. Whirl: Not at first, probably, but knock em around a bit, get into a few life-or-death scrapes, and pry enough bullets out of each other, and you’ll warm up to one another. Whirl: *ZOOP* And? FakeProwl: @Soundwave «… I don’t know.» B l u r r: and what? Whirl: *whaps* You KNOW what, knucklehead. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I mean—I know right now. Right now, it’s because we’re talking about finding a Cybertron that went better than ours. But in general, I don’t know.» B l u r r: / scowls and swats back at him jokingly/ I told him yes! Forpit sake… knock it off. Whirl: *sways dramatically under the hit and snickers* THOUGHT so. Whirl: But trust me–you won’t regret it. Whirl: Look, I get it–you’re feeling conflicted. A lot of mecha do, I mean, not just for the reasons you do. Whirl: ((…swap those two)) B l u r r: It’s different with me for many reasons… FakeProwl: ((did it just refresh for anyone else?)) Whirl: It’s different for everyone. Whirl: ((not me :|a)) FakeProwl: ((CAN SOMEBODY SEND ME THE LOG THEN PLEASE)) Whirl: But like I said--best years of your life. Nothing else comes close. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((can do)) FakeProwl: ((my record goes up to "B l u r r: / scowls at Whirl /")) B l u r r: I'm not moving in with him... FakeProwl: ((thank)) ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): ...In utopia, Prowl rests. Whirl: Well, obviously, you've got to stay with your crew. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): This - current plan, old plan, all - not needed. Weight gone. Whirl: But it's--you know. It's a thing. *you were handed a place to belong ona  silver platter, Blurr; it doesn't get better than that* B l u r r: Aside from that, there's new alliances. B l u r r: A new map. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\I HEARD NEW MAP.\\ Whirl: Yep... *simulates a loud sniff and mimes wiping a single tear from his optic* I can't believe it. Teach, growin' up. Whirl: And joining the Wreckers. B l u r r: ... oh stop. /fiddling with claws / B l u r r: There's just one... tiny problem. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «... There are a lot of scenarios where I rest. Starscream dying. Somebody writing a highly sympathetic tell-all book about my life that makes me out to be a hero. Cybertron exploding.» Whirl: I'm never going to stop, and you're going to have to learn to accept it. Whirl: Damn, Blurr. You really got it all going for you, don't you? A damn sight better than you used to. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I don't linger on THOSE phantasms.» Whirl: *nudges, and there is even a hint of sincerity in his voice* Good goin'. B l u r r: ... What do you mean? B l u r r: / looks confused / B l u r r: / but smirks just a bit / B l u r r: Maybe you guys can come over sometime. It's not my place to invite mechs over, but... you know. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt) This, -perfect- rest. That, utopia basis. Constructicons gone. Enemies gone. Personal struggles eased. Freedom owned. Whirl: If you ever need a chopper to help you blow stuff up again, feel free to call me in. I'm an expert. I can be your ***-kicking consultant. B l u r r: K-Kyeheheeh. Yeah, I suppose. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «Finding a universe where everything had gone right wouldn't neutralize my enemies or pull the Constructicons out of my mind.» B l u r r: We'll have to see what storm the planet brings us Whirl: *salutes* Keep me updated. And let me know when you need more stuff don with these--*gestures to the gun cart* Whirl: Gives me something to do. ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Negative. However, imagining self there since beginning: appealing. That, personal theory. Perhaps Soundwave: wrong. Possible. Idea only. B l u r r: … I haven’t told him about the weaponry and my processor. B l u r r: I don’t know if it’s going to last, but I can try. Little by little. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I haven’t been imagining myself there since the beginning.» Whirl: …@Blurr: it might not. Good things rarely do. ItsyBitsySpyers: \UH. YEAH, MAYBE I'MMA RAINCHECK YA ON THE VISIT A WHILE. EX-CON. Y'KNOW.\ Whirl: @Blurr: So enjoy it while you can. B l u r r: So what, Frenzy? They don’t care. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I’ve just been thinking about Pipes’s search for a universe like that.» ItsyBitsySpyers: *Really? Surprising. He nods and accepts his correction.* B l u r r: @Whirl: Don’t know how well that’ll go. Whirl: *shrugs in response* ANYWAY… I’m going to go on. B l u r r: Yet, I admit… /presses claws on his scarred jaw/ He has this way with violence that tears limbs from sockets and it’s absolutely perfect. Whirl: Seriously, Teach. *pauses. And then suddenly LASHES OUT IN ANOTHER PLAYFUL WAP* Good going. B l u r r: / makes a noise and swats back at / Whirl: *snickers* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «… I don’t understand how people can do that—fantasize about history having gone differently.» FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I’d think that the more mentally elaborate the alternate history becomes, the more bitter and disappointing reality becomes.» Whirl: Later, losers. *waves to Blurr and the gathered mecha* If you wanna take advantage of bing tangible, Prowl, better do it now. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy waves* FakeProwl: … Hm. B l u r r: / waves claw/ FakeProwl: *leans head over for crest tap?* B l u r r: / fiddling with claws. Looks at Frenzy/ Anyway… B l u r r: You should come over again. I found a new map. ItsyBitsySpyers: *More than willing to indulge that. Might ping Whirl a thank-you.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \WHERE’S IT GO?\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \AIN’T ANOTHER THUNDERTRON, IS IT? I WAS PICKIN’ PIECES OUTTA MY SPINES FOR DAYS.\ Whirl: *he’ll pause in the doorway long enough for it to happen, throw one last salute, and trot off* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): In cell, living death, reality already bitter, disappointing. History divergence scenarios: appealing. *A pause.* Prowl not all wrong. Later, escape, vengeance scenarios preferred. B l u r r: No no… Thundertron is good and dead. B l u r r: I don’t know where it goes. That’s the fun. ItsyBitsySpyers: \HOW DO YA KNOW IT AIN’T GONNA BLACK HOLE YA?\ B l u r r: What’s the fun in knowin? The fun of piracy is never knowing where you’re going, just knowing what you’re chasing B l u r r: Besides… I’m confident that there is no black hole. FakeProwl: @Soundwave «… I’ve never been able to find solace in fantasies. Any solace in any context. Past divergences, future hypotheticals—even at my lowest moments.» FakeProwl: @Soundwave «I think I’m not wired for it.» ItsyBitsySpyers: \YEAH? THEN WHATCHA PLANNIN’ TO DO?\ ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl: (txt): Different. Interesting. What done, in lowest moment? Where found, solace? B l u r r: Just see what’s on the other side… to find the treasure. B l u r r: Maybe fight. K-Kyeheheheh. FakeProwl: *a long, long silence* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy “whispers”.* \CAN I COME?\ FakeProwl: *the silence is still going* B l u r r: / smirks and leans over. Whisper / Yes, of course. Actually, I have a question for you. ItsyBitsySpyers: *…Uncertain shift. Should he not have asked that? He doesn’t know what’s wrong with the questions, but…* FakeProwl: @Soundwave «………………………. Magnets help.» ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy scoots in and wiggles in excitement.* B l u r r: How would you /motions to Frenzy/ Like to be a member of the crew ? Officially? You don’t have to travel with us, but you’ll be considered an alliance. You’ll be someone who will be invited on- B l u r r: every hunt. And allowed on the ship whenever you like. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave is suddenly 300x more glad he thought to have Tarantulas smuggle some to Prowl during the prison stay.* ItsyBitsySpyers: \…NO KIDDIN’?\ B l u r r: No kidding. ItsyBitsySpyers: *A loud, loud whoop. That’s a yes.* FakeProwl: *winces* B l u r r: K-KYeheheheh. / reaches into subspace and motions for Frenzy to come over / ItsyBitsySpyers: *If he scoots much closer he’ll stab Blurr with all his pointy bits. But he’ll scoot a little more.* ItsyBitsySpyers: @Prowl (txt): Noted. Much explained. … Personal collection, Soundwave’s. B l u r r: / go ahead. Pain is invited./ Here. /holds out a metal symbol. It is their pirate symbol. / B l u r r: For you to carry so my crew knows you. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy glances around, snatches the symbol, and stuffs it right into his subspace with a grin.* B l u r r: / smirks/ B l u r r: Welcome to the Skeleton Crew’s alliance. B l u r r: They like you, you know. The crew. ItsyBitsySpyers: \THAT IS THE COOLEST FRAGGIN’ NAME.\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \YEAH?\ B l u r r: K-Kyeheheheh. You like that? B l u r r: / nod nod / Yes. Dart especially liked you and your abilities. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Proud puff up* B l u r r: / smirks/ And I like you. I think you’re all interesting. B l u r r: But you. You helped find Thundertron. It’s only right you get to be part of the crew. ItsyBitsySpyers: \…I DON’T GOTTA BE PART OF THE SHIP THOUGH, RIGHT? LIKE THEM MOVIES WITH THE FEELER-FACE FLESHIE.\ B l u r r: No no… that’s for the mechs we kil. B l u r r: *kill ItsyBitsySpyers: \GROSS.\ He snickers though. \KAY. I’M HONORED TO BE ACCEPTIN’, SIR.\ B l u r r: …/smirks / Captain. ItsyBitsySpyers: \UH, RIGHT. CAP'N.\ B l u r r: / nod nod/ So, you’re always invited. B l u r r: Of course, if Soundwave lets you. ItsyBitsySpyers: \COURSE. BOSS FIRST, ‘N ALL THAT. CAN’T BE NO OTHER WAY.\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \I GOTTA HURRY UP 'N GET BACK THOUGH.\ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Darts back over to Soundwave. The others follow shortly after.* FakeProwl: *Soundwave's about to leave? a farewell ping* ItsyBitsySpyers: *He starts to give another crest bump, realizes he can't, realizes he CAN but probably shouldn't do that here for something so small, and gives one as best he can to a non-solid hologram anyway.* FakeProwl: *fuzzy non-bump* ItsyBitsySpyers: (txt): Must continue apartment upgrade, check Ravage Metroplex progress. ItsyBitsySpyers: (txt): Will see next opportunity.  *Rises.* FakeProwl: *nods* See you next time. FakeProwl: *disappears*