#Digital Position Sensors

[mastergarryblogs]

Unveiling the Power of Position Velocity Feedback Transmitter Systems in Modern Industries

Introduction: The Importance of Position and Velocity Feedback Systems in Precision Control

Position and velocity feedback transmitter systems are integral to industries that demand high-precision control and motion tracking. These systems are employed to monitor the position and velocity of moving objects in real-time, providing critical data for automated operations. The evolution of these systems has been significant, with advancements in technology enabling more compact, accurate, and reliable feedback mechanisms that drive automation, robotics, aerospace, automotive, and healthcare applications.

With the global shift towards increased automation, the demand for such systems is on the rise. Industries across the board require precise control of machinery, vehicles, and robots to enhance performance, improve safety, and optimize productivity. The growing need for smart manufacturing, autonomous vehicles, and medical robotics underscores the vital role these systems play in modern industries. Despite some challenges, such as high upfront costs and integration complexities, the long-term benefits of precision, efficiency, and reliability outweigh these hurdles.

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Position Velocity Feedback Transmitter Systems Market Dynamics: Drivers, Challenges, and Opportunities

Drivers of Growth

The Position Velocity Feedback Transmitter Systems market is experiencing robust growth driven by several key factors:

Advancements in Automation and Robotics: Industries across manufacturing, automotive, and aerospace are increasingly adopting automation technologies. These systems allow for faster, more accurate control, driving the need for precise position and velocity feedback.

Technological Advancements in Sensors: Innovations in sensor technology, particularly in digital systems, are facilitating the development of more accurate and miniaturized position velocity feedback systems. The integration of Internet of Things (IoT) technologies is making these systems smarter and more adaptable, driving their adoption in industries such as healthcare, smart manufacturing, and autonomous vehicles.

The Rise of Industry 4.0: Industry 4.0 technologies are revolutionizing production lines, with automation and data-driven decisions at their core. Position velocity feedback systems play a critical role in enabling smarter, more efficient manufacturing processes.

Emerging Applications in Healthcare and Autonomous Vehicles: In healthcare, robotic surgeries and diagnostics systems demand highly accurate motion control, while autonomous vehicles require precise feedback systems for safe operation. Both sectors are driving significant demand for position and velocity feedback systems.

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Challenges to Position Velocity Feedback Transmitter Systems Market Adoption

Despite the promising growth, several barriers could slow the widespread adoption of position velocity feedback transmitter systems:

High Initial Investment Costs: The cost of acquiring and integrating high-precision position velocity feedback systems can be prohibitive, especially for small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs). High upfront costs can deter organizations from upgrading or adopting these systems, limiting market expansion.

Complexity of System Integration: Integrating new feedback systems with existing infrastructure and machinery can be complex and time-consuming, especially in industries that have legacy systems. This complexity increases the time to market and may discourage immediate adoption.

Specialized Training Requirements: The operation, calibration, and maintenance of advanced position velocity feedback systems require highly specialized knowledge and skills. The shortage of skilled labor in these fields may hinder growth, particularly in developing regions.

Key Opportunities

Several emerging trends present substantial opportunities for the growth of the position velocity feedback transmitter systems market:

Smart Manufacturing: As manufacturing processes become increasingly automated, there is a growing demand for position velocity feedback systems to enhance productivity and reduce human error. These systems are integral to improving the efficiency of production lines and ensuring consistent product quality.

Healthcare Robotics: Surgical robots, diagnostic devices, and rehabilitation technologies require real-time motion control. The healthcare sector’s increasing reliance on these technologies provides a substantial opportunity for the growth of high-precision position feedback systems.

Autonomous Vehicles: The rapid development of autonomous vehicles (AVs) hinges on accurate motion tracking and feedback systems for safe navigation. As the demand for AVs increases, so too will the demand for position and velocity feedback transmitters that ensure precise vehicle control.

Position Velocity Feedback Transmitter Systems Market Segmentation and Analysis

By Type

The position velocity feedback transmitter systems market can be divided into two key types:

Position Feedback Transmitter: This sub-segment is expected to dominate the market, driven by the increasing demand for precision in industrial automation applications. Position feedback transmitters provide accurate location tracking, ensuring the correct placement of components in automated systems.

Velocity Feedback Transmitter: While this segment is smaller, it is growing rapidly due to the need for precise speed control in applications such as robotics, aerospace, and automotive industries.

By Technology

Analog Systems: While still in use, analog systems are being increasingly replaced by more sophisticated digital feedback systems that offer greater accuracy and scalability.

Digital Systems: Dominating the market, digital systems provide real-time, highly accurate feedback for a range of applications, particularly in industries like automotive, aerospace, and healthcare. The continued innovation in sensor technology and integration with IoT is expected to fuel further growth in this segment.

By Application

The demand for position and velocity feedback systems spans a variety of industries:

Industrial Automation: Expected to maintain the largest market share, industrial automation continues to be the leading driver of demand for precise motion control systems. These systems are integral to ensuring the accuracy and speed of machinery in sectors such as manufacturing and material handling.

Aerospace and Defense: Aerospace applications require high-precision feedback systems for tasks such as flight control, navigation, and satellite positioning.

Automotive: As automotive systems become more automated, the demand for position and velocity feedback systems grows. These systems ensure precise vehicle control in autonomous and semi-autonomous driving technologies.

Energy: The energy sector, particularly in renewable energy systems, requires high-performance motion control to optimize energy production and distribution.

By Region

The market is geographically diverse, with distinct growth patterns across various regions:

North America: Dominating the market, North America is poised to continue leading the position velocity feedback transmitter systems market due to its advanced industrial sectors, including aerospace and automotive.

Asia-Pacific: The Asia-Pacific region is expected to witness the highest growth rate, driven by rapid industrialization and the increasing adoption of automation technologies in countries like China and India.

Europe: Europe’s strong automotive and industrial automation sectors will continue to contribute to the growth of this market.

Latin America and Middle East & Africa: While smaller markets, the demand for these systems is expected to rise as industries in these regions embrace automation and robotics.

Position Velocity Feedback Transmitter Systems Market Competitive Landscape

Key Players

The market for position velocity feedback transmitters is highly competitive, with several industry leaders at the forefront:

Pepperl+Fuchs: Known for its next-generation sensors, Pepperl+Fuchs continues to innovate with solutions tailored to the needs of the automotive and industrial automation sectors. The company launched new high-performance sensors aimed at enhancing precision in harsh industrial environments in 2024.

Temposonics: Specializing in digital feedback systems, Temposonics has made significant strides in the robotics and aerospace sectors. Their advanced systems offer real-time position and velocity tracking, catering to industries that demand high-speed and high-accuracy solutions.

Other Key Players: Other companies in this market include Balluff, Siemens, and Honeywell, each offering various solutions across different applications, from industrial automation to healthcare.

Emerging Trends in Competition

Integration of IoT: Manufacturers are increasingly integrating IoT technologies into their position velocity feedback systems to enhance data collection, improve connectivity, and enable predictive maintenance.

Customization and Tailored Solutions: Companies are focusing on providing customized solutions for specific industries to cater to the unique needs of sectors such as automotive, aerospace, and healthcare.

Sustainability Initiatives: With growing environmental concerns, companies are developing energy-efficient systems that not only meet performance requirements but also adhere to sustainable production practices.

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Conclusion:

The Position Velocity Feedback Transmitter Systems Market is on a rapid growth trajectory, driven by advancements in automation, robotics, and sensor technologies. The demand for high-precision motion control systems is intensifying as industries seek to improve efficiency, safety, and productivity. Despite challenges such as high initial costs and integration complexities, the opportunities presented by emerging applications in healthcare, autonomous vehicles, and smart manufacturing are substantial.

With continued innovation and a focus on integration with IoT and digital technologies, the market is well-positioned for long-term expansion. As the industrial landscape continues to evolve, the role of position and velocity feedback systems will be pivotal in shaping the future of automation and precision control across various sectors.

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[ms-demeanor]

So you know absolutely positively nothing about photography

Cellphone cameras are fucking great. I love them. I love the ability to take photos whenever and wherever at basically zero cost.

Point-and-shoot cameras have always been awesome and accessible devices.

This is not a post shit-talking "basic" cameras. This is a post for people who have only ever used basic cameras who want to know at least slightly more about photography.

Because, the thing is, a remarkable amount of photography is math. And if you don't know it's math, it looks like a mystery. And you may be standing there snapping a photo with your phone that looks pretty good, but your friend with a DSLR looked at the sky, twisted a dial, and took three steps to the left and they took a photo of the same subject that looks like it belongs on a magazine cover.

How did they do that?

Probably math.

If you've come into possession of a DSLR camera and are disappointed that the photos you're taking aren't looking like the photos you thought came from DSLRs, I'm here to tell you about the math you may not know about.

What is a photograph?

At its most basic, a photograph is the result of light on a sensor. Let's consider a pinhole camera for a moment. A pinhole camera is a lightproof box with a piece of photographic paper on one side and a tiny hole in the other.

When you create a photo with a pinhole camera, you're using pretty much all of the math you would in a big fancy camera, just in a cruder form they are:

The sensitivity of the paper, film, or camera sensor to light (this is your "ISO" if you're using a digital camera or film). Light sensitivity can be easily changed on a digital camera, but on chemical-treated paper or film the sensitivity is predetermined and cannot be changed. If you want to change the ISO on an analog camera, you need to change the medium that's being exposed.

An opening to let light in - your F-stop, or aperture. The F-stop of a photo is how wide open the lens is to let light onto your film or sensor. In a pinhole camera, you have something that is theoretically a very very large F-stop because you have a very, very tiny opening to let light through (F-stops run in reverse - the bigger the number, the smaller the opening).

Exposure - your exposure is the amount of time you leave your sensor open to the light. The majority of photos you see in the world have exposure times that are measured in tiny fractions of a second, sometimes in thousandths of a second. If you're using photo paper in your pinhole camera, you may have an exposure time of minutes rather than tiny portions of a second, but your photo exposure will still depend on how long you want to leave your "lens" open.

Focal length - your focal length is a description of the relationship of the distance between the light source and the light sensor. You can manipulate this in a pinhole camera by making the camera longer or shorter. A larger focal length means a narrower field of view - it zooms in on the subject.

A pinhole camera is the simplest camera that lets you, the photographer, control all of the elements of a photo. This is, functionally, fully manual photography.

So what's the difference between all that and a cellphone camera?

Point-and-shoot cameras like those on cellphones give the user more limited control over these settings. For instance, think of a disposable camera. On a disposable camera, the photographer has control over one setting - the ISO of the film, which they can select at purchase. They can't control how wide the lens opens or how long it stays open, and the only way they can compensate for lighting that is a poor match to the ISO is flash.

Cellphone cameras are very much like a standard point-and-shoot. By default, users point their cameras, then shoot a photo. Many cellphones have a "pro" mode that will allow the user to emulate different ISOs or f-stops, but the sensors in cellphone cameras aren't as good as the ones in camera-cameras, and the lenses are very limited as well. Some cellphone cameras and point-and-shoot digital cameras WILL allow users to set longer exposures, and many cellphone cameras have multiple lenses which does allow for some lens effects, but they don't give a huge amount of control to the user.

Okay so let's say I've got my new shiny camera, what do I need to know?

For best results, you want your ISO to match the light you're shooting in. Low ISO is for bright light, high ISO is for low light. If you wanted to take snapshots of your family outdoors at disneyland in the summer, you'd buy 100 ISO film. When I used to shoot football games at night in oddly lit stadiums, I'd use 1600 ISO film. If you have a DSLR camera, there's a setting somewhere in there that tells you how to set the ISO. If you are shooting in relatively low light and the photos are turning out darker than you'd like *but* things are moving too quickly to use a longer exposure, you can bump up your ISO for brighter, sharper images but they will be more noisy and grainy than ones shot at a lower ISO. If you want clean, smooth, crisp images, your goal should be to shoot with the lowest ISO possible.

The Aperture of your camera lens determines your F-Stop. This acts like the pupils of your eyes. When it's really really bright out, your pupils shrink down to let in less light. When it's darker out, your pupils get bigger to let in more light. If you are shooting in low light, you want a low F-Stop, which means that your camera's lens is open really wide. If you are shooting in a bright environment, you want a higher F-Stop, which will mean the opening is very small. Since your F-stop interacts with the focal length of your lens, you will find that zooming in with the lens often makes images darker. To shoot clear images from far away, you need to be very conscious of your F-stop, your ISO, and ambient lighting conditions.

Exposure describes the length of time you set the camera to leave the aperture open. In many DSLRs this can span from 1/3200th of a second to infinitely long (the "bulb" setting means "aperture is open until you close it.") If you want sharp images of frozen motion, you want the fastest speed that you can get. Sports photography and photography of things like insects or milk crowns often use extremely short exposures to get sharp images. If you want blurry images you want slower speeds. If you want to take a photo in a low-light environment and capture motion within that environment - for instance, taking photos of cars on a freeway at night - you want slower speeds (if you want to do this in a brighter environment, like taking photos of a stream in the daytime, you want slower speeds and a specific kind of lens filter called a neutral density filter). When exposures are set to be longer than about 1/60th of a second, images with motion start to look blurry.

Focal Length determines the field of view of your subject. If you have a lens with variable focal lengths, this is called a zoom lens. A longer focal length zooms you in and a shorter focal length zooms you out. Lenses with fixed focal lengths are called prime lenses, and can't zoom in or out.

Depth of Field - your depth of field is a combination of the interaction of your focal length, your distance from your subject, and your F-stop. The depth of field describes the relative amount of space in a photograph that is in focus. A long depth of field means that much of the image plane is in focus. A short depth of field means that a narrow portion of the image plane is in focus. A low F-stop produces a narrow depth of field. A long focal length produces a narrow depth of field.

You can think of your camera as a tool that measures time and space. Your ISO and Exposures are measurements of time (how quickly the sensor senses the light, how long the sensor is exposed to the light), the F-Stop and the focal length are measurements of space (how wide the aperture of the camera is, how far the lens is from the sensor).

The pre-set modes on your camera, the ones on the dial that show a person running, flower, or a cloud, or a lady with a hat - these are generic settings that combine an ISO, exposure time, and f-stop that are likely to work well for outdoor action shots, landscape photography, cloudy light, and portraits. When you're using those pre-set modes, you control the focal length and not much else.

When you understand that the running person/action mode means low-ish ISO combined with high shutter speeds, you can start just setting your own ISO and shutter speed when you're shooting sports. When you know that portrait mode sets you up for low-ish f-stops, relatively quick shutter speeds, and mid-range ISOs, you can just start setting those things on your own so you can have more control.

"What about light metering?"

Since your camera is a machine that records light, light metering is pretty important. The light meter of your camera will tell you if your settings are "correct" for the amount of that the light sensor senses. In most modern cameras there is a light metering display on the bottom edge of the viewfinder that goes from negative to positive; if the meter shows that you are in the negative it means that your photo will be under-exposed (too little light will get to the sensor and the image will appear dark), if the meter shows that you are in the positive it means that your photo will be over-exposed (too much light will get to the sensor and the image will appear too bright - "blown out"). The way to correct for under or over exposure is to change the length of the exposure, making it longer for underexposed images and shorter for overexposed images.

What the light meter is doing is thinking about all of your settings and the lighting for you. It looks at the ISO, focal length, f-stop, light hitting the sensor, and planned exposure time and tells you what that combination of settings is likely to produce - something too bright, or something too dark.

When you are more experienced with photography, you get good at juggling these things on the fly and messing around with them more, which is how you can do the magic of looking at the sky, twisting a dial, taking three steps to the left, and knocking it out of the park with a picture.

It only looks like magic because you're doing a ton of math under the hood that is extremely non-obvious to people who are new to photography.

Anyway, here is a good guide to depth of field and what goes into it.

Here is a basic photography textbook that explains the principles that I've gone over here in a lot more detail with a lot better explanations. It's a film photography textbook, but one of the cool things about photography is that a lot of stuff from the analog era is still relevant in the digital area, and the basics haven't changed.

However all of that is about the *technical* aspects of photography. Photography isn't just a record of exposure time and focal length, so here's a basic photo composition textbook that talks about the artistic principles of photography.

[rabotimagines]

jealous cons sounds really funny, especially if they can't do anything but mald

TOP DECEPTICON MALDERS LETS GOOOO!

"Hero" GN BOT Reader x Megatron, Starscream, Blitzwing, Skywarp

Summary: Your friends save you from the Decepticons. The cons get pissed they missed another chance at you! Then you even kiss your friend on the cheek in thanks! (Scandalous, I know.)

G1 characters: Megatron, Starscream, Blitzwing, Skywarp. (The Autobots that save Reader are Optimus, Bluestreak, Tracks, and Hound!)

Genre/Theme: Cross faction Jealousy

Warnings: Blitzwing is a menace and mentions thinking of ripping readers' modesty panel off. It doesn't happen, but y'know. The Decepticons being brats experiencing being told "No" for the first time (The Cons are malding real bad). The cons generally assuming they have a "right" to Reader.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: This is based on teasing/flirty Autobot Reader, whom the Decepticons get a bit too interested in. Reader knows what they're doing and they do it specifically to fuck with the Decepticons. Via kissing your Autobot friends on the cheek!

Megatron is mad- he's not just mad he is furious when Prime, the fool that he is, puts himself between you and Megatron. Now, if it was any of the other puny Autobots, Megatron would not have cared nearly as much. Because to Megatron, the average Autobot mech meant nothing. They were measly target practice to him! But Prime? Optimus Prime was not any mere mech! He was the slagging closest Megatron would come to finding an equal, let alone out on this rock.

But Prime saves you as he does- the withering sparkdamn fool. And Megatron finally nearly had you in his grasp, and Prime had to come and rip you away from him. Megatron has to pull himself back up to find Prime still holding you against his own frame. "My hero!" You say as you smile the blasted way you do when you look at the other Autobots and you- Megatron can not hide his scowl when you throw your arms around Primes frame and kiss him on the side of his battle mask. Primes optics brighten and widen, and his sparkdamned plating even fluffs under your affections.

Megatrons cannon starts humming loud in response to his own emotional receptors and his own blindly consuming urge to shoot then and there. But Megatron knows he's lost- and that just makes his cannon start smoking in barely restrained murderous indent. "This isn't over Prime!" Megatron snarls out with a digit pointed firm at him. Megatron growls and calls for the Decepticons to retreat. And in his still stewing rage, Megatron internally begins making new plans for the next opportunity he has to try and obtain a hold of you.

Megatron would not come so close to getting a hold of you again and fail twice. Prime wouldn't know what hit him!

-

Starscream is positively fuming! He'd gotten a hold of you again, and he'd made sure those fragging terror twins were busy when he did it. But the fragging praxian stopping him! Not even the battle computer- it was the sparkdamn annoying one! Starscream openly glares at where you two were standing next to one another. You just smile the infuriating way you do at the Autobots. "My hero!" You exclaim, and Starscream bafflingly watches you throw your arms around the praxian- and you even kiss him on the cheek!?

The praxians optics widen and brighten quickly. And his dumb little insignificant door sensors hike high and start twitching. He smiles like a fragging imbecile and even laughs. Laughs about it! Starscream's engines growl hot in righteous fury. How dare this little insignificant praxian Autobot pede solider get in between Starscream and his claim on you!? Starscream had every fragging right in taking you apart, plate by plate for everything you'd put him through! And he almost had you- no, he did have you! And you got ripped right out of his grasp.

And Starscream is positively fragging seething about it. Starscream clenches his servos so tight his joints creak. His wings raise high at an angle, promising violence of the highest intensity. And Starscream knows he needs to retreat because they'd lost. He'd lost. Starscream bares his denta and has to force himself to turn on a pede and retreat. Starscream is irate but he's decided to start scheming once more- if Starscream couldn't get you alone on the battlefield naturally he'd just have to figure out how to distract your fellow sparkdamn Autobots- then you'd be all his for the taking.

If there was one thing Starscream was, it was tenacious. And he wasn't about to stop before he had you in his grasp.

-

Blitzwing was having a fragging good day- a really good one! He'd smashed some buildings, made the puny humans run like the vermin they were. He even smashed up a few Autobots! Oh, and then- and then! He got into a fight with you, and he started winning. Actually winning. Blitzwing actually managed to pin you down, and he was going to rip your modesty panel right off of you- and then Blitzwing gets hit hard and knocked down. And he's lost his fragging grip on you-! It ends with Blitzwing on his aft and you having gotten away from him.

You're standing next to the Autobots discount triple changer! You're brushing the dirt off your frame all before you throw your arms around the blue mech "My hero!" Then you even kiss him on the cheek! The mech jerks and pulls away from your touch and wipes his own cheek- is he stupid? His plating fluffs, and he crosses his arms over his chassis to turn and glare at Blitzwing instead. But Blitzwing had wings, so he knows exactly what it means when the mechs wings rank up high and fan out. And all three of Blitzwing's engines rumble because he was not a happy mech.

Slagging sparkdamnit all! Blitzwing had you right there! You were even under him already- But No! The knock-off poser had to go and get involved and mess everything up for Blitzwing. Whatever! Blitzwing's broken Mr. broody blue over there's frame before! Blitzwing just had to do it again, and then he'd have you all to himself. Except now you're brandishing your own weapon, and now Blitzwings gonna have to pin you all over again! Gah!! Why the in the pit did this reject have to ruin everything for Blitzwing! Blitzwing rushes forward with a shout- and skids to a stop right before he picks up any real momentum because Megatrons calling for retreat! Blitzwing takes one long look at you two before vowing to rip the blue mechs wings off the next chance he got before taking off.

Blitzwing wasn't gonna stop till he had you back under him where you belonged!

-

Skywarp's laughing when you miss another shot on him when he warps. This was going great! He had you alone out here away from the other Autodorks, and he was actually wearing you down! Now he just needed to grab you- Skywarp warps close and latches onto your waist only he stops and cycles his optics because uh- there's another mech on his left- and another on his right- There's three of you suddenly right in front of him!? The two versions of you on his side push forward and get into Skywarp’s faceplate, making him let go of the you he was holding. huh!? Is this one of Skywarps reflux recharges?! Both versions of you grin and then just- disappear!?

Skywarp cycles his optics, and his gaze snaps to the you a ways away. Where you're now standing next to the green Autobot scout. Aw, frag it all! He used his sparkdamn illusions on Skywarp! "You little-!" Skywarp stops short when you turn towards the jeep and throw your arms around him.

"My hero!" You sing all before- kissing the grounder on the cheek!? Wha-?! The grounders' optics brighten, and his plating ruffles up. He even rubs the nape of his neck cables all shy and slag- What the frag!? That should be Skywarp! Not some dirty green hippie grounder who can't keep his olfactory in his own business! Skywarp's wings slant, and he's imagining exactly what cavern he's gonna drop this fragging jeep over-

And his HUDs flashing that Megatron ordered a retreat! "Slag it all!" Skywarp growls before turning back to the two of you and pointing at you. "Next time, gorgeous!" Then the jeep steps in front of you- and oh, Skywarp so wants to rip his fuel tank out for it. His HUD flashes again, and Skywarp flashes a rude gesture at the jeep all before warping away. He almost had you! Frag! Skywarp just needed to get you alone again- Skywarp could do that! Easy!

Skywarp just needed to do that, and he'd have you all to himself!

[fangswbenefits]

Sharing is Caring (I)

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. ‘There’s only one bed’ trope. Dry humping. Fangs. Wet dreams. Love bites. Miguel in denial of his lust for the reader, but secretly touch starved.

You glanced at the watch on your wrist, suppressing a yawn.

Three in the morning had rolled around, and there were still no signs of the anomaly. Miguel O’Hara stood by the hotel window, gazing into the distance through narrowed and ever-watchful crimson eyes.

He was also not showing any signs of stopping for the night, but you were already far too sleep deprived to go on.

“Miguel…” you said miserably, sinking into the bouncy matress. “We should get some rest. We’ve been at this for hours…”

His face hardened slightly. “Get some rest, then. I’m staying up.”

Impossible man.

He was as relentless as he was stubborn. Once he had his mind set on something, there wasn’t much one could do to talk him out of it. He always had to have his way.

“We have sensors scattered all around the perimeter,” you said, feeling every last ounce of patience leave your body. “Any movement and we’ll be on it.”

This time he turned his head to you. “Sleep,” he grumbled, positioning himself closer to the windowsill, but just out of range of the raindrops that began to fall hard outside.

You exhaled in defeat. “Suit yourself.”

The bed squeaked as you moved to find a comfortable spot, eagerly flopping onto your back, facing the bland ceiling of the poorly lit room.

“The bed’s really comfy,” you said with a sigh of sheer relief, feeling the soft material dig into your sore muscles pleasingly. “You’re missing out.”

“The bed’s too small,” he said simply.

Right.

Trust Miguel O’Hara to find flaws in anything whenever it's convenient.

"Don’t be ridiculous," you scoffed, earning an intense glare from him. “We can totally fit here.”

“Uncomfortably, yes.”

You bit the inside or your cheek to keep yourself from mumbling a snarky reply, deciding not to push it and dive into a never-ending argument. You knew better than to do that with him.

Miguel suffered from chronic last word syndrome.

You exhaled noisily, as you pulled the soft sheet up to your shoulder before flipping onto your side to face the wall, ready for a much well deserved break from this boring mission.

Thankfully, the pouring rain outside presented itself perfectly, lulling you into a state of relaxation, and you felt your eyelids heavy as you drifted into sleep.

You weren't sure what time you awoke, but the room was now engulfed in darkness, with only the moonlight casting a dim light through the window.

The bed was dipped lightly behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to find Miguel sleeping on his side. He had retracted his digital suit and you were now faced with his broad bare back.

You had never been in such close proximity with him, let alone in this state of nakedness, which had your stomach do a sudden flip. But both of you were beyond tired, so you told yourself to go back to sleep.

But then you heard it.

A soft grunt coming from him made you look over again. The muscles in his back twitched lightly with each breath. But something was off. his breathing was harsh and erratic, as if he was in a state is distress.

Another low and throaty moan was heard.

Was he having a nightmare?

He suddenly flipped onto his back and you were met with his bare chest, covered midway by the flimsy sheet you both shared. His face was twisted into a light frown, eyed firmly shut, but mouth parted, revealing his protruding fangs.

That was odd... Miguel wouldn't bare his fangs lightly unless the occasion called for it during missions.

But then your eyes traveled down his body to find a tent rising in his lower half, and your eyes nearly bulged out.

Miguel O'Hara's cock was pressing against the fabric proud and erect. The faint lighting was enough for you to make out the growing wet stain. From time to time, his hips would buck instinctively, causing a few beads of precum to seep through.

Oh.

You had nearly forgotten Miguel wore nothing under his suit.

Your mouth went suddenly very dry at the realisation that Miguel was actually having a wet dream.

Maybe you were the one dreaming, because the alternative just felt too much to be true. Witnessing the Miguel O'Hara in such a vulnerable and intimate position was not something you had on your bucket list, for sure.

Did you find him attractive? Yes. Would you gladly fuck all that grumpiness out of him if given the chance? Definitely.

So now you were torn on what to do. Should you wake him up? Should you just try to ignore the pant and grunts that kept spilling from his mouth? Should you also ignore the way your clit was now pulsing?

But the answer came with him moaning your name.

Your eyes widened and you gasped, immediately flinching away from him, turning to face the wall, heart drumming fast and in unison with your clit.

Before you could fully process the initial shock, a second one quickly followed as you felt him shift next to you to swing a strong arm over your waist. The top half of your suit had ridden upwards from all the commotion, and goosebumps immediately spread across the point of contact between him and you.

"Miguel..." you whispered, too afraid to make a sudden move.

He hummed softly, his large hand pressed flat against your tummy, as he pulled you closer into him, his breath hitting a sensitive spot just below your ear. But what truly made you jolt against him was when his cock came into contact with your ass.

At this point, you knew you had to brace yourself somehow, because you were too far gone to fight the overwhelming wave of pleasure that washed over you. It hit you slowly at first, and then all at once, as he slowly jerked his hips into you.

You were essentially trapped between his large body and the wall, leaving you with no choice but to press your hand against the latter, trying to steady yourself as he picked up the pace.

He mumbled your name under his laboured breath once again, rubbing his cock harder against you, the unmistakable spill of precum now coating your skin.

Your eyes were fixed on your fingers that soon curled into a fist against the wall from the jaw-dropping sensation, and you couldn't stop yourself from undulating your body to match his.

"Miguel..." you groaned in a miserable attempt at waking him up.

His hand slid up and below your covered breasts, his thumb dipping inside the tight fabric of your suit.

You immediately clenched around nothing, and felt your own wetness drip into your underwear.

There was only so much one could take. The voice of reason inside you was telling you to put an end to this right away, but you were not one to listen to reason, especially when you had Miguel O'hara humping you desperately.

His hand slid down to the hem of the bottom half of your suit and began to tug at it.

That was enough to snap you from the haze of lust. "Miguel!"

The reaction was immediate and you found yourself quickly being flipped onto your back and pressed firmly into the mattress, arms pinned above your head, as a breathless Miguel positioned himself on top of you, baring his fangs.

"Miguel... it's me," you said, eyed meeting his crimson ones. "You were..." your voice immediately died down as you felt the weight of the underside of his cock pressed firmly against your covered clit.

The grip on your wrists loosened and his eyes narrowed as confusion settled on his face. "What..."

You were trying your best to ignore his heavy cock, but failed miserably with a whimper, eyes snapping shut and your back arching reflexively.

Miguel grunted from the friction, and you felt him press further into you. "What are you doing?"

With a roll of your hips, you moaned. "Me? You were having a wet dream about me and dry humping me..."

His face drew near yours. "Nonsense."

"It's true..." you whispered shakily, yearning for more.

He moaned again, his balance faltering momentarily, head dropping next to your face. "I would never think of you that way."

You weren't entirely sure why he was now saying this, while still firmly pressed against you.

"Why not?"

He grazed his fangs along your neck. "You're too annoying."

"Then how do you explain that hard cock?"

"Biology," he groaned, hips jerking slowly.

Somehow, his refusal to accept his lust for you only served to fuel yours for him. His subconscious had dragged him earlier into a wet dream about you, and he wouldn't never be able to square this circle.

"So we should stop," you teased, dragging your soaked suit along his cock.

He stilled you with one hand, teasing your skin with his fangs once more. "Yes."

"Then stop."

"Hmm."

His lips latched on to your pulse point, sucking lightly, as one hand beside your head held his weight above you, and the other snaking in between your bodies.

"Let me just feel it... with nothing in the way," he grumbled after tearing away from your skin, and probably marking you with a hickey.

"Why?" you moaned, feeling your clit throbbing uncontrollably. "I'm too annoying."

He pulled the fabric down at once, visibly impatient. "Too annoying."

And when you felt his cock settle between your soaked folds, you jerked with a gasp. Miguel shuddered and glanced down along the length of your body. You followed his motion and were presented with the most alluring sight ever.

His cock lay neatly settled against your, strings of precum drooling from the tip and onto your skin, letting you know his body craved more.

"We should stop now," he said with a feral grunt rumbling from his throat.

You began to roll your hips to have your clit slide effortlessly along his cock, wet sounds filling the room. "You don't want to."

The way he snapped into you next almost had the tip at your entrance, earning a gasp from you.

"I do."

"Then why don't you?" you pouted, caressing his face and having him lean into your touch.

"Biology."

And as he closed the remaining distance with a searing kiss, his tip slipped past without much obstacle as your wetness mixed with his made it way easier. You felt the air in your lungs being crushed by the sudden stretch and you immediately parted your lips from his to let out a strained groan.

He was too thick.

"Just the tip, then," you panted against his lips.

He remained still inside you. "You can take more than that."

Probably, but all the teasing and unintentional foreplay had dragged you so close to the edge you feared you might combust before he buried himself balls deep.

Miguel proceeded to plant persuasive pecks along your jawline and down to your neck. "You can bite down on my shoulder, if it helps."

Your eyes widened at the proposal, and you nearly jerked into him, the promise of struggling to take all of him being way too alluring.

"Okay... but I'm too close..."

"I know."

He positioned himself and your lips brushed against his shoulder, before sinking your teeth into the flesh, and that was enough to signal him to slide in deeper.

You tried to easy the pressure on his skin, but the stretch was too overwhelming and he next thing you knew, your fingers were clawing at his back.

"Stop clenching...." he moaned and you detected despair in his voice.

You would if you could, but the friction was too good to turn down.

He growled in your ear, one hand gripping your knee to further spread you open for him. “Almost there, cariño..."

And just as you were finally beginning to easy your grip around him to fully accommodate him, the obnoxious sound of an alarm flared across the room, lighting up your travel watches.

Fuck...

The fucking anomaly...

Part 2

Masterlist

[raileurta]

Humans are space cats

Finally finished the 200 followers poll fic. Here's the link to the ao3 version if you want but the fic will be under the cut.

The cold rain pelted gently on his hood; it has been a rather quiet week, Bumblebee thought. Things were going smoothly with human relations and a decepticon hasn't been spotted for a month. Even if they did find one he knew they wouldn’t harm humans. Honestly, why was he even doing a patrol in the first place? Pushing air through his vents Bee let out the equivalent to a Cybertronian sigh. As he was mulling things to do through his head he heard a muffled cry. It was barely louder than the rain but could tell it was coming from the alley on his left. Quietly driving into it he came upon a rather weird sight; a human was sitting in a box curled up hugging his knees face pressed into them in the rain not trying to keep himself dry. Bumblebee knew humans didn't like getting their coverings wet and they could get sick doing this so this worried him. The boy was wearing a simple gray T-shirt and a pair of black cotton shorts. This outfit was definitely not suitable for this weather, he could even see the human was shaking. He let out another small sob, tears running down his face. Bee didn't know what to do, a lot of humans were still scared of transformers and he didn't want to upset the boy further. Then to steal a human term a lightbulb went off in his helm. He remembered something about humans he learned from Ratchet a bit ago. Pulling out quietly he reluctantly left the human to drive to the nearest grocery store.

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

Bumblebee pulled by the alleyway again and with his sensors he could tell that the human was still there. He then transformed and walked into the alley. The small organic looked up from his position startled by the noise of his loud footsteps. His eyes were puffy from his crying and tear steaks could be seen on his face. Bumblebee felt his spark ache in his chest plate. Slowly he crouched down to the ground and carefully set the “chocolate” down on the ground and pushed it towards the organic. From what he learned this was a fuel most of humanity universally loved and the chemicals in it helped calm them down. The boy looked at him skeptical then at the chocolate then turned his gaze back up to his helm again. Bumblebee let out a soothing buzz noise hoping it would relax the human more. They sat like that in the rain for a few seconds, neither of them moving a digit. Gradually the boy reached for the offering and pulled it towards his chest in a fearful burst: as if afraid the bot was going to change his mind and take it from him. Bumblebee suppressed a chuckle at the little human’s actions. The earthling inspected the chocolate looking it over to see if it had been tampered with; deeming it safe to eat he bit into it. Bumblebee watched as he ate the little treat, his cheeks adorably bulging with its contents. Once finished the boy looked up at him; he was holding another piece of chocolate. Instead of putting it on the ground he extended his hand down to the human’s height and waited for him. Shakily he walked over to me clearly hesitant. Now out of the box I could see he didn't even have any shoes on. His feet must be freezing. When the boy was in arms reach of the fuel I spoke:

“My designat- name is bumblebee. What is yours?’ Bee stated simply.

The human was startled at my voice, clearly not expecting the sudden sound.

“Sorry for scaring you, but please do not be frightened, I will not harm you.” Bumblebee said in his most soft voice he could produce.

He was so thankful that Ratchet managed to fix his voice box finally. Otherwise this would be so much more difficult.

The human still looked skeptical which was to be expected considering he's a stranger that was a giant robot that could kill him in a nanosecond. When he took the chocolate a soft voice rang.

“My name's Sam.”

Bumblebee was in awe at the voice he heard. It pleasantly strung at his audio receptors and sounded oh so sweet. A little sneeze broke him out of his cuteness induced distraction. He had to get Sam out of the rain before he became ill. He took a large towel out of his subspace that he bought from the store and draped it over the human’s figure. Sam I instantly snuggled into the new warmth.

“Sam why are you sitting in this alley with improper clothes?”

The human grimaced at his question.

“Do you have somewhere to go?

Sam didn't answer again, he just curled the towel around him tighter. Seeing as his questions were just making the boy more upset he decided to stop.

“If you are comfortable with it I can take you back to my base.”

Bumblebee internally slapped the back of his helm. Why did he say that?! Now Sam is probably thinking he's creepy. He should have offered to take him to a shelter or-

“Sure.”

The boy's answer spurred him out of his spiral. Not one to question good luck he transformed and opened the driver door. Sam stepped in and Bumblebee drove off.

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

They arrived at home base after a couple minutes. Sam throughout the journey didn't say a single word. Bee didn't want to overwhelm him so he decided to let it be. Pulling into the garage he opened his left door. The human hopped outside and started to look around marveling at the large room. Transforming he walking towards the wash racks he made a head gesture for Sam to follow him, stumbling after the mech he rushed to keep up with him. It reminded Bee of a sparkling not quite used to their peds yet.

Arriving at the wash racks he looked around for something that Sam could bathe in; after a few seconds of looking he found a container that wasn't too big for the human. He turned on a nearby sink and filled it with warm water up to around Sam’s chest. Checking to make sure the temperature is not too hot. He then grabbed some car soap, the ingredients indicating nothing in it would hurt Sam. He would have to buy human shampoo if Sam was to stay here long term. Speaking of the boy he was exploring, currently trying to see on top of a stool.

Humans were so tiny heh.

Walking over to the human he bent down to him just like he has seen Optimus has done many times.

“Sam, I have prepared you a bath. May I pick you up to take you to it?”

“Yeah.” Sam said quietly.

Carefully he scooped up Sam in his hands making sure to be extra gentle carrying him. The earthling hand held onto his thumb to support himself and oooh he's so soft and warm. His hand barely being able to reach around his thumb to hold. It took a lot of his willpower to prevent himself from just snuggling the human to his face plate.

He put Sam next to the bath, and double checking to make sure he had everything he needed bumblebee reluctantly was about to leave. He knew about humans’ displeasure for being seen unclothed. Sam unexpectedly though apparently wasn't in the norm as he just took off his clothes and hopped in. He relaxed against the metal of his makeshift tub, letting the warm water ease his stress.

Bumblebee wasn't sure what to do. He's never met a human before that willingly disrobed themselves in front of him. He looked towards the soap and wondered to himself. Most Cybertronians wash each other to show affection and considering Sam's nudeness he wondered if he wouldn't mind being washed either. Also it's not like Sam could really use anything without help. He picked up the car soap and a cloth nearby. He made a questioning noise at Sam hoping he got what his intentions were. The boy looked up at him then at the items in his hands. A lot of emotions flickered over his face before landing on neutrality.

Sam made a small nod.

Dabbing some soap on a corner piece of the rag he gently started to rub the human’s head. Bumblebee would spend the next few minutes washing hi- the human. Making sure to get all of Sam's surface clean leaving the gentila area for him to wash himself. The mech knew how much of a no no area that it was for earthlings even among the most chill ones. Sam seemed surprised when he didn't wash him there. But Bee ignored that and started getting a towel for the human. It was one of the Cybertronian ones as the one he bought earlier was still wet. He helped Sam out of the tub and after dumping the water he wrapped the boy up. Despite being a hand towel it still managed to swallow the boy up looking very much “burritoed” as the humans would say. His processors were nearly overloading at the endearing sight in front of him; Sam just looked so cute. Continuing to resist the urge to snuggle the small human he asked Sam if he wanted anything. Shyly he asked if Bee still has any more chocolate on him. Luckily he had bought three candies so he still had one left. He took out the treat from his subspace and gave it to Sam; he happily took it from him. Offering his hand again the human quickly got on it. Bee brought up the little human burrito against his chest humming slightly as he walked over to the Autobot branded couch. He sat down and looked down at Sam. He was nibbling on the chocolate, a piece stuck on one of the boy’s cheeks. He lightly dusted it off with his pointer figure and when he did Sam grabbed his hand again. Bumblebee made no move to remove the boy’s grip from his finger. As they sat there slowly but surely a smile spread upon Sam's face. It was a tiny thing barely noticeable but it was there.

Primus help him, he was in love.

Throughout their whole time together Sam had not smiled, not once but he wished he did. He wanted to see the human’s happy face. Bee didn't know why become so attached to this human so quickly but he doesn't care; not if he could be the reason Sam smiled again. It was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his long long life. (And he's seen the allspark) Primus he wished he had lips so he could kiss Sam's forehead. Bee will settle on pressing the human against his face plate. As Sam snuggled into him he vowed then and there that he would protect Sam with his life.

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Forever.

[therocketeer0501]

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (mech pilot au)

Author note: little tw for choking but that’s it! Sorry it’s a short chapter but I wanted to get it out.

Chapter 6

“Lazerbeak eject.” Soundwave sent his cassette after you with subdue only orders. No lethal force was to be used on the prisoner. The agile cassette kept up with ease as you darted around the hallways of the nemesis. You were expending Energon at a high rate using your jump jets like this, but you couldn’t think of anything else to do. You passed several stunned mechs who hollered after you or dropped what they were doing in pursuit. Klaxon rang in your auditory sensors and flashing red lights threatened to short out your visual circuits. Holding the pieces of your chest plate together with one hand, you stagger down a hallway and use one last boost.

No matter what you did you couldn’t shake that damn bird who was following just a bit behind you. No doubt reporting your position to the others. You turn to look at it as you activate your jets. You hear it squawk in alarm and see it dart in the opposite direction. Looking at it was a huge mistake it seemed as you slam straight into a clawed metallic hand. It closes around the throat of your mech, squeezing until you choke. A strangled sound coming from your intake as your optics flicker and malfunction. Trying your best to see your captor around the mess of warnings and error messages on your HUD, you stare completely dumbstruck. Your free hand scrabbles at the hand around your throat. This moment would surely be your last as your blue optics meet deep crimson ones.

The pounding of peds behind the two of you announces the arrival of several other Decepticons. You can’t turn your head but you remember the voice of the boxy blue mech that you pushed past earlier. Hearing his voice translated into your language once more as the Cybertronian translation program within your mech works its magic.

“Lord Megatron. Apologies. The prisoner is under control.”

A deep voice spoke. Commanding but calm. Deadly calm. It sent ice down your spinal strut as you struggled again. His grip was so tight you were sure if you tried to speak your vocal modulator would short out.

“Soundwave, old friend, what is this injured creature doing on my ship?”

He continued to hold you by your throat. Lifted about a ped length off the ground suspended by his one hand. He was powerful and that was enough to send panic through you. This was the mech that killed hundreds of thousands, the mech who incited a millennia long war, a monster who would rather see his own world burn than leave even one of his enemies alive. That was the only word you managed to grate out of your intake as he held you there.

“M…monster…”

He growled at you but didn’t respond as he was interrupted by the sound of calm ped steps arriving on scene. You recognize the voice of Shockwave immediately, a fresh wave of panic surging through you to make your chest ache. You were barely conscious as it was, but you were starting to see white at the edge of your vision.

“Lord Megatron that would be my doing. I have reason to believe that the humans have been able to create an artificial spark. I took this ‘thing’ to study it. See if perhaps it might prove useful.”

There was murmuring from the small gathered crowd of Decepticons as you felt many optics on your damaged form. One servo holding the plates of your chest together and the other digging into Megatron’s massive digits.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t crush your little science project and be done with it. I told you the humans are of no consequence and to leave them be. We have no proof that they are even sentient creatures. The only thing we should be concerning ourselves with is mining Energon.”

He shakes your near limp form, a soft noise of pain escapes you and you feel his servo tighten. Your mech doesn’t need to breathe air, but he could easily crush your spinal strut and sever your head clean from your body. If you received a life threatening wound to your mech, your real body was adversely affected. If you didn’t die, you would be terribly close to it. Behind you, you hear Soundwave start to speak again but another familiar voice pipes up from the crowd. It was the winged mech from earlier who had spoken to you.

“My lord! Please let me take care of this horrible mess that Shockwave has created. I spoke with the creature and I believe it may have valuable information about the location of the Autobot base. Perhaps even the locations of their Energon mines. You needn’t bother yourself with such a pitiful excuse for a distraction.”

You scrunch your nose as you listen to him. Whoever this bot was, he was a suck up. Megatron visibly rolled his eyes and dropped your limp form to the floor. He growled in the direction of the mech.

“You spoke to it? Take care of it Starscream. Before I decide to let you take the blame for this inconvenience. As second in command you are responsible for the actions of those under you. Deal with it.”

With that, the crowd dispersed leaving the three of them with you. You don’t move, too exhausted and drained of Energon to muster any fight. Pain seared through every fiber of your being as you gaze blearily up at their frames. You hear Starscream mumble something about getting you to the brig before Megatron changed his mind. The boxy blue bot whom Megatron had called Soundwave, stepped forward and gently lifted you into his arms. He was warm just like the other one. Why did this surprise you? You had been held by most of the Autobots back at the base. Why would these Cybertronians be any different? Perhaps the image of the Decepticons that the autobots created? Like dark cryptids, or something altogether evil and sinister. You expected cold, calculating, monsters. But as you gaze up into the visor of the one carrying you, you swear you see pity in the optics you find there.

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - August 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. Smart hives and dancing robot bees could boost sustainable beekeeping

“[Researchers] developed a digital comb—a thin circuit board equipped with various sensors around which bees build their combs. Several of these in each hive can then transmit data to researchers, providing real-time monitoring. [… Digital comb] can [also] be activated to heat up certain parts of a beehive […] to keep the bees warm during the winter[…. N]ot only have [honeybee] colonies reacted positively, but swarm intelligence responds to the temperature changes by reducing the bees' own heat production, helping them save energy.”

2. Babirusa pigs born at London Zoo for first time

“Thanks to their gnarly tusks […] and hairless bodies, the pigs are often called "rat pigs" or "demon pigs” in their native Indonesia[….] “[The piglets] are already looking really strong and have so much energy - scampering around their home and chasing each other - it’s a joy to watch. They’re quite easy to tell apart thanks to their individual hair styles - one has a head of fuzzy red hair, while its sibling has a tuft of dark brown hair.””

3. 6,000 sheep will soon be grazing on 10,000 acres of Texas solar fields

“The animals are more efficient than lawn mowers, since they can get into the nooks and crannies under panel arrays[….] Mowing is also more likely to kick up rocks or other debris, damaging panels that then must be repaired, adding to costs. Agrivoltaics projects involving sheep have been shown to improve the quality of the soil, since their manure is a natural fertilizer. […] Using sheep instead of mowers also cuts down on fossil fuel use, while allowing native plants to mature and bloom.”

4. Florida is building the world's largest environmental restoration project

“Florida is embarking on an ambitious ecological restoration project in the Everglades: building a reservoir large enough to secure the state's water supply. […] As well as protecting the drinking water of South Floridians, the reservoir is also intended to dramatically reduce the algae-causing discharges that have previously shut down beaches and caused mass fish die-offs.”

5. The Right to Repair Movement Continues to Accelerate

“Consumers can now demand that manufacturers repair products [including mobile phones….] The liability period for product defects is extended by 12 months after repair, incentivising repairs over replacements. [… M]anufacturers may need to redesign products for easier disassembly, repair, and durability. This could include adopting modular designs, standardizing parts, and developing diagnostic tools for assessing the health of a particular product. In the long run, this could ultimately bring down both manufacturing and repair costs.”

6. Federal Judge Rules Trans Teen Can Play Soccer Just In Time For Her To Attend First Practice

“Today, standing in front of a courtroom, attorneys for Parker Tirrell and Iris Turmelle, two transgender girls, won an emergency temporary restraining order allowing Tirrell to continue playing soccer with her friends. […] Tirrell joined her soccer team last year and received full support from her teammates, who, according to the filing, are her biggest source of emotional support and acceptance.”

7. Pilot study uses recycled glass to grow plants for salsa ingredients

“"We're trying to reduce landfill waste at the same time as growing edible vegetables," says Andrea Quezada, a chemistry graduate student[….] Early results suggest that the plants grown in recyclable glass have faster growth rates and retain more water compared to those grown in 100% traditional soil. [… T]he pots that included any amount of recyclable glass [also] didn't have any fungal growth.”

8. Feds announce funding push for ropeless fishing gear that spares rare whales

“Federal fishing managers are promoting the use of ropeless gear in the lobster and crab fishing industries because of the plight of North Atlantic right whales. […] Lobster fishing is typically performed with traps on the ocean bottom that are connected to the surface via a vertical line. In ropeless fishing methods, fishermen use systems such an inflatable lift bag that brings the trap to the surface.”

9. Solar farms can benefit nature and boost biodiversity. Here’s how

“[… M]anaging solar farms as wildflower meadows can benefit bumblebee foraging and nesting, while larger solar farms can increase pollinator densities in surrounding landscapes[….] Solar farms have been found to boost the diversity and abundance of certain plants, invertebrates and birds, compared to that on farmland, if solar panels are integrated with vegetation, even in urban areas.”

10. National Wildlife Federation Forms Tribal Advisory Council to Guide Conservation Initiatives, Partnerships

“The council will provide expertise and consultation related to respecting Indigenous Knowledges; wildlife and natural resources; Indian law and policy; Free, Prior and Informed Consent[… as well as] help ensure the Federation’s actions honor and respect the experiences and sovereignty of Indigenous partners.”

August 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Wheeljack x reader: Caught

Dom Wheeljack and sub reader, Wheeljack masturbates into your shirt, reader has a vagina, gender neutral and racially ambiguous, reader walks in on Wheeljack, fingering, size kink

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t hold your dirty shirt up to his olfactory sensors and huff in your human pheromones but Wheeljack couldn’t help himself. It was just a simple little piece of clothing you had left behind from staying over and now Wheeljack planned on desecrating it. You looked so cute sleeping on your little cot next to him when you stayed the night. All bundled up and wearing the exact shirt he was holding up to his faceplate.

You had smelt so different this time, so good. Ovulating? Isn’t that a thing humans did? Whatever it was you smelt intoxicating and Wheeljack had to try to recharge with a dripping spike pressed against his modesty plate. If Wheeljack could smell you that means every mech in the base could get a huff of your pheromones. That worried him. Was someone else rubbing one out to the thought of you? Soft little human pussy so decadently wet and needy at the sight of a Cybertronian spike. Your folds being pushed to the limit as you take something so big inch by inch. Wheeljack couldn’t help but grab his spike tightly in annoyance. You were his whether your current relation was platonic or not. No one else should be thinking about having you spread open and crying out for them.

What have you done to him?

Wheeljack wrapped your shirt around his spike imagining he was fucking your torso right under your shirt. He wanted to ruin your body so badly. Rub his spike over you and splatter his overload all over your willing form. He imagined surprising you during one of your hangouts and just jutting his spike up your shirt. Your soft skin and squishy body rubbing and stimulating his spike as you gasp out in surprise.

He quickened his pace fucking his spike up into your used shirt. His cooling fans hummed and whirled excitedly at his fantasies. He could just pick you up and rub your little cunt along his spike. Have you so wet just from grinding against him then maybe he could barely pop the tip of his spike inside if you. Wheeljack groaned your name imagining how plush your sweet little pussy must feel. Do you think he could reshape your body for his spike? Maybe if he fucks you enough he could perfectly form your hole into the shape of his spike? Primus, Wheeljack hoped so.

Frag, he was getting close. You’ve absolutely ruined him and you have no idea. You don’t even know how desperate he is to be slotted inside of you, run his servos over your body, and use you like a fleshlight. Humans have a sort of anterior node as well. He could rub at it making you cry out for him until you cum on just his digits. He wouldn’t be able to stop at one though. After seeing your cute expression and how you hump his fingers, Wheeljack knew that if he had you like that he’d be insatiable.

“Almost, sweet spark,” Wheeljack groaned as he fucked your dirty shirt. Your name fell out of his vocal box like a prayer. He was so close just chanting your name in pleasure as he imagined all the positions he’d-

“Wheeljack?”

Your sweet voice startled Wheeljack right into his orgasm. Thick globs of transfluid dirtying your already used shirt as he came with the fabric wrapped firmly around his spike. He felt horror, relief, and above all guilt. You were his closest friend and here he was caught in the act of masturbating to your thought with your shirt as his fetish item.

“S-shit!” Wheeljack’s shaky vocalizer managed to squeak out.

You clenched your legs watching how tightly he gripped your shirt to his spike: he was practically strangling his metal cock with the fabric.

“Do you,” you felt your heartbeat quicken and your body heat up. “Do you want me to clean you up?”

Wheeljack thought his circuits were fried when you spoke. He shakily turned his helm to face you as you stood in front of the closed door to his habsuite. How long have you been there?

“Can I help?” You asked pressing your thighs together.

“W-what?” Wheeljack managed to push out through his dermas.

“Can I help clean you off?” You asked again as you licked your lips and eyed up his spike.

Wheeljack cursed under his breath. Were you watching him this whole time? Did you just stand there and ogle at your closest friend fucking your shirt and now were you asking what he thought you were asking?

“Frag,” Wheeljack groaned as another small spurt of transfluid shot onto your now further dirtied shirt. “Sweet spark, please.”

You eagerly trotted up to your mech as he removed your shirt from his spike. You licked your lips at the sight of wet strings of transfluid being stretched out from where he lifted the soiled garment. You tepidly grabbed his spike in both hands earning a low hiss from Wheeljack.

“How long-“

“The whole time.”

How did he not notice you?

“Fuck,” you moaned as you rubbed up his metal shaft. “You’re so fucking big.”

Wheeljack cupped behind you and ushered you closer to his spike. “C’mon doll,” he said over his cooling fans. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

You shoved your face against his spike as you mouthed over the metal phallus. The bitter and sour taste of his cum made you whine. He had made this mess thinking about you, all of this transfluid was for you. You eagerly licked and sucked at the massive cable trying to slurp down all of his release. Your small hands traced over his biolights as you licked up his length. Your mouth was so much warmer, so much softer than Wheeljack ever imagined.

“Need to get you out of your little coverings,” Wheeljack moaned as you sucked at his sensitive cock.

“Yes,” you panted as you pulled away from your meal. You swiftly pulled your clothes off of your body like they stung your skin. “Fuck, Wheeljack I’ve wanted this for so long!”

“How long?” Wheeljack asked as he lifted you into his lap. Your legs were spread on either side of his spike as it still stood proudly and erect.

“Since we first met,” you admitted breathlessly.

Wheeljack couldn’t help how tightly he held your hips. You’ve been interested in him this entire time. All those nights of needy masturbation on his end could have been put to an end by simply asking to have your little body in his berth.

“You’re soaked,” Wheeljack groaned as if he couldn’t believe it himself. Your soft little human valve was absolutely drenched. He traced a digit through your folds exploring the squishy texture of your most intimate parts. “Did you really just stand there and watch?”

“Yeah,” you admitted feeling embarrassed. You felt like an entire pervert having watched Wheeljack rub one out into your shirt but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“I never imagined this is how I’d finally get to fuck you,” Wheeljack chuckled embarrassed.

“Please,” you panted as he rubbed circles over your clit. “Oh Wheeljack please fuck me!”

“Oh I will,” he chuckled as he rubbed up your torso with his other servo. “But I don’t think I can fit in here just yet.” You whined out as he pushed the tip of his metal finger into your sopping hole. He had to hold your hips in a tight grasp to keep you from mindlessly humping his servo.

“Frag,” Wheeljack couldn’t help sinking an entire digit into you. You squirmed and whined out in something between pleasure and pain. “Don’t think I can fit inside you proper without some training.” You could barely move in his grip as he fucked his finger into your hole. He practically held you like a doll as your greedy cunt swallowed up his digit.

“Wheeljack please!” You moaned out throwing your head back against his chasis. “Just use me! Please just use my holes!”

“Oh I will,” Wheeljack laughed. “Trust me I’ll make good use out of this little valve.” You whined when you heard how your pussy squelched around his finger. “You’re taking it so good,” Wheeljack moaned as he frantically fucked his finger up into you. “Can’t imagine how you’ll feel when I finally get to spike you down.”

“Wheeljack!” You cried humping his finger as he prodded and pushed around your insides. The room was filled with slick wet sounds mixed with a mixture of yours and Wheeljack’s pleading and praise. You were like a little angel from Primus himself. He knew that he needed to finish whatever projects he currently had ASAP because once he was finally inside of you he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to pull out.

“C’mon,” Wheeljack groaned as your whines became more frantic and needy. “I got you. You can let go.”

It was like he could command you to cum. You squeezed around his finger like a vice and Wheeljack couldn’t help wondering how tight you’d feel around his spike. Your little whimpers and whines were addicting. The way you humped your hips against his finger like a needy animal made his spark swell with both love and pride.

“There you are,” Wheeljack cooed. “You’re doing so good.”

You choked on a sob as you rode out your high. The way he fucked his finger into you slowed as you rode out your orgasm. “Wheeljack,” you panted shakily. He kept his finger inside of you now just simply stroking your walls like a well loved pet.

“Gotta make up for lost time,” Wheeljack laughed as he pressed a second digit against your hole. “Plus I think you owe me another for just standing there and watching.”

[marlynnofmany]

Digital Billboards and Bumper Stickers

I handed another can of food to Eggskin, thinking idle thoughts about skin and scale color. Neither of us were what I considered kindergarten-crayon colors, though I was somewhere in the white-brown-pink area while they were a yellow-green-white. Someday I’d ask them if they knew their scales were the color of human boogers (no I wouldn’t).

Really I was thinking about that to avoid reading the labels of the food, since most of them had my alien crewmates in mind, and looked profoundly unappealing to me. This stack was mostly bug paste. Some cans were shelled, and some unshelled. Flavored with the highest quality algae. Bluh.

“That’s the last of these,” I said happily, handing it over.

Eggskin placed it on the shelf and looked thoughtfully down at the counter still strewn with shelf-stable food. “Let’s do the seed paste next. Leave the herb stalks out; I’ll want to use them sooner than the rest.”

Following their pointing claw, I located the jars of peanut-butter-adjacent food, and the narrow boxes that I’d thought were spaghetti. “Got it.” I shoved the boxes aside and started passing the jars to Eggskin for placement. Reorganizing the shelves was a lot of work. I could see why they’d asked for assistance. At the very least, it would have gotten boring after a while.

Eggskin asked, “So what was the captain grumbling about just now?”

I thought back to when Eggskin had recruited my help from outside the cockpit. I’d only been there to bring Wio the water bottle she’d left in the lounge, but it had been long enough to pick up the gist of the conversation. “All the ships in this area have extra information on their ID’s, and they keep popping up as images overlaying the map, making it hard to see where everything is.”

Eggskin turned with the speed of a striking snake. “What area? Where are we going? I knew I should have checked the schedule.”

“I didn’t catch the name,” I said, but Eggskin was already racing for the door.

“Put away the jars, please; I’ll get the rest later!”

I paused for a moment, then hurried to put all the seed paste jars next to the cans of bug paste, labels forward and in neat rows. Then I ran after Eggskin.

When I arrived at the cockpit, I found our ship’s cook/medic with a hand on Wio’s chair, pointing something out to the captain.

Captain Sunlight sat in the copilot’s seat, frowning at the screen. Many colors reflected off her bright yellow scales, glowing from the mishmash of light that was normally a dark starfield. “If we make that much of a detour, we won’t be able to make the delivery on time. We’ll just have to go dark on communications until we get there.”

Eggskin made a concerned noise as Wio tapped several buttons with her tentacles. The room was suddenly darker as all the company logos and custom images blinked out of sight. The screen now held the usual blackness of space, speckled with stars — one close enough to be called a sun — and a variety of ships mostly heading to or from a distant space station shaped like a tube. There were also far more asteroids hanging around than I was entirely comfortable with.

But before I could ask about that, the music started.

I think it was music. “What is that?” I asked at the jumble of sound. It sounded like several radio stations at once, some playing recognizable instruments, some talking, and others making what sounded like rude noises.

In a tone of defeat, Eggskin said, “The ads and taunts can detect visual sensors. Some ships target outsiders in exactly our position: no time or money to buy a blocker.”

Wio made a rude sound of her own and turned the volume down.

Captain Sunlight was still frowning. “I don’t want to speak ill of anyone else’s way of life, but this is terrible.”

Eggskin gripped both chairs, eyes trained on the screen. “It’s one of many reasons why I left. You’ll want to keep that big ship between us and the station for as long as you can.” They pointed briefly. “Or else we’ll have a Core on our tail wanting to fine us for flying blind.”

“Terrible,” the captain repeated. But she instructed Wio to do as they said, while aiming for one specific asteroid that hadn’t come onscreen yet.

This seemed like a good time to ask. “Why are there so many asteroids this close to the station?”

Captain Sunlight flicked a glance at me, possibly only now noticing I was there in the doorway.

Eggskin answered without turning. “It was meant to be a tourist attraction, but the company got bought out and the project abandoned. Now half of the gravity engines are failing, and reputable businesses are leaving the area.”

Wio said, “It still looks awfully busy.”

“That would be the disreputable sorts. If you see a triangle where the stars disappear for a moment, fly at max speed in the other direction, never mind the delivery time.”

Captain Sunlight turned her frown on Eggskin. “It’s that extreme of a danger?”

The hands on both chairs tightened. “Yes.”

I studied the screen for any sign of disappearing stars. Black ships in the blackness of space were uncommon back in familiar territory, for the simple reason that they risked having someone crash into them and atomize both ships. But it sounded like someone here considered that a risk worth taking so they could sneak up on others. I didn’t ask what they did when they succeeded.

We spent a tense few minutes flying in silence, with no sign of invisible ships and only a few pop-ups. Apparently even flying blind couldn’t block all of them out. At least these were mostly informational things on the asteroids themselves, defunct notifications about events and attractions that had never been finalized.

One ship that looked cobbled together from spare parts had a blank panel above the thrusters that drew my eyes with how bright white it was. Eggskin stared at it intently. “This could be nothing,” they said, “But it could be important. Use a tight-beam scan for that panel.”

Wio did. As if the ship was just waiting for someone to look, it accelerated away and produced an image that glowed on our screen after it was long gone. The stylized pair of shapes were vaguely familiar.

While Eggskin made a disappointed grumble, I asked, “What is that? I’ve seen that symbol on the back of a racing ship.”

“I believe,” said Captain Sunlight, “It is an insult. A view of the bottoms of the pilot’s feet as they swim or fly away from you.”

“Oh,” I said. “Huh. I guess it’s like mooning someone. Or an ‘Eat my dust’ bumper sticker.”

Before anyone could ask what human nonsense I was talking about, Wio spotted the meeting location. “This one, right?” she asked the captain. “The mid-sized flat one?”

Captain Sunlight consulted a smaller screen. “That is where they said to meet. But they also said they would be here before us, ready to rush off as soon as they got our delivery.”

Wio and Captain Sunlight inspected the surrounding area for other ships, which all seemed to have left. I kept watching the stars, sparing a glance for Eggskin, who looked more intense than ever.

“Scan the landing area,” they said suddenly.

The message that popped up this time was a simple text one, in a language I didn’t recognize.

But Eggskin did. “Thought so. Send a tight-beam message back to open the drop box. This message.” They rattled off a string of numbers that Wio dutifully copied down and sent. I saw the captain also copy it onto her notepad with an expression that suggested she had some questions for Eggskin later.

Lo and behold, the flat part of the asteroid rolled back into an empty space that could have fit a ship larger than ours. The light of the distant sun showed it to be empty.

Captain Sunlight sat back, exasperated. “Where did they go?”

Wio said, “There’s a ship over there. Is that them?” She turned our view to show a speedy little junker careening between the asteroids toward us.

“I don’t think so,” the captain said. “Unless they had to use a different ship.”

A patch of stars behind it winked out. I pointed. “Invisible ship!”

Before Wio could hit the thrusters, Eggskin commanded, “Get in the drop box!”

Wio threw a glance at Captain Sunlight, who nodded. Wio sent our little courier ship diving into the secret hidey-hole, folding the solar sails and transmitting the other message Eggskin gave her to close the hatch.

It was very dark inside that drop box. I thought briefly about the rest of the crew, who had no idea how much danger they were in. I didn’t even know how much danger we were in. But I suspected it was a lot.

Eggskin said, “We should be safe after a few minutes. Given their trajectory, they were chasing that other ship. Even if they saw us, they’ll be busy.”

Wio asked, “These aren’t the people who will fine us, are they?”

“No,” Eggskin said firmly. “The Core will fine you, because they’re what passes for a police force out here. Spherical ships, like a planet’s core. That,” they said, pointing emphatically, “Was a Lancer. They will dismantle your ship, sell it for scrap, and sell you to a work camp. No, the Core won’t stop them. Yes, it’s terrible.”

The captain nodded. “One of the many reasons why you left.”

“Yes.”

“Well, we very much appreciate your expertise today!”

“I’m just glad I realized where we are,” Eggskin said. “I’ll make a point of checking the schedule more regularly.”

“And I will make a point of not accepting deliveries for this part of space, no matter how much they pay,” the captain said wryly.

We sat there a little while longer, until Eggskin said it was safe to open the hatch. All the stars were in place as we ventured out. Nothing moved, not even any drifting bits of dismantled ship. Good news.

But also bad news, since we still didn’t know where our client was.

“I will be extremely disappointed if all this risk was for nothing,” Captain Sunlight said. “Eggskin, are there likely to be other drop boxes nearby that they could have hidden in?”

Eggskin let out a breath. “If there are, I won’t know the codes for them.”

The captain made another note to herself, and told Wio to search the area for other likely asteroids. I did my part by continuing to watch the stars, just in case.

Wio said, “Most of these have a flat enough area to land on.”

Eggskin put in, “By design.”

“Should I turn the communications back on, to look for markers?” Wio asked. “There are no other ships over here to jam our screen.”

Eggskin muttered, “Optimistic.”

Captain Sunlight said, “Do it.”

The drifting space rocks were suddenly festooned with logos. It wasn’t as bad as before, but it wasn’t great. They were all old and glitchy.

Wio turned the volume up slightly, just enough to hear that any audio messages had dissolved into static. “If anybody spots something promising, sing out.”

We all watched the screen as Wio slowly toured the area. A couple of asteroids had newer pop-ups, but these were clearly graffiti: messages about how somebody was the envy of this half of the galaxy, or how whoever was reading the message should go stick their tail in a thruster.

“What species made most of this?” Wio asked.

“The original owners were Frillians,” said Eggskin. “Though that graffiti clearly wasn’t.”

“And what species is our client?” Wio asked the captain. “Or is it a mixed ship?”

Captain Sunlight glanced down at her notes, then up at me. “Human.”

Oh. No pressure. “I haven’t seen anything yet that looks particularly human-ish,” I said. “But I’ll look.” I gave up on the stars for now, and stared at the asteroids. “Are those two just extra flat, or do they have panels like that one ship did?”

Wio dutifully moved closer and scanned the two that I pointed out. One was a political slogan about something Waterwill-related from several years ago.

The other one was music. The volume was still quiet, but I recognized it. As Wio turned up the sound of synthetic drumbeats, I grinned at the old Earth anthem.

This asteroid was equipped with a rickroll.

“That’s a human thing,” I said. “Check that one.”

Wio took us closer, then she sent a short-range communication ping, the equivalent of knocking on the door.

And lo and behold, something pinged back and the door opened. A ship floated out that was sleek and aerodynamic, and painted in a camouflage pattern that did absolutely nothing to disguise it against the rock. I burst out laughing as Captain Sunlight hailed them to confirm that they were indeed the people we’d come to meet. I tried to laugh quietly.

With the drop box closed again, there was space for both small ships to land side by side. Theirs even had an extendable airlock that matched up with ours, saving everyone the inconvenience of getting into exo suits and doing the handoff in whatever atmosphere still clung in the artificial gravity.

I got to do the honors, with Captain Sunlight at hand close behind. I suspect she would have preferred to do it herself, but her little lizardy arms weren’t up to carrying a box this size, and there wasn’t space in the airlock for a hover sled. Simpler to just let the tall human do it.

The airlock opened to show a guy who looked malnourished, stressed, and very relieved to see me. “So glad you found us,” he said in an unfamiliar accent, grabbing the payment tablet before I could offer it. “It’s just one thing after another these days.”

“I bet,” I said. “Have you considered leaving? I have it on good authority that life is terrible around here.”

He handed the tablet back. “Thought about it. Dunno what we’d do for a living.”

I gave him the box, which according to the manifest included fresh chicken eggs, kosher salt, and a selection of media from Earth. “Have you considered a career as a courier?”

He smiled. “I’ll mention it to the crew.”

As he stepped back onto his own ship, I called, “Feel free to follow us out! We probably won’t get caught by anybody horrible on the way!”

I heard a chuckle as the door closed.

Once the airlocks were sorted away and everybody was back in position, Wio took us up from the asteroid, and back toward civilized space. I watched from the doorway while Eggskin kept an eye out for dangers. We made it out of the asteroid zone safely.

And so did the other ship, following close behind us.

~~~

Thanks to everybody who joined in the discussion of spaceship bumper stickers and related things, particularly @lillyjen and @voodootortoise!

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[fictionfanatic-wren]

The robin games.

chapter 3/7

The artificial lighting in the Watchtower dimmed gradually as the station shifted into its night cycle. A quiet hush settled over the vast halls, replacing the earlier chaos with a strange, uneasy calm.

Dick had wedged himself into his cozy little vent above the main deck, curled into a surprisingly efficient sleeping position that only years of acrobatics could make tolerable. His arms were folded beneath his head, and a thin thermal blanket was tucked around him like a burrito. From below, the faint hum of the Watchtower filled the silence. Every now and then, a screen blinked or beeped, but Dick didn’t stir.

Jason yawned, stretching out behind his stack of crates. He’d wedged himself into a cozy nook of unused gear, resting on a folded emergency blanket and using a deflated punching bag as a pillow. One hand still gripped the handle of a combat knife, old habits died hard. He wasn’t asleep yet. Just resting. “…If Barry cries about the pizza one more time, I’m stealing his whole fridge next time…” he mumbled, eyes drifting closed.

Tim sipped another cup of coffee, the fourth tonight. The room was bathed in soft light from his screens, reflecting off his tired eyes. Every camera was still under his control. Every sensor, every system, still his playground. Sleep was... irrelevant. He’d tucked a blanket over his shoulders like a cape, more out of habit than comfort. His eyes never left the screens. On one, Jason had finally stopped twitching. On another, Dick rolled over in his sleep and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “no, Babs, I didn’t eat your sandwich.” Tim grinned faintly. Another sip.

The soft hum of the Watchtower’s life support systems was the only sound filling the corridors. Most of the League had returned to Earth for the night, and the few remaining, Dinah, Bruce, and Arthur, were either asleep or in their quarters, leaving the station cloaked in a rare, heavy silence. Damian stirred awake in his vent hideout, stretching like a panther just roused from sleep. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked toward the glowing clock panel on his wrist. Nighttime. He slipped silently from the ducts and made his way down the dim hallway, every step precise and deliberate. His target: Dick Grayson. If Damian wanted to win this game, he needed an edge. And that meant hitting where it hurt most. The firstborn was tucked away in a cramped crawlspace above the observation deck, confident in his setup. But confidence, Damian thought, was a luxury he could exploit. He reached the access panel to the crawlspace, expertly unscrewing it without a sound. Inside, Dick’s gear lay neatly arranged: his Escrima Sticks, compact grappling tools, comms device, all meticulously placed for quick access. This was Damian’s game to win, and stealing Dick’s gear was a necessary evil. With practiced efficiency, he gathered the suit and tools, slipping them into a reinforced tactical bag. He paused for a moment, glancing at a small digital tracker Dick had forgotten on the wrist computer. Pocketing it, Damian smiled coldly. This would keep him one step ahead. The soft hum of machinery filled the dimly lit maintenance room. Tim was deeply focused, eyes flicking over streams of code on his laptop, fingers tapping commands with precision. His face was calm, but the faintest crease of fatigue lined his brow. The door slid open silently. Batman stepped in, his presence commanding yet gentle. In his gloved hands, he carried a small insulated bag. Tim glanced up, surprise flickering in his eyes. “B,” he said quietly. Bruce didn’t say a word, just set the bag down beside Tim and opened it to reveal a neatly packed meal, sandwiches, fruit, energy bars, and a bottle of water. “You’re too focused,” Bruce said simply, voice low but firm. “Even if it’s a game, you don’t get to starve.” Tim nodded, a small smile breaking through. “Thanks.” Bruce watched him for a moment, then turned and moved silently out of the room.

Bruce moved quickly but deliberately, stopping briefly at each camp. Near the observation deck crawlspace, he placed a wrapped meal and water bottle besides Dick’s head. In the cluttered storage bay where Jason hid, a similar package appeared next to a small pile of makeshift traps and empty crates. And finally, in the window of Damian going to sabotage Dick, near the vent junction where Damian spent his time, a meal was carefully balanced on the edge of his secured mat.

The cold silence of the Watchtower was broken by the sudden pulse of zeta tubes activating in rapid succession. ZETA TUBE ACTIVATION: GREEN LANTERN. GREEN ARROW. FLASH. WONDER WOMAN. SUPERMAN. With every flicker of light and arrival chime, the quiet sanctity of the station shattered into chaos.

Ventilation Shaft - Damian Damian’s eyes snapped open. He blinked once, alert immediately, hand instinctively reaching for a dagger before remembering where he was. The vibrations in the ductwork were unmistakable, people stomping, voices rising. He activated his wristpad, scanning audio feeds. “…I told you it wasn’t me!” Flash was already yelling. “I woke up this morning and my uniform had a ‘kick me’ sign sewn into the back,” Hal snapped. “Why would I even do that? I can’t sew!” “Exactly,” Diana deadpanned. “Which only narrows down the suspects to someone with too much free time and a needle.” Damian smirked faintly and moved deeper into the shadows, fully awake now.

Storage Bay - Jason Jason groaned, rubbing his eyes and sitting up slowly from behind the crates. He’d been mid-dream, something about Alfred’s pancakes and a flamethrower, and now the noise from the hall was creeping into his skull. He took a bite of the sandwich Bruce had left him and stretched. “…Can’t believe they’re still fighting.” From the hallway, he heard Ollie’s voice. “Okay, new theory: maybe it’s Clark. You’ve got heat vision, you could’ve fried the sugar into salt.” “That’s not how sugar works,” Superman replied, exasperated. “It could be magic sugar!” Jason snorted, leaning back again. “Idiots,” he muttered under his breath.

Observation Deck Crawlspace - Dick Dick stirred with a yawn, groaning softly as he shifted in the tight space. He blinked blearily, then frowned as the argument filtered up from the floor below. “…someone hacked the training room and set all the difficulty levels to ‘expert’ without warning. I tore my suit, Barry!” “I didn’t do it!” Barry cried. “And why is everyone still assuming this is me?!” Dick dragged a hand down his face, muttering, “Still? They’re still on this?” He reached for his comm… Only to realize it was gone. Everything was gone. Damn it. Probably Jason’s work.

Tim was already awake, sipping lukewarm coffee from a thermos this time (thanks, Bruce), watching the League’s security feeds with bags under his eyes and a grin on his face. “Welcome back, chaos,” he murmured. One screen showed Hal arguing with Barry in the kitchen, another caught Diana pacing with murderous intent, and yet another showed Aquaman just… quietly eating cereal, eyes wide like he was stuck in a fever dream.

The long table in the League’s command center gleamed under sterile lighting. The founding members were seated, Superman at the head, Diana to his right, Batman silent in his usual spot. Flash was bouncing one knee under the table. Hal looked bored. Green Arrow looked ready to nap. Black Canary sipped her coffee with the calm of someone who’d already accepted today was going to be awful. Aquaman was just there, still confused. “Alright,” Superman said, clearing his throat and projecting his voice with practiced authority. “Let’s focus. Star City’s been seeing unusual activity, seven coordinated attacks in the last two days, each targeting high-tech facilities.” He pressed a button. The holo-table projected images of figures dressed in black, blurry but menacing. “We believe it’s a new group. Possibly connected to the remnants of the Kobra cult.” “Oh good,” Ollie muttered, folding his arms. “Star City wasn’t chaotic enough already.” “We’ll form a task force and-” “You know,” Flash interrupted, eyes narrowing as he pointed at Hal, “This does look like the kind of distraction someone would create to shift attention away from themselves.” Hal blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?” “I’m saying,” Barry leaned forward, eyes sharp, “maybe you’re orchestrating all this just to get back at me for using your toothbrush six months ago.” The table went quiet. Diana blinked. “You did ?” Hal groaned. “Oh my God, Barry- you were the one who used it behind my back for a week and never thought to tell me!” “Hey! I thought you never used it, and that was a joke!” “So was switching the salt and sugar! But here we are, pretending to be professionals while someone keeps moving my goddamn chair!” Ollie sipped his coffee. “Honestly? Kinda sounds like guilt, Hal.” “I SWEAR TO-” Superman held up a hand. “Everyone. Please.” Batman hadn't said a word, his hands steepled in front of his mouth. Internally, he was screaming. Outwardly, he said nothing. Flash shot up from his chair. “If I find out you stole my pizza, Hal, I swear I’m going to-” “FOR THE LAST TIME, I DIDN’T TOUCH YOUR DAMN PIZZA!” “Then who did?!” In the silence that followed, Aquaman slowly raised a hand. “Unrelated,” he said carefully, “but… I just got back, and someone replaced my water filters with cherry soda. My fish are very confused.” Black Canary set her mug down with a sigh. “We’re a galactic defense force. Yet we literally cannot keep our stuff safe.” Superman rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s… circle back to Star City later. Meeting adjourned.” As the team began filing out, muttering, glaring, and one or two openly blaming Hal again, Batman remained behind, expression unreadable.

[bnsni]

G1 prowl. I don't know where I'm going with with this. Mention of 'suggestive stuff but it's not explicit.' hrhrghrhhhrh

IT was a fine evening that night in his habsuite. As usual, the lights are turned off; room shrouded dim with the only illumination apparent is the iridescent glow from the desk lamp that tugged an ache in his optics.

He persevered, however. No matter how uncomfortable the ache pulsed. Bent over the desk, he skimmed through the expense protocols from this morning's briefings. It wasn't usually his position to handle the funds. The most he's got his hands on is managing the military expenditure, ensuring nothing is nicked during the process. But given the mech prior his employment had handled the situation indelicately, 'usually', he's now tasked with the errand to do so.

Another one of the many issues he'll have to sort through. As if being the tactician isn't enough. Not only will he have to spend weeks formulating battle plans but also play side-hustle as a financier.

Ultra Magnus expected the finished product the end of this week. Unfortunately for him, he'll give it seven days prior.

Footsteps patter in front of the door. He's too fixated on a misspelling to hear it slide open. (Is it so hard to not miss the other 'i' in Liaison?) And when his proximity sensor does register — swivelling around in surprise, the chastise lodged in his throat is cut short when a forty Cybertronians isn't in his view - but tipping his helm down is your minuscule form on the floor.

You peered back up, features twisted in solemn ire. Nose scrunched, lips down turned. Eyes distraught.

"You look..." He tried to find the word. When he couldn't he settled on something less severe he winced out. "...unhappy."

You sighed. "You have no idea."

With a slight tilt of his helm, he crouches to your level and curls out a servo. It didn't take long to waddle onto the palm, clutching the thumb to keep yourself balanced as he raises himself. You blinked when the thumb you're holding moves, pressing against your cheek then back and forth against the skin. You leaned into the touch and nuzzled the ridge.

"I was in trouble.” You spoke after a moment.

Prowl raises a brow. Oh? Trouble? You're not usually the worst ones. Worst are the twins. Along with an occasional Smokescreen and Hot rod thrown into the mix.

"That seems a little vague." He says, ploddings towards his desk.

"Hardly. It's just a little scolding I've got from ultra Magnus."

" What did you do to warrants such a transgression from the commander? Nothing too severe, I suppose?"

"That's for Wheeljack to decide. All I did was follow what the twins told me to do.

He sets you on the table, turning around to sort his datapads while you brought your legs to your chest, crossing your arms and perching your chin on top of it.

"Twins?" He frowned, tossing aside a datapad that read: Base Report #096.

"Sunstreaker? Sideswipe? The twins?" You list off. "...Don't tell me you forgot them too."

"I've got better things to remember." He tosses aside another report. Battle plans. Classified information. Blueprints.A digit points to his helm. “ Hard copies are unreliable. They're easily taken advantage of if not stored safely. That is why it is essential my processors are clear of any 'irrelevant' information."

You rolled your eyes. “Right. Red black. Yellow black. I don't see how hard it is for you to remember primary colors."

"Perceptor is also red and black."

"But you remember him."

"Only because he is my direct liaison to the Scientific district." Prowl turns halfway to you and you can see the quirk of a smile. "He's worth remembering." A pause. “And I suppose," He goes back to his desk. "You are too."

Silence. Prowl's door wings flick up straight as he fully faces you. You observed the unusual blue hue on his cheeks, though. Are those...?

"What did they tell you?" He asked, organizing the datapads

There was a pause as you observed him for a moment.

"Promise me you won't laugh."

He shoots you a look. "I don't laugh.”

"You do."

"Only when it's necessary."

"That's a 'somtime."

"A probability close to half."

You groaned. "Its just some stupid joke they've managed to rook me into. Tell me, what the hell does frag mean?"

His door wings flick up, just as his lips does. " Why, its an equivalent to your, ah, well — equivalent to the curse word—"

" Fuck?" You finish for him since it was obvious Prowl would take a lifetime to enunciate that word.

"How...tragic."

"Oh, please—"

"I'm going to assume they've tricked you into uttering it beside the commander?"

You crawled towaeds him, "They said it means rest! Can you believe that? Everytime I needed a break they told me to use 'frag' since it practically means the same! Except Cybertronian? Can you imagine the humiliation when I realized ice been going around telling bots that I need a frag? To everyone?!"

He scoops you up into his servos,and you noticed the surface lightly shook. You look up and is greeted by the crescent crease of his optics.

"Laugh and I'll pour water on your datapads."

He starts moving again, still unable to hide his sounds of amusement. " I admit that's a little—"

" It's terrible!"

"Yes, very terrible." Prowl sits on the edge of the berth, adjusting his position as he leans back, you perched on his chassis. " You have my condolences."

" Now, everyone thinks I'm some player with a desire to bag all bots in this base!" You hid your face into your palms. The memories of this morning resurfaces and the burn sears into a scalding heat. "This is— they're not even my type.....i don't even— ugh. Take me, now."

"Not unless you've taken the lives of the twins first."

You look up. Prowl is looking down softly.

"Oh, I will." You crawl up, tucking yourself under his chin. "Tommorow. They're never going to escape."

"An apple for an eye?" His voice rumbles as he spoke. A digit curls out and rubs your back.

"A paint job for a paint job." You leaned close into the cables of his neck.

"Sunstreaker adores his finish..." He mumbled.

"That's why I'll give it a little mishap."

[fallisl1fe]

The Sound Of Breaking Glass

I found it incredibly difficult to find James Roberts "The Sound of Breaking Glass" online. This story is extremely important to understanding MTMTE after the Luna 1 arc, but was not scanned by readallcomics.com. Therefore, I made a digital copy for other MTMTE fans to read since one of my goals is to make the story and art more accessible to everyone.

Disclaimer: I do NOT claim this as my own! All credit goes to James Roberts, the author of MTMTE. Bookmark this and read it after finishing issue #21 of MTMTE if you haven't already since there are heavy spoilers! Additionally, there may be small typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive any that you find, I am a single person and cannot catch every error.

I made this for a great friend, and I hope others find this useful as well <3

Story under the cut

The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye

“The Sound of Breaking Glass” in issue #21 of MTMTE, 2013

By James Roberts, author and creator of the series

Digital copy by fallisl1fe on tumblr (w/ minor fixes to grammar to make the viewer experience as best as possible, along with formatting differences to better fit online readers)

—

“That is pungent,” said Minimus Ambus, tapping the side of his nose and recalibrating his olfactory sensors, “Is that the spacebridge?”

“The greater the distance covered,” said Rodimus, “the stronger the smell. That’s what Wheeljacks says, anyway.”

They were standing in Tyrest’s Control Room watching Brainstorm, Grapple, and Inferno sift through the wreckage of the spacebridge.

“Do you think Tyrest did it?” Said Minimus, “A doorway to Cyberutopia?”

Rodimus tried to shrug, but his body—still tender after being pulverized by the Killswitch—was having none of it. “Dunno about Cyberutopia, but Skids says the portal took him somewhere. He’s not making much sense, admittedly; it’s all, ‘I saw a giant spark and it spoke to me in feelings…’” he snapped his shoulder hydraulics back into position. “Rung thinks he experiences a form of trans-lingual synesthesia, whatever that is. In time, perhaps he’ll—careful, Grapple! Set it down gently!”

“You’re busy,” said Minimus, stepping away. “We’ll talk later.”

Rodimus pressed his communicator to his ear.

“Just let me make a few calls…”

Call 1: “Actually, Perceptor, I think finding Tyrest’s communications room is a priority. He had a computer that would have—no, hear me out. If he could reach his Enforcer wherever he was in the galaxy, surely we can reach Cybertron?”

Call 2: “No, still no sign of… Ratchet, if we find Pharma’s body I will tell you. I will call you. Yes. Yes, obviously. And what about tailgate, any news? No, no, I understand. Keep me posted.”

Call 3: “Just land outside, Max. Anywhere! What sacred ground? Oh, the hot spot. Okay, see the big tower by the smelting pool? Park alongside that.”

Call 4: “I’m smiling, I am! I’m getting—Minimus is giving me a funny look because I’m standing here smiling. Nice one, Perceptor. Let me know as soon as you get it working.”

It occured to Minimus that Rodimus had given more orders in the space of three minutes than he had in the last 12 months. “You look like you’re about to fall apart,” he said, as Rodimus finally turned off his communicator.

“I’m fine.”

Minimus tapped his leader’s bicep. A hunk of machinery and buckled plating slid to the ground.

“Well I’m not about to bother Ratchet now, am I?” Said Rodimus, stepping delicately out of the pool of his own body parts. “Not when he’s got Tailgate to worry about.”

In the 40 minutes since Tailgate’s collapse, the team of engineers, medics and mechanics in Pharma’s well-stocked medibay had discovered the cure to four infamous Cybertronian diseases. Under normal circumstances, an Autobot who solved the problem of form fatigue or static spark syndrome would have  punched the air and yelped with delight. Today, with Tailgate’s death clock creeping towards zero, they merely smiled, put the latest miracle formula to one side, and got back to work.

“You are tired, though,” insisted Minimus. “Mentallu, you’re exhausted.”

“I’m tired; other people are dead. Have you seen outside? There are hundreds of corpses out there—we’re talking half the circle of light. Now, if I can’t help them I can at least try to fix the spacebridge.”

Rodimus rocked on his heels as Inferno barged past and fired foam into a section of the spacebridge that had caught fire. When the foam ran out Inferno stamped on the flames, and with a sad thud another chunk of Tyrest’s precious patchwork portal hit the floor.

“Maybe it’s better that the spacebridge isn’t fixed,” said Minimjs slowly, seeing the look of horror on Rodimus’ face. “If it was fixed, it might make people think that our losses were worthwhile: ‘The ship was overrun and people died, but at least we found a way to get to Cyberutopia.’ I don’t want that. Do you?”

Ther was a sudden squeal of excitement, and Rodimus and minimus turned to see Brainstorm skipping around the remains of the Killswitch, holding his briefcase above his head. Beaming behind his faceplate, the weapons engineer jogged out of the Control Room, pausing only to tug playfully at Minimus Ambus’ moustache.

“Whatever happened to priorities?” Muttered Rodimus, frowning with disapproval. “Now Minimus—sorry, Magnus—what was it you wanted?”

“I was, um, wondering if you’d found my outer shell?”

“The one without a head?” Rodimus pointed across the room. “Storage locker. I thought you’d come looking for it.”

“Thank you,” said Minimus, turning to leave.

“Magnus, wait. Listen. When it was all kicking off—when I was being wired into the Killswitch—you and I, we…” Rodimus paused to test the depth of a newly discovered dent in his forehead. “We came clean, didn’t we?” I told you about Overlord and… yeah.”

Minimus waited for him to continue.

“I am going to do something about it, you know. I’m going to—”

“Make amends. So you said.”

—

Rung looked up from the table at the sound of breaking glass and saw Fortress Maximus pulling his boot from the remains of a displaced engex canister. Max wasn’t really to blame: it was impossible to walk across swerve’s ransacked bar without treading on something breakable.

“Thank you for seeing me,” said Fortress Maximus, sitting down opposite Rung. He tilted his head and realized that the shards of tinted glass in front of the ship’s psychiatrist bore a strong resemblance to Ark 5. “You know I’d have been happy to meet you in your office.”

“My office is full of dead Legislators,” said Rung, pushing a drink across the table. Fortress maximus swirled the room temperature engex around the glass, watching the luminous pink liquid crest and collapse. “Ive been made an offer. A new position. Rodimus was impressed by my handlig of the Legislator invasion—which is ridiculous, frankly, because all I did was let them take over the ship…” he sipped his drink; it tasted bad. “Anyway. Yes, a new position.”

“Congratulations. I’m pleased for you.”

A second sip, “I don’t know whether to accept.” Rung turned his friend’s empty glass on its side; it made a decent rear thruster. 

“You don’t think you’ve earned it?”

“Oh, I know I haven’t ‘earned’ it. This isn’t about ‘earning’ it. This is about whether I’m cured or not. The shooting spree—that’s in the past. I mean—hell—it’s easy for me to say that, but…” he slumped a little in his chair, “I feel like myself again. Like I did before Overlord attacked Garrus 9.” Rung swept the mosaic aside and put his elbows on the table.

“You’re not ‘cured’ because you were never diseased. But the fact you’re asking these questions—of me, of yourself—is good, Max. It’s really good.”

“But do you think I might come unstuck again?”

“I think you’re ready for whatever is around the corner. As ready as the rest of us,” Rung reached across the table and unclenched his friend’s fist, “But promise me: if your thoughts run away with you, come find me. Ten floors down.”

“Ten floors down?”

“My office is ten floors below the Bridge. I assume that’s where you’ll be, if you’re going to be third in command?”

“Who said anything about being third in command? Rung, this new position—it means I have to leave the Lost Light.”

—

As Rodimus stepped into his office he shielded his eyes—literally put his hand to his face—to avoid catching the sight of the flames he’d had painted around the doorframe. As soon as he’d sorted out the current mess he’d ask Atomizer to help him redecorate. No more fire-rimmed  entrances, garish pink walls or self-aggrandizing plaques: just a deak, a chair, some subdued lighting and a memorial to crewmembers killed by sparkeater, Legislator, or Overlord.

Overlord.

When his guard was down—when he wasn’t showing off or doodling or spray-painting—the name made him think of the people who had died or lost loved ones because he’d been too scared to say no to Prowl. Overlord made him think of Pipes and Rewind and Chromedome and Lockstock and Lancet, but one face—Drift’s face—kept crowding out all the others. It had been here, in his office, that they’d had their last proper conversation.

“An inquiry?” Drift stood in the doorway, looking incredulous. “An inquiry?” Rodimus dragged him inside and locked the door. “I had to do something! People were asking questions! And what do you do if you want to stall things? You launch and inquiry,” He slumped into his chair. “An inquiry into something I’m responsible for. Oh god. Oh god, I feel sick. I’ve messed up big time.”

“I can sort this out, Rodimus. Honestly I can fix this.”

“This is my fault, not yours. We were standing in Prowl’s office, and he was trying to convince me that bringing Overlord onboard was ‘right and proper’, and you called me an idiot for even considering it.”

“Was I that blunt?

“I don’t know why he even let you in on those discussions in the first place. Its not like he trusts you.”

“I’ll tell you exactly why he wanted me there: it was in case something like this happened. Need a scapegoat? Get an ex-Decepticon.”

“Well it’s not gonna happen. I’m taking the fall for this one. Your name doesn’t have to come into it. It’s taken you years to win back people’s trust, and you’re not throwing it all away on my behalf.”

“Rodimus, if you tell the crew what you’ve done, then that’s it. The quest’s over. We’ll never find the Knights.”

“No, it just means someone else will take over. You, maybe? Ratchet? I dunno. Someone.”

“But someone doesn’t take over!”

Rodimus looked up sharply, “‘Doesn’t’?’”

“Won’t”

“You said ‘doesn’t.’ What d’you mean ‘doesn’t?’”

“It’s hard to explain what I mean,” Drift unclipped his Great Sword and placed it on the desk. 

“You remember when I nearly died, back on Cybertron? I was within feet of Vector Sigma.”

“Yes…” said Rodimus slowly, unsure where this was going.

“When I put this sword through my spark, I saw something.”

“What, like a vision?”

“Kind of. More of a sense of how things would play out. It was abstract and it was fleeting, and every time I call it to mind it becomes harder to interpret, but something is around the corner, Rodimus—and a year from now, or 50 years from now, that something will arrive, and we won’t be able to stop it unless we find the knights. And I don’t care if you think, ‘Oh, that’s just Drift being Drift,’ because I’m convinced that you need to remain in charge. People can come and go—they can die—but you have to be here, otherwise we will fail. And so the simple solution—the only solution—is that I take the blame for this.”

“I won’t let you do this for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for everyone else.” 

—

“Hey, what are you two doing in here? Are you… looting? I expected it of you, Fort Max, you light-fingered rogue, but Rung?!”

A grinning Swerve skipped across the room and went to vault over the bar. He caught his boot on an engex pump and fell face-first into the serving space on the other side. A second later, a solitary wheel rolled out from behind the bar, circled Rung’s leg three times, and toppled over.

“Save you innermost energon,” said Swerve, clambering to his feet, “I am unharmed!”

“You seem… reinvigorated,” said Fortress Maximus.

“Saved a life, Max, saved a life. Tailgate! Lives! On!” He threw an energon goodie into the air and almost caught it in his mouth. “Who says you can’t be a metallurgist and a bartender?”

Swerve’s grin left his face as he saw a silhouette in the doorway: head, legs, arms, briefcase.

“I’d like a word with Chatterbox in private,” said Brainstorm, fishing a barstool from the wreckage and sitting down. “You gonna do this place up Swerve?”

“That’s the plan, yeah.”

“Good. Because people come here and they talk, and I need you to keep your ears open.”

“For what? What am I listening out for?”

“I think…” Brainstorm looked over his shoulder to check that Rung and Fortress Maximus had left. “I think someone’s tampered with the briefcase. It looks like someone’s opened it, and I want to know who.”

“Easy. Just look for the guy with no head.”

Brainstorm laughed and clapped Swerve on the shoulder, agitating an old injury and making the bartender flinch. Brainstorm continued to laugh until Swerve joined in, at which point he grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him close. “It’s not funny. Opening the briefcase when I’m not around is very far from being a sensible thing to do.” He climbed off the stool. “So… any idle chatter and you come to me. Are we clear?”

Serve nodded—but not, Brainstorm realized, in agreement. The nod was directing his attention downwards, to the green light escaping from his chest plate. Before Swerve could say anything, Brainstorm smothered the leaking light with his briefcase and fled the room.

—

Number 2:

Satisfied that the energon transfusion was having the intended effect and that the key points of articulation—waist, knees, elbows—were responding to his touch, Ratchet left Tailgate sleeping on the circuit slab. With the stab wounds in his chest and back patched up, the Waste Disposal Expert looked freshly forged. Sadly, that was just on the outside;before the anti-corrosives had forced it into remission, his rampaging cybercrosis had caused so much internal damage that when he’d collapsed in Tyrest’s Control Room, it had sounded like someone punching a bucket of nails.

Before administering the anti-corrosives, Ratchet had bled Tailgate’s body, opening the vents and traps designed to keep energon, oil and petrolex from escaping. Swerve had laid claim to the slops, saying he intended to run some tests. (It was nice that he was taking an interest, thought Ratchet, even if he wasn’t prepared to give up his day job.) Now, all that was left was to wait for Tailgate’s resurgent spark to build itself up until it could sustain him without the assistance of a life support machine.

Ratchet walked into the morgue, went to open one of the body-lockers, and stiffened as he sensed someone behind him. Minimus Ambus was standing in the doorway wearing the bottom section of the Magnus Armor, his wrist-thin legs plugged into a pair of massive kneecaps.

“Hello, Ratchet,” said Minimus sheepishly, tottering into the room as if on stilts. “The armor’s easy to take off but hell to put on, especially by yourself. I wondered if you could help. I can talk you through the process, give you instructions.”

“I’m impressed you were able to sneak up on me,” said Ratchet, kneeling down to examine the point where Minimus’ right leg disappeared into the Magnus Armor. He tapped 13 hidden pressure pads in quick succession and the armor rose up and wrapped itself more tightly around Minimus’ leg. Minimus watched a confident Ratchet do the same—13 taps—with the other leg. “How long have you known?” He said quietly.

“About you and the armor? Ooh, quite a while now.”

“But how? The armor is filled with these attention deflectors…”

“That work for all of five seconds,” Ratchet climbed to his feet and wiped his hands. “You might as well use smoke and mirrors. And quite frankly, I’m a little insulted that you’d think I’d be fooled”

“You never said anything…”

“Why would I say anything? ‘Hey, Ultra Magnus, I know your secret.’ Why would I say that? What would that achieve? I didn’t say anything to the others, either.”

“You knew the other Magnuses?”

“Suture, Datum, Ramp, Blockus—all the way back to the original.”

“What was he like?”

“He wasn’t like you, that’s for sure.”

Minimus looked hurt. “Well, thanks for the assistance. I think I can out the rest on by myself.”

“No two Magnuses are alike,” continued Ratchet, worried that he’d said the wrong thing. “But because people assume they’re the same person, they make allowances without realizing it. I’ve known you longer than any of your predecessors, and maybe that’s why, to me—and I know this sounds strange—you’re the true Ultra Magnus.”

Minimus gave a nod of—what? Understanding? Gratitude? He wasn’t sure, but he left the medibay feeling ten times taller, and it had nothing to do with the armor on his feet.

Ratchet turned back to the body-locker, slid a key in the lock, and braced himself. The body inside was different to all the other bodies in the morgue: it was alive.

—

“Anything?”

Rodimus pressed his foot gently against the lunar landscape as if testing the temperature of bath water.

“No. Nothing.” He pushed down harder—with his heel, this time. “Still nothing.”

“Are you sure this is the place?” Asked Getaway, who was standing on a Mobile Autobot Repair Bay that was hovering a few feet off the ground. 

“Mountain range to the left,” muttered Rodimus, flicking a thumb towards the horizon. He dropped to his hands and knees and pressed his cheek against the silver surface, hoping to detect weak heat or distant movement.

“Last time, this whole place lit up the moment I stepped off the M.A.R.B Millions of sparks, from here to the horizon. This—this sea of electric blue. VOMPF!”

“I’m no expert,” said Getaway, “but hot spots don’t normally blink in and out of existence. They ignite, they stay ignited.”

“True, but they’re not normally ignited by someone treading on them.” Rodimus sat on the edge of Getaway’s M.A.R.B. and scanned the resolutely un-illuminated landscape; the hot spot’s stubborn dormancy registered as yet another personal failure. “Then again, you have to harvest surface sparks quickly, otherwise they… evaporate isn’t the right word, but you know what I mean. Maybe we just missed our chance.”

Getaway jumped to the ground, gave it a quick tap (why pass up an opportunity to find out you were a Matrix-Bearer-in-waiting?) and sat down next to Rodimus. Sensing his despondency, he gave him a playful jab—”bomp”—on the upper arm. “What now, then?”

Rodimus reached into a compartment in his waist and pulled out the remains of the Matrix. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do,” he said, scattering the cloudy fragments over the ground, “but I feel we should do something, mark the passing of Luna 1’s lost generation.”

“I hope I don’t have to arrest you for littering,” came a new voice, and Rodimus and Getaway turned to see a second M.A.R.B. heading their way.

“Arrest me?” Said Rodimus, “Does that mean what I think it means?”

Fortress Maximus skidded to a midair stop and smiled. “The newly-appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, reporting for service.”

“Good decision, Max, good decision. Just because Tyrest lost the plot, it doesn’t mean there’s not work to be done.”

“Thank you for your faith in me.”

“Happy to accept the thanks, but it was Magnus who wanted this to happen. He said his successor should…” His voice trailed off as someone stepped out from behind Fortress Maximus.

“Red Alert?”

“Captain, I want to apologize for—”

“Stop right there. No apologies. Not on my ship.”

“But I can’t imagine the inconvenience I caused by my decision to, um, remove myself from the field of play.”

“Nonsense. You were under tremendous pressure. O,ay, so you didn’t feel able to confide in me, but that says more about my failings as a leader than anything else.” He pictured Ultra Magnus listening to him and nodding sagely at his words.

“Ratchet’s brought me up to speed,” said Red Alert, “I know that some of the Circle of Light are staying behind, and that you intend for Tyrest’s body to remain here too, and I—”

“We’ve built a secure room in the medibay,” interrupted Rodimus, pointing vaguely in the direction of what had been Tyrest’s base of operations. “We’ve stabilized Tyrest but he won’t be resuscitated until I’ve spoken to High Command—and they’ve decided what to do with him.”

“My point, Rodimus, is that I’d like to stay here.” He held up a hand to forestall Rodimus’s protests. “We all know there are pockets of rogue Decepticons out there. I can help the Circle of Light prepare for the possibility of attack. I’m already thinking that we could reprogram the… what are they called, Legislators? We could reprogram the Legislators to act as the moon’s protectors.”

“I think with you and Fort Max, Luna 1 is going to be in safe hands. Just promise to stay in touch!”

“Actually, Rodimus, that’s why we’re here. Perceptor’s been trying to reach you.”

Rodimus turned his communicator back on and nodded towards the hot spot.

“Sorry, I was expecting to be busy with the…” he looked up, “what did Perceptor want?”

—

“You said you wanted to contact Cybertron as soon as I got this working,” said Perceptor, gesturing to a monitor screen that took up an entire wall of the Communications Room. Rodimus craned his neck.

“That. Is. Massive.” He beckoned Getaway, Red Alert and Fortress Maximus over, “Who else wants one of these on the Lost Light?”

“I intend to replicate the comms system without the oversized monitor,” said Perceptor, taking his seat at the operating console, “But first… dialing Kimia now, captain.” 

Rodimus clapped his hands, “Right! Good! Let’s surprise Bumblebee!”

“I hope he’s alright,” said Red Alert, as the screen filled with static.

“Course he’s alright! I bet within 48 hours of us leaving Cybertron he’d talked the NAILs ‘round, taught the ‘Cons the error of their ways, and become Cybertron’s first democratically-elected postwar leader. You’ll see—any second now he’ll be waving his little cane at us, telling us about the New Golden Age…”

Getaway was the first to detect a picture amongst the static, “What’s that? Some kind of emblem? It’s not an Autobot symbol, that’s for sure.” He read the words underneath the emblem as soon as they appeared. “‘Welcome to the Republic of Cybertron.’”

“You see?” Rodimus turned to the others, “You see? He’s brought the whole planet together. Good old Bee. Good old brilliant Bee.”

“That’s not Bumblebee,” said Fortress Maximus.

“Don’t tell me Prowl is screening his calls…” Rodimus muttered, turning back to the screen.

Starscream looked down at him and grinned, “Well, well, well. What a lovely surprise.”

Post Script

Being entirely mechanical, Outrigger had never experienced breathlessness before, but running down half a mile of corridor and cutting across the hot spot put such a strain on his aging servos that when he crashed into Red Alert’s office it took him a moment—bent in half and clamoring at the doorframe—before he was able to speak.

“He just moved!”

Red Alert  helped Outrigger to his feet. Weren’t members of the Circle of Light supposed to be prime physical specimens? Weren’t they supposed to be high-shine, chrome-coated überbots, their bodies and minds sharper and more deadly than the Great Sword they carried on their backs?

“Sorry, Red. I’d have called you, but I know you don’t like using your communicator because you think it interferes with your—”

“Brainwaves, yes, yes. Forget that. Who just moved?”

“Tyrest!”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” said Red Alert as they approached Luna 1’s medibay a few minutes later, “but unless someone repairs him properly, Tyrest’s going to be paralyzed forever. Maybe you saw the shadows move?”

“There are no shadows in the medibay,” said Outrigger, pointing at the locked room in the corner, “Take a look. Tell me I’m seeing things.” Red Alert took a step close, suddenly wary.

“How did he move, exactly? Did he twitch! Was it a spasm?”

“No, nothing like that. It was very… considered.” Red Alert checked the door—still locked—and then out his eye against the peephole.

“It was his fingers,” continued Outrigger, “The fingers on his right hand. It looked he was going to clench his fist.”

“Get Fortress Maximus,” said Red Alert, face still pressed against the door.

“Why? What should I tell him?”

“Tell him Tyrest has gone.”

[leahrintarou]

☠︎︎ DAY TWO: EDGING FT. KUROO ☠︎︎

☠︎︎ WARNINGS: desperately horny kuroo, sub!kuroo, fem reader, teasing, reverse pleasure, y/n gives, kuroo recieves.

☠︎︎ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

"y/nnnnn!" she groaned at the sound of her boyfriend repeatedly calling her name over and over again. this has been going on for the past seven minutes and each time, she'd adjust the volume of the tv to a higher setting.

slightly rolling her eye's when kurros voice followed after his own footsteps making its way down the staircase, he called her name once again. "y/nnn, i could've been dying and you're just ignoring me"

she only turned a deaf ear to kuroo's pleas, making him lazily slouch onto the empty space of the sofa. he gently grabbed her wrist and placed her relaxed digits over the growing erection hidden under the fabric of his shorts.

he placed his own palm over y/n's hand, applying some kind of pressure. "i'm hard and you've been ignoring me so, now that i've gotten your attention, the least you could do i make me feel good.. right?"

y/n's eye's slightly widened, hesitantly turning her attention towards kuroo. "and you ask for my help by sounding like a stuck record and calling my name every five seconds?" y/n's fingers slightly adjusted against his gradually hardening erection causing a sharp breath to pass through his teeth. "well, it got me what i wanted, didn't it?".

"trust me, you're not gonna want this"

"whatever you say, pretty" y/n hummed to kuroo's words, knowing that his cocky demeanor will soon melt into nothing with a couple of sensitive touches. she suddenly applied an immense amount of pressure onto his print, feeling the grip of kuroo's own palm slightly tighten around her hand.

using her unoccupied hand, she removed kuroo's grip from her occupied one, giving him nothing to actually grasp onto other than the throw pillow that rested next to him. y/n made swift movement's, sitting up and hurdling a leg over his thighs, now straddling his figure.

she heard the staggered sigh leave her boyfriend's lips, signifying his usual impatience. examining his sudden, lust filled expression, y/n decided to shift her position, to rest her clothed core against the length of kuroo's erection. he let out a small whine at the pressure that was suddenly applied, and it only became drawn out when y/n swayed her hips to meet his own.

"you've been louder than this before, you trying to keep your pride?" with her word's, kuroo uncontrollably tightened the muscle in his abdomen, the line between accepting his guilty pleasure and keeping his cocky facade suddenly becoming a blur.

y/n reached beside her, taking the tv's remote into her hold, aiming it at the sensor to adjust the volume to zero. "w-what was that for?" he asked through staggering breaths, his movement suddenly becoming uncontrollable. "i wanna hear you"

she slid her hand under the hem of kurro t-shirt, resting her palm against his waist, feeling satisfaction due to the way he shivered slightly from her touch. she carefully rubbed her thumb against his warm skin, leaning down to place small kisses to his neck.

kuroo only tilted his head a bit, giving y/n more access. with the hand that rested under his shirt, she parted from his skin and assisted kuroo with pulling the restricting fabric over his head. "fuck, this isn't fair, y/n"

"you're the one who wanted my help" y/n smiled before placing chaste pecks onto kuroo's chest, she practically felt his heartbeat quicken against her lips. he whined at her expected response because, afterall, he knew y/n well enough to know that she would never have an intimate moment if it didn't include teasing the living soul out of him.

but today, y/n did feel generous enough to give kuroo at least a small bit of satisfaction. hooking two digits into the hem of his sweat-shorts, she teasingly pulled it down, just enough to expose his v-line. placing small taps to the muscles indention, she let out a hum when she saw his veins become more prominent in his arm when his grip tightened onto the throw pillow.

"you're loving this, aren't you, tetsu?"

"quite the fucking opposite, your teasing feels unbearable when it's anywhere but-" kuroo's words stopped when he felt y/n firmly palm his restrained erection. "here?" she finished his sentence. kuroo couldn't manage to fathom a reply since his voice was occupied with a low moan.

y/n finally pulled down kuroo's shorts, leaving the loose hem to rest on his mid-thighs. when y/n finally looked up at him, she placed a small kiss onto his lips before mumbling a quick apology. "for what?"

"you'll find out soon enough"

y/n focused her gaze to kuroo's now complete erection. she finally realized why he was being so needy and impatient. he was desperately in need of a release and it was evident by the way he stiffened into her fist when she wrapped her hand around his member. he let out a breathy swear, lazily leaning his head back and onto the sofa's perimeter. "more"

y/n made fast and smooth movements with her wrist, jerking kuroo into her tightly wrapped fist. his hips uncontrollably contorted and bucked upwards, making y/n place a firm palm to his pelvis, lessening the intensity of his movements. "y/n-fuck"

small incoherent babbles fell from kuroo's lips, the last set of curses coming out as a silent plea when his erection jerked in y/n's hold. y/n immediately released her grip around kuroo, he let out a whine of frustration at the lost pleasure. his breathing was unsteady and tears were resting on the hem of his bottom lashline when his eyes shut tightly.

the liquid escaped from their place, slowly drifting down his facial structure. y/n leaned forward before placed her lips next to his ear. "i told you, you wouldn't have wanted this" she mumbled. a sharp breath once again passed though his teeth.

"y/n..just- please let me cum"

to be quite honest, y/n did feel a bit bad due to the fact that he'd been actually quite patient despite his words. kuroo didn't touch himself, he let y/n hear all of his pleasure filled noises, and he tried his hardest to keep himself together.

rewrapping her hand around kuroo's painful erection, she used her thumb, swiping it across his tip to spread his precum around the entirety of his member, hips bucking against her palm. "y/n...i'm s-sensitive" he said through hitched breaths. letting out a hum and nodding at kuroos warning, y/n continued her previous movements, wrist moving gracefully to please him.

this time, the pressure of her palm against his pelvis was a bit lighter, causing his hips to visibly buck into y/n's fist. kuroo was practically positive that y/n would only continue the cycle of working him up just to forbid him from releasing but, a sigh of relief left his lips at y/n's next words.

"tetsu, you can cum now"

kuroo's hips repeatdly bucked with every stroke of y/n's hand, she had no choice but to reapply the heavier pressure on his pelvis to keep his bucking hips, slightly steady. letting out whining moans of y/n's name, he felt satisfied when he felt the warm liquid pump from his tip and onto his tensed abdomen.

his watery eye's looked up to y/n. she was focused on the liquid that slowly drooled down the back of her hand, still pumping his softening member til he'd let her know that he was satisfied enough. kuroo lifted a shaky hand to grasp y/n's wrist, stopping her movements so he wouldn't suffer from overstimulation.

"you're no fun" she said through a sigh when her hand was removed from his member.

"and you're too much fun"

[the-fiction-witch]

The Baby Mistake

Media - The Maze Runner Series AU Characters - Newt Couples - Newt X Reader Reader - Y/n Blue eyes Red hair Rating - 15 Word Count - 3512

Screams of pain and fear reverberated through the dimly lit hallways of the hospital, the sound muffled by the raging storm outside. The windows and doors of the hospital had been sealed tightly to keep away the harsh onslaught of wind and rain. The power outage caused by the storm had left the hospital relying solely on its backup power supply, which was quickly dwindling. The corridors were shrouded in darkness, with only sensor lights flickering to life as nurses and doctors hurried through the passageways. In every room, staff and patients alike were given strict orders to conserve as much power as possible, leaving many areas of the hospital in shadow. Everyone could only hope and pray for the storm to pass quickly, knowing that the limited power supply was their only lifeline amid the chaos.

Two rooms sat occupied where the screams sounded from.

In one laid Y/n and her husband Peter,

Peter passed the room watching the storm more than his wife, as Y/n laid on the bed screaming out in agony as her baby forced its way out of her.

On the other sat Lillian and her husband Newt,

Lillian cried and screamed pushing Newt's hand away as he desperately tried to comfort her through the pain as her own baby made its way out.

It wasn't long before both small babies arrived, two little girls.

The mothers held them tightly in their arms ushering the girls with kisses,

Y/n held her daughter alone, Peter taking a moment elsewhere.

Newt and Lillian held their daughter together sweetly cooing at her beauty even when covered in fluids.

Y/n looked into the girl's little blue eyes and decided there and then, she would name her daughter Anastasia, before handing her over to the nurse for the various checks.

Lillian already had planned her daughter's name, she looked to Newt and he nodded with a smile, and they both knew without even a word that they would name their daughter Florence. Lillian begged for a few more moments but Newt convinced her to hand over little Florence to be taken for the checks so they could get some rest.

The two nurses rushed through the dark stormy halls to the midwife's office. Each sitting the newborns into the small plastic cribs.

"Aren't they sweet," One cooed,

"They both are, born within a minute it's always interesting to see." The other chuckled,

"True, hand me the pen I'll get writing." she said,

So the other nurses threw her the pen to write on the plastic cribs as they had no access to their digital paperwork.

But just before the pen reached the surface, a latch locking one of the windows broke, the window hurtling open sending wind and rain rushing in.

The cribs ran on their wheels across the room from the harsh winds, unnoticed by the nurses but the cribs changed position putting Anastasia on the right and Florence on the left.

One nurse ran to shut the window again, and the other to grab the cribs before they ran into each other or worse the wall.

Once the window was shut both took a fast breath and sighed in relief quickly taking the pen and writing Florence on the right, and Anastasia on the left.

"Come on let's get all the tests done and get these two back to the parents."

Florence woke as usual to her alarm, sitting up and picking up her glasses from her bedside sitting them firmly on her nose. Before she hopped out of bed, she grabbed her uniform from her chair where it had been carefully laid out the night before. She dressed and pulled her bright red hair into a long braid down one shoulder. She slipped on her shoes and hurried downstairs to the kitchen where Newt stood.

"Awww There she is!" He cooed setting down the pan he was cooking with to give Florence a huge hug wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead, "Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!" He sang to her,

"Daddy!" she giggled,

"How's my little bluebell on her special day?" He asked tapping her nose,

"Very happy,"

"I'm glad, go on get sat down. I'll finish up with your bacon and eggs." He cooed,

Florence nodded sitting at the table and loading her bag with her books from doing homework last night. "Daddy?"

"Umm yes?" he cooed,

"Can we go out tonight?"

"Of course, we can go out tonight. Anywhere special you wanted to go for your birthday?"

"... To go see Mummy?"

Newt softly smiled, "Course. We will go see her as soon as I pick you up from school and then we can get something nice for your birthday dinner."

"Thank you, Daddy," she cooed hugging him tight,

"You're welcome my little bluebell." he cooed, "ooh and before I forget, those notes you wanted for your science class today," he laughed grabbing the brown envelope from the counter,

"Oooh! Thank you!" she smiled putting them in her bag,

"What are you up to this week anyway?"

"Genetics." She nodded, "Everyone's gonna make loads of punnet squares and look over our genetics."

"Ooh sounds like lots of fun." He cooed, "Now eat up, we wouldn't want you to be late." He smiled,

Anastasia woke to her alarm blaring, as it had been for the last ten minutes. She groaned dragged herself out of bed and got herself dressed into her cheerleading uniform. She then sat at her vanity doing her skincare and makeup pulling her blonde hair into a high pony. Before grabbing her bag and heading downstairs where Y/n stood making breakfast,

"Good Morning Birthday girl," Y/n smiled at her,

"Hi, Mom," Anastasia said taking a seat and crossing her arms,

"What's the matter?" Y/n asked,

"I can't believe I have to go to class on my birthday!"

"I know, I know. It's not fun." Y/n sighed,

"I don't know why you couldn't just sign me out for the day, say I have the doctor or whatever."

"I'm not lying to the school about an absence Anastasia. I get enough calls about you skipping classes as it is. But it's only a few hours, then you can come home we'll go spend that gift card your father sent over for your birthday and we can get dinner someplace nice."

"Fine." Anastasia sighed, "Is Dad at least gonna call this year?"

"... I don't think so honey, I'm sorry," Y/n said sadly,

"Whatever." she sighed,

"Ohh and here put this is in your bag," Y/n handed over some folded papers,

"What is it?" Anastasia sighed,

"The genetic's info you need for your project, in your science class."

"Do I have -"

"Yes. You have to do it. I got the email about it."

"Fine. Let's just go."

Florence headed straight to her locker to get her books and paperwork for science class, before rushing into the classroom early to take her seat.

Anastasia hid away under the stairwells with her fellow cheerleaders, until a teacher forced them to walk to class. She was the last one in the room slunking over and sitting in her chair beside Florence.

"What?" Anastasia snapped as she noticed Florence looking at her,

"I- I just wanted to say, Happy Birthday Anastasia."

"...Thanks."

"It uhh it's my birthday too,"

"...Hu... weird."

"Okay, class!" The teacher spoke up, "As you know we are doing our genetics project, I did remind you all last week to bring in your parent's information, and I did send an email home so hopefully we shouldn't have any issues. Now remember you make your square with your mother's information at the top and your father's side. This is graded as your end-of-term project so go ham with those coloured pens. Any issues just raise your hands."

Anastasia raised her hand immediately,

"Yes, Anastasia?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

"Nice try, you just had lunch." The teacher chuckled,

She rolled her eyes and grabbed some paper to at least fake that she was working,

Florence happily got along with her work pulling out the envelope Newt had given her and making a first draft of her square already planning in her mind all the cutouts, cards and colours she'd add to her work.

Florence added her mother.

Lillian. Blonde hair. Green eyes. Blood Type A.

Then her father,

Newt. Blonde hair. Brown yes. Blood Type A.

And finally, she added herself,

Florence. Red Hair. Blue eyes. Blood Type B.

She pondered for a while but noticed no matter how she did it, it didn't seem to work. She tried and tried but no matter what she did it never seemed to work out right.

Anastasia sighed and slowly did the work too mostly coping with what Florence had done following the papers her mother gave her.

First her mother.

Y/n. Red hair. Blue eyes. Blood Type B.

Then her father.

Peter. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Blood Type B.

Then herself.

Anastasia. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. Blood Type A.

Immediately she saw her own didn't work and put her hand up,

"Yes What is it now Anastasia?"

"Doesn't work." she snapped,

"Excuse me?"

"It doesn't work."

"Let me see... Humm... that's interesting... perhaps the uhhh the brown eyes could be a dominant recessive gene, perhaps from your grandparents?"

"Nope. Blue or green."

"...Humm that is strange... and the blood types... are you sure your mother gave you the correct information?"

"Yes! So what did I do it wrong or something?"

"No. I... Let me call your mom..."

"Actually Mr Rodgers, Mine doesn't work either," Florence spoke up,

"Humm... that is strange... Ohh! I see." He said, "You two must have mixed up your papers. See now it all makes sense girls."

"No! This is my paper I know it do you think I'm dumb!" Anastasia complained,

"I'm positive sir. I haven't even put my paper down. and it's in my daddy's writing." Florence added,

"You still call him your daddy?" Anastasia laughed,

"Yes, I do."

"That is so cringe, you sound like five!"

"Just cause you don't see yours!"

"Shut the fuck up, you little nerd!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Girls! Enough!" Mr Rodgers shouted, "Both of you, principles office. I'm calling your parents."

Newt rushed into the school checked in and bolted down the corridor to the principal's office, he was sweaty and gasping as he got there and found Y/n already sitting there with a coffee in her hand.

"Where's My daughter?!"

"Isolation room with mine I assume." Y/n shrugged, "Sit down he's dealing with a tack incident."

"And that's more important than my daughter!" he yelled, "Sorry... I uhh... I've never."

"Take a seat. He takes his time." she said patting the chair beside her, "I apologise in advance for anything my daughter did to yours."

"Your daughter did something to mine!"

"No! No!... It's okay. It's okay. I have no idea what happened they didn't say."

"Yeah, didn't tell me either." He sighed, "Sorry I'm uh not used to this at all, had to call out of work. Florence is a good little girl the only time I've been called to the office is when she won a science prize."

"This is not my first rodeo. Pretty sure they have me on speed dial in the office nowadays." she sighed, "but...Yeah, mine is not winning anything so I have no clue." She said, "... they usualy call the moms."

"Yeah..." He sighed, "She's uhh... not with us anymore."

"Sorry-"

"It's okay. You didn't know. It was years ago." He said, "And uhh your little girl's dad?"

"Oh god- if they can get ahold of him feel free to lecture him about her." she sighed, "God knows where he is. He could be building a motel at the top of Everest for all I know."

"Sorry."

"It's fine, Happy not to be around him." she chuckled, "it is gonna be a little awkward I turned Steven down for a fourth date."

"Steven- Mr Archer!" He gasped,

"Yeah..."

"You went on three dates with your daughter's principal?"

"I'm here a lot. He asked." she shrugged, "What about you? Any potential stepmom's?"

"No." He chuckled a little, "I don't even think I've been on a date since Lillian died."

"Really? Handsome guy like you?" She chuckled,

Newt blushed a little not used to being complimented, "T-Thank you, I uhh I have to admit I'm surprised you're not remarried. You are really cute." He smiled back at her,

"Daddy!" Florence called out as Mr Rodger's brought the girls down from Isolation,

"Florence! My little bluebell!" Newt bolted up and pulled her into a hug, "Are you okay? what happened?"

"What did you do!" Y/n asked,

"I didn't do anything!" Anastasia snapped.

"Can we all just calm down?" The principal Steven Archer sighed as he emerged from his office sending a young boy back to class, "Now if we can all get on."

Everyone filtered into the office with Mr Rodgers standing by Mr Archer's desk, Newt sitting with Florence and Y/n sitting with Anastasia.

"It appears there was a bit of a shouting match in Science this morning."

"A shouting match?" Newt asked in disbelief,

Y/n just sighed,

"yes, we were working on our genetic projects and the girls had a bit of trouble. It uhh it seemed their information just didn't add up quite right and a few insults were thrown back and forth but nothing more," Mr Rodgers explained,

"I see. Well, I'll let both young ladies off with a warning as it was nothing more, but I want you both to apologize." Mr Archer demanded,

"Of course, I'm sorry Anastasia," Florence spoke up,

Anastasia rolled her eyes before she spoke, "Sorry Florence."

"Thank you." Mr Archer nodded,

"But before we all go I would like to know... can we just double check these, it is part of their end-of-term project and... frankly it doesn't make any sense."

Both Newt and Y/n checked over the information and both agreed it was correct, but Mr Rodgers explained how it just wasn't possible. Outward of some incredible medical anomaly, and how strange it was that with a simple swap of the girls over it would perfectly fit adding on to their shared birthday it was agreed Newt and Y/n would take the girls into the doctor's and get this checked out.

Y/n invited Newt back to the house and the two sat having coffee still going over the paperwork from the doctors. They kept debating how on earth this could have happened. The girls sat on the couch, Florence reading her book and Anastasia on her phone.

"Well I know one thing, I'm going to see the lawyer tomorrow." Y/n sighed,

"Ohh yeah. One hundred percent. I am happy to go in with you on this." Newt agreed, "I will write whatever statements are need."

"Thank you," she nodded, "So... what do we do about this? We've been raising each other's kids with no idea."

"I have no clue... I mean, I've raised Florence well Anastasia well... You're daughter. For the last fifteen years."

"I know, I love Anastasia more than anything." she explained, "But... I don't want to take Florence from you...but also don't want to be without Anastasia... it's a weird situation."

"We could... do like joined custody?"

"seems messy."

"True."

"Should I just take Anastasia then and you take Florence?"

"No. I still want us to see them." she sighed, "I guess we could try keeping our Biological kids and have weekends with the raised."

"Yeah, that sounds good." he agreed, "But keep their names are they are? to avoid confusion for us... and for them."

"Yeah, I think that's fair."

Y/n made her way up to the guest room that she'd put Florence in for now to give her time to adjust to everything. But found her on the bed crying.

"Florence, what's the matter sweetheart?"

"I miss my daddy." She softly whimpered,

"You uhh... you mean-"

"Not... this daddy. My daddy."

"I know... this is complicated." Y/n sighed taking her hand, "I know this is hard to get used to. But today I promise we can do whatever you want go wherever you like. We can go shopping?"

"I don't really like shopping,"

"Ohh okay, we could go for a run maybe to the gym together?"

"No thank you."

"Is there anything you wanna do sweetheart?"

"Can we go for a walk? To see my mummy... not you. I mean other mummy."

"Of course." She agreed,

Newt sat looking over his calendar trying to plan out the next week's meals just as Anastasia came down.

"Ahh hi honey," he smiled,

"Hey." she blankly spat,

"So I was thinking you and I could spend a nice day together, Saturdays were always for me and uhh... for me and Florence."

"Eww who spends Saturday with their dad? I'm going out."

"Oh? Where? with who?"

"The mall. with my friends."

"Did you ask?"

"No."

"Then you're not going."

"What the hell!"

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady."

"You're not my dad!"

"Yes, I am!" He yelled, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to yell, I know this is a strange situation Anastasia but you can't just shout at me and go around without asking me."

"I'm going to the mall to look at makeup not like I'm out at a house party or anything,"

"Nevertheless, you didn't ask and you're fifteen so either we can go out together or we can stay home whichever you like."

"Ugh!" She yelled,

Y/n finished up her make-up and grabbed her handbag as she headed downstairs,

Florence sat on the couch her head in a book as usual, "You look really pretty,"

"Awww thank you, sweetheart," She smiled,

"You going anywhere special?"

"Mhm, my date says he's taking me out for dinner and dancing."

"Oooooooh,"

"Yeah it should be fun," she smiled,

Just then the doorbell rang,

"Would you like me to get it?"

"That would be very kind thank you,"

Florence happily went to get the door and immediately she smiled, "DADDY!" she jumped into Newt's arms,

"Hey there bluebell," He cooed,

"Did you come to visit me!"

"I uhh I'm not actually here to see you tonight but I am very happy to see you of course,"

"Oh... then why are you here?"

"Well, I uhh..."

"Hey," Y/n smiled,

"Hey," Newt blushed a little the two sharing a quick kiss,

"Gross." Anastasia glared forcing her way inside and sitting down on the couch,

"You girls have fun okay." Y/n smiled,

"Not likely." Anastasia snapped,

"Ana enough." Newt glared,

she scoffed,

"Anastasia," Y/n warned,

"Fine."

"Thank you," Newt smiled at her giving Y/n's cheek another kiss, "I'll see you later okay Florence?"

"Okay," she nodded giving Newt another hug and Y/n one too before going inside to sit with Anastasia even if the two weren't really happy together.

"Come on let's go." Y/n laughed happily taking Newt's hand as they headed off on another date.

Y/n sipped her coffee trying desperately not to glare, Newt sat beside her adding sugar to his tea. The girls ignore each other as all four sit inside the mall.

"I do not know how to manage her,"

"I don't know, she's a strong-willed girl."

"I know It's probably just not be being used to it but... It's not getting any easier."

"I know how you feel, Florence is such an angel."

"Thank you," he smirked,

"You're welcome," she chuckled, "But she does... get under feet along."

"Clingy."

"Yeah... I'm just not used to having a kid who... likes spending time with me,"

"But we can't exactly swap them back now, what will they think of us... just cause we rasied them doesn't make them our kids."

"True."

"Hey. I want money." Anastasia glared,

"There should be a word somewhere there," Newt told her,

"Please." she glared,

"Okay... here is twenty." Newt began getting his wallet out and counting out twenty dollars for her but Anastasia took his whole wallet,

"I don't think so." Y/n glared grabbing it from her and handing it back to Newt, "Take Florence with you,"

"Eww no."

"Ana. Do it."

"Ughhhhh fine."

"Florence, come here sweetheart," Y/n cooed, "Here you go, twenty go and have fun."

"Thank you," she smiled, "Where do you wanna go first?" Florence asked taking the money,

"Makeup Obvi." Anastasia sighed,

"Ooh... I don't wear makeup,"

"You should."

"Ana!" Both Newt and Y/n warned,

"I'd like to go to the bookstore," Florence offered,

"No!" Anastasia glared,

"Please... can you take me then daddy or mother," Florence asked,

"Here how about this." Y/n took ten dollars from each girl, "There ten each go to the bookstore and take as long as you like, and then come back here and you can get the other then and go to the makeup store together,"

"Seriously? But I want make up not some gross old books."

"You don't need makeup you're lovely as you are, I'm sure you can find something you are interested in," Newt told her, "Florence can help you out I'm sure,"

Anastasia rolled her eyes but walked off so Florence followed happily behind,

Newt smiled taking Y/n's hand and kissing her, "You are a genius,"

"Thank you," she smirked,

"Now... do you think we get a little alone time now?"

"Yes we do," she smiled giving him another kiss,

Y/n yawned as she made her way down the stairs rubbing her eyes as she cradled little baby Lucas in her arms,

"Awww good morning my little boy," Newt smiled taking Lucas from her,

"Morning," she smiled giving him a tender kiss,

"Morning my beautiful wife," he cooed,

"Good Morning," Florence smiled hugging Y/n,

"Morning sweetheart," Y/n smiled,

"Hold still you'll mess it up," Anastasia told her trying to do Florence's eyeliner before school, "Morning,"

"Morning," Y/n smiled back, patting her head,

"All done, come on or we'll be late," Anastasia said grabbing her books,

"You girls have a good day," Y/n smiled,

"And remember both of you get above a B on that maths test it's pizza for dinner," Newt told them,

"We can hope," Florence chuckled as the girls headed out to walk to school,

"awww little boy's very squirmy this morning," Newt laughed as he held Lucas,

"Yeah, maybe he's in a mood,"

"Maybe he's been swapped by an imposter too." Newt laughed,

"No, no I'm positive. this little guy's ours." Y/n smiled fixing Lucas' soft blonde hair,

"I know, he's all ours." Newt smiled looking into Lucas's big blue eyes and kissing the boy on the nose. 

[inkysdrones]

*Pain. That's all she felt as blows hit her from all sides, making the 8 feet tall Predator Drone curl up in a fetal position. Jeers echoed in their auditory sensors as it's oil tainted the sparkly white ground with inky black. Go figure, it lets it's guard down and got ambused by a gang of 5 tough Worker Drones. Her optics were shut, digital tears going down her visor. If only she could scream for help. Would anyone arrive to this sad scene? *

( @thehunt-ison )

Scelene was just out walking when she heard the commotion, before her curiosity got the better of her. She decided to check it out only to watch the scene in front of her play out. Oh hell no. No way was she going to stand for this. "Oie! You better fuck off before I make you fuck off." Scelene bared her fangs at the other Worker Drones. "Pick on someone your own size assholes." The snarl turned to a smirk. "I'd be more than willing to take you all on." The smirk turned into a manic smile as the pink demonic drone tilted her head, walking over.

Whether the other drones would flee, or fight, didn't matter to Scelene. Even if they did decide to fight, she had taken on a larger group before with ease. Maybe it was the way she easily made herself as unnerving as possible, or the fact that this smaller drone was willing to take on this many others but whatever the case, the other workers clearly didn't want to deal with this nutcase, and quickly scattered.

Once the others left Scelene scoffed and walked over to the cowering predator drone. "Hey." She tilted her head looking them over. "They're gone.. Why didn't you just.. Stick up for yourself?" She asked, her arms crossed over her chest, clearly unimpressed.

@thehunt-ison

[cybertroniannugget]

Hello hello and Guten Tag!

I saw your post and wanted to try to help with the writing ideas. Maybe give you a little challenge? 🤷‍♀️

Anywhizzle, idea time!

TFPSmokescreen x Cybertronian!reader who is a medicbot

Smokescreen is trying to impress reader with his skills and fighting. What he fails to realize is that reader is also skilled in hand to hand combat and easily knocks him off his peds.

Romantic or platonic. Smokey needs love and a wee slice of humble pie.

Ich wünsche Ihnen einen schönen Morgen/Nachmittag/Abend!

Hallo und Guten Abend, a fellow German I see.

He sure does need a slice of that humble pie xD

And I am here to deliver, hope you like it.

And thanks for requesting.^^

Medics do know how to fight

(I just love that picture lmao)

About this fic: sfw, gn reader, some romance

851 words

"I doubt medics know how to fight. I mean Ratchet surely does but THEM?"

"If I were you Smokescreen, I wouldn't be saying that...", Bulkhead chimed in, a hint of worry in his tone of voice.

"Pff nahh, am I right doctor?"

You just roll your optics in annoyance, continuing on working on the task Ratchet gave you, back to the others.

Atleast he stopped calling you doc, so that's gotta be something.

Yes you may be a medic in training but oh was he wrong with that statement of his.

"Look? They're not even replying, because they know I'm soo right."

You turned around to face the white red and blue bot, who had his arms crossed before his chassis so full of himself.

"Oh really Smokey?"

"Hey, you know I hate that nickname!"

"Fine, I will stop using it IF, you win against me in a 1v1."

"Oh, it's so on!"

"But", you add, raising a single digit at him. "If I win, I'm gonna call you that for as long as I shall live. And no more making fun of medics, I mean it"

"Pff, humans call that child's play."

Raising an optic ridge, you step away from the console, attention now fully on him.

"Go on.", you try to encourage him.

"At least step away from my equipment...", Ratchet grumbled.

Not wanting to have wrenches flying your direction you do as you're told.

"So, wanna start?"

"And no guns for Primus' sake!"

You chuckle

"Alrighty Ratch!"

The bot infront of you turned to stand in a fighting position, fists raised to the height of his chest.

Game on.

He went for a frontal attack, which your easily dodged by ducking and turning to the side.

You counter with a light blow to his side, making him stumble.

"Are you even trying? Or am I just too good to-"

And that sentence of his was cut right off as you went forward, ducked again and kicked his pedes away, making him fall right onto his face, taking a box down with him.

"I needed that!", Ratchet yelled furiously.

"Ow"

"I may be a medic, but I surely know how to fight. Next time you underestimate me I won't go so easy on you."

"Ha, they busted you Smoky!", Miko laughed, pointing at the red blue and white colored bot, who was now slowly standing up, rubbing his helm in pain.

"And they surely got that sass from old Ratchet..", Smokescreen mumbled under his breath.

A wrench came flying his way from across the hall, which you catched easily right after your sensors detected it.

"And I got mad reflexes so better watch out from now on."

"Okay, let me get this straight.", Miko spoke up again. "They busted your metal ass AND saved you. Damn, you're so in their debt!"

The she comes to a complete halt, holding onto the railing while looking directly at the Smokescreen, her eyes wide.

"You were trying to impress them!", she exclaimed, jumping once and pointing at Smokescreen.

"Smoky is in love, Smoky is in love!", she declared, jumping around excitedly.

"WHAT?!", you and the mostly silver bot said simultaneously, exchanging a rather flustered look.

"Oooh and they love you too. Robot romance yayy"

"Miko...", Bulkhead reprimanded her.

"Whaat? It's true Bulk! They're in love!", she said, gesturing wildly towards the two of you while looking up at her guardian.

"We've got two lovebirds.", she explained proudly, hands on her hips now.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge, looking between you and a now very flustered Smokescreen.

"Well finally it's official. I can't stand you two pining for each other any longer.", the medic said, rolling his optics, going right back to work afterwards.

Indignant, you finally turn to speak.

"And what makes you ALL think that we're in love?!"

"Oh please, I've seen the way you look at eachother. And you would NEVER accept to a fight like this.", Arcee mentioned, arms crossed over her chassis.

"I could not help but notice a tension you two hold.", Optimus adds, who had been silently watching until now.

"Not you too Prime..."

You clear your throat.

"Yeah sure whatever..."

While cleaning up the mess you two created, you made sure not to look at Smokescreen, who couldn't take his optics off of you.

Sure, he was cute and you mayyyybee caught feelings, but it couldn't have been THAT obvious. Right?!

"You fight pretty good for a medic."

You shoot a glare at him.

"I mean, you fight really good.", he corrected himself. "No more making fun of medics, I know."

You chuckle, nudging his side. "You're not too bad yourself Smokey."

His helm turns toward you.

"What? I won, so you're Smokey from now on."

"I love you!", he blurted out, covering his intake with both servos immediately after.

You laugh, placing a servo on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, the feeling's mutual."

You two stand up straight and you put the now tidy box on top of a counter.

"Who are we kidding? Even Miko figured something was up. Might as well indulge and make it official, don't you think?"

The bot nods. "Yeah, you're right."

"I know I am, better get used to it."

"Pff"