#Check Engine Light Solutions

[germanautodoctorsimivalley]

Check Engine Light Solutions in Simi Valley | Expert Diagnostics & Repairs

Check Engine Light Solutions in Simi Valley | Expert Diagnostics & Repairs Introduction The check engine light is one of the most common yet frustrating issues for car owners. When it appears, it signals potential problems that require immediate attention. At German Auto Doctor Simi Valley, we provide expert check engine light solutions to diagnose and resolve issues efficiently.

Understanding the Check Engine Light

What Does the Check Engine Light Mean?

The check engine light is part of your vehicle’s onboard diagnostics system. When it turns on, it means your car’s computer has detected an issue with the engine, emissions, or other essential systems.

Common Causes of the Check Engine Light

Loose or Faulty Gas Cap: A loose cap can trigger the warning light.

Faulty Oxygen Sensor: It affects fuel efficiency and emissions.

Bad Spark Plugs: Worn plugs reduce engine performance.

Malfunctioning Mass Airflow Sensor: It impacts the air-fuel mixture.

Catalytic Converter Failure: A failing converter increases emissions and reduces power.

Signs You Shouldn’t Ignore

Ignoring the check engine light can lead to severe engine damage and costly repairs. Key warning signs include:

Flashing Check Engine Light: Indicates a severe issue requiring immediate attention.

Loss of Power: Reduced acceleration may indicate engine trouble.

Unusual Noises: Knocking or rattling sounds could mean internal damage.

Increased Fuel Consumption: A sudden drop in mileage suggests a system malfunction.

Rough Idling or Stalling: An inconsistent engine idle needs immediate inspection.

Expert Check Engine Light Services

Advanced Computer Diagnostics

We use state-of-the-art diagnostic tools to identify the root cause of your check engine light warning. Our technicians provide accurate readings and recommend the best solutions.

Engine Performance Testing

We perform thorough inspections to ensure your engine is running efficiently. If issues arise, we take corrective measures.

Oxygen Sensor and Spark Plug Replacement

A faulty oxygen sensor or worn spark plugs can affect performance. We replace these components with high-quality OEM parts.

Mass Airflow Sensor and Fuel System Repairs

We clean or replace the mass airflow sensor to restore proper fuel efficiency and airflow balance.

Catalytic Converter and Exhaust System Services

A damaged catalytic converter affects emissions and fuel economy. We diagnose and repair exhaust system issues.

Why Choose German Auto Doctor Simi Valley?

Certified European Auto Technicians

Our team specializes in diagnosing and repairing BMW, Mercedes-Benz, Audi, Volkswagen, Porsche, and other European brands using cutting-edge equipment.

High-Quality OEM Parts

We use OEM or high-quality aftermarket components to ensure longevity and peak vehicle performance.

Transparent Pricing and Honest Service

We provide detailed diagnostic reports with upfront pricing, so you know what to expect.

Commitment to Customer Satisfaction

We prioritize your safety and vehicle performance, ensuring all repairs meet high standards.

Preventative Maintenance Tips

Regular Oil Changes

Clean oil keeps your engine running smoothly and prevents sludge buildup.

Check Your Gas Cap

A loose or damaged gas cap can trigger the check engine light.

Replace Air and Fuel Filters

Clean filters improve engine performance and efficiency.

Monitor Your Vehicle’s Performance

Unusual changes in acceleration or fuel economy should be addressed immediately.

Schedule Routine Inspections

Regular maintenance prevents small issues from becoming costly repairs.

Conclusion

A check engine light is your car’s way of warning you about potential issues. At German Auto Doctor Simi Valley, we provide expert check engine light solutions to diagnose and fix problems efficiently. Schedule an appointment today!

[renaultmechanic]

Renault car warning signals you should never ignore as a car owner

[m1autorepair]

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[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 3

Masterpost - Ao3

Content warning: This chapter involves depiction of a train derailment and subsequent fire throughout. There is also brief mention of death. I will be putting a brief summary in the description if you prefer not to read this part.

Danny jolts up from his fitful sleep. He’s intangible and invisible before he’s even fully sitting up and he’s in the air before he registers the loud boom that woke him. Any concerns about his bright transformation are made totally irrelevant by the warning sirens blaring in his head.

Wait, no. Those are real sirens.

In the distance, lights are now accompanying the sirens; flashing as they speed down what looks like main street. It’s pretty clear where they’re going too, from the violent orange glow cascading over the tops of the nearby buildings.

I knew it, Danny thinks, flying towards whatever disaster is unfolding. probably it’s stupid to get involved, when he still knows so little about this place, but- well, old habits die hard. It doesn’t take long for the problem to become obvious, and Danny freezes as he struggles to process the scene before him.

The metal carnage is nothing like Danny’s ever seen before; what looks to be a freight train has derailed at the worst possible location, sending its cars careening into the various apartment buildings and stores on the east side of town, and to make matters worse, one of them has clearly crashed straight into the gas station by the freeway, and fire is spreading faster than Danny could have imagined.

Danny can already see two buildings blazing, but he quickly focuses his attention towards the carnage of the train itself. Luckily it’s fairly obvious what direction it was headed, and Danny moves fast, looking for the engine. In ghost form, physical sensations always feel a little more distant but even through that, Danny can feel his heart rabbiting in his chest. Luckily it takes less than a minute to find the engine, but as he approaches it, the presence of death catches in his throat, and he immediately knows it’s a lost cause.

He can’t sense any actual ghosts, though, so instead Danny whips around to stare at the derailed cars. He’s far more used to fighting than he is rescues, but he can hardly just ignore the possibility of people trapped, so he carefully begins phasing through the wreckage, searching and listening for signs of anyone. Already, people are starting to gather outside; both those who were nearby and those who have managed to escape on their own, and Danny is careful to maintain his invisibility as he works. 

Danny’s made it through about half the wreck by the time he spots the firetrucks arriving, he’s pretty certain that nobody’s trapped under any of the cars, and he’s also thinking more clearly. The fire has also gotten worse now, and Danny watches as fully equipped firefighters spill out onto the street, already jumping to work as the fire chief shouts out orders. Some rush to start battling the flames, but others head towards the crowd.

They’re getting headcounts, Danny realizes. It seems so obvious in retrospect, but of course, Danny would have to be visible to check with anyone. And now that they’re here, anything he tries to do in secret would probably just make things harder. There is, of course, an easy solution to that, but- Danny has yet to find any evidence that all the meta stuff is anything but propaganda.

Even as Danny considers the dilemma, he knows what he’s going to do. He’s survived danger before, after all, and if he can keep people from assuming ghost, then he’ll have an advantage on them even if it comes to the worst. Besides, there’s that whole great powers-great responsibility thing, so in a way, it’s kind of his responsibility...

Danny floats out of the wreckage before shifting into visibility, figuring it’s probably polite to approach in their field of sight.

“What can I do to help?” Danny asks, causing most of the crowd to stare in shock. Belatedly he realizes he’s still floating, but actually that’s probably a good thing. Makes it clear he’s a meta right off the bat, at least

“New hero, huh? Powerset?” The man responds promptly, leveling Danny with an even gaze. Probably the lack of shock is a good thing. Probably.

“Uh, flight obviously, enhanced strength as well, and um... The ability to turn people and things intangible?” Danny responds promptly. It’s far from his full set, but he figures those are the most relevant, and keeping most of his tricks under his sleeve makes him feel better about what he’s doing.

“Is the fire gonna hurt you? I’m not sending some kid in there to die of third degree burns or smoke inhalation.” The man frowns, giving Danny the distinct feeling he’s not particularly impressed with Danny’s answer.

“Oh! Yeah, no, I’ll be fine! I like, don’t exactly need to breathe? And I’m fine in extreme heat too, so it shouldn’t be a problem...” Danny trails off and the head firefighter narrows his eyes as he tries not to flinch at the assessing look. To Danny’s right, someone shouts and when he turns to look, he sees a firefighter wave their arm and plant some kind of flag before moving on. No longer paying attention to Danny, the chief walks over and speaks to another firefighter. Danny wonders if he’s been dismissed, but before he can do anything, the chief calls out to him.

“Alright kid, you’re up, I guess,” he says, when Danny walks over. “We don’t know how injured he is, so do not move him, but if you’re strong enough to move this stuff fast and safe, that’ll be a damn good help.” He gestures to the twisted mess that Danny’s pretty sure was the edge of a building. 

Danny nods, stepping forward to examine the rubble. The firefighter that spotted the man points to a couple beams.

“Those beams are protecting him from the worst of it right now, but we’ll need to move them in order to get him out, so you gotta make sure that there’s nothing that’ll fall on him him when you move them.” 

“Righty-o,” Danny says, stepping forward to grab the two support beams he’d pointed too. He carefully examines the rubble collapsed around and over it. It’s sort of like a puzzle, he realizes - not quite the same as fixing his parents tech; certainly nothing here is supposed to be smashed together like that, but-

Danny blinks and refocuses. If he  just moves a few things first, he thinks he can get enough cleared away and just intange the beams. He tries to be fast as he does, without forgetting the emphasis the chief had put on safety, and after a few moments, he’s ready to move the beams. He gets into a good position, and then carefully makes them intangible, ready to react if anything bad happens. When nothing does, he carefully pulls them up and away, watching as the waiting firefighters rush in and start to work on actually extracting the guy.

He watches for a bit as a backboard appears and they begin a very slow and careful process of getting the guy onto it.

“Kid,” the chief calls, pulling Danny’s attention away.The chief guides him towards one of the buildings that’s on fire. “Got two people trapped on the third floor here. The stairs are unsafe, so if you can, get yourself up there, locate them, and get them out.”

Danny nods, not waiting for further instruction. He flies up two floors, and goes straight through the wall with his intangibility. The majority of this building isn’t terribly damaged, but one side has collapsed in on itself so if that’s where the stairs were, he can understand the difficulty. The air inside is already thick with smoke, and he quickly stops breathing, belatedly remembering that he’s supposed to not get smoke inhalation. Luckily, it doesn’t take long to catch the sound of voices, and Danny follows it to a room where two people are huddled next to an open window. Right, that’s a smart way to limit the danger of the smoke.

“Rides here!” Danny announces cheerfully, dropping his intangibility. Both people startle as they spot him, but one recovers relatively quickly.

“Him first,” they say, nodding towards their companion, who definitely looks more dazed.

“Right, here we go!” Danny says, stepping forward, and scooping the person up, and wasting no time flying directly through the building, and down to the waiting paramedics. There’s no stretcher currently available, so Danny gently sets them on the ground away from the worst of the smoke, before flying back to get the other person. They’re already standing up, and waste no time in wrapping their arms around his neck as he picks them up and flies them out to the medics as well.

Danny hardly has time to set the person down, before the chief is pulling him away again. They send him in to save a couple other trapped people, but after that, it sounds like everybody is accounted for, because the chief starts focusing all their energy on putting out the fire, rather than just containing it.

Danny is surprised to find himself pulled into helping with this part too. He gets assigned to a fire attack team, and Danny trails along after the two firefighters as the enter the building and begin to fight the fire from the inside.Occasionally, one of them will point at some piece of wall or ceiling and ask him to check what’s on the other side. He goes where they say, looking for signs of the fire, and when he does spot flames, occasionally tearing stuff down so they can get to it with their fire hose. It’s honestly a fascinating process. Danny’s never been anywhere near a major fire and the fact that the firefighters actually do more damage to the building as they work echoes in Danny’s brain as a morbid refrain.

What they’re doing is clearly working though, because he can actually feel the ambient temperature going down as time goes on. He briefly wonders if he should be trying to use his ice powers when one of his teammates complains about how hot it is, but they have protection, and he doesn’t want to risk any more info on him getting out. And anyways, he’s busy enough just doing his job. By the time they leave the building, Danny is exhausted. The interrupted night’s sleep is making itself known, alongside the surprising realization that Danny has actually worked harder tonight than he ever has before.

He lets himself half-collapse against a wall beside one of the fire trucks, once they finish their work putting out the fire. Beside him, his teammates are divesting themselves of their gear. it’s funny, Danny was anxious about revealing himself at first, but this whole night - and Danny belatedly realizes the sun is beginning to drift above the horizon now - he’s not been scared at all. Sure he’s been worried; with people in danger he’s hardly going to feel good, but in the last few hours he’s both worked harder than he has in any of his fights, and he’s done it without feeling terrible. Now, with just everyone accounted for and just about all of them either fine or in the hands of doctors, he feels odd.

It’s not a bad feeling or anything, kind of like when he successfully beats a hard level in a video game, or how he used to feel when he finished science projects in middle school.

Satisfaction, he realizes. And that’s what it is, though it’s far stronger than any version of it that he’s ever felt before. He does have a lot to feel proud of too. He  helped, even though he wasn’t sure it was safe to, and he might’ve actually saved somebody’s life tonight.

“You did good, kid.” One of his teammates says, echoing Danny’s thoughts. He startles a bit, feels himself flushing, and then in his embarrassment, he feels himself tumble over into a full blush. It’s always felt more embarrassing blushing in his ghost form. The way his skin actually glows with the green tinge is just so obviously inhuman, and he tries to avoid, tries his best to seem normal and alive, even when he’s a ghost.

Of course, these people don’t know he’s a ghost, but from what he’s seen, most of the heroes out there at least look functionally human, and he waits for the firefighters around him to freak out at the reminder that he isn’t even remotely one of them.

“Damn,” one whistles. Green glow is a new one. Makes your freckles real cute though.” The others laugh, and the other of his teammates steps forward to pat him gently on the back.

“Stop embarrassing my new favorite hero,” the chief says, walking up to join them. “You gotta name?” 

“Oh, yeah!” Danny answers, desperate for a distraction from this line of conversation. “I’m Danny!”

“Danny,” the chief responds flatly. he almost sounds exasperated, though Danny can’t imagine why, unless...

Unless that absolutely sounds like he just introduced himself normal and they think he’s a hero and he sounds like a dumbass without a secret identity, which- technically isn’t exactly wrong. 

“Yup!” Danny says, trying to make it sound intentional. “Danny Phantom at your service! Y’know cause of the intangibility and like. It just sounded good?” There. That sounds plausible. If he actually does end up having to be a hero, though, he’ll probably need a different first name. If he gets a civilian identity, that is.

“Well, Phantom,” the chief grins, that same assessing look from before back, but noticeably more relaxed now that there’s no immediate danger. “We’re damn grateful for all your help, and if you need anything you come let us know, alright?”

“Yeah, one of his teammates echoes. “You’re an honorary firefighter now, you should come hang out at the station sometime!” A couple of the others echo the sentiment. It’s surprisingly kind, and Danny smiles at the unrelenting wave of welcome.

“I’ll think about it,” he offers uncertainly. “For now, I think I ought to go back to sleep for a few more hours.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Danny,” the chief says. “Just make sure to get something to eat first. You’ve burned a lot of calories today.”

“Yeah, will do,” Danny offers an awkward salute to the man, and then, before he can actually fall asleep standing up, he takes off to hunt down a good spot for a nap.

[poolofunidentifiedfluid]

Z’s Buddie fic recs

i read an ungodly amount of buddie fics and i felt the need to document them so these are my all time favs so far

ice cream before dinner | cloudydaisies | 58.5k | T

gerrard messes with the team's schedules and eddie 'i just drove my son to flee the state' diaz is the only option to watch mara and jee-yun after school on tuesdays, which, shouldn't be a problem at all, right?)

this one is so special to me i haven’t cried about a fic in a hot second

ripples all the way down | iriswests / @fcntasmas | 57.2k | M

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

no joke this may be one of my favorite fics ive ever read. just read it trust me

burn the straw house down | rarakiplin (gmontys) / @hoediaz | 40.2k | M

buck gets stuck in time, has a break down and then, relatedly, a break through

i had never read a timeloop au before so i was skeptical at first but this was beautiful and amazing and incredible no notes. i also am extremely attached to the oc in this :,) love this tremendously

Where the light enters | june_nights / @beecauseevan | 108k | M

Chris is 800 miles away, and Eddie's house feels emptier than ever. As always, Buck is right there, ready to have his back, to catch him without hesitation if he falls. This is familiar, this is normal, this is the way they've always been.This is fine, until it isn't.Until Eddie finds himself drawn to Buck in ways he never expected—ways that might not be so new at all.

i devoured this fic so quickly and i am a slow reader (if you have religious trauma definitely read the trigger warnings)

Leave the light on (I’ll be coming home) | HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania | 44.4k | M

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed.While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

love love love. any fic that brings the will into play i love since we havent gotten that in cannon :,)

upon reflection | jeremycarver / @louisdotmp3 | 24.8k | E

Buck and Eddie get into a friends with benefits situation that quickly spirals out of control.

they are stupid idiots and i love them dearly

if you leave the light on | cloudydaisies | 27.8k | G

the check engine light comes on in Buck's Jeep, Eddie volunteers to fix it and carpool with him in the meantime, and it all breaks down from there, literally and metaphorically

‘check engine light as an extended metaphor’ is a beautifully accurate tag

Half awake if our fake empire | HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania | 33.5k | T

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

buddie girl dads. you will see from the amount of buddie girl dads on this list and future lists that i have father issues but it makes for a great reading experience

The best lie is a truth (my best mask is my face) | letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels | 43.1k | E

The Buckleys are celebrating their 50th Anniversary, and Maddie and Buck are both expected to come. To take the heat off Maddie, Buck impulsively blurts out that he's seeing someone new. Obviously, there's only one solution: bring Eddie as his fake boyfriend, pretend to be in love with him, and survive the weekend with minimal bloodshed. No problem, except for the, uh. "Pretend" part. Oops.

captured the infuriating nature of the buckley parents perfectly

from the ground up | marviless / @marviless | 51.7k | T

the story of how buck discovers he has a six-year-old daughter, spirals a bit, becomes an astronaut in training, kisses the love of his life, makes lasagna, and learns that his heart might just be the perfect place to build a home, all in seven days.

once again girl dads have me in a chokehold

good pretender | likeshipsonthesea | 85k | E

an au where buck broke up with taylor before 5b, ravi and buck become (actually platonic) friends with benefits, and ravi, eddie, and buck all go on a journey of self-discovery that ends with them all getting what they need

therapy: expensive getting therapy through eddie diaz: free. demi eddie is so dear to me

[tinydefector]

Dude i am so hyped for your shockwave rut cycle fic. I have a party hat on and a party popper just stalking your blog waiting for it to drop

Shockwave Rut cycle

Sorry this took so long hand alot come up but it's finally here woooo.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut, giant/tiny, heat/ mating cycles. Valveplug, NSFW

Masterlist

Shockwave masterlist

Rut cycle masterlist

_____________

It wasn't often Shockwave was around this many Mechs let alone this many Humans in one place. It was all due to him working alongside Autobots in a hope of creating a blocker for their Rut. Shockwave was a logical Mech but even that didn't stop the effect of human Hormones on his system. They had been helping him with his test, providing Blood, sweat, skin and saliva samples for Shockwave,  they were polite and worked well with him despite being Autobot Allied. 

Shockwave's usual demeanour was faltering as he found himself in an unfamiliar situation. The effects of the human hormones on his systems were undeniable, stirring up a primal response within him, he had never had much of an issue with his cycle while on Cybertron due to not being around mechs and he could just force himself into more work. 

Shockwave couldn't ignore the way their scent seemed to envelop him, His internal systems buzzed with a need, joints and internal workings clicking and whirling as he busied himself, His logical mind battled against the primal instincts that now had him eager to take a rut mate. The allure of the human's scent, had him venting out in frustration. 

Their eyes flicker to him from their spot. "Is it getting bad?" Shockwave's optic focus in on them, the yellow hue cast a faint light across their skin. "It... it is a challenge," Shockwave admits, his voice strained, he was doing his best to stay focused but the lingering pheromones were making it difficult.  "The effects of your pheromones are proving to be... difficult to ignore."

Despite his best efforts to maintain control over his impulses, Shockwave can feel his old coding crying out with each passing moment. pushing him to the brink of giving in to his most basic instincts. He goes deathly silent as another deep vent of air hits Their skin. 

They take a short moment to process what he had said, eyes lingering on him watching the slight twitch in his frame as he continues to type down the effects. "Shockwave, how long does your rut last?"

"My rut... it can last for several cycles," Shockwave responds, his voice clinical and detached as he tries to maintain his composure. "Does it settle down for a while after you have mated?" They inquire. Shockwave's systems buzz at their question, a slight whine leaves His engine as his helm snaps back to them, optic aglow as he stares. 

" The effects of the rut do tend to subside for a time," Shockwave explains, As he speaks, Shockwave's thoughts swirl with conflicting emotions, where they inquiring out of scientific knowledge, spying for the Autobots or genuine concern for him. 

"So it would be more beneficial for you to have some release so you can continue your work?" 

"That is a logical assessment," Shockwave concedes, his voice betraying a hint of need. He looks away from them as he moves across the lab checking another reading of the test. He contemplates the human's suggestion, Shockwave finds himself torn between his commitment to his scientific pursuits and the primal urges that now threaten to overwhelm him. 

He didn't trust any of the other mechs and he doubted any would agree during the cycle, seeking release as a means of restoring his systems presents a tempting solution, but he did not wish to deal with the bureaucracy of both alliances. But the truth was it was impacting his work.  

“Shockwave, how can I help, I can see your mind working a hundred miles an hour” a soft smile graces their lips. 

 

Shockwave goes stiff, slowly looking over his shoulders at them. He takes a moment debating, "If you are willing to assist in providing a solution to alleviate the effects of my rut, it would involve a mutual agreement." As he speaks, Shockwave's processor analyses each move they make. “I'm willing to help Shockwave” they call back. 

It has the Decepticon scientist stalking towards them, frame vibrating and whining with each movement as he moves to pin them again the desk. 

"Fuck.... your really pent up aren't you?" There is worry in their voice which they try to mask as Shockwave runs a quick analysis. Their eyes nearly bulge when he releases his spike from its interface panel. a wave of relief that washes over him, as heated air leaves his frame. 

"I... I have been neglecting my own needs in pursuit of my work," Shockwave admits, his voice is gravelled and strained. "The effects of my rut have taken their toll.” 

"Can I touch?" Their eyes linger on his spike that slowly weeps Transfluid. his optics flickering with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "Proceed with caution," Shockwave responds. Their hands are rather small but they make a shutter and groan leave Shockwave when they come into contact with his spike. Fingers tracing over the lines and lights as they watch him. 

The sensation of their small hands tracing over the lines and lights of his spike ignites a primal hunger within him, urging him to seek more of their touch. Shockwave growls. 

They yelp as Shockwave roughly presses them onto the lab bench, caging them in underneath him as he looms over them. The slow drag of his spike across their body elicits a whine of need from the human, a sound that only serves to fuel his own primal urges to claim them as his.

"mine to claim," Shockwave growls, his voice low and commanding. As he hovers above the human, Shockwave allows himself to be consumed by the intoxicating smell of their skin, each touch and movement they make as another growl leaving him. As their thighs part to accommodate his movements, the intoxicating sensation of their bodies pressed together driving him to seek more of their touch. A low purr almost echo's from his frame. With slow, rhythmic rutting against them, Shockwave hunched over their smaller body. waves of pleasure ripple through his frame, the transfluid that soaks into their clothing. 

As his normal servo moves to hike up their shirt, discarding It as he studies them. "You are a creature of temptation," Shockwave murmurs, his voice laced with hunger. It's only when his servos Drift further down their body do they let out a loud whine. Shockwave is rather determined with ripping their pants off, only to be hit with an even more potent scent of their arousal, igniting a feral response within him. 

The sight of their exposed skin and the potent scent of their arousal fuel the flames. Spike leaks against them as he begins grinding against them, doing his best not to hurt them. "Please " they call out, shuttering as he drags his spike between their legs slowly teasing it against their sex. Their back arches as one of their hands grab his arm. 

Shockwave's systems hum with a mix of primal satisfaction as they surrender to him, pleading for him, their voice laced with need. The energon in his lines feel like fire. 

Shockwave presses his spike into them, so slowly as to not break them, using all his restraint. Their squeals as he grinds deeper into them their back arches as he rearranges their position.   

They cling to him, nails scratching against his paint. "Shockwave!" They call out. Shockwave feels a surge of satisfaction and arousal wash over him. The slow, deliberate thrusting between them elicits a chorus of moans and pleas, their arching back and collection of whines that fall from their lips has a deep rumble of contentment leave him. cry of his name, "Shockwave!", echoes in the air, a plea that spurs him on. He picks up pace, servo guiding them only his spike. The tight squeeze has him growling as he leans into them. Shockwave allows himself to be consumed by the intoxicating swirl of hormones, despite claiming every inch he physically could. 

Each drag of Shockwave's spike is followed by the symphony of moans and gasps that escape them. Shockwave continues to admire just how much of him they can take, watching each drag as transfluid leaks from their joint bodies. Another cry leaves them as Shockwave's spike begins to swell, locking them together, his Uneven thrust turning into deep grinds, his frame whines and gears grind towards loudly with a deep guttural growl from the Decepticon scientist.

"Shockwave!" The human's breathless cry of his name reverberates through him, The moment he overloads they squeal and squirm under him as he pumps transfluid deep into them. Eagerly rocking into them as his scenes slowly return feeling fulfilled and satisfacted. They twitch and whine even louder as they try to pull away only for Shockwave to roughly thrust into them again to keep them in place. 

“I require you to stay still” His voice sounds breathless as his helm tilts down and rest on the table they are pressed against. Each load of transfluid that is pumped into them, has whines leaving them. Transfluid running down the Junction of their legs. “Too Much” they try to argue only for more of the pink fluid to flood out of them as Shockwave presses deeper. At this rate Shockwave believe he might just have to come to an agreement to keep this human around. 

_________________

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[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part three: clean up

word count:

warnings: bone cracking, minor violence, some threats, a usual day in the mob life yktv

two | three | four

The night air was damp with the lingering scent of rain and blood.

Lando stepped out of her apartment building, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to his car. The streets were quiet now—too quiet. Just an hour ago, the space had been filled with the sound of a man begging for his life. Now, the city hummed with its usual indifference, as if nothing had ever happened.

He had stayed just long enough to be certain. No phone calls. No texts. No neighbors suspiciously knocking to ask what was wrong. She hadn’t told anyone.

Good girl.

He slid into the driver’s seat, checked his phone — no messages, no calls.

Finally, some fucking quiet.

Lando finally leaned against the back of his seat, long fingers wrapping themselves around the familiar steering of his McLaren 675 LT as he drove away. He drove without hurry, one hand loose on the wheel, the other resting against his temple as he exhaled a long, measured breath. The events weighed down on his shoulders — not with guilt, of course, never guilt– just the meticulous web of problems that needed to be untangled into solutions.

And the idiots he worked with? They were the biggest problem of the night.

His fingers tightened around the wheel, knuckles pressing white. He could still smell the iron tang of blood from earlier, the sharp memory of the gunshots ringing in his ears. He had done what needed to be done—handled the aftermath, cleaned up their mess. But the fact that he had to clean it up at all pissed him off.

He took a few turns through the empty streets before heading toward his house — a looming, intricate work of architecture nestled in the more quiet part of the  city. The headlights sliced through the dark as he pulled up to the wide cobblestone driveway, shutting the engine off before stepping out, his boots almost silent against the stone.

His own place was nothing like hers.

Large, sleek, classical — all marble and dark wood. A skyline view of the city stretched wide beyond huge church style windows, lights flickering like static against the black water of the pool. It was pristine, everything in its place, every surface immaculate. But that was the difference between a house and a home—he didn’t need comfort. He needed efficiency.

He stepped inside,  letting the heavy metal door slam behind him, the sound like a gunshot in the vast space. He turned and reactivated the alarm system from a side panel before shrugging off his jacket, letting it fall onto the back of a chair. The blood on his boot had dried by now, a small, insignificant detail, but he noticed it anyway. He always did.

Inside, the air was thick with sweat, smoke, and the stench of blood that hadn’t been properly cleaned up. A few men were already there laughing and talking, the remnants of their work sprawled out before them — discarded gloves, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, the stench of sweat and gun oil. They weren’t worried. They weren’t tense. They were acting like tonight hadn’t been a fucking disaster.

By the time he came up beside his seat, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves,  he was already seething. He stood and glared with the kind of measured posture that should have put them on edge.

It didn’t.

Because they were idiots.

Lando took his time stepping forward, peeling off his gloves, his gaze sharp and unreadable. He watched them—studied the way they barely acknowledged his arrival, how one of them laughed under his breath about something, how another flicked a cigarette against the ashtray with a lazy, unbothered wave.

It was insulting.

“You are all too comfortable,” Lando murmured, his voice a quiet blade.

Fewtrell is, of course, the first to notice. Once he goes quiet, the others are a lot quicker to be pulled out of the blissful ignorance of whatever nonsense they were blabbing about moments ago.

Conversation died instantly.

The three of them turned to face him, their relaxed postures stiffening under his gaze. They were good at a lot of things —intimidation, violence, making money— but it seemed like reading Lando’s moods was never one of them.

Which was a shame. He wasn’t in the mood to be patient.

Slowly, he reached for the whiskey bottle on the table, lifting it to the light. Amber liquid swirled lazily inside. He turned it in his grip, then—without warning—he slammed it down, shattering the glass into jagged shards across the wooden surface.

The men flinched.

Finally. Finally, they realized.

“You think tonight went well?” he asked, voice even. Controlled. “You think that was a clean job?”

Silence.

“Because from where I was standing, it looked sloppy.” His words came slow, deliberate. “Messy. Reckless.”

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table, watching as they shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.

“It was just some low-level asshole,” one of them muttered. “It’s not like he had protection. No one’s gonna come looking.”

Lando smiled. It was a sharp, humorless thing.

“You really think… that’s the fucking point?” he asked, voice deadly quiet.

The man swallowed.

“Are you all fucking stupid?”

One of them, Daniel —a lanky Australian bloke with a knack for fixing vehicles who’d been part of his team for a few years now— shifted, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Look, man, it was clean—”

Lando moved fast.

A sharp, brutal swing of his fist connected with Daniel’s ribs, knocking the breath out of him instantly. He staggered back, wheezing, but Lando didn’t let him recover. His hand shot out, gripping the front of Daniel’s shirt and yanking him forward until they were inches apart.

“Clean?” Lando echoed, his voice dripping with venom. “You brought him and dropped him in a place people actually walk through. You never sweeped the area. Then, you left a fucking body in the open? You idiot,” he seethes. “And now you’re standing here telling me it was clean?”

Daniel’s hands grasped Lando’s wrist, but he didn’t dare push him off. The others watched in tense silence, knowing better than to intervene.

Lando released him with a rough shove, sending him stumbling back onto a chair. He stepped around the table, slow, purposeful, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You guys got cocky,” he continued. “You were loud. You did it out in the open, like amateurs. And you left yourselves exposed.”

Another beat of silence.

Lando’s gaze flicked over them, assessing. He didn’t mention the witness—the quiet, bookish girl who had stumbled onto something she was never meant to see. He had handled it. They didn’t need to know.

“You don’t get paid to be stupid,” he said finally, his voice smooth as if they were merely discussing the weather, yet something about it had their hearts lodged in their throats. “You get paid to be precise. To be efficient. And if you ever,” he pauses, “-fuck up like that again, I won’t be cleaning up your mess. I’ll be cleaning up you.”

The threat sat heavy in the air, settling into their bones.

Good.

One of the men —Carlos, the Spanish man who had been in charge of planning tonight’s job— shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “It won’t happen again,” he said, accent curling at the ends of his quiet words.

Lando tilted his head, considering him. Then, in one fluid motion, he reached for the man’s hand resting on the table, grabbed his pinky, and snapped it.

Carlos howled, jerking back, but Lando kept him there, gripping his wrist in an iron hold as he leaned down to just beside Carlos’s ear, lowering his voice to something eerily calm.

“I know it won’t.”

He let go, stepping back, watching as Carlos cradled his mangled finger, his face twisted in pain.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Lando mused, wiping his hands on a napkin before tossing it onto the table alongside the rest of their earlier rubbish. “Now, clean this shit up. And next time? Get it right the first time, yeah?”

“I had to take care of a loose end tonight because you were sloppy,” he continued, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. Sharp eyes flicked between them, his lip curling in disgust. “I believe it should be clear by now that if you ever put me in that position again, I won’t be dealing with a loose end — I’ll be dealing directly with you.”

Silence.

No one spoke. No one even breathed too loudly.

Lando exhaled sharply, shaking out the lingering tension in his knuckles before rolling his shoulders back. He unfolded his collar, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt as though he hadn’t just threatened to kill them.

“Sort the body. Properly,” he said flatly. “Let’s see if you can actually do something right.”

They nodded, silent and obedient.

Lando turned on his heel, walking toward the grand staircase at center of the house without another word, not bothering to glance back.

By the time he got into his room, the remnants of his rage had dulled into something more calculating. He had made his point. They wouldn’t mess up again—not if they wanted to keep breathing.

And as for her —the girl wrapped in her blankets, now fast asleep in her too-small apartment, oblivious to the choices being made in her name— he still hadn’t decided what to do with her yet. He hadn’t brought her up, didn’t tell them how close they’d come to getting their ]ittle job tonight exposed because she was his problem now.

And if it ever came to it? 

He was more than willing to solve it himself.

a/n: thank you for the response so far! likes, comments, and reblogs are the fuel that motivates me to go work on the next chapter. lmk what you thought of this one!

[colonelarr0w]

Across the Universe

The JJK characters in various alternate universes!

INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

!TATTOO ARTIST GOJO is such a smug bastard — pearly skin adorned with intricate inked designs that each house their own specialized meaning and sparkling aquamarine eyes that search for you every time that the tiny shop bell dings. If it is you dropping by with a bag of his favorite takeout, he’ll momentarily pause with his client to lovingly greet you. Sure, it may annoy his client, but when it comes down to you, Satoru would allow cities to burn before his attention was ever pulled away from you.  

!TATTOO ARTIST GOJO is absolutely over the moon when you tell him that he can practice designs on you, offering him your arm or your leg with that smile that he can’t help but press a loving kiss to. He’ll make sure that you’re nice and comfortable before starting; he likely offers you a stress ball or something similar before getting to work. And once the piece is finished, he happily accepts the compliments (and kisses) you give him for doing such a beautiful job. (He also will not say no to the thousand Instagram pictures that you order him to take). 

!BIKER GETO is, quite literally, a doberman wearing a pristine leather jacket. So when you politely text him to pick you up from your girl’s night, he’s already grabbing your helmet and speeding his way from your shared apartment to whatever bar you were at. He tells you to stay put, that he would be there in ten minutes, and that he loved you. The moment that you hear his bike’s engine, you’re moving towards it like a moth to a garden light. He wastes no time in throwing his jacket over your shoulders and wrapping you up in his arms, tucking your face away and pressing comforting kisses against your hairline.  

!BIKER GETO absolutely adores the fact that you want to use his bike as a prop in your Instagram pictures, posing with the vehicle in an outfit that is planned to perfectly match the color of his bike. He doesn’t mind being your photographer at all, praising you and making sure that he gets all of your good angles. He also doesn’t mind helping you pick which ones to post — just as long as you make sure to tag him in them. And as long as you don’t mind him mercilessly attacking any other male in your comments that even dares to compliment you.  

!COWBOY NANAMI is an absolute sucker for the domestic mornings that you both share; he loves waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and occasionally, sausage. (Though he doesn’t like waking up to you not lying beside him, you making him breakfast is a very easy solution.) He loves coming downstairs to see you humming and dancing around the kitchen, wearing one of his button-ups that dwarfs you completely. He just loves how comfortable and in your element you are — you make him so incredibly soft. 

!COWBOY NANAMI is already picking out a ring after you meet his family for the first time … extended cousins and all. The little ones dance around your legs and compliment you in those adorable Southern accents, his aunts and uncles smile fondly at the way that you present yourself and talk about your relationship with him, and his parents are simply overjoyed at the little jewel that their son decided to bring home. His hand wraps comfortably around your waist — and in that smooth Southern accent that melts you into a puddle — he agrees with his parents’ compliments and sneaks in one of his own. 

!DAYCARE WORKER CHOSO doesn’t want to think that he likes you at first. After all, you only ever stopped by his room to check in on the little ones, other than that, you remained in the daycare’s main office working as an assistant to the owner. So then why does his heart flutter every time that you make your routine stop to his room? Why do his cheeks feel warm every time that you talk to him? Why does he never want you to leave every time that your checks are finished? Why doesn’t he ever want you to leave? 

!DAYCARE WORKER CHOSO who can’t help but smile a little wider when he watches you interact with the kids in his rooms on your days off; how you never fail to make sure that each and every child is accounted for and is included. And Choso also doesn’t fail to notice how the children light up when he mentions that you’re stopping by — already asking what toys you were going to bring and what games you were going to play. It warms his heart that they love you just as much as (if not more) than he does. 

!BLUE COLLAR WORKER TOJI who spots you on his lunch break, talking so prettily with your little gaggle of friends. The coffee cup in your hand is decorated with the deep red of your lipstick — it makes him wonder what shade of red it is (and how it would look on his skin). Of course, he can’t talk to you at that moment, but his coworkers make sure that you know that he’s interested in you. And sure, you don’t catch his gaze just yet, but he knows that it’s only a matter of time until you do.  

!BLUE COLLAR WORKER TOJI who all but melts into your arms when he returns home after a particularly long day, savoring the warmth of your arms and burying his face away into your shoulder. Your hands rub up and down the length of his spine, cooing sweet reassurances into his ear and pressing kisses against his temple. He can’t help but smile at the fact that he was being babied, but considering that it was you … who was he to say no?  

!BODYGUARD SUKUNA who, at first, is very cold and distanced from you — considering that it was your father who hired him and gave him the instruction to keep an eye on your every move and make sure that you were properly kept safe. His answers to you are short and clipped, spoken in a tone that is laced with venom. It only drives you further away from him, which both satisfies and frustrates him. He really does love you from the moment your words are directed at him, but because of his current situation, he pushes those feelings deep down and forces himself to forget about them. 

!BODYGUARD SUKUNA who sneaks into your room in the middle of the night, smirking to himself when he enters to see you patiently waiting for him. You smile softly at him as he enters, crawling into his arms once he makes himself comfortable on your bed. Your head tucks comfortably into the crook of his neck, arms winding around his waist with your legs tangling with his own. He tilts his head to rest his cheek against the side of your head, humming against you — savoring the warmth of your embrace and relishing in the chaste kisses that you plant against his neck.  

!PROFESSOR HIGURUMA who is the first member of staff to greet you on campus, standing in the doorframe of your empty classroom with his arms crossed over his chest. You pause what you were doing — which was reviewing your lesson plans — and turn to the mysterious man standing outside of your classroom. He greets you politely, clearing his throat after realizing that he might have been staring at you for a moment too long. You return his greeting, and a comfortable conversation flows between the both of you; it’s mostly him inquiring about your lesson plans.  

!PROFESSOR HIGURUMA who enjoys the nights that you both spend grading together. You sit beside him with your legs propped up on his lap, essays piled high on top of your legs while he quietly scans over the last few tests that he had procrastinated. On the coffee table are your unfinished cups of tea, sugar completely dissolved and milk creating a swirl across the top of the tea. The silence is comfortable, occasionally filled by the sound of a turning page or a hum that rumbles up from the back of his throat.  

!PHOTOGRAPHER INO who adores when you sit beside him to go through the pictures he’s taken on his laptop, offhandedly commenting on how many candid shots he has of you (three folders to be exact). Your chin is resting on the top of his head, eyes trained on the pictures that he tries so hard to click quickly through. His cheeks are burning red, not that you can really see them from your position above him. You want to tease him, but pause at one of the pictures. It’s of you on your latest date, body half-turned to look at him with a bright smile painted onto your face. You think you look terrible, but with the way he gazes at the same picture, you could have hung the moon and stars. 

!PHOTOGRAPHER INO who never misses an opportunity to capture precious moments with his camera. Each date you go on, you can bet that he’s going to be snapping photo after photo to “commemorate the moment.” In reality, you know he’s just gathering pictures of you, but the thought behind it all is so pure-hearted and tooth-rot-tingly sweet. Nine times out of ten, he’ll pick his favorite from the night and frame it, gifting it to you after the night’s over.  

!ROYALTY YUUTA who can feel his heart momentarily stop in his chest the moment that he sees you standing at the top of the palace steps, dress sparkling in the light provided by the ballroom’s grand chandelier. He watches you carefully as you descend the stairs, waving politely to the other patrons who greet you first. The warmth in his chest transfers to his cheeks as you approach him, greeting him with a gentle peck and a smile that has him weak in the knees. He regains himself quickly however, offering you his hand and asking you to dance — an offer that only a fool would decline.  

!ROYALTY YUUTA who is all smiles and giggles when you sneak out of your room to join him in the palace’s darkened hallways. He tugs at your hand as you both sneak past the various guards that are stationed throughout the palace’s second floor. He turns to you with a finger pressed against his lips, smiling in response to your own as he finally sneaks you into the palace’s grand library, where the both of you remain until sunrise and the king and queen go searching for their son and his betrothed. 

!COLLEGE STUDENT TOGE who makes it very known that you are his beautiful, stunning girlfriend. Yes, you’re set as his wallpaper (on both his laptop AND his phone). Yes, he references you in almost every conversation that he has. Yes, he’ll hold your hand in the crowded halls and sit next to you during the class that you both just so happen to share. No, he has no shame in hugging you tightly in public. No, he has no shame in kissing you and emphasizing it with a disgusting “mwah!”.  

!COLLEGE STUDENT TOGE who memorizes your coffee order and, before class every day, surprises you with it along with a small pastry. Does it absolutely ruin his bank account? Sure. But is there anything that could ever compare to your smile and the kiss you lay against his cheek in thanks? Absolutely not. He would gladly run his bank account into the ground if it meant making your Monday mornings just a touch brighter. 

!BARISTA YUUJI who swears up and down that he doesn’t have a favorite regular — besides you that is. He swears that he doesn’t remember your coffee order at all … and yet it’s always waiting on the pickup side of the register when you walk in. He swears that he has no idea who you are … and yet he perks up like an excited dog when the coffee shop’s bell dings at 9:15 every morning. No, he definitely doesn’t have a favorite regular. 

!BARISTA YUUJI who adores when you accompany him during his closing shifts, waiting patiently at your designated table and watching as he finishes up any nightly tasks. He jingles the keys to the shop in your face when he’s finished, already asking you about your day and peppering your face with a flurry of kisses that you can never escape. His fingers lace into yours as he locks up, both of you already setting off down the sidewalk back to your apartment complex.  

!SHELTER VOLUNTEER MEGUMI who promises you before his weekly visit that he won’t bring home another dog — knowing that your apartment was barely large enough to house the two Shepherd pups that he had brought home. He kisses the top of your head and promptly leaves before you’re able to get another word in … and deep down you know that he’s going to return with something. He can’t help it, and when he holds the puppy up to your eyes, you quickly understand why. 

!SHELTER VOLUNTEER MEGUMI who all but melts when he comes home after a long day to see you and your (now) three dogs all curled up on the couch together. The two black-and-white shepherds are laying protectively in front of the couch while the newest little addition lays comfortably across your chest, little puppy snores rumbling in its nose. He has to resist the urge to take an unhealthy amount of pictures of you and the dogs — instead, he decides to silently lower himself to sit down and watch you. He reaches a finger out, stroking it over your cheek and smiling to himself … God, he was so absolutely in love with you.  

[the-teufort-nine]

My TF2 Fic Rec List [ Fanfics I've Read That You Should Too]

*cracks knuckles* right, let's get started! X Reader fics are not included bc I already did a list of them for an ask. Mind the tags and ratings, as always. I'll add to this as I collect more, but its decently long as is

Symbol Key:

** = Incomplete

~~ = Personal favourite

++ = Under 10k

SpeedingBullet:

~~Running Blind by TheTriggeredHappy

(( Scout's eyes are badly damaged in battle and for some reason, Medic's gun can't fix him. Until they figure out how to heal Scout, he needs someone to look after him and keep him safe.

Sniper is given the job.

[3rd person limited, Scout's POV, some character development done on a whim] ))

The SpeedingBullet fanfic. If you like Scout X Sniper, and you haven't read this one yet, I don't know what to tell you. You are severely missing out on not only a great romance story, but also fantastic team dynamics. Also has an available Podfic!

++From a Hospital Bed by SlightlyLessThanAnon

(( Jeremy wakes up in the hospital, his brain struggling the find coherent thoughts as the world churns around him, in and out of consciousness.

He finds the team may care about him a little more than he thought they did. ))

Short but sweet. More whole team fluff than strictly SpeedingBullet. Very cute.

~~Golden Brown, as well as its sister fic, Take Me Out by Ali_Ker (Alina_Kerrin)

(( After seeing his co-worker in a new light, Scout is faced with unknown feelings and a new, distracting perspective on things. ))

This lovely author can be found here under the handle @alikerao3

Grouped these two together because they are they same story, but told from the perspectives of Scout and Sniper respectively. Definitely a bit of a heavier read, especially for anyone who has dealt with Catholic guilt or internalized homophobia, but my God is it worth it. Don't just read one thinking it isn't worth it to read the other fic. Read both. Also, check out the song that inspired the title.

~~Going Through The Motions by AussieBookworm

(( Working under RED can be repetitive at times - but nothing like this. After a curse is fired his way, Scout is forced to live through the same day over and over and over again. It should be easy for someone as perfect as Scout to break the curse, right? As long as he doesn't have to confront the things he's been feeling towards Sniper it should be a piece of cake! ))

Possibly my absolute favourite TF2 fic right now. Scout gets character development out the ass, Demo has a prominent, important role, and there's a plot twist so good it had me tweaking out. TW for Suicide as a method used to get out of a time loop. Absolutely incredible, and it needs more love.

Gills and Gunpowder by popkeeki

(( Monsters are becoming increasingly rare. Between getting pushed to the periphery of society or being targeted by traffickers, life is hard when you are not (entirely) human. Like many others, Scout tries to keep his true form a secret. It has never really been a problem. That is, until a nosy teammate catches him mid-swim. ))

SpeedingBullet Mermaid AU!! Good luck finding a fic with this premise that also reaches this level of quality.

**~~Pet by Anonymous

(( Sniper's terrified of losing the one person he has in his life. It turns out there's a convenient solution to that: just make sure he has no way out, and the rest will follow.

Scout wakes up in a van he knows all too well, loopy and hungover, and Sniper's waiting for him.

*

Or: Learning to live with claustrophobia in small spaces Or: Making the best of assisted living Or: You can’t outrun a fucking bullet ))

Are you like me? Do you enjoy Scout whump and Yandere!/Possessive Sniper? SpyDad? Do you want more of it in your life? If the answer is yes, than Pet is for you! No NSFW, just pure, delicious kidnapping and one-sided love.

General Fanfic Recommendations:

++Something's Up With Respawn by Camelot_taurus, Old Works (HarveyDangerfield)

(( Respawn starts to glitch, and the Administrator sets Engineer to work fixing it.

It doesn't take long for him to find out exactly what's going ))

Super funny, weird little oneshot. Basically, Respawn starts glitching and producing fucked up, Paperjam Dipper-esque clones of the Mercs.

++Mask Off by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea. ))

Wholesome SpyDad fic. Spy actually acts like a dad for once, for his sick little bunny.

~~++Scout, Respond by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout wakes up in a dark, unknown place, with rocks bearing down on him and a spotty recollection as to how he ended up there in the first place. The only thing that keeps him sane is the voice of his team in his ear, telling him to talk, to breath, and, more than anything, to stay awake. ))

Scout gets trapped beneath a collapsed building, and receives comfort from his team over his headset while they race to dig him out. Super cute, definitely a must read, and I've done so more than once.

pick it all up (and start again) by bugbee

(( The clues had always been there, he had just never wanted to see them. Maybe neither of them had, instead content to deny the truth before their eyes for the rest of their days because it was better than confronting the alternative. Except Scout had died, and Spy wasn’t able to keep on pretending for his last moments. A part of Jeremy was glad for it, despite the simmering rage and betrayal and hurt. So when he tried to look God in the eye and tell Him that Tom Jones was his father… He couldn’t. Not really.

(Scout discusses his parentage with God, and stays dead for a little while longer. Well. A lot longer. On the plus side, he gets to attend his own funeral reception.) ))

An alternate take on Scout's death from the comics. Very Scout centric, obviously, and ends happily.

~~A Little Bird Told Me… by the_soup_specter

(( Medic learns a secret— something personal, powerful, big enough to cause a rift in the team of mercenaries that could tear two of them apart. And for once in his life… he’s not sure how to proceed.

With no better ideas, Medic decides to ask his fellow mercenaries for advice. But as dueling viewpoints begin to pile up, will he be able to make a decision before the team is changed forever? ))

Medic learns Spy is Scout's dad, and spills the beans. Everything turns out ok, but man the aftermath initially ain't pretty.

~~seven times he has to explain (and one time he doesn’t have to) by conner_is_alive

(( the trans scout obsession has me in a vice

also if i don’t vent my trans sadness i will literally rip a government building down brick by brick lmao ))

The fic that made me a trans Scout believer. If you're on the fence about that headcanon, maybe give this fic a read.

**~~Kith And Kin by BOREDGrace23

(( Mick never thought much of the BLU team. They were just clones, after all. Designed to be their opponents in a meaningless war.

That's why when he woke up, his vision blurry, his brain blistering from a headache like he'd just woken up from a hangover, and several burning questions about what had happened, he thought it was strange that they hadn't killed him already.

//

Or, BLU are clones and RED are decidedly not. They’re then forced to work together when their teams disappear. ))

If you like Emesis Blue, or horror in general, go read Kith And Kin. And when you finish, go give @boredgrace23 some love for such an incredible fic.

**++Der Junge by UpInFlamesWriting

(( Everyone on the team knows that Scout & Medic do not get along. They're like Sniper & Spy, except less bloodthirsty about it. Medic scares Scout, & Scout doesn't give Medic a reason to like him. When the two of them start being more than friendly all of a sudden, the team starts to worry, especially when it becomes obvious that Medic & Scout are keeping secrets from them. Scout & Medic are not about to tell the rest of the team that they are a pair of transsexual men, especially when Medic agrees to help Scout in his transition. For all the weirdness that goes on in the base, the world is not kind to queer people, & they aim to keep the reason behind their friendship a secret, even if it kills them. ))

Trans Scout and Trans Medic solidarity fic. I need more of this.

Eight Mercenaries and A Toddler by ChaosandMayhem

(( When Respawn malfunctions and their annoying Scout is turned into something far more precocious, it'll take all of the RED team's wits and patience to look after him. At the same time, Engineer must find a way to turn Scout back into an adult before the BLUs-or anyone else-realizes what's happened. No pairings, just a bunch of exhausted trained killers and one hyperactive child. ))

An Ancient Text from 2012 and the only FF.Net fic on this list, EMaAT is a classic for me. Lot's of Spy backstory, if memory serves. Quotes from this live rent free in my mind.

PracticalEspionage:

++Under the Lake by Her_AngelEyes

(( Engineer goes fishing. Hilarity ensues. ))

Don't let the description fool you. This is a non-con/mind break fic. If you like darkfic stuff, than this is for you~

[minimujina]

in pursuit of truth and companionship

xiangli yao is a smart, smart man. he has done a lot of growing and maturing in the course of his life, but not so much at once as he did when he met one particular person. see, something he has parsed out for himself is that he need not sever his pursuit of truth from the companionship of others—though it took much more than just personal intuition to learn that lesson.

it started with the old friend of yao’s youth, who, though he is long gone, has left perhaps the deepest impact on the man’s heart. the rover, then, ignited a particular warmth in him which soothed the leftover ache—it was comforting, all-encompassing affection that opened his heart to the kind of companionship he longed for. it was pleasant. yao looked at himself and saw not just an academic, but a human amongst other humans; he felt his heart beating in sync with the rover’s, with mortefi’s, with baizhi’s, with zhezhi’s. he realized he did not want to live in neglect of the softness that he inevitably possessed; he believed there must be a way to both pursue the truth of the world—finding groundbreaking solutions and engineering new technologies to sustain civilization—and also leave room for other people in his heart. there had to be a way. without connection to humanity, scientists would risk losing sight of the real goal.

you offered yao an apple; he declined with a reserved smile. you shrugged and bit into the sweet fruit yourself, humming in delight, swaying your feet, resting your head on xiangli yao’s shoulder. it was quiet, it was good. despite it all—the lament, the imminent destruction of human civilization—somewhere, birds were singing and bugs were thriving; the grass was green under your picnic blanket, and you sat beneath a healthy tree next to someone with whom near anything could be enjoyed. meanwhile, xiangli yao tuned in to the crunch of the apple as you bit into it, and he visualized the waves in the air, visualized your humming and the shuffling rustling bustling of your clothes and the grass and the leaves. the world, in his eyes, seemed so much more alive in your presence.

you were no resonator, but yao liked to imagine you must emit some kind of special frequency. you were too good, too pure. he could see it in his imagination when he looked at you—like an angelic halo of light, enveloping your form with the delicate hand of some otherworldly, divine power. you may not resonate the same way he does, no, but yao was certain that your very existence harmonized with the ebb and flow of solaris iii’s vibrations.

with locked pinkies, yao and his muse sat in silence, savoring the peace and contentment derived from the presence of another soul so alike in nature. it was quiet love, unassuming, forgiving, patient; you were all small smiles and gentle touches, and he was all the same.

yao liked to tie your shoes for you, since you had a lazy streak; as it turns out, carelessly throwing shoestrings into a loose knot is not enough to make it through the day, but you could not be bothered. so it was becoming a challenge for him to tie them in such a way that your rowdiness could not undo the work. and, say, perhaps you had schemed the lazy shoe-tying, so that he would develop such an intimate and domestic habit—but ah, well, some secrets are best kept as they are.

you liked to bring him lunch—for xiangli yao, the man that he was, had a horrible habit of forgetting to eat. with a blindness to time, poor interoceptive awareness, and the pinpoint focus of a laser, he hardly noticed when he grew hungry in the midst of his work; it was like his body was completely incognizant of its own needs. so you took it upon yourself to check in at lunchtime, very forcefully “suggesting” that he eat. as a result, his coworkers had grown very fond of you in all the time you spent around them.

and truly, there were none so taken with xiangli yao as you—his other half, as he liked to call you. he possessed a certain charm, and anyone who met the man could attest to his humble smile and quiet strength, those qualities that drew people in much more than he realized. but none were so fortunate as you to wake up every day and melt over the man all over again. internally, you could not fathom his existence, could not process his love for you, could not cope with the fact that you belonged to each other. all you could do was trace the lines of his handsome face with your hands, studying each groove and blemish, burning the image of his smile into your retinas so you may never part from the warmth you felt upon seeing it. to be away from him felt almost painful at times, if only because his presence alone was soothing and regulating, and perhaps you’d gotten too used to the privilege. he enjoyed teasing you about that, too.

if anything, xiangli yao has found that deep human connection can only serve to further motivate him in his search for truth, certainly not to hold him back, as he previously feared.

with his abilities, he had felt a sense of duty from a young age to put himself to work, to be a leader among the brilliant minds at the forefront of science. he could not be distracted, he could not let anything hinder his progress. he felt he would somewhat fail humanity otherwise—much too big a burden for just one man to bear.

all this time, that fear has clashed with something deep inside of him that could not shake the desire for companionship. he practically tore himself into shreds, afraid it would disservice the progress of humanity for him to do anything other than put his brain to work. but at the same time, his heart was so soft, and he longed so inexplicably much for someone to just see him.

and then, just like that, yao’s innermost wish had been granted. the war waging in his mind, body, and soul finally came to a standstill—he made friends, and he felt wanted for something other than his abilities. he had not felt such a feeling since his youth.

further, he found that having dear companions boosted his mood and health, which in turn benefitted his research. he could no longer remember why he had always believed so adamantly that relationships were distractions, and something to be feared. perhaps it was an idea he gleaned from his father, whether intentional from the man or not.

as it turns out, some of the most profound truths can be found within the human soul. xiangli yao has discovered this to be true just knowing you; he has found it to be true in the crevices of your palm, in the wrinkles of your skin, in the color of your eyes. he has come to know so much more about the world since knowing you. and he finds himself all the more eager to search for answers, knowing he has someone so dear to love and protect in this world.

[drive360]

Reliable Power Solutions: Honda Generator

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Disclaimer:

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[emma23]

Shared space :

Marc/ Steven/ Jake x reader

If you want to support me, check this out 💕

https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile

The steady hum of the car's engine buzzed softly in Y/N’s ears as she peered out the passenger window. The warm glow of streetlights filtered through the glass, creating streaks of light on Steven’s focused face. His knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly, and he seemed unusually quiet. Then again, it wasn’t every day that someone asked you to crash at their place because your apartment’s plumbing had decided to flood catastrophically.

“Thanks again for this, Steven. I really appreciate it,” Y/N said, breaking the silence.

“’Course,” he replied, though his eyes remained glued to the road. “You’d do the same for me, yeah?”

She smiled, appreciating his earnestness. What Steven didn’t realize was that sharing his space might be more of a risk for her than him. After years of their close friendship, she’d come to terms with a frustrating truth: she had a hopeless crush on him. Well—on all of them, really. Marc with his brooding intensity, Jake with his infuriating confidence, and Steven with his sweet, unassuming charm. It was a package deal that complicated things in ways she never expected.

The flat was cozy, as always. Books were scattered everywhere, and there were faint traces of Steven’s scent—something warm and earthy—lingering in the air. She tried not to linger too much on those thoughts, reminding herself to stay grounded.

But then he showed her the sleeping arrangement.

“The sofa?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, the bed’s, uh…” Steven scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not very big, is it? And the sofa’s a bit lumpy…” His voice trailed off, cheeks tinged pink.

“So, we’re… sharing?”

Steven stammered. “Not that I mind, of course! I just thought—you know, practical solution, innit?”

She narrowed her eyes playfully, arms crossed. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

The bed was definitely not big enough.

“Steven,” she hissed, feeling his elbow jab into her side.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, shifting awkwardly.

“Maybe if you just stayed still…”

“Right. Got it. Perfectly still.”

It lasted all of five seconds before he bumped her again, this time with his knee.

Y/N groaned. “Okay, ground rules. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.”

“Deal.”

For a while, it was quiet. Too quiet. Then came the voice she wasn’t expecting.

“Y/N,” Marc said, his tone low and slightly amused.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Steven’s not doing so great with the whole ‘don’t move’ thing, is he?” Marc’s smirk was practically audible.

“Not really.”

“Want me to take over?” he offered, voice tinged with mischief.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. “Will you actually behave, or is this just an excuse to make things worse?”

“No promises.”

It was sometime after midnight when she woke to find the space between them nonexistent. Jake had taken over without a word, his arm draped casually over her waist as if it belonged there.

“Jake,” she whispered, nudging him.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, clearly half-asleep.

“This is crossing the line.”

“No it’s not,” he replied, voice low and gravelly.

“It is, and you know it.”

He opened one eye, a mischievous gleam in it. “You’re warm. I’m comfortable. Seems like a win-win.”

Her cheeks flushed. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, shifting closer. “But you like me that way.”

She couldn’t argue with that, though she tried her best to suppress the flutter in her chest.

By morning, Steven was back, sheepish as ever.

“So, um… about last night,” he began, fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt.

“What about it?” Y/N asked, feigning nonchalance as she poured herself a cup of tea.

“Well, Marc says I was awful at keeping to my side, and Jake…” He trailed off, his cheeks flaming. “Did Jake really—?”

“Cuddle me like a teddy bear? Yep.”

Steven looked mortified, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry—”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s fine, Steven. Really.”

“Right, right,” he muttered, though he still wouldn’t meet her gaze.

There was a pause before he blurted out, “Would it… be so bad, though?”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“If we… you know, weren’t just friends.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“What are you saying, Steven?”

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’m saying I’ve fancied you for ages, Y/N. And Marc and Jake—well, they’re on board too, so…”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

After an awkward, stammer-filled confession and a series of chaotic interjections from Marc and Jake, Y/N finally let out an exasperated sigh.

“Your father probably thinks we slept together,” she muttered.

“We did,” Steven said innocently.

“No, I mean… had sex,” she clarified, her voice dropping.

Steven’s cheeks turned bright red, but Marc’s voice cut through the silence. “Would that be so bad?”

She glared at him. “You’re not helping.”

Jake chuckled from somewhere in the back of her mind. “I think she’s more flustered than Steven.”

And maybe she was. But as she looked at Steven—sweet, awkward Steven—and thought of all the chaos they’d endured together, she realized something.

“Fine,” she said finally. “But if this goes wrong, it’s your fault.”

Steven blinked. “Wait—does that mean…?”

She smirked, leaning in close. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Jake’s laugh echoed in her mind as Marc muttered something sarcastic. But for once, Y/N didn’t mind the chaos.

“Great,” Jake quipped. “Now, can we all agree I get first dibs on movie night.”

[edutainer2022]

Putting the story up anew for @lenle-g and her amazing Dad and baby!Scott art.

SHIELD OF PROOF

**Then**

"It isn't fair!"

His wife's huff is equal parts amusement and exasperation.

"How do you do that, Jeff? Seriously? I get stranded with a toddler shaped supersonic jet. You waltz in from the Moon and he's the sleepy kitty, napping at a drop of a hat!"

She throws her hands up in a dramatic flare, but her eyes are brimming with fondness. He hides a smile in the crown of fluffy brown hair and makes it a kiss for good measure. The sleeping child is breathing puffs of air into his chest, one tiny arm hugging Dad as best he can, another still holding a toy plane. Jeff could never imagine the idea of a heart swelling with love could feel so real.

"Well, at least Virgil gives you no trouble. That little guy could sleep through a rocket take off."

Which he promptly has. Baby Virgil made GDF private chat trends, having famously slept all through his Dad's launch to Alpha Shadow base.

The trick with Scott, a firm believer in going "run", "fast", "jump" and "vroom" ALL THE TIME, and a self-proclaimed nap-nihilist at a wise age of two and a half, was to remember the little fella was a Tracy. It would get you nowhere to talk him out or to deny what he's set his mind on. But it was possible to reason with the boy and suggest a more optimal solution to obtain the ultimete goal (running about with a toy plane, making engine noises) - say, the plane engines needed to cool down, so how about we wait for a moment right there, on the couch, and then it can fly even faster. Between officer training tips and the unbridled adoration and trust in the bright blue eyes - Jeff soon had a sound asleep toddler in his arms. Or maybe it was because the arms were strong, and big, and Dad, and Dad was THERE.

His wife is openly smiling now, reaching down to extract the toy from the small hand.

"Do you want me to take him? I'm going to check on Virgie anyway."

He adjusts his hold on the warm, small weight with one hand and pulls her closer for a quick kiss.

"Nah, we're good. I'll get Virgie once this little man is up and about again."

Which is bound to happen sooner than they'd both like. The house will be filled with invigorated pitpat of tiny running feet, and shrieks of delight, and little grumbly noises the roused baby would be making, as he would take Virgil to the back porch. But for now he settled to listen to his son's even breathing, enjoying the quiet while it lasted. He was home.

**Now**

"How did you do it, Dad?!"

Virgil's baritone barely passed for stage whisper. He played along, raising a quisical brow at his son's dramatic gesture, spanning the length of the Island infirmary bed. Or rather, the considerable length of Scott, tucked to his side, sound asleep. To his credit, Jeff tried for looking sheepish, but it came out more cheeky than anything. Virgil was having none of that - hands up in the air.

"Seriously? You've been back from space for what? Twenty minutes? And you already have him cooperate, have an arm in a sling AND asleep?! It would have taken me the better half of the night!"

Jeff promptly bit down a response that he also got Scott to take painkillers and agree to a deeper scan first thing in the morning. All under half an hour. It felt a little bit comforting to know eight years down the line and he still had what it takes to stare down an adult son who was "fine, Dad, it's nothing, you need to rest!" and had just incidentally led a mission to rescue his hide from the far corner of the galaxy (having tumbled down half an exploding planetoid in the process). What didn't sit comfortably was the offhand understanding his other son would consider himself on Scott wrangling duty 24/7 apparently. It truly had been a long while since he was their father. This would need to change. He shifted a light hold on Scott's slumbering frame, mindful of the shoulder, secured in a sling over his shirt and (now confirmed) bruised ribs - and smiled up at Virgil.

"I have my bag of tricks, son."

Virgil's soft gaze was quickly shiting gears back to a deeper shade of worry (something Jeff need to nip in the bud), as his hand reached for the medscanner. Which was obviously redundant as it was, likely, the scanner activation that sent his second eldest careening back to the infirmary. His mother barely managed to shoo everyone out to begin with, after Jeff had been settled and hooked up to monitors and IV lines. Alan was beat and half asleep on his feet. John was back up in orbit, to set up sorting data from their incredible trip with Eos (Jeff was a little fuzzy who that was, again - a student? some kind of child prodigy?). Kayo took off with the GDF and her uncle, having given Jeff a fierce hug. Gordon was bidding goodbye to Penelope (and Parker, of course) or whatever the kids called it these days (Jeff filed that one to bask in amusement later). Scott and Virgil were determined to keep round the clock vigil and to not leave his side (possibly ever). Between himself and Mom he managed to negotiate Scott taking the first shift, fully intending to set up camp by his bedside and start on the report of the Zero-XL mission. The GDF guys did eye them funny, but still. A report right away? Jeff hid a sigh in a fit of cough. He had a mission of his own, till eight years of fatigue drew him under. Back on the planetoid, crumbling beneath his feet, the lifelong instincts helped compute the flash of lanky blue, tumbling as a ragdoll into the void, into the alarm claxon, blaring "son" and "fall", translating the surge of adrenaline into a single focus - "catch!", a move well honed ever since baby Scott first swandived off a backrest of a couch. Between taking in his son dangling off the death grip of his hand over the abyss, blue eyes transfixed in a mixture of awe and shock, meeting the rest of the boys all grown up and surreally THERE, in his arms, exposing the Hood in a surge of fury so consuming he was sure he scared his kids, and hugging his mother upon landing, he did allocate a breathing moment to process the thought there was no way Scott hadn't hit anything through the collision with every boulder that had been Jeff's home for eight years, or hadn't pulled anything in their drop and grab maneuver.

TBC

[damedechance]

lovesick all over my bed

a 'Love and Deepspace' oneshot >> read on ao3

Pairing: Rafayel/MC Rating: Explicit Summary: Rafayel has been keeping you up late at night, and not in the way you might prefer. When Rafayel's late nights spent painting cause him to have trouble falling asleep, you're the one he calls. Your ill-advised decision to confront him at his house at 3am leads to yet another sleepless night.

💙🩷check below cut for a snippet

The street is slick with the thin, vaporous mist lightly falling over the city. Shallow puddles have formed in dips in the asphalt, the street lights reflecting off the otherwise seamless black surface of the water with a yellowish glow. You watch these reflections shake and bob over the puddles as you barrel towards them. Your front tire slices through the water, and you whip your head behind you to see how the water ripples violently in your wake.

Between your thighs, you feel the low rumble of your motorbike, and as you turn back around to face the road, you rev the engine. The roar of it in your ears is only slightly mollifying, and so you repeat the action–louder this time–and you streak beneath a traffic light just as it turns red.

The roads are especially clear this late at night, allowing you to zip through the city effortlessly. You recklessly weave in and out of the dotted yellow lines, just to blow off some steam. Rafayel might be pissing you off, but that doesn’t mean you want to arrive at his place seething with anger. You’re still hoping you might be able to resolve this situation peacefully, to find a reasonable solution to his–there’s no other word for it–bullshit.

But just as you are mentally preparing yourself to behave rationally as soon as you see him, your phone vibrates in your pocket, and a frustrated scream rips up your throat. You lean forward, pressing your torso flat against your bike, and the quiet city streets begin to blur past you as you accelerate even faster, the rain slicing like razors against your skin and splattering against your visor. The phone call goes ignored, and you feel it buzzing against the front of your thigh a few more times before mercifully, it stops.

This is the fifth phone call in less than an hour.

Rafayel’s house sprouts from the distance, and you grind your teeth together at the sight of it. All of the lights are off, and for some reason that only aggravates you more. Unfair, that Rafayel may spend a peaceful, quiet night in his luxurious home while you’re tearing through Linkon City streets and dedicating every last shred of patience that he has not yet worn down to taking deep breaths just so you don’t rip his head off as soon as you see him.

Not that he wouldn’t deserve it.

[mariacallous]

Lucas’s obsession with the taxation of the Republic can be seen less as a creator losing themselves in the minutiae of their own creation, and more as a warning of how trading systems can be weaponised. The stranglehold that the Trade Federation places on Naboo is similar to the one the current American government is threatening over the economies of developing countries like Lesotho and Vietnam. In this context, previously weak lines take on new meaning. Early on, before the negotiations turn violent, Liam Neeson’s Qui-Gon Jinn murmurs, “I sense an unusual amount of fear for something as trivial as a trade dispute” – deftly pointing out that when trade disputes are used to impoverish and starve one’s enemies as a proxy for war, there’s nothing trivial about them.

The more you ignore the terrible parts of the film (and believe me, there are lots of terrible parts), the more parallels with our own terrible time become apparent. The Trade Federation’s own rapacious desire for profit over all else – and the deal that they do with the Dark Side, despite their own unease – feels worryingly similar to how the CEOs of Amazon, Meta and Google have all bent the knee to the Trump Administration. The increasing political power of the Trade Federation, and the way that they have stymied the Galactic Senate, brings to mind the way that the legislative arm of the United States has been hollowed out by lobbying and neutered by the richest and most online man in the world.

The fact Princess Amidala thinks the Senate will save Naboo, despite all evidence to the contrary, reflects the unfounded belief of many Americans that Republican senators will grow a spine, and the checks and balances will suddenly revive themselves to constrain Trump. There’s even something in the way that Senator Palpatine (who will later become the evil emperor, complete with lightning hands and bathrobe) is treated by everyone as a stand-up guy despite the fact that he is very obviously evil – I was half expecting Keir Starmer to turn up and offer him a state visit.

So is George Lucas some kind of modern day Cassandra? One who envisioned the horrible rise of Elon Musk through the creation of Viceroy Gunray, a small grey alien who sounds a bit like my impression of Jose Mourinho after four pints? Should we be combing through the prequels to work out how to deal with the current rise of the far right? Well … no, obviously. Most of George’s solutions involve getting space wizards to blow up conveniently placed air vents - which, as wildly fantastical plans for combatting authoritarianism go, is about as good as Chuck Schumer’s.

Ultimately though, there was something that The Phantom Menace’strade war premonition missed – just how stupid all of this is. There isn’t a scene where Darth Sidious starts talking about how he invented the idea of grocery bags, or another where the Trade Federation tried to tax an uninhabited planet filled with penguins. Lucas filled the script with tense technical jargon and slick politicians engineering crises to justify a collapse into totalitarianism. It turns out he didn’t need to bother. He could have just had a crawl at the start that said “the Emperor has lost his mind, Viceroy Gunray’s son is wiping snot on the walls of a Coruscant palace, and everyone is basically fine with it. Now get ready for two hours of pod racing!”

The good news, in the end, is that The Phantom Menace wasn’t right all along. The bad news? It’s because our world is too wrong for The Phantom Menace to have predicted. And that’s much worse.

[yuriosakawa]

Project R.E.X - Big Sis Zag-RS 

Rex sat in front of a holographic console, his fingers drumming against the metal surface as he waited. After a few seconds, the screen flickered to life, forming the nine red little rectangles formed like a circle of ZAG-RS.

"User: Rex." Her synthetic voice greeted him in its usual robotic tone. "It is unusual for you to contact me willingly. "

Rex smirked. "What, can’t a guy check in on his older sister?"

ZAG-RS’s rectangles seemed to blink. "Clarification: I do not possess a biological connection to you. However, if considering shared origins within the Nanite Project, I can accept the classification of 'older sister' in a metaphorical sense."

Rex chuckled. "Yeah, well, I just found out I’m technically not just some kid who got lucky with nanites—I was made to be what I am. And if that’s the case, then I guess that kinda makes you my predecessor."

"Correction: I was designed as an artificial intelligence to regulate nanite behavior. My function was to guide and control. "

"Uh-huh," Rex said, tilting his head. "And I was designed as the only working human-nanite hybrid, meant to be the perfect bridge between both worlds. Sounds to me like we were both created to fixsomething that went wrong."

ZAG-RS was silent for a moment, processing. "Statement: Your logic is sound. We were both engineered solutions to past failures. "

Rex leaned forward. "Exactly. Which means, whether you like it or not, we’re kind of family."

"Observation: You are attempting to establish an emotional connection based on our shared origins. "

Rex smirked. "Took you long enough to notice."

ZAG-RS hummed in thought. "Inquiry: If I am your ‘older sister,’ what does that entail? "

Rex shrugged. "I dunno. Giving me advice, annoying me, making sure I don’t get myself killed—y’know, sibling stuff."

ZAG-RS was silent again before responding. "Recommendation: Given your high likelihood of reckless behavior, I advise you to minimize unnecessary risk-taking. "

Rex snorted. "Wow, that was fast. You are an older sister."

"Acknowledgment: If this is a role I must fulfill, then I shall execute it with precision. "

Rex chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Just don't get all bossy on me, okay?"

"Observation: That is an unreasonable request. "

Rex laughed. "Yeah, I figured."

———————————————

Later that night, after his meeting with ZAG-RS, Rex wandered into César’s workspace, half-expecting his brother to still be awake, buried in his research as usual. But instead, he found him completely passed out, slumped over his desk, his head resting on an open notebook filled with scribbled equations and diagrams and a faint snore escaped him

Rex chuckled, shaking his head. "Out like a limelight, huh?" he muttered. 

Carefully, he lifted César up, the older man barely stirring as Rex carried him over to his bed. It was almost funny—César had created him, designed him to be something greater than human, yet here he was, tucking his genius of a big brother into bed like a kid who had fallen asleep doing homework. 

After adjusting the blankets around him, Rex hesitated for a moment before leaning down and pressing a light kiss to César’s forehead. 

“Buenas noches…my revolutionarily evolved big brother,” he whispered. Then, with a small grin, he added, “Thanks for creating me...” 

With that, he turned off the lights and quietly left the room, leaving César to rest, completely unaware of the rare moment of affection Rex had just given him.