#Helicopter Insertion.

[power-handmaiden]

Day 64: Pounded In The Butt By My Irrational Bigoted Fear Of Humans Who Were Born As Unicorns Using A Human Restroom

While I had conflicting feelings on "Angry Man Pounded By The Fear Of His Latent Gayness Over A Dinosaur Transitioning Into A Unicorn" in light of how the conversation on trans rights and visibility has evolved, I feel like this tingler, published only 11 months later, holds up incredibly well. It tackles gender in a similar way to robot fiction, in the way that the protagonist feels insecurity over his humanity when someone he would not traditionally recognize as a human is able to inhabit human spaces.

One aspect that I appreciate a lot is that the story makes it very clear that the character that the protagonist initially directs his species transphobia towards does not pass as a human at all; the bigoted protagonist and the waitress who is dismissive of his bigotry both refer to the character as a unicorn based on appearance. A major point in this tingler is that the man deserves dignity whether or not he "looks" like he should be in a human space. A lot of transphobes love to make arguments that operate in this heightened reality. It's not hard to imagine one saying, "what, should we accept it if someone identifies as a unicorn?" I mean, the furry panic is basically that, using some on-its-face absurd otherkin caricature as a proxy for trans people. This tingler meets them in their invented space where they think their argument is the most ironclad and says, yes, that would be fine actually, even if we did all live in your thought experiment and even took it a step further by introducing other sapient species with clear physical differences. People of different species peeing in the same room is not going to break the fabric of society.

(Side note not entirely related, people who care about such things are also just.... really bad at telling who "belongs", which is addressed in the story somewhat but I just like to mention whenever I have the chance that it includes false positives on their Wrong Sex Detector too. I use the bathroom that corresponds to my birth certificate and I've been stared at, yelled at, one time someone just watched me piss?? So much for bathrooms being a harrassment free space.)

I also love that nothing sexual takes place in the bathroom. The protagonist recovering from his bigotry fucks a sentient restroom sign right in the middle of the diner. Absolute madman, I can't help but respect it.

[itsirk-is-the-lusional]

Call of duty peeps but in the magnus archives universe 🤤🤤 the brainworms (heh. Worms.) Are getting to me help

👑 König avatar of the slaughter or hunt, fear of the buried the lonely

🐯 Horangi avatar of the hunt or the end, fear of the spiral the desolation

⚠️ Acid avatar of the flesh, fear of the extinction/corruption the web

Kocidrangi in the fearpocalypse being a deathy trio, wow poor domain victims in the range of this polyamorous relationship

👑🗡 🐯🏹 ⚠️🫀

Lets do the other CoD peeps why not. Technically they all can be avatars of the hunt since. Military. But whatever. Thats not Fun

Ghost fear of the buried (he isnt an avatar sorry)

Soap avatar of the desolation 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 but i dont think hed be a lightless flame mf

Gaz fear of the vast, the corruption (personal HC he doesnt like the unpredictability of nature)

Price fear of the lonely, the stranger

Laswell avatar of the web and her wife avatar of the dark awww they compliment each other 🩷🩷🩷 #couplegoals

Rudy avatar of the eye (listen i dont know where this comes from but i feel it in my soul), fear of the web

Alejandro fear of no bitches 🙏💅 hes just that slay

Valeria avatar of the web

[miutonium]

"Oh, don't look down honey, close your eyes or you'll fall" Professor Utonium says, enthusiastically.

"I AM NEVER GOING TO ASK FOR A LIFT EVER AGAIN!" Chloe said calmly.

Plugging my commission info here heehee ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

[duckduck-buck]

Kinda controversial but I kinda wanna see Buck leave for a little while, just to see what he would do you know? For a little bit of drama, for the plot, for the heart wrenching fics that will inevitably come from it <3

[anonymous--writings]

what if the eldritch baby is already old enough to go to school in like a month

Then the eldritch baby will go to school! Most children are already going to school pretty early anyways, and if the baby looks old enough, there's no problem sending them to school. Though I'm sure you'd probably start worrying about your baby and will use your powers to look over them as much as possible.

[aq2003]

you and evandrin beating asmodeus with a bat besties

honestly if i had to make a self insert character for exu:c i would make myself a guy that tried out the astral leywright and died so i could hang out with evandrin in the astral plane and help him figure out a way to free his husband from super hell

[shrapnelstars]

I listened to the FNaF tier list episodes of Distractible.

Bob: Golden Freddy goes down low because he started all of the bullshit confusing lore stuff.

[reasonsforhope]

"For over a decade, the Yosemite toad has been recognized as a federally threatened species, after experiencing a 50% population decline during the Rim Fire of 2013.

The wildfire, which encompassed a mass of land near Yosemite National Park, made the amphibian species especially vulnerable in its home habitat. 

Native to the Sierra Nevada, the toads play a key role in the area’s ecosystem — and conservationists stepped in to secure their future.

In 2017, the San Francisco Zoo’s conservation team began working with the National Park Service, Yosemite Conservancy, U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, California Department of Fish & Wildlife, and the U.S. Geological Survey. 

The goal of all of these stakeholders? To raise their own Yosemite toads, re-establishing a self-sustaining population in the wild. 

“Over the past several years, SF Zoo’s conservation team has been busily raising hundreds of these small but significant amphibians from tadpole stage, a species found only in the Sierra Nevada, for the purpose of reintroducing them to an area of Yosemite National Park where it was last seen 11 years ago,” the zoo shared on social media. 

By 2022, a group of toads were deemed ready for release — and at the end of June of this year [2024], 118 toads were flown via helicopter back to their habitat.

“It’s the first time anyone has ever raised this species in captivity and released them to the wild,” Rochelle Stiles, field conservation manager at the San Francisco Zoo, told SFGATE. “It’s just incredible. It makes what we do at the zoo every day worthwhile.”

Over the past two years, these toads were fed a diet of crickets and vitamin supplements and were examined individually to ensure they were ready for wildlife release.

Zoo team members inserted a microchip into each toad to identify and monitor its health. In addition, 30 of the toads were equipped with radio transmitters, allowing their movements to be tracked using a radio receiver and antenna.

The project doesn’t end with this single wildlife release; it’s slated to take place over the next five years, as conservationists continue to collect data about the toads’ breeding conditions and survivability in an ever-changing climate. They will also continue to raise future toad groups at the zoo’s wellness and conservation center...

While the future of the Yosemite toad is still up in the air — and the uncertainty of climate change makes this a particularly audacious leap of faith — the reintroduction of these amphibians could have positive ripple effects for all of Yosemite.

Their re-entry could restore the population balance of invertebrates and small vertebrates that the toads consume, as well as balance the food web, serving as prey for snakes, birds, and other local predators.

“Zoo-reared toads can restore historic populations,” Nancy Chan, director of communications at the San Francisco Zoo, told SFGATE. 

Stiles continued: “This is our backyard, our home, and we want to bring native species back to where they belong.”

-via GoodGoodGood, July 11, 2024

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When Facebook came for your battery, feudal security failed

When George Hayward was working as a Facebook data-scientist, his bosses ordered him to run a “negative test,” updating Facebook Messenger to deliberately drain users’ batteries, in order to determine how power-hungry various parts of the apps were. Hayward refused, and Facebook fired him, and he sued:

https://nypost.com/2023/01/28/facebook-fires-worker-who-refused-to-do-negative-testing-awsuit/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

Hayward balked because he knew that among the 1.3 billion people who use Messenger, some would be placed in harm’s way if Facebook deliberately drained their batteries — physically stranded, unable to communicate with loved ones experiencing emergencies, or locked out of their identification, payment method, and all the other functions filled by mobile phones.

As Hayward told Kathianne Boniello at the New York Post, “Any data scientist worth his or her salt will know, ‘Don’t hurt people…’ I refused to do this test. It turns out if you tell your boss, ‘No, that’s illegal,’ it doesn’t go over very well.”

Negative testing is standard practice at Facebook, and Hayward was given a document called “How to run thoughtful negative tests” regarding which he said, “I have never seen a more horrible document in my career.”

We don’t know much else, because Hayward’s employment contract included a non-negotiable binding arbitration waiver, which means that he surrendered his right to seek legal redress from his former employer. Instead, his claim will be heard by an arbitrator — that is, a fake corporate judge who is paid by Facebook to decide if Facebook was wrong. Even if he finds in Hayward’s favor — something that arbitrators do far less frequently than real judges do — the judgment, and all the information that led up to it, will be confidential, meaning we won’t get to find out more:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/hot-coffee/#mcgeico

One significant element of this story is that the malicious code was inserted into Facebook’s app. Apps, we’re told, are more secure than real software. Under the “curated computing” model, you forfeit your right to decide what programs run on your devices, and the manufacturer keeps you safe. But in practice, apps are just software, only worse:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/23/peek-a-boo/#attack-helicopter-parenting

Apps are part what Bruce Schneier calls “feudal security.” In this model, we defend ourselves against the bandits who roam the internet by moving into a warlord’s fortress. So long as we do what the warlord tells us to do, his hired mercenaries will keep us safe from the bandits:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

But in practice, the mercenaries aren’t all that good at their jobs. They let all kinds of badware into the fortress, like the “pig butchering” apps that snuck into the two major mobile app stores:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/02/pig-butchering-scam-apps-sneak-into-apples-app-store-and-google-play/

It’s not merely that the app stores’ masters make mistakes — it’s that when they screw up, we have no recourse. You can’t switch to an app store that pays closer attention, or that lets you install low-level software that monitors and overrides the apps you download.

Indeed, Apple’s Developer Agreement bans apps that violate other services’ terms of service, and they’ve blocked apps like OG App that block Facebook’s surveillance and other enshittification measures, siding with Facebook against Apple device owners who assert the right to control how they interact with the company:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

When a company insists that you must be rendered helpless as a condition of protecting you, it sets itself up for ghastly failures. Apple’s decision to prevent every one of its Chinese users from overriding its decisions led inevitably and foreseeably to the Chinese government ordering Apple to spy on those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/11/foreseeable-consequences/#airdropped

Apple isn’t shy about thwarting Facebook’s business plans, but Apple uses that power selectively — they blocked Facebook from spying on Iphone users (yay!) and Apple covertly spied on its customers in exactly the same way as Facebook, for exactly the same purpose, and lied about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

The ultimately, irresolvable problem of Feudal Security is that the warlord’s mercenaries will protect you against anyone — except the warlord who pays them. When Apple or Google or Facebook decides to attack its users, the company’s security experts will bend their efforts to preventing those users from defending themselves, turning the fortress into a prison:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Feudal security leaves us at the mercy of giant corporations — fallible and just as vulnerable to temptation as any of us. Both binding arbitration and feudal security assume that the benevolent dictator will always be benevolent, and never make a mistake. Time and again, these assumptions are proven to be nonsense.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_%2841118890174%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A painting depicting the Roman sacking of Jerusalem. The Roman leader's head has been replaced with Mark Zuckerberg's head. The wall has Apple's 'Think Different' wordmark and an Ios 'low battery' icon.]

Next week (Feb 8-17), I'll be in Australia, touring my book *Chokepoint Capitalism* with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We'll be in Brisbane on Feb 8, and then we're doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 9. Next is Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. I hope to see you!

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

[gardens-light]

On The Run

After discovering Optimus Prime in your family barn, normality seemed to briefly throw itself out of the window.

The leader of the Autobots couldn't be anymore in your debt. For as you spend every waking moment putting him back together- repairing and replacing parts of him to the best of your skill.

Admittedly, he almost gave up on humanity. As time seemed to prove itself that they would always look after their own, and protect what's theirs- no matter the cost. Betrayal unleashed it's ugly face to him multiple times, slapping him with the reality that Earth may not be safe for him and his Autobots anymore.

Yet here you stand before him. A warm smile with an aura of glittering hope, burning away his darkness of doubt. It was as though the Universe itself spoke through you, giving Optimus a warmth he thought was forgotten long ago. But he cannot help wander... how far could his trust in you really go...?

Content: Mild coarse language. Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Minor spoilers.) Mention of weaponry. Reader insert.

Word count- 2,800k

Sparkmate Series: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"Don't move like that."

Your hands pressed against Optimus' chest plate as you stood upon the scaffolding.

"The welds are still fresh. Transforming back into your truck form could ruin them- it would be like undoing stitches on a wound."

His Spark burst like small firecrackers as your delicate fingers brushed across his chassis. Jolts of electricity rush through his wires, as your touch run up towards his neck. Heat swept through his metal plates, as you reached up towards his cheek.

"You still need to heal, Big Guy. You of all people should know these things takes time..."

Optimus' optics snapped open. Your touch still lingering upon his chest plate like a ghostly inferred sensation. The memory of the previous hours of the day, playing on repeat within his processors. The haze of sleepiness soon rubbed off, his surroundings becoming faminular again.

His optics scanned the barn, the nocturnal wildlife outside disturbed the still night air. Your small whimpers of your voice caught his attention, Optimus' spark gave a warming glow as he looked down at you.

Engine grease staining your hands, as you curled up upon an old couch. Sleeping peacefully on your side, resting your head in the crook of your elbow.

Optimus' servo touched his lower abdomen, his digits feeling a fresh weld stretching up his side. A gentle sigh left him.

She must of pulled another all nighter.

Grabbing a blanket with his free servo, Optimus carefully draped it along your body. Allowing the tip of his index finger to trace your curves.

His Spark hummed, filling his chest with gentle warmth. Optimus quickly pulled away from you, placing his servo over his Spark.

No. Closing his optics, a heavy sigh left his mouth. Shaking his helm before the thought could permanently fixed itself to his processors. Nothing like that exists. It's just a romanticide idea...

---

"Y/N!" Tessa's voice shouted from the porch.

Stopping mid-weld upon Optimus' side. Gently tapping on the metal sheet, signaling for the Autobot to hold it in place while you pulled down your goggles around your neck.

"I don't like the tone of her voice..." you looked up at Optimus. He saw the worry shining in your eyes. "Hold that tightly, it's only half welded. Hide in there."

His optics followed your pointed finger, "go underneath the floorboards. It might be cramped for you, but it keep you be safe. Don't come out till I say."

Quickly leaving the barn and closing the door behind you. Swallowing down your nerves, as the sight of multiple black cars parked all across the gravel driveway and front lawn. Followed by your dad's truck.

"Oh no..."

A helicopter hovered a few meters away from the house. Disturbing the still air. As soon as the black vehicles parked, multiple heavy armoured individuals got out and scouted the farm.

A man wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses approached you, as your dad came to your side.

"Sweetie..?"

"I donno, Dad-"

"Mr Cade Yeager, my name is James Savoy. I'm a federal agent." Savoy took a look around the property. "My men and I are trying to track down an abandoned truck."

You watched one of the men walk past Tessa. Her eyes staring something in her hands, her fingers playing with the object. You saw her adjusting her breath to a calm rhythm, before looking up in your direction.

"It's a nice spread you've got here." Your attention turned back to Savoy. "Too bad she's up for sale."

"Thanks, and she's not." Cade boldly spoke. "And do you mean that truck?" he pointed to an vintage ute covered in rust, the grass and flowers started to reclaim it for many years now.

"Afraid not... y'know Mr Yeager. We received a call from someone whom is concerned about this truck. That wasn't you?"

You briefly glanced daggers to Tessa's direction. She quickly shook her head rapidly, using her index finger to draw a cross over her heart.

"The only thing I'm concerned about is you being on my property without permission."

Savoy scoffed at your dad's words.

"You know, there's a rule about people messing with people from Texas-"

"And we don't know what truck you're talking about."

Savoy took a step towards you, taking off his sunglasses allowing his narrowed stare to burn into your eyes. "The kind that cost American lives!... Ma'am..."

Savoy studied your firm expression before turning back to his men, "search the property!"

"What? What you mean 'search the property'? You don't have a warrant!" Cade protested.

Savoy glared at him, stepping into Cade's personal space. "My face is my warrant"

You swallowed nervously, trying to keep steady shallow breaths as you watched the men move throughout the farm. Roaming into the house and approaching the barn. Voices scratched over their radios, as the buzz of drones flew above.

Cade turned and looked at you, "what is going on Y/N?-"

"I don't know, Dad..."

His brown eyes studied you, "you sure?... I'm happy to vouch for you but I need to know what it is."

You hesitated before speaking, " I. Don't. Know..."

---

"The fuck is all this junk?"

"A hoarder's yard. That's what."

Optimus looked up at the floorboards, hearing voices and footsteps of the agents entering the barn. Trying to lower himself further down in the cramped floor space, his face wincing in pain as the half welded sheet dug into his thighs. Automatically covering it up with his servo.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

A groan escaped from an agent's lips. His footsteps retreating back to the barn doors, "there's no signs. We've got nothing."

Optimus rested his helm against the dirt wall.

"Sir! We have a live armed missile in the trash!"

The Autobot's wide optics quickly glanced up back up.

Oh no... Y/N!!

---

"Shit..." you hissed under your breath. Feeling Cade's questioning daggers immediately turning your way.

"I-I thought it was a dud." You lowly admitted. Hands clenched into fists.

Savoy's glaze switched between you and Cade.

"Look! Okay, yes. Yes, I found a truck. All right!" you admitted.

Tessa kept shaking her head. Cade leaned towards you, muttering your name.

"I towed it back for the parts, and left it here on the driveway last night. This morning it was gone." You gazed at Savoy. "When? Where? I don't know- I swear to God. That's as much as I know about him!"

You tried to approach Tessa. Eyes staring at the ground, Cade's voice shouted questions at you as he followed. But Savoy grabbed your arm.

"Ma'am-"

"What?-"

"You just said 'him'." Savoy smiled as your terrified expression told him everything. "Take them down!"

Your heart jumped into your throat. Fear running up your spine, as the agents forcefully grabbed Cade and Tessa, throwing them down against the grass.

"They don't know about the truck!" you protested. "I know! I know about it! Please, let them go!"

Savoy grabbed your jaw, forcefully making you look at him. "What kind of woman betrays her flesh-and-blood brethren, for some alien metal?"

"He's more human than you ever be!"

He groaned, wiping your spit away from his face. Savoy's fist made contact with your face, two agents restrained you by the arms holding you up. As Savoy grabbed your jaw again.

Clicking his fingers, the agents restraining Cade and Tessa pulled out their weapons. Clocking the gun and removing the safety.

"You'd kill my family?!-"

"If I have to. You've got ten seconds to tell me where the truck is."

Cade fought against the agent whom knelt against his back. "Don't you fucking dare touch my daughters! Hurt them and I'll kill you!"

Tears ran down Tessa's face as she yelled out for you and Cade. The sound of a gunshot made you flinch.

"Next one will go through your father's head." Savoy warned. "Now, the truck-"

"I've told you everything I know!" you protested. "He was here, and now he's gone! That's all I swear!"

---

"I'm telling you the truth!" your voice cried. Hearing the pain in your tone made Optimus' Spark weep. "He's not here! I swear! He's not here!"

"Tell your men to back off! Don't you dare fucking shoot my daughters!"

"Y/N! Y/N! Please!"

The cries from you and your family wurld around Optimus' head. Hearing Savoy countdown from ten, as he continued yelling his demands at you.

Optimus withdraw his cannon from his back plates. Clocking it, allowing the weapon to light up and wurl. Allowing his face guard to untuck from his faceplate and cover his mouth.

Let's roll!

Erupting from underground, Optimus opened fire at his enemies. Blowing them out of the way, and reducing the barn to splinters.

"Here I am!" his machical voice roared, standing at his full height. Allowing all to see him.

His Spark pulsating fast as his optics laid on you. Rage filled him as he changed the output of his cannon, firing non-lethal EMP's in your direction.

"Stay away from her!"

You knelt to the ground, using your arms to shield you from the blast as the agents flew away from you. Tessa and Cade quickly rushed to your side.

"What the fuck is going on?" Cade yelled over the comotion.

"Run Y/N!" you looked up at Optimus as his cannon returned to deadly rounds. "They're going to kill you! Get out of here!"

Heeding the Autobot's warning, grabbing your sister and dad by their hands. Running towards the wheatfield on the left of the farm. Two missiles came from above. Turning your once family home into nothing but rubble.

Without warning the sound of a car engine roared in the air, quickly stopping at the bottom of the wheatfield. As a white Hatchback raced down the hill, and came skidding to a halt before the three of you.

The passenger door flew open. "Hurry! Get in the car!" the male driver yelled.

"Daddy! Y/N! Get in the car!" Tessa shouted. Shoving your dad into the front passenger seat, and trying to pull you into the back with her.

"What about Optimus? We can't just leave him!-"

"Stop protesting, Y/N! And get in the car!"

"Perimeter! Optimus moving your way!" Savoy yelled into the receiver of his radio.

Optimus looked ahead. Breathing a little easier, once his scanners assured him you were at a safe distance. Seeing the Hatchback race down the road, a low groan escaped Optimus' mouth as he crouched down. Forcing his metal plates to shift, loud churning noises rumbled throughout his mechanical body, as he transformed back into a truck.

You and Tessa clung onto the roll cage for dear life, as the hatchback raced down the open fields.

"What's happening, baby? Who are these guys?" the male driver asked Tessa, looking at her reflection through the rearview mirror.

"It's the truck!" she yelled over the engine. "They want my sister's truck!-"

"Truck?! What truck?!" Cade looked at you over his shoulder. He turned to Tess, "who are 'they'?" his attention fell back onto the male driver. "Who are you? And who the hell are you calling, 'baby?'-"

Tessa and the driver paused.

"I know you heard me!-"

"He's Tessa's boyfriend!" you cried out.

Cade's eyes widened, "what?-"

"His name is Shane! I saw him leaving Tessa's room in his underwear!"

"What?!-"

Tessa punched your arm, "well Y/N brought home a Transformer!"

You punched her back. "If you're going to tell a secret. At least get it right! Optimus was already in the barn!"

"At least I tried to keep your secret!-"

"If we survive this. You two girls have a lot of explaining to do!" Cade shouted.

You and Tessa slouched back in the rear seats.

Shane bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Mr Yeager, this was not how I wanted us to meet ok?-"

"Introduction later!" Cade yelled. "Just shut up and drive the car!"

Two black cars appeared in Shane's rearview mirror. Putting the accelerator closer to the ground, the Hatchback raced through the neighboring paddocks.

"I'm going to try and lose them in the cornfield!" Shane spoke over the roaring engine, as he took a sharp right turn. Driving down a dirt road, kicking up dust and dirt behind him.

A scream left your mouth, as your wide-eyed gaze saw one of the black cars quickly emerging from the tall corn. "Watch out!-"

"Brace for impact!"

Heeding Shane's warning, you and Tessa grabbed hold of the handles above the passenger door. Reaching out for one another, as the car t-boned into the side of Shane.

Screams filled the car, as everyone tried to shield their eyes from the rain of glass. Forcing the Hatchback off the dirt track and into the tall field, Shane kept surprising control of the car. The vehicle swerved in and out of trees.

The speed chase continued onto the main road. Shane weaved in and out of oncoming traffic, effortlessly changing lanes and avoiding pedestrians. Other drivers bleeped their horns and flashed their headlights.

Tessa scrunched up her face, as the sound of crashing cars piled up behind as Shane drove through red lights. And sped through traffic.

Your heart beat hard against your ribcage. Anxiety and adrenaline raced through your veins. Closing your eyes and placing a hand over your stomach as Shane drifted around a corner.

"Great! Now they're firing at us!" Tessa said as bullets ricocheted off the Hatchback.

You and her quickly braced yourselves against the driver and front passenger seat.

"Man! I don't know how I'm driving so good!" Shane exclaimed with a smile. "It's like, today I've gone to a whole other level-"

"Road! Focus!" Cade shouted.

"Shane! Look out!" he drifted around another corner as Tessa's warning came to him.

Your stomach turned into a sickening knot, "I honestly don't know how long I can hold myself together-"

"Y/N! If you throw up on my jeans. I will never forgive you!"

You looked up at Tessa, giving her questioning eyes. "That's your concern right now?!-"

"Hang on!" Shane momentarily stopped the car. Skidding to the side, before putting his foot down on the pedal again and crashing through an empty cafe.

Exiting through the back alley and down an old, forgotten road.

"Lose them through the factory, Shane!"

"You got it, Babe!"

Racing around the empty car park of an abandoned factory. Swerving around corners and driving through large gaps in the building.

"I thought you knew how to drive this thing!" you shouted, as it appeared nothing Shane did was working in losing the tail chasers.

Optimus' Spark raced through his wires, as he drifted and turned through the factory. His scanners having a hard time keeping track of the little Hatchback. Metal plates shifted and groaned as he unleashed his full height, jumping from roof to roof of the factory in an attempt to keep up with you.

You quickly looked out the back window, as Optimus' voice called out for you. Your eyes widening as he rolled in the way of the black cars, causing them to slam into him and setting alight upon collision.

"Take them upstairs!" Tessa pointed from the backseat.

"We're gonna lose them on the fifth floor!" Shane agreed.

The knot in your stomach tightened as the Hatchback entered a multi-story car park. Your skin turned pale, bracing yourself against the back of your dad's seat, as the car drifted around corners and moved up the levels.

"Do that thing, Shane!"

"You know it-"

"What? What thing?" your panicky tone questioned.

"What we're about to do is gonna be kinda scary." Somehow Shane's tone didn't sound much of a warning, as he failed to hide the excitement in his tone.

Pressing the accelerator fully against the floor, Shane looked at Tessa through the rearview mirror. "Ready, Babe?"

"Got it" she said, leaning as far forward as she could. Grabbing onto the handbrake.

"Three. Two. One.. Pull!"

At Shane's command, Tessa pulled the handbrake as hard as she could. Causing the car to sharply stop, then turn right and continue racing towards a ramp that hung out of a window.

"No! No! No!" Cade cried.

The pit of your stomach lifted during the brief seconds of weightlessness. Until it dropped hard once gravity pulled you back down. A high pitch scream left your mouth, hands clutching into the back of Cade's seat, ripping the fabric. As you closed your eyes tightly.

By some miracle the Hatchback roughly landed on a ramp upon the ground. The two black cars behind you wasn't so lucky.

"You two girls are so grounded!" Cade shouted, as Shane drifted around one more corner.

Churning and clunking noises begun to erupt from the engine. The car finally came to an abrupt halt, as Shane slammed on the breaks.

Smoke begun to leak out of the hood.

"Shit! We gotta go!"

Shane and Cade quickly got out of the Hatchback. Optimus blared his horn, rolling up a few feet behind.

"Optimus!" you shouted as Cade helped you get out of the car.

The four of you ran towards the rusty truck. Quickly dodging the rain of bullets from above. Once safely inside, the Autobot sped out of the car park and raced towards the entrance to the highway.

[romanarose]

Cola

Chubby!Francisco Morales x fem!reader

Summary: Frankie loves how you taste so sweet…. “My pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola”

Content and warnings: Pussy eating like a mad man, ass eating, madly in love, desperately horny, feral Frankie, object insertion, fucked with a foreign object, don’t do this at home, premature ejaculation 💕

Immersivity: reader is AFAB and wears dresses, uses she/her

A/n: inspired by all them pics of Pedro in the Coca Cola shirt… yummy. Finals are DONE and it’s time for my return after a month of no fics!

Special thanks to @hornystan for proofreading and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for this amazing header! Thank you for making my return so special

Support writers, reblog and comment!

*************

Surely, this was what heaven was like.

Sprawling green meadows and rolling hills, your handsome husband flying you out on a helicopter to a private property. A wicker basket full of a picnic he packed himself had been tossed aside in favor of you humping Frankie’s leg as you both laid on the quilted blanket.

“Baby,” Frankie chuckles, eyes closed tight and nose scrunched up a little as you peppered his scruffy beard with kisses. Sunshine warmed your back in your red sundress, Frankie’s large hands pushing it up and over the swell of your ass cheeks. “We haven't even had lunch yet.”

“Don’t care, need you.” You mutter between kisses, desperately rutting against your dear lover like a bitch in heat.

“But the ice will melt!”

“Don’t. Care.” You kiss his sweet, pudgy face covered in salt and pepper facial hair. “Need. You.”

Frankie laughs again, but his strong arms lift you off his full tummy. “Baby, it’s hot out,” he smiles and sits up, prompting you to do the same despite your cute little pout. “C’mon, have a drink.” He reached into the basket where a few cola bottles sat in a tin bucket? full of ice next to some sandwiches and fruit he cut up himself, just for you. Sweet, sweet man. You packed his favorite, homemade red velvet cupcakes. The cream cheese icing was sitting in the iced tin along with the cola, ready to be added to the cupcakes, nice and chilled.

He opens a bottle, placing the lid inside the basket, careful not to litter, but you don’t drink right away. Instead, you watch as his hands flex to open another bottle, tilting his head back to chug it. His profile was immaculate. Your eyes scan down, taking in the curve of his nose, his softened jawline, plush lips wrapped around the tip of the bottle… but quickly move to his throat. He was a marvel, Adam's apple bobbing and a small trickle of cola down his neck…

With a refreshed, “ah!” Frankie places his trash in the basket, folds in his creasing stomach twisting as he turns. When he looked back, his eyes went wide. First, his eyes went to your discarded panties. Then to you. There you sat, legs spread open and bent, holding your coke bottle in one hand and pumping your desperate, needy pussy with the other. “Jesus, baby…” He licks his lips and you lament the leftover sweetness on his skin wicked away before your tongue could taste how the sugar mixed with his sweat.

“Frankie…” You whine, desperate and mewling for his touch, your desire so intense there was no way you could wait for lunch to end. No way in hell. Tears pricked at your eyes from the burn of the sun and the overwhelming need you had for him. It was always like this with Francisco, intense and burning and all-consuming even after all these years. It didn’t matter, you still fucked like there was no one else on the planet. To him, and certainly to you, there wasn’t.

Frankie mumbled a swear under his breath, his own chest heaving and already tight pants growing tighter. He orders you to lay down and like a good girl, you obey but he stops you. Frankie takes off his hat and plops it down on your head. “For your eyes.” With that, he kisses your lips and you get to taste the lingering traces of his drink. Then, he pushes you down.

*

You clutch the cold, undrank coke bottle in one hand, Frankie’s sweaty brown curls in the other, the bill of his hat protects your eyes from the sun. You were two orgasms in, drenched in sweat and probably smelling terrible, but he didn’t care.

“Baby?” Frankie asked, making your eyes flick down to him. His eyes were wide and wet, intense and brown. Fuck, he was handsome.

You’re panting, but answer him. “Yeah?”

“I’m real thirsty…”

Normally, you would assume he’s talking about wanting to drink your cum, lap at your pussy as you squirt all over him, hips bucking against his mustache… but honestly, it was hot and you assumed he wanted a drink.

“Here” You hand him the coke bottle in your hands sweetly, sitting up as you do but Frankie orders you to lie down as he grabs it.

You look at him confused but do as he says. Frankie always took care of you, you trusted him, so you laid back down on the heavy quilt, feeling the grass move under the weight of your head.

Knelt before you, Frankie looked a bit of a mess. His curls were all over the place, brown curls every which way, as sweaty as his beard was wet. It wasn’t even that hot a day, but you were working up an appetite.

“You belong to me, right?” He asks you, eyes roaming over your body up and down in your pretty sundress. He looked like he was about to eat you alive, like it was taking everything in him right now not to pounce on you like a werewolf. Francisco’s hands move up and down your bent legs, a sheen of sweat gliding them down, fingernails lightly digging into the meat of you r thighs as if only a thread of sanity was preventing him from digging his claws in and making you subject to his insatiable hunger.

“Yeah baby.” You whisper, breathy but without hesitation. “Every inch.”

Francisco's eyes were locked into yours, pupils black as night, threatening to swallow the whites of his eyes. “Tilt your hips up for me.”

Confused but obedient, you feel your brows furrow as you reach under yourself and hold your hips up. Your eyes couldn’t leave his, not if you tried, his hands so steady and sure he didn’t even need to look down as he slowly inserted the tip of the opened coke bottle into your tight hole. You gasped, though not so much at the intrusion; his fingers hadn’t stretched you yet, but you were used to taking his whole cock. No, the bottle was cold. Not freezing, not after being out of the ice a few minutes, but cold. Francisco pauses, eyebrows cocked in a question of your comfort.

You didn’t want him to stop. “Keep going.”

With a growl, it takes everything in him not to shove the full bottle straight up your cunt, but he knows better. Instead, he took his time. The first time he inserted the foreign object. Once he knew you were okay, all bets were off. Francisco vigorously pumped you, forcing your eyes to tear away from his as you lost yourself in pleasure, feeling the cool drink pour into your channel.

“Such a needy little pussy… she’s so desperate, isn’t she? She just needs to be stretched and filled all the time…”

“Fuck! Frankie! Shit, that feels - ohmyfuckinggod - so good! You feel so good, fuck, I love you so m- shit!” You were approaching a third orgasm, the fizzing of the carbonation a strange sensation in your sensitive insides, and his cock hasn’t even been inside you yet. Frankie couldn’t stop staring at your pussy, licking his lips and palming the erection in his jeans. He had so far been neglected, edging himself in order to bring you, and subsequently him, as much pleasure as possible. Your pleasure was his, your lust was his, your pretty cunt was his to do as he pleased. He could play games with you, shove whatever he wanted into whatever holes and you’d let him… but Frankie didn’t get off on humiliation, he got off on you.

He watched your pussy lips repeatedly swallow the bottle, bits of coke and cum leaking out of you as he began to overwhelm your body. His hand squeezed his dick, throbbing in his pants and he knew he wasn’t going to last. He’d have to recuperate and fuck your face into the grass after lunch. Right now, though… he was thirsty.

Frankie yanked your hands out from under you, pulling the bottle out as you whimper and feel the leftover spill all over your pussy and thighs. That would be annoying later, but that didn’t matter now, not when your loving, adorable husband was dropping to his stomach and latching his lip around your hole. Frankie was drinking coca cola out of your cunt.

He lapped and sucked and licked and drank, the pop fizzling out on your pussy lips as Francisco, whining and crying into your cunt as he came, desperately licked every inch of you. He needed to make this last, he needed to taste every drop, tasting your thighs for the sweet you were so desperate to suck off his lips a moment ago. His tongue was impossible to please, spreading your asscheeks to taste what had trickled down. Only when he seemed to run out of energy, his orgasm satiated, did he slow. You could feel the wetness from his eyes on your lips.

“I just love you so fucking much.” He kissed your swollen, fucked out pussy and closed his eyes, head resting on your thigh as his eyes drooped. He must’ve really tuckered himself out. “So sweet for me.”

*************

Please consider reblogging, if this flops I’ll scream

Inspo comes from Ozzie��s amazing Joel fic, beer bottle insertion

If this does well I’ll write part 2 with reader licking that cream cheese off his dick….

Thank you to everyone who has been supporting me through a difficult month, it has not always been easy between school, and everything that happened, but I got through it and I’m looking forward to something new. I finished up all my assignments and papers even though it was absolute chaos lol and now all I have left is a couple online next semester and then I graduate. 💕💕💕💕

Each and everyone of you so so much, please take care of yourselves!

[itsgreti]

BONDS FORGED IN FIRE

pairing. task force 141 x f!reader (platonic)

summary. (Y/N) is a medic who joined Task Force 141 and proved her worth, earning the respect of her new team, who later on became her family.

warning. mentions of physical injuries, using guns (typical cod theme)

word count. 1.6k

a/n: parts in italics are flashbacks. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me!

 (Y/N) found herself drawn to the call of duty, as a skilled medic, she had always believed in the power of healing in the middle of chaos, and her dedication to saving lives had earned her a reputation far and wide. But it was a chance that would change the path of her destiny.

Task Force 141, a legendary unit working in secrecy had heard of (Y/N)'s deeds and sought her out for her unmatched skills. Captain John Price, the team's stoic leader, saw the value of the skilled medic in the heat of battle, and he knew that (Y/N) would be an inevitable asset to their ranks.

When (Y/N) first arrived at the Task Force 141 base, she met with a mix of scepticism and curiosity. Ghost, the mysterious special forces operator known for his gruff manner, eyed her suspiciously, his scepticism obvious in every word he spoke. "Another recruit," he muttered, his tone with disregard. "We'll see if she's worth the trouble."

Soap MacTavish, on the other hand, greeted her with a friendly and playful smile. "Welcome to the team, lass," he said, his easy-going nature a steady contrast to Ghost's grumpiness. "Don't mind Ghost, he's always like this."

Captain Price, ever the commanding presence, wasted no time in assessing (Y/N)'s skills. "We expect nothing but the best from you," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "Our missions are dangerous, and lives depend on your expertise."

And then there was Gaz, the welcoming soldier whose warmth and company put (Y/N) at ease. "Glad to have you on board," he said with a smile, offering her a handshake. "We're a tight-knit group here, but we look out for each other."

(Y/N) had barely settled into her new surroundings when the call came in. Their first mission together would be a test of her skills and her ability to integrate into this close-knit team. The objective was clear: infiltrate an enemy stronghold and secure valuable intelligence. It was the kind of high-risk operation that Task Force 141 excelled at.

As they gathered in the meeting room, Price outlined the mission. "We'll insert under the cover of night," he began, pointing to a map of the compound. "Ghost, you'll take overwatch. Soap, you're on demolition. Gaz, you and (Y/N) will handle the interior place. We move fast, we move quietly, and we get the job done. Understood?"

A chorus of affirmatives followed. Ghost remained aloof, his eyes hidden behind his skull mask, but (Y/N) could feel his gaze on her. Soap offered her a reassuring smile, while Gaz gave her a thumbs-up.

As they geared up, Soap sidled over to (Y/N). "Nervous?" he asked, his tone light.

"A little," she admitted, securing her medical pack.

"Don't worry, lass. You'll do fine. Just stick close to us, and we'll watch each other's backs."

Ghost, overhearing, grunted. "This isn't a walk in the park. Keep your head down and stay focused."

(Y/N) nodded, determined to prove herself. "I will, Lieutenant."

Price's voice cut through the tension. "Mount up, we're moving out."

The helicopter ride to the drop zone was tense. The team remained silent, and each member was lost in their thoughts. As they approached the target, Price's voice crackled over the comms. "Get ready. We insert in sixty."

The helicopter hovered just above the ground, and one by one, they rappelled down, disappearing into the shadows. Ghost took position on a nearby ridge, his sniper rifle at the ready.

"Overwatch in position," Ghost reported his voice a low whisper over the comms.

"Copy that," Price responded. "Gaz, lead the way."

Gaz signalled for (Y/N) to follow, and they moved silently towards the compound, while Soap and Price secured the other floors. The night was their ally, cloaking them in darkness as Gaz and (Y/N) approached the perimeter.

Inside, the compound was a maze of corridors and guard posts. Gaz moved with practised ease, his rifle at the ready. (Y/N) stayed close, holding her rifle close to her chest and her senses on high alert.

"Clear," Gaz whispered, motioning for her to follow. They reached a heavily secured door, and Gaz quickly hacked the keypad.

"We're in," he said, pushing the door open.

Inside, they found a room filled with computers and filing cabinets. (Y/N) immediately began searching for the intel while Gaz kept watch. Minutes felt like hours as they sifted through the files, the tension thick in the air.

"Got it," (Y/N) said, holding up a flash drive. "Let's move."

Gaz nodded, but just as they turned to leave, the alarms blared to life, red lights flashing throughout the compound. "We've been compromised!" Gaz shouted.

"Fall back!" Price ordered over the comms. "Ghost, we need cover fire!"

"On it," Ghost replied, his sniper rifle already picking off approaching enemies.

The team moved swiftly, fighting their way through the compound. Soap detonated the charges, creating chaos and confusion among the enemy forces. (Y/N) stuck close to the team, her medical kit ready for any injuries.

As they reached the outer perimeter, an explosion rocked the ground, sending debris flying. Gaz was hit, a piece of shrapnel embedding in his leg. He fell to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Gaz is down!" (Y/N) shouted, dropping to her knees beside him. "I need cover!"

"Copy that!" Ghost replied, his rifle taking out enemies with deadly precision.

Soap and Price formed a protective barrier around (Y/N) as she worked quickly to stabilize Gaz's leg. "Hang in there, Sergeant," she said, her voice calm despite the chaos.

Gaz gritted his teeth, his face pale. "Just a scratch, doc."

With Gaz stabilized, they resumed their retreat, moving as a solid unit. They reached the extraction point just as the helicopter arrived, the rotors kicking up dust and sand. Ghost provided cover fire until the last moment, ensuring everyone made it on board safely.

(Y/N) smiled as she remembered her first mission with Task Force 141. It's been a few years now, and she is still in one piece alongside the others. The members of Task Force 141 became like family to her, and she took her role as their caretaker seriously.

The sun was beginning to set over the rugged landscape, casting a warm, golden hue across the horizon. As the team settled into their temporary base, a rare moment of peace descended upon them. (Y/N), was busy tending to the minor wounds of Gaz again, just like in her first assignment with them. Despite the exhaustion etched into her features, she moved with practised ease, her hands steady and her touch gentle.

Price was the first to sit down on a makeshift bench. He lit a cigar, the familiar ritual helping him unwind. His sharp eyes softened as he watched (Y/N) work. "You always manage to patch us up, don't you, doc?" he said with a hint of a smile.

(Y/N) looked up from bandaging Gaz's arm and returned the smile. "Someone's got to keep you guys in one piece, Captain."

Gaz winced slightly as (Y/N) tightened the bandage. "Yeah, well, if it weren't for you, I'd probably be in pieces by now."

(Y/N) chuckled, giving his shoulder a gentle pat. "You're tougher than you look, Gaz."

Ghost, silent as ever, observed from the shadows. His skull mask concealed his expression, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of gratitude. He had always admired (Y/N)'s dedication and the calm she brought to their chaotic world. He approached her, handing over a canteen of water. "You should take a break," he said, his voice a low rumble.

(Y/N) accepted the canteen with a nod. "Thanks, Simon. But you know me… I can't rest until everyone else is taken care of."

Soap, always the optimist, sauntered over and plopped down beside Price. "Well, lass, once you're done, how about joining us for a quick drink? We all deserve it."

(Y/N) finished tending to Gaz and wiped her hands on a rag. "I think I can manage that, Johnny. Just give me a few more minutes."

As (Y/N) wrapped up her duties, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. These men were more than just her comrades – they were her family. Each of them had their own way of expressing gratitude, and she cherished the small moments of connection they shared.

Finally, (Y/N) joined the group around the small fire they had built. Soap handed her a flask with a grin. "Here, this should help take the edge off."

She took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her body. "Thanks, Soap. I think we all needed this."

Price puffed on his cigar, his gaze distant but peaceful. "It's not often we get a chance to sit like this. We should make the most of it."

Gaz nodded, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Agreed. We don't get many moments like these."

Ghost remained silent, but his presence was a comfort to everyone. He leaned back, his eyes reflecting the firelight. In these quiet moments, the mask felt less like a barrier and more like a part of him, a reminder of the bond they all shared.

(Y/N) looked around at the men who had become her family. "You know, no matter what we face out there, I always feel safe knowing we're together."

Soap raised his flask in a toast. "To the best damn team there is."

"To Task Force 141," Price echoed, raising his cigar.

Gaz lifted his flask as well. "To us."

Ghost gave a rare, slight nod, his eyes meeting (Y/N)'s. "To family."

They clinked their flasks together, the sound a small but significant affirmation of their bond. As the night grew darker, they shared stories and laughter, the weight of their burdens temporarily lifted. At that moment, surrounded by her team, (Y/N) felt a profound sense of belonging. No matter what lay ahead, she knew they would face it together.

And in those brief moments of solace, amidst the warmth of company and the glow of the fire, Task Force 141 found a momentary but precious break from the relentless world outside.

[bornofsteelblood]

Revelation: König/Kidnapped!reader

“We didn’t know she was yours!” your abductor wailed, belly writhing on the ground. König's eyes flashed with a sickening delight upon hearing those words. Yes, you were his and he was going to end this nightmare for the both of you.

Warnings: Heavy mentions of blood and gore, mentions of gunfire/weapons, mentions of knives, hostage situations, violence, angst, grief, descriptions of death, Reader insert, Protective!Konig. Big man is going through it.

Four months. You had been taken from him four months ago. Your current coordinates unknown to König. Endless nights of turmoil and guilt kept him up. He should have protected you better. He should have known this was a possibility. This was entirely his fault.   

Three weeks. A video of you trembling, beaten and bloodied, had been anonymously sent to König three weeks ago. The Kortac base comm center was decommissioned for over a month due to the havoc wreaked upon it by his blinding rage. Computer screens were smashed into an unrecognizable heap of wires. Chairs and tables were ripped apart as if made of paper. A Glock knife had been stabbed repeatedly through the large monitor that hung on the wall; the same monitor that had showcased your distress.   

Two days. The Colonel only needed two days to devise a plan to rescue you. While König was an expert at hostage negotiation, he had no intention to negotiate your release. For the first time since your disappearance, clarity had washed over him in a cold sweep as he recounted his strategy. The answer was simple and barbaric. He’d enter as the hooded executioner. Death and destruction brought upon your captors to splatter blood through their encampment. He’d hang them by their lower intestines from the rafters to admonish an event like this from happening again.       

One hour. The helicopter was going to touch down in one hour. One hour until you were safe in his embrace. The few operators König had allowed to accompany him shuffled past to stock themselves with as much ammo as possible. He had taken down entire teams of terrorist on his own, he didn't need their help. They weren’t his comrades anymore; they were witnesses. Spectators to a situation that felt like a never-ending nightmare that involved putting you in harm's way. A harrowing fact that depleted his sanity the longer you were gone.    

The parachute deployed swiftly to carry him down to where he believed you were being kept, like a large omen of death sweeping down from the sky. König landed with a heavy thud as he barked orders to the others. “No one leaves alive until I find her.” Nodding their compliance, the operators began a cacophony of gunfire that engulfed the small encampment. König drew his rifle from its holster on his back, his finger itching to pull the trigger. He wanted to be in the middle of the action instead of sniping from hundreds of meters away. Bearing witness to the carnage he was going to inflict on the men who had stolen you.    

Rounding an abandoned truck, König crouched to assess the situation. His eyes flicked between his men and the target; a small hideaway that would go unnoticed by most. Bounding up to the door, König had no trouble forcing his way inside. Blinded by rage and vindication, he mowed down anyone who stood in his way of securing your freedom. High from the violence he could effortlessly commit, his malicious laughter rang out triumphantly as the butt of his gun shattered an unknown masked man's nose. He was hoping that you would recognize it and know that he was here to save you.      

A single figure stood out amongst the sea of corpses, a familiar face. König recognized him to be the man who had dug the sharp blade of his knife across your cheek and forehead from your hostage video. “Wait..p-please! I’ll show you where she’s-” The camo-clad, smaller man begged for his life but was cut off by a vice grip on his throat. A single hand raised his feet from the floor to be at eye level with the terrifying masked man. The Colonel couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of this lesser being struggling for his life, feet kicking frantically against shin guards. His voice dropped to a dangerous growl “Beg for your life like you made her.”      

Loosening his grip, your captor fell to the ground with a sickening snap of bone. “We didn’t know she was yours!” he wailed, belly writhing on the ground. König's eyes flashed with a sickening delight upon hearing those words. Yes, you were his and he was going to end this nightmare for the both of you. Raising the rifle, he fired two rounds into the man's left thigh to prevent him from getting up. “Stell dich deinem Tod, Abschaum.” 

With a heavy kick to the shoulder, König planted his entire weight on the front of his clavicle to pin him to the ground. Your captor howled like a rabid dog and König was going to put him down like one. He aimed between the eyes and fired, a spray of blood showered against his mask. 

Profuse apologies and reassurances loudly tumbled from the Colonels’ lips, hoping you could hear him and would answer back. His shoulder battered against the door that divided the two of you. It was too silent on your end. König swallowed his panic down and swung his leg back to kick squarely above the doorknob. The wood splintered and burst open under the force. “Stay with me, ja? You’ll be alright!” His blood ran cold as he kneeled over you, realizing you weren’t moving.  

Your neck was twisted at a horrid angle and blood that had flowed from your mouth lay dry. Death had found you first. They mutilated your beauty into something unrecognizable. He couldn’t bring you out looking like that, it wasn’t right. It would draw sympathy that König couldn’t handle; their looks of empathy would break him. It would confirm that his worst fear, his endless nightmare, was now a bleak reality.       

Had you spent your last moments in agony at the thought of your lover never rescuing you? König couldn’t breathe. His throat constricted so tightly he hoped the revelation of your death would stop his heart. Did you believe that he wasn’t coming to rescue you? You died thinking you weren’t loved.

König draped his mask softly over your face, a death shroud of his own making. He couldn’t bear to look at the destruction inflicted upon you. You’re body lay limp and cold in his arms while his boots trudged through the crimson-stained dirt. The other operators quickly shifted their eyes downward. It felt intrusive to gaze upon the sulking, lumbering god as he marched past. His eyes were distant and glazed over to match his expressionless face. Your body cradled against his chest. The helicopter ride back home was silent and bleak as König refused to put you down. 

It became a whispered myth among privates, what the face of the dreadful Austrian resembled. No one from that day dared to recall what he looked like and he had outgrown any ridicule he felt towards his body. He could take the shame of a failed mission but not the emptiness it had brought with it.     

After you were laid to rest, König decommissioned his infamous t-shirt mask. He now brought far superior helmets and masks into the field. That particular mask was a relic and the final object that you two had shared. It meant everything to him. He would hold it between his hands and rest his cheek against it to seek comfort during those guilt-ridden nights. Those nights when he swore his ribs were being crushed from the ache in his chest. Those nights filled with guttural sobs that hadn’t wracked his body since he was ostracized in grade school. While the mask was no longer implemented, he used it to gently wipe the sorrow off of his life.

 

Translation: Face your death, scum. - > Stell dich deinem Tod, Abschaum.

[half-bakedboy]

for the buck/tommy prompts — “you’re an idiot.” “yeah, but i’m *your* idiot.”

A few months into dating, Evan asks Tommy to a family dinner at Sergeant Grant and Captain Nash’s house. Tommy’s never been nervous when meeting a significant other’s family or friends, but he sure as Hell is terrified to meet Evan’s pseudo-parents. 

You know, the ones Tommy hijacked his own helicopter for because they saved an entire ship of people from being murdered by pirates, blown up, and drowned in the middle of the ocean where they’d probably never be found?

It didn’t matter that he had met them before. How is he supposed to feel normal about meeting two people like that? 

“I can practically hear you spiraling, and I feel like that’s supposed to be my job,” Evan interrupts his, well, spiraling. Tommy turns toward him from the driver’s seat with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’m meeting your entire family together for the first time. How is this about you again?” Tommy asks. Evan must know he means well because there’s a soft smile on his face and he reaches out to grab Tommy’s hand. If he was a lesser man, they might have been shaking. He feels like he might start when Evan’s face turns more serious. 

“You know I haven’t had the best track record with women…” Evan begins.

Tommy can’t help but interrupt. “Good thing I’m not a woman…”

“Not a woman, I know,” Evan finishes the inside joke with him. He’s running his thumb in soft circles over the back of Tommy’s hand, spelling out words Tommy wishes he could decipher. “You’re different in more ways than that, though.” 

Tommy doesn’t speak even though Evan expects it if the long pause he allows says anything. 

“You might not be part of the 118 right now, but you’re as good as family. You’ve worked side-by-side with Hen and Chim, you were part of the first team that Cap led in L.A., and your friendship with Eddie has only grown since we got together.” Evan sighs. “I’ve always been terrified of not being enough so I’ve pushed people like you away. People who I respect, who I envy, who I wish I could be like so that they can’t replace me.” 

“No one can replace you, Evan,” Tommy inserts, even though he knows he doesn’t have to. Evan knows that, but Tommy will never stop reminding him. 

“No, they can’t,” Evan says confidently. Tommy squeezes his hand with pride. “But that makes this—us—all the more serious to me. You’re sticking around for as long as we’ll have each other, and probably after that.” Evan takes a deep breath and, with vulnerability bursting out of his blue eyes, says, “I guess, this is my way of saying that I want you in this family whether you’re with me or not.” 

Tommy practically melts at the words. It’s what he’s wanted since he first hopped in that helicopter, since before his friendship with Eddie or his relationship with Evan. He’s missed Hen and Howie, and he wants to laugh with their wives about stories from their pasts. He wants to get to know the first Captain he met who deserved to be in his position, and say thank you to the first cop to shake his hand when he finally—and accidentally—came out in a fit of frustration. 

Evan knows exactly how much the sentiment means to him, and to hear him say it out loud, makes emotion swell up in his throat. He knows it’s too soon to talk about forever, but he’s never felt something so close. 

“Plus, if they’re your family, too, they can’t be mad at me for not telling them I was bringing you because the invite was implied.” 

With the moment thoroughly broken, Evan jumps out of the car and runs around to open Tommy’s door. Tommy sighs as he exits, but reaches out to hold Evan’s hand anyways.

“You’re an idiot,” Tommy mutters with a shake of his head. 

There’s so much fondness in the words, that he might as well have said I love you. 

Evan’s grin barely falters, and he kisses Tommy’s cheek quickly but firmly. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” 

It’s not an I love you, too but one day, Tommy thinks it might be.