#props component

[pacificrimrefs]

Jaeger Battery

Source

[ifishouldvanish]

hate hate hate h1-h6 elements. it should be one element and the hierarchy is just inferred from the DOM structure. if your tree is fucked that's on you.

[gagande]

Purecode reviews | Limitations and When to Use Them

Like all tools in programming, inline styles come with their own set of pros and cons. They shine when applying unique styles to single elements and for prototyping or dynamic styling based on component state or props. 

[acidhydra101]

oh yeah btw forgot to mention this is my interpretation of the sound of the apocalypse rail (volume warning)

(as heard at the end of one of my albums :D)

"kill them with kindness" WRONG. apocalypse rail

[yueyimold]

two color plastic dice toys mold

China 2 component mold maker, offer dual color plastic dice toys, multi shot game dice mold, double mold dice props, two tone dice cubes mold, 2k polymer dice

[inertia-m]

Me after spending 8 hrs on 3 React Components. Add in Redux, and that's 15 hrs xD

feel like i've finally gotten to the point where the answer to "will i be able to figure out how to do the thing" is almost always yes, and then the operative question becomes "will i be able to figure out how to do the thing quickly". and unfortunately the answer there is usually no

[jejewonster]

Milk and Cookies

do you like my cookies? they’re made just for you. 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

❁  pairing: chwe vernon x f.reader ❁  genre: friends to fucking, aphrodisiacs, smut (MDNI 18+) ❁  wc: 1.8k

— vernon doesn't know how badly you want him. hopefully the chocolates you bought will help him see you differently.

❁  smut tags/warning: DUBCON, buzzcut vern, aphrodisiac chocolate is used to coerce vernon, dryhumping, penetrative sex, creampie, thigh fucking?, choking, reader is manipulative, reader acts like vernon's sexual advances are unsolicited at first. ❁ a/n: read my guidlines. don't like don't read. block me if this isn't your cup of tea. vernon is meant to have a buzzcut but i couldn't find a good pic to make into a banner :( sry! thank you to @sunniques for beta reading ♡.

it’s not your fault that your best friend doesn’t realize how much you want to fuck him.

despite how many times you’ve tried to make it obvious how badly you’ve ached for him to give you what you need finally, none of your plans have worked in your favour. 

“hey, you ready?” vernon calls out for you. 

after clearing your mind from your depraved train of thoughts, you turn to him from your kitchen to smile back at his awaiting figure that’s sat on your couch. leaning against the headrest, his arms propped up against the cushions with his legs spread. 

it doesn’t help that he’s agreed to your remarks on how good a buzzcut would look on him. the lack of hair on his head is new and exciting, and you wish to feel the buzzed hair graze against your inner thighs. 

“yeah, just grabbing a few snacks. gimme a minute,” you smile, although you can feel the way it doesn’t fully reach your eyes. 

taking the box of chocolates from the fridge, you made sure not to forget the most important component of your plan. if anyone had found out about your idea, they would call you insane, but you couldn’t care less. 

you’re not accustomed to being denied what you need, or what you crave either. it’s not your fault you’re tastebuds have been tingling for someone as sweet as honey. 

staring down at the chocolate box in your hands, a smile begins to creep onto your face. vernon won’t be able to ignore the undeniable sexual attention after this. 

the aphrodisiac-filled candy is cold in your hands, but in a few hours, it’ll be a warm memory of tonight’s events. 

taking your designated spot beside vernon, you hand him the chocolate. 

“here have one, i got it the other day and thought we could try them together,” you nudge the box of confections towards him. 

“sure. these look expensive as fuck? where’d you get them?” 

shrugging your shoulders you act as nonchalant as you can, “nowhere special, just some place downtown.” 

𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖ 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

vernon’s skin is scalding. he isn’t sure what the hell is wrong with him, but his body temperature has gotten higher with every passing second. there’s an ache in cock that he’s so desperate to release but there’s no way he’s going to be able to go to the bathroom with the situation he’s in. 

with you beside him on the couch, the two of you shifted into a position where you’re both lying down facing the TV. the sounds coming from the screen are nothing in comparison to the pulse that rings in his ears. 

one arm is placed securely around your waist, legs tangled along the cushions. you’re way too close. close enough that he can feel the way your tiny sleeping shorts leave nothing up to the imagination. the curve of your ass is pressed tightly against his growing erection. vernon is a hundred percent sure you can feel how hard he is right now, yet he’s still frozen in place, not wanting to reveal his dirty little secret even further. 

sneaking a peek at your face, your eyes are still trained on the movie, but vernon can’t handle it anymore. he needs to do something. anything. 

it’s like a shot to his chest, you squirm under his grasp and if he wasn’t so aware, a groan would’ve left his lips. instead, he sucks in a breath, doing everything in his power to create the smallest bit of distance between you. 

“hey, are you feeling warm?” he asks you, trying to distract himself from the way the blood is draining his body and rushing into his semi hard on.

“no, not really? are you okay?” you turn, eyes piercing into his soul. 

“a little bit,” he sighs, not realizing he’s been holding his breath this whole time. 

you stiffen up, and the smallest graze of your ass against him has his brain turning to mush. vernon is filled to the brim with confusion and frustration, and it’s even worse that he can’t seem to get an ounce of relief. not unless he wants to embarrass himself in front of the girl he’s been pining over for years. 

“i can go grab you some–v-vernon!” your sentence is cut off, vernon cannot have you standing up just to see how hard he is right now. 

“n-no it’s fine just–just stay where you are,” vernon breathes out. 

the look you give him is filled with confusion, but you do what he says anyways. 

“fine. let’s finish the movie first.” 

snuggling into him more, vernon’s breath hitches. self-control slipping away from his fingertips the more you situate yourself into a more comfortable position. he’s really starting to lose it now, whatever morals he had left were thrown out the window with his conscience. 

as if he’s being controlled by a puppeteer, his hips find themselves moving on their own. rutting into the crevice of your ass, the shorts bunching up to reveal the supple skin underneath. vernon’s brain is fogged with arousal and no matter how badly he feels for using you; the relief he’s receiving overrides every single one of the morals he’s set up for himself. 

“A-ah–vernon? w-what’s going on?” you whimper as he continues to grind into you. 

“i-i’m sorry. i really tried to ignore it, but shit, it feels so fucking good,” vernon groans from behind you. 

the nape of your neck is in front of him, and hides his face in it, not wanting to reveal the rosy blush sprawled on his cheeks. the friction between you two creates a tent to strain against his pants, his large hands move down towards your soft thighs. touching them with the softest of caresses, the heat of your skin radiates onto his palms. 

his fingers trailing up your skin, skipping the heat between your legs in favour of your breasts. the speed of his hips pick up and now both of his hands have you encased into his body. both of his palms grope at your tits over the thin fabric of your tank top. 

it’s as if he’s been put in a trance. no matter how guilty he feels, he can’t stop himself from defiling you. 

“i’m so sorry darling, i can’t stop,” he whimpers against you. 

“v-vernon, i’m not sure about this,” you speak up, but your ass is following his movements in tandem. pushing back against his hard member as he continues to grope you. 

“just give it to me, just this once. i’ll make it worth while darling,” vernon grunts against you. 

his hands move down once more, propping your thigh up to give himself access to where he needs you most. the other palm still tweaking your nipple, under your top this time. pointer finger and thumb rolling the sensitive nub till you’re putty in his hands. 

vernon’s attention moves back to your cunt, the thin piece of fabric from your shorts being the only thing in the way from touching you where it matters. if he knew any better, he would’ve thought you weren’t wearing panties for a reason. but the problem is, vernon isn’t thinking with his mind. his hard cock is making all his decisions for him. 

shifting the fabric aside, he is finally able to touch your bare pussy. your lips wet with arousal, slick and ready for him. he groans into your ear, peppering kisses along your neck as he rubs your clit. you moan against him, and he can practically feel you vibrating against his body. 

there’s a whine that leaves your lips as he recoils his fingers away from your hot cunt. 

shifting behind you, vernon frees his cock from his sweats. there’s a breath of relief between all the hot tension. finally. 

“you’re fucking soaking. tell me you don’t want this ‘cause i’m not stopping,” vernon groans, not even allowing you to answer back. 

he slips his dick between your slippery folds before forcing your thighs closed once again. the head of his length is bumping into your clit as vernon begins to hump into you sideways. 

“n-nonie, f-fuck, p-please,” you moan out between your pleas. 

“jesus christ, darling, tell me how good it feels,” he grunts into your ear once more. 

“your dick feels so good, a-ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, keep going please,” you beg him, synchronizing with his movements. 

vernon is drunk on lust. the sounds of your squelching pussy fill the room and the sound alone is dizzying. he picks up his pace, the coil in his abdomen starting to tighten. he wants to be inside you, he craves it. 

“keep those legs open for me baby,” vernon mumbles. 

your hand goes under your knee, propping your one thigh up. vernon shifts slightly, his pulsing cock in his palm as he lines himself up with your entrance. the tip slides against your wet pussy before his tip is shoved into your tight hole. 

you visibly tremble, and vernon thrusts up enough to bottom out inside you. the arm you're using to hold you up gives out, but vernon is quick to replace it with his own. slapping his hips into you, he holds your leg up to give him room to continue fucking you. 

“tightest pussy ever, holy fuck,” vernon practically drools. 

your walls are gummy, and so soft. the heat of your cunt engulfs the whole entirety of his cock. it motivates him to continue pistoning into you until his balls begin to squeeze. he knows he’s close but he doesn’t want it to end. as if he can go on for hours drowning into the heat of your tight pussy. 

“you fill me up so well,” you whimper, craning your neck to catch his lips. 

vernon kisses back, tongues tangling with one another as the two of you are practically eating each other faces off. you jolt with every thrust vernon gives you, the hand that was groping as your tit moves to grip your neck. fingers squeezing at the sides to cut off your airflow the slightest bit. 

the muffled moans that leave your lips are vernon’s breaking point. your pussy clenches around him the harder he squeezes your neck and it’s enough to send him over the edge. 

gasping into your mouth, vernon’s hips halt as he spurts his cum into your hole. the semen overflows and coats his cock with the mixture of your arousal and his own. 

“i’m sorry, you didn’t even cum yet,” vernon pants against your lips. 

“it’s fine. i’m not ready for this to be over yet anyways,” you breathe out, cheeks flushed. 

vernon looks into your eyes, the glint in your pupils unmissable. what the hell did you put in those chocolates?

❁ a/n: thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did hehe :3

[astraystayyh]

the premise : u apply lipgloss on felix because ofc he suits glossy lips except it takes an emotional turn???? because felix is perfect sorry. this is fluffyyyy and the sanest reaction to this man being ur bf (and these pics. these pics....)

“lixie, stay still,” you giggle, body nestled between felix’s legs. He's leaning against the bathroom counter, hands propped on the sleek ebony marble as you apply a shimmering lip gloss to his lips.

“but don't you wanna know what changbin said to me?”

“of course i wanna know what creative pickup line he used on you today. of course i do, baby,” you smile and he rolls his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, his tongue poking against his cheek before gliding in (fake) annoyance over his lips.

“but…” he muses, tilting his head to the side, his hands finding your waist once again (they've been away for two minutes too long).

“but when your mouth moves i can't technically apply lipgloss to it.”

“maybe you're just a bad make-up artist,” he teases, before quickly planting a kiss on your temple. “kidding baby. you're the very best at everything you do.”

“you're actually incapable of being mean,” you laugh heartily, your thumb swiping across his chiseled jaw.

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he pouts, his eyes widening slightly, golden light spilling into his pupils— it refracts into an arrow delving straight into your heart.

“you can't say this in the softest voice and expect me to agree.”

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he repeats, only this time his timber is many many octaves lower. his voice reverberates straight through your stomach, a deep melody orchestrating the untamed butterflies in your stomach.

“this is the equivalent of a kitten throwing a punch to me,” you pull his face closer, and he shakes his head, mouth shut tightly as you reapply the glitter infused gloss on his lips, going delicately over his cupid's bow. his eyes are boring onto you, yet you don't shy away from his gaze. it is a kind one— like a blanket knitted with love thrown over your body.

“done,” you whisper, hands trailing up to his hair, blonde silky locks akin to threads of sunlight. you think he must be favored by the stars— how they stored the sun inside every component of his being for him to keep safe.

“you have the prettiest lips,” your voice is suddenly hoarse, thumb grazing slightly over his lips, ones shaped like a heart— akin to the one freckle he has right underneath his eye.

it wasn't enough for him to have the kindest soul, no, love needed to be etched onto his skin too.

“felix,” you rasp out his name.

he catches your tears before you sense them falling, swiping his thumbs delicately on your cheek. “angel?”

“you're an idiot.”

“am i?” he brings you to his chest swiftly, your nose buried in the orange blossoms and sea notes of his skin— your home, the one you'd recognize in blindness, in despair, in safety, in love.

“i wanted to apply this lipgloss on you because shimmer would suit your angelic lips and then we'd make out. but you just had to be so beautiful and pure that it makes me wanna cry.”

“I'm sorry,” he says and you giggle, more tears spilling from your eyes.

“see, this is what i mean. why are you apologizing. this is so silly and you're so perfect and i can't believe you love me.”

“well i do,” he leans away, kissing your forehead tenderly. the sticky lip gloss lingers on your skin. “i love you so much, angel. i will only ever love you.”

“promise me?” you ask in a feat of vulnerability almost foreign to your being.

“i promise.”

you believe him.

“thank you. please don't put this lipgloss near anyone else or it'll make them cry too.”

“i think that's just you baby,” he grins, his thumb swiping over your thigh comfortingly, then, his nose brushing against your own. “kiss?”

you close your eyes, a sigh of relief, of longing escaping your body. “please.”

to be loved by felix— maybe you're the one favored by the stars after all.

[foone]

Something I'd really like to see, but it may just be only me:

An electronics repair video, like those youtubers who fix video game consoles and laptops, but... It's all props and the electronics are fictional.

Like, do it where you're wearing a Star Trek uniform and talk us through how you diagnose fixing a impulse drive. 3d print some components and make fictional diagnostic tools.

This might only appeal to electrical engineers who are also massive nerds, however.

Maybe I should just write it as a fic.

[pacificrimrefs]

Jaeger Battery

Source

[prokopetz]

Hello! You talk a lot about ttrpg mechanics, and I was wondering if you could help me out with something.

Very often, the only time I have available for playing is on Saturday, but I'm jewish so I can't write or use electronics during the session. Are there any rpgs that don't require any writing? And if not, what do you think would be a good way to modify a preexisting one?

I'm assuming you're looking for games where nobody involved needs to do any writing things down, so as not to run afoul of the whole "no asking other people to perform restricted activities for one's own benefit" thing, which leaves you with two basic options:

Very simple games with little or no persistent game-state information, such that it's feasible to keep it all in your head. This covers stuff like Lasers & Feelings (no mechanical game-state whatsoever, though you will need to do character creation ahead of time) or Honey Heist (each player has one number to keep track of, which can be handled without writing by sliding a token around on printed track prepared ahead of time, if you help remembering).

Games where the complexities of the persistent game-state are entirely represented using props and tokens. On the simpler end, you've got stuff like Dread, a survival-horror game where conflicts are resolved by making pulls from a Jenga tower, and there are no hit points or other resources beyond the tower itself – either the tower is up and your character is alive, or the tower is down and your character is dead. (The same caveats about character creation in advance that apply to Lasers & Feelings, above, apply here.) On the more complex side, you've got RPG/board game hybrids like Zoetrope or What We Possess, where each game comes in a box with a giant stack of cards and tokens and playing-boards and such, and the game-state is represented by shoving components around.

It's a pretty broad question, so if you have a specific genre or milieu in mind, I can try to chase down something suitable which fits that brief.

[neolithicsheep]

Ok so you're looking at the aftermath of Helene and you're thinking "shit, how would I keep my phone charged? What about my neighbors?" and you have some outdoor space and some cash. Your friendly formerly off grid sheep farmer is here to help.

You need this set up right here:

To that you will need to add:

Y connectors:

The 100aH (amp Hour) deep cycle battery of your choice - lead acid AGM will be cheaper, lithium (LiFePo) is more expensive but lasts much longer.

Finally, you need a small pure sine wave inverter like this one: https://a.co/d/70vRd79

Plug the panels into the Y connectors then into the single wire to run to the charge controller. They are now connected in parallel. Take them outside to a sunny spot and face them south and prop them up at about a 45 degree angle. This isn't perfect but it will be good enough.

Connect your battery and charge controller. Connect the panels to the charge controller. All of the places to do this are labeled and all you need is a Phillips screwdriver. I recommend doing it once in a non-disaster situation so you know you can do it but you'll be fine. Boom, you are getting electricity from the sun!

The inverter draws power even when it's not running so don't leave it hooked up when you're not using it. When someone needs to charge their phone, put those alligator clips on the matching color battery posts, turn the inverter on, and plug in the phone/radio. Voilà! A single 100aH battery is not going to run a bunch of things but it will help keep cell phones charged without using up the gas in your car.

The panels are weatherproof but everything else needs to be protected by the way so you'll need to set this up in a shed or garage or in the house. Lead acid batteries can produce hydrogen gas when being charged but just having one isn't a big risk.

FAQ:

Yes, you can permanently mount the panels to your roof if you own your home etc. They're designed for that!

It is true that places sell "solar generators" - those are a charge controller, battery, and an inverter in one box at a very high price point. When a component goes bad you will be unable to replace the component and must replace the entire $1000 box. They are also not upgradeable or expandable, this is.

You do not have to buy Renogy, I recommend them because they kept me in electricity for the years I was off grid.

You do not have to buy the kit, you can buy the components of it as and when you can afford them!

Remember to keep your battery on a trickle charger.

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (16/?)

Direct continuation of part 12 (having rendezvoused at the escape coordinates). Starscream holds a small, symbolic graduation ceremony for you.

Inspired by an Air Force tradition! I was poking around the internet and came across this - apparently new pilots "break their first wings" - a badge they receive upon graduation. They wear the second one but break the first one, keep one half and give the other half to someone special to them.

---

Your sensory nets are among the first components to flicker online.

Warmth, your processor groggily supplies. Safe, your spark whispers.

When was the last time you’d come online naturally, not to a nightmare or a blaring klaxon of an alarm?

Still half in recharge, you ex-vent, frame lax against the firm source of warmth beneath you.

Your pillow chuckles, low and rumbling against your audial.

“Ready to rejoin the world of the living yet?”

You stubbornly rub your faceplate against warm metal.

“No.”

When it comes again, Starscream’s voice is fond and amused as he idly traces patterns over your lax wings.

“Come now.”

Your optics flicker open to a crimson chassis, and you squint sleepily up to the sight of Starscream’s amused expression.

“How long has it been?”

“Oh, not long." He says wryly. "Two days?”

“Two days?!”

You roll off Starscream with a yelp - he lets you go from the circle of his arms, where he’d been cradling you loosely.

You check your internal chronometer - it really had been two days.

Starscream watches you lazily from where he’s sprawled on the ground, propped up on one elbow.

“How do you feel?”

You blink.

Only then do you think to check your systems. It seems that recharge has done you a world of good - close to optimum function, save for lower levels of fuel.

“…Huh.”

As you take in the absurdly smooth functioning of your frame, Starscream stretches with a groan, mechanisms whirring as he pushes himself upright, wings flaring to their full breadth.

“Fuel first.”

You choke down a few bites of raw energon and abruptly make a face - you’d forgotten how bad it tasted. Starscream smirks at you. Despite his previously feverish state, it seemed that he’d been awake enough to remember your hysterical attempts to force-feed him raw energon.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” He drawls, smirk widening as you scowl at him. As if bodily wrestling him to force spark-saving fuel into his intake had been fun.

You will not give in, so you stubbornly shove the rest of the chunk into your intake.

Big mistake.

Starscream’s instantly by your side, smacking you on the back even as he cackles over the sound of you ungracefully hacking up a glowing blue chunk of rock.

“I never said it wasn’t,” You finally rasp, sullen - the extent of your reluctant capitulation. A gooey, semi-melted wad of blue oozes in your servo, and you grimace before shoving it back into your intake. You are fugitives, after all. Waste not, want not. Starscream watches this with a mix of horror and fascination.

“You didn't have to - well. That was absolutely horrendous to watch.”

“Want me to describe in detail just how horrendous it was to consume?”

“I’ll pass,” He sniffs, wings shuddering in disgust. “If you are finished, however, we must discuss a way forward, even in the short term.”

You quickly sober up.

“If you recall, we agreed that returning to the Decepticons would no longer be an option. Does this still hold true?”

Even if your voice trembles, you speak without hesitation. “Yes.” You pause. “Is that the same for you?”

“It is,” Starscream says, looking grim, but something hardens in his optics, and he nods resolutely to himself.

“It has been approximately seven solar cycles that we’ve been here. So far, no Decepticons have come looking for us. This is promising, however, we must confront the fact that you are essentially on the run, and I am presumed to be offlined. It would be unwise to leave this hiding place at this point in time, which means no venturing outside, no exposing ourselves until we completely ascertain that the danger has passed.”

You nod, completely in agreement - but Starscream still notices the slight downwards flicker of your wings. He understands all too well that Seekers need to fly - an innate need embedded in your coding. Being underground is a special sort of hell for a seeker, whose natural habitat was the open skies. It won’t be easy for him, either, but if you are to survive, there are worse situations to be in.

Clearly aware of this, you say nothing. So, for a few weeks, the cave is where you stay. You’d given up checking your internal chronometer after a while, but you approximate that it's been about a quartex when you online to the sight of Starscream up and about, buzzing with unrestrained energy.

His optics glimmer as soon as he sees you're awake. “How do you feel about going outside today?”

Sleepiness forgotten, you scramble to your pedes. “Really?”

He doesn't fight the small smile at your endearing enthusiasm, your wings aflutter with excitement. To the trained optic, however, it’s clear that you carry your wings like they’re heavy, their movements slower than usual. You need to stretch your wings before the mechanisms lock up.

For the first time, you take in the topography of the coordinates Starscream had first directed you to. There’s literally nothing around for miles - you have no idea how on earth he found this area in the first place.

It’s perfect.

It takes a bit of warming up, but flying is incredible. Despite not being able to go beyond the parameters of the area for safety, it’s still amazing to feel the wind on your wings.

Starscream flanks you - you'd thought it was just a free flight, but unexpectedly, his voice crackled through your comms. "In five hundred meters, 16-point roll."

Training, already? You shrug. You wouldn't say no to more flying.

He says nothing when you execute it, except to issue another command. "One hundred meters, sharp left."

He puts you through your paces with another few moves - some you could do with your optics shuttered, others took some more concentration. But ultimately, nothing overtly challenging to you, not after so many vorns under his instruction - and nothing that gave away what this odd sequence of random maneuvers was.

"Vertical descent. Pull up and land." You steady your alt-mode before tipping downwards. You remember practicing this, over and over. It was a move that had been a thorn in your side for ages - of course, Starscream's keen optics had seized upon this. The result was unceasing drills until you could do it perfectly - but something about the move still inspired a twinge of anxiety in your circuits, even if you knew on a logical level that you no longer struggled with it. Still, you'd executed every move perfectly as of yet - you weren't about to fumble the last one. As you gain speed, you prepare to cut your thrusters, pull up - the lush green of the Terran earth spins dizzyingly near, and on pure instinct, your frame screams at you to pull up now -

You do, every part of your frame straining with effort - and an intoxicating wave of triumph sweeps through your frame as you pull your cockpit level with the earth, realizing you did it - coasting in perfect parallel with the flat ground before coming to a smooth stop.

Starscream lands in the same way, movements sharp and crisp, transforming as soon as he hits the ground.

"Transform; at ease."

You transform back into bot-mode, giddy with satisfaction, plates still warm and energon thrumming through your fuel lines. Grinning at Starscream, you take in his relaxed posture, servo on his hip and a deeply gratified expression on his faceplate.

As you look at each other, a crisp wind whistles its way towards you, dancing over the heat of your frames and chasing away the balmy heat of late summer. There's something different in the air - the winds of change heralding an end, but also a new beginning.

"Cadet," Starscream says, breaking the silence first.

He clears his vocaliser, folds his hands behind his back with an air of gravitas.

“Do you know what day it is?”

You blink.

Oh, scrap. Had you forgotten something important?

“…Your creation day...?”

Static fills the air as Starscream chokes. “What? No!”

You frown, wracking your processor. Late summer, slicing through balmy air in flight. Carried on the whistling winds, the change of seasons caressing your wings. The smell of high-grade rich in the air. Speeches, the sounds of cheering in your audials.

“…Academy graduation day.”

“Indeed,” Starscream says, gently.

He reaches into his subspace for a moment, producing a small item that glints with a flash in the noonday sun.

He twirls it in his digits for a moment, before turning to face you fully.

“On this day,” He begins in solemn Vosian, "We release to the skies a seeker, pride of Vos. On the wings of eternity we ascend."

You stare at him for a nanoklik, processor racing to understand just why those words seemed so achingly familiar. Then, it clicks.

The traditional speech given to graduates of the Vosian Air Academy.

Your trembling servo flies to your intake.

Vorns ago, it was with some sadness that you'd accepted that you'd never really graduate. Not for lack of skills, but you'd looked forward to that moment of accomplishment ever since you'd joined the Academy. Looking on the bright side, you supposed you couldn't complain, since you'd ended up with a far greater skillset than if you'd graduated normally. All the same... the fact that Starscream thought to do this for you was...

You sniffle.

Starscream abruptly freezes, optics wide.

"Why are you... Is this not meant to be a celebratory occasion?"

"Yes, yes, it is. Don't mind me, I'm just..." You laugh, scrubbing coolant off your faceplate.

"...Really, really happy."

Starscream's twitching wings slump with relief when he hears this - abruptly, he's striding over to you with a sigh, pulling your servos away from your face to thumb the smears of coolant away.

"Idiot," He mutters exasperatedly, but it's fond. "Didn't take you for a crier at graduation."

"I just thought that I would never graduate," You blubber.

It suddenly dawns on you that the flight sequence he made you do earlier was the final flight exam prior to graduation - maneuver for maneuver. The tears abruptly start again.

Starscream sighs, but his servos are gentle on your cheeks as he carefully swipes coolant away.

"Come now. No tears. Think of the graduation photos, hm?"

You laugh then, imagining how you'd absolutely have tried to corner him for photos if you'd graduated normally - and how he'd likely have griped about being overwhelmed with students wanting to say goodbye, yet posing for each photo anyway.

He's still holding the shiny object from his subspace.

You sniff, scrubbing away the last of your tears. "What's that?"

Starscream pauses, and glances at the Decepticon insignia on his chassis. He traces it absently, shuttering his optics for a klik.

"You know that seekers trained by the Academy used to wear the crest of Vos?"

The war had long erased all physical evidence of that - previous badges having been long replaced by Autobot and Decepticon insignias - but you remembered.

"Yes," You whisper. You'd dreamed of this before, the day that you'd be given your badge.

Starscream twirled the object between his digits for another moment before offering it to you.

"Here."

With shaking servos, you gingerly take the gleaming silver crest. Polished wings on either side, shiny as ever. Starscream had clearly kept it in good condition.

"This one is mine," Starscream says softly. "I..." His digits ghost absently over the Decepticon insignia again. "I kept it."

"A-are you sure?"

"Vorns too late," he murmurs, "but you deserve it more than anyone."

Delicately, reverently, you rub your thumb over the polished silver.

"I'm sure you know about the tradition," Starscream says suddenly.

You glance at him, at the smirk that curls his intake. The seniors had talked about the traditions, and you're pretty sure you know which one he's talking about.

"Breaking your first wings?"

"One and the same," Starscream drawls. Abruptly, he grimaces. "Though I suppose you've already had your wings quite literally broken."

"Maybe I'll have better luck than anyone, then," You joke. The phantom pains still bother you sometimes, as do the nightmares. But Starscream looks haunted as is every time you catch him staring at your new wings. There's no point dwelling on it - you have wings, you can fly. It's a lot more than you could have hoped for, given the circumstances.

Starscream's wings tense, but he forces them down with an ex-vent. "I'm sure," He says at last.

"In that case, I'll-?" You gesture at the crest in your servos, seeking his permission.

"Go ahead."

Deftly, you snap the crest in two neat halves. You know how the tradition goes. No one ever wears the first pair - it gets broken, you keep one half, and you give the other half to someone important to you.

Without hesitating, you offer half to Starscream.

On some level, he must have expected this. All the same, he finds himself staring at the wing in your outstretched servo, frozen by your decision.

"Are you sure?" He finally rasps, when he finds his voice.

"Come on," You say, lightheartedly. "Who else am I gonna give this to?"

You see his optics darken, presumably remembering the circumstances that led to your dire lack of a proper social circle. "Also," you quickly rush to add, before he can really spiral. "Who trained me? Who was always there for me through thick and thin?"

His intake opens, but you save him from having to say anything.

"You," You say fiercely. "So don't you refuse this now."

That spurs him into action. Wordlessly, Starscream's larger servo closes around your outstretched one.

"To the end," He murmurs.

You echo his words.

"To the end."

Previous / Next

[bloodbrown]

(x Reader) Headcanons - Maintaining and Repairing P

• Sitting him down in the P-Organ chair and opening him up is an intimate occurrence. Only those closest to him are allowed to handle him in such a vulnerable and delicate state. For more complex maintenance, he usually has to expose his chest or back.

• P basically has to coach you on how to properly maintain certain parts of his body, because he can't do all of it himself... Thankfully, he's picked up enough by watching Geppetto that he understands, in general, what needs to be done. You probably should borrow a tough pair of working gloves from Eugenie, though.

• Through the guidance of P and Eugenie, you essentially become an amateur mechanic so you can help your favorite boy stay healthy and in top fighting form. Geppetto, when he’s actually present in the Hotel and not being kidnapped somewhere, is absolutely not allowed to know about this. He would absolutely lose his mind knowing his greatest creation is being tinkered with by an amateur.

• Pinocchio prefers to come to you whenever he needs something minor done. When he needs cartridges or converters installed, he believes you will be the most careful with the cold, sharp components of his superficial mechanical insides. The warmth of your hands coming into contact with the metal inner workings of his body calms him. Your touch when fixing him up is much more attentive and warm than that of his father’s.

(In theory, P likely could install some parts such as amulets or cartridges by himself, but then he wouldn't get to feel your meticulous human hands inside of him, so...)

• Eugenie and Venigni typically handle P’s legion arm when it needs repairs or upgrades. Sometimes though, you’ll notice that the exterior of P’s metal arm is particularly scratched up or stained. After any repairs, P often brings his legion arm to you. You polish the exterior very nicely for him, and make sure the exposed gears and joints are shiny and clean. This tends to make his finger and wrist movements a bit more fluid, too. And while you do all this, he will hover there watching you. Armless, staring, and unmoving. His stare is affectionate, even if you can't tell.

• Post Rise of P, when he’s certainly doing less fighting, there are still times where Pinocchio needs a brief examination to make sure everything is running the way it should. It's not too unusual that he’ll occasionally need a few wires in his chest straightened out, or a valve in his heart tweaked.

• Immediately after the trauma of having his father attempt to rip his heart from his chest, Pinocchio is more guarded about being opened up. He might tense up during regular maintenance or try to avoid it entirely. He knows that he can trust his friends, and you, of course, but the scar that that event left on him hasn't healed.

• Something that helps P is being able to see exactly what someone is doing to him. You can prop up a mirror in front of you while you work so he can see what you're up to in there, and it's a great comfort to P. Be sure to flash him a reassuring smile every once in a while, too.

• After some maintenance, Pinocchio always wants to show you how grateful he is. Once you've closed him up and he's re-dressed, he'll plant a tiny kiss on your forehead or cheek as a show of love for keeping his mechanisms healthy.