Boredom alert! Come play with me!

[keelywolfe]

I'm bored. Why is everything so boring today? Work has been indescribably busy, kids started school and all the mess that goes with that, and last night was the first night in a week I had more than 5 hours of sleep, so naturally I slept too much and now I am still tired. Ooh, but I just realized that the ten anniversary of my Livejournal is this month. Holy cow, where does the time go?

But I am still bored.

So let's play a game or do a meme or something! Entertain me! Let's do one of those meme's where you post a short section from 5 stories. Don't care if your actively working on them or not, just give me a funny or angsty or smutty little tidbit to give me joy! Give me fragments from the stories you've abandoned, give me your next big hit! Any fandom, any pairing, just hit it!

To be fair, I'll play too:



1. Optimus/Ratchet

Ratchet felt his own anger blossom to life and as always, it quickly overrode his sense, "Would you rather I'd left them for dead?" he snapped out. "I would so hate to inconvenience you!"

"You—" Optimus turned away, a visible tremor running through him. He drew in a long draft of cool air, vented it back out. "Ratchet," he said tightly, "I am aware that our current attachment to each other is disturbing to you. Be that as it may, I would like to think I am allowed to feel something other than simply inconvenienced when I find you injured."

His anger cooled quickly at that and Ratchet smiled, a little. "Point taken."

To his surprised, Optimus quickly turned to the window, gazing outside with intense scrutiny. After a moment, curiosity got the best of him and Ratchet finally asked, "What are you looking at?"

"I was expecting a meteor shower or perhaps a rain of frogs," Optimus answered promptly. "You agreed with me so quickly, the only logical conclusion was a possible apocalypse."

"Oh, very amusing," Ratchet scowled. "Don't get used to it."

Optimus straightened. "I shall flag it in my memory files," he promised.


2. Wyatt/Glitch (Tin Man)

It was still perception, his eyes trying to fit Glitch into what they had seen before. Murder, perhaps, a convict. Criminal.

It was only later that he realized he should have known. He'd seen his fair share of headcases before, too many, and no punishment could change the raw materials it began with. Cruel humans rendered stupid stayed cruel, no sweet innocence in their dull piggish eyes.

It was a testament to how brilliant Glitch must have been before. Forgetful but not stupid, not completely, synapses coming to the severed ends of a lost mind having to find new paths. Memories jumbled, a puzzle with broken pieces but sometimes they still fit, sometimes.

Flicker.

Perception. His eyes dulled for just a moment. Glitch blinked up at Wyatt, his mouth forming a small sound, "Oh." Then Glitch tipped his head up and kissed him.

Soft, cool mouth, almost chaste against his own until Glitch parted his lips, let his tongue press into Wyatt's. A little passive but not rejecting and he let it end on its own.Something he was perfectly capable of doing, Caine admitted wryly. A little forgetful but hardly stupid. Not a child, no, not at all, just a little--

"Lost," Wyatt murmured, his lips brushing Glitch's.


3. Clark and Bruce talking. Clark/Lex

"How can I go back to him and...just pretend everything is fine, that I'm the husband he's had for years and…how can I do that?" Clark burst out.

"I'm not sure you have a choice," Bruce said thoughtfully. He rested his chin on one gloved hand. Minus any judicious use of x-ray vision, his eyes were shielded; not that it mattered. Bruce never showed any true emotions in his eyes, anyway.

"What?" Clark sputtered. "You want me to...what happens when I leave here and go back to my universe?"

"We don't know if this even is an alternate universe and if that's the case, your world is not something we can send you back to." Bruce said bluntly. "From what you've described, a being of almost infinite power has created a place for you to learn some sort of lesson. You told me that Mxyztplk (the name rolled off Bruce's tongue in a way that Clark could only envy) sent you here to teach you something. Resisting the learning isn't going to help you. If you do, there's a chance you could be stuck here for years."

"So what you're saying is--

Bruce turned back to his monitors, effectively dismissing him. "Go home and apologize to your husband."

"But I can't just--" Clark gestured frantically, trying to indicate without saying the myriad of things that he couldn't possibly do to Lex

"I doubt you'll have to concern yourself with it tonight or possibly for the next week. There's a fair chance you'll be sleeping on the sofa."

Clark stared. Had Bruce just made a joke? Suddenly, this universe seemed a great deal more disturbing.


4. Zuko/Sokka (Avatar)

"Why do they keep it up with me, anyway?"

"Hmm, let me see," Zuko paused in his writing. "You're young, strong, attractive, and a war hero. I can certainly see how that wouldn't seem appealing. Frankly, Sokka, the question should be why wouldn't someone want you."

Sokka ignored the little frisson of heat those words sent through him. "I don't care! I just want you to make them stop it!"

Let me see if I understand," Zuko said slowly. "You want me to use my power and position to make people stop hitting on you."

"Yes!"

Long silence and Sokka blew out an impatient breath. How difficult could this be?

"All right," Zuko said finally. Finally! "I'll see what I can do."


5. Sam/Bumblebee with a side order of Optimus

"You find Optimus's optical transmission attractive?"

It took Sam half a minute to even process that, and when he did, he almost swallowed his gum. "No! Why do you--"

Bumblebee paused long enough to glance at him. "Sam, I regulate your systems constantly. When you first saw Optimus this morning, your heart rate soared and your pheromone level increased exponentially." He propped his chin on his hand thoughtfully. "And according to your heart rate at the moment, you totally just lied to me."

Okay, of course he would have a boyfriend who also acted as a walking lie detector.

He let out a breath slowly. How to explain this one with Bumblebee sitting there all innocent, wide green eyes, waiting for his answer. It was possible that the standard 'humans are weird' ploy might work. "Look, it doesn't mean anything--"

"If you find him appealing, you should ask him to join us sometime." Calmly, like he was suggesting having a new paint job done over the weekend.

That time he did swallow his gum, gagging a little before he managed, "You...that is so not funny."

Bumblebee glanced back down to his book. "I wasn't trying to be funny. He may be interested. I don't believe Optimus has attempted to mate with any of the terrestrial entities on this planet."

Sam was fairly sure if Bumblebee kept talking, his eardrums were going to rupture. "Was that even English? The only other language I know is the Spanish I learned in school and that barely lets me find the bathroom."

Bumblebee actually set the book aside, lips pursed as he considered. "He hasn't gotten it on with any of the dudes around here so he might let you hit it," he translated.


C'mon, let me see a few of yours, just a snack? If you do, post it in the comments so I can see!

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[aniay.livejournal.com]

I LOVE the last one especialy ;P

1 g1 - Optimus/Bee

It took Optimus a moment to steel himself. With optics off he set his fear aside. He had been created to serve his people, to give them what they needed.

He pulled on every possible power in his procesor, engadged commanding subroutines, and some of his battlefield macros, vocalizer turned into lowest setting, strength to half...

Optimus leaned forward, hand once again taking Bee's face and making him stare into his own optics.

"Who am i?" simple question to start with.

"Optimus Prime."

"Yes, in here I'm your Prime, and you will remember it or be punished, is that understood?"

"Yes, my Prime"


2 g1 - Jazz/??

The mech had been waiting for him casualy propped on the doorframe.

“Missed me so much you couldn’t wait till tomorow?

“Your dirty mouth? ALWAYS.” Jazz didn’t wait for reply as he pushed the mech to the nearest wall and mashed their lip-plates together. “Can properly frag you now.”

“First you need me to submitt to you, Sir. Instead I’ll frag you” The mech snarled but the anger in his voice had the playfull note that always made Jazz growl.

He pushed his lover to the berth and not caring about his comfort gathered his wrist up his head and grinded their pelvic platings together both armors sparking.

“No chance, too long since i could Frag you. You mind?” Jazz Purred but the question even if sounding half seriously was a constant in any casual frag he could have indulged in.

“Not really.”

3 G1 - Optimus/everyone

Jazz looked up at the distraction. What he had seen made him reset his visor, twice...

//Prowler?//

//Yes, Jazz? Though I'd apreciate you not inter...//

//Shut up for once and look up from your precious data-pad.// After a really short pause he added //And try not to glitch too hard, please.//

Jazz noticed instantly when Prowl looked up from his documents because of the heavy smell of burned circuits...

Great...//Prowl?//

//I'm... I think I am fine... merely baffled// His voice was weak and staticky... but he was talking which was good... //unless it's a new type of glitch that makes me see naked Prime...//

//We have to tell him// “Prime, you...” Jazz groaned as Prowl elbowed him

//Don’t you dare... what if.... He’s PRIME!// Jazz rolled his optics... Prowl looked and sounded terrified of the idea that they could even mention it.

“...you should wear your... mask open more often.”
4 TFP - Ratchet/Optimus

Ratchet let his field free to flow and sing with every emotion he felt, his hands mapped Optimus’s frame. From the delicious neck cables that pinched made him arch with lips open and vocalizer glitching loudly. Or the strong red arms that quivered helplessly when he dug his fingers under their armor and caressed its underside. Or the hands that when kissed caused the whole body to squirm under him.

Oh how he enjoyed the young mech coming apart at his hands. The quiet, shy noises, the body so responsive to every caress, every flicker of field.

He leaned forward and kissed Optimus’ hip, the young Prime shying away from the touch, closing his legs instinctively.

Ratchet’s field flared with arousal, unbidden, so innocent, so deliciously pure.

5 TFP - Wheeljack, Bulkhead

They cut through the swarms of Cons. Bulkhead yelling and Wheeljack silent in his dance of destruction. Bulkhead couldn’t help but watch when he caught sight of a high jump with ‘Jack. landing on some ‘Con's face.

The Eradicons swarmed around, but one spin with his sword outstretched prooved to be enough for the other fighter.

Bulkhead pushed forward, blaster heated with constant firing. There it was, the armory drone, ‘Cons were coming back to it constantly.

“I can see it!”

“Good, try to look for ours!” Wheeljack cut one of the holo’s head with precise movement.

Bulkhead slowed down his movements, still fighting, killing off the ‘Cons, but slower, deliberately looking for someone beside the Eradicons.

“Can't see him.”

“Hope we didn't kill him already, let me... Slagging con...” Well pointed shot to the head got rid of another ‘Con that attacked Wheeljack.

ETA: Posted one fragment twice :D

[xianghua.livejournal.com]

(From the SG!First Aid thing I'm working on- I don't think this bit is going in, but it's all I've written so far)

"Glory to the empire," The jet said. First Aid smiled, delighted.

"Yes, just like that," He replied. "How do you feel? Happy? I hope you feel happy. I re-wrote that section of code twelve times."

The Decepticon- former Decepticon- twisted his head. "Optimus Prime is our leader." He said.

"Yes, but are you happy about that?" First Aid persisted. "I want you to be happy. I'm happy." He laughed brightly.

[shusu.livejournal.com]

I am completely bored as well, except it's the bored where I have millions of things to do and no will to do it? So here goes.

These are almost all gift-fics, by the way, so this is a super sneak preview. Shhhh.

1. Celena/Gaddes (Escaflowne)
just after discussing Celena's propensity of lying to conceal; Gaddes teaches her a shell-flip (shell game)

"May I try?" She went around to the other side of the table. Gaddes rolled the marble under a glass.

They bent their heads together, Gaddes moving her hands just so, and Celena keeping the rhythm steady. Light caught on the glasses as they spun around the table. A few low laughs, and a few dropped marbles, and Celena began to learn the feel of it, the simple glide of deception.

"Alright, now here's the tricky part," said Gaddes softly. "Look up at me. No, don't stop. Keep on turning 'em."

She raised her eyes, and met his steady gaze. A small smile touched his lips.

Gaddes murmured, "The flip's about distraction. So if you're the one movin' the marble around, you can't get distracted. By anything."

Celena could feel a warm flush over her face. Nevertheless she kept her hands moving.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

"You gotta keep the mark occupied," Gaddes said. "Now, start talkin'."

"About what?" said Celena.

Gaddes's smile widened. "Tell me what you learned today."

"You're awful," Celena whispered. But her hands moved as though they had a mind of their own, and she stared into his eyes and answered.


2. Jet/Faye (Cowboy Bebop)
The hallway rotates, throwing their faces into illumination every few seconds. She's so wet it's almost embarrassing; but she's got to admit Jet knows what he's doing. Not one piece of clothing off and–

No clothes coming off? What's the hold up? What's taking so long? And then it dawns on her that Jet is holding back, like he's really this bull in a highbrow pawn shop and that's just a sausage in his pants. If her hands weren't pinned, she'd slap her forehead.

He pulls away just that much, and says with an effort, "If you wanna say no, you'd better–"

Faye finally wriggles free and slaps him on the shoulder.

"Of course I do, you idiot! Oh... fuck–"


3. Pirates of the Caribbean
She is securing the rigging as the cockeyed lights of Tortuga fall away. She pulls tight. Her tunic smells of dry powder and rum. Though her throat goes dry, she knows the course ahead is preferable to birthing a child in a pig sty.

Romantic as that sounds.

Oh, the sway of the sea can lull a heart to its song, that she knows. But with Calypso's whims unleashed on wind and tide, their precious treasure will not be safe on the open ocean.

Nor will their child.

Later, she thinks: a moment of weakness is inevitable. The chest is cradled under her arm, becoming warm at her side. She imagines the flutter of hearts, sounding so close together and yet so far. The sea rocks her hammock, and she falls asleep, wrapped in dreams.


4. Neopets
The voice continued to rumble, like thunder. "Begone, commoner! Your aid is no longer required. I will deliver him to the ground."

Instinctively Hanso grabbed for a handhold, and got a fistful of mane. "Not too quickly to the ground, I hope."

"Well, Thief Hanso. That Eyrie thinks you're a knight."

Mane. That meant... Uni. He looked normal, but the blue coat seemed to waver, and that scent was unforgettable. "Nightsteed?"

"I am not painted Halloween, if that is what you are implying." So that was the smell: the faint ash-choked mist of a very, very old curse.


5. multiples, Iron Man

"Tony. You did check her qualifications?"

"–and you know what they say about a booty that don't stop, of course, of course I memorized her qualifications. Extensively." There's a pause, and Pepper knows he's opening his arms, disarming, every bit a cad except for that tell-tale softening around his mouth. "She is good. Really, really good. It's been, what, six months, and I don't know how I ever–"

Pepper has a fresh drink, the actual development estimates, and her composure. "Eleven months," she corrects. Her heels click across the floor.

"–without her. Yes. That long? That short? Fuselage modifications, yeah, gonna be July. I'd do it in my garage but we'd never get it out, oh, Pepper, make a note that we need a retractable roof."

[ksalterego.livejournal.com]

1. Kirk is talking to Admiral Komack on the bridge; Kirk's just been told he has to do basically a tv talk show interview:

"Kirk. Jenna is looking forward to interviewing you."

Kirk squinted a little and said cautiously, "Jenna?"

"The show host."

Kirk squirmed in his chair a little. "That wouldn't be Jenna Lane, by any chance?"

"Yes. I take it you've heard of her?"

Uhura snorted, then quickly turned it into a delicate cough.

Kirk ignored her shenanigans in favor of glaring at the Admiral.

"Something of the sort," he snapped. "Listen, that bitch- 'scuse me, that chick is as nutty as a fruitcake."

Komack raised his eyebrows again. "Not if it's my Great Aunt Mildred's fruitcake. No nuts in that cake."

"I'm sorry sir, but I hold my standards to Doctor McCoy's Great Grandmother Hattie's fruitcake, and I have to say her fruitcake has more nuts than even I know what to do with."

Komack blinked. Kirk blinked back, realized what he'd just said, and jumped back to the topic at hand.

　

2. K/S, more or less; drabble, nothing else to this, seems kinda complete as is:

"You suck."

"Excuse me?"

"I hate you."

"That is a lie."

"You-"

"Perhaps you would do me the pleasure of explaining the cause of your ire instead of insulting me."

"Fine. How come we can both run the same fucking obstacle course and you end up looking like you did when you started while I look like I just got my ass wiped by a pack of Klingons?"

"Because you did?"

"I did not!"

"How would you describe what they did?"

"I- that- they- you suck!"

[tainry.livejournal.com]

1 - Optimus snark! YES!!!
3 - Flaily Clark is fun. ;D
4 - ROFFLE! Oh, Sokka.
5 - Freaking Sam out is So Much Fun!!!

1 - G1
“Aha! Thought I’d find you still in here, Tracks.”

“It was a long race,” Tracks said. “A long soak feels good. How are Wheeljack and the others?”

“Ratchet’s still pounding the dents out, but he says they’ll be fine in a few days.” Bumblebee waded into the hot oil until he was up to his neck. It felt wonderful.

“I’m glad.”

They soaked in companionable silence for a while, both of them fending off recharge. Something niggled at Bee’s processor, though.

“Why do you pretend to be so vain and shallow?”

“What makes you think I’m pretending?” Tracks asked amiably, his denta very white in his dark face. “There are few things more important than personal hygiene.”

“I believed that act at first.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Till I got to know you better. You’re smart, and you really care about people, not just about what they think of your finish.” Speaking of, Bee could see a grubby spot on Tracks’ helm. He waded over and cupping oil in his hand, rubbed it away. Tracks rolled toward him abruptly and put his arms around him, holding Bee tight against his chest plates.

"You scared me half to deactivation,” Tracks whispered. “My laser core flickered while you were falling."

"Good thing those cedars were there," Bee laughed, returning the hug. Tracks, Bee knew, was much lighter built than he looked; he would have been badly damaged by that same fall. "You're warm." For a moment Bee worried that something was wrong with Tracks, that he’d been damaged in the battle with Devastator and hadn’t told Ratchet. He tilted his head up to meet Tracks’ optics. Tracks moved his head down, his lip components almost touching Bee’s.

Oh. He was that kind of warm. Bee grinned.


2 - Bayverse
Now! cried Vector Prime, appearing suddenly behind Jazz and Prowl, curling his arms around their waists and drawing them tight against his body. By your love we forge the impossible! All three opened their chests – spark chambers, optics, mouths open wide and Prowl sang a vast chord across the gamma frequencies of love and the door held open for just long enough for a last, unshakeable link to snap into place between them and the twins beyond. The gate closed with a silent shock everyone felt.

“It’s still there,” Cerebros said. “I can still feel it, the Allspark!”

Everyone turned to Vector Prime, who held the slack bodies of Jazz and Prowl, their helms resting on his shoulders beneath his chin, his engines purring, labored, vapor wisping from all three of their now-closed chests, but sated, satisfied; and as Vector looked up at the assembled robots he beamed with such love the shock of the closing gate was erased.

So much length fail...

[(Anonymous)]

:D Nothing like random people posting...
but here is what my writing partner and I have been working on. Mostly bits an pieces of the chapters I'm working on. I rarely write things in order.

1. Jazz/Prowl
“Shhhh....” Jazz admonished, glaring at the rest of the occupants in the room. “I’m not here. Don’t tell Prowl I’m here.” Jazz felt exhausted in truth. He had been running for three human hours. When he got a hold of whoever spiked the energon he was going to string them up. He didn’t know why anyone would think it would be funny to spike the energon supply with high-grade. Jazz didn’t find it funny at all. Prowler certainly didn’t need to drink High-grade. There was a reason he had only had it twice in all the vorns he and Jazz had been together, after all. Each time he had he ended up sparking.

Ratchet frowned, finding Jazz’s behavior more than a little peculiar. Although, it became all too clear when Prowl came into the room. He had known enough Praxians in his time to know that look. Prowl was stalking. No, sauntering would be a better word. His pedes were hitting the floor in a deliberately provocative way that Ratchet had seen in human females during that television show that Sam had had on not that long ago. Victoria Secret’s Angel Collection, if his processor was recalling it correctly. Pede to the floor, deliberate hip sway. Opposite pede to the floor, opposite deliberate hip sway. Prowl’s optics swept the room, a coy smirk on his lips. There was quite a bit of power in that much sensuality and Ratchet felt nothing but bad for the mech who found themselves on the receiving end.

He took a step back, “Hide, William, please...step away from the television. It would be safer over here.”

Will frowned, not liking Ratchet’s tone, but he obeyed after a moment’s thought, easing away from Jazz’s hiding place.

“Oh, Jazz, darling. I know you are in here. Come out, come out where-ever you are.” Prowl said in a sing-song tone.

Jazz shivered at the sound of Prowl’s voice, his fans kicking on high.

“Found you.” Prowl suddenly growled, his voice losing all its playfulness.


2. Optimus/Ratchet. Sunstreaker.

“You should calm down,” Optimus said, “I do not think becoming upset will help you with matters.”

“Can’t you just sedated them?” Sunstreaker asked in a pleading tone. “Or throw them both in the brig and let them ‘face each other until they come out of this?”

“I thought you said you wanted a sparkling,” Ratchet sneered. He’d had an audial full from both Prowl and Jazz about “keeping those slagging twins in check” because their precious Bluestreak wasn’t old enough for sparklings. A little bit funny to hear, all things considered, and it had taken his considerable self control not to point that out..

“Face. Face. Face.” Ariella giggled, quite pleased with herself.

“Oh look, she learned a new word,” Optimus muttered darkly. “Thank you, Sunstreaker.”

“I did. But not like this.” Sunny looked up as someone began to pound on the door. The first set of fists was joined by a second. And, judging by the sounds, a few kicks were being thrown in for good measure.

His back was to Ratchet and suddenly he felt a prick in one of the lines in his neck, and then it burned for a moment. “Sedatives it is.”

“I didn’t mean me,” Sunny mumbled as Ratchet propelled him through the door, opening it only long enough to push Sunstreaker outside and into the waiting arms of his mates.

“Thank you, ‘genitor.”

“Yes, our sincere thanks, Ratchet.”

“You’re welcome, boys. Have fun and stay clear of Jazz and Prowl. Praxians in heat tend to be territorial and react badly to other heated Praxians.” The door shut with a click and Ratchet looked clearly amused.

“Ratchet.” Optimus began.

“What? You said all sparks were precious, didn’t you? We are a dying race, we all need to have sparks? Didn’t you say that?” Ratchet was the picture of owl eyed innocence.

[boreal-forest.livejournal.com]

*blushes*

...is original work okay too? Or really unusual pairings? In that case, I do have stuff to post, but otherwise, aah...

*blushes some more*

[nkfloofiepoof]

*peeks in* I'm a new lurker brought in from the kink meme and sticking around for your TFP Prime/Ratchet stories. Just haven't friended yet because I didn't want to seem like some random creeper who adds people out of the blue xX

_{I'm also a sucker for bandwagons/memes like these *baaaaa*}

--

1. G1 AU - Optimus/Starscream

"Open your chest," he all but ordered me. Nervousness crept its way back into my systems, but I reluctantly did as I was told. I was not so cowardly as to back down now just because I was nervous. I wasn't some skittish femme afraid of trying anything new.

At my silent command, my cockpit split vertically down the middle and slid open with little protest from the rarely used gears. Opening it that way instead of its usual upward sway from my nosecone was the best way to get that deeply inside my systems; all of the annoying instruments and other cosmetic innards of my alt mode were moved aside as well to hide in specially made cavities in my chassis. The left side didn't have the room it used to, so part of it ended up jutting out of my torn side, but I ignored that and instead, at his prompting, proceeded to take down all of my other defenses.

With each panel I moved aside, I grew more and more nervous, feeling bare in a way I had not felt since a time before I had acquired my very first alt mode. Thick, armored plates and clamps parted or moved at my command. After the fourth, I knew I was completely exposed. I couldn't see it myself, but I knew my spark chamber was bare now - I could feel the stagnant air of the cavern touch it, and I didn't like it one micron. The protective plates spasmed as I debated closing them again and just forgetting this whole idea.

"Just relax." His voice was little more than a murmur as he tried to calm me, and his left hand resumed tracing up and down my back while his right moved around from my back and trailed down from my shoulder and along the edge of my retracted cockpit.

2. G1-ish AU - Jazz and Orion Pax, pretty much gen

Jazz lifted his head when he heard approaching steps and frowned upon seeing one of the other investigators approaching, a glowing set of cuffs in hand to take Orion to the station. There was no sense in arguing - Jazz only worked as an investigator part-time and only held the rank he did because of his performance record during the war. He could get the full story out of Orion at the station.

The soft voice of the mech sitting next to him jarred him, and Jazz quickly turned his attention back to Orion who had not looked up from his hands. He started to ask Orion to repeat himself when the weak, shocky voice filled his audios again.

"I didn't do it."

Frowning, Jazz gently rested his claws on Orion's shoulder as he replied, "I know 'ya didn't. And I'm gonna find out who did."

3. G1 - Complete and total gen crack

Thundercracker stopped every few trees and lifted his snout high into the air to let the wind carry their surroundings' scents to him in the hopes that it would tell him of the location of their other comrades the way it had led him and Skywarp to the Constructicons and Reflector, and after nearly two breems of weaving in and out of the trees, he was rewarded with a scent he did not recognize yet still seemed familiar, and following it led them to a small clearing just large enough for Long Haul to fit without scraping his massive antlers against the trees.

In the center of the clearing lay a black stag like Skywarp, but his uniform black was broken by blaze of white on his throat, and his white antlers bore eight points each to Skywarp's six and Thundercracker's own seven, and that alone was enough to tell Thundercracker that he was in the presence of one higher ranking than himself. Under the black stag's watchful gaze were two fawns smaller than Reflector head butting one another, one a deep, rust red and the other ashen grey. Tucked against the stag's side was a black bobcat, and perched on his antlers were two ravens and a sleeping bat hiding in its own wings.

There was no need to identify Soundwave.

--

Darn you, character limit!

[darthneko.livejournal.com]

Eeee! Oh, you'd better be working on those! They sound fabulous! (BEE. And Optimus! Lol!) That was exactly what I needed to read tonight. Heee!

Let's see...

1. Ironhide/Optimus/Ratchet OT3

Ironhide huffed a low rumble of laughter. "Sounds like someone's ready for the next round," he drawled, fingers dipping underneath Optimus' exoplates to slide across the sensor net and deeper, brushing the endomass beneath.

Optimus' voice was still static heavy, crackling. "I -- ah!" The deep tone sank impossibly lower into a growl before spiraling up again as Ratchet slid his fingers back home into the other mech's soaked valve, steady strokes activating sensor nodes with an expert touch. Shaking, Prime pushed into the touch, his field swelling hot with incipient charge. ::Please...:: The word was ragged, even over the com, underscored with desperation and saturated through with layer upon layer of frantic need. ::Pleasepleaseplease...::

"Pit," Ironhide breathed heavily, biting back a groan. "I was joking."


2. Ratchet with a side of Optimus

Overload came in a weak, bitter swell that left his sensors aching with a dull discontent but his systems didn’t care and Ratchet gasped, choking on static through the surge. It was only a belated nanoklik later that he realized the external sound hadn’t been his own and had been coupled with the hiss of the door. It was a particular type of self loathing masochism that prompted him to raise his head and meet the startled optics of their Prime where the larger mech stood, frozen, in the open door of the medbay.

Neither of them did anything for a beat until Ratchet straightened with a sharp, angry ventilation and reached for a rag to wipe the lubricant from his fingers. Prime’s optics followed the movement with a sort of horrified fascination that made Ratchet scowl. “That,” he announced, “was exactly what it looked like, so you can stop gaping like a stunned glitchmouse and let the slagging door close.”


3. Unquiet officer meetings on the Ark

Jazz shrugged. "There's a lot of worry about Ratchet. Wonderin' what's gonna happen in Medbay if he's down."

"It's a valid concern," Red Alert sighed, flicking a data pad on to scroll through it. "We're going to have to pull from the Science division to supplement the medical staff and Hoist is going to need to be promoted to Chief Medical Officer..."

Ironhide's fist met the tabletop with a harsh, plate vibrating clang. "Acting," he ground out, meeting Red Alert's startled optics with his own glare. "Ah'm pretty sure you meant acting CMO, Red, 'less you're already votin' to strip a mech in crisis of his rank and stasis lock 'im..."

Red Alert's back struts went stiff, the Security Director's mouth pressed thin in irritation. "That remains to be seen. I only meant..."

“’Remains ta be seen’ my aft!” Ironhide snarled.



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