“There are circles of power where no one is accountable to anyone,” Lois expresses, her frustrations increasing and with that, Clark instinctively reaches for her hand in a gesture filled with all the memories of those he has had to help because they were failed by the powers and systems that be.
Short stuff here is here — really quick one-sentence blurbs. As for short stories and longer works, they are filed under fanfic.
They had that rivalry to be the one who would impose order among the Decepticon ranks, Cybertron and the Universe yet, all they had to show for their efforts was chaos, personified by Starscream following Megatron’s footsteps.
Everyone thinks Bluestreak hides things behind his words but Ironhide thinks differently — it’s what Bluestreak doesn’t talk about that makes it so obvious.
Weather, work, due payments, simple pleasures — small talk is one of those skills that should be obvious yet seemingly forever eludes Mirage.
As the Second Golden Age dawns before him a star shines in the distance bringing waves of sorrow and nostalgia as the remnants of the dusk of the last Golden Age bring back memories of his now fallen comrades.
There was only one straw left in the kitchen and Clark and Lois were in staredown over it — both with a steely resolve as strong as the other’s — neither willing to lose this small ground from which larger ground would be gained and both unaware of the unopened box full of straws in the storage room behind the garage.
Wounded, grounded, humiliated, and surrounded by the enemy, Starscream cries out a humble, “Optimus Prime…” and it’s the regret in his voice that Bumblebee can read, like an open book, Starscream’s awe and reverence and fascination for the Autobot leader.
With his thunderous sonicboom announcing his cutting of the skies, Starscream flies loud and proud, unaware of the yellow bug below — bazooka poised and aimed — reading him like an open book.
As the music vibrated through his body, he could feel growing in his body an awe greater than the awesome Megatron.
Mimicking the boxer’s sparring with the punching bag, Bumblebee had to appreciate the human desire to meld form with function — not only was there an efficiency to the way the athlete move but there was also grace and fluidity that made the motions soothingly easy on the blue optics — and shape is carried effortlessly and beautifully through time and space.
“Mary, this is all for Mary,” he likes to tell himself not realizing that his feelings of vengeance and fear and insecurity were slowly becoming a force of hate that would soon overwhelm his care for his sons and his love for his late, beloved wife.
Plans vs. improvisation, logic vs. instinct — with new ways of sensing and thinking and processing the world around them, they set out to explore Earth together.
If only fighting evil could be mundane so that shopping for clothes and crushing over boys wouldn’t seem so irrelevant.