Fiddling with the cigarette behind his ear and thinking about lighting it, Dirk lowered his feet from his desk when his buzzer went off. Clicking the answering machine, he drawled a slow, “Yes?” toward his secretary.
“The band is here.”
A sigh. And then, “Fine. Send them in.” He let his finger off the button and straightened his tie. “Ungrateful brats showing up half an hour late. Do they know how hard it is to make a record with my company?” Fiddling with the glowing crystal around his neck, Dirk blew smoke rings out of his mouth to pass the time until finally a knock came at his door.
Waving away the smoke, Dirk stood and beckoned for them to enter. The three of them entered timidly, each carrying the instrument of their choice. Crossing his arms, Dirk raised an eyebrow. “So like-”
“You three were half an hour late. Now a good friend of mine promised that you would make th
You sat on Prussian blue carpet in the living room Beilschmidt household. You petted the golden head of Aster, who lay next to you on the carpet, panting and sticking his tongue out. You fanned yourself with your other hands. Gilbert lay spread out on the couch, his white Scorpions band T-shirt lay on the ground. This is one of the moments you wish you were a guy, taking your shirt off with no problem of showing your breasts.
The curtains are closed, not letting a single ray of warm sunlight go through the glass into the room. From the kitchen you heard one of the two other dogs drink water.
“I hate heat waves,” you mutter, whipping your brow with the back of your hand. “Don’t you too, Aster?”
The dog’s ears lit up from hearing his name and let out a low groan in agreement.
“Ich hasse den Sommer,” you heard Gilbert mumble to himself.
You turn your attention from the golden retriever, to the w
You were in your room, in your cool, air conditioned house. You were on your bed, wearing a pair of (f/c) shorts and your favorite tank top. You were currently curled up on your bed, hugging your pillow against your face. Your best friend, Arthur Kirkland, gentleman, Briton, bad cook, was in your room with you, sitting on the desk chair next to your desk and trying to comfort you.
Because not only had this been a boring vacation so far, with you being in your house almost twenty-four-seven, and all your friends (even Arthur for a bit) going to various places (half of them went out of the country, for the love of cornflakes!), but you had made a mistake. A fatal mistake. You had watched a romantic movie marathon.
You had a difficult time doing almost anything with guys, but you were a romantic at heart. You wanted to be swept off your feet one day by a handsome man.
And for quite some time now, this ha
You looked up from your phone with your (e/c) eyes, seeing your best friend Alfred F. Jones barge into your room. His light brown hair was slightly messy, an odd little curl standing straight off his head like usual. He was grinning like a maniac, his deep blue eyes sparkling. He wore a blue shirt and brown shorts, a bit sweaty from the heat outside. His glasses kept sliding down his nose slightly, showing just how much he was sweating. He had just slammed your door into your wall, the doorknob going into the hole already in the wall from years of him doing just that. You were used to this, though, so you just looked back to you phone. "I dunno, Al. Why didn't you just text me?"
"Because, (Name), I have a surprise! You said you've been bored, right!?"
You glanced up to see the grin still on Al's face. You immediantly got a bit suspicious. "... yeah, I did. So?"
"So, I have a surprise!" he repeated, plopping down beside you on your bed. He took his
"Heatwave!" he cried in fear.
The little orange and white bot rushed to his friend's side and began pushing the big piece of metal off. Heatwave groaned and ground his teeth, looking at the scrapes on his leg. Little droplets of Energon popped out, causing Blades to gasp in shock. He hurriedly helped his friend up and caught him when he fell.
"Scrap!" Heatwave growled. "My leg is useless; Blades, get out of here!"
"No!" he screamed and slid under Heatwave's shoulder. "Come on, hop!"
The two went as fast as possible; they caught up with Chase a Boulder and reached the end of the building. Chase and Boulder were staring blankly at a pod-like device against a wall. Blades was confused.
"What's wrong guys?" Blades demanded as he held Heatwave up.
Chase looked over at Heatwave and they exchanged looks. "Nothing," Chase replied, smil