It wasn’t at all unusual that Wheeljack’s lab was pitch-black but for the faint phosphorescent glow of a computer’s screen off in one corner. Ratchet had expected it to be that way. So much so that, as he’d entered his passcode into the door’s control panel with one hand while balancing a tray bearing energon against his hip with the other, he was
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In this opening, I was consciously trying to take Ratchet from a "la-dee-dah Wheeljack's nuts again" place to a more "OMFG, Wheeljack's nuts, and he's gonna take me down with him!" kind of place, so I'm glad that showed through. Slippery slope, indeed ( ... )
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Oh, Wheeljack, I love you so very much. You are my patron saint of Wacky Hijinks and Boom. I'm totally loving this, and his relationship with Ratchet- they're totally adorable as either BFFs or OTPs- is absolutely perfect. ^_^ I can't wait to see the rest of this!
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Glad you liked this bit. I hope to have it officially posted somewhat soon. My post-sick groove has been kind of sporadic, but I'm working on it. :)
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Love it. I particularly like the idea that the Dinobots were supposed to be drones, which helps explain why they're treated so badly.
No particular literary critiques from me, possibly because I'm not really in a critiquing state of alertness, but nothing leapt out at me either, so that's a good thing!
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