#Jetfire still is though

[starscream-is-my-wife]

When your husband is arguing with someone on social media and he was created before their species even evolved

Thundercracker being chronically online probably makes him more aware of people’s perception of him, although if it’s personal he’s willing to be ‘problematic’, he was a Decepticon for years he’s still going to be evil but he likes his image as a ‘reformed Decepticon’

[mechncheese]

Would you guys be super duper disappointed with me if I left Science AU Jetfire's relationship status at the end of the story ambiguous/up for interpretation ? I just remembered something really important in my heart while answering an ask </3

[transingthoseformers]

reading a love potion (its a gun in this one) fic and I'm thinkin

Who would be the funniest mech for Starscream to get love potioned for

many many candidates, depending on continuity

My first thoughts were Jetfire/Skyfire and Optimus sggdgdgddh

A Shockwave who's personality floats closer to his TFA personality or tf1 personality could be funny here

Can you send me the fic? I can't seem to find it

[quibbs126]

So I had a backstory idea for Starscream and Skyfire in my MMX inspired AU (still needs a name), and considering it’s probably gonna be a while before I get around to Starscream at this rate, might as well tell you now

Oh and also while I’m here, something I came up with after my last post. The virus infected bots ended up forming their own group, which is this universe’s version of the Decepticons. Though not all infected are part of the group, and there are also some bots there who aren’t infected at all, just here for the chaos. And then the Autobots here would be the group of bots working to take out and contain the infected bots wreaking havoc on Cybertron

Anyways, on to backstory

So I’m sticking with the g1 origin of them being a pair of scientists before the virus outbreak. And as a matter of fact, the pair eventually got assigned to study the virus and work to develop a cure, this being pretty early on in the outbreak. However, in doing so Starscream ended up getting infected himself, and eventually went haywire and destroyed the lab and all their research, leaving and eventually becoming one of the top members of the Decepticons

Skyfire was also in the destruction of the lab, and while he survived, it was also discovered he too was infected by the virus, just that it was taking longer to affect him than Starscream due to his larger size. As a result, Skyfire was put in a stasis pod to try and slow the virus’ effect (since they at least had gotten that far in their research), where he has remained ever since, with it being agreed that he won’t be reawakened until they’re sure they have a cure for the virus

This is something Skyfire agreed to, being afraid of what the virus had done to Starscream and what he himself might be capable of, especially owing to his large size. He did feel guilty that he could no longer help in finding a cure, especially now that Starscream was a victim of the virus, but he was also aware that at that point in time, they had no better option. He did also agree to allow other scientists to study his body and systems, in hopes that he could at least still contribute to the cause in some way

Starscream’s fairly certain Skyfire died, but he chooses not to think about it too much. Early casualty, he has bigger things to concern himself with now

I’m wondering how much I should incorporate Starscream’s scientist backstory in his role here. Because that’s what he was before going Decepticon in this story, and it was presumably for a long time. So should he take over more of a scientist/inventor role here? Like he can still fight, but should it be more pronounced? I’m not sure

I’m also not sure the extent of the virus’ influence on the victim’s mind. Like okay, when it first fully takes over, the victim is barely in control of their actions, very much not of sound mind and causing mayhem. But after years, because that’s how long the outbreak has been going on, how much have their systems adapted to the virus, and how much of it is the virus, or their own choices? Especially in the case of Megatron, who had his mind influenced the opposite way

But yeah, some additional thoughts I wanted to add. Drawing ain’t going as smoothly as the last page, but I do at least have a first draft of Bumblebee now. I really need to work on my anatomy I’m noticing. Maybe I’ll get around to Starscream now

Also I did this in reference to the g1 episode, the genesis of skystar, but I’m unsure definitively if skystar is here. It probably is though, at least in the past

[orions-hound]

btw recently learned jetfire is in tfa and i think he might be my second favorite tfa character. because hes absurdly adorable

[drinkysketch]

Some doodles on my take on TFP!Jetfire, because him being a Wrecker in the canon of this series amuses me to no end! I sort of see him being somewhat of a sardonic mech due to the war. It’s very rare to get him to smile and interact with the other bots, but it’s not like Wheeljack doesn’t ‘try’. Though deep down, I think it’s just because he may or may not still have feelings for his evil wife.

[velvetwyrme]

bringing back the question for 2025: who in the autobots would fuck a car and/or have an sti

hi i thought too long and hard about this. then i made a silly comic about it which quickly got derailed into another silly bit. and then it kept getting longer and more terrible

i don't know whether you're the same person as the original anon or not but im gonna freakin cry either way. is this my legacy...

on one hand this ask gave me lots of motivation for some reason, so thank you for that, but on the other hand it motivated me to draw a 6 page comic about robot STIs.

i put too much effort into this lmao. for my actual conclusions AND some extra notes about the comic click the read more 👍

Ratchet: No and no. Has HAD STIs before. When he was younger. True across continuities except... in TFA he would have an STI. I can see it.

Ironhide: Yes carfucking, but I feel like the carfuckin was also a one time thing specifically. No STI. To quote my notes: "Frag no, Chromia or Ratch woukd kill him". Typo included.

Jazz: Yes carfucking, no STI because if he got one he'd be on top of treatment. Originally there was a bit in the comic with Jazz and Prowl arguing about which is worse: fuckin a car or havin a STI but it got cut because its already like 6 pages

Prowl: No carfucking and yes STI. He thinks carfucking is Really Weird. Wait. Purely off of vibes because I still haven't watched ES (someday...) but ES!Prowl would fuck a car.

Optimus: Who else do you think gave Megatron the STI? (/j /j... unless?) Carfucking and STI status varies wildly across continuities imo. G1? Yes and yes. IDW... depends on what point in time. I feel like its a yes to both but not at the same time. TFA would not fuck a car but he definitely has an STI. TFP! and ES! OP is a mystery to me, you guys can tell me if you have strong opinions on them. Hm. Armada OP would fuck a car.

Sideswipe: originally it WAS going to be him in the comic but as I mentioned, it got derailed. He'd absolutely give a car an STI.

Wheeljack/Trailbreaker/Hot Rod: Yeah, probably both. Maybe not at the same time though. Hot Rod was only so low on Prowls list because hes Literally Offworld but who knows what hes capable of.

Yes to carfucking, no STI: Lets see... Bumblebee, Cliffjumper (despite Prowl and Ironhide's assumption in the comic, THIS is my actual opinion lmao), I think Mirage would as well, but he'd vehemently deny it. Also *leans in close to the mic* Elita-1 would fuck a car. But she'd do it and it'd be like. Cool.

No to carfucking, yes STI: *long pause as i look into the middle distance* mmm...Smokescreen. I don't know much about TFP!Smokescreen but he can get lumped in there too. Sunstreaker as well, but more because he says he didn't fuck a car but he could be lying and you genuinely can't tell if he is. Also Brawn for some reason.

As for other characters elsewhere... Rodimus is a strong contender for giving a car an STI. So is Whirl, but I feel like he's slightly less likely to have an STI, yknow? Only slightly.

Other notable ones I think would have both but NOT at the same time: Swerve, Skids, Drift (specifically because of Rodimus because even if they don't fuck they seem like the type of friends who share drinks), I think First Aid fits in here too, and is the only medic who would have an STI that I can think of off the top of my head. Oh also Armada!Jetfire.

I also think that the Aerialbots are all contenders for this category too. Some more than others but it wouldn't matter because they all end up with an STI and it's miserable.

ALSO...

The alternate punchline to the comic, had it been set on the Lost Light, is... a meeting (in which the general consensus is that Rodimus fucked the car that mysteriously appeared on the Lost Light, AND he gave it an STI)

Then, Nightbeat bursts in with Brainstorm in tow, and he reveals that it was in fact Brainstorm's fault- NOT because he fucked the car (he's far more interested in er... lab equipment, lets say) BUT he made a gun that fucks cars, and accidentally gave the GUN a STI

ALSO SIDEBURN FROM TF:RID (2001). he would ABSOLUTELY fuck a car and give it an STI. He canonically loves red sportscars and you KNOW that mans got an STI.

[bromomentum]

what do Skyfire and Starscream think of Bumblebee’s interest in Jetfire (and Jetstorm- not 100% sure on that one)?

Regardless of which of the twins Bumblebee decides to date, their parents' reactions would be the same to each one. Skyfire would be delighted to see either of his sons going on dates and being awkward about romance (just like he was when he started dating Star), and would always be open to give advice to either his children or Bee. Though he is still protective over them, and will remind Bee in casual conversations to take care of them and behave is he wants his approval. Starscream would start wearing this around the base everyday for the first couple of months as soon as he finds out he is dating any of the twins.

[dhs-in-disguise]

Shoutout to this fucking thing I found while looking through my older posts. It‘s very dear to my heart and just, so fucking stupid and niche I love it so much

Hey, I’ve made some TFA fanart… and of course it’s an inside joke no one gets without or with context. Anyways, I, personally, like this, and I better do cause I wasted my whole god damn day on it.

(If anyone wants context, you’ll only get it if I get some amount of request for it, because it’s way too complicated to just… do, I guess.)

[revelboo]

i know he's not very popular but could we perhaps get an skyfire/jetfire update please??👉👈

Sure!

Floating Down The River pt 5

Skyfire x Reader

• Afraid to move as you make a soft, little noise and your head turns, cheek resting against him, he watches the fire. Can’t believe you trust him enough to sleep in his arms, not sure what to make of you. Definitely doesn’t deserve your trust after almost accidentally drowning you. Had been so scared of being found out, at what your people might do to him, that he’d panicked and it had nearly cost you your life. Wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he had hurt you or even killed you. Doesn’t want to harm any living thing.

• Halfway asleep, you’re aware of his warmth and the gentleness of his servos threading through your damp hair. Combing it almost absently with his servos. Still can’t believe any of this is real. All of it too fantastical, but the soft spoken giant is such a sweetheart. Had been so apologetic for scaring you into falling, like he genuinely felt awful about it and even though you barely know him, you feel sure he had been sincere. That he hadn’t meant you harm.

• Stilling when you reach up and wrap your fingers around one of his servos, he doesn’t resist when you pull his hand to you. Little head resting against him as you study his servos and joints. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, letting you bend one of his servos. Obviously curious about him. He’s curious, too. This is far closer than he’s ever been to a human before. “You should rest.”

• Big hands. Even mass displaced, they dwarf yours. And truthfully, you’re afraid he’ll be gone when you wake if you do sleep. “It’s weird, right? Our hands are the same,” you murmur. “In sci-fi movies, the aliens have three fingers or tentacles, but we’re the same.” Laying your hand against the back of his, you smile. Because, really, what are the odds? Bipedal. Same number of digits. His face is all too human, too. Like there’s a connection you’re missing.

• Venting as he studies your little hand against his, it’s not that he wasn’t aware of those similarities already, but they’re glaringly obvious now that you bring it up. What other organic race has been so similar to their own in form? And maybe he’s as fascinated by those similarities as you seem to be. Wanting to believe there’s reason there. Something he’s not yet seeing. Same number of digits on a hand is a coincidence. But your face being so similar to his own? That you’re both bipedal? There’s something there. Something curious that he wants to discover.

Previous

Next

[woradat]

Hold me tight

SUMMARY - before you drift away, into the galaxy —too far for him to reach, he should have held onto you tighter, but he didn't (pre-war)

PAIRING - jetfire x reader, skyfire x reader

·

·

He should have left the moment the projector’s beam sliced through the dim chamber and cast the silhouette of another onto the polished obsidian floor

The light cut across the dust-moted air like a blade of frozen sunlight—soft, but unyielding. The silhouette did not shift. Merely stood there, tall and still, as if carved from old starlight and authority

Jetfire’s vents caught in his throat

He remained rooted. Not out of defiance—no, never that—but because the variables of movement and consequence had suddenly multiplied beyond calculation. His body refused to obey logic. The simplest action—turn, retreat, explain—felt like a catastrophic misstep on a precarious quantum equation

He could feel the temperature change in the air. Not with heat, but with presence—that ineffable shift when another mind steps into your radius and rewrites the gravity of the room

He tilted his gaze upward, slowly. Reluctantly. Bracing for a voice made of judgment and protocol

Expulsion. Citation. Public apology. Reclamation

A thousand outcomes bloomed in his mind like faulty computations

Instead, the voice that came was neither clipped nor cruel

It was curious

“If the universe is a question... are you attempting to answer it with a nobleman’s equation?”

The words rolled out with a peculiar elegance—like poetry smuggled into science, soft and sharp in equal measure. The voice was stately but playful, as though both mocking and indulging him

Jetfire blinked. His vocalizer crackled slightly before functioning

“I’m sorry. I just… the datapads fell, and I—”

“And you chose to pick them up” the other said, stepping closer. Their silhouette became clearer in the light, glinting at the edges—like moonlight caught on the lip of a goblet “And you read them”

Jetfire stiffened

“Not the worst choice. But don’t expect praise for daring to think without permission. Not in this building”

He looked down, shame creeping like corrosion through his circuits—until the next words caught him off-guard

“But I commend you”

His gaze snapped back up, optics wide

The other offered the datapad back to him with a delicacy that bordered on reverence—like handing over something fragile, alive, and perhaps forbidden

“Are you the kind who reads to believe, or the kind who reads to question?”

It wasn’t a trick question. And yet it felt like it held a lock to something far beyond data

Jetfire opened his mouth—but the question was too rich, too strange. Not designed for swift answers, only quiet undoings

The stranger smiled. It was not warm, but it was honest

“I ask for one hour of your time. Each day. In the lower chamber. The one they abandoned after the war scare. I wish to see whether your gravitational equations map the stars as I do”

“You mean… you want me to research with you?”

“No” A quiet, indulgent laugh “I want you to answer one question a day. No more”

They stepped past him then, their field brushing faintly against his like the edge of magnetism—unseen, but undeniable

“Here’s one to begin: do you believe the sinusoidal fluctuations in the gravity of dying stars suggest any pattern in the behavior of consciousness?”

Jetfire made a choked noise

“What?”

“Too soon? Forgive me. I tend to start conversations in the middle.” They turned, pausing in the doorway like a scholar on the brink of forgetting their own name

“Let’s begin again. What’s yours?”

“…Jetfire”

The figure did not offer their own. They merely studied him—as though reading a newly named particle—and murmured:

“Fitting. One day, perhaps, you’ll fly”

Then, without waiting for response, they vanished into the hall—leaving Jetfire to stare at the flickering projector still humming softly, and wonder if he had just been inducted into a secret society of one

—

No one had ever once suggested to him that silence, in a space built to amplify the smallest of sounds, could resonate in such a peculiar, almost devastating manner. Silence in a laboratory wasn’t a void, not quite. No, it was a substance, something that wrapped around you like an invisible fog, as if every molecule of the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next disruption, the next event, the next explanation. But tonight, the air felt particularly thick with it—as though the universe had paused for a heartbeat, just for him

It had taken him years of training, of learning how to concentrate in the face of chaos, of adapting his mind to the punctuated rhythm of data and deductions. Yet it was in this silence, this suspended moment, that Jetfire realized with a sudden jolt of clarity: he had been waiting

Waiting for what? He wasn’t entirely sure, but the answer lingered just at the edge of his awareness, like a half-remembered dream or a word you knew was on the tip of your tongue but couldn’t quite pull to the surface. Perhaps he had been waiting for the familiar hum of his sensors to be disturbed by the singular presence that always found him here, at the desk beside some unfinished analysis, surrounded by research notes, and the faint scent of machine oil

“You're two and a half minutes late”

The words—no, the voice—cut through the stillness with a precision Jetfire could never quite predict. Dry. Unfazed. The perfect example of an observation made simply because it was there to be noted, like the path of an asteroid traversing the cold void of space

Jetfire smiled faintly—a rare, slanted curl of his mouth that he never showed to anyone else

"I was detained by an emergency briefing. Apologies, I—"

“Mmm… A grave offense indeed” you replied in a drawl, lifting a bottle of lubricant and giving it a shake like someone mixing a midnight cocktail

A faint snort interrupted him, not mocking, but amused in the way that only someone who knew how to reduce the weight of all things could manage "Grievous misconduct. And as for your punishment, I’m afraid you’ll have to endure my complete and utterly enlightening lecture on The Gravitational Philosophy of Dream Oscillations"

Jetfire let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head slightly "I... didn’t realize that was an actual field of study"

"No, of course not" came the immediate response, with an exaggerated lift of the speaker’s shoulders as if it were entirely unimportant whether or not they were speaking of any truth

"But you see, I had a dream last night—a dream—and in it, the entire universe existed without a gravitational core. It was, naturally, quite difficult to navigate, because everything, every matter, every thought, just… drifted. But strangely, there was one constant. One force"

The absurdity of the words struck his mind like a needle to the most tender part of thought—sharp, precise, and disturbingly accurate

Jetfire lowered himself into the lab's rickety swivel chair. The metal frame groaned in protest

“And in that dream of yours… did anyone survive?”

There was a pause. The other bot stilled, set the bottle down, and looked up with an expression halfway between amusement and strange clarity

“There was one. The one who created gravity themselves… and pulled all the stars toward them — with sheer will of heart"

Jetfire didn’t reply right away. He simply sat there, listening as the scientist across the room rambled on in whimsical metaphors—half-poetry, half-forgotten philosophy. And while his logical mind attempted to separate fantasy from fact, his spark was doing the opposite

It was pulling everything inward. Toward a center

Toward you—the one who always sounded like you were joking, but never once lied

At first, he had merely been here because the lab offered access to rare instruments—free from bureaucratic rituals. Then he had chosen to stay because you understood the language of science. But now…

He didn’t want to leave

"Do you always dream like that?" Jetfire asked, his voice softer than he intended. It wasn’t just about the dream, of course. It never really was. But this—this peculiar pull, this gravity between them, that wasn’t the kind of thing Jetfire could admit easily. And so, he hid it behind his inquiry

You smile, when it came, was a quiet thing, edged with a knowing that only made Jetfire more uncertain of his own thoughts "Sometimes" they replied. "I think it’s the only way to escape the weight of everything around us. Dreams don’t have to make sense, after all"

He wanted to argue with that, wanted to say that dreams weren’t supposed to be some ethereal escape, but the truth was, he couldn’t. Not when the room itself felt so real when it was just the two of them standing at its center

There was a tension here, one that neither of them had asked for, but neither could escape. A strange, compelling force between them that felt like the pull of unseen stars—a pull neither had the strength to ignore. And yet, there was no admission. No declaration. Just an ever-growing understanding that, in the quietest moments, they both understood the same thing without ever speaking it aloud: the universe, in all its infinite complexity, could very well be shaped, and bent, by the simplest of forces—whether gravity, or will, or even something as unmeasurable as a glance

It was when the silence stretched again, both of them sitting side by side, neither of them quite able to leave, that Jetfire realized with a sudden clarity that the silence between them had changed

It had shifted, imperceptibly, but undeniably

And the only thing left for him to do now was to accept that it had happened. And maybe… maybe he didn’t need to fill it with words

Maybe the absence was the answer

—

After day and after day, Jetfire returned

He told his superiors that he was conducting field surveys around the Senate Tower perimeter. In truth, he just kept finding reasons to enter the lab again. To sit across from you—the planetary scientist who seemed less like an academic and more like a verse carved from the cosmic dust itself

You explained quantum entanglement with the cadence of a bedtime tale. Your hand gestures painted orbit lines in the air. You labeled your document drawers with star charts instead of numbers

You once asked, in a perfectly serious tone: “If stars could write letters to one another, what grammar would they use?”

It wasn’t a question he could answer. But he remembered it

—

Each day, once the experiments ended, there came a brief, weightless moment—just the two of you, sitting quietly beside cooling machinery. Watching an unfinished star map flicker on the display screen. Sometimes, no words were exchanged. And yet, the silence felt full—like a breath the universe was holding in

“You know” your voice broke the hush, “in this vast universe… perhaps we’re nothing but space dust. Maybe none of this means anything"

Jetfire turned to look at you. He had never considered the thought in quite that way before. But then, unexpectedly, words slipped past his lips

“Maybe… it means something to us. Just now.. like this”

You gave him a faint smile. You looked like you were going to say something else, but chose not to

The silence that followed wasn’t like the one from the first time you met. It wasn’t hollow. It was full of questions that didn’t need answers

“Do you have a plan for what comes next?” Jetfire asked, voice almost hesitant

“Explore the whole universe” you replied at once, mischief dancing behind your optics “And you?”

He paused, then smiled too “I’d like to go with you.. but I don’t know where to start"

And in that moment, he realized: it wasn’t just about the stars above, or the trajectories he could calculate. It was that with you beside him, even the smallest questions in life felt like they carried immense weight

“Sometimes, it only takes one strange little question to lead us away from everything we thought we knew” you said gently, your voice already drifting into another realm

Jetfire looked at you, and the universe suddenly felt smaller

Maybe… the journey didn’t need a destination

“And what if there's no path to follow?”

“Then we’ll find one. Or make one. Together”

The answer came clearly, as if it had been waiting inside you all along

And for the first time, Jetfire felt as though he was beginning to understand his own journey—not through drive or ambition, but through a stillness that could not be measured by instruments

—

Jetfire was hunched over a data console, utterly immersed, when they leaned on his side—too close, of course, deliberately so. They always had a knack for standing where they weren’t needed, asking questions that twisted like Möbius strips and left interns fleeing for quieter company. But Jetfire never asked them to leave

You didn’t speak at first, only watched the patterns scrolling across his screen, their chin resting in one servo, optics half-lidded like a cat watching a bird it wasn’t quite hungry enough to catch

“So"

You murmured eventually “if quantum field fluctuations respond to proximity and intent—what do you suppose that says about us, hm?”

Jetfire didn’t turn. He paused, one servo frozen mid-input, then resumed typing with a sudden stiff precision “It says you’ve been reading fringe journals again"

“And flirting, if you noticed"

“I noticed"

A beat. Then another, long enough for them to step back like they usually would, laugh it off with a joke about social experiments gone wrong. But you didn’t. You stayed

“You always act so composed” you said softly “but your EM field is terribly loud when you're pretending I don’t affect you"

Jetfire’s digits stalled again

They continued, letting their words fall with the kind of offhand rhythm that made people forget how sharp they really were

“Do you know what I think? I think you like being bothered. I think you find me—” Their digits lightly tapped the back of his shoulder, where circuitry was most sensitive “—stimulating"

Now he did turn, ever so slightly, not enough to meet their gaze but just enough to suggest caution “You’re not usually.. be like this"

“I’m not usually this serious” you replied, smile lopsided and voice light as starlight

“But you are. You’re always so precise. So heavy with your truths. So terribly fond of structure. And I… well” you stepped closer again, tone dipping into something uncharacteristically tender “I’d like to see what happens when something... unstructured gets under your plating"

Jetfire inhaled sharply, and for once, didn’t have an answer ready. Not a theory. Not a quip. Just the steady thrum of his field responding, betraying him

You tilted your helm and added—half playful, half hopeful “Would you permit the hypothesis that I’m fond of you?”

Jetfire stared for a moment, then—slowly, achingly—nodded

A beat passed

Then you smirked

“Excellent. Expect several invasive follow-up experiments. Peer-reviewed, of course"

He sighed, the sound brittle with half-swallowed laughter, and muttered under his breath “I should’ve known”

“Oh, you did” you grinned, optics bright “You just hoped I’d be subtle"

.

.

They didn’t leave that evening

Not when the lights dimmed for shift-change. Not when Jetfire’s screen flickered into idle starlight. Not even when silence began to pool between them like liquid static, heavy with unsaid things

You stood beside him, arms folded, posture languid—but your optics gleamed with calculation, as though you were calibrating an orbit

“Did you know” you began in that infuriatingly smooth tone “that shared frequency alignment over time can be... accelerated, if both subjects are in prolonged proximity?”

Jetfire glanced at you warily “Are you proposing that we sit closer?”

“Oh, sweetspark. I’m proposing far more than that"

You stepped in until your helm nearly brushed his shoulder, their voice a low hum—part mockery, part invocation “I’ve been circling your orbit for cycles, Jetfire. Tapping at your shields. Reading your footnotes. Tuning myself to your silences and you—” your servo brushed his arm, a fleeting contact that felt measured, deliberate, almost reverent “You always flinch like truth is a wound. But I wonder... what happens if I don’t let you look away this time?”

Jetfire inhaled sharply. His optics flicked to theirs, wide, vulnerable—and caught

“I ..I didn’t mean to mislead—”

“Oh, I know” they interrupted gently, stepping closer still “You were trying to protect yourself. You always do. But I’m not here to dissect you, Jetfire. I’m here to choose you. Again and again. With all your walls and silences and nervous, noble spark"

He swallowed thickly “You can’t just say things like that"

“I can” you whispered “and I will"

A moment passed. And then, as if gravity had given up—

Jetfire reached for them

It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was the startled, breathless motion of someone who had spent too long holding back—and now couldn’t

Their bodies met in a slow, deliberate collision, a hush of metal and warmth. His arms enfolded them like he was afraid they’d vanish, and they leaned into him with a smile that tasted like triumph and tenderness all at once

“I love you” he whispered, almost inaudible “Primus help me"

The confession landed like stardust—soft, infinite, real

They leaned up, brushing their mouth along the edge of his jaw in a kiss so subtle it felt like a secret, and murmured “I know. You were terribly obvious. But adorable about it"

He gave a shuddering laugh—and when they kissed him fully, it was slow and breathless and aching, like two minds syncing after endless static. No rush. No chaos. Just resonance

When you pulled back, they pressed their forehead to his and added with mock-seriousness “Now that we’ve aligned... may I begin the real experiments?”

Jetfire exhaled, optics fluttering shut “Primus. What have I unleashed?”

“A lover with a lab and very ambitious hypotheses”

—

The world was already fraying at the seams

Cities once humming with philosophy and particle dreams now bristled with paranoia, blared slogans through smog-thick air. Everywhere, signs were changing—banners raised, sides drawn, colors worn not with pride but with the desperation of identity carved into metal and flame. War had not yet come in name, but its scent was already in the circuits of every thinking mech

You stood in the hangar of the survey vessel they once treated like a daydream—tall, sleek, built for long-term celestial research. It was the kind of ship only a handful of scientists could even touch. But you had clearance. You had always been too curious, too vocal, too exhausting for bureaucratic comfort—but undeniably brilliant

Enough to be tolerated

Enough to be trusted

Enough to leave

You had recalibrated the nav systems two cycles ago, quietly. Stocked the coolant, loaded rations. Ran diagnostics under cover of "long-range sub-quantum testing" All ready and now, Jetfire stood before them, half-shadowed by the cold white light

“You knew I wouldn’t come"

You smiled softly. Not sad. Not angry. Just... aware

“Yes. I knew” your voice was like paper slowly folding in firelight—delicate, measured, but glowing from within “But knowing doesn’t dull the wanting, Jetfire. I wanted to believe we’d chase nebulae together. That we'd map the gravitational poems of the void and argue about nothing for a few million years"

He looked away. His Decepticon badge wasn’t fully painted yet—half-dried on his plating, like a promise he hadn’t learned to carry “There’s too much wrong here to run from"

“I’m not running” you stepped closer “I’m leaving. There’s a difference"

Jetfire’s optics flicked up, stricken “Don’t say it like it’s noble"

“It’s not..” A small, tired laugh “It’s cowardice and dreamdust and a touch of statistical pragmatism. There’s nothing noble about solitude, Jetfire. But... I have to go"

You reached up, gently resting two digits on the badge’s edge. Not to peel it away. Just to feel the heat of it

“I know what this means to you. I know why you chose it. And I don’t blame you for choosing a war over the stars. Someone has to stay and fight for the ones who can’t escape"

He looked at them as if they were already a ghost

“And what if I regret this?” he asked quietly

“Then I hope you find me” they said simply “Out there, among the dark harmonics of some distant system. I’ll be cataloguing the spin of dying suns. Waiting. Not for you—but for the version of you who’s ready"

Silence bloomed between them like a nova

No kiss. No hug. Just two minds, once aligned, now drifting—still caught in each other’s gravity, but on diverging trajectories

And then you turned, boarding the ship alone

As the launch thrusters powered up and the docking bay peeled open to the black, star-speckled vastness, they allowed themselves one final indulgence—a line spoken softly to the emptiness beside them: “You were my favorite hypothesis, Jetfire. I hope the data proves me wrong"

And then you were gone

—

Some nights,

he sits in front of the console, reading through your logs—the ones detailing anomalous gravitational phenomena you were trying to make sense of

And in one of them, there’s a single line that has nothing to do with science at all: "If I became a star no one could see, would someone, somewhere, peer through a lens and know that I was lonely?"

Jetfire quietly closes the datapad

He understands now… you weren’t asking for an answer. You were reaching out, wondering if someone was listening

And he—he always was

Even if he never said a word back

·

·

NOTE - don't be so surprised. I mean yeah and they broke up like that. Ha

[mechncheese]

https://www.tumblr.com/mechncheese/780947154692964352/hello-ive-got-a-question-about-science-au-is?source=share

And with all that they still don't want him dead?

Man, that's so family scandal coded.

Like, these guys will argue for so ong, they will fight, but never dare to kill or fatally injure TC

Am i right or am i over thinking?

Ask this is referring to

Oh they definitely want him dead, they will try to tear his spark out of his body. They will do everything in their power to kill him and they do end up in a fight to the death (This will tie into Jetfire's seeker encounter later). Skywarp is especially pissed-- I HAD THIS DIALOGUE IN MIND FOR THEM though things are still cooking

[pinkanonwrites]

Washrack Academy

Jetstorm and Jetfire have a lot of questions about humans. But you? You just want to take your shower in peace.

TFA Jetfire, TFA Jetstorm, and Reader, no ships but it's implied Jetfire has a little crush on the reader, human reader, non-sexual nudity, is it still voyeurism if it's mostly fueled by curiosity? probably, AFAB Reader with GN Pronouns, alien anatomy discussions

"You know, humans are being much more hygienic than Sentinel says they are being."

You rolled your eyes, hefting your small duffel bag further up your shoulder. "Yeah, well Sentinel doesn't know as much about humans as he thinks he does. Most people I know shower every other day at the very least. We aren't big fans of being dirty."

"But now you are being extra dirty!" Jetstorm loomed over you with a cheeky grin, running a huge metal digit over the top of your head. A slick of motor oil came with it, sending another disgusted shiver down your spine at the gooey sensation. "Bumblebee maybe needs to working on power steering! And not splashing human friends with drinks of celebration."

Being a human liaison representing the city of Detroit on Cybertron was already a job way outside of the normal parameters of your career, and the stress was leaving you pretty wired. But Bumblebee accidentally tipping an oversized can of motor oil off a table and directly onto your head while showing off just had to be the final nail in the coffin. In front of a whole bunch of big important Autobots and everything.

Now you were being flanked on either side by Sentinel Prime's personal squadron (a gig they eagerly volunteered for and a choice both you and Sentinel had little say in) as they showed you to whatever the Cybertronian equivalent of an army base locker room was so you could get cleaned up. 

"And motor oil not to be damaging your fluffy organic fibers?" Great, now Jetfire was poking at your greasy hair too. At least he had half a processor to keep his igniters off while he did.

"It's called hair. And it'll only damage it if I leave it in too long. Plus, it's really bad for my skin."

"Good for it not to be doing badness to hair! Yikes for it to be doing badness to skin. So sensitive, little organics. Must be very hard!"

"You're telling me, bud."

"Here! Coming this way." Jetstorm gestured for you to follow him through a tiled doorway. The room beyond looked remarkably similar to the locker room you'd had in high school, though blown up to a cartoonish scale. "We have tiny washrack for mini-bot sizes. Maybe too big for you still, but is better than nothing!"

He wasn't exaggerating, the handles for the mini-bot sized faucets were still a good two or three feet out of your reach. 

"Where do you even put your towels? Your soap?" You glanced around but failed to find any bench or wall divot suitably placed for setting your things down. "Is there anywhere I can set my bag?"

"Just be putting bag into subspace! Easy for peasy!" A small compartment popped open on Jetstorm's chest, and from it he procured… a metal scouring pad? A giant one, about the size of a large restaurant platter. If the situation weren't so incredibly absurd already, you might've gotten a chuckle out of the idea of a robot using a Brillo pad as a loofah.

"Yeah, we don't… humans don't have that." You said instead. Because this situation was, in fact, incredibly absurd.

Jetfire and Jetstorm looked at each other, mirrored expressions of visible confusion. Then, they both shrugged.

"Being a human…"

"...Is very difficult!"

"Look, just- can one of you hold it for me? Please?"

"For certain! I will be best at human wash rack supplies holder job! Be counting on me." You dropped your duffel bag into Jetfire's cupped hands and wrenched it open. Grabbing your various bottles of hair product and a large towel from within, you lined them up on the floor along the wall and hopefully just beyond the reach of the shower's spray. But as you moved for the bottom of your shirt to pull it off, you felt the prickle of two pairs of optics staring just a little bit too hard at your body.

"Are you two just gonna… watch me? You can wait outside, you know."

"We are to be protecting you from curious bots! And make sure you do not do the snooping or the wandering off." Jetstorm insisted.

"Are you gonna do that while staring me down? A little privacy, please." Was it ironic to ask for privacy in a locker room? Probably. But most people had the decency not to stare while someone was getting undressed. 

Most people. Maybe that sentiment didn't extend to twelve foot tall transforming robot soldiers.

"Staring? Who is doing the staring? Certainly not us goodness bots!" 

"No, no! We would never be the staring! Especially not at soft and squishy little human frame!"

Both brothers rushed to cup a servo over their optics, continuously asserting their supposed innocence all the while. You sighed, peeling your way out of your slick and permanently stained clothes and letting them fall to the ground in an oily heap.

"Well I don't know how it is on Cybertron, but on Earth staring at people in the locker room is what we call 'bad manners.' You two ever heard of those?"

"We will being so very manners-filled! No staring from us at you, big promise." Jetfire insisted, carefully depositing your bag into his subspace as he brought his other servo up so they were both covering his faceplate.

"Though do not be trying to do the sneaking off while we are look-away! That would be also called 'bad manners.'" Added Jetstorm with a cheeky thumbs-up.

"I'm not going to go sneaking around your base naked, so you don't need to worry about that. Now could one of you get the water for me, please?"

As Jetstorm felt along the wall and cranked the water to partial blast, you swear you heard him ask his brother 'But what is "naked" meaning?' The hiss of the showerhead quickly covered it, though, and you decided you'd rather focus on getting clean before you struggled to explain the foreign concept to the pair of ridiculous twins. The water ran just hot enough to make your skin tingle as you lathered your hair with shampoo, vigorously scrubbing the motor oil free from your scalp. It'd probably take more than a few rinses to get everything out, you'd have to ask Professor Sumdac to bridge you some more toiletries way sooner than you'd originally planned. Maybe Sari could pick some up for you on her next trip home?

But as you lathered your hair up for the fourth (maybe fifth?) time, you couldn't help but notice a quiet, metallic buzzing that could just barely be heard over the hiss of water. It paused and fizzed in a rhythmic pattern, not all too dissimilar from Morse Code. It would stop for a moment, before picking up again, slightly lower pitched this time. It sounded almost like… a conversation.

"If you've got something to say, you can say it out loud." You called them out. Jetfire startled at the sound of your voice, his own sounding slightly strained. 

"What? But we are such quiet being!"

"You're doing that… that 'EM field' thing. Where you talk to each other with your brains? I've heard Bee and Bulkhead do it before. So, c'mon. What do you want to know?"

He clammed up, absentmindedly scuffing one of his pedes against the tiled floor. Jetstorm, meanwhile, had a sly grin growing across his faceplate. He raised his free servo up in the air like a student waiting to be called on.

"Actually, Jetfire is having a question!"

"I-I am not! Do not listen, brother is merely making funny joke!"

"No, no! Do not listen to him! Jetfire is very, very curious about human not having sp-MRMPH!"

A cacophony of metal on metal echoed through the wash racks as Jetfire tackled his brother to the wet tile, wrestling his servos over the other's intake to keep him quiet. Jetstorm grabbed for his brother's goggles and pulled him into a shaky headlock, even as Jetfire repeatedly kicked him in the knees with the flat of his pede. You scrambled to grab your towel, clutching it to your front as the two bots collapsed to the ground in an ear-splitting crash.

"Hey, HEY! Quit it! What the hell are you two doing?!"

Both of their heads snapped up at your tone, Jetstorm still looking mischievous while his brother had the decency to look a bit sheepish. He quickly pried Jetfire's servo off of his intake.

"Jetfire is wanting to know why humans do not have spike! You know, since he was doing the peeking."

"Y-You were also doing peeking! I know you were curious too!" Jetfire shot back.

"Maybe curious, yes, but you are obsessed! 'Oh, little humans are so soft and so squishy being! Why so warm? I want to be holding one!'"

"I am not sounding like that! You are making exaggeration!"

Jetfire seemed on the verge of tackling his brother again, so you quickly stepped in. "Okay, geez, look. I will answer one, ONE! Question each. And only if you stop hitting each other. That's it. I don't have the energy for this today."

The two bots awkwardly clambered back to their feet, Jetstorm looking down at you with a playful grin while Jetfire seemed to be looking anywhere but your unclothed frame.

"Brotherrrrr?" Jetstorm teased. "Would you like to be going first?" 

Jetfire dignified his brother's teasing with a sharp elbow to the side, but spoke anyway. "S-Sorry to be peeking when you said not, but, um, do humans not have- uh, not have spike? Or is it hidden? Maybe not pressurized? If embarrassing you don't have to say. No biggee."

You furrowed your brow. 'Spike.' You don't think you'd heard any of the Autobots use that term before, at least not around you. Maybe it was a built-in weapon? Or some sort of specialized armor plating?

"I, uh, I don't know what a spike is. Sorry. Can you be… more specific?"

Jetfire let out a high-pitched sound, similar to heat escaping a tea kettle, while his brother only seemed to beam even brighter at his humiliated suffering.

"Ah, you know! Spike!" Jetstorm grinned. "Right here, above valve? Comes out like 'fssshh'? No modesty panel on you, so maybe just hidden away!" He made a bunch of vague motions in front of his crotch, and with a looming horror you started to catch on as he mimed the motion of something growing and rising up in front of his crotch plate. His modesty panel.

Holy shit they had robot dicks.

"N-No? No, I don't have a- a spike." You were doing your absolute best to stay focused on the conversation at hand, not think about… about the robot penis that apparently all Cybertronians had? "Humans, uh, most humans just have one or the other. The, um, the spike or the… the…"

"Valve?" Jetstorm happily supplied.

"Sure? I guess?!"

"Something new to be learned every day! Right, brother?" Jetstorm thumped his brother on the back with an open servo, while Jetfire was openly refusing to make eye contact with you. The temperature in the room seemed to peak by a few degrees, and based on the heat waves rolling off of Jetfire's body you had an inkling suspicion it was his doing, however unintentional it may be. "Anyways, my turn, yes? You said word 'naked'. What is 'naked' meaning?"

"Uh, y-yeah. Um, yeah. Sure." God, you did not have the mental fortitude to deal with these revelations today. "Naked just means you're not… covered up? Wearing clothes. There are some parts on a human that have to be covered in public, otherwise it's uh… inappropriate." Your only solace was that now you had some sort of comparison to make between Cybertronians and humans. "Like, you guys wouldn't walk around with your… your spike out? Same for humans."

"Ohhh…" They even had stunned realizations in unison. You'd almost consider it cute, if you weren't already so burnt-out.

"Yep, well, class is over. Can I please get dressed now? Preferably without being watched?"

"A-Ah! Yes, of course! So sorry! Here is things." Jetfire quickly fumbled your duffel out of his subspace, only for it to slip through his digits and hit the floor with a thud. Wincing, he turned to shove his brother from the room, calling over his shoulder to you as they went. "We will be watching door so no bots do peeking! Then there is no way we be seeing you naked, not even little bit! Seeing you in moment- but not naked! Just normal seeing!"

"O-Okay? I'll be out in… a bit." But they were already gone. Weird. Weird couple of bots. But hey, at least now you could dry your hair in peace.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  

"Very bumpy landing, brother." Jetstorm couldn't fight his mirthful grin as he stared down at his spark-twin, who was currently sitting with his back to the wall outside the wash racks, knee-joints pulled up tight to his chassis and faceplate hidden from view. "I may not be seeing exact same appeal you do, but humans are verrrrrry entertaining being. That human especially so!"

"I wish to be offline." Jetfire lamented. "So awkward, very very uncool. They will never be speaking to me again."

"Do not be so downer, brother! They answer questions very nice, and do not even yell when you peeking at their array!"

Jetfire let out another pathetic wail. "Do not be reminding me! Me, caught peeking? Would rather scrub every rivet on Omega Supreme than be that embarrassing again." He slammed his helm against the tops of his knee-joints a few times for good measure, a loud, echoing clanking reverberating down the hall. "Why are little humans being so soft? A-And when covering self, why are little peeks of soft bits around towel so- so erotic?"

Jetstorm cackled, patting his brother atop the helm with his servo. "And to think, we thought being human is hard. Sounds like liking human is much, much harder!"

[yuzudonut]

ouuu some more stuff for my nyon port town au... people outside of nyon

my rambling below the line

prowl is more based on his g1 incarnation and that one abridged dub I saw where he was very soft-spoken and walked all over. idk about you guys but some hospitals I see have security at the front and this is basically what prowl does, checking people go in and out.

i have nothing special for ironhide i just think he makes a really good Old Guy Coworker who annoys you at worst and endears you at best, hes still working in security god knows why and has a beautiful wife working as a tankermen at Iacon's ports

red alert heads the security firm that Iacon's hospitals hire out of, not for very long though i imagine he ends up out of the job like 6 months in bcs of the stressful workload getting to him and gets whisked off to work as like, in search & rescue w/ inferno

also this really is a case of everyone kinda vaguely knows everyone if you reach hard enough you could add how ironhide and chromia know elita, op and kup and that gets the rest of the nyon citizens connected to everyone else in someway shape or form

characters who arent drawn but I've also been thinking abt:

jazz and blaster are both radio hosts and in the entertainment industry. blasters cassettes work in diff parts of it, rewind idrk yet, eject and ramhorn commentators for cube, rossana and steeljaw are in music

all ik fr rewind is itd be cute for him to work w/ the reflector trio

soundwave and his cassettes stream gladiator battles, frenzy and rumble are ofc the commentators while soundwave works more like a producer and the others go between working cameras/mic/directing

IVE BEEN STRUGGLING W WINDBLADE AND STARSCREAM TBHHH, starscream polisci space engineering double major nightmare working w/ xenobiologist jetfire in tandem... but also smt funny abt making him part of a circus w/ windblade, bumblebee, cliffjumper and skywarp

[megadoomingir]

Howdy! So I've already read Stop Me like probably three times already (maybe four since I plan on rereading again) and I just want to say that both Stop Me and Redeem The Stars will always be strangled tightly in my spark. The first time I picked it up I read it EVERY DAY. I even made a Fanfic Friday dedicated to it and every time I even think about it I literally explode into a mixed emotional breakdown (especially when thinking about those last two chapters.)

Anyway, I wanted to ask a few Qs if you don't mind...

Was there anything that inspired/gave you the idea to write Stop Me or Redeem The Stars? If so, what was your inspo?

Who's Starscream's favorite out of Team Prime? Any reason why?

How would Starscream react if Jetfire was in this universe?

Is there any actual explanation why Starscream suddenly discovered his power? Or did he just always have an outlier ability but was just unaware of it?

How close would you say Optimus and Starscream are?

Thank you for taking your time to read this if you do! Absolutely kookoo bananas for your works (I'm trying so hard not to explode right now) and I hope you're doing the bestest of best!!

Howdy back~! I’m honored to hear that both of my Transformers stories hold such high value to you. ^^

1. Frustration. Spite. Knowing that TFP had the opportunity to be so much MORE and seeing it held back by corporate standards instead of encouraged by an artist’s vision. Starscream himself was a wonderfully complicated character that had initially been written out of the show. And when he was forced back in, it was clear that no one knew what to do with him. How he was treated made everything so much more frustrating. Well, if the writers of TFP couldn’t or wouldn’t do it, I guess it’s MY job to fix it.

2. Starscream definitely could never but absolutely could while also not really being hypothetical in his address of this question that maybe, but no, well yes, nah, have a favorite. It’s like choosing a treat. You have favorites for a reason. Maybe you’d prefer something more creamy than chocolatey at one time but the next is something WILD like a fruit roll-up pickle. No judgements. And so it’s not like he could ever truly have a favorite out of all of the bots Optimus. It’s Optimus. Who ELSE?

3. Currently, there is not much I can detail about Skyfire in this particular situation.

4. There is a larger explanation at work but what I can definitively tell you at this time is that Starscream always had this outlier power.

5. Hmmm… Allow me to be poetic in my answer in a way I’ve not been allowed to in my current writings…

Embryonically. Down to the finest wisps of electrical thought and a million words behind quick glances. When one casts a shadow, the other is blinding light. They are the backs and fronts of each other, torn and twisted and broken and still somehow mended despite these things as though they were reflections never fractured. Mirrors. But only of one another.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

I wonder how would bots and elite guard react to ultra magnus having a sparkling who is just a tiny bean and loves their sire a lot but they decide to explore outside and they get lost

-Optimus' is already all over Detroit, putting up missing posters, asking civilians if they've seen the sparkling and turning over every vehicle to look for them. He's almost more frantic than Ultra Magnus himself. Since he kinda sees Earth, Detroit especially, as his responsibility, he feels like it's his duty to find the sparkling. Really worried that someone, either human or decepticon, might find the sparkling first and kidnap them.

-Ratchet is worried about the health of the sparkling. Cybertronians that young are very fragile, even when compared to humans, and who knows what a young sparkling might mistake as fuel and ingest? Is also searching for the sparkling but mostly does that by just driving around the city, shouting their name.

-Bumblebee isn't panicking because he's confident that the sparkling will be fine and that they will find it soon enough. Makes it kind of a game, where the victor is the one that first finds the sparkling. Sees it as a way to prove himself and prove that he is reliable.

-Bulkhead, while not as frantic as Optimus, is not quite as calm as Bumblebee. He does think everything will turn out ok in the end but he still decides to help to look for the sparkling. He mostly focuses on keeping Optimus and the others calm, though he's no very good at it. Lifts vehicles and calls out the name of the sparkling loudly while looking for them.

-Prowl is wasting no time when it comes to looking for the missing sparkling. Not because he's all that worried about their safety (he truly believes they will be fine), he's mostly just annoyed by everyone panicking. The faster he finds the sparkling, the faster people will stop freaking out. Optimus has already had three panic attacks and it is starting to get on Prowl's nerves.

-Ultra Magnus is aging rapidly with stress because WHAT DO YOU MEAN HIS SPARKLING IS LOST ON AN ALIEN WORLD??? No, it's ok, he's calm, don't worry. Tries to keep his cool but it's obvious that he is very affected by the disappearance of his child. He's on the streets of Detroit, flipping over vehicles and benches and asking random humans if they have seen his kid.

-Sentinel is like "of course the Magnus' sparkling went missing on this hellhole of a planet". Is determined to be the one to find the sparkling and bring them back to Ultra Magnus, for recognition and praise of course, though when he realizes that looking for the lil bot means he's got to actually wander Detroit? Ugh. UGH. He's so unhappy about it. Mostly uses the jettwins, making them search for him.

-Jazz, like Prowl, is sure that the sparkling will be fine but still wastes no time in looking for them. Yeah, they will be found soon enough but they might be in distress right now and he wants to avoid them getting any unnecessary trauma. Works hard to calm down the Magnus.

-Jetfire and Jetstorm takes the job of finding the missing sparkling with outmost seriousness. One of them is on the ground, the other in the air. They are invested but, eh, the way they talk it kinda sounds as if they are looking for a missing cat. "Here bitty-bitty! Come to brother Jetstorm! I've got a treat for you!" They mean well but Primus.