#imagine one of those on a transformer

[casmoswhitewall]

Doodle dump ft. Naruto x Sonic and pinup girl Rouge

[keferon]

THE NEW CHAPTER OF MISTAKES ON MISTAKES UNTIL IS OUT AND YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS~~~~~~

Spoilers for ch 74 below >:)

Head in hands. And then they all happened to be self sacrificial idiots.

Infinitely delighted by the fact that Optimus automatically decided to catch whoever was falling and only look who that was afterwards. 100/10. Peak Optimus writing.

[hazieash]

Runaan told Ethari everything he went through and now he’s not allowed to leave Ethari’s arms ever again

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sorry for not having a Year of the Dragon MDZS artwork; Unfortunately, I can only picture Dragon LWJ in this particular flavour.

[epicfirestormer]

(holds all three in my hands) I just think they're neat

[hrtgallant]

the way I see it (or the way I'd like to see it written) megatron is fundamentally incorrect in treating optimus as if he is a completely different entity from orion pax, but megatron also isn't stupid. how do you square those two facts? optimus really isn't helping his own case - being prime really did change him, not as literally as megatron thinks, but it is difficult to see your former friend in someone who has ceased acting like a person. see, selflessness might have always been a part of orion, but optimus feels obligated to ramp it up to a pathological degree, proportionally (in his opinion) to the amount of responsibility he has. to him it's the most obvious thing in the world, so he never lets his guard down and never explains it. but, and here's the thing, to megatron self-preservation and self-respect are markers of personhood (which he has had to viciously defend). so of course, looking at optimus 'sacrifice for the greater good' prime he would only see some creepy drone that doesn't think for itself and about itself.

[wurrrmlyy]

finished batch number 1... warrior catsifying transformers.......

Wheelie is a strange child by the border who speaks only in riddle and rhyme. i want 1 random adult warrior to be terrified of him. i always imagine wheelie has like this weird hoodie/hat thing that he can hide his face in when he gets embarrassed so i gave him the wheeljack head shadow

Hot Rod is Boxelderpaw... i wanted him to have a bug name. Boxelders are warm and fuzzy to me personally. i nearly gave him a weed name to be funny.

Arcee is Cichlidpaw... i wnated to give her a fish name. she deserves it. shes really good at climbing and likes to ambush people from above i just think its funny. she ayte 1 brick

Springer is Springpaw but he gets to be called Springer anyways... hes green. i was going to make him a chimera but then i got lazy....

im deciding on whether or not i want them to be canon clan cats but if they are im stuck on RiverClan or ShadowClan...

[dragqueenstarscream]

i don't think people realize how scary bulkhead can be under the right circumstances. like yeah, big strong tough destroyer robot, but people don't get how downright terrifying an angry bulkhead can be.

remember that part in tfp where he got injured and couldn't switch to his alt mode? imagine him being so angry at you for whatever reason that he doesn't even bother to switch to his alt mode, he just fucking charges you down. it doesn't matter what's in his way, because he'll crash right through it like it's made of paper. he might be lumbering and top heavy, but he's fuckin FAST when he's motivated enough, fast enough to give alt mode bee a run for his money. everything and everyone around him crumbles to the ground, a twisted mess of rubble and metal, all nothing but an obstacle as he does everything in his seemingly limitless power to hunt you down and end you.

don't piss off the nice ones.

[catnipsmoko]

So um.... Sg Thundercracker eyesore animation thingy below

TW flashing lights

TC what are you on

[transingthoseformers]

God why am I imagining Jazz being the guest of the day on a human run podcast because I feel like that could be way so so so much fun

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[grave-batz]

I am here to drop this random piece of oc lore before I vanish again 😎👍

[starscreamisreginageorge]

Facing the Past

Ratchet and Wheeljack go down to the sublevels to see what can be salvaged. Whilst down there the reality of Wheeljack's past hits them both.

For the first time in 50 cycles the mines were devoid of life, with energon now freely flowing again it was hardly worth the risk of gathering their sole resource. The equipment used to mine the materials however, that they could find use for. Which partially explained how Ratchet and Wheeljack had found themselves making their way down into the abandoned sublevels. At first the idea had been for a group half made up of ex-miners and  to go down and collect as much equipment as they could carry. That was until it had been pointed out that sending a group of people, of whom half of which would not know what the equipment was for, and the other half would not know whether it could be repurposed at all, might not be the most efficient method. So in the end Optimus had asked Wheeljack, arguably the only person on cybertron who fit into both groups, to head down and catalog everything. He wasn’t entirely sure why Ratchet had volunteered to help him but he wasn’t going to complain. The older mech was fast becoming a good friend to him, and he was keen to see his reaction to his old home. Though home was not really the right word for it. Sure he’d recharged down here, spent time with his friends, ate, all the things you did in your home. But could you ever call a place like that a home?  ‘Well here we are.’ he said as they stepped into a room full of recharge pods. At first Ratchet said nothing as he stood in the doorway. Trying to not let it bother him, Wheeljack made his way over to one of the pods. In the past he could have stepped inside it no problem. But now, well even if he somehow managed to squeeze his body inside he’d probably have to keep his head bent.

‘Wow I’d forgotten how small I used to be.’ he laughed as he glanced back at Ratchet.

‘These are sparkling pods.’ Ratchet’s words at a surface level sounded like a simple statement. But Wheeljack could tell there was more underneath them. You were smaller then, small as a sparkling. He didn’t want to think about it.

‘Come on the equipment lockers are down this way. That’ll be a good place to start.’ 

***

‘Oh and that’s where the mine shaft Jazz nearly died in was, you can tell because of the scorch marks.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure but it seemed like Wheeljack was talking more down here than he’d ever known him to before. Granted they hadn’t known each other that long. Still it wasn’t a comfortable chatter, more the kind you make when you’re trying to distract yourself. His servo’s were also moving seemingly non stop. Not the flapping motion he did when he was talking about his latest project, but a clenching, unclenching motion that seemed to indicate to Ratchet that he wasn’t happy to be back down here. Not that he could blame him. Still as much as he was eager to get out of there himself, seriously Ratchet was no believer in the supernatural but there was something haunted about this place, they should probably take a break.

‘I don’t know about you but I really could do with something to eat right about now.’

‘What? Oh yeah sure, go ahead.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, but he could have sworn Wheeljack had grown even more uncomfortable.

‘You should eat something too.’

‘Yeah alright. In a bit.’

‘Did you not bring your own supply? If you didn’t I can share mine but you really should…’

‘I’ve got my own supply.’ Wheeljack cut in. Ratchet blinked in surprise. He’d never heard Wheeljack snap at someone like that before. He’d been snarky at times, and he’d heard him grumble a little. But he’d never known him to snap like that.

‘Sorry.’ Wheeljack sighed. ‘It’s just. I don’t really like eating in front of others.’ Now Ratchet was curious.

‘How come?’ No response. ‘Has it got anything to do with your mask?’

‘It’s not a mask. I mean it is a mask, but it’s also my face… I’m not really sure how I can explain it.’

‘Well why don’t you show me.’ When Wheeljack didn’t move or speak, Ratchet added. ‘I’m a medic Wheeljack, whatever it is. I've probably already seen it, or I’ve seen worse.’ That seemed to convince the younger mech who reached up and grabbed the mask. This surprised Ratchet, he’d expected it to retract into his head like any other mask. Instead Wheeljack pulled it off along with what looked like most of his mandible. In fact, seeing him without it, Ratchet realised that the mask was the entire lower half of his face.

‘So doc, seen anything like this before?’ It was odd hearing him talk when he  had no mouth, his face ended part way down his nose ridge. Ratchet wasn’t even sure how it was possible. Whatever had done this to him must have hit him at a very specific angle so as to spare his vocalizer.

‘I can’t say I have. But how exactly does something like this happen?’

‘I was one of the first miners.’ Wheeljack began. ‘Back then no one really knew how the mines worked, so there were a lot of casualties. Not many of us survived, so I guess I’m lucky in a way.’

‘What happened?’

‘A drill exploded in my face. It wasn’t a big explosion. But the top half hit me with enough force that it tore my face off.’

‘And you never got it fixed.’

‘Couldn’t afford it. Since I could still work and there was no “further risk to life” any attempts to repair the damage would be considered cosmetic.’ For a moment Ratchet said nothing. He was angry, not at the younger mech, but at… Well at Sentinel mostly. How many miners had died under his care from mining injuries, when they should never have been down here in the first place. He still remembered that one femme that had been brought in, her spark by some twisted miracle had still been going. But her helm had been so badly crushed there was no way her processor could have survived. He had sat with her until she died, though he doubted she was able to think or feel anything the whole time. She should never have been down here, she never should have died. Not like that. What had been her name? J something. She hadn’t even had a real name.

‘Well we’d better eat something. Sooner we do that the sooner we can leave.’ he said breaking the silence. For a moment he thought Wheeljack would argue. But instead he simply nodded and took a seat on an upturned mine cart. Ratchet sat down next to him and watched as he pulled out a bag of liquid energon, with a long tube attached.

‘Uh do you want to eat before I do this?’ Wheeljack offered. ‘It’s just I know a lot of people get put off their own meals when I eat.’

‘Medic remember.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure how someone could give off the impression of a grin, especially when they had almost no face, but Wheeljack somehow managed it.

‘If you’re sure.’ Ratchet watched, now curious, as Wheeljack took the tube and tilting his head back began to feed it down his throat.

‘You know one of the good things about this is I can talk and eat at the same time.’ Wheeljack said.

‘So I can see.’ Ratchet said getting his own energon out.

‘Not that I often have anyone to talk to when I eat.’ Ratchet nodded and began to eat. It didn’t take him long to finish and when he did he noticed Wheeljack’s bag was only half empty.

‘Sorry it can take a while.’ Wheeljack said when he saw him looking.

‘It’s fine.’ Ratchet reassured him. ‘I guess you got a lot of scrap for,’ for what? The way he looked, the way he ate?

‘Everything?’ Ratchet nodded

‘Yeah.’ Wheeljack agreed. ‘I mean my friends were fine with it, newbies could be a bit funny about it. Guess I was an unpleasant reminder of how risky the job could be. But they got over it eventually, for the most part. It was Darkwing that gave me the most scrap for it. Kind of ironic for a guy who didn’t even have a face.’ Ratchet made a sound that could have been a snort or a scoff at that.

‘Of course he did.’ 

***

They were about to make their way up the stairs when Wheeljack stopped and looked back.

‘What is it?’ Ratchet asked.

‘Nothing I’m just… Is it weird to say goodbye to a place you hated?’ He watched the older mech’s face carefully, but found he couldn’t read it.

‘I have a feeling it’s more than just this place you’re saying goodbye to.’ Wheeljack wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but in a way he understood. Taking one last look around he silently said farewell to the place, before continuing up the stairs. 

‘You know I could probably fix your face if you’d like?’ Ratchet said, nearly causing Wheeljack to stop walking in surprise. He thought about it for a moment. Then shook his head.

‘I’ve been like this for most of my life. I know it sounds weird but, this is me. It’s not always the easiest thing to live with. But I can’t see myself being any other way.’ He expected Ratchet to argue.

‘Alright if you feel that way. But my offer will remain open if you ever change your mind.’

[askchilchuck]

If 7-11 is open 24 hours, why are there locks on their doors?

He doesn’t seem to know what a 7-11 is, but looks concerned why you’d be curious about their security systems.

[gravelsong]

HOLY SHIT

[they-hermes]

short technobot characterisations go:

scattershot is if springer was raised by prowl, a jock soldier with no social etiquette bc hes a nerd who studies mathematics and statistics all day. hes the only frat boy to ever leave a party to go study.

strafe is very sweet but because he is in a war they gave him a gun instead of anxiety meds, and seeing the damage he could do with one gun they gave him another. hes also a biologist and embodies that one guy on tiktok who keeps picking up animals barefoot in the florida everglades

nosecone finds all fiction literature very boring and prefers to read long winded academic essays all day. this is what gives him the patience to deal with his team everyday, hes used to heated arguments between people who can never admit they're wrong

lightspeed is one of the only scientists who appreciate social sciences, including astrology, and highlights his research with an intricate color coding system your average pinterest girly would only dream of having. hes a rousseau trapped in the body of a pythagoras

afterburner doesn't believe in deadlines and submits academic papers whenever he wants, nor does he believe in searching praise from professors and will fight them instead. this is why hes banished to archivist work to spend his days only ever organising data in giant empty halls where he cant fight people but jokes on them because the war let him back into society