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Lord Megatron has stepped on a Lego block, now I , Starscream, am the new leader of the Decepticons!

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I heart you pinktimus prime… 💕

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working on tf animatic !!!

few of the frames i've done so far :))

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whens megatron coming back

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the art of malicious compliance

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Motivational words I did during my finals 😼

Yes, Bee is speaking enchanting table

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​Starscream using his last braincell to justify his traitorous schemes against Megatron:

Short lil’ animatic

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I forgive your fears, for they were born of love

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happy pride everyone <3

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They’re so silly. I love them

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Starscream fcking sucks i love him

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school's back so my posts will either be sparse or just straight up incredibly rushed😭

part 2 is now up!

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Vroom vroom

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Might as well post this here too lol

I think he might be a truck, idk tho

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suguru. g loves to take care of his hair. and he loves taking care of yours as if it was his own

The bathwater’s gone lukewarm by now, but you’re too drowsy to care, your back resting against the broad, bare warmth of Suguru’s chest. His knees are bent by your hips, legs stretched on either side of yours, anchoring you in the water like a cradle. You sigh as his fingers part your hair again, slow and deliberate.

“Lean back a little.” He murmurs, voice soft and low by your ear.

You obey, and he tilts your head gently with one hand while the other cups water, pouring it over your crown. It trickles down in warm rivulets, trailing your temples and ears, dripping from your chin back into the tub. His fingers follow, combing through soaked strands like he’s sculpting something precious. No rush. No roughness. Just patience, reverence.

The scent of his shampoo lingers in the air, faintly floral and familiar now because it lingers on your pillow, too. He rubs the lather in with careful circles, massaging your scalp like it’s an art form, thumbs pressing just right, knuckles never tugging.

“I read somewhere that you’re supposed to work the roots, not the ends.” He says absently, and you can feel him smiling against the back of your head. “If you scrub the ends, you just dry them out. They’re delicate. You gotta treat them like silk.”

“Mmm.” You hum, eyes closed. “You treat my hair better than I do.”

“Obviously.” He snorts, but he kisses your temple right after.

When he rinses the suds, he cups your forehead to keep the water out of your eyes. Every movement is unhurried. He doesn’t speak much while he does this, but he doesn’t need to. It’s all there in his touch: the way his nails skim your scalp like whispers, how he runs his fingers through each strand to make sure it’s smooth and tangle-free before he conditions it.

You’ve never seen him carelessly do anything with his hair. And now, with yours, he treats it like an extension of his own pride. Like it’s sacred. Like you are.

“You always take this long?” You murmur, lazily opening one eye.

He leans down, his nose brushing your wet shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m not doing the whole routine. I usually mask, oil, and steam too.”

You laugh, but you already know you’d let him. You’d sit between his knees in every bath for the rest of your life if he let you.

And the way his arms curl loosely around your waist, holding you there like you belong, maybe he would.

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Here’s my take on this ☺️🧡

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I bet my fav pair of pants he would make a tiktok account and post his human on it :"D

( the human is nervous🥹 )