justvibinowo

[justvibinowo]

I JUST NOTICED SOMETHING IN TF ONE

Upon my umpteenth rewatch I’ve found even more reason to love this movie. In the scene where Orion is talking to the high guard to get them to go to Iacon with him, we see Thundercracker in the background

Take note of his position— standing right next to that red seeker, behind Shockwave. This is important because the next time we see this same angle, with the same red seeker, behind Shockwave…

WHATS THIS????? HES NOW PURPLE?????? AND NOT ONLY PURPLE, BUT HIS WHOLE FRAME IS DIFFERENT???????

SKYWARP???????????????????????

DID TF ONE INTENTIONALLY MAKE AN ANIMATION ERROR AS A CALLBACK TO G1????????? Because we all know that they couldn’t color the seekers right to save the world, they would switch from scene to scene because they had the same model and just got colored in wrong BUT THIS??? They had to intentionally swap the models for this to happen

I LOVE THIS MOVIE MORE EACH TIME I WATCH IT

HASVRO IF YOU DONT MAKE A SEQUEL I WILL EAT YOUR FIRSTBORN

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Only day you can reblog this

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Teehee’s

If this flops I’ll cry

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so uhhhhh I haven’t been able to get this out of my head, and i think they should scissor. That was probably op’s intent from the start but let me beam the image into your head: Prowl grinding their valves (or valve equivalents) together while Jazz plays some real deep, fast paced base that they can feel throughout both their bodies. You always know when they’re fucking because there’s just rave music coming from the room

Jazz's valve should just be a built-in speaker no robussy at all it's just a regular speaker that produces nice bass vibrations because none of you are weird enough about the robot anatomy and I am. Prowl goes down on him and it's just Whistle playing and he pushes Jazz off the bed because his conjux is the silliest most unserious bed partner ever and Jazz is wheeze laughing on the floor

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evil transformers be like there is nothing more than meets the eye

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frothing at the mouth

I am normal about them 👍

Just their usual Monday

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reference to the fallen angel painting

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hi tranformers tumblr i thought too hard about skyfire and starscream and now im sobbing

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I LOVE GAY PEOPLE

Mirage doesnt look consistent but idc look at the sillies

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I’ve seen a few posts that think miko was the one to teach OP the “nothing much, double Dutch” response because she is a wild card and a menace, but being honest, I personally can’t really see her saying that.

you know who probably would tho?

Jack

I blame him

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When Optimus Prime walks by

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i physically cannot get enough of this fic, you do NOT understand

I have reread it multiple times by now, and every update makes me lose my mind just a little bit more (in a good way)

Slowly but Also Like All at Once

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

noah diaz x mirage (the ship of dreams or whatever that old bitch said in titanic)

warnings : reek gets his own flirt on, noah is tired™️, and breanna diaz is here but she ain't here to play

side note: this fic is also on ao3!

Noah’s kind of glad that as soon as he has the apartment door unlocked, Reek shoves him aside and barges his way inside like he owns the place. Because not a second later, a chancla comes flying across the room and slaps into the wall not one foot away from Reek’s head— the poor guy freezing up immediately, his eyes wide.

“Ma!” Noah admonishes, pocketing his keys and pushing past Reek so he can set down his box of electronics atop the short bookcase his ma insists on using as a foyer table. “You can’t just be whippin’ those around! You’re gonna seriously injure somebody that ain’t me one of these days.”

His ma has both her hands over her mouth, like she recognizes her mistake too, and when she lowers them, Noah can see she has the decency to at least look sheepish about nearly clocking his friend with her slipper. Still, it doesn’t stop her from also outright glaring at him— like it’s his fault.

“Pero escuché tu voz, so I thought it was you, and you deserve it,” she snaps at him pointedly, before she looks to Reek. “Reek, honey, I’m so sor—” she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp at the sight of all the blood on the lower half of Reek’s face.

“What the hell happened?” she demands instead, clearly concerned. Although the concern doesn’t last very long. Because she seems quick to come to her own conclusions and narrows her eyes at the both of them.

“You boys weren’t out gettin’ into trouble, were you? I swear to God, you two are gonna—”

The loud slam of a door sounds from down the hall.

“Is that Sonic?” Kris cries, rushing into the room like the namesake should be his instead.

Noah grins widely, toeing off his sneakers and simultaneously slipping off his backpack— letting it fall to the floor beside the bookcase with a small thud— just in time to catch his little brother who comes flying at him and nearly knocks the breath straight out of him with what feels like the world’s tightest hug.

“You missed it!” Kris proclaims eagerly, pulling back only far enough to look up at Noah. “I almost beat Bowser! I was so close!”

“Damn, really?” Noah inquires, reaching up to ruffle the kid’s curls affectionately. “That’s cool, bro. Just a few more tries and you gon’ get his ass. I know it.”

Kris beams and pulls away completely, releasing Noah, before he looks over at Reek and frowns, one brow arching.

“Who beat the shit out of you?” he queries openly.

“Language, Kris!” their ma shouts from the kitchen, where she’s already gathered some napkins and is bent over under the kitchen sink, probably looking for that bottle of rubbing alcohol they keep down there. “Reek, sweetie, come over here so we can get your face cleaned up.”

Reek relaxes— his momentary stupor fading— and his lips curl up into a dreamy sort of smile as he kicks off his sneakers then floats across the room to lean against the kitchen table.

Noah narrows his eyes at the other man, already knowing where this is going.

Noah’s ma slaps Reek’s knees open so she can step in between them to be able to reach his face— she’s already kicking up a fuss, telling Reek he has to take better care of himself— and Reek, of course, can’t help the self-satisfied little smirk he shoots in Noah’s direction.

Noah’s hands ball into fists at his sides.

“You hit on my mama one time today man, just one, and I’m throwing your ass out the window,” Noah warns him. Because, unfortunately, it’s a thing.

Reek, the absolute bastard, swears that one day he’s going to bag Breanna Diaz.

Which is absurd.

The only way that’s ever going to happen is if it’s right over Noah’s dead body.

“Ay, Noah, don’t be ridiculous,” his ma chastises casually, shaking her head as she dabs at Reek’s nose with a wad of wet napkins— completely oblivious to the fact that Reek is practically preening under her care. “Reek, how did this happen?”

Before Reek can respond, Kris looks up at Noah with a frown.

“And why didn’t you come home for dinner last night?” he questions. Their ma scoffs.

“You mean why he didn’t come home at all,” she points out, glancing over with a look on her face that clearly reads as disapproval. “You could at least call, mijo.”

Noah releases a sharp sigh, his shoulders drooping as he deflates under the weight of the guilt.

Kris wanders away from him, sauntering over to their ma and Reek so he can get a closer look at the damage on Reek’s face.

“I know, ma,” Noah acquiesces, defeated and exhausted, even as he reaches up behind his neck to grab at the collar of his Henley so he can pull it off— he’s been wearing it for over twenty-four hours at this point, and all he really wants is a shower. “I’m sorry. I just… I got caught up.”

His ma looks over for a second, both brows arched, before she returns to the task at hand.

“Ooh,” Kris teases. “Is it a girl? It’s a girl, isn’t it? What’s her name?”

Noah rolls his eyes at his baby brother’s antics, reaching down to unbuckle his belt and laughing when his ma presses a napkin soaked in rubbing alcohol to Reek’s nose, pulling an incredibly high-pitched yelp from the man’s throat.

Reek narrows his eyes at Noah.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?”

Noah grins crookedly at him, his shirt and belt clutched in one hand.

“It’s hilarious, dude.”

The slow menacing look-and-smirk combination that distorts Reek’s face is quite frankly terrifying and Noah stills, tensing.

Reek leans back, just slightly, and his gaze slides over to Kris.

“Nah, li’l man, there ain’t no girl,” he drawls wickedly. “Our boy Noah over here, he’s a man of taste. He’s got a preference for something different; little metal, some rubber, six cylinders.”

Noah wants to wrangle his thick ass neck with his bare hands.

Kris’ lips purse to the side, his forehead scrunching— clearly bewildered.

“For the last time, man,” Noah snaps. “I didn’t fu—” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, throwing his hands into the air— completely done with trying to deny it any further— before he exhales at length.

Reek’s just going to believe what he wants anyway. Fuck it.

Noah’s ma glances over at him again, one perfectly plucked brow arched in question.

“I’ma go shower,” Noah decides, then points a long finger at Reek. “You better not still be in my damn house by the time I get out. I swear to God, bro.” He crosses the room and pretends not to hear Kris asking Reek what he meant by metal, rubber, and cylinders.

“Ay, mijo, por qué eres tan grosero?” his ma calls after him as he goes, and Noah does his best to not react when he hears her add on a quieter, “Well, there’s clearly no girl. He wouldn’t have a stick up his ass if he was seein’ any action.”

Reek’s raucous laughter echoes down the hall, following Noah right into the bathroom.

Noah slams the door closed behind him.

“Carajo, Noah! Don’t be slammin’ doors in my house!”

Noah huffs, dropping his shirt into the hamper that’s wedged in between the toilet and the sink— where it’s not supposed to be, because Kris has a habit of getting up during the night to piss, and being half-asleep, he drips all over the place. It’s nasty. His little brother’s kind of a slob but being the baby, their ma just keeps letting him get away with it.

Noah hangs his belt off of one of the hooks behind the door before he turns to the mirrored vanity cabinet and takes a second to study his reflection.

His curls are wild and he’s pretty sure he can still spot sand in there. The bags under his eyes are puffy and a slightly deeper color than usual and— Noah leans in closer— his lips look like they’ve been bitten raw, no doubt courtesy of the wild rollercoaster ride of emotions he’d experienced overnight.

All in all, he looks like shit.

With an utterly drained sigh, Noah slips out of both his jeans and boxer briefs and tosses them into the hamper as well, before he throws open the shower curtain and steps into the bathtub.

He showers rather quickly— which is kind of a miracle because he’d honestly thought getting all the sand out of his hair would take a lot longer. He washes up in a sort of automatic way, his hands and body going through the motions, while his mind wanders.

He finds himself going over every single moment of the last twenty-four hours with a fine-toothed comb. From heading into the garage the day before, wondering if he’d ever see his mech friend again. To Mirage’s sudden miraculous return— which Noah can still hardly believe even happened. To spending the night with the bot on that beach in Long Island under the lighthouse.

And getting the chance to meet Ratchet. Noah makes a mental note to thank the medic when or even if he gets the chance.

Ratchet had managed to do what Noah couldn’t; fix Mirage.

Ratchet had been the one to right Noah’s colossal fuck-up with the plate he’d cracked in half.

Ratchet had given him his best friend back.

Noah owes him a lot.

His mind shifts then, turning his attention to the metaphorical elephant in the room; the offer to join the autobots on their, hopefully simple, scouting mission to Colorado.

He purposely ignores the tiny voice in the back of his head— the one that, obnoxiously, sounds like Reek— that tries to remind him the mission isn’t the only metaphorical elephant in the room.

There’s also the matter of Mirage’s completely spontaneous flirting.

Because, yeah, Noah can definitely recognize it for what it is now. He might not have any game himself but he’s not that dense.

Plus, Reek had clearly read and interpreted it as just so— coming to the assumption after hearing just one of Mirage’s lines.

The man had badgered Noah the whole way up to the apartment over it; over whether or not Noah had ‘fucked the car.’

He’s honestly more surprised over the fact that the man had managed to go straight from ‘the car talks’ to ‘did you fuck it, Noah’ than over the fact that Reek apparently has zero issues with Noah theoretically fucking a car.

Which is wild. Especially seeing as Reek is completely unaware that the aforementioned car is actually a twelve foot alien.

But he’s not thinking about any of that though.

No. He’s thinking about whether or not he’s ready to drop everything— drop his entire life, not that he really has much going on at the moment— to go on an impromptu road trip with a bunch of aliens. To the Rockies. To possibly locate another alien. One that may or may not be one of the bad guys.

“Fuck,” Noah sighs, reaching out to turn off the water.

He wonders when his life got so complicated.

Unbidden, a vivid image of Mirage fucking with him as he’d tried to jimmy the lock and open the door on the Porsche simultaneously comes to mind.

Right.

That’s when.

Noah pulls a towel out of the bathroom closet— a blue one because his ma has them color-coordinated and assigned; Noah’s are blue, Kris’ are green, and hers are red. The woman’s surprisingly laid back about a lot of stuff— for example, Kris being an utter slob— but bathroom linens are not one of them.

Noah’s not sure why and at this point in his life, he’s kind of scared to ask. It’s easier to just roll with it.

He dries off then wraps his towel around his waist and steps back over to the mirror so he can try and get his curls under control. If he doesn’t, they’ll just dry up all frizzy and crazy. And he hates it when that happens. Because he’s kind of lazy and he won’t bother trying to fix it, he’ll just wear a cap over it every time he steps out of the house until he washes his hair again.

When he’s satisfied, Noah turns and steps out of the bathroom.

“Damn, mami, that’s cold,” he instantly hears— Reek’s voice coming from the kitchen. “Why you gotta do me like that?”

The asshole is still in his house, hitting on his ma. The kitchen’s out of view from where Noah’s standing just outside the bathroom so he can’t see his friend but he narrows his eyes in that general direction anyway.

Then, an idea pops into his head. And his lips curl.

“Reek, man if you don’t get yo’ ass outta my house, I’ma tell Rosie from downstairs about your special friendship with that white girl from Staten Island!”

He hears an abrupt thud from the kitchen and watches gleefully as Reek trips his way across the room, apologizing to his ma and telling her he has to go because he thinks he, ‘left the stove on.’

Chump.

Noah grins when the front door slams, signifying the other man’s departure. Then he spins around and strolls languidly into his bedroom, lips pursed smugly. He shuts his bedroom door behind him with a foot so he can change into a fresh pair of boxer briefs then throws on a random pair of basketball shorts and a wife beater, before immediately throwing himself face first onto his bed, groaning loudly as his body relaxes into the mattress.

He gazes up at the stuff on his wall— his Wu-Tang Clan poster and his vinyl sleeves— for a moment. 

But he must fall asleep immediately after that because one second he’s blinking at the Puerto Rican flag on his wall and the next, he’s waking up on his side, facing the bedroom door, after hearing his name be called in a low sort of hiss.

Kris is standing underneath the frame of his bedroom door, staring at him with a sort of apprehensive look on his face. He keeps glancing back over his shoulder to his own room every other second.

“Hmm?” Noah slurs, still half-asleep and struggling to keep his eyes open. “Wassup, Tails?”

Kris’ wide-eyed gaze snaps back over to him.

“Dude, Knuckles is in my room.”

Noah groans, lifting a hand to wave the kid away.

“That don’t even make no sense, Kris,” he grunts out. “He wouldn’t fit.” With that said, Noah pulls his pillow out from beneath his face and covers his head with it, hoping his little brother will take it for what it is; a dismissal.

“He says he’s taking you to Colorado?”

It takes a second for Kris’ words to register.

But when they do, Noah’s pretty sure he sets the world record for the fastest anyone’s ever jumped out of bed

[justvibinowo]

Re blogging does future reference

Mandalorian Armor, a simple guide

Oh dear. Several months late, but here we go. This will be a broad term overview of mando armor in canon at the moment, not an exhaustive list. Feel free to skip “materials & history” if you’d just like some more concrete guidelines and refs! 

(Remember to click on the images for a better look!)

Material & History

A Small Intro Course

Mandalorian armor is supposed to be made out of beskar, an alloy (and yes all beskar is an alloy in disney canon (at least as of May 2021), like steel for example. Yes even “pure” beskar). The secrets of how to make it is limited to the Mandalorians, and the materials used to make it are most likely limited to Mandalore or the Mandalore system. It’s been in confirmed use as an armor material for at least 900 years & can take straight blaster bolts or hold off the circulating energy blade of a lightsaber for short periods of time, possibly until the beskar heats up enough to loose its integrity, but the heat would most likely cause serious damage to the wearers body before that.

Beskar armor is most often inherited, passed from generation to generation and reforged to suit the current wearers needs. It’s seen as passing down the history, the battles and the will of those who have worn it before and making it your own. However the material is rare, possibly because the mines have run dry ages ago (old EU), or because war and/or the New Mandalorians stopping production. The Empire interfering by taking over Mandalore and trying to get their hands on as much beskar as possibly and then later “glassing” the planet while hunting its only known creators surely did not help either, in any case.

This means that not all Mandalorians had access to the material, or at least large enough amounts to make a full suit of armor. This lead to the make of “impure” beskar that can take less of a brunt & armor made of other metals such as durasteel. This is most likely what makes up the majority of Din’s kit, beyond the helmet and possibly the chest piece, when he’s introduced in S1 and he still wears pieces that might be one of these materials as of Season 2. 

Characters like Sabine Wren, Bo-Katan Kryze and Boba Fett all inherited their armor from their _aliit  _(clan/family) through several generations and it’s most likely already pure beskar based on its age and how it reacts to blasterfire.

The armor is most often painted and there are various designs and colors that indicate personality, achievements or allegiances, but that would have to be another post. (Would anyone like a post on Mandalorian armor fashion? Because I have thoughts)

Helmet

Keep reading

[justvibinowo]

The feelings this concept makes me feel are big and good, I freakin love this

Me??? Combining my two hyperfixations together??? More likely than you think!

A demon killed Ezra's family, so he became an orphan, just going from city to city smuggling what he could and trying to survive on his own. One day, he was attacked by a demon, but a demon slayer helped him and killed the demon. Turns out the demon slayer was the Thunder Hashira, Kanan Jarrus. Learning that there were people who could fight and win against demons made Ezra want to become a slayer. Kanan didn't want to take Ezra as an apprentice, but Ezra followed him incessantly until he agreed. After all his training, he passed the final selection and decided that he wanted to be the youngest hashira ever. He never stopped to follow Kanan, and Kanan's friends, around.

Sabine comes from a family of very talented and accomplished artists and she wanted to be an artist herself. But one day, when she was coming back home with a friend, a demon attacked. The demon killed her friend and it would have killed her, but two slayers appeard and killed the demon. They said they would accompanied her home and on the way they explained to her about demons, the demon slayer corp, the upper moons and all of that. Sabine, who never heard of any of this was extremely shocked. She decided she wanted to help fight the evil of this world and keep people safe. When she told her family about what happened, they didn't seemed surprised, they have known about the existence of demons, but tried to keep it from the younger members of the family. When Sabine said she wanted to become a demon slayer, they forbade her. She then runaway. With no idea of what to do to become a slayer and no one to teach her, she spent years developing her own fighting and breathing technique. She occasionally ran into the two slayers who saved her that night, and showed them her technique. They were very impressed and told her to participate in the final selection. She survived it and became a very skilled slayer. Her color breathing technique became notorious and despite not being a hashira herself yet, she befriended three hashira because she was constantly assigned missions with them. The hashira were Kanan Jarrus, the Thunder Hashira, Hera Syndulla, the Wind Hashira and Zeb, the Beast Hashira.

I want to draw the three hashira, but idk, lemme know what you guys think!

[justvibinowo]

I go to the dreamnotfound tag for ONE SECOND and am just BOMBARDED with gnf twerking and I feel like I might actually cry like,,, wtf, man, why are do that???? Please,, no,, I can’t do this today, please help

[justvibinowo]

This KILLED ME on GOD I—

“They don’t leave their own behind… most of the time.”

“You tried to kill us. We didn’t have a choice.”

“…and I did?”

[justvibinowo]

My thoughts exactly

me watching Crosshair roast Hunter for absolutely everything that he did to his own brother