#hot rod reference

[ruviart]

Nice recovery 😉

[sirenetica]

Tango (of the Tek variety)

[eggariesalad]

roddy ref ! because this guy is so hard to draw backside ver and references to his limbs are coming soon

face close upe...

[robot-reference]

This year he was ready ᕦ⁠(⁠ò⁠_⁠ó⁠ˇ⁠)⁠ᕤ

[devilart2199-aibi]

Can we get a better quality version of that Hot Rod/Rodimus? I always need more content of him

Of course! :D (This is the one you meant right?) This was my first attempt at making a Roddy design in my style! (He's Hot Rod here...i think, i drew this quite a bit ago so I can't remember exactly what i was leaning towards haha) I'll be doing another take on him once I've read some more comics with him in them! 😊

[sgrplmjnxxx]

But, ooh, I'd die to find out~

[megasxlr-officialconceptart]

"OK, Where's First Gear Again?" Coop's Car/ Cuda Hot Rod Ref Sheet

[transingthoseformers]

Sorry this got long. This idea is fun though.

All of the DJD have just accepted that Ultra Magnus is Their Autobot and Minimus is making an effort to make small talk during his monthly information exchange phone calls with Kaon. He does a lot of traveling alone and the DJD are similarly isolated so they are each others very limited socialization circle.

Kaon it turns out is a bit of a gossip and Ultra Magnus attempts to respond in kind by exchanging small bits of gossip about things he overhears as well about the Autobots without revealing who he is discussing. Kaon is thrilled because he knows all the Decepticon relationship drama and the Autobot is new and fascinating fodder. This leads to Ultra Magnus making a point to listen into others discussions and somehow befriend Hot Rod who knows everybody it seems and is much more social than he is so shows up to chat about things which Ultra Magnus carefully listens to.

Tarn, who has decided Magnus is his rival at this point eavesdrops on his and Kaon's gossiping and upon hearing of this racer who keeps popping up and leaning on Magnus's desk and touching his arm and fluttering his spoiler he realizes instantly and viscerally hates that this is clearly flirtation. And he is not having it.

He makes a point to listen in as well and takes notes seething and fantasying about murder not realizing he's jealous.

Ultra Magnus has actually wanted advice on something with Hot Rod, so when Tarn picks up in a snit, he thinks it is the perfect opportunity. Magnus had been assigned to work with a small crew with Kup and an adjunct of sorts to the Wreckers. He doesn't have experience in small command structure but Tarn does. So he asks for Tarn's advice and Tarn at first intends not to but senses this could be a weakness so all purring menace he offers Magnus advice mentioning verbal praise and if necessary like with Kaon physical comfort and cuddling can be good for morale and team bonding. He also mentions a shared aocial activity. For him weekly worship sessions but Magnus believes this to be "game nights" that Kaon mentions.

Tarn basically helps Magnus make some friends.

Ultra Magnus becomes known due to Tarn for offering very sincere but stiff hugs that have made many people cry. It confused Whirl so badly during the first time he developed a Pavlovian response of going limp during scheduled Magnus Hugs and Verbal and Physical Validation sessions.

Hot Rod thinks it is hilarious but has sniffled a bit during Cuddle Time. The Wreckers with Magnus get an interesting reputation.

Tarn still hates Hot Rod from afar and the second he hears a hint of a friendship with Drift convinces Magnus that clearly Hot Rod has feelings for him and it should be encouraged. Magnus feels this may be an inappropriate involvement in his subordinates lives but Tarn is determined and the two of them clumsily matchmake Driftrod and eventual Dratchrod to rid Tarn of competition.

They have also, without Tarn realizing it, started to have lovely weekly discussions about law, philosophy, music, and the Autobot Code and Towards Peace which Magnus has memorized to make sure he can join these discussions on equal footing.

The rest of the DJD know him by name and if they encounter him on neutral planets greet him. Which actually happens with his squad running into Kaon and Dominus. Kaon brightens at the sight of him and knows Hot Rod immediately. Mostly from Tarn's murder/conspiracy board they all got used to and were betting which way it would go until the match making was successful.

They get a drink, and Minimus slips up, saying something just like himself, and Dominus has a horrifying realization at the same point Tarn walks in and instantly focuses on Magnus and is vaguely threatening to Hot Rod who keeps frowning at him until he brightens and pegs him as "that guy who smuggled me into Nyon". He's strangely delighted to see Tarn and says he'd never expected to be able to thank him for the "whole, making sure I was born thing." This reveals a bit of Tarn's outlaw backstory when he helped save a whole nursery of newborns. This makes the DJD members gape, and Minimus looks at him admiringly. Hot Rod offers to buy them all a drink and uses Drift's cars to do it.

Hot Rod calls him out on the matchmaking and thanks him because he knows Magnus didn't come up with it on his own. He also talks wistfully about maybe all of them getting a drink together once the war is over, which throws them. Though Hot Rod says once it is settled, they'll all be one people again, eventually, right? They're only enemies until it ends.

They part but the DJD are a little off their game especially Tarn who is still reeling from Magnus smiling at him for remembering his order and, out of habit to one up him and drawing from dramatic old stories he enjoys, pulling out his seat and act more like a suitor than a rival of sorts.

In this world this DJD learn of the war ending from Magnus who messages them that leadership is needed to help settle the Decepticons who were taken by Galvatron, that Megatron is missing, and there is a ceasefire and representation is needed. The DJD immediately rush to Cybertron and the Decepticons are not rounded up but instead huddled into one part of the map and the Autobots the other while Tarn terrifies everyone into order under Soundwave, his, and Starscreama argumentative leadership and focuses on revovering Megatron who is missing.

This is also when they play catchup and learn things like Optimus being dead (good riddance), the world got renewed (positive), and Hot Rod is now a Prime (what). Rodimus goes and meets them since Bumblebee is a bit intimidated with Drift (who they still don't recognize hovering behind Rodders wide eyed). They act formally in front of the others but once alone the DJD who are all awkward fucks have like two friends out of their coworkers and they are Magnus and Hot Rodimus by proxy.

Drift is understandable panicking over his Conjunx to Be inviting the DJD to his ceremony "if the war doesn't erupt in the next couple weeks" and excitedly telling them about plans to go after the KOC which intern Forestock is interested in and about asking "Drift's old doctor crush" on a date. Helex wishes Drift luck which he just sort of nods at receiving.

Dominus-Vos is not having a good time meanwhile when he receives a ping from Prowl.

Magnus accidentally by dragging Tarn into it and Tarn wanting no interruptions tracking down Megatron gets a formal ceasefire because Tarn now instinctively has to one up Magnus and his treaty choices have to be examined and dissected. Bumblebee is startled but thrilled. Starscream and Prowl are vaguely horrified. Rodimus is used to this. Soundwave is strangely impressed and hopeful by the Decepticon motivation and law already being considered and the fact Tarn is actually acting like a respectable member of command.

Then the neutrals arrive and nobody likes them. Pettiness and spite have always been great unifying forces for Decepticons and they prefer their familiar enemies to the NAILs by a long shot.

A exhausted rMegatron and a revived Optimus are both taken to the temporary shared housing of their factions to find a very different arrangement.

Ah yes, Mags is The DJD's Autobot. Delightful

Omg aww yes. Yes they are. Monthly information exchange phone calls sdgfsdf.

Yesss, Kaon is just eating this drama up, and Mags is funneling more to him

Ah yes, Tarn. Rival. Mags is your rival, suuuure. That's why you're jealous of Roddie.

awWWW YES HE'S ASKING TARN FOR LEADERSHIP ADVICE YES

Ok Tarn that's some pretty cool advice I expected worse for some reason, fUCK YES MAGS IS UTILIZING SAID GOOD ADVICE

WHIRL NEEDS THOSE HUGS SO MUCH

cuddle time has broke me. That's one of my favorites cliches in my internal plotlines because it's adorable as hell.

Of course, Tarn shipping Driftrod (and eventually Dratchetrod) because he wants his perceived competition out of the way. And TarnMags are doing said shipping together, aww.

oooo possible accidental dates?? OWO?

That's adorable, yes! He's Their favorite autobot!

oh minimus, oh Dominus, yes. Yes

Something just clicked for Roddie and he's great for it. And of course he's using his sugar daddy's Drift's money. That's so sweet.

Tarn, again, is having so many emotions about this.

YES, IT'S MAGS WHO TELLS THEM. MAKES SENSEEE

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered scenarios where Tarn (and maybe the whole DJD) were made officially part of decepticon command

Rodimus is the one goddamn extrovert the DJD knows well and it's hilarious.

You know the more here I sit and think about it that's fucking hilarious.

"Me (decepticon to autobot, M) and my fiance (autobot, M) are getting married in three weeks. I just learned that fiance is planning to invite the fragging DJD, who are apparently his friends, to our wedding. Am I going to die or some scrap????

Awww yes.

oh no, not a ping from prowl

Sdfgds. Yes. they accidentally-ed their way into this beautiful mess, w.

Careful don't let Starscream and Prowl agree too much, that's how we get situations.

He is! Tarn is acting pretty well, all mecha called Tarn considered.

Then the neutrals arrive and nobody likes them.

This tends to be the trend in most fics and some canon I see.

Omg yes that's adorable

Yes Meggsie and Oppy have woken up to an interesting world indeed

[lev-dopa]

Adding on this hellsite my own version of Rodimus, imagined after lots of years after the Lost Light journey.

[alicefromwhichplanet]

Chapter 3 Strika: The General

Finally I finished Strika’s biography. This story is by far a transformers femmes story I spent the most efforts on, and also contains my efforts to write a heterosexual love story I consider natural and true.

I want to write about the life of a contradictory character, a rebellious lower-class worker and a revolutionary, an excellent commander and ruthless warrior, an enthusiast and victim of war, and above all, also a woman. Strika’s character in my version is heavily inspired by Soviet Union women soldiers.

Excerpt:

After hanging up, general Strika receives an order from Megatron to escape. Her spaceship is disabled. So the only possible way to do it is rushing out in disguise without her fellow soldiers. She looks around the spaceship where she started her career as a general. She looks around at her remaining subordinates. She recalls the days serving in a mine, chanting songs of complaints and curses, and the day listening to Megatron’s speech for the first time. She recalls her life as a much-feared decepticon general, all the glories she earned and victories she won. To her surprise, she cannot really remember any accurate feelings she had at any time of victory. It seems that to this point, all the past glory of victories became dull, lost in the fading memories of her weary mind. Pain was so enduring, like a Cybersnail’s patient move. Happiness was so brief, like a petro-rabbit’s tail brushing through autumn steppes. She looks back in those moments, trying to catch a glimpse of happiness, but all she can think of are things as small as that dawn by the lake, when the whole world stopped their quarrels, all that remained to her was Lugnut’s gentle touch and heavy breathes.

Two must-listened songs to accompany this story:

1. "А зори здесь тихие" (The Dawns Here Are Quiet), a song from a 1972 Soviet film, featuring women soldiers in WWII.

Lyrics excerpt: (translated by me from Chinese translation)

The dawns here are quiet,

Mists are like bandages entwined,

Lakes reflect rays of blood-like morning glows.

The dawns here are quiet,

Red morning lights flow from the apple trees,

Glorious sun burns like stings of bees.

2. "¡Viva la Gloria!"

Lyrics excerpt:

Gloria, viva la Gloria

You blast your name

In graffiti on the walls

Falling in broken glass and

Slashing through these spirits

I can hear it like a jilted crowd.

Gloria, where are you Gloria?

You found a home

In all your scars and ammunition

You made your bed in salad days

Amongst the ruins

Ashes to ashes of our youth

[mysticraven17]

Lightning rod ⚡️🏎️

_____

So, this was day 7 of coaster may-nia, a challenge where you personify a coaster every day. However im not doing it every day cus i am not stressing myself out doing daily prompts, so instead i chose to do a few that i was interested in/could fit in my stories. Lightning Rod of course was day 7, and it's a coaster I’ve had in my bucket list for a while. Even though they changed the lift to a regular chain lift, it still looks like a fun ride and I can’t wait to get the chance to ride it someday!

Anyway here’s my character, he’s an electric eel named Leon who loves cars and spends his time tinkering and racing with his beloved hot rod, which he of course calls “Lightning Rod.” He’s a hobbyist who doesn’t care about the fame, and he’s always eager to help another hot rod racer out. He’s very upbeat and extroverted, and will absolutely talk your head off about anything. He’s a laud back guy who’s pretty down to earth, hes someone you could definitely chill and have a beer with.

[ojamayellow]

i feel more comfortable now to discuss my transformers fanon but I don't even have a Proper plot. I only have one human sorted so far. I only really have character personalities, teams and motivations. Only SOME designs.

super important though that there is skystar yuri + divorce.

[moosekababs]

moodboard for when character A refers to character B as "theirs" i.e. "his human"

[robot-reference]

Alrighty everyone a little different from the usual, I commissioned a piece from @salsadifragola

featuring a very charming and distinguished gentleman and I had to make him a reality

Considering the effort I put in to making this I thought it would be a waste if only I used it; would people be interested in a free pattern/tutorial? (Final version will have some slight differences, and it is a bit fiddly so probably not super beginner friendly)

[ghostarii]

SILK STRINGS & PEARL RINGS, SCARAMOUCHE

ʚɞ kisses with the weight of pain and bruises colored like love — his heart hits like a punch and you’re the sucker to catch it.

WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, referred to as kuni, impact play, asphyxiation, biting / marking, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, praise, creampie, overstimulation, more scaramouche than wanderer, minors & dc antis do not interact!

NOTE ݈݇- hey . . hey . . how y’all doin ^w^ ive been gone a while becuz tumblr wasnt it anymore nd life was lifeing ! am back now bc i missed u guys nd missed being a freak :c theres sm of u now — thank u sm for 900+! ! i loveee youu loads xoxoxooo Anywayyy i hope u enjoy this quick littl drabble to flex my muscles :3

WORD COUNT ݈݇- 1.1k

LIMBS LIKE STRINGS OF silk: soft, pliable, and delicate, all in the hands of an unworthy sinner. His rough callouses rub burning patches on your skin as he runs his hands across your supple skin. Even the finest silks blemish under unclean hands and you are no exception — you're the example.

The name he bears stumbles out of your mouth in broken gasps and he only wishes you would shut up; he tells you again and again in hopes of your compliance, to no avail. Your voice is a constant reminder of who he is to you and, otherwise, who he’s destroying for superficial, fleeting pleasure. He’s far too deep to pull away now and scurry away—he has no choice but to double down and bump the sense out of your brain in hopes of fogging your memory. It works in a skewed way: condensing your mind to the two syllables of his name. “Kuni! Kun—i!! God, Kuni—!!!” Your pitiful screeches play on broken recurrences.

And as the master weaver he is, your pleasure is sewn up to its peak for what feels like the millionth time. Your body quakes and trembles, quivering under his weight and attempting an escape jaggedly. A hearty, choked-up whine jumps out of your chest, “Sto—I can’t! K-Kuni, please—!”

Deaf ears ignore your cries and pound deeper, harder—slamming his pelvic bone against your twitching clit. His hands move from the expanse of the mattress to your neck: pressing you into the mattress with pressure on the sides of your neck just right. “Shut the fuck up,” he grits, rolling his hips into you. “Just shut up and take it.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, lashes fluttering rapidly as, quickly, your brain computes nothing but pleasure.

His hips snap against you with such intensity, that it makes you feel like he hates you. It borders on painful, eliciting sharp lightning rods to pierce and prod around your body. The sheer weight of this impassioned thrusting has you jolting up the bed and thrashing around under him, looking to escape the white-hot harvest of pleasure pulsing in your pussy.

On top of you, he burns a pretty rose that can only be described as fire. The tight grip around his cock fills his head with foggy air—but it's the wetness that spools around his length: splat, splat, splat, that sings out the lost orgasms from rounds previous and ample arousal. It’s that that has him grumbling out blurbs of pleasure, chasing his orgasm that rests in your depths.

Every sensation is heightened tenfold with the ever-demanding charge that is being fed in your tummies. Every pulse, squeeze, leak, prod—all of it is akin to plugging you up to an orgasm charge-port and capping off the battery.

It’s too much; you scream that out enough until you can't gather enough air to breathe, let alone speak. Kuni agrees with you but he really, really, wishes you would shut up. He can't think and with every sound you make, he’s urged on in this unshakeable, carnivorous desperation to fuck harder. He's not immune to pleasure; he may be more susceptible to its threats, in fact. Knitted brows and screwed eyes blind him to the overstimulated writhing you enact, wriggling under his touch in vain hopes of reprieve.

Tears stream down your cheeks to mix with a layer of slobber splayed on your skin—a pitifully nasty mess, born out of the relentless palms of your man. He has the liberty to see you at your most vulnerable: degeneracy painting itself all over your body. A beautifully disgusting mess, you are, and he only makes it worse.

Stirring around your guts is his angry hard-on, circling your walls in shaky rolling manners, letting you both rest against the other and heave out deep breaths. The tip grinds against your g-spot and has you whimpering weakly, slapping his forearms and rolling your stomach. “I’m gonna—”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He grits, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging your head to the left. The stinging burn that dances at your roots has you wincing and whining, scrunching your face up. “Hold it.”

“I c-can’t, Kuni!” Just as the words leave your mouth, his hips are re-angled to push up into your pussy, the right-bound hook he sports curving right up to a gummy cushion in your walls. They contract around him and he groans, tightening his grip on your hair.

He dives into you, letting his hands grip your waist as his head wedges itself between your chin and shoulder. “Get it through your thick fucking skull,” he berates, nipping your collarbone. “You can't cum until I say so,”

His hips grind upward, drilling his dick deep into your depths that the hoarseness in your voice is shaken off for a shrill yelp to be squeezed out. He laughs at you menacingly, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to then circle the mark with his tongue. “Take it like a good bitch and I may be nice to you.”

Not a word he said will be upheld. You're so good—the best girl for him and he still dangles your release in front of you. Like a dog to a thick bone, you pant and whine in anticipation of being thrown your Achilles heel.

Exhaustion catches up to him and he can only lazily rock into you. His left hand presses on your stomach as he does so, trapping pressure in your tummy and mixing deliciously with your pleasure.

Heat swims beneath your skin and spills out beads of perspiration, gluing your bodies together.

Proximity; your bodies are so close and burning up fervent flames that swallow you down. Like the pliable silk you are, you slip around under his hold and that knot your stomach is tied up in easily unwinds.

“You’re coming, aren't you?” He shakily asks, exhaling deeply. If you aren't, he is.

Your non-answer is answer enough—he moans pathetically in your ear, falling apart as he ruts into you.

Holding on is a thing of the past as he slams against your sweet spot, unfurling his orgasm into you in milky ropes. Simultaneously, you release your biggest orgasm yet, splashing against his stomach and streaming down your legs. The pressure pushes him out with a grunt, a sadistic laugh of his echoing in your head.

Your swollen pussy is shining in pearlescent, bubbled strings, rolling out of you in a gushing mix. Oh, it's nasty; and you're utterly destroyed—flushed and blemished and patterned in bites, bruises, and prints. Your lips are swollen and bitten; your eyes are low-lidded and teary; your face is sweaty and tear-stained; your body quivers and spasms and Kuni thinks that you've never looked better.

Reprieve only lasts a mere moment before your legs are pushed up to your shoulders, spreading and stretching your limbs to their limits. Drawing out a whine, you speak hoarsely, “What’re you doing? No more..”

“I never told you to cum, did I?”

A break quickly becomes a distant memory.