#mtmte imagine

[wifetomegatron]

Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone.

based on this post because this is just too tempting to not write about, we must sound like debutants making their first appearance in fashionable society speaking in skittish whispers and sighs all the time when in reality organics speak in different octaves and wavelengths. definitely self indulgent cause me and my friends do this.

Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone. In a ship full of battle-weary, pessimistic, cybertronians desensitized to almost everything, that single drop of warmth coming from a human whose touches feel like silk — feather light and alien, would be enough to make them putty in your presence.

The last time Brainstorm received a — " How clever, Brainstorm, thank you for your help." He had nearly popped a circuit trying to come up with a reply, stunned silent for what Perceptor claimed was the first time he was without one of his usual snarky remarks. Then it was Swerve, who wouldn't shut up about how you had called him 'darling' — Skids was adamant to prove to him that it was just how you spoke to people, even if the theoretician himself had his chest puffed out from being called 'dear'.

Then there was the time that you had scolded Whirl for nearly stepping on you, voice still painfully tender in comparison to the mechanical lilt of metal vocalizers —" Ooop! Careful there, handsome!" You had jumped, swerving just in time before his pedes crushed you. And the watchmaker froze, with a single optic pinning you in place. Then Drift had to chase him down several hallways, yelling that he wasn't allowed to just pick you up and run off.

An intervention was needed when a group of mechs were sent down a Decepticon outpost and returned with injuries. Apparently, everyone wanted to be pat on the arm and have you crooned — " Oh, you poor, brave thing" to them. With your brows knitted in worry, lips pout and slightly parted as they tell you all the heroic things they did. ( Ultra Magnus wasn't too impressed when said intervention from Rodimus was just a plot for him to cut the line and show you his battle scars. Someone in the back of the line had yelled that he wasn't even scratched. Judging from the infighting brewing, it was most likely Whirl.)

[zeropro]

Don't worry, Sunstorm didn't fly all the way to Earth from Cybertron all by himself!

Because it's my au and i can do whatever i want, what if my oc hung out with all the cool kids. Somehow managed to shoehorn the Lost Light in there somewhere.

After Optimus Prime and his crew left Cybertron with Megatron on his trail, they all crash land on Earth and go into stasis. Back on Cybertron, Hot Rod is like, guys OP has been like, MIA for a few hundred years now, we should maybe go look for him? And Ultra Magnus and Elita-1 are like, doesn't seem like a good idea, so of course Hot Rod does it. He gets a space ship, crews it with his best bud, a bartender, a janitor, and a psychopath (okay whirl prolly sneaks onboard himself). Instead of finding Optimus they find the Dead Universe and a different Prime. Nova Prime. The guy who wanted to do the colonization like six million years ago. Anyway, they duke it out, and Cyclonus joins them. Then they like, have wacky space adventures, find Rung on a neutral colony somewhere and he joins them because serving on space ships is what he do. They go back to Cybertron at some point and find out it's all dead so they go out and try and find some solution to this. Then at some point Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobots wake up on Earth, and so they go to Earth and meet up with them. They all hang out, then after Optimus dies, Hot Rod gets his name changed to Rodimus, and goes back into space because he and Bumblebee dont get along, and thats when they pick up Sunstorm en route and give him a ride back to Earth!

Sunstorm can have a little therapy, as a treat.

[devilart2199-aibi]

Transformers Valentines! 💝

Free to print out and give to loved one's, friends or people you appreciate! 💞😊 (or as a gift to yourself!) Please do not repost or attempt to sell!

[spinn-virus]

raaagh silly thing based on a conversation with friend that may or may not still be funny out of context

[pharmasrightarm]

separate ways

[edgymegatronus]

“As you command, Megatron.”

Old habits die hard.

[ihatebrainstorm]

Ratcchhhett knight.. medic... mm thought he'd have a big Shire horse but I just realized I drew the horse too small oops- Also gave him a big sword bc I feel like he would have a big sword

[numpobumpo]

i don't see enough angst of these two tbh

[jacazull]

The yappers and the listener

[keferon]

Day three of me trying to make a better Blurr figure than Hasbro.

Woke up thinking he needs little wingies on his ankles.

Figured out the design and shape of the shoulder parts

Smoothed and sanded everything, though my crappy pics probably don't show it haha

Now it's just a matter of painting this beauty:D

You know what, this whole thing is turning out to be a lot more doable?? than I expected?? If this figure comes out good, I'll definitely make another one.

Probably Drift. Definitely Drift.

Drift figures aren't as bad looking as Blurr figures, but in my country you can't get them without selling your kidney.

☆

[hoiststowline]

responses to an overworked/sleepy s/o [w/ ultra magnus, sunstreaker, & hound]

ultra magnus

Ultra Magnus knows that he’s the biggest hypocrite in this situation, but you’ve yawned four times in the past five minutes. it sends alarms across his processor, observing the way you use the back of your hand to poorly cover such an exhausted gesture. somehow, this less than gentle alert that your body was tired was not enough, yourself shuffling through a stack of papers as you carry on with little qualms. Magnus can feel his optic twitch, unable to quietly fight the urge to knock some sense into you about your health and well-being. adjusting to time and your schedule has come a little easier to him, mostly due to finding himself in your company on a daily basis. understanding what he does now, he finds self-assurance in calling you out about getting some rest, the hour far past the original time you had set to get some rest. 

“y/n?” he rumbles, slightly baffled that you don’t even offer your undivided attention, acknowledging him with a noise he can’t quite label. a thought passes him by: is this how other mechs feel when he’s drowning in paperwork? “It is very late. Perhaps you would do better to pick this up in the morning?” 

finally, your eyes tear away from the papers to meet his, and then Magnus is whacked with the realization he has to stand firm here. you must’ve been at this for hours, fatigue and enervation translating well enough from your gaze and pouring down the rest of your body. “Sorry. Run that by me again?” 

“I will do no such thing,” he’s good at being the bad guy, the one who has to play fair and look out for others. but for you? he’s willing to beg, stand firm in seeing you get some much deserved, and earned sleep. “This will be here when you awake. Rest.” 

your pout works on him, and the worst part of it all is you must know it does. “Five more minutes?” you plead, trying your best to stifle a yawn that Magnus sees far too easily. every bone in your body begs you to relent, but stubbornness finds you once more as you think of all the studying that needs to be done before tomorrow. 

“No.” he’s caged you between two massive hands, leaning forward until you’re forced to meet his stare and not the copious amounts of work spread out around the berth. “You cannot use my own tactics against me. Bed, now.”

sunstreaker

something wakes Sunstreaker up about three hours into his recharge, and with little investigation he comes to find you on the other side of the room. after you’d said three hours ago you’d join him in ten minutes, that turned out to be the biggest lie in the world. disoriented and mildly irritated, his brow furrows when he calls your name, confused as to why you jump in surprise. everything about you breathes burnout, eyes glassy as they eventually lock with his across the room. were you so consumed and entranced by that textbook that you hadn’t heard him grumble under his breath before calling out to you? how dare such a stupid object hold your attention and not him, slowly losing his already depleted patience. 

“Get over here.” Sunstreaker hums, trying once to be nice instead of brash. he’s come to take a second to mull over his words before they leave his voice box, trying his damndest to say what he means the first time. yet, this time, instead of pulling away from your study materials, you only dive deeper. 

“I’ll be right there,” you whisper, as if he was still in and out of recharge. “Just have to finish this chapter, and-” you squeak as he abruptly stands from the berth, lumbering over to where you were sitting on his desk. fumbling with the textbook, your finger saves the page before you close it over, trying your best to appear defiant and adamant, but losing miserably. “What are you doing?” 

“What am I doing?” Sunstreaker counters, expecting no reply. “You said ‘ten more minutes’ hours ago. Bed, or I throw that book.” 

you appear miserable. the happiness that normally contradicts his irritable behavior is nowhere to be found, something that concerns him greatly. you had mentioned earlier in the week about an upcoming test that was stressing you out, but now this studying venture has crossed over into territory that enrages Sunstreaker. you weren’t taking care of yourself, unworried about how a newfound weariness preoccupies you. whenever you speak ill of yourself or doubt your abilities, it seizes him so greatly that he can’t focus on anything else. don’t you know how much he loves you, and knows you’ll do great things, no matter what? 

somehow, you know he means it, sighing in defeat. “Fine, fine.” with a small smile, you close the book over with a defeated sigh. “Sorry. The test is in two days.” 

to your surprise, Sunstreaker mumbles his words, but the sincerity is overwhelming. “I’ll try to help you study tomorrow. But now, bed, and I mean it.” 

hound

you’ve certainly done a lot of typing in the past couple of hours, Hound has noticed. enough that with each hour that slips by, it’s time for him to wrap his tasks up and fully join your company, excited to hear about what you’ve been up to and relax into the evening with no issue. except, that’s mostly thrown out the window as he takes in your body language, surveying the way your palm runs over your face and rubs at your eyes, only to return to your laptop seconds later. the light from the screen illuminates your features, but all Hound can focus on is how your shoulders slump forward, a glasiness overtaking your eyes that he can’t quite decipher the reason behind. you’re clearly spent, drained of the day's responsibilities as they now carry over into time that should be spent away from the computer. 

“y/n?” he tries, using the tip of his digit to run down the length of your leg, vying for your attention, selfish as that may be to admit. “Y’alright? Busy day?” 

for a moment, you pull away from the laptop, blinking wildy before realizing it was only Hound. everything in you yearned to just shut the computer and set this aside for another time, but the idea of being ahead tomorrow entranced you far too much. “I’m good! I’d just like to finish this up, I swear I’m almost done.” famous last words. 

your slight startle at his touch and words worried him, the way you appear so disconnected from reality as you are solely focused on typing a report that didn’t need to be completed at this very moment. though your overworked and tired demeanor concerns him greatly, Hound is willing to yield if only to respect your wishes. he cares so deeply for you that perhaps just this once, he’d overlook the fact that you probably really needed some shut-eye now. it’s like overriding a code, Hound feels as if he’s programmed to look out for everyone and their health, you always residing as his top priority. always number one on his list, finding that sometimes you unintentionally neglect your wellbeing, himself guilty of similar behaviors. 

but then you don’t stick to your original plans. more time has escaped you, and Hound’s fretting has skyrocketed to the point where he isn’t ashamed to implore you to get some rest. “Yer exhausted,” he rumbles, broad shoulders drooping as you tear your eyes away from the screen to massage at your temples once more. “Don’t overwork yourself. It ain’t worth it, ah know it first hand.” 

doing what Hound asks of you is an easy feat, as forfeit finds you. with a sleepy smile, you power down the computer and set it to the side to be tomorrow's problem. this time was precious with him, sacred and not effortless to come by. “Sorry.” you stumble over your words, trying to stifle a yawn in the meantime. “I’m alright. It’s done for the evening.”

[wifetomegatron]

imagine leaving lipstick stains all over your cybertronian s/o (suggestive themes) flattering nude, pink, peppered all over skid's face as you pull away from him for air — his grin, lazy and content as he submits to the feel of your lips against his cheek, his jaw, his neck cables.

swerve with both his servos steadying you as you straddle his waist, mouth gently pressed against his. there was a helpless sound that escaped him, a mechanical whine that urged you to leave a daring trail of burgundy all over his shades, chin, and shoulders. the sound of magnus approaching made you scramble off him — and at the sight, the duly appointed officer of the tyrest accord nearly forgot why he was there in the first place.

shameless and preening with pride, rodimus stood above his two hundred crew mates, tilting his cheek slightly to the right to show off the stamp of cherry pink gloss staining the metal — the natural shimmer, bouncing under the lights as he gave one of his speeches. helpless, you can only stand in the back of the crowd to shake your head and ignore the teasing.

megatron with both arms crossed against his chassis, leaning back against the berth, PADD abandoned on his lap as he chooses to watch you by the miniature vanity table instead. you meet his optics in the mirror, dragging the lipstick across your bottom lip — cheery noir, staining your mouth. enraptured, he rises from his spot and makes his way towards you. And when he had both arms wrapped around your waist, you laughed in defeat, knowing that you'd have to reapply the tint all over again now that it had painted almost every corner of his face.

there was a moment of silence as ultra magnus arrived in the med bay, a little bit flustered, considering the static in his voice as he asked what the doctors needed. and immediately, first aid exited the room, laughter echoing down the hallways. the officer shot ratchet a suspicious look, who replied silently by flicking his gaze downwards. a small smirk on his face as he cleared his vocalizer — " did we interrupt something, magnus ?" the mech caught his reflection in one of the mirrors, horrified that you had left a plethora of ruby stains on his armor. a clash of blue and garnet, adorning his waist. and he could feel the atmosphere consume him when he noticed you've left a few across his (interface) panels too.

[transingthoseformers]

Neither Drfit nor Ratchet can carry anymore but both of them want a bitty so bad, so they ask Rodimus to be the one to carry for them. Now Rodimus dislike the idea of carrying and losing his figure (he thinks it's the only good thing about him at this point), but with the guilt of hurting his amica in the past and wanting to make up for it he agrees.

So obv he went through all cycles of grief and ended up birthing the bitty. Only to immediately fall inlove with the small little thing, the sparkling is everything Rodimus loves about life, about himself, about the mechs that the bitty actually belongs to. Ah, right...

Cue tragic scenario where Rodimus gives up the sparkling to Dratchet because techically it's theirs, he's just the stand in for them (also he maybe felt that he ruins anything good he touches so he doesn't want that to happen to his the bitty).

After that, Rodimus couldn't look into a mirror anymore because the sparkling (to him) was everything beautiful and good from him. And now that it's gone and all that's left is ugly, scarred and disgusting Rodimus.

(Dratchet obv was courting him during the whole thing but Roddy was busy spiralling and also it's late and I'm very eepy so if you wanna expand on this feel free)

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I've thought of this before but not in a way this angsty, omggggg yes and it's such a dynamic

[bird-in-the-space]

The Mysterious Painter being Alchemist Prime's Apprentice

If you had been reborn in the time of the primes, and Alchemist Prime took you in as his apprentice.

(Author's note: This was something that has been on my mind, and I took some inspiration from Citlali's story quest)

Warnings: none much, some mentions of the caste system, and some doubting your art skills.

-----------------------------------------------------

- Imagine being reborn at the time when the thirteen primes still existed on Cybertron. The society still lived in a mild kind of caste system, but this time it would not be so serious with the existence of the primes. You were still forced to learn proper survival skills so you wouldn’t end up angering the wrong person, but this time you painted more openly. 

- Your art skills were admired all across Cybertron, even though your art, name, and interest in organic lifeforms were considered odd.

- You respected all the primes and their dominions. You found them and their unique existence fascinating as they were Primus’s first creations. However, even they seemed too busy to notice the hardships of the less fortunate. You understood that their positions and duties were not something they could not ignore, so you never saw them in a negative light for it. 

- Your life was good. But then, one day, you found a container holding a strange liquid. You tried to return it, but since its origins were unknown, you were told to keep it or throw it away. 

- You did not know what to do with it until you got home and accidentally spilled a drop into one of your freshly painted artworks while inspecting it. It did something mysterious as it made your paint shine and materialize the painting into the actual thing. It was magical and strange at the same time. 

- You figured out it was some kind of chemical compound like an alchemy potion. It most likely belonged to Alchemist Prime as he was known for his mystical experiments with elements and materials. How it got misplaced, you did not know. 

- Your conscience said to return it as it was probably valuable, but seeing your painting come to life made you want to see what else you could do with it. Maybe you could borrow just a little to sate your curiosity. 

- For the next few days, you mixed the liquid with different paint colors and saw what happened. You did not expect much but your experimenting resulted in many curious outcomes. You even mixed some colors together and painted on different surfaces to see what would happen. 

- Alchemist Prime eventually left his home to look for the container as the liquid inside was an important alchemy compound. He wasn’t certain how it got misplaced or fell during the transport, but luckily, he had ways to locate it. He could have asked some of his people to bring him more, but unfortunately, the compound was not something that was easily found. 

- While looking for it, he would ramble on his thoughts. His brethren had been asking if he would take an apprentice soon like they had. He had considered it but so far no cybertronian had shown similar fascination for alchemy like he did, or that they just did not feel right to him. It was honestly a hassle. 

- He once even doubted he would ever find the right apprentice, and then he started having visions. He envisioned colors, many different and marvelous colors. He was not certain at first what those visions meant, but then he figured out that whoever was to become his apprentice had connections to colors. 

- He would then be surprised by finding traces of the liquid in small flowers growing on the street walls. He was puzzled as organic flora did not usually grow below Cybertron's surface and these flowers looked unusual. The colors were vibrant and the petals looked like they were made from some kind of liquid. Alchemist touched the flower petals and found paint smearing his finger. This made him curious. It was now clear someone had found his compound and used it in a very peculiar way. 

- He would then follow the traces to you, finding you using it as a mixture of paint to make more flowers on the ground. He would then see the paintings come to life. He looked around and found the secluded alley filled with different varieties of these flowers. It was lovely and Alchemist was filled with excited intrigue. Not many ordinary cybertronians knew how to manipulate the elements of his field and he had never seen any of them used this way. 

- He then looked at you, sensing something different about your spark, but seeing you made him realize you were the apprentice the visions spoke about. Colors were connected to art so it was you. 

- Alchemist would excitedly show himself, startling you as you knew who he was and then realize you had gotten so lost in the art experiments that you had completely forgotten to return the container. 

- You apologized for taking it, but he brushed it casually and asked how you managed to use his compound to bring your art to life. You then relaxed and explained how you mixed the liquid with different paint colors, finding different results.

-  Alchemist was surprisingly easygoing, and he listened to everything you said with keen interest. 

- He then complimented your art, and then, out of the blue, he asked if you wanted to become his apprentice. 

- He claimed you had a natural curiosity and talent for alchemy, so it would be a wasted opportunity for him to not give an invitation. He could sense that your spark was different compared to other cybertronians, and he would like to see your skills in the art flourish even further. 

- It was a golden opportunity, and you had always found his mystical arts fascinating so you accepted. And that is how you became Alchemist Prime’s apprentice. 

- He was a patient and a good teacher. You listened to his lectures well and felt comfortable learning at your own pace. He encouraged your interest in researching and finding ways to enhance your paint, giving them qualities and abilities to do things ordinary paint can’t – such as materializing things into existence, controlling elements, and making a color that would stay vibrant for eons. 

- He was like that one cheerful uncle and when you showed him the new paint mixtures and their unique capabilities he would marvel at them with joy and pride. 

- As his apprentice, you had the chance to meet the other primes, which was an exciting experience and you befriended bots who were mentored by them. Alchemist encouraged this as it was always good to be surrounded by friends. 

- With Alchemist, there was never a boring day. Though he sometimes had little accidents with his experiments and something blew up, you would always laugh about it. Trial and error were natural parts of creating something. 

- You did not forget your passion, continuing painting and making many art pieces. You would remain humble and decline invitations from high-class bots when they found out a renowned artist such as yourself had become a prime’s apprentice. You did not want your art to be appreciated by a single group. It was something you wanted all to enjoy and find inspiration. 

- You would utilize your newfound abilities to help many bots who had it rough. Your kindness would touch the sparks of many and the art of painting would inspire new artists which delighted you. 

- There was one painting opportunity you accepted. Alchemist asked if you would like to paint the thirteen primes in a historical moment on a great wall. Due to the respect you held for him and his brethren, you accepted even though you felt slight pressure. Painting such respectable figures was something that had little room for errors, so you needed to pull this off perfectly. 

- You worked hard for many cycles, painting every detail and refining the colors. Some doubted you could make a wall painting great enough to capture the power and magnificence of the primes, but you were not deterred. However, the painting did lack the life that captured those features, so you decided to try something new to achieve that. 

- You created a new type of paint. It was something you had been working on before the start of your great project, but this time you decided to finish it and bring new life to the painting of the primes. It took many cycles to perfect it, as it required spiritual involvement, but you finally succeeded and it was time to use it. 

- You felt a little doubt and hesitation to use it because if something went wrong then the whole project would be ruined. But with Alchemist’s reassurance, you used it and finished the painting. 

- Everyone then watched as you used your abilities to activate the paint, making the great painting glow with marvelous colors. The bots and primes were enraptured by the beauty and life your mixture brought to the painting. You were glad that the paint worked and that the artwork had the life and magnificence it deserved. 

- Alchemist smacked your shoulder with a proud laugh, saying you had outdone yourself. 

- You received many compliments and the painting of the primes became one of your greatest works. 

- When you finished your training and Alchemist had nothing left to teach you, he gifted you a special paintbrush, especially made for you. It granted you the ability to manipulate your paint and colors at will, allowing you to utilize all your abilities with a single dip of the brush. It was a mystical gift— like you had your own magic wand. You made sure to promise you would use it wisely and only for good. 

- Alchemist had no doubts in your words. He knew the gentle nature of your spark, thus he did not feel hesitant to gift you such an item. 

- As time passed, you would come to be known as the legendary painter. Many bots would still wonder about the secrets of your paints and not come even close to discovering the elements and techniques you used. Your marvelous paintings would still exist even after hundreds of years--- even after the thirteen primes ceased from existence. What became of you was everyone’s guess. Some say you disappeared when the war arrived or that you left Cybertron to seek more inspiration or undiscovered colors. No one really knows. 

[srimpy]

getaway the escape king

[rungssparemodelpieces]

Human, mad that everyone has a Rodimus Star but them: “I’m going to earn one of those things by any means necessary!”

Later, in the medbay with a disappointed Ultra Magnus and Ratchet, a smug Rodimus, and Human in a full lower body cast

Ultra Magnus: “Was it really worth it, human?”

Human, smiling and holding up their Rodimus Star: “Yes, yes it was.”