#prowl/hook

[iszapizza]

prowl and his 5 bfs

[catboyenjoyerdesu]

6 husbands🤍🖤💜💚

[bakllori]

🥺

[drill-teeth-art]

-The Death of Prowl-

I don't think we could've cared about you, even if we tried.

[akidachi]

the dynamic

[crying-fantasies]

In health and sickness

Masterlist

Many words could describe him at the moment.

Overprotective, over doting conjunx, overwhelming, overbearing and many others that could be an excellent reflection of his actions and reactions, it's the second one that catches him off guard because he isn't sure if it was due to embarrassment or that it felt like a joke at his expense.

There are little options when his system charge way before the programmed hour, not knowing what is going on before his sensors show him in deep red alarms a focus of temperature in the room and the low registration of CO2 in the room, there is a way too short time for decision making as he finds you looking at the ceiling without blinking, chest hardly moving before a horrendous sound erupts, like an engine got stuck somewhere or a spark giving up, almost like a dying cybertronian or an idiot that consumed some corrosive substance.

He has heard both frequently in the battlefield, that's his excuse to call, and appear, at ungodly hours to the nearest clinic going full police car, poor the souls of any mech on his way while you were hardly battling off the mucus on your throat and the pain of your insides twisting, churning, trying to get whatever kept oxygen out of your lungs.

Nothing too hard, just the main problem being what humans call a virus, Prowl has to download once again the basics of your species and the recently updated papers about the whole deal, how did it came to Iacon when he was so sure the outbreak was limited to Stanix? How is it possible that there is no cure for this humorless pest, almost strangling the medic with his bare servos when the indications of "just let them rest well, a lot of fluids and a healthy diet" were all he could give you apart from medicine to only temporarily placate any symptoms.

Prowl knew that humans had a terrible automatic cleansing and protective program, but it still was ridiculous how it only took a little microscopic individual to have you in the verge of dehydration and suffocation, assaulting as an opportunist in your weakest state of mind to have him saying the same as always: you don't have to work, he'll take care of everything, you don't have to stress yourself because here you're safe, but his words aren't that believable as this is the result of the heat generators in the city falling once again because he can't still keep the energy flow uninterrupted, your little body caught in a decreasing temperature in mere minutes before someone else gave you a heated metal blanket to stop a freezing coma or something worse.

There is nothing left to do, only make it bearable for you, as long as it can last because even the most advanced remedies are lacking and he can't have something better in at least a few more years when he needs them by yesterday when it all began.

"It's okay", you try to calm him, knowing well how under his stoic faceplate he is freaking out, you just have to see how far Prowl is going, this is his second day working from home, his scowl is present as always but the way his door wings move at any sound from the street show just right how in the edge he is.

Somehow, your words seem to make it worse, his angry expression almost scares you, "don't talk back now", is his only response, putting a little cube with warm lemonade next to your side of the berth, internally, you cringe, thinking of the warm but also stinging fluid going down your sore throat, thinking how expensive a single lemon is in Cybertron.

But, above all else, seeing him so on edge puts you in the same circumstances, trying to talk him down from submitting a complain to Stanix's medical officers regarding the virus now in Iacon, he is so engrossed in it, not even putting his datapad down when there is an obvious notification of intruders on your door, Prowl only gives it attention when Bonecrusher ends up decimating the door of the living quarters by brutal force, falling with it and still punching the poor thing, growling and roaring like a wild animal, soon after the rest of the constructicons follow, but they look in a way you've never seen before from them.

Wild gazes, bared dentae, vents puffing out hot air, their armor moves and stands threateningly, they look murderous enough for Prowl to hold you in his servos, almost preparing himself to be attacked before Long Haul claims, "Where is it?! Where is the slag fragger, son of a glitch-?!"

Turns out, Prowl's anger and worry could be felt by them.

Turns out, also, that they don't have his filter of supposed control.

"What? What is this?"

Turns out, easily freaked decepticons, who have very little real interaction with humans, shouldn't enter the medical area of a corny website probably made by a doctor wannabe.

And it shows, in how Hook push them all out of his way when you cough once again, too hard this time, the paper on your hand now with a tingle of blood in between, before any word of assurance can be said from your part Prowl is the first to hold you near, Hook is fast to ask what is going in and someone is already crying out loud for a medic.

So much for a peaceful Saturday morning.

"This will do, this has to do the work", Mixmaster usual anxious movements seem to reach another point, normally steady servos seem to shake ominously when mixing something that smells like bleach, "concentrated citric acid, this'll kill it, show that thing not to mess with us", a drop of the thing reaches the table, an acid like reaction eating away the metal, Long Haul and Scavenger look with dread as the thing keeps eating part of the floor, smoke frizzing out of it, visors wide with obvious panic, the bigger 'con putting a protective servo over you, using his own frame and stopping his partner to get near in his hysteria while the smallest started to cry yet again while clutching your hand between massive digits, said cries only decreasing when you started to promise you were going to be okay, hard to believe when another coughing session appeared again, "it'll work, I swear, only a few sips of it and those parasites will be gone forever!"

Hook shouted too, "it's vitamin C! Vitamin C!", he holds down Mixmaster, who at the end just let's go of the cube with a strangled growl.

Prowl would never admit it but he could act normal if Long Haul was watching over you.

"We should punch them in the faceplates", Bonecrusher keeps going, going from one side of the place to the other, barely kept anger on him.

You try, you really do, to push yourself out of the different blankets above of you, but they have made the sentence of "keep warm to improve the process" a lot more unnecessary, as you're sure at least one of those is your weighted blanket, "I'll be fine" you promise once again, mucus on the nose, throat incredibly raw, pretty sure they can read the increasing fever in their sensors, Scavenger is the one closest to you, and is also the one hearing every word of yours and give it real credit, "this takes a week as much, just let it-"

Another fit of coughing erupted, and this time followed by sneezing, more blood coming and showing like an alarm on the white tissue, and someone shouting "MEDIC!" as if you have just been injured on the battlefield.

You're ready to die from mortification, preparing your lengthy apology to whoever has the disgrace to treat you as Prowl drives back to the hospital with 5 constructicons after him.

.

For my Prowl lovers fellows (sorry for the constructiprowl content but boy I love all of them together) @dundeey, @lovenotcomputed and @ikkosu.

[retr0scum]

give them cuddles, you prick

[saxandviolins88]

the girls are fighting ong 😭😭😭

[fireyhotsupertalia]

Bonecrusher: Which one of you was gonna tell me tea taste different if you put hot water in it?

Scrapper: Y- you’re putting it in cold water??

Long Haul: Crusher?! Answer the Question Crusher !

Bonecrusher: yeah I thought for like five years that people just put it in hot water to sped up the tea-ifiction process, didn’t realize there was an actual reason.

Bonecrusher: You think I have the patience’s to heat water? The fuck?

Scavenger: you don’t have the patience to microwave water for three minutes?

Mixmaster: why are you putting it in the Microwave to boil it?!

Scavenger: do you think I have the patience to boil water in the stove?!

Mixmaster: it takes less than a minute!

Scavenger: Mixie is your stove powered by fucking Sunstorm?!?!

Mixmaster: how long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove!!?

Scavenger: Like seven minutes!

Mixmaster: just stick the mug on top of the stove in medium heat! Takes like two minute less if you use a sauce pan!

Scavenger: you…..you…you’re putting the whole mug on the stove?! On medium heat?! Is your stove enchanted?!

Prowl: every single person on this team is a fucking lunatic

Hook: DO NONE OF YOU OWN A FUCKING KETTLE?!

[mechagender]

buh

[tonikkyn]

Terribly interesting

[anon-e-miss]

Bearing the Brood

Being injured on the job had not been in Prowl’s long term plans. Even less had been the precincts refusal to take responsibility and to engage in training that would give Prowl the skills to take on different duties. Sensory blind in one doorwing, Prowl was a little more clumsy than a lot of Praxians and his career prospects were limited as well. Drones served the most menial roles in Praxus, there was little place for a disabled mech like Prowl. It was fortunate he had a good lineage and prior to his injury, a good job record. There was not a company in the city-state that did not have strict requirements for their brooders. Prowl had been fortunate to meet them.

Since he had entered his carrier as a professional broodcarrier, Prowl had carried six times. He kindled easily and suffered no complications which had only elevated his value to the company. His energon had come in with the first carrying and had not been allowed to dry up. For the bitlets that were going home to procreators who could not nurse, Prowl’s energon, and the energon of broodcarriers like him, could be ordered. When Prowl open, his wells’ energon supply kept him with an income. It was something. It was not the life he had planned for himself but he had shelter and fuel and respectability and that was all he wanted.

His frame was especially suited to carrying, according to the facilitators. His hips were wide allowing for an easy emergence and his thick thighs and belly belayed a frame that kept its stores ensuring the bitlet he carried never went without anything. Prowl had even gotten repeat customers by this point and his contracts were argued over, improving his standings even more. Most of the time he carried for couples who could not conceive together but who could both contribute to his ensparking and contributions, making them both procreators to the resulting bitlet. Sometimes they did so personally and sometimes it was all through artificial insemination. All in all, Prowl did not particularly care.

He was open now, and had been for a while, allowing his frame to rest. Prowl knew there were contract talks underway with a number of potential clients jockey for the right to fill his womb with their creation. Though he would be the one to carry, it was the facilitators who assigned the clients and Prowl only knew their personal situations if they chose to share it. No one paid the fees to use a broodcarrier if they had the ability to create without one. His services did not come cheap. It was a good and honest function to share his fertility with those who went without.

Knowing he would have a contract soon, Prowl was busy at work in his kitchen. He wore a frilly apron over his latex armour. Carrying made his sentio-metallico tender and he had gone without conventional armour for so long Prowl found it uncomfortable even when his forge was empty and he only wore it when he met with clients for the first time. It was not the same armour he had worn as an enforcer, that did not come close to fitting now, carrying six time had left him with a plumper middle than he had had during his enforcer service. That armour did not suit his current function anyways. Prowl working on the finally touches to his gift basket when the facilitators called to tell him they had connected him to a new client. New was good, Prowl liked new, a new mechanism or a new couple with an empty spot in their sparks that only a bitlet could fill. As he always did, Prowl brought the gift basket with him.

“And there he is!” The facilitator exclaimed as Prowl entered the office. He froze in the doorway. Sitting in the office with the facilitator was a giant of a mech. Was this his client? “Prowl’s service is very sought after, you must understand. He makes kindling and carrying look so easy.. You won’t be disappointed, Jazz.”

“Good to meet ya, Prowl,” the giant said.

“I brought a gift,” Prowl said. This mech was so big. They must have been planning invitro and a c-section. He could not imagine how anything else would make sense. “They are goodies to encourage transfluid quality and production to aid in smooth contributions.”

“That’s thoughtful o’ ya,” Jazz said.

“Given Jazz lives in Polyhex, the contract requires you reside with him during your confinement,” the facilitator explained. “Shipping contributions is just too hectic. If all goes well, he has reserved first refusal of your next contract as well.”

“I see,” Prowl replied. “I hope I do not disappoint.”

“‘M sure ya won’t,” Jazz replied.

It was not invitro they were after. Prowl was ushered into a large guest room with his newest client at his back. He had never resided with a client while carrying for them, though Prowl had known this sort of thing did occur. Praxus was the premier destination for reproductive tourism. None of his clients had been Praxian themselves and that was not uncommon from what Prowl had read. Seekers made up the highest number of broodcarrier clients in Praxus. Five out of the six clients Prowl had carried for had been Trines. It made no difference to him, the frametypes of his customers but he could not deny he was uneasy to be contracted overseas.

“How can I help ya relax?” Jazz asked. Prowl flushed. It was in poor form to offend a client so early.

“I...” he tried to come up with a denial, an excuse, and explanation.

“Ya got cause to be nervous, don’t ya think?” Jazz asked. “Yer supposed to go away wit me, a total strange, to the other side o’ the planet, away from everythin’ ‘n everyone ya know. That’s scary ‘nough. But then ya look at me ‘n ya feel so so small.”

“Yes,” Prowl said. He felt impossibly small. “I thought they might do invitro...”

“Don’t worry, Prowl,” Jazz told him. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya. Yer more flexible than ya know.”

Prowl could not imagine how he could be flexible enough but if his fears proved true, then they would move on to invitro. He would not leave with Jazz until he was confirmed to be carrying, that was guaranteed. Jazz pulled off Prowl armour and guided him to the berth. It was a bigger one that Prowl had ever served on. There was have been clients like Jazz before and he wondered how the broodcarriers had fared. Though Prowl’s wells were so large for his frame at this point, his supply bordering on unbelievable, Jazz’s servos covered them completely as he lounged in the berth, holding Prowl’s array against his mouth.

Jazz fragged him with his glossa as he had Prowl ride his face. It was enough to make Prowl’s legs feel weak. He mewled as Jazz held him around the waist and lifted him up and down, thrusting and wriggling his glossa so deep, it even broke into his tank. Prowl overloaded priming his spark to kindle. Digits as wide as spikes jointed Jazz’s glossa in preparing Prowl’s valve. His belly was so full and so tight as those digits pushed into him and he overloaded again. When Jazz laid him out on his back, Prowl was panting and his legs were like jelly. Jazz towered over him as he held Prowl’s legs up as he guided his spike to Prowl’s valve. It was so big, so incredibly big Prowl could not imagine how he could possibly take it.

He mewled as Jazz fragged his thighs with that monstrous spike, dragging it over his wet folds and glowing anterior node. It was so long and so thick it left a trail of pre-transfluid over his abdomen. Despite his anxieties at the sight of this spike, Prowl felt his internals clench. Jazz held the tip of his gargantuan spike to Prowl’s plump folds. All Prowl could do was stare. His folds thinned and strained as the broad tip of his giant client’s spike pushed against his opening. The strain was greater than any time he had given emergence. Prowl grunted as Jazz’s spike broke his entrance’s resistance and lodged in core. His jaw fell open as he saw the bulge in his belly and his own spike was forced out of his sheath like a canned jelly. He did not pressurize.

It burned more than it hurt. His biolights and nodes were brushed as Jazz pushed his spike deeper and deeper into his belly and they send bolts of pleasure up his spinal struts even as his valve’s casing strained beyond the schematics of his frame, his lining spread impossibly wide and taunt. Prowl grunted each time his client pushed deeper. Jazz slowly, leisurely fragged Prowl’s valve, pulling out, then thrusting back in, deeper each time. Lubricants gushed out around his spike each time Jazz pushed in. Prowl groaned loudly as he felt his client reformat his internals. There was pleasure in this, through the ache, the strain and the burn. His internal duct gave way as his client’s giant spike pressed against it and Prowl went limp as Jazz’s spike struck the top of his gestational tank. Prowl’s optics rolled back in his helm as Jazz leaned in close and the tip of his spike lodge in the funnel to his forge and overloaded with a surge so powerful Prowl fell offline.

“The client is thrilled with you,” the facilitator told Prowl as he made arrangements to travel to Polyhex.

“I am... gratified to hear that,” Prowl replied. He could hardly walk, Jazz had broken his frame without braking a strut or drawing a drop of energon. His belly was large as if he was well into carrying and it was only transfluids. No armour Prowl owned fit at all. He could only wear his apron. His limp spike dragged against his thigh as he waddled along.

“Our first royal patronage,” the facilitator exclaimed, gleefully. “Our business will soar!”

“Royal?” Prowl gasped.

“Oh yes,” the facilitator said. “Jazz is the heir apparent to Polyhex. None of our broodcarriers had carried for a duke, let alone a prince. This is so exciting.”

A prince?!

[catboyenjoyerdesu]

: will you get off me!?

: what do you mean you like me. Frag off

Anyway…

[constructiconweek]

Ok happy February! I’m go ahead and post the words I’ve selected for Constructicon week 2024 with a nice preview header and the official list with the days and I'll post the AO3 collect closer to the date :

Day 1 Feb 18th Scrapper : Wood

Day 2 Feb 19th Long Haul : Paper

Day 3 Feb 20th Scavenger : Sand

Day 4 Feb 21st Hook : Glass

Day 5 Feb 22nd Bonecrusher : Concrete

Day 6 Feb 23rd Mixmaster : Fabric

Day 7 Feb 24th Devastator : Free Day : (Prowl/Gravedigger/Hauler/Omega Supreme/Dirt Boss and others can be included here just had to be Constructicon related.)

(The different universes (G1, IDW one and two, TFA, Armanda and others can appeal to any day just tag it when we get there!

more under cut

And I’ll add here given that these are building materials and want to build stuff and do other projects with them, like wood burning or sand art for explain, (be careful) but cool! We’d love to see it when the time rolls around! I’m hoping posting this early gives people (like me) more time for writing, drawing, and all art!

Again the days are February 18th - Feb 24th 2024 (Engineering Week in the US) contact me admin @fireyhotsupertalia if you have any question!

--

Each day has two prompts the first is the Constructicon and the second  is the word, feel free to use both in Conjunction or if you want you can  use just one for example you feel like just drawing Mixmaster go for it  post Friday, feel like writing about the who group and Formula go for it post Monday. Get delayed and can’t post on the correct day no problem I’m sure everyone will love to still get the content so don’t worry too much. It’s about fun and adding more to the community.

You can feel free to @ me here or submit things if you’d like I’ll reblog all I can!

Admin for this blog and event are @fireyhotsupertalia​

[carelessapples]

is this anything

close up on prowl’s face bc i laughed myself silly when i drew this last night

[akidachi]

Frankensteins Fanclub!