#transformers chase

[transformersandschtuff]

Heard this bit in a penguinz0 video and it had massive chase energy so I immedietly cranked this out

OG vid under cut

(Note: everyone involved in the actual situation being talked about is okay)

https://youtu.be/tM5HC9IRVF8?si=j12vsRX1FffGWk2p

[zackaryart]

I've yet to draw blades and boulder but here are my designs for chase and heatwave from rescue bots

[fishleeks]

they are watching the real housewives!! (it was blades turn to pick) I think blades is a cuddler but only boulder would accept it. chase is neutral to contact but doesn't engage it and everyone should be happy heatwave is there at all so dont push your luck.

[nebulatut]

[swivelbot]

Bitches love Rescue Bots

…

It’s me, I’m bitches

[ny000mdraws]

My second piece for the Rescue Bots Zine hosted by @turbofox-zines!

[hoiststowline]

message in a bottle

_rb!chase x reader | prologue

An deceiving darkness has fallen outside. A hasty scan of his surroundings leaves something to be desired, unsteady balance heaved to the left as a one-sided fight ensues to remain upright.

Dissolving into a state of unconsciousness was not an ideal solution to his forthwith problem, however, it was the only feasible one that happened to cross his mind at the given moment. It arrived alongside a bitter reminder as well, it was the only one that proved a high success rate, even if abysmal to register that in full now.

His internal systems buzzed with alerts of lurking hazards and unnecessary risks, threatening his very life force if he did not take action effective immediately. At his grumble of disapproval, it all comes and goes in flurries of leaking Energon and severely damaged plating, his systems vying to discover the worst ailment so it can be treated first.

The only thing he begs for is in reference to his transformation cog, wanting it to concede sooner than later. It fights rather intensely against his wishes for the past handful of minutes, practically screams that it's not a good idea, he's making the wrong choice-

Finally, it moves one more time. The stasis lock eventually overrides all other commands, and he collapses into his alt-mode, tucked safely away in that barn he had dragged himself into. 

"...no keys and it's been locked for, ah, since I've had it, practically."

One hand settles on your hip, the other reaching up to cover your mouth as you cough, the years of dust pulling from the rusty sedan and lingering heavily in the air.

Half listening, you force yourself to nod along to the man's lengthy pitch. It becomes apparent rather quickly that you'd never be able to keep up with the maintenance on such a vehicle, knowing somewhere in the back of your mind that the price seemed too good to be true. 

In your survey of the car, one thing that caught your eye immediately was that there was no logo, no indicator of the make or model. The front bumper seemingly taking the brunt of the rust over the years, encasing it's once white and blue paint in a tarnished hue. Your eyebrow raises at the idea that it could be an older law enforcement vehicle, the seemingly odd color combination filtering through enough to warrant the question. 

"So what do you think?" He asks, query effortlessly pulling you from your assessment. 

"It's...great. It needs a lot of work, obviously." You do a double take, swearing that you just saw an interior light flicker. "But, um, I'm willing to take the time to do it."

It was proving increasingly difficult to pretend like you knew what you were talking about. Every word you've said sounded witless, a cringe following your response. It wasn't that you sought out to impress anyone, but in observing the sedan in such a state, you wanted to appear somewhat knowledgeable.

"Great," The salesman clasps his hands together behind his back, not caring an ounce about your poorly hidden weariness. "I've wanted this out of my lot for years. Nobody wanted to even look at it, 'cause of the whole key situation," 

Right. How the hell were you going begin maintenance on the car if you couldn't even get into it?

"I'll tow it for you, to wherever you want if you're nearby." He extends, but it's not out of sincerity. "It gives me the space to sell, and you don't have to break a window." 

What a gentleman, crosses your mind before thanking him softly. With one last look over at the vehicle, you turn to follow him from the garage, ready to sit through a couple of hours of paperwork for a sedan you didn't have the slightest idea how to fix. 

With your chin in your hands, you sit defeated on concrete steps, staring glumly out at the driveway.

The dealer had towed the car to your house, dumping it squarely on the pavement before departing down the dirt road without as much as another word. As if you could back out now, or beg them to take it back in a hasty decision.

You needed this car to work. It was cheap enough that it cut maybe too many corners and now staring at it, you knew you just dug yourself into a deeper hole. 

Swearing under your breath, you move to kick a rock that happened to be within reach. It bounces down the last step, rolling lazily until it comes to a stop right in front of one of the front hubcaps.

Hauling yourself up, you walk down the remaining steps until you're now in front of the sedan, where it's then you see the same light flicker from the interior. 

"So, obviously some wires are crossed." Talking aloud, you move to the driver-side door, tugging the handle lamely. "That gives me some hope that you have a few years left in you." 

On the third pull, the door pops open, headlights clicking on with a muted hiss. You jump backward, startled, but find yourself thrilled by such a small victory.

The whole no key fiasco could be put on the back burner for now, though you would eventually need it to start the damn thing. For today, it was satisfactory that you could now get inside to assess any damages to the interior.

Curious, you slide into the driver's seat, taking in the cabin with dimming faith. The seats were a cracking black leather, the center dash outfitted with dated technology, and just as much dust if not more than the exterior.

"What did I do." Your forehead meets the steering wheel with a gentle thud, about ready to give up before it all began. Maybe you could sell it to a junkyard for spare parts, and use that cash to put towards a car with at the very least a key.

After a short spiral, you blink your eyes open, enthralled by the red emblem that sat on the airbag module. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before, pulling back slightly to run your fingers over it, collecting the dust as you push it away to get a better look. 

A squeak erupts from your throat as the door slams shut, the small screen sitting in the dash blinking to life with scratchy feedback. As if at all at once the car came to life, the engine attempting to turn over with little success, overhead lights wavering wildly.

"What the hell?!" Your hand hastily runs along where the ignition would be, hoping to find a button or key jammed in there, but the ignition switch was expertly sealed off. 

A trembling palm grabs at the door handle, tugging, then yanking on the hilt, but to no avail did it release. "Definitely not crossed wires-"

Your scream is cut short as a voice pushes through the speakers, a choppy and mostly invariable sentence heaving as if it hurt to vocalize them.

"Who...are...you?"

The string of words sounded as if they did not belong to the same person, though in your horrified and delusional state, you take it that the radio is busted, and not that the car is trying to communicate with you. 

"So stupid, why did I-" The seatbelt clicks over your waist, moving on its own to your utmost horror.

Now, you irrationally, but finally conclude that the car is alive, and not in a fun, cool way, but it an 'oh my god, I'm going to die in here' way.

"Okay, okay! I hear you, I hear you loud and clear."

A garbled reply of nothing echoes, and whatever is trying to talk to you, no longer can.

"Um, you asked who I am, I'm y/n," Talking straight out of fear, hopped up on adrenaline, you gasp as the seatbelt winds tighter against your waist. "That didn't answer your question, alright. Uh, you were in a used car lot, I bought you for like three hundred bucks-”

The rearview mirror tilts down to look at you, giving you a disapproving glower even though you are looking at your own expression. 

"I don't understand! I don't-" Tearful eyes move to the windshield, watching as his hood pops open with one fluid motion. "O-okay, I understand that. You want me to fix something in your engine?"

The screen blinks thrice, and your shoulders sag in relief, hoping that that means yes. However, your momentary cheerful mood is dampened by the thought that you likely have zero idea how to rectify the problem that it wants you to.

Terrified, you dare to pose an inquiry: "Do you have an instructions manual?"

The door swings open in response, and the seatbelt retracts, allowing you to exit of your own free will.

Realistically, you could just leave it in your driveway, call a towing company in the morning, and get it sent away forever. That would make the most sense, a reasonable and wise rejoinder to such a shocking discovery.

Yet, the intrigue of the situation got the better of you, thinking it wouldn't hurt to see what was under the hood. Carefully, you push out of the seat, feet hitting the concrete with a dull thud. Keeping somewhat of a distance from the car, you walk around to the front, gingerly leaning forward to stare down at such intricate technology, enough that it makes your head spin. 

"Woah." It's breathless, fingers fumbling as you still can't seem to understand what they want you to understand. "I'm assuming you're trying to get me to fix your...?"

Headlights flicker at your knees, blinking with urgency as your gaze catches a square-shaped object, nearly emitting steam as more jumbled audio noises emit from the cabin.

"Voice box. Of course, you wanna talk so you can probably tell me you're going to kill me," Sighing, you take a step back, grease and oil coating your hands at just the minute touch of the machinery. "Is it okay if I go get a toolbox? It looks like it's pretty damaged, but I might be able to find a temporary solution."

Lights blinking three times once more, you take that wordless proposal as a yes, hesitantly turning before disappearing into the small garage. It takes some fumbling around in the dim light and dying sunlight until you find the tools.

After some struggle is displayed to lug the metal container back to the sedan, you eventually bring it to the ground with a thunk. "Listen, just so you're aware: I don't know what I'm doing at all. So please, don't kill me if I strike a wrong wire. I'm gonna mess around with it until…you can speak, I suppose."

An hour slinks by, then two, and halfway through the third you were still shoulders deep under the hood, covered in whatever had gathered within the gears.

Upon closer inspection, the voice box was heavily rusted but also improperly placed. It took maximum effort to find the right bolts to tighten, then the correct cables to rewire, even hitting it once or twice for good measure.

After some more time had passed, eventually the thing erupts with nonsense, frightening you fleetingly as you pull yourself from the front. 

"It really did take me a hot minute." You wipe your hands with a rag, sparing a glance over your shoulder to the clock hanging inside the garage.

Even though you had been working on a means for it to speak, somehow, you were still not expecting it to talk back in the slightest. 

"Yes."  You scream, the oily cloth almost leaving your grasp. "You did mention repeatedly how you did not know what you were doing." 

It was talking. It crosses your mind that amongst all the ridiculousness, a conversation arises.

"Sorry for the apprehension," You warble, feeling you're treading dangerous waters. "I didn't think that the car I just bought would be talking to me right now."

"It is a reasonable reaction, rest assured." You could tell that the voice box was not completely fixed because some of the words rejoined were hitched and not complete. "I owe you an apology as well. When I awoke from stasis in an unfamiliar place, I did not know if you were friend or foe."

"I still don't know what-who you are." Correcting yourself, not wanting to offend by any stretch. "Are you a friend?"

"Ah, most certainly, y/n." The way your name is spoken sends a chill straight down your spine, rooting you to your spot in the driveway. "My designation is Chase, that is what most call me."

"Chase." You say it with some disquiet as if such an insane situation could have such a simple name. "Well, Chase, since you are clearly some kind of machinery well beyond my scope of knowledge, I don't know entirely what to do with you." 

Chase placidly laughs, and it sounds almost robotic. "Since you repaired my voice box, I could walk you through reparations, if you could be so kind. I am in bad shape, but since I awoke from stasis, I am stable for the time being." 

"What is the end goal?" Moving some hair away from your forehead, you unknowingly leave a streak of dirt there. "I mean, what is the goal in general?"

"It would be best to work on my transformation cog first," You blink slowly at him as if he expected you to understand what that meant. "Then, we can work on all this rust and my internal systems."

"A transformation coil-" You start, but are promptly interrupted. 

"Cog," He corrects.

"Cog." You nod once more as if you knew what you were talking about. "Implies that you transform into something?"

"This is my alternate mode,"  Chase explains simply. "I use my bipedal form most often. It is typically very uncomfortable to remain in alt-mode for extended periods of time."

"Right. Of course." Your hands settle on your hips, shoulders jumping to your ears as his hood slams back into place. 

"Apologies." He mumbles, trying to demonstrate his earnestness. "I understand this is a lot to comprehend, believe me. Be that as it may, you saved me, y/n. I have been sitting in long recharge, rotting in that lot," 

Your nose wrinkles, a heavy feeling perching in your chest. Somewhere, you knew that this was insane, a huge ask and only looking for trouble, however, it was blatantly obvious that he did need help. As astronomical as it may be, you felt as if you were in no position to turn down his plea.

"I don't know if I'll be able to fully help you, Chase." You eventually say, swallowing your rising fears momentarily. "But I'll try. I needed a car, and I guess you're stuck with me just as much as I am stuck with you."

"My mobility functions are in working order." His tires spin once. "As repayment, I will take you wherever you so desire. Many thanks for taking such a task on, I can assure you I will make it as painless as possible."

"That's kind of you," A smile finds its way to your face, unable to stop. "One more question before we get to your transformation cog," 

"Anything. Ask and I will answer to the best of my ability." He replies easily, a lighter, happier hum to his tone.

"You mentioned bipedal form earlier. So who exactly are you?" You move to his door as it opens once more, his center screen lighting as he responds.

"I am an Autobot." The red emblem on the steering wheel alights. "I am Cybertronian, and I was here to learn the inner workings of Earth and protect its inhabitants from Decepticons."

You falter, his rearview mirror turning your way once more. "Kinda like a robot?"

He sighs, but it's half-hearted. "Sure, y/n. Kind of like a robot."

[rescuebabiesau]

I just love this bit. Chase just in the background while Chief and Woodrow argue-

"Oops, I seem to have... Erm..."

"I'm just gonna put this rock back, so-"

"-And... Nope. Not working, lava's still there. Chief-"

"...Yeah, there's a thing I need to bring up-"

"-Yeah. That." (Sheesh!)

[bloodmoon24]

So I just finished watching Transformers: Rescue Bots, and here are my thoughts:

Yes, I’ve watched some episodes as kid. Yes, I wanted to rewatch it to relive good memories. Yes, I love the Bots. My favorites are all of them, but Heatwave is my most favorite. My favorites Burns Family member(s) are Dani and Graham. Yes, I ship Heatwave and Chase. Yes, I hate Morocco so much, I wanna pop him like a zit. Yes, I love QuickShadow and Hightide. I don’t know if I have a favorite episode. No, I don’t think it’s childish. Yes, I find Kade annoying. Yes, I loved how Optimus Prime and Bumblebee made appearances. Yes, I love every funny moment they gave. Yes, Blurr is also annoying, but he has his moments. Yes, I think the Pynches are also annoying. Yes, I love their Dino-Bot modes, they’re badass. And through it all, yes, I love the show so much and it’s worth it

[tranzrobotguy]

I designed the Rescue Bots as humans a bit ago <3

I had fun drawing them, my personal favorite is Bolders or Savages. I might do Hightied because I want a accuse to draw a hot old guy :)

[maria-the-actress]

New questions from Rescue Bots: in the first ever episode of the series, when Chase tells chief Burns of the dinosaur attack his exact answer was "Dinosaurs, again?"

WHY WAS THAT YOUR TO GO QUESTION???? HOW MANY TIMES HAS THIS HAPPEN BEFORE???? HOW DID THEY SURVIVE ON THAT ISLAND BEFORE THE RESCUE BOTS??? HOW ARE THEY ALL STILL ALIVE???

I think we finally got the real reason why the Sigma 17 team got sent there, right Optimus?

[transformersandschtuff]

Based on the moment in "Mayor May Not" where Heatwave calls the Mayor to say Chase wants a debate

Text below cut

[TEXT: (1) "I would like to debate the Mayor as is standard procedure in human political elections...however I have never really been one for confrontation. (2) I AM! Gimme that phone! I'll givem a CONFRONTATION.]

[galaxyfish20]

Chase = one of the funniest characters. He does his best comedy when he doesn’t realize he’s making a joke.

A bunch of loose chickens? He suspects “Fowl” play

Gets told something isn’t his business? Great! He doesn’t even own one!

Someone calls for 911- bro replies “No need citizen! I AM 911” as he puts his shades on

He spent an entire episode narrating his every move and thought process

He has accurately used a “that’s what she said” joke

“And like a swimming pool in the winter time this case is closed”

[fishleeks]

More under the cut!!

After inhaling noir detective films I have begun to throw it back up, now with transformers.

I haven't figured out the actual mystery of this AU yet, but the gist of it is that chase, something of a hobbyist lollipop man/traffic warden now that there isn't so much work for a not-quite-a-cop but not-quite-a-civilian.

When Chase started this side gig, the area was dangerous thanks to its popularity amongst speedsters and drag racers. But a guy with too much free time and the power to issue a dozen fixed speeding fines an hour was enough to discourage speeding in the area, and as a result accidents.

Despite his efforts, the history books remained the same. This area had a history of reckless driving. So when Chase is the sole witness to a frantic driver fatally crashing, he is the only one who seems to think this was abnormal. Without the power to press the issue, and nothing but some bits of potentially missed evidence stashed away crudely after the fact, Chase has no choice but to try and forget what he saw.

That is until Chase is visited by Nightbeat, a detective decidedly not authorised to be pursuing a closed case. But when Chase tells him he thinks there's more to this, Detective Nightbeat listens. And when Nightbeat asks Chase to help him with a minor errand- in the name of justice of course- Chase isn't aware of how deep this rabbit hole would go when he obliges.

[lovinglonerhybrid]

Ok so I just kinda thought of this but I like the idea that tfrb chase is a secret jazz/prowl love child and jazz has no idea that prowl had a kid and sent him to the rescue bots to be raised away from praxis. (I’m thinking this is pre war before they work together professionally) and prowl just never tells him even after there reunited during the war. That is until they get sent on a joint mission to griffin Rock and then prowl has to explain why there’s a bot there calling him creator but looking nothing like a praxian. Oh and prowl also has to call redalert and let him know that heatwaves also on griffin Rock and is not dead in space like every one thought they were.

[daylesspax]

One out of four OG Rescue Bots done!

I might adjust the blending modes more on Blades so you can see the flag colors more clearly, but I’m too lazy to do it rn

Not all of the flag colors are the exact headcanons I have for them, I just needed flags that suited the amount of places to color… the flags do still apply to him and Dani though :)

If you want to know, all the flags/flag colors Blades has right now are:

Gay flag (on the, y’know, big banner stick he’s on. It’s also on the paint splatter on his copter blade)

Pansexual flag (on his windshield thingy and the party banner flags, sorry there are 0 technical terms its 4 am. This flag applies to both him and Dani)

Transgender flag (painted on his left arm and on his left leg)

Queergender flag (painted on his right arm and right leg)

Genderfluid flag (in his left leg rotor)

Genderflux flag (in his right leg rotor)

And the rainbow, of course, partially on the lower party banner and his left shoulder’s paint splatter!

That should be all of them, I might change them tho since they’re pretty redundant (I might change one to be ace or poly, depends since I still need the flags for the other three)

Tell me your RB headcanons and I’ll see if I can include them!

I want to be able to include as much representation for this Pride (since it’s my first time really making art specifically for pride and posting it, I usually forget it’s pride month, but I want to celebrate because I can 👍🏼)