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HE CAN NEVER BE TOO CAREFUL.

DOUBT.

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DOUBT.

He does NOT want Smokescreen's milk.

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He does NOT want Smokescreen's milk.

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SOUNDWAVE DID YOU GET THE MILK

STOP ASKING, HE FORGOT THE MILK OK

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Something important, he's sure.

Frag, he forgot the milk.

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Frag, he forgot the milk.

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He's only socially active again because he heard you can whack people through a screen today.

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// I also know I have some new followers and old ones that haven't seen me in a while, so like this or come bop me in my inbox if you want a starter :)

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// I also know I have some new followers and old ones that haven't seen me in a while, so like this or come bop me in my inbox if you want a starter :)

[silent-stalker]

Detailed Pre-Established Relationship Meme

Send me a ♡ and I’ll bold what I want to see with our muses and italicize things I may be open to! (send “heart!” if the symbol is unavailable)

I want our muses to be: friends | ex-friends | rivals | rivals with sexual/romantic tension | enemies | enemies with sexual/romantic tension | lovers | ex-lovers | partners/coworkers | pen pals/internet friends | friends with benefits | soulmates

Our muses met: as children | as teenagers | as adults | just recently

(for romance) Our muses�� relationship is: still exciting and lively | stable | starting to feel awkward | in jeopardy | romantic, but the sexual attraction is fading | sexual, but the romantic attraction is fading | toxic and self-destructive | unrequited, with my muse pining after yours | unrequited, with your muse pining after mine | determined by fate

(for rivals) Our muses’ relationship is: awkward | fiery | friendly | petty | mostly for show | losing its spark | starting to develop into something more | one-sided, with my muse considering yours a rival | one-sided, with your muse considering mine a rival | determined by fate

(for enemies) Our muses’ relationship is: dangerous to themselves | dangerous to others | based on family matters | based on professional matters | based on lies/misunderstandings | unpredictable | passionate | nothing personal at first, but changes with time | determined by fate

(for friends) Our muses’ relationship is: stable | sickeningly sweet | the kind of close friendship that makes others jealous | falling apart | based on shared interests | based on circumstance (like school or work) | based on family ties | developing into something more (romantic/sexual) | developing into something more (antagonistic) | determined by fate

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SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE !

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Send “Baby” And I will talk about a hypothetical kid from both our muses

This includes crack ships too!

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Soundwave has been...busy, but he is still around. The Nemesis has been.....quiet.

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//I wrote a thing for mine and @polyhexianchicken Prewar Whirlwave AU

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// Just a bunch of tiny bunches of warm ups for Soundwave/Bumblebee and Megatron/Prowl

Under a readmore for length - all prompts are taken sfw, btw, and the links on them lead to songs for the written for the prompt.

@doorwings @wcrkerbee @theslagmaker (no prowl/soundwave yet simply because I'm still trying to figure smth out for that)

37. Hassling the other for attention when they’re needy. (sw/bb)

When arms, warm and bright yellow, wrap around his thin waist, a weight leaning against his back, Soundwave pauses in his typing. Leaning back into the shorter, but stockier mech, he hums something soft and warm.

Bumblebee says nothing, simply rubbing a thumb over a smudge in the purple's mech's armor. He says nothing. But Soundwave knows what he's asking, and he couldn't keep a smile off his face even if he wasn't already turning to gather the yellow scout up with a soft, loving croon.

Thin fingers cradle that adorable, sleepy face, fingers stroking over those puffy, squishy cheeks. With a snickt, Soundwave's visor pops up so he could press a quick, but affectionate kiss to the scout's forehelm, before he lifts Bumblebee and sets off for their quarters, content to let his work pile up for the next day.

No words needed, no verbal begging, just a knowing. An understanding. Bumblebee wanted attention, and was taking advantage of being one of very few mechs capable of touching his back without fear of spooking the spymaster.

And, well, Soundwave was defenseless to this little yellow Autobot's tactics.

41. Whispering that they love them as they kiss them goodnight, unaware that the other is still awake. (sw/bb)

Late at night, with the distant sound of a thunderstorm shaking the world just outside the shaded windows, a yellow mech, half buried in blankets, tries unsuccessfully to doze off. Each crack of thunder has him flinching, silently assuring himself its just weather. It's not the sound of cannons. It's not a blaster going off in the hallway. It's not war.

It's not war. That's over and done with and he's safe with - the door of the hab slid open, letting in one tall, spindly and dark mech. He pauses, silent and looming, for just a second. And then he's at the windows, drawing the noise muffling shades down. Something soft and classical starts playing, and he shuts off the last of the lights.

Bumblebee doesn't bother to online his optics, or move, as Soundwave lifts himself onto the berth with a soft creak of bad knees. The former spymaster does lean over him, visor cast off to the nightstand, he kisses the base of the scout's audial, breathing a soft "love you," before settling in behind him.

Bumblebee doesn't move until he's sure Soundwave is asleep, and its only to press a gentle hand over the thin digits that are now hooked lazily around his frame.

I love you, too.

5. Saying their goodbyes before one leaves for a long period of time. (megs/prowl)

"I'll see you soon." Breathless promises, whispered between desperate kisses and hesitant touches. Prowl's mind was reeling. This was too much, too soon, it was an act of betrayal, he was a traitor - and yet, when Megatron kisses him again, he can only hang from the warlord's arms and kiss back.

"It's not soon enough." Prowl gasps, knocking his forehelm against Megatron's, desperately trying to make his processor speed up, to make this make sense. It doesn't make sense. He shouldn't have worry to miss this mech. He shouldn't be here to begin with!

And yet he is.

"I can't keep doing this." He finally breaks, unable to look up at those genuinely warm, concerned optics. It doesn't make sense for him to be concerned. It feels like hot shame to Prowl. A shame that curled at his mind and taunted him. He shouldn't care about the way a Decepticon looks at him and yet here he is unable to meet one's gaze because they cared about him, because he felt as if he could lay here forever and never move; Prowl would be content to let the world move on without him, if it meant no more long weeks, months, of cold distance, of pretending to hate Megatron.

"One last time," His chin was captured in grey digits, and his head was pulled up to look at the calm, determined warlord. "One last time of this, and then we'll never have to do it again."

"Just get Optimus to sign the peace treaty, and I'll see you again, soon."

29. Moving in together. (megs/prowl)

Prowl is surrounded by boxes. Each one had a room written on it, specifics written in a black marker in his own handwriting. It should be easy. Open the boxes, put away the contents and move on to the next box.

But here he is, sitting in what should be his new kitchen, panic swirling around his spark. Why? The war is over. He doesn't need to hide anymore. No more icy, lonely bursts of time away. He should be fine and yet he's not - his mind is a whirlwind of worry, of anxiety and the towering stacks of boxes are not helping because what if this is a mistake and -

"Prowl?" A heavy hand falls on his shoulder, breaking his pattern of thought. He looks behind him, and through the fog recognizes the large frame of Megatron; of his long hidden lover.

"I told you not to overwhelm yourself." The former warlord murmurs, hooking his hands around the praxian and pulling him up to his pedes. From up here, the stacks of boxes look significantly less threatening. Prowl lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, and he hooks his digits into the seams on Megatron's chest.

"I'm not - I'm fine. I just....I think I should start in the berth room, instead. Less...less new things and more of our things and -"

"Shh," Megatron hummed, leaning forward to rub his hand down the base of Prowl's doorwings, knowing how it calmed the former SiC. "We can unpack later, it's not that important. I saw a new cafe when I was coming back from the office. Let's go check it out, hm? Give us both a break."

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Hey yall, I know I haven't been around but I've been struggling to keep my head above water. Right now I've come up short on rent, and am once again offering commissions, both in writing and in art forms.

If you just wanna throw some extra change my way, I'll still write a drabble of your chosen ship: just screenshot your donation and send it to me!

https://venmo.com/u/WendigoRae

You can also venmo me directly, as right now gofundme is having a rather big hissy fit with me.

I am sorry to ask for this, but I'm at a loss for what to do.

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Send me a ship + a prompt, a word or an emoji and I'll write a short drabble or headcanon about that ship

bonus points if the ship is a rarepair