#2022TFRarePairingFest

[jujucomet]

2022TFRarePairingFest Breakdown/Bulkhead, and Waspinator/Tarantulas.

[tfrarepairing]

GREETINGS GENTLEBEINGS!! AFTER THE SUCCESS OF LAST YEAR’S EVENT, THE TRANSFORMERS RARE PAIRING COMMUNITY IS PLEASED TO PRESENT:

RARE PAIRING FEST 2022!!

Rare Pairing Fest is a now-annual event we host, with the goal of getting more of our favorite rare pair content out into the universe! Like last year, we’re going to use the new format, instead of the the 2020 and prior years format! Used to, we’d pull old prompts from the weekly request posts and put them back up again, but this year we’re bringing new prompts and you all will attach YOUR favorite rare pairs to them!

This year’s event will run from October 16-29, 2022! There will be 28 prompts (two for each day) with seasonal themes. 

The prompt list is broken down by day, and posted below. You create your work and then post to Twitter, Tumblr, Dreamwidth and/or Pillowfort on the correct day. All participants will get a participation graphic, and anyone who makes a fill for all 14 days will get a special prize! There are no minimums or maximums for this event and ALL content types are accepted (including photos & hand crafts!) Also, all ratings are accepted, but please tag appropriately! And don’t forget the #2022TFRarePairingFest tag! ALSO, if you’re participating in another event (Inktober, LLFest, etc) please feel free to double dip your pieces! (No one has enough time in the day to create two or three or more pieces and Mod eerian will never expect you to!) 

Now, the prompts:

October 16: Hot Drink // Leftovers

October 17: Feeling Groovy // Feeling Emotional

October 18: Date Night // Staying Home

October 19: Board Games // Live Performance

October 20: Falling Leaves // New Sprouts

October 21: Bad Weather // Cloudless Skies

October 22: Star Filled Night // Painted Sunrise

October 23: Scary Stories // Happy Endings

October 24: Old Holidays // New Traditions

October 25: Pirates // Ninjas

October 26: Ghosts // Newly Born

October 27: Grave Robbing // History in the Making

October 28: Horror // Fantasy

October 29: Trick // Treat

[inhumanetrash]

Day 7 of tf rare pairing fest :-)) the prompt was starry night

I took the opportunity to draw my crack ship (which I ship unironically lmao) and draw them :-))

The ship is Micronus Prime/Unicron (tfp)

Where did this ship come from and why? I don’t know,it just started existing in my brain on its own

[decepticannibal]

October 19: Board Games // Live Performance

Optimus can carry a tune, he just gets nervous :’(

[renewablenergon]

Day #20 - Yarrow: magic, everlasting love, token of good fortune

October 20: Falling Leaves // New Sprouts

[sturthepotofmadness]

Star Filled Night / Painted Sunrise

[writing-ro]

TF Rarepairing Fest Day 5: Falling Leaves

Not much to say for this prompt, it's short, sweet, and I just love the idea that OP goes to Griffin Rock to relax, so of course he'd bring June with him if they're dating. Enjoy!

Rarepair: June Darby/Optimus Prime

Also on: [AO3] [FFN]

~~~

June had never really experiences a “postcard perfect” fall.

Growing up in Nevada, the temperatures didn’t really lend themselves to leaves slowly changing to vibrant reds, yellows and oranges before falling to the ground. And when visiting family out of state, it was always either summer and the trees were green and lush, or it was Thanksgiving or Christmas and the leaves had already fallen off. 

So, when Optimus suggested a picnic date on Griffin Rock, June had to fight to maintain composure. Once they had crossed the groundbridge, made their pleasantries to the Burns and the Rescue Bots, and headed out onto the forest, however, she was grinning as widely as Raf had when the Bots had taken the kids to an Arctic snow day. 

Once far enough from town to avoid detection, Optimus transformed and the pair walked among the trees, June taking delight in the snap and crunch of them under her feet, and even dancing through a shower of leaves when a gust of wind knocked them down. 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Optimus said after she had done that, smiling his sweet smile at her. 

“I’ve always loved fall, or at least the idea of it.” She tilted her head back to look up at him, a hand at the back of her head to keep her hat on. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to properly experience it, and it’s better than I’d dreamed.”

“Then no matter what else happens today, I accomplished my goal.” He knelt down and reached for her, brushing his curled knuckles against her side. “All I want is to make you happy, June.”

June leaned against his digits, nuzzling against the top one. “You do, Optimus. Very much so.” She beckoned him to lean down, and pecked a kiss to his lip plates when he was close enough. “There is no place I’d rather be, nor anyone I’d rather be with, than right here with you.” 

“I feel the same.” Optimus returned the kiss the best he could, then stood up. “Come, it’s not much further.”

They had their picnic on a lovely outlook with a gorgeous view of the island and the ocean, only heading down when the sun started to sink to the horizon. As they made their way down the mountain, however, they heard some loud noises and, after sharing a look, went to investigate. 

What they found was the Rescue Bots and the Burns in a clearing, with the largest leaf pile June had ever seen. It went up almost to Optimus’s waist, and as they approached, Blades dropped more on top, while the bottom was shaped a bit by Bolder before they turned back to their root modes. 

“Optimus Prime, sir!” Heatwave said, giving a salute that Optimus quickly dismissed. “And Ms. June.” He nodded to where she was sitting on Optimus’s shoulder. 

“What are you all up to?” she asked, looking around. 

“Cody told us it’s human tradition to jump into piles of fallen leaves,” Chase explained. “So we gathered all the raked leaves on Griffin Rock to make our own.”

“Except the piles still in yards,” Blades added. “We made sure to leave those alone.”

“I think you mean ‘leaf’ those alone,” Graham said, laughing while Kade groaned at the pun. 

“We made a human sized pile too, so we can jump together,” Cody said, pointing to a much smaller, though still large, pile that was off to the side. “You wanna join us?”

“I’m not sure if we should…” Optimus glanced at June for her response. 

“I’ll do it if you will.” She leaned in to whisper into his audial. “And if you do it, I’ll scrub away all the leaf dirt once we’re home.”

Optimus managed to keep his engine rev quiet, but June could feel his plating warm under her. “Alright. I will join you.” He set June on the ground and joined the Rescue Bots at their pile, while June joined the Burns family, linking hands with Cody and Dani. 

“On the count of ‘jump’,” Charlie said. “One. Two. Three. Jump!”

The explosion of leaves could be seen from town, though luckily the peals of joyful laughter didn’t carry quite so far.

[tarklesbehindthescenes]

The robot equivalent of Shadow the Hedgehog and a blue bot with a red sports car fetish

Pairing: Side Burn/Ultra Magnus

Continuity: Robots in Disguise 2001

Prompt: Horror

AO3

Side Burn leaned into Ultra Magnus’ side, optics wide and alert as he stared at the TV screen in front of them. On said screen, he had put on a well-known horror flick. ‘The Ring’ if Magnus recalled the title correctly. Something about a human girl and a cursed video tape. Side Burn said that humans swore that it was a great horror experience and that he wanted to watch it, but only if Magnus would watch it with him.

The rogue didn’t really get it, but didn’t put up much of a resistance to the idea. Though now that he was watching the film, he found himself regretting the decision. Not because it was scary. But because it was utterly boring. Humans found this sort of thing frightening? The little girl wasn’t frightening in the least. She needed shorter hair; its length was ridiculous. The death scenes weren’t that scary. And this movie was based around a series of bad decisions the main characters made. Why was it so hard not to make smart decisions? Like, why did they keep watching the death video? Why didn’t they just take the tape and destroy it? Why did they make a copy if it kills people?!

“These protagonists are stupid,” Ultra Magnus griped.

Side Burn turned his head to gape up at him, pausing the movie as he did. “Really?”

“What do you mean, ‘really’? If you were in their position, would you actually watch the video and make a copy of it for study?” the taller mech inquired.

“No, never in a million years!” the blue bot yelped. “I’d chuck that thing as far out to sea as I could!”

Magnus nodded. “See, that’s because you’re smart. These humans aren’t.”

Side Burn blinked at him, then smiled. “You think I’m smart? Aw, thanks, Mags!”

The larger mech shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “I’m just stating the truth. Take it how you will. How much longer does this go on for?”

“Uhhh, I think we’re a little over halfway,” the smaller mech answered. “Why?”

“I might get in a nap, then,” Magnus decided.

Side Burn stared at him incredulously. “You’re not scared at all??” he gaped.

“No. This isn’t scary in the slightest. It might have some creepy moments, but those moments are brief.”

“Wow, Mags, you’re one brave spark! I’m barely holding myself together here!” Side Burn exclaimed. “Hey, I know! Maybe if you held me, some of that bravery of yours would leak into me. Worth a try, right?”

The rogue frowned at him with utter confusion, wondering how Side Burn even remotely jumped to that conclusion. “That’s not at all how that works.”

Side Burn pouted slightly and persisted. “Aw, come on. It can’t hurt your ego to try, can it?”

Ultra Magnus heaved a sigh and caved. “Fine, fine. I don’t get how it’ll help, but fine.” He proceeded to wrap one arm around the youngest Autobot brother and held him close. “Happy?”

The smaller mech nuzzled further into Magnus’ side before replying, “Yes. Much better. Now I can take on the rest of what this movie has to throw at us.” He then paused and added with a hint of a nervous tone, “I hope.” He then unpaused the movie and went quiet again.

Ultra Magnus didn’t bother with paying attention to the movie anymore. He simply let his head loll to the side and shut his optics, setting himself up for a short nap like he promised. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but having Side Burn pressed up against him made him feel more relaxed, which made it easier for him to wind down and eventually pass out. No, he would never admit that to anyone. …But he would try to subtly set this type of scenario up again. Once in a while.

[pale-fairytales]

Bad Weather || TF rarepair fest!

"Don'cha ever wanna leave the lab, big guy?" 

Skyfire supposes he should have expected the question, given how long he's been in this lab now. He blinks, staring at the meteorological map the program had put together before him, at the silhouette of the clouds laden with what he could only assume was snow drifting steadily over their area of operation.

"No," he wistfully answers, dragging the screen to look at other, less affected areas. He hears his tiny partner give a soft sigh. "It's more comfortable here." 

"Aw, c'mon, Sky. You're in here a lot. Don't you ever want to see the outside of a lab?" Jazz looks up at him with a pout on his plush, soft dermae, and Skyfire knows he is pouting by the sound of his voice, and he smiles, but he does not look at him. He can't tear his gaze from the sonar, at the raging storm incoming. No escape. It's likely they would all be snowed in—Decepticons, too. No fighting, today, because the war is cruel, and sometimes, it's necessary to embrace the cold. Skyfire can only be grateful that he is not out there. Not again. Not like last time. 

"It's familiar. You're welcome to stay in here and chat with me while I work on some—passion projects." He glances at the Martini Porsche, who pouts up at him still, and Skyfire can't help but grow a bittersweet smile, because his old friend once used to pout like that, the same friend that had, somehow, linked the two of them. Jazz, ever the fervent one, steps closer, attempting to peek up, at the sonar. 

"What're ya lookin' at?" He asks. And Skyfire knows he is not as well versed in science as he is, but bless his little spark for being interested. He smiles softly, still, at the second in command.

"Well, I'm working on an old project from my academy days. It might help us, given the energon shortage, but–" Skyfire sighs softly. "Starscream might have the rest of the recipe. So I'm refining it. But none of my experiments appear to be helping me complete the puzzle." 

Jazz looks up again, more into his face. The shuttle can feel a two-tap against his leg—their agreed upon signal for the Martini Porsche to be lifted up. He leans down, and gently picks the younger bot up. 

"You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, and Skyfire has to smile at him, still, because it has never done him good not to do so. "I know you were torn up, after that last fight." 

Skyfire can feel his smile falter. 

"He was my best friend." The word 'was' stings so unexpectedly hard. "I never wanted things to end the way they did." 

"Aw, Sky." Jazz is so gentle when he gently rubs the apex of Skyfire's knuckle, on his digit, before he is rested on Skyfire's shoulder. "It isn't your fault, you know." 

Isn't it? Sky feels the need to ask. I am the one who got himself frozen. 

"I wanted to do right by him. But I couldn't keep him safe." Skyfire tries to abate the swell and ache of his spark as he reminisces the past, how things used to be, should've been, would've always been if this stupid war never broke out. "And then—" 

The meteorological map switches. The light flickers. The storm is right upon them. He can practically hear the freezing winds, and he shudders. 

"You good?" Jazz asks, and Skyfire doesn't answer initially. He swears it's too cold in there. He swears his HUD flashes again. He swears he can still feel his body locking up. "'s gonna be okay, Sky."

"I wasn't trying to get frozen," Sky softly says, unable to ignore his spark's hurt. "I didn't mean to leave him to get hurt." And he means this. And Jazz knows he means this, even though Sky's faceplates are stolid and his optics are glossy and focused on something or other. Jazz presses a gentle servo into the side of his faceplate, "I promised him." I promised to always follow.

"It ain't your fault, Sky." Jazz softly says to him, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his helm, and both of them know, logically, words alone can't fix this. His friendship is dissolved, disintegrated, for what? A stupid war. A stupid war that took too many things from Starscream. That made problems that Skyfire knows, realistically, he cannot fix on his own, though he is desperate to do so. "Sometimes friendships jus' fall apart."

"But I didn't want this one to fall apart," Sky can't help but find himself saying, in the softest voice, because on the monitor, on the many cameras, he can see the snowfall, the flurries of white, and it brings him back to that blizzard, and all at once, he can't help but want to cry. To comm Star and tell him how sorry he was. To tell him he made a mistake. "We were supposed to become Cybertron's finest scientists together."

"I know, Sky," Jazz murmurs to the shuttle, leaning against him, softly peppering his faceplates and helm in kisses, as if to tell him that it's okay. Because Jazz knows he can never take away that hurt. "I know, baby."

Sky never did understand that term of endearment. But he's never questioned it, because Jazz never questioned him, Jazz always respected his feelings, because Jazz knows how to protect a secret, and Skyfire knows that feelings are better kept put to the side, a secret within a secret. He turns his helm, and presses a soft kiss in response to Jazz's helm.

"I apologize. I'm not a fan of the cold weather. It makes me...nostalgic." he rumbles, keeping his gaze on Jazz, because sometimes he is the perfect distraction, and sometimes Jazz is so comforting, and sometimes he feels far too self indulgent not to look at his pretty partner. Jazz was not trusting of him at first—understandably, no one was—but here he is, now. Able to, willing to, happy to tell him things would be okay, and to pepper his face in kisses. The thought alone is enough to keep him warm.

"Don'cha worry 'bout it," Jazz hums a musical note, one he can immediately recognize as the one Jazz makes when he is content. Skyfire smiles his shy, goofy smile, unable to stop himself from kissing again. "Given the ordeal ya went through, I don't blame ya."

"Thank you." And Skyfire means it when he says that. "I love you."

"Feelin' romantic today, big guy?" Jazz laughs his musical laugh, the one that can make any and all mechs and femmes fall to their knees for. "You're so cute. Love ya too, Sky."

It's been a long time since bad weather didn't make Skyfire nervous. But he doesn't mind or even notice it, now. He presses a soft kiss against Jazz's dermae, soft and gentle and loving, like satin, if only to let Jazz know that he was always safe with him, regardless of bad weather or being cold. Jazz reciprocates eagerly.

Bad weather isn't always so bad, Skyfire reckons. You just need the right person to keep you warm.

[lagoona-blu]

TF Rarepair Week 2022

Day 1: Hot Drink

Pairing: TFP Bulkhead/Wheeljack

Hi everyone, Raye here! I'm so excited to be partaking in my first big Transformers writing challenge! Sorry I'm posting this on the last day of the challenge. I've been working on polishing my stories and I meant to post them all together tonight and then got dragged on a last minute vacation. I'll post the rest of them once I get home, I'm so excited to share them!

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

At least Optimus hadn't sent them to the Arctic. 

   That thought motivated Bulkhead as he trudged on through the thick snow, hearing the crunch under his large pedes. He fought back a shiver as the icy wind bit at his green and silver frame. The big bot reassured himself that the payoff of this mission was worth freezing his aft off for. The Autobots had recently discovered that nestled deep within the copper-rich landscape of Michigan's upper peninsula lay an enormous vein of energon. Running critically low on resources, they'd sent Bulkhead and Wheeljack to gather as much energon as they possibly could.

   And speaking of Wheeljack…

   "If Prime wants this so badly, then why didn't he come and get it himself?" the Wrecker grumbled, shaking a light coating of snow off his frame. Bulkhead could tell his sweetspark was cold and miserable, though he was powerless to remedy either issue. Wheeljack despised being ordered around by authority figures (even if said bot was someone as good-natured as Optimus Prime), and spending most of his time aboard his ship meant that Wheeljack was unaccustomed to below freezing temperatures. 

   "He's probably just busy running the base," Bulkhead reasoned, hoping the answer would satisfy his partner. "Besides, last time Optimus went somewhere cold he almost didn't come back." The green bot shuddered at the memory of the day the entire Autobot faction had almost met its demise. Arcee refused to be sent on any mission in a cooler climate, clearly still shaken up by the incident, and Optimus tended to avoid them whenever possible. As for Bulkhead, while his physical wounds from the scraplet attack had healed, the mental scars would forever remain. 

   Bulkhead shook the negative thoughts from his processor. He couldn't get distracted from the task at servo, not when they were oh-so close to finally reaching the energon deposit. Once this miserable mission was over, the green Autobot and his partner could return to the base in warm, sunny Nevada. They'd spend the rest of the cycle cuddled up in berth together, mostly silent except for the occasional complement of their sweetspark's hard work on such a harsh mission. And maybe, just maybe in their warm and cozy states, Bulkhead could convince his beloved to stay with the Autobots for good. 

   Realizing that Wheeljack had fallen behind, Bulkhead paused for a moment to let his partner catch up. He couldn't help but notice the intense shivers that wracked the Wrecker's frame. "We should almost be there, Jackie," the green bot promised with a sympathetic smile. As if on cue, the small energon sensor that Bulkhead carried began to beep wildly. The pair had finally reached their destination. 

   "About fragging time," came Wheeljack's breathy chuckle. Bulkhead couldn't help but smile at his partner's response. Even in the cold of winter, the Wrecker's laugh filled him with warmth. The Autobot took a few steps forward, letting his servo transform into a wrecking ball. Optimus had given the pair strict orders to not destroy any natural copper deposits, seeing as it was a valuable resource to humans. As such, Wheeljack was barred from using his grenades to just blow a hole in the surrounding area. 

   However, the Wrecker never played by the rules, something Bulkhead knew all too well. 

   Realizing he wouldn't be able to split the ground deep enough with just his wrecking ball, Bulkhead let his servo return to normal. They'd have to use a grenade to reach the energon, there was no other viable option. As long as Optimus didn't decide to investigate the site later on, the pair would be fine. And if the two bots were able to gather up all the energon themselves, not missing a single crystal, there wouldn't even be a reason for the last of the Primes to visit the location. 

   "Hey Jackie, toss me a grenade, will ya?"

   Silence. That was odd.

   "Look, I won't tell Optimus, promise."

   Nothing. No grenade tossed in the green Autobot's general direction. 

  "C'mon Wheeljack, stop messin' around."

   Still no reply. Bulkhead began to grow worried. Why wasn't his partner responding to him?

   "...Jackie?"

   The Autobot turned around just in time to see his partner collapse face down into the snow. Energon be damned, saving his sweetspark was more important right now. 

"Jackie!" Bulkhead gasped, blue optics wide as he practically ran through the thick snow. He carefully scooped up the Wrecker in his arms, holding him close. Wheeljack's frame was cold to the touch, and even in his unconscious state he violently shivered. If he didn't warm up soon, he risked severe damage to his internal systems. They had to get out of the freezing cold as soon as possible or Wheeljack stood no chance of surviving this mission. 

   With shaking digits Bulkhead activated his comm link. "Ratchet, we need a bridge, now! It's an emergency!" he shouted, trying to keep his rising fear from bleeding into his tone. Almost immediately a groundbridge appeared before the two bots. The Autobot medic didn't waste any time when a life was in danger. Bulkhead stood up, still carrying the unresponsive Wheeljack in his arms, and raced into the portal as fast as his legs could carry him. He prayed to Primus there was still time left to save the Wrecker, and that today wouldn't be the day that Bulkhead lost his true love. 

   Wheeljack was offline for more than two hours. 

   Upon reentering the Autobot base, the Wrecker had been laid out on a medical berth for Ratchet to examine. The medic had made the quick assessment that nothing was seriously wrong with Wheeljack, much to the relief of Team Prime. He'd concluded that Wheeljack was simply not used to below-freezing temperatures and his internal systems were overwhelmed trying to stave off the cold. Ratchet had placed a thick thermal sheet over the Wrecker in an effort to raise the bot's temperature and speed up his recovery. However, even with the thermal covering and the heat of the Nevada desert his frame still trembled with a faint shiver. 

   For the entirety of those nerve-racking two hours Bulkhead sat on the edge of the medical berth, holding his sweetspark's servo. When blue light finally flickered in Wheeljack's optics, Bulkhead let out a loud sigh of relief. He helped the Wrecker slowly sit up, earning a groggy groan from the mech in question. Before he even knew what was happening an apology began to spill from the green Autobot's intake. "Jackie, I'm so so sorry," he rambled, "I knew you wouldn't handle the cold well and I still asked you to come with me on the mission. You suffered because I just wanted to spend time with you. I'm so-"

   Bulkhead was immediately silenced by Wheeljack grabbing his helm and pulling him into a kiss. All at once the green Autobot's guilt melted away, leaving him with a warm, relaxed feeling in his spark. It was clear from the gentle aura of Wheeljack's EM field that he wasn't mad at his sweetspark. Instinctively Bulkhead wrapped an arm around his lover, and in response the Wrecker leaned into his side. He was glad for the fact the children were currently in school, or Miko would never let him live down this tender moment. With their frames so closely pressed together, the Autobot could still feel Wheeljack's slight shiver, and an idea popped into Bulkhead's processor.

   Bulkhead placed a quick kiss atop Wheeljack's helm before suddenly standing up and walking off deeper into the base. The Wrecker watched in silent curiosity, waiting to see what exactly the Autobot was planning. When Bulkhead returned just a few minutes later, he was carrying a large tray with two piping hot cubes of energon. Wheeljack couldn't help but smile at his sweetspark's thoughtful gesture. Under the tough exterior, the Autobot had always been a softie with a big spark. 

   "Figured you could use something to warm you up," Bulkhead said, sitting back down on the medical berth. He carefully handed one of the cubes to Wheeljack before taking the second for himself. The pair sat in comfortable silence, casually sipping their drinks and just enjoying each other's company. The Wrecker could slowly feel his frame warming up at last, aided by the hot energon as well as his close proximity to his partner. Once he'd finished refueling, Wheeljack carelessly tossed the cube aside, watching it skitter across the medbay. He made a mental note to pick it up before Ratchet returned to the area, knowing the medic would throw a fit otherwise.

   Bulkhead was the one to finally break the silence. He opened his intake to apologize, but shook his helm. Wheeljack had made it clear that the Autobot wasn't to blame for the incident and didn't want him to feel remorseful about their disastrous mission. After a deep invent, he tried again. "Optimus said he'll return for the energon later," Bulkhead said, his optics trained on the cube of said resource, "Doesn't want you going back out there and offlining again. Ratchet agrees." Once more he resisted the urge to apologize for dragging Wheeljack into the ice and snow.

    Wheeljack let out a hum of understanding, feeling too tired to give a proper response. Even after being unconscious for two hours the Wrecker was exhausted. Now that he was finally warm, largely thanks to the hot energon Bulkhead had generously prepared, he could feel himself drifting towards a proper recharge. He leaned with his whole weight against Bulkhead once more, listening to the beat of his spark. He could fall into recharge right here, right now…

   "Want the rest of mine, Jackie?" Bulkhead asked, snapping the Wrecker out of his sleepy state. He nodded, swiping the still-warm cube out of his sweetspark's servos and guzzling down the hot energon in one go. The Autobot chuckled at his lover's enthusiastic response, watching as the Wrecker chucked the now-empty cube to the floor. Truth be told, Wheeljack couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper refueling. He only ever recharged or refueled when it was absolutely necessary for his survival. He'd lost track of just how many times both Ratchet and Bulkhead had lectured him on his unhealthy habits. 

   Bulkhead felt Wheeljack's shivering dissipate, the warm energon doing the trick. After watching Wheeljack finish the second cube, the green Autobot could tell that his sweetspark was just a few kliks away from falling into recharge. He pulled the Wrecker in closer, placing another soft kiss on the top of his helm. "Love ya, Bulk," Wheeljack murmured, voice already edged with recharge. "Love you too, Jackie," Bulkhead replied, to which the Wrecker promptly offlined his blue optics. Here, deep in the deserts of Nevada, Wheeljack was warm, safe, and well taken care of. Most importantly, however, he was loved.

Maybe being a member of Team Prime wouldn't be such a bad thing after all...

[dramamelon]

TF Rare Pairing Fest 2022: Huh, Small World Prompt 3: Date Night | Staying Home Pairing: Bluestreak/Streetwise Characters (overall): Mixmaster, Onslaught, references to Vortex, Bluestreak, Streetwise, Drift, Rodimus, Hot Spot, Prowl, First Aid Rating: T Tags for Prompt: Alternate Universe, Minimal Editing, Slow Romance, Family Drama, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Melodrama Summary: Wherein lives lived on a Cybertron without the civil war (though wars still exist) meet and entwine in unexpected ways. A connected collection. Chapter Summary: The family reunion is not a particularly happy one. Melodrama in my fic? Always! 🤣

[pluralsword]

Mutuality/Sapphism

Also found at: [AO3]

Spacewarp/Perihelion, pg-13

With the hundreds of diplomats, sages, leaders, scouts, scientists, filework nerds, and errant warriors around to choose from in Lodestar's hull's big meeting hall to share our thoughts through embraces, there was one I hadn't been able to get out of my head all evening since she walked up to a podium and started talking several hours ago, now deep in some sort of playful parlay over a multiversal alliance community…

The heavy, sturdy steps of her bulky winged firetruck frame. the excited or bemused faceplate ruffling as they talked pleasantries, the sword at her side, the large open gestures towards people, the casual touch with people she knew, the hands over their spark. Vivacious, not afraid to level words of reproach when someone tried to dig at her diplomatic stance. I was affixed on their words when I looked away, barely processing the details, but hearing her bravery. I knew it was their diplomacy face and voice, but she also clearly spoke from profound belief about the autonomy of sapient entities and their communities cohabitating with the cosmos, transforming together.

God damn, I couldn't remember the last time someone like a woman had this brain module melting effect on me, and that I had admitted it to myself. I was used to feeling cool and flourishing with pizazz. What's my name? Oh right, Spacewarp. I had been so level-headed with Chromia, our cuddling and kisses left me with a thoughtful rush, but Perihelion...

Wowza, totally different equally enjoyable reaction. I love the multiverse.

Perihelion stepped away from Nautica who is also a cutie with her diplomacy special interest cryptid altertransformer shtick and those round turbine fins aw bolts, and the other delegates of their seven-fold group and strode towards me, waving.

My body tensed up immediately and I urged it to relax and loosen, and I almost fell over in the process. Wait she's coming towards me, what do I do be cool uh uh "Hi mighty sweetspark, what can I do for you?" I offered hands to clasp. What the scrap was that Spacewarp!?! My head filled with heat, and I tried to keep the embarassment out of my optics. “I um, lets start over.”

They laughed merrily, and met my hands with hers, and then inched their fingers over to hold mine briefly before letting go. I was totally flummoxed that she had taken my awful line or my apology so well. Was it awful? It was ironic I guess, whatever you do don't stare at the wheels on the sides of their thighs-

"Hey, Spacewarp, I was really impressed by your speech railing against imperial adventurism and disavowing the Decepticons on that basis. I've heard a lot about you from Flamewar and Grimlock about your cosmic kindness and wisdom, can we talk? I want to get to know you better, see if you'd be interested in helping the Mystibots, and uh-" she stopped for a moment, wheels on their wings whirring.

My brain module fired off a flurry of thoughts: she knows two of my fling pals, they wants me to do something with her faction, she wants to get to know me, scrap where is this going-

My wings teetered up and down. "Um, you were saying-"

"To explore mutual interests, sweetspark. I presume that's why your optics have been locked on me for several astro-cycles every time you look over where I happen to be before you look away and try to engage somewhere else. I'm quite flattered that the eloquent and known gallant rogue Spacewarp has been given pause by me. Am I presuming too much? I'm sorry-"

I guffawed. "No no, it's okay, you got it," I reached out to her hands and gave them a squeeze. "I'd like that. Sit with me a while, and then maybe a dance?" My mind finally started to get a grip. Common ground, thank Primus. "Let's start with why me?"

"Heh," they sat down in the chair next to me at the round table, and I joined her. "For the job? Already said. Me and you?" the pink and cyan biolight lines on her torso sides and forearms of her lavender frame brightened with a pulse. "Because I think you're sweet, because you have an honesty to you, because I think about how our big frames would complement each other holding one another... this is why I want to know you more, I need more than that. Your turn, what got you into me?"

"Ah, I get that," I laughed, confidence flowing a bit more at their compliments until my brain got stuck on the image of sitting in her arms, watching the stars, which left me excited and teaming with charge in my circuits. "Really do. You- you have this savvy, dedicated and passionate fire in you that I can only guess is why you have a Matrix of Leadership in your chest, you're a- new vocabulary for me" not sapphic, remember she's on a totally different aesthetic framework than your trans enby aft, "swordwielding trans torqdare mutuality is just a mood and a vibe all at once, I really like that. Something to do with liking people I can trust to watch my afterburner, but also it's my terminal sapphic brain, you get me?"

"I definitely do, 'sapphic brain'," she chuckled, and I snorted at their joke. "Maybe Sapphicwarp would be a good nickname... if I understand what you mean by your vocabulary, you've certainly picked up on how to talk about my aesthetic hearth." She put her hand over the middle of their chest, and leaving me a bit in awe at her easy flow over her love for that. "I'm a mutuality kind of dare myself, as you say. Your, aesthetic is-"

"I'm a sapphic nonbinary gal, on the masculine-spectrum side of things, your honor, and that's a lovely name," I nodded. "And um, what would you like to know about me? What I do, what I like, you've already heard much, I gather."

"Well, Sapphicwarp," Perihelion leaned on her hand while looking at me, and I felt like I was going to melt again from her words and gaze. "I guess what I want to know besides your love for reading, history, geography, music, languages, what do you do for fun when you're not traveling or in deep space between places? Besides sharing family time with your minibot pals."

"Oh uh, some of what you said, listening to music, reading the loads of books we've got downloaded or letting Boom Tube read to me, write my logs, think about folks I love, catch up on the latest Robot City Stone episode, and there's this 22nd century human-made evolution game from cells to space I really like when I don't got spoons for anything else..."

"Aww, that's really cool," she leaned back in her chair. "I really like reading too, philosophy stuff, tabletop board game manuals and fan supplements. That game sounds really interesting... we have an equivalent back home that was a multispecies project from when I was young, would you like a copy? It's one of my favorites, especially the procedural comic panel visual novel portions-"

"Please, I'd love that," I reached out a hand, and they put theirs on mine. "I've been meaning to get into the visual novel genre because there's just so, so much sapphic stuff there from over the millennia, but just couldn't find a gateway one in with pacing and replayability to my liking."

"It's called Assemblage of Stars, it has co-op, if you'd like," she winked. "I'll get you one from my quarters later, thumb drive with my other stuff and mods, and also the OS it runs on."

"I think I'd like that," I mellowness flowered in me, their hand touching mine, her glorious path crossed with my own, my frame and circuits feeling overjoyed in their shape sharing this moment, and the predictable urge after brought itself to words in my mouth. "I um, I know we can chat more, about where we're from, what our boundaries are, but I'll lay them flat on the table to level with you and then ask if you'd like to dance. I like kissing, my faceplate does come off, and I'm happy to share touch with limbs, terms of endearment are fine, not big on derogatory talk, am okay with touch anywhere, I just um, don't have what most members of a lot of organic species have-"

"Pff don't worry darling, even if I was interested in sex I don't have parts or wiring for that either and don't want them on me," she nodded and gave my hand a pat, leaving me content with their attention there. "My faceplate doesn't come off, but I am happy to receive kisses or nuzzle heads, and yeah I don't like put downs either. I do like gestalt patching though, sharing minds, if you'd like to try someday."

"Hmm, I think after we talk more after our dance, that would be swell. Would you be okay with me smooching you while we sashay in tempo?" I sighed, circuits cool and graceful, bustling.

"Yes, yes I would, and I think talking more after letting our bodies get to know each other on the dance floor is a good idea," she stood, letting go of my hand to offer an elbow. "Would love to lock elbows on the way there, thinking the observatory deck, stuff is nice and slow there."

"Uh, sure, that does sound perfect," I got to my feet and wrapped my arm around hers, and we made our way through the hall, greeting people in passing who we knew on the way out, and took the nearest turbolift, leaning in the blue gray wall of the big square after pushing the button for the observatory deck.

We gazed at each other some more as the turbolift propelled towards our destination. I was awash with feelings about how adorable Perihelion was and had been the whole time, holding her peace and to my delight enjoying mine. I reached out to her other shoulder and then wrapped my arm around her head. "I have half a mind to nuzzle heads with you right now, if you want, Perihelion Prime."

They responded by leaning in, her head’s wave crested helm clonking their faceplate with my own, rubbing up and down, pressing her helm guards occasionally with my own. I did my best to reply in kind, embracing her, sensors soft and attuned to her in my faceplate and mouth underneath, and my frame close with hers.

Endearing, quiet moments, slow and steady, filling my mind with the time and love, brought to a stop by the turbolift doors opening in front of the domed observatory. We untangled from our hug and stepped out, holding hands, chuckling, into the starry windows with soft notes wafting through the dancing crowd from a band composed of an armored car Arcee with an electric mini-harp, a sports car Jazz with a cyber-bass, a racecar Hot Rod with a clarinet, and a bird-winged engine-legged Airazor singing wordlessly into a microphone.

“The stars are beautiful, both in the void beyond, and in the people here,” Perihelion hummed. “Like your own.”

“Aw, that’s a mighty fine complement for my spark, dear,” I looked into the constellations of the galactic arm around us, the hilly and light-speckled planet Caminus in view from our high orbit, which I eventually turned to fondly. “You can see the lights of one my favorite planetary community of polities in this universe. I love their take on the Way of Flame, how they embraced the ever-changing aspects of fire, the sense of home, story, and creation, and wary study of fire’s destructive power, that informs their gender systems’ structure and their society… like your hearth, of your own Caminus, no?” I looked over at Perihelion, and her faceplate ruffled with a nod.

“Yes, exactly that,” she slipped out of my hand to put her palms on the sides of my waist, facing me, and I keened quietly with excitement while she laughed. “My embrace of transformative momentum and rotational motion from force, with my carefully shaped heaviness in my frame and my sense of intrepidness and glory in being myself, does make my torqdareness and transness feel like a fire, a shining star. I adore it, and I like how people of this world use their own terms closer to yours for it. Since you have such a love for fire dear, shall we dance?”

“Please,” I put my hands on the sides of her mid-riff, my spark practically bursting from it’s casing, my mind pleased and focused on just Perihelion as they held me. “Something simple and close until the next song, then we can get a little more creative.”

“Mmm, agreed, Sapphicwarp, let’s start with some steps in a square,” Perihelion took a step forward, and I took a step back, and then to the side, which she copied, before taking the next step back, which I followed. Foot by foot, we made a square pattern, hands on our torsos, optics peering into each other’s. My metal frame may as well have softened, and her optics seemed to too, their green luminescence smaller as well, focused on me.

Step by step, we held each other’s torsos, in one another’s gravity. I loved every bit of it, and the quietness spoke volumes about our engagement in the rhythm and holding.

In the corner of my optic, the other three musicians in the band started to sing alongside Airazor, and the song came to a stop shortly after.

Perihelion and I hugged each other close, laughing. I was giddy across my fuselage. A simple thing, the dance we had done, but a nice dip further in mutual interest.

“Do you know the starflung dance?” Perihelion whispered in my audial.

“Maybe not yours, I know others by that name from other worlds,” I smiled under my faceplate, creasing the armor in front of my mouth. “Why don’t you show me when the next song starts?”

“Sure,” we held on a while longer, and then harp sounds came on, and she put one hand on one of my own, gently and firmly. “The idea is that I spin you around in step, and then let go of your waist to let you go into a further ‘orbit’, with you switching the hand that holds mine, and then you close back in and hold me, and do the same thing for me. Ready?”

“Sure,” I let my hand in her grip follow theirs up in front of us, and she started to turn, and I followed, a spinning stroll, note by note, until we came around in full, and she let go of my waist, and I stepped forward and away, letting go of their hand with my left to meet hers with my right, and we spun through several chords. I noticed some folk stop their dancing to watch us, and I gave a little nod and salute, firing my rocket thrusters for a little lift off the ground in the last part of the spin.

“Woohoo, yeah Spacewarp, you got it!” Perihelion cheered while keeping an iron grip on my hand, and I came back down to hold Perihelion close, nuzzling cheek guards again before stepping back and spinning her…

My senses alit and a twirl, I took in her few heavy steps before she took flight, almost pulling me up with them, and I followed her orbit as best as I could, quickly grabbing my faceplate to take it off as I saw them on her way down-

She embraced me under the wings, landing right along my torso, and I put an arm around her head and kissed her on the middle of their faceplate, nice and long.

Quiet cheers sounded around us, as my lips parted from her smooth sturdy faceplate, and she bonked my lips in return with lightness that showed practice, to my mind, the force of her head and neck available but held back. I let out a sigh, and kissed them again.

“Definitely want to get to know you after this, want to spin again, dear torqdare Perihelion?” I whispered.

“Yes, to both, dear Sapphicwarp…” Perihelion sniffed, and bright cyan droplets fell from her optics. “I think I know what that word really means now, it’s so pretty…”

“Aw- aw sweetie, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” I tried rubbing her wings, and they chuckled, still teary.

“It’s okay, it’s euphoria and passion- seeing you in me, though we are so different in other ways, there is a mutuality for sure,” she nuzzled my cheek with hers. “Maybe we could just stand here and kiss instead… I feel so amped up right now in all the right ways.”

“Then let’s do that,” I brought my face in to share more touches of armor and mouth, spark roaring inside me, turning their words over and liking them, my systems all warm and collected. Wowza, I think I love them and want to see if this lasts a while…

[tfrarepairing]

It's Day 3 of Rare Pairing Fest, the Transformers Fandom's all fanworks accepted, all ratings accepted fall rare pair festival!

Your October 18 prompts are:

Date Night

Staying Home

[inhumanetrash]

Day 12 of tf rare pairing fest!

Grr today’s piece is REALLY sketchy because I had no time :-(( (I did but I procrastinated lol)

Silas is sharing his happy moment with fowler who is not impressed to say the least

The prompt was grave robbing to I guess this kinda applies? At least that’s what came to my mind

[decepticannibal]

October 16: Hot Drink // Leftovers

ive never drawn blurr before <33

[sturthepotofmadness]

Star

Notes before we begin:

My second work for the 2022TFRarePairingFest. You can find this elsewhere via these links!: Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42633963 / DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/walloptrout/art/Star-934463563 / FanFic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14153203/1/Star

Real quick stuff [in brackets] means via comms.

Pairing: Prowl X Optimus

Continuity: Animated

Prompts: Ghosts / Newly Born

A few things are implied to have taken place during canon, but the rest is Post-Canon, but it's also a bit of headcanon in the biology and culture aspects.

Also, I know, uncreative title. I didn't know what else to call this.

Read More / Keep Reading for the story/one-shot ->

He couldn't believe they managed to hide this from the others for so long, especially Ratchet. How the medic never noticed, he didn't know, but it kept their secret hidden. That would most likely throw Ratchet through a loop once he learned. Optimus would be unsurprised if he learned something soon, especially after that stunt he just pulled.

Optimus laid on the next of blankets they had set up when they finally noticed, in a cave a few miles out from Detroit and along the coast. Cans of oil and what few Energon cubes they could find were stacked along one of the cave walls, a small pile of metal supplement cans sitting next to the fuel on the side not facing the entrance. He felt the newspark move again, wiggling within his chassis and attempting to push through to its frame. He whined slightly at one of the harsher pushes, rolling to lay on his side.

There was a crackle of energy and Optimus looked up before smiling slightly. Prowl knelt down to him and attempted to place a ghostly servo on his arm, but it just faded through. Another painful push and Optimus whined again.

"It'll be alright, beloved," Prowl stated, moving slightly to sit next to the pile of blankets, a ghostly servo hovering over his stomach area. "Let our child make its way out."

"E-Easy for you to say," Optimus choked. Prowl shook his head slightly, then ghosted his servo over his body. Optimus shivered slightly, then he released a staticky screech as the newspark finally pushed into its frame.

"Vent," Prowl stated, his servo stopped over his shoulder. "Forgive me for not being able to help."

"N-Not-" Optimus began, only to be cut off by another screech as the tiny frame within him pushed. "-Your fault," he finished with static in his voice, before whining and curling his helm down.

"Relax and vent," Prowl repeated. Optimus gave a small nod as the tiny frame continued to move and make its way out.

It was painful, it was long, and at some point Prowl seemed to react with shock but to what he didn't know, but eventually the tiny frame was out of his body.

Optimus vented harshly before looking towards the sparkling. He reached and gathered the crying little one in his arms, bringing it up to his chest. Prowl seemed to stare at where the sparkling laid when it came out for a few moments, then looked to his mate and sparkling. The sparkling, besides being small and thin, had black and dark blue plating, faceplate a greyish blue and optics shut closed as it cried, attempting to snuggle closer to its carrier's spark. However, on its forehead was a four pronged bright yellow star-like, one of its ends going between its shut optics. Grubby little servos gripped onto Optimus's plating as Optimus clicked at the sparkling and rubbed its helm with a servo.

"Beautiful..." Optimus whispered, tired optics trained on the small being.

Prowl moved somewhat closer and looked at the sparkling's face. "Indeed, like a little star," the force-ghost stated.

"Star..." Optimus tiredly repeated. The sparkling softly touched its helm to Optimus's chest, its little mouth opening slightly as if trying to find something. Optimus allowed panel that hid away his feeding lines to open up, the sparkling near immediately noticing it and moving its helm to the line. It sucked and Energon began to make its way into its tiny, hungry frame. "Star fits," Optimus finally said.

"Little Star," Prowl hummed, then nodded.

A few seconds passed in mostly silence, the duo watching Star as it feed. Prowl frowned, looked back towards the other end of the nest, then said, "Optimus, I fear something broke when Star was coming out. You're leaking Energon from your valve."

Optimus didn't seem to notice Prowl said anything, quietly shutting his optics.

Prowl looked at Optimus's faceplate, then recoiled and said, "Optimus, wake up, not now, the sparkling needs you." When no reply came, Prowl attempted to touch his frame, but it just faded through like it wasn't there.

Star near immediately noticed something was wrong, releasing the feeding line and beginning to cry.

Prowl lowered his helm and lifted a servo to his visor, ghostly frame shaking.

-(…)-

"Ratchet said Optimus's signal suddenly went out around here, right?" Bumblebee asked, stopping for a moment and looking Jazz. He stopped on one of the rocks that lined the shore, some of the water splashing onto his plating.

"Yea, mech," Jazz nodded, walking up to Bumblebee. He waded through the water, ignoring how his white plating was dirtying up. "Kept an optic out. Ratchet said the signal came from some kind of cave, so say if you spot one." Bumblebee nodded in reply before bolting ahead of Jazz. The white cyberninja made a small grin and followed the somewhat small yellow mech.

Jazz paused and looked towards the sun as it sat on the horizon. He shook his helm, then his attention snapped towards Bumblebee as he made a screech. Jazz bolted over as Bumblebee stumbled back, crashing into the water.

"What's goin' on?" Jazz asked, coming up to Bumblebee as they sat up in the shallow water. Instead of answering, Bumblebee pointed in front of him. Jazz turned towards where Bumblebee pointed, then froze up. There was a cave, but along one side was fuel and in the center was a nest of blankets with a gunmetal grey frame and a crying black and dark blue sparkling within it.

Jazz bolted into the cave, collecting the sparkling and looking over them. The sparkling cried out, little servos reaching out towards Optimus's dead frame. The cyberninja hugged the sparkling to his chest, watching the little one's faceplates as they continued to cry. He clicked at them, but that just caused the sparkling to cry more and attempt to get out of his grip.

Bumblebee stood up, frame twitching slightly before he lifted a servo to press on his commlink. "Ratchet?" he began.

[Did you find him?] came the immediate reply.

"Yea... but..." Bumblebee started, but went silent.

A few seconds passed, then Ratchet asked, [Kid? What happened?]

"Grey," Bumblebee finally said. Jazz walked out of the cave, keeping the sparkling close to his chest as it cried and squirmed in his arms. Bumblebee heard Ratchet curse as Jazz moved a servo to his helm.

"Somethin' else was with him," Jazz said into the commlink. "A sparkling."

Ratchet snapped, [How in the Pits did he hide that?!] Then he asked, [Is there anything wrong with the sparkling?]

"Other than losin' their carrier and most likely never knowing their sire? Other than probably bein' hungry, nothin' I can tell," Jazz answered.

"But aren't sires always with the carrier when the sparkling is born, no matter what?" Bumblebee asked.

[Before birth, it's possible to look at the sparkling's code to see who the sire is, so the only exception is if the sire is dead.] Ratchet stated.

"Guess we gotta check the little guy's coding," Jazz muttered as the sparkling cried again, snapping its helm to look at the shadows and squirming.

"What about Optimus?" Bumblebee asked, glancing towards the body.

"Sparkling comes first," Jazz said before lowering his servo and beginning to run back.

[If there's one thing we can do, it's making sure his sparkling doesn't die on us.] Ratchet added.

Bumblebee stared at the body, then softly muttered, "...Alright." He lowered his servo, stared for a moment more, then bolted after Jazz.

They never saw the pair of ghosts that watched them from the shadows.