#except ratchet has a nose

[fyther]

Learning how to draw cybertronions for no particular reason.

Open to some doodle requests because I 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 wanna draw more of these silly characters but I have no idea what XD (sfw only!)

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

What if in TFA holoforms were a thing and the Bots were able to use them?

What would the teams look like and how would they choose to use them?

-Optimus' holoform looks pretty similar to his human form from the episode Human Error. The difference is that his holoform has short, dark brown, curly hair that looks incredibly soft and freckles. His eyes are also brown and he's got those long eyelashes that models would kill for. His holoform wears pants similar to those belonging to firemen, complete with suspenders. He wears a simple, form fitting black t-shirt and big black boots.

As for what he would use it for, Optimus would use it to better help normal humans. Not everyone trusts or feel comfortable being handled by a cybertronian but someone that looks like a fellow human being? Yeah, it makes his work much easier.

-Ratchet's holoform got shoulder length white hair held back by a low ponytail and he's got a goatee. Like his human appearance in Human Error, he has a scar except this scar starts right above his eyebrow and disappears in his hairline. In holoform, he wears small, rectangular glasses, a red turtleneck, a white doctor's coat, beige khaki pants and brown leather shoes.

Similar to Optimus, Ratchet uses his holoform to better help humans. While he's not a human doctor, he still knows the basics and it's just easier to treat an injury when your fingers are not the size of your patient's limbs.

-Bumblebee's holoform looks to be about the same age as Sari after her upgrade. Other than that, he actually looks pretty much the same as his appearance in Human Error, thinking that his color scheme and general appearance is too iconic to change. He's got a lot of ear piercings though.

Bumblebee uses his holoform to goof off and have fun. There are some things he can't do in his true form, since everything on Earth was made for humans, but thanks to his holoform he can now access them. Things like theme parks and arcades.

-Bulkhead's holoform is 6'5 and built like a brick. But he's got the kindest eyes and a button nose. He's also got red, curly hair and freckles. His clothes consist of a green turtleneck with rolled up sleeves and brown suspender-pants, covered in paint stains.

Like Bumblebee, Bulkhead uses his holoform to have fun in ways that he couldn't as a bot, at least not without causing some major destruction on accident. But he also uses it to visit places and do stuff that he was always to nervous to do before, like visit museums and art galleries.

-Prowl's holoform is a tall and slim man with slicked back black hair. He's got a couple ear piercings and instead of his visor, he wears black pilot sunglasses instead. Prowl wears a fake leather jacket with gold detailing, a dark grey form fitting t-shirt underneath that in addition black jeans and combat boots.

As you might have expected, Prowl uses his holoform to better understand life on Earth and experience things in a way his true form does not allow. It allows him to gain a new perspective of things and better understand what it means to be a part of this planet.

[mammalsofaction]

Cupid, Cupid Shot Me 5 Times in the Heart

Rating: T

Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Hurt/Comfort, Divine Wrath, Divine Hubris, Roman Gods, Human Perry the Platypus, ASL, pining, idiot4idiot

A/N: Dedicated to @erizumon for being a sweet cheerleader, @adhdoofenshmirtz for the awesome prompt that I couldn't resist even if it took FOREVER, and @agentlizardofowca for putting up with me complaining about proofreading

---

Perry's at the point of his career–as the uncle of the Flynn-Fletcher twins, arch-nemesis of Dr Heinz Doofenshmirtz as well as the best agent Danville's OWCA had to offer–that he often thinks he's really seen everything.

Heinz, in this case, often and with joyful vindication, trumps the laws Quantum metaphysics nearly every day. Sometimes accidentally. His nemesis is the one who's taught him best the boundary between realities can often be as flimsy as a blue-print, and the difference between success and failure for even the most mad of ambitions may sometimes be luck, coffee and determination.

What he's trying to say, here: Perry keeps thinking Heinz can't really surprise him anymore, scheme wise. Today, he was proven wrong once again.

The trap snaps him up upon entry; Perry finds himself hanging by a tangle of ropes hanging from the ceiling. It pulls him into a pose that was a bit on the nose, considering the date. His left leg suspended and tied close to his back, leaving him partially horizontal, and forcibly arching his back, his arms stretched out into an archer's bow.

Cupid. Right. Valentine.

The first thing he notices was the behemoth of an inator; metal molded in hearts, chrome, scarlet and pink.

The second thing he notices is the raised platform in its heart, colored bone white and curved into a ribcage.

Say what you will about Heinz, but he would always stick to a theme.

"Always a pleasure to see you again, Agent P, " the man croons, stepping out of the shadows. His sneer is a poor facade over unrepentant, almost cruel glee. It made him look more evil than he truly was, and it ratchets his blood ever hotter. Perry chitters, but Heinz barely gives him a second glance.

"I'm sure you've been made aware of what day it is." Heinz drawls as he began to pace, shooting a scathing look past the bounds of his balcony. "Neither should you be surprised I've got a grudge or two to keep.

"You see, Perry the Platypus, as is the case for everything else, my love life has only ever been a neverending trail of heartbreak and misery. Middle school crushes, high school prom dates...I've even fallen out with the mother of my daughter, and we used to be pretty good friends in college! Nothing but a trail of failure and disappointment on both our halves...but mostly on mine.

"Recently, I have found myself fallen for this, ah, another candidate." Here, Perry notices another two things; one, the deliberate, albeit curious avoidant of pronouns, and on two, how the man pointedly avoiding his eye.

Both facts which contribute to a hopeful skip to his heart rate... completely inappropriate to his circumstances. This was not the time to be daydreaming.

(Nevermind that he had never had an indication of where Hein swung, in a sense, and how some implications were really opening things up for him.)

Heinz was still monologuing, naturally. "Which might even be a case more impossible than the last. I mean, we're ideologically opposed in most, if not all our moral grounds, and he's...God, he's too good for me, too much better looking. Way out of my league, it'll be like-like shooting for the moon, except I've already done that successfully multiple times, so-what's more impossible than the moon? Mars? Maybe a distant star of another solar system, maybe the Andromeda. I don't know, one of her fast moving moon systems. It doesn't matter. What I'm trying to say is," Heinz shakes his head, trying to focus. "It's impossible. He's impossible, I've got no chance, and I'm destined for another crash and burn not too far down the line, and being reminded of this stupid holiday makes it even worse, because I don't even know if he's-he's attracted to guys like that, or if he's even single! He could be out there on the arm of some...girlfriend or wife with three kids and I'd never know! Or maybe it would be more merciful if I didn't let myself know--but it doesn't matter," Heinz says vehemently, eyes closed and fists shaking like he's once again forcibly attempting to focus, while Perry wiggles in his trap with his heart in his throat thinking loudly that he had the kids, but not the wife, on account of being apparently and decisively gay and available, if that was at all relevant to certain interested parties.

Read the rest on Ao3

[pastelwoolfie]

i’m on one of my Bayverse Moments and i have. a REALLY shitty headcannon im going to implement now because im an agent of chaos and i desire anarchy.

so cybertronians. cybertronians, right? while it looks like they have noses, my headcanon is that despite having a nose/mouth, they don’t actually need to breathe. the flow of air in/out of their intakes is just needed to vocalise in most instances/gets used in like,, an eccentric way? like a bot will sigh for extra effect if that makes sense.

in that same vein, my headcanon is that cybertronians can’t smell. thats just. not a function they have (but smell and taste are linked!!1! idc. idc they’re alien robots these r MY rules lmao) cybertronians don’t have a sense of smell except for ratchet. ratchet can smell. in fact, he has a stupid good sense of smell. why? fuck if i know. he just does.

now. just. why on earth?? where does this come from?? like i mentioned - im on my Bayverse Shit. for… whatever reason… in the 1st movie ratchet has those really weird lines, *sniff* ‘the boys pheromone levels…’ y’know the one. i know ironhide has a funky line about being able to smell a decepticon, but being able to smell HUMAN PHEREMONES AND being able to find out what the fuck they mean??

ratchet has an unparalleled sense of smell. it sucked ass cause on cybertron everyone was like ‘what do you mean you have an entire extra sense’ and ratchet is the only one who knew the smell of war and energon and death and decay. then he gets to earth and is like ‘wow these plants smell’ and the other bots are all ‘we don’t know what that means but okay babe’ and the humans are like ‘hey that’s just the grass smell’ and ratchet, bamboozled, is all ‘YOU CAN SMELL THAT?? IM NOT ALONE??’ and queue. absolute chaos of ratchet talking about smells with humans.

idk man i thought it was silly and also another fun way to traumatise ratchet 😋

[christmascookiediary]

Famous people that people think are good looking but i dont:

1. Micheal jordan - nothing about him is attractive except his bank account

2. Brad pitt - he is quite average looking but he aged well so ig

3. Leonardo caprisun - i used to think him and leo da vinci were the same person, but anyways this one i truly dont get he has a weird face and kinda short

4. Nate jacobs - his eyes point downwards and just not it

5 Jennifer aniston - her face is flat either way a big chin but she kinda looked nice in that zoom call w brad

6. Angelina jolly - she isnt that pretty

7. A whole bunch of rappers like xxtentacation

8. Scralet johnason - absolutely not

9. Candice swanepeol - her body banging but her face got banged into a wall

10. Miranda kerr - very wide face and i dont like dimples but atleast the eye distance balances out her nose

11. A bunch of vs models like rosie hutchen she also got a big nose

12. Those russian doll models from the 2000s

13. Gisele bunchden - look like a a lion that got squashed between two elephants

14. Selena gomez - moomoo girl

15. Emma stone and a bunch of other mid female actors and emmas

16. Ryan gosling and reynold - mother nature, may you just please space people’s eyes correctly

17. Nina dobrev and all the other mid actresses with bug eyes like emma stone,

18. Most white passing people with brown eyes and brown hair

19. A whole bunch of models especially female because theyre so malnourished they lose female hormones

20. Tyra banks - crazy eyes, its not unique and fierce its just nutjob and freak

21. Those chicks that look like sandra bullock and gal gadot

22. Anyone with bug eyes, nasties

23. Jenny from blackpink

24 wongyoung - i dont like ‘puppy’ eyes because they just look low intelligence, whiny, and less attractive that upturned eyes

25 - douyin makeup - i hate you and the people that do it

26 a bunch of chinese celebrities, just looks like discount white people

27 those black or lightskin dudes that arent even attractive for their face but for their dreads

28 men who look like felons - mentally ill women, its not cute

29 anyone who gets told they look like brad pitt

30 - overly bulky dudes - just like women with a stupid bbl, you guys only attract ghetto weirdos

31 - austin butler - i dont think anyones actually calling him cute

32 people like shawn mendes, slightly above average with a massive money status halo

33 people who arent actually good looking but just grooms themselves alot, like shawn mendes

34 big booty latinas - highly overrated

35 people with annoying accents and voices

36 girls who are attracted to older men or men with masks or military uniforms - no, everyone knows youre a rank girl officer

37 basic people, mainly because for some reason youre all mean on average

38 people who have annoying mannerisms

39 people who are rude

40 people who let their anger out on others

41 anyone who i deem as a waste of oxygen

42 unkind people - youre ugliness is showing xx

43 ratchets who are always looking for a fight

44 people who think theyre gang but have no reason to be - go and move to the streets if you wanna be from the hood so badly

45 people from the hood in general

46. Basically just anyone who is think is not good looking and people who have rotten personalities no inner light

Dishonorable mentions : ann hathaway - she kinda cute, joghnny depp - not as cute as people say he is but he alr

People that i dislike - no explanation needed

People who i hate - at the bottom of the list where you should be in life

[transingthoseformers]

In the au sense, while on one hand it's a neat canonical divergence if he's always the wild child in the tfp au. But it's equally tempting and funny if you factor allllll if it in with how we see him act around others in canon. Like he's really good at hiding it, most of the others think he's just some big stoic guy who before the war had his nonexistent nose in books all day every day, But No! He was livin'la vida loco, and knows how to maintain professionalism with the autobots, these two things are not mutually exclusive. They'll never know except Ratchet maybe Ratchet knows but lets be real he purposefully kept the Orion arc explanation vague as hell even in canon. Fowler has... an idea, but it's all on vibes and observations alone. He asked Ratchet but Ratchet scoffed because holy shit Ratty does not need the human government knowing some of this stuff.

On the flipside, all of the Decepticons know how much of a disaster high command plus the medic is, they just don't mention it otherwise they'd risk being scrapped for future parts. Knockout and Breakdown keep tabs on the troops' drama mill, because they're like that step between the commanders and vehicons/eradicons. Another thing I've found funny as hell is keeping Starscream out of the loop. Why? It's hilarious to have him constantly getting bluescreen moments, and he knows better than to ask Soundwave or Megatron. He asks Knockout and Breakdown a couple times about what the fuck is up, but they just pull smug faces and say no because Starscream is an asshole to KO.

[karltface]

Boxy box box!

I forgot to get a box photo, but my out-of-state contact has initiated another exchange. Excitement!

I finally get to talk Exosquad! A race of genetically engineered workers, the Neosapiens, have rebelled on the space colonies, seizing territory and building an army outfitted by captured munitions factories. Our heroes have to contend with questionable orders and troubles back on Earth in addition to the war itself. It was damn good stuff.

Field Sgt Rita Torres, here, is second in command to JT Marsh, and a damn sight more intimidating. Picture Vasquez with Apone's sense of discipline. Now throw in... that hair and a nose ring. It was vaguely cyberpunk, you see.

The E-frames are halfway between a Battletech mech and the Power Loader, which stands out especially here, what with the yellow and the claw and whatnot. Fully enclosing the pilot on the show, the toys had to resort to exposed arms and thighs, which works fairly well except for the inane handles.

Articulation is vintage GI Joe-level minus the waist. The suits themselves (the humanoid ones, anyway) generally boast (slightly) hinged ankles, swivel/hinge hips (fairly limited by the arms and bulky torso), elbows with working pistons (around 45° of movement), and balljoint shoulders (still plenty good, and with fair range).

The figures attach via a clip at the waist, and a wire that plugs into a small neck implant, and constantly wants to mash the figure against the window. Just leave it unplugged. Lacking a truly free shoulder ball, they don't move with the arm handles, and restrict the motion even further. These are not "battle scene" toys.

Just for kicks, here's a few missiles scavenged from the parts bin. They look fine, they just need a bit of masking tape around the base to tighten up the fit. Rita herself is unarmed, but will mostly be posed with this thing anyway. Oddly, the teeny little computer chip thing that slots into the back of every mech (and is incredibly easy to lose) is present, but I'm not taking that out unless I learn to do molds.

Action features include 3 firing missiles, a ratchet joint in the claw, and a "laser sword" that looks, cocks, and fires like a jackhammer, and appears to have a string of rivets hanging off it. This reads more like it was planned for Maggie Weston, really. It just screams "vague construction vibes". Retrofitted with rockets.

Jump troops! These were the low-cost end of the line proper, a crack squad of Starship Troopers pastiches that deploy from low orbit and proceed to kick ass and take names.

Corporal Vince Pellegrino is the Fireboss of Charlie-5 squadron, and the grandson of the squad's founder. Fittingly, he carries a flamethrower. The wings fold down, but stick out a fair bit that way. One of his giant boots fires mines (missing here, along with a few other minor bits), the other stores them.

Second Lieutenant Colleen O'Reilly is the tech and communications guru. She doesn't like to kill, but is very good at disabling. Damn quick with her Recon Frame, too. I'm sure you noticed the duct tape. Previous owner had no skills. I can fix her.

And, yeah. Squad goals. Still got plenty of missiles handy, and possibly some mines too.

A stack of early 2000s Mega Bloks plates. It's not much on its own, but I intend to expand the Vorgan Stronghold, and this is essential stuff. I'll probably post it sometime.

And finally, the 2022 reissue of Retrax, a figure absolutely nobody was clamoring for, but hey, it's a hideously deformed isopod of superhuman size and strength. I was slightly worried when the blister was falling off on its own, with little sign of glue damage. After just 2 years? Wow.

The sharper eyes among you may have noticed the antennae are upside down. And set in a clear plastic clip. Do I dare? Also, the central legs are missing on both sides. Not sure how common that is, but damn, Hasbro. You good?

At least the action features are fun. The mandibles are spring loaded, as is the blade in back, and the whole body. It does the thing! Eee!

Robot mode is as feeble as I remember, but again, hideously deformed isopod of superhuman size and strength. The arms do unhook from the bug ends, but look better wielding them as weapons. Actually has a hell of a slap.

Well, I'm off to pack my answer. It involves very old Western figurines and mysterious books. Mysterious in that I haven't picked them out yet, but there's gold in them there bookshelves.

[attenutechsworld]

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[olivia200312]

Stressed~ TFP! Optimus x Human! Reader *Request* (Lemon)

Requested by the lovely AngelRosePhoenix and RubyWolf (Quotev)

Plot: Y/N has been pressuring a lot of her School Final project since its online class. And she doesn't know where to start and where to finish. She didn't even get a full-time rest or full-time eating. Until Optimus came to save his sweetspark.

One request was about the reader being stressed and the other (on Quotev) was about human lemon. I saw this again as a perfect opportunity to use both requests at the same time.

Head area: Brain: Processor / Brain Module Head: Helm Face: Face plate Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor Eye brow: Optical Ridge Eyes: Optics Mouth: Intake Lips: Dermas Teeth: Denta/Dentas Tongue: Glossa

Chest area: Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour: Chest plate Back plate Mid-section plating Neck guard Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus Forearms: Bitarlueus Hands: Servos Fingers: Digits

Arm armour: Gantlets Shoulder pads Arm guard

Lower area: Pelvis: Pelvis Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate Thighs: Tibulen Calves: Cadulen Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour: Skirt plates Aft plate / Skid plate Thigh guard Ankle guard

General/Internal components: Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question. Veins: Fual lines Stomach: Tanks Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating. Heart: Spark Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

Ah, we all are familiar with school projects. I hate them so much sometimes, except when like for example giving a presentation about your favorite celebrity. But most projects are so damn boring!

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

Y/N was done. She was absolutely done. She was in her room at the Autobots base. Surpingly, Agent Fowler build a bedroom at the base only for her since she couldn't afford to pay rent anymore at her poor conditioning apartment. The building where she once lived was in a very poor state. People, her once neighbors, were rude and also disgusting. Some of them were smokers, wild party animals also... addictions. Others were rude and heck very disrespectful! There even lived couples who fought all the time! Y/N was like the only one who was calm, collective, and kind. She was brave enough to go and confront her neighbors who were fragging assholes. Let's just say that it didn't end well. Luckily no beating or worse, only yelling. This caused Y/N to have sleep problems and sometimes with eating that she felt dizzy, weak, and tired. She went to the doctor to get the correct medication but sadly nothing worked.

The symptoms appeared more and more that the Autobots noticed, along with the kids. The kids for some reason found out what the cause was that they're planning to tell the Autobots. Ratchet was a medic, while June was a nurse and they're trained for years to notice symptoms of health when something was wrong. Ratchet would even scold Y/N!

Agent Fowler heard the drama going on about Y/N's neighborhood that he wanted to help her. She was 18 and in her final year of high school. She didn't plan to go to college. She didn't have dreams where a master's diploma was needed. A high school diploma was enough for her in her opinion. There were of course jobs around where actually a diploma wasn't needed or just asking for a high school diploma or higher. Y/N was assigned for a final project for school since summer break was coming closer. Of course, the damn teachers had to give a stressful assignment to the students! Jees, couldn't they give the students freedom?!

Y/N's job was to give a presentation of (choice). She had to do research, write, and practice her speech! That's basically what's so damn frustrating and stressful! She just finished like five hours later of writing important details. She looked at the clock that stood on her working desk and saw that it was 8 pm. "It's late already?!"

She couldn't believe that the time passed that fast! She sat on her desk like 5 hours ago! Man, when you're distracted or focused without realizing it, time goes by fast, especially if you're having fun times like at a party. But Y/N wasn't like that... a party person, or in other words, a party animal. She rather have quiet places. She felt so unlucky that she lived in a quite loud neighborhood. She felt so relieved and thankful that she escaped thanks to Agent Fowler.

"I... I..." She then screamed and grabbed her chair and threw it at her mirror. Holy slag, where did she get that power from?! I mean, she felt so stressed that it turned into a wave of serious anger that she couldn't take it anymore! The mirror obviously smashed and the glass laid in pieces on the floor.

Y/N whimpered and sobbed as she felt slowly her knees making contact with the carpeted floor. She was done. She wanted to rest, she wanted to relax! Y/N could feel how her muscles tightened as her breathing went out of her control. Just as she began to feel lightheaded, she felt gentle servos on her shoulders. This caused her to flinch. How on earth didn't she hear the footsteps entering her room? She shakenly looked up, blinking a few times before finally seeing who it was. It was her boyfriend or sparkmate, Optimus Prime. He was the leader of the Autobots, having a vehicle form of a semi-truck. You can easily recognize him that way. Not only that but also he was blue and red and his voice was deep that it will send shivers.

Optimus had a worried expression on his faceplate and you can clearly see it. He was one of those boyfriends you wished to have or that your boyfriend would be like Optimus. He was calm, gentle, kind, friendly, strong, and especially smart. That's the perfect way to describe him.

"O-Oppy?"

"What happened, sweetspark? I heard noises coming from your berthroom that I went to investigate," Optimus informed her in a worried tone, his servos still on her shoulders before helping her up to stand. He allowed her to press her body against his to be supported.

Y/N pressed her head against his chassis, badly wanting to relax. Optimus was patient as he allowed her to catch time before hearing. The human girl eventually explained the entire story, about the school project and etc. He understood her situation as the Cybertronians went to school as well and experienced stress about school projects. Ratchet went to medical school for example to become a medic, also kinda a mechanic at the same time. Does a paper diploma exist in Cybertron? Or a special datapad for it?

Optimus gently picked her up bridal style, causing Y/N to relax a bit. He took her to the bathroom that she had in her berthroom. He read that warm baths can make a stressed human relax. Cybertronians took a warm oil bath for that. He set her down on the toilet that was closed and started to prepare a warm bubble bath. The bathtub was large, I swear. Lucky you...

Y/N watched as she couldn't help but blush. She felt so spoiled and loved by him. She's so lucky to have him as her lover. She watched how Optimus walked up to her and she stood up. She felt that her clothes were being removed, one by one, until she was naked fully. She felt not insecure. They had actually sex before and Y/N could feel that it might happen... in a bathtub.

Optimus adored her body. It didn't matter if she was skinny, chubby, etc. We need to respect all bodies on Earth as everyone was beautiful, both outside and inside. But the sad reality was that there were also horrible people on Earth who like to bully just because some of the bodies can be different. Big people were the highest targets but it can also happen to skinny ones. This was not ok! Optimus didn't like how humans can be horrible just like Cybertronians like Megatron himself but he doesn't'' think that the warlord could be a bully... Or was he?

Y/N stepped inside the hot relaxing bathtub as she felt immediately in heaven. Everyone loved the feeling of hot water getting in contact with their skins after a long day from work or even school. Y/N finally felt her sore muscles finally lose since the warm water was doing its job.

The human girl got startled once she felt water dip again and it was Optimus who got inside the tub! That's when he gently and carefully moved her so that he could take a seat behind her. Once he sat comfortably behind her, he gently pulled his sparkmate on his lap. He felt his spark flutter once she giggled and relaxed against his frame.

Y/N read romance novels and there were some parts where couples took baths together. It could be as dates, honeymoons, or even... doing sexual activities. Optimus was somebot that loved to read datapads. It was in Cybertronians for 'books'. Optimus may or not had read about sexual activities in baths. It even helped with stress! Since his sparkmate had stress, he decided to... you know what.

Y/N had her eyes closed as she relaxed against his frame. His tank and chassis area. Boy, was she in for a surprise... Her E/C eyes shot open in shock and blushes brightly as she felt his hardened spike. What was he up to? Was he really going to have sex with her? "O-Opti- Ahhhhh!~" She was cut off when he lifted her up, his spike happily in the air and then *SLAM*. Y/N moaned loudly and arched her back from pleasure as he hit her insides, the right spot to send pleasure through her spine.

Optimus looked with a naughty expression but also with proudness since he was helping his sparkmate. He enjoyed her moans going through his audio receptors. He loved being inside of her, it was fleshy and wet, ready and begging to be taken.

"M-More!~"

Her wish got gladly granted. Optimus' servos were under her thighs that she was slowly lifted up and that when he thrusts up. This caused Y/N to whimper and moan. She was asking for more, she wanted more. She had her hands on his Optimus' legs/thighs to support herself since the Prime was holding her, giving her a stress reliever. His spike continued to thrust up inside of her, even kissing and biting her neck to leave lovebites. Y/N moaned as she began to scratch his paint due to the pleasure she was experiencing. She moaned every time as his spike thrusts inside of her but yelped and let out a scream in pleasure once her lover hit a certain spot inside of her. It was her g-spot!

"O-Optimus! Again!"

Optimus perked up and he immediately understood that it was her spot inside of her. He smirked behind her back as he began to his her spot even harder than before. Y/N moaned and screamed even louder than before. Oh, Primus, please don't wake everyone here in the base! Y/N was in pure bliss and even felt her stress being pushed away! Even though their private parts were underwater, Optimus' spike was getting covered with Y/N's juices that came from her pussy.

That's when Optimus felt Y/N's tight walls around his spike. He knew that she was cumming. But so was he. He already succeeded the mission. And that was to pleasure his sparkmate.

"O-Oppy, I'm cumming!" Y/N screamed as she felt the knot in her stomach.

"So do I, sweetspark," Optimus growled as he made finally final hard thrusts before settling inside of her to release his hot transfluid inside of her. Y/N whimpered and sighed in bliss as she felt his hot and sticky seed. Why did hot seeds feel so good? As Optimus sat still inside of her, Y/N turned her head over her shoulder and kissed his dermas. "Thank you, love. You really helped me."

Optimus smiled.

[just-antithings]

Just my thoughts and theories based on my experience in mob-like behavior, but one of the primary issues with antis is they actively encourage an escalatory pattern of behavior and reward it socially. No one is allowed to just calmly say, "Let's tone it down a notch. Okay, we don't want to see it. We have moral and ethical objections, but let's just tone it down."

To do so would be completely contrary to the constant sense of predatory urgency they put themselves in. Their circles are constantly in trauma-bond mode.

Everything in their lexicon is hostile, and they use the justification that it is reasonable to be hostile towards an attack, even preemptively.

Socially, they subsist on a reward system beyond exclusionary and right into the realm of offensive, not just in the sense of someone's sensibilities being what is offensive, but in the sense of harmfully offensive actions. Every notch one of them ratchets upwards is to be exceeded by the next.

If there is any effort to be eloquent at all, they make their arguments like Ben Shapiro. They are a herd of feral horses gish galloping all at once. They use words that have been programmed into the progressive mindset to alter thought, provoke consideration, and when suggested from a framing of speaking as or on behalf of a marginalized group, feeds on guilt to shut down discourse. They disguise their lack of critical thought behind these buzzed keywords, fully seeking to shock their audience into submission and whip up the masses.

They speak against whitewashing, but they also erase the existence within those communities. They lecture about what the features of a specific ethnicity should look like, while erasing that there is diversity. They go into great details to point out and explain that specific traits are inherently white, and leave no room that not only may that be native within the native culture, but many of these cultures are now mixed, and it is who these people are as well. They lecture ostensibly to advocate for characters and actors of colors, but ignore that many of these actors are, in fact, intermixed with what is traditionally

I am in the Star Wars The Clone Wars fandom. Every day, they erase me, my people's experience, and I am not the only one who has felt that way. But, by in large, we are too afraid to say something. Because these people have created an entire following built on this.

We are people who aren't one vision of what it means to be our people, so we are erased. The closest representations we have are the mutants and not the "regular," and have pernicious campaigns that advocate for their erasures... which essentially erases us.

Words like fetishization, sexualization, white-washing... all these words have no meaning out of these people, except to tighten their grip and hold on people. They get to weaponize their identities, and in turn, has erased the representation of others with such fervor that we are scared to speak up. They are established such a foothold with their campaigns that what good is it to try and speak up?

They feed off-white guilt and keep them trapped with anger and fear. Whether they themselves are BIPOC or not, they have not only established that their voices are more informed than well-meaning white people, but are the only ones that exist and we... are a non-entity. Never mind how many of them live in the US, Europe... and how many of us live in these formerly colonized lands, who live with the effects of colonization.

Colonization goes well beyond the color of someone's skin, the shape of their nose. It goes on how eugenics have tried to breed us out. How our women, especially what was seen as our attractive women, were set aside exclusively for the colonizers.

Our tribes and native Empires were broken apart, forced to conform to a European's standard of ethics and morals. Though these are a fictional representation, many of us have noticed that these attractive, brown men, are exclusively set aside for the availability for those outside of their tribe. They enforce their concepts of what is moral and immortal, without consideration that perhaps those within the tribe do not want to step outside their tribe.

Representative features of intermixed examples are deemed irredeemably whitewashed, too European, and they write very precise guides to tell artists how to erase examples that represent peoples who come from and live in native lands that were victimized by colonization.

The sins of colonization continue, and they show their privilege by knowing better than us. On one hand, they claim to be advocates. Some even share our ethnicities, yet they clearly show how well they have actually assimilated into the Imperial West with how they make us caricatures, how they silence us, how they know better than us.

They silence others. They take our voice. They erase our images. They control our decision-making.

Our existence doesn't matter to them because we are an inconvenient truth. Our truth doesn't uphold their power. It doesn't uplift the social capital they have built on.

They are no better than the Imperialist. Once again, we exist in shadows, in closed communities, afraid to be outed because we do not agree with the system of power they have created in our communities. They hold on tight with fear, anger, and a lot of pseudo-intellectual word wrangling and become token BIPOC making whites feel better because they listened to that iron voice. They benefit from white privilege because they make the dutifully obedient white feel good about themselves for being such a good listener, for becoming so informed, and once again... that Imperial privilege subjugates and silences others.

The non-BIPOC listen to their message, are afraid of not falling in line, afraid of listening to any other voices, and go to bed feeling better about themselves because they are doing what they are told. They spread the message, they become a hostile and hostile mob that enforces the message, and are so confident they know better when they know nothing.

Imperialism and colorism strikes again.

I started this out intending to be vague without any reference to any fandom or fan community. But, as my heart began to break all over again, my frustration flared up again, I had to come clean.

.

[silkling]

Here’s a short thing I wrote for @cirilee. It’s based on their Fantasy Shattered Glass Humanformers AU, from these posts here. (Post 1, Post 2, Post 3, Post 4). I wrote this in like, an hour, and I wanted to get it out cause I had several ideas for my other fics and this plot bunny kept sidetracking me. So, here it is!

(Also trigger warning here for dehumanization and violence. It isn’t very graphic but Smokey is not having a good time here.)

———————————————————————————————

Smokescreen woke up to a vicious headache and the scent of dirt and stale air filling his nose. He didn’t open his eyes yet, but one of his ears flicked as he tried to remember what had happened before he’d fallen asleep.

Except…had he fallen asleep? He remembered a battle, remembered being scared. It’d been so much more brutal than Papa and Pops had told him. He remembered Megatron calling a retreat, and he’d turned to follow, but then….

Pain, and then nothing.

He’d been knocked out before he could follow the others. The memory made his eyes fly open, and he jerked up, only to be pulled short. His wrists were cuffed together and attached by a short chain to the ground. He blinked, confused, but then a low chuckle made him snap his head up.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh Primus, please no.

Optimus Prime stood there, his gaze cold and hard as he stared down at the young dragonet. At his side, the Mad Doctor stood with his arms crossed, one front hoof pawing the ground impatiently. On the Prime’s other side, stood the two remaining Wreckers. And just behind them all, leaning against the wall, was the Prime’s son.

Smokescreen swallowed hard, looking up at the Prime and forcing himself to straighten. “What do you want?” he demanded.

“You have quite a bit of nerve, taking such a tone with me.” the Prime remarked cooly. “You have nerve to even speak in the first place.” He added with a faintly curled lip.

The dragonet blinked quickly. “What?” he demanded.

“Animals don’t don’t talk, beast.” Ratchet said coldly. He sounded simultaneously bored and annoyed, which would be pretty impressive if Smokescreen wasn’t terrified out of his mind right now.

“I’m not a beast!” Smokescreen snapped, offended despite himself.

“Oh?” There was a dangerous note in the Prime’s voice. “Aren’t you, though? No human has horns or wings.” he mused. “Or fangs or claws, or scales marring their skin.”

Smokescreen tensed, the scales that were scattered over his body like colorful freckles seeming to burn. “That’s stupid logic! Let me go, Prime!” He demanded.

The Prime snarled, then his hand was glowing and Smokescreen only caught if flash of purple magic before his world erupted into pain. He shook and collapsed, keening loudly, and came back to himself slowly.

Prime waited for him to look up again before speaking. “I would tell you to address me as Lord Prime, beast, but that would be pointless. You will not be speaking soon enough.” His voice was cold. “And you do not give the orders here. I do. And for my first one: shift. Change into your proper form. I will not have a beast wearing the disguise of a human, even if it is a poor disguise.” he sneered.

Smokescreen scoffed. “Go to the Pit.” he snapped.

He realized too late that was a mistake when the Prime activated his magic again, and Smokescreen’s world narrowed to the sharp agony that consumed him. His throat felt raw, and he realized distantly he was screaming as he spasmed on the ground. The pain didn’t end for several long minutes, and when it did he was left shaking.

“I will not ask again.”

Rather than face the Prime’s wrath a third time, Smokescreen swallowed and nodded. “Okay, okay. I-I will.” He looked down, remembering the cuffs. “But these-I can’t shift with them.”

“I don’t care. Shift, or I will make you.” Prime stated.

Smokescreen didn’t want to find out what that meant. With a bitten off whine, he shifted. Even as he did, he knew his forepaws would be in bad shape. He grew, and the cuffs strained, and eventually broke, but not before constricting his wrists enough to make the bones audibly crack. He whined, collapsing to a limp heap as soon as he was in his dragon shape.

Ratchet scoffed, then trotted over and roughly kicked his injured forepaws away from his body, then knelt to start looking them over. He started working to heal them, a process Smokescreen recognized from Papa, but the sharp pain that Ratchet didn’t seem to care to dull wasn’t something Knock Out would allow in his medbay.

As Ratchet worked, Prime strode forward to stare the young dragon in the eye. “You are a beast, little dragon. You are a poor one, right now. You think yourself too human, but I suppose I must blame Megatron for not teaching you your place properly.” He sighed, like it was a great tragedy that Smokescreen didn’t behave like an animal. “Worry not, though. My Doctor and my Wreckers will make a proper beast out of you yet.” He smiled coldly, crouching down. “And once you are properly broken and brought to heal, my son will be able to claim you for his own, and he will ride you into battle against the very ones who raised you.” He patted Smokescreen’s nose. “Look forward to that day, little beast. I know I do.” He stood, then turned and left the room that Smokescreen now realized was some sort of underground dungeon.

Ratchet finished working on his forepaws, then came up to stand up by nose. Smokescreen growled nervously, lifting his head and narrowing his eyes at the centaur. Unfortunately, Ratchet didn’t seem to like that, because he reared up, front hooves slamming harshly into Smokescreen’s nose, and when he reared back with a pained squeal the centaur pressed forward, still reared up, and slammed his hooves down to pin the dragonet’s snout to the ground.

“Lesson one, beast.” he snarled. “Never look your betters in the eye.” He stared him down, hooves increasing the pressure until Smokescreen averted his gaze.

The Mad Doctor stepped off after a moment, then looked back to the Wreckers. “You two go prepare what you need. I’ll get started on breaking this one in.” he said sharply.

Smokescreen watched the two humans nod, and felt a flare of panic. If he didn’t stop then, they’d come to hurt him too! He reacted before he was thinking, lunging up and trying to snap at the two men.

They reacted immediately, dodging in opposite directions, then turning each grabbing a horn to slam his head down. “Lesson two.” The bigger one spat. “Never attack your masters.”

The smaller Wrecker laughed. “Well, kid! You messed up here! We can’t let you get away with attacking us!” He looked over to the wall. “Bumblebee, grab the inverted spike collar and muzzle. You know, the ones that have spikes on the inside?”

The words made Smokescreen squeal in terror, and he tried to thrash, but then a kick to the ribs from Ratchet him him still. Bumblebee had left in his struggles, and returned a moment later with the items in hand.

The Wreckers hauled Smokescreen over to the wall, where a chain was hanging, and then Ratchet was snatching the items from Bumblebee and advancing. Before the dragonet could react, the muzzle was clamped on, followed by the collar, and the chain was attached to the collar. Only then did the Wreckers release him. He tried to pull free, but the spikes on the collar dug into his neck and with a yelp he pressed against the wall. His snout ached where the muzzle was clamped around in, spikes pressing hard even when he wasn’t straining against the device.

The bigger Wrecker sneered in disgust, then turned and left, Bumblebee following. The smaller Wrecker laughed as he headed backwards to the door. “Have fun, Sunshine!” he crowed, and then he was gone and the door was slamming shut.

Ratchet scoffed, shaking his head, then turned back to Smokescreen and smirked. “Oh, I intend to.” he said, tone dark.

He advanced, and the young dragon could only cower back against the wall and shake as he finally understood his new reality.

(Hours later, Ratchet left him alone and shaking, and Bumblebee came in with a bucket of…he presumed it was food, but it smelled terrible. The muzzle was removed, and the human left. Smokescreen was left alone in the cold cell, and the only thing he could do was curl up tightly and croon a soft song to try to soothe his fear.)

(He had no way of knowing that soon enough, even that much would be taken from him.)

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

[erimeows]

TFA Characters + Reader Playing 7 Minutes In Heaven (Autobot Edition)

You’re not really sure why you decided to come to this party- or, you were, as it was your birthday and the Autobots wanted to do something nice for you, but why had you agreed to play this game with them? Bumblebee seemed so excited when he mentioned it, and after you found out that he’d done a lot of research on human party games to make your birthday more enjoyable, you hadn’t had the heart to tell him no. Still... You really should’ve opted out, because now, you found yourself locked in a closet with...

Optimus: He’s just as confused as you’d expect him to be, not gonna lie. He didn’t help Bumblebee pick out the games like some of the others did, so one minute, he’s sitting on the ground in a circle spinning a bottle, and the next second, Bumblebee is shoving him into a closet with you. He hears them outside talking though; “is he finally going to make a move on them”, “I bet they’ll be making out when we open the door” etc, so he pieces it together pretty quick, and that combined with the fact that you’re literally inches from him makes him so ungodly nervous that he can’t bring himself to do anything but hug you and go “this is good, right?”. It’s just very soft and sweet, as you’d imagine it being with a bot like him. 

Ratchet: “God, I’m too old for this,” Ratchet complains as soon as you’re locked in the closet with him. He’d done the research about games with Bumblebee, but hadn’t possessed the energy to argue against this particular one. He’d never expected that out of everybot there, though, he’d get paired with the only human; you, who he’d been hiding feelings for... For an embarrassingly long amount of time. He doesn’t like sitting in the closet with you silently, so he just finds more and more reasons to complain to fill the void, only for you to cut him off with a kiss. 

Prowl: Prowl’s pretty neutral about the game but does very much want to kiss you tbh. He’s aware of the fact that most people make out in the closet, but he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or push your boundaries when he has to spend seven entire minutes with you, and he admires your friendship more than a kiss or two. However, if you initiate? He’s all over it; “how many kisses do you think we could fit into such a small timeframe? Let’s test it,” “I think we’re going to win this game,” etc. If you don’t initiate a kiss in the closet for whatever reason, he’ll still sit right next to you for the rest of the night and hope you offer to kiss him later.

Bumblebee: Researched games and nearly blew a circuit upon reading that there was a game where two people (or, a bot and a person, or two bots) could be locked in a closet together and were expected to make out. He decides to use the game and bribes Ratchet with not bothering him in his medbay for an entire vorn to (discreetly) use his magnetic ray from across the room to make the metal bottle land on you when Bee spins it. You two go into the closet together and, against his better judgement, Bumblebee immediately moves to hold your hands in his servos and pulls you in for a gentle kiss. 

Bulkhead: In Bulkhead’s scenario, Bumblebee plans the game to make you and Bulkhead finally have a moment. Everyone is in on the scheme, so when Bulkhead spins the bottle and it lands on you due to Blurr planting a magnet in your pocket without you realizing it, no one is surprised except for you and Bulkhead. The two of you have been pining for forever, everyone/everybot is sick of it, so you’re paired. A lot of the time is spent with the two of you talking and trying to play off how awkward the situation really is, but you end up gathering the courage to stand on your tip toes and give Bulkhead a peck on the cheek. 

Ultra Magnus: This goes very similarly to how it did in my TFA With A Touch/Affection Starved Human headcanons, since this is a similar scenario. Ultra Magnus doesn’t quite understand the objective of the game until you explain it to him, at which point, he’s all over you. That’s the objective, after all, isn’t it?

Jazz: Unlike all of the other mechs, where the situation is tense or awkward or goes way too fast, Jazz is pretty chill about things- like yeah, he likes you, but he’s logical enough to know that neither of you know exactly when the door is going to be opened and don’t want it to be opened on the two of you making out. Still, as soon as the door shuts, he finds his servos drifting to your hips and his chassis leaning forward so you’re crowded back against the wall. The two of you, wordlessly, exchange a few slow and sensual kisses, and then split up and have some casual conversation for the rest of the time until the door is opened. 

Sentinel Prime: Being locked in the closet with him is arguably the worst to start off with. Sentinel is a bitch about it despite agreeing to play the game, and gets angry at the concept of his partner being “an organic”, but once you two are actually in the closet, he shuts his trap and backs as far up against the nearest wall as he can with his arms crossed. Seconds later, though, he relaxes and reaches out for one of your hands, which he holds in his servo. You two stay like that for a moment before he decides he can’t take the tension/doesn’t care anymore, backs you up against the wall, and heatedly captures your lips with his. 

Blurr: Did enough of his research the day before upon hearing what the lineup of games was to know what he’s supposed to do upon being locked in the closet with you. Blurr is a gentlebot, though, so he has the decency to ask “is it okay if I kiss you? I believe that’s the point,”, and when you nod, he starts with a kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then on your cheeks, then your chin, and finally, he pulls back to look at you before going for a slow, sweet kiss on the mouth. 

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

Straasa Commission!

Hello, everyone!

One of your kind fellow fans commissioned me on KoFi for some juicy Straasa smut, and they would like this commission to be shared with all of you!

It features Straasa in a pretty dommy mood, and while the writing is pretty explicit, the MC can be of any gender!

The warnings include: bondage, blindfolds, overstimulation, edging, fingering, penetration, oral, multiple orgasms, biting

Have fun XD

Lulled into a cocoon of warmth, drunk on his voice, his touch, when he started gently pressing kisses against your head, leaning down to lightly nibble on your ears, you thought nothing of it. Just gave into the steady building of arousal he was driving you into, greedy for more of his touch, for more of his attention.

You’d like to say that you know how you ended up here, but it would be a lie. There you were, minding your own business and sitting in your favorite armchair with a book when your sweet lover came to join you. His voice was soft, his touch softer, blue eyes hooded and loving.

He lured you in innocently enough. His hands slowly massaging your shoulders, his deep voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ears—what are you reading, do you need me to get you anything, how has your day been, I’ve missed you so, my heart.

His clever fingers began to roam, caressing over your shoulders, trailing over your chest and teasing the edges of your nipples over the light tunic you were wearing. After pressing soft kisses all over your face—your nose, your closed eyelids, your cheekbones, your chin—his soft lips followed the path of his hands.

Down your neck they went, suckling gently on your skin to leave evidence of his love, his hot breath fanning over the nipples his fingers got pebbled, mouth closing around one momentarily to suck headily. He didn’t linger there, however. His hands slipped under the tunic, teasing and sensitizing you as he knelt before you, his mouth playing over the edge of your pants.

A steady stream of moans was forced from you as he played you like an instrument, heat pooling in your core, your breath coming in pants as his digits plucked at your nipples, mouth teasing with light bites over your clothed thighs, licking over your pubic bone but never straying lower.

In the end, you couldn’t take the teasing anymore and yanked down your pants yourself, his dark chuckle making you throb all the harder as you bared yourself to his hungry gaze and ever hungrier mouth. The cool air created such a contrast of sensations as Straasa’s hot lips descended upon you with ravenous intent.

This is how you find yourself writhing on the armchair, hands buried in his long locs, hips pushing up against his mouth, trying to get him as close to your burning core as possible, his long fingers plucking your nipples expertly. He makes hungry sounds as he feasts on you, the vibrations traveling through every nerve and setting your blood aflame as surely as his tongue does.

Higher and higher the pleasure ratchets, your muscles tightening, your fingers turning into claws on his scalp, until the heat spills over and you helplessly fall over the precipice, a wild climax rolling over you as you release into his mouth. He laps and sucks at you, prolonging the ecstasy until you’re whining from the overstimulation.

He pulls back with a self-satisfied smirk, lips glistening, blue eyes twin pools of black, his hunger not yet sated. He gets up from his knees and slithers up to you, his tall, fit form flexing with the movement and making a new wave of lust surge through you.

He buries his hand in your locks and seals his mouth over yours, letting you taste your own desire on his lips. “I’m not done with you yet, beloved,” he whispers against your skin as he trails his mouth over your jaw and up your ear, giving the tip a little nibble.

Then, without missing a beat, his strong arms wrap around your back and under your knees before he lifts you in the air in a bridal carry, his effortless strength stealing your breath away as he swiftly moves you towards the bedroom. Who knows what delights await you there?

You find out soon enough. Your lover deposits you on the bed ever-so-gently, his hands gliding over your sensitized body. He undressed you fully with reverent hands, his open palm trailing over the curve of your hip and moving to the back to massage one of your cheeks.

Then he flips you over abruptly, cause a gasp to burst from you at the sudden manhandling. He looms over your back, his hands moving to your wrists and slowly, inescapably bringing them to lay across the small of your back. His hot breath fans over your ear as he leans down to murmur to you, his grip on you a vice.

“I’m going to tie your hands behind your back, beloved. Then, I’m going to put a blindfold over your pretty eyes as I lay kisses all over your body. I will have you completely at my mercy, and you’re going to let me, won’t you? My most precious one. You’ll be good for me.”

A broken whimper leaves your lips as you arch your back, trying to rub yourself against him just to have that contact, to feel him against you. Your generous lover obliges, pushing you down with his bulk and letting you feel more of his weight, his hips grinding lightly against your backside, showing you how hard he is for you.

Holding your wrists captive with one hand, he allows you to writhe against him, rubbing yourself over his length as he reaches under the pillows and pulls out a long length of rope. Your mouth goes instantly dry as you realize that he has planned this out, and he meant to have you at his mercy from the get go, drugging you first with pleasure and soft attention to get you mellow and obedient.

All of it leading up to this. To your hands tied behind you, your sight taken away, and your lover running covetous fingers all over you, stoking the flames of your desire to a roaring inferno. Throughout it all, his sinful voice rumbles in your ear, as heady and tangible as a caress.

“Does this feel good, my heart?” he murmurs softly, his loving tone coming in stark contrast to the wicked movements of his hand, toying with you until you’re groaning with abandon, your flesh on fire, aching to feel him inside. He coos at your torture, a low rumble of satisfaction leaving him as you squirm wildly, trying to get his fingers inside you.

He pulls his hand away and focuses on kissing and licking your neck, your ears, his teeth and tongue leaving hot marks over your shoulders, your stomach, your thighs. His touch is everywhere except where you need him most. He tugs on your hair to make you arch your back, suckling headily all over your back.

It almost hurts to have him stroke every last inch of you, the feeling of his firm caresses overwhelming you with sensation. You want more but you don’t, it’s too much but not enough. Your lover flips you on your back, your hands trapped underneath you, your head thrashing as you try to dislodge the blindfold.

“Shhhh, shh, my sweetheart. You’re okay, there’s nothing to fear. I’m here, my beauty,” he soothes you lovingly, leaning down to press heated kisses all over your face, bringing his ear close to your mouth to check whether you need to say something to him.

“Okay?” he asks in a low murmur, and you manage a hum and a broken yes, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. Straasa chuckles darkly as he presses a kiss to the edge of your blindfold—then, he grabs one of your ankles in each hand and spreads your legs wide.

The strain of it plays at the edge of too much, but you feel a full body blush bloom over your skin at the embarrassment of being so exposed. Your man makes a hungry noise deep in his throat, however, and you can just imagine him biting his lip, his fingers on you tightening.

“I could just eat you up,” he growls, the need in his voice impossible to miss. “And you’d let me, wouldn’t you? My treasured one. So beautiful. All mine.” The heady words make your breath catch, a fresh wave of arousal overpowering you before Straasa leans down and claims your mouth roughly.

He positions your legs around his waist, and you keep them there as he devours you with lips and tongue, going deep, licking and sucking ravenously. His hands stroke over your flanks, down your hips and across your thighs before he finally—finally­—touches you where you need him most.

He plays with your body, his steely erection pressed tightly against your thigh as he prepares your body to take his fingers deep within, his tongue thrusting into your mouth just the way you like. His crafty digits slip inside you without any difficulty, your body more than ready to accept him.

He uses all his considerable experience to drive you absolutely crazy, the tips of his fingers pressing into that spot that makes you see stars with every stroke inward, spreading them out on the backstroke. Before long, you are sobbing with overwhelmed ecstasy, your body gearing up for yet another orgasm just from his fingering.

As your body starts clenching around his thrusting digits, he picks up the pace, rutting against your thigh, sucking your breath away as your back arches. You are pushed over the edge, contracting spasmodically on the fingers forcing the climax out of you.

On and on the orgasm goes, stronger, sharper than the last one. You wail and thrash against the bedding, and your lover grips you by the hair and pins you to the bed as he kisses you throughout, not allowing you even a moment of reprieve. Once the aftershocks set in, you slump into the bed, exhausted.

Yet Straasa doesn’t pull back, doesn’t pull out his fingers. He keeps working your spent body, slower than before but no less insistently. You whine desperately, the pleasure growing teeth as your body is pushed past its normal limits. Straasa rips his mouth from you, lips latching onto your ear as he pants and reaches down to free himself from his breeches.

Within moments, the silkiness of his hard member pushes against your thigh, oh-so-hot and demanding as he rubs himself over your skin, his cruel fingers once more picking up the pace inside you. He pulls back just enough to start suckling at your nipples, his free hand grabbing your throat.

Every time you try to pull away from his relentless fingers, the grip on your throat tightens, and the vibration of his growling rumbles all over the peaked nipple in his mouth. He shows no mercy as he catapults you to the edge of yet another orgasm, your whole body trembling wildly at the pleasure-pain.

The thought to tell him to stop doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re just about to fly over the precipice of what promises to be another mind-shattering orgasm, your hips thrusting in tandem with his fingers, trying to get him deeper in, more, more, more!

Your body tightens, eyes rolling in their sockets—and the stimulation is abruptly snatched away, leaving you hollow, and empty, and throbbing. You scream at the loss, your climax subverted but your body still on fire with the need to release. You babble his name again and again, a curse, a plea, and your pitiless lover chuckles.

Without a word, he pulls away from you entirely, the sudden loss of his weight, his warmth, distressing you even further. You thrash and snarl, trying to get yourself free, to find him, bite him, claim, make him finish this—! Two muscular arms wrap around your hips before you are unceremoniously hoisted towards him.

With the speed of a striking snake, your lover covers you with his body, his member slipping inside you in one long, hard thrust that sends euphoria zinging through every nerve, his teeth embedding themselves into the meat of your shoulder. You climax. You climax so hard you can’t breathe, all self-awareness fleeing as you become a vessel for pure bliss.

Bliss that doesn’t stop. Straasa cradles you so close it’s impossible to move, his hard body undulating against yours as he hammers into you, giving it to you hard and deep, holding nothing back. You are beyond overstimulated, but you can’t stop your hips from pushing back, coupling like wild animals, trying to all but fuse with one another.

Your mouths search for one another, and soon, you are making love in every way conceivable, his weight on top of you, his arms keeping you prisoner as he ushers you through a never-ending stream of releases, until your body has no more left to give.

Consciousness fades as your body shudders and flails through the last of your delicious torture, Straasa’s seed filling you deep within as your man moans his completion against your mouth. Everything is a blur after that. You float on a cloud of pure euphoria, weightless, existing beyond time and space.

You feel careful hands clean you up, a glass of water pressed to your lips, dried fruit pushed into your mouth. You drink and chew obediently, without thought, until you are once more taken in a tender embrace and Straasa strokes your back, pets your hair, presses soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lie on top of his chest.

You fall asleep to the knowledge you are safe, loved. Oh-so-very satisfied.

Welcome to the rest of your life.

[lpz-thegalaxystar]

Headcanons

1.the town of the pacombaxes is called LOMBAX TOWN , previously it was called orbity town (no pac worlder who doesn't live there doesn't know the meaning of the new name).

2. some, very few pacombaxes live in Pacopolis, because they have only lombax parts that can be covered (except their organs, if their organs are like those of a lombax they should stay in their village), e.g. lombax nose, lombax marks, lombax eyes and lombax fur ( urgently laser depilation).

3. the first pacombaxes are president spheros and his siblings but they don't know it.

4.the father of the 3 is actually Alister Azimuth, that's why Betrayus has white skin and red tips in his hair and Stratos has orange eyes (with reason, Betrayus only needed a friend like Kaden, [Ratchet's father and also Charling's grandfather], during his youth).

5.the sister of President Spheros and Lord Betrayus is named Gagdet (named after her grandmother [Alister's mother]).

6.Stratos' godmother adopted a baby lombax and she is currently a happy grandmother of  4 cub lombax 

7.Elliptica's father was adopted by a lombaxes couples when he was a child and he never told anyone in town about it.

8.Charling went to Pac World for the first time when the ghosts attacked Pacopolis as usual and Charling went there too.

9.Charling is neither a hero nor a villain, she is an anti-hero like Deadpool. 

10.The minerals of the netherworld are the same as those of Fastoon (native planet of the Lombaxes before they immigrated to other dimensions), an example is the Raritanium. ( it  is a rare and elusive mineral in the Ratchet & Clank series. It is a very strong and durable substance, used for armaments such as the Terraflux armor. It is also extremely valuable, traded by Ratchet and Clank with many characters for rare items,)

[mego42]

last line tag

tagged by @sanssssastark (💖)to share the last line i wrote and tag as many people as there are words in it except i’ve been mostly editing today before i move on to the next scene so please enjoy this snippet from the pilot-era strangers thingy that i’ve been messing with and then i’ll tag a random amount of people bc i can’t count this many words.

She can see it; the way he’s written her off, reduced her to a cliche. Some sad, lonely housewife past her prime, out on the town to prove to herself that a looming divorce isn’t the end of the world.

To hell with that. He doesn’t know her. He doesn’t know anything about her.

Beth feels that itch again, ratcheting up the volume of the static still crackling under her skin.

“Neither.” Her voice comes out louder than she meant it to, and she can feel that flush reignite when he turns back to her. His mouth’s slightly open, like she surprised him or interrupted his train of thought, the soft light reflecting off his lower lip. 

“Celebrating or drinking about it,” she explains, gesturing with her glass. “This isn’t about him. This is about me.” 

“Oh yeah?” His eyes sharpen, refocusing on her, and Beth feels refraction all the way down to her curling toes. “What’d you do? Smash your milestone for milfs against measles, or whatever charity fundraiser you runnin’ this month?”

Beth wrinkles her nose at the way he sneers it, cheeks heating at the milf comment, her mouth dropping open, then closing.

But then his lip twitches, and she sees the smug satisfaction that sparks in his eyes, like he knows her, like he’s got her, and it has her sitting up straighter and shaking her hair back. She can feel something inside her light up in response, some fierce, fiery part of her she’s only just discovered today and doesn’t know how to manage yet. That’s the only explanation she has for what she blurts out.

“I robbed a grocery store.” 

As soon as she says it, Beth’s mouth snaps shut. Her fingers curl around the edge of the bar, her nails digging into the varnish in an attempt to stop herself from clasping her hands over her mouth and trying to stuff the words back in because that’ll only make it worse. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

She can’t go around telling strangers she robbed a grocery store. 

His eyebrows shoot up. “That right?”

He doesn’t believe her, Beth can tell, and that’s—well, that’s good. What is she doing? This is how people get caught. 

God, what if that is how they got caught? Beth running her mouth because some hot guy in a bar wasn’t paying enough attention to her. She really is trying to give Annie a run for her money.

tagging: @pynkhues @hypermania (👀) @riosnecktattoo @peachraindrops @daydreamstew @querenaxx