#jazz

[class-jester]

Baby Prime part 4

It’s Prowl time :D

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[sehnis]

[ID: a clipping from a wikipedia entry titled "Plutonium Jazz". the subtitle says "From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. the entry reads:

"Plutonium Jazz was a unique genre of jazz music that gained popularity in the 1940s during the nuclear age. It featured bass players synchronizing their beats with the rhythmic clicks of a Geiger counter. The more accurately the beats matched the Geiger counter, the more excited the audience became.

However, the genre was short-lived due to health concerns. Musicians and club patrons began experiencing radiation poisoning, leading to the banning of Plutonium Jazz performances."

to the right of the text is a black and white photograph subtitled "Dancers at a Plutonium Jazz Club circa 1942. It shows four dancers wearing knee-long dresses and gas masks, holding their right legs up in the air in a synchronised manner.

underneath the text is an audio example titled "High at the uranium speak easy" and subtitled "Original recording by the Rodney Fusion Quartet. /end ID]

[transfrmrs]

Jazz: Whenever Prowl is mad at me, I go and tighten the lids of all the energon cubes, so he has to come to me for help (sound of blaster firing and glass shattering in the distance) Jazz: It hasn't worked yet, but it'll happen

[runawaymac]

minecraft damage sound

[nielsthecat]

[ID: A four panel comic of Jazz, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker from Transformers.

Panel one: Jazz and Sideswip stand next to each other. Jazz says, "I'm just saying, Sides, being a sparktwin sounds cool. Someone who grew up with you? Who knows you better than any other bot? You guys can talk to each other about anything." Panel two: Zoom on Sideswipe, who is making a face. Jazz says, "Um, Sides? I don't know what that face means."

Intermission text reads, "On recon..."

Panel three: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are in a Target parking lot in alt mode. Panel four: Sunstreaker says, "I'm the most fuckable car here." Sideswipe yells, "Sut uuup!!" End ID.]

When ppl with no siblings talk about siblings

[enigmatist17]

I am sick besties :( ergo a blorbo must suffer

This blorbo is part of the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon which one can find here

My parts so far 1 2 3

---

Prowl...did not panic. He was a mech equipped with the best battle computer known to Cybertronian kind, able to run probabilities and statistics faster than his emotions could register. Little surprised him, and up until recently, nothing had ever made his emotions supersede his battle computer.

Save for the scene before him, his servos trembling slightly as he holds the person who had captured his spark.

Jazz had not shown up for their morning refueling a few breems ago, and at first, Prowl had not minded, figuring Jazz was busy with something else. It's not until well into his duty shift that the concern starts, Ironhide popping into his office to ask after the organic, who had failed to show up for some sparring. His unanswered comms is what really makes his spark pulse with worry, various mechs clearing the halls as he heads to his (their) quarters, the door opening at his ping to show Jazz's mecha was still in its corner. Jazz is still in his berth, Wheeljack having created a smaller version that could be anchored just about anywhere on a magnetic surface if needed, the man groaning in discomfort. It's when Prowl gets closer that he registers the abnormal heat readings radiating off of the human, the ordinarily smooth intake and venting Jazz had stuttered and littered with the occasional cough as he struggled to get comfortable.

"Jazz?" Bleary brown optics flutter open at his name, Prowl's doorwings flaring up at the glassy look. "Jazz?"

"H...hey...hey Prowler..." Jazz's entire frame spasms when a loud series of coughs interrupts him, groaning softly when they finally stop. "Ow..."

"Your body heat has exceeded the temperature you told us was acceptable, is there any way I can help lower it?" A clawed digit gently rests against Jazz's cheek, and the human lets out a little whimper as he curls into the metal.

"Cold...feels good..." Prowl didn't dare to move as he sent Ratchet a worried comm, noting the sheen of sweat covering Jazz's face, his clothing damp from even more of it. Despite the heat reading not changing, Jazz pushed himself away from Prowl's servo a few minutes later, annoyance crossing his face as he burrowed under the thick fabric he called a comforter. "Too cold.."

"My body temperature has not changed, little shadow." Prowl softly trilled as he leaned closer, bleary eyes focusing on him after Jazz cycled his optics a few times.

"'S kay...fevers aren't fun..." Doorwings flutter at the familiar beat of Jazz reassuring him, despite clearly being exhausted with whatever was attacking his frame. "Could use water..."

"I shall get you some soon, I wish for Ratchet to look over you first." Jazz grumbled something as he moved to kick his blanket off. Prowl carefully logged the action, and Jazz weakly motioned him close. "Are you feeling warm again?"

"Mhm..can you hold me...so hot." Jazz whined as Prowl carefully slipped his digits underneath the warm human, cradling him carefully as Jazz went limp against his palm. "Mhm..."

"Rest, I will take good care of you." Prowl grabs the comforter with his free servo before going to hunt Ratchet down, surprising himself when he nearly snarled at a few Constructicons who got between him and the medical bay he sought. Jazz was cocooned within his comforter again when he was set down on a berth in front of the medic, Ratchet clearly at a bit of a loss but scanning the human anyways, if not for anyone but Prowl and his sanity.

"I don't know what you expect of me, but he clearly has some sort of errant programming running its course." Jazz had given Ratchet what he could about human health, but without being a medical professional (and royally fucked in ways he didn't feel like explaining to a bunch of alien mecha's), it was rudimentary at best.

"'S called the flu...can happen in space apparently.." Jazz mumbled from his little nest, hair matted and sticking up in all sorts of directions. "Just need rest...an' water.."

"That I can do something about." Ratchet left to go fetch some water from a small dispensary he kept for potential emergencies just like this, Jazz spilling some of it on himself in his desperation to drink the cool liquid. "Is there anything that might help within your mecha frame? Any sort of medication patch?"

"A wha?" The human seemed to struggle with the question, just staring at Ratchet before relaxing back against his blanket in exhaustion. "No...?"

"Do not worry sweetspark, we will do what we can to aid you." The medic had to fight a roll of his optics as Prowl carefully scooped Jazz back onto his servos, his tense stance from when he initially entered slightly relaxed as Jazz appeared not to be on death's berth.

"You're off-duty until he's recovered from this...flu, you'll need to keep him properly hydrated. I'll see if we can get his food synthesizer to make something easy on the tanks, he'll need it."

"Very well, thank you, Ratchet." Prowl left when Ratchet motioned for him to go with a grumble, Jazz finally in recharge once he had settled to be half-covered with his comforter, face pressed against his palm as he lightly snored. It had made his spark squeeze in distress to realize just how different he was from Jazz, unable to help his beloved from something that he had to battle within his own frame, far away from whatever medical aid his people could offer for such an illness. Prowl wanted nothing more than to drive this "flu" out and far away, but had to settle for cleaning up Jazz's berth one-servoed, cradling his sleeping partner in case he was needed.

He would be here until Jazz was back on his pedes with that bright grin of his, guardian to one that needed it most right now.

[bebebeep0v0]

🎸🎺

[pppppp60777]

Run out of idea. So here, Optimus and Jazz

[springtimeishere]

This song is literally his voice in my brain

[aelyxiae]

"Tears, Prowler?"

"You were dead, Jazz -- for a moment. I could feel it."

The Shockwave angst finally got to me 😭

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

Inspired by this post and this post on the concept of Shockwave taking control of Jazz while piloting Prowl.

Mecha AU by @keferon

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Sixteen - Explosive Consequences

Part Fifteen

———

Humans can withstand so much force, whether its g-force in which trained pilots can withstand 9g’s for a handful of seconds without passing out, or the potential six thousand pounds of compressive force that parts of the body can withstand.

Yet, they are organic in nature. They don’t particularly crush or break in the same manner as mechanicals.

There are dozens of ways to kill an organics, lack of force or excessive force. One in which can freeze the body, turning things that are liquid into solid, and other turning solid into liquid or hardly anything at all. It’s gruesome but true. Organics pop under excessive force and freeze under too little. Being in a properly pressurized space is hardly convenient but necessary. Such as a space shuttle, airplane, or mech suit.

—

All the gunfire was concussive, Breakdown’s shoulder cannon was super heated and made his cockpit unbearably hot, but they almost had the ship disabled. If Prowl’s predictions were correct, it would crash on the far side of base camp. Hound was to his right, kneeling now with the end of his converted long gun propped up and blasting off shots with ease, his gun fire joining two others in the field. With a bit of struggle, Breakdown grabs hold of a water pouch and drinks it down to the best of his ability, trying to keep the cannon from being disabled. The ship was on fire and descending fast.

Hound was still kneeling when it happened, at first, he thought that the ship had exploded or crashed but it was still taking fire from the others. He was disorientated and his ears were ringing, his gun crushed under the weight of the suit. For the moment his comms were out and static was filling his already ringing ears, so he turned on his external speakers, “Breakdown, you alright?” Hound turned and almost froze but instead got to his feet. Breakdown’s arm was a few yards away, along with what remained of the cannon and his shoulder components, it was leaking oil and coolant. It took Hound several long seconds and a strangled yell to remember that the suit wasn’t Breakdown’s actual body, that the suit was equipped with a equipment rejection feature, and that the suit wasn’t Breakdown’s body.

The inside of his cockpit was hot and his visual feed was exploding with error codes, Breakdown was hanging from his piloting apparatus and struggled to remove his helmet, “Damnit.” His head was pounding but he quickly got the front of the suit to open and let in cool air, it was a bit of a miracle that this would happen on a planet where they could breath the atmosphere. Hound was there, leaning over him, “Breakdown, you alive?” Very typical pilot, he struggled but flipped his external speakers back on, which screamed lightly for a second before turning on, “Yeah, mostly.” Hound sighed with relief and was quick to start spraying down the heated metal, bringing down the temperature of the suit so it would function again, “What happened?” “Cannon overheated, the repairs we did did not last. Melted in my last shot and my suit rejected the arm, very abruptly.” Struggling some, he pulled his helmet back on and went about the basic reboots for his suit, recalibrating it to register the lost appendiage.

Hound was shaking as he was able to bring the temperature of Breakdown’s suit back down, watching uneasily as Breakdown sealed himself back up in the cockpit, just as several others came running over. The chaos of the enemy ship now in the distance and the snipers nearby could no longer assist, “What happened?” Bluestreak was there first, staring with wide eyes as Hound helped Breakdown up, pulling his only arm across his shoulder, Mirage was right behind him though and stared, “How is he not unconscious?” Bluestreak almost opened his mouth but spared a look to Hound first before moving over to grab the lost arm, “We need to get him to Knockout.” Breakdown shook his head, “No, this will just worry the medic.” Both cybertronians stopped and stared like the mech had grown another head or sprouted winds, “Breakdown, I mean this with the utmost sincerity, but you are missing an arm. This is no longer a repair your team can handle.” Hound stopped and nodded, “Mirage is right, we have to ask Knockout for help.” Then he switched to comms, “At least to get the suit to stop leaking, once that’s handled we can get the arm properly reattached back in Iacon when you’ll have space to work, but I also can see it in your face Oleksknder, that concussion is going to have you on base duty.” Breakdown swore.

The ship crashed in the distance, shaking the ground and almost making all four of them lose balance.

—

It took them a while to get back to camp, Bluestreak was uncharacteristically quiet while carrying Breakdown’s severed arm and Mirage was speaking over comms to Prowl. Hound was walking with Breakdown and trying to keep the suit upright, they were talking quietly over a private comm channel, Hound mostly trying to keep Breakdown awake, “Once we get to camp and into the medical tent, I’ll say that I’m going to put you under for the maintenance and request Knockout leave for privacy. We’ll load you into my control bay, you can rest up on the cot.” He wasn’t sure if it was the best idea to remove Breakdown from his suit but it was better than him falling asleep without someone watching him, “I think it would still be the better move for me to just engage all my internal camera so that you and Jazz can monitor me from there,” Hound swears, “Damnit Breakdown, if you pass out or anything goes wrong,” he squeezed Hound’s shoulder, “Even if I was in your bay, there wouldn’t be anything you or the others could do. If my tech fails or my body does, then that’s it. We knew this when we signed up for this mission and I’m comfortable with my choice.” Hound fell silent, still holding Breakdown up as they limped into camp.

With the ship crashed, most of the others had moved in to attempt to handle the situation, only a few mechs were around and they all seemed to have minor injuries. Knockout was working on one with a nasty cut down part of his chest, “If you just came to the medical tent, it would go by a lot faster.” The mech shrugged a bit, “It’s fine.” He was clearly bored and glanced over, his jaw falling open, “Uh, I think you’ve got bigger things to worry about than my nanites doc.” Knockout, still grumbling, looks up then makes a strangled noise.

Bluestreak almost dropped Breakdown’s arm as the medic ran at them, “What happened?” Knockout gestured towards the medical tent, so Hound followed, “His cannon overheated, by design it’s supposed to disconnect but uh, it didn’t.” Breakdown chuckled slightly, leaning against Hound heavily, “It exploded and my programs thought my arm was the problem.” The look almost made both grown, military men, freeze, “Your programming? What kind of backward planet did you come from?” He was shrieking, then pulled out a medical bed and paused, “If I activate the field on this will that disturb your systems?” Hound glanced at it and nodded, “Yes.” He had to bite his tongue to not go into detail how it would crash the systems and potentially the reactor’s cooling system which would just be all bad. Bluestreak sets the arm down then glances over his shoulder, “I’m going to go help the others with Mirage, um, I’ll be back later to check on you Breakdown, okay?” Nodding a bit, Breakdown is eased into the deactivated slab, “Thanks.” Blue ran out of there as fast as he could, he looked ready to throw up. Hound shifted to stand slightly in front of the door as Knockout picked up the detached arm, “Are you in pain?” His voice was far softer than either of them expected from a medic. When compared to the medical team back on Earth who carried around very heavy tools for when they were annoyed.

Breakdown cleared his throat a bit and shook his head again, “Uh, no, sir. My head hurts but that’s all.” As if saying it reminded him, he activated his internal camera for Hound. He looked like shit, and Hound’s stomach turned over. Knockout stares, then looks down at the arm before looking to Breakdown again, “You’re bleeding and in shock.” He moved up to Breakdown and started to seal the few leaking lines at his shoulder, looking more and more horrified, even whispering, “What do you all run on?” Glancing up, Knockout glared at Hound, “If you’re just going to stand there, leave. If you want to be useful, get him a cover for the shock.” Hound blinked once then twice before he went over to a cabinet and pulled out what looked like an oversized tarp, there were several of these around Jazz’s apartment in Iacon. Supposedly Prowl’s door-wings got cold easily.

Snatching it from Hound, Knockout covered the parts of Breakdown he wasn’t working on, “Now get out.” Opening his mouth, Hound had every intention to protest before a chunk of Sharpel was thrown for his visor. Ducking quickly, he left, switching to the private comm, “Breakdown, keep me updated on this and keep your damn camera on.” In the corner of his visual feed, Breakdown chuckled and nodded some, switching to the private comm, “I have had my fair share of concussions, it will be alright.” Hound grit his teeth, “Once we ship back to Cybertron you’re going on rest. Our mission is too far from being over for you to be out for the rest of it.” Then he cut the line, it was reckless and stupid. Now a medic was working on their technology as if he were treating a patient and not fixing a suit. Sitting down heavily near the familiar heater, Hound put his head in his hands. Taking several deep breaths before the sounds of gunfire drew closer again. Sighing slowly, he looked up and walked over to one of the injured mechs, “Mind if I borrow your gun?” Since his was laying destroyed in the battle field of twenty minutes ago, the mech nodded and offered it, “It’s got a pit of a kick.” Hound took it and turned it on, it hummed deeply, “That’s fine. Better ours than theirs.” Before he ran towards where he could see familiar red and yellow cutting through a group of Quintessons, the gun coming up and firing as he ran.

—

Splattered with energon, Quintesson guts, and what he could only describe as muck, Hound’s suit was slow. Maybe it was more so he was exhausted and slow, but the layer of grime on the suit was not helping. Though to be fair all the frontliners looked like that right now, the ship was half sunk in the marsh behind them and far enough away from the energy farms they won't disturb the planet's production.

This feeling honestly reminded him of the last time he’d fought in the ocean, the sand clutching at the feet of his suit, slow and drained. Clearly the others felt very similarly as even Sunstreaker couldn’t be bothered with dragging himself to the wash racks, instead sitting down heavily in their usual spot. Sideswipe sat next to him, as close as he possibly could get before resting his elbows on his knees and face in his hands, “Ugh, if this was bad how are we going to take on their whole planet?” Hound bit his lip before sitting down, stretching his back the best he could, “Hopefully not on our own, maybe with help.” It wasn’t something to think about now.

Jazz sank to the ground, missing the seat entirely and leaning his head back against it, “Breakdown’s vitals seem to be normal, he’s resting now, took some Tylenol from his med-kit so it’ll probably need restock eventually.” Sideswipe looks up, “What happened with the old man?” Hound and Jazz shared a brief look before Hound signed, “His cannon overheated, his suit thought it was the arm malfunctioning,” “His arm came off?” Sunstreaker no longer seemed so tired, sitting up quickly, yelling through the comm causing the other three to wince, “Yes, but Knockout has it reattached, he’s just in medical getting some rest. Turned off most of his systems so he can rest in the dark.” Nodding slowly, Sunstreaker shoved off the ground, “Alright, well I’m going to rinse this crap off then check on him.” Everyone waved slightly and settled down, too tired to join him. Jazz and Hound kept an eye on Breakdown in the corner of their visual feeds, his cockpit dark and he was just visible on his makeshift cot.

All the others wanted to do was eat and try to get some sleep, Prowl had already agreed to monitor Breakdown through the night.

—

This time around, it was Hound who woke up in the middle of the night, jolting upright and coughing violently. He felt sick, hitting the lights for the cockpit. He tried to catch his breath, of course after what happened to Breakdown today he’d dream about that. Swearing, he got out of bed and started to pull on the assistance suit, there was no point in trying to go back to bed. Grabbing his water pouch, Hound poured some onto his hand and dragged it down his face before pulling on his helmet. Adjusting the visor just a bit. Taking several more breaths, it took all the power he had to climb into his piloting chair and turn his systems back on.

It was dark and it was cold, but the heater was turned on and softly glowing in front of him.

Turning up the brightness of his visor some, Hound took a second to take in the surroundings he was starting to familiarize himself with. Most of the mechs were hanging around their own heaters, talking and laughing together, most probably would need to sleep for another few hours. It took him a second to push off the ground and start towards command, not wanting to disturb the others' sleep. His footsteps were surprisingly quiet in the late hour, stepping over one of the benches before going towards command. Waving to those who waved and nodding at those who shouted, Cybertronian’s were fairly friendly and seemed to just get friendlier. There were only a few mechs in command, talking casually, one laughed.

Knocking lightly on the makeshift frame, Hound leaned around into the space, “I’m sorry to disturb,” “Hound, you’re not disturbing us. Come on in.” Mirage smiles, holding a cube that was much more vibrant than typical energon, something called high grade. Nodding a bit, Hound moves into the room and takes up the empty chair, “Thank you.” Megatron hums, sipping his own cube, “We’d off you a drink, but your systems don’t take energon?” It was phrased more as a question and Hound cleared his throat a bit, “Uh, yes, sir. It’s toxic according to our systems, uh, sorry. Thank you for the offer though.” He nodded a bit and sat back, Megatron returned the nod and went back to sipping his drink. Red Alert shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “Hound, I’m afraid I have a question for you that you might not like.” Hound waved a hand, “No Red, it’s fine. Go ahead.” The mech nodded for a second before shifting in his seat, “What happened between Sideswipe and Bluestreak? They don’t appear to be speaking to one another and several mecha stated seeing a fight last night.” Hound sighed, “They got into an altercation about Sunstreaker.” Mirage laughed, “See, I told you! You owe me ten shanix.” Hound opened his mouth when Red Alert nodded and handed over the credits, “A deal is a deal, I had just assumed it was for more than flirting.” Hound shut his mouth.

Megatron chuckled slightly, finishing off his drink, then pouring another cube for himself, “I doubt Hound wants to hear about your bets, besides, the mech is normally in recharge at this hour. What brought you to us?” Hound swore sometimes it was like the mech knew what he was thinking, clearing his throat again Hound shifted slightly, “The lighting to be perfectly honest. The heaters only provide so much light and it’s significantly easier to stay awake in a bright space.” It also kept the memories at bay, even if just for a little while, Megatron hummed deeply, “Then what awoke you?” Hound’s mouth went dry and he wished he hadn’t left the water pouch on his bed, worrying his lip for a moment he sighed, “Old memories from home.” He didn’t expect the response though.

Mirage nodded heavily, staring at the floor, Red Alert glanced up at the makeshift roof, smiling sadly, and Megatron downed the second drink, “Good memories or the bad?” “Can’t it be both?” Hound smiled painfully even though they could see it, somehow they all always knew, Mirage reached over and brushed a hand over his shoulder, “It can, it truly can.” Looking at him, Hound tilted his head though not in question, simply in response before looking down, “The bad is what woke me up, the good is why I needed to get away.” They were all understanding, humming softly and letting him sit in silence for a moment more, “Your people, they are very different from us.” Megatron’s voice was almost casual, but the typical edge was still there, “But you are also different from them, the so-called compatibility testing I hear so much about.” Hound chuckled lightly, nodding, “Yes, the test to see if you’re capable of fighting Quintessons.” That was certainly one way of phrasing it.

“Why did you get tested, if you don’t mind me asking? I understand you and Breakdown were military, the twins were facing the stockade and Jazz was, well he was Jazz.” Red Alert effectively snorted, covering his face, Hound glanced over but shrugged lightly, “The pay was good. I told you about the whole cost of living thing on Earth.” Megatron nodded, but shifted, his fingers flexing angrily, “Yes, I recall that conversation but was there a more specific reason?” Hound took a moment to think, sighing, “I was military and they needed us, it was my duty.” Megatron scowled, “I hate that word.” Chuckling lightly, Hound shook his head, “Why?” “Because in all of your cases, it was less of a moral obligation than a mandated one.” All Hound could do was shrug a bit, “It happens and I know you don’t like that, but it’s true.” Mirage almost sank in his seat, and Red Alert scooted his chair back some, “Did the others in your unit feel the same sense of this false duty?” Hound suppressed a wince, “Well, yeah, otherwise we wouldn’t be all the way out here. Would we?” That brought Megatron some pause and Mirage sighed a bit.

He was clearly thinking, even Hound could see it on the mech's face, “Do you truly intend to die for your planet?” Mirage had a rather abrupt reaction, choking and coughing on his drink and Red Alert stared widely, “Well, our lives aren’t as long as yours, so in a way yes. Either way, I’ll have died. If I can save the people I care about back home, then I’d do so happily.” Setting down his own glass now, Mirage leans forward, “What do you mean, aren’t as long as ours?” Hound sighed and sat back, “Well, I’ve been a pilot for just shy of ten years and that’s ten years of program updates, compatibility tests, and the war. It takes a toll.” His hand came up and brushed over the numbers on his chest, “There were 1,123 pilots before me. I think Jazz and a few others are the only ones still in commission.” The cybertronians were quiet and Hound shifts on the seat, “Just cause we’re designed to fight the Quintessons doesn’t mean we always survive the fight. Like Breakdown today, had his cannon exploded while it was still attached to him that would have been fatal.” He lets out a slow sigh, checking Breakdown’s feed for a moment before glancing back around the room.

They all were staring at him and he shifts uneasily, clearing his throat a bit, “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring down the mood.” Mirage took his hand quickly, “Don’t apologize, your planet is horrific and all humans deserve better.” Red Alert and Megatron nod, and Hound swears for a moment that they also swap shanix, “My planet, Earth, is not perfect, but we don’t expect it to be because we aren’t.” Slowly, he pulls his hand away from Mirage and sits back, “Tell me, how did your war with the Quintessons start?” The reaction was not one he expected, Megatron groaned, Red Alert perked up, and Mirage sank in his seat again, taking his glass. Megatron nodded lightly, “Forgive me, my conjunx tells the story better than I.” He clears his throat a bit, “This is our second or third war with the Quintessons, it started a vorn or so after the Decepticons and Autobots agreed to a peace treaty.” Hound sat forward, his foot shifting slightly to almost be touching Mirage’s as he tried to get comfortable in his piloting seat. Raptured with Megatron’s history lesson.

———

A/N

It had to happen, I have been wanting to get Megatron and Hound to talk for a minute.

So much more is coming down the line for this story for me, it’s been so fun.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU

[impregnatemen]

[jazzplusplus]

1977 - John Coltrane promotional poster - ABC Impulse! / Columbia Records (Japan)

[runawaymac]

what if ravage was Giant for some reason like titan-level BigTall and only gave jazz blaster and soundwave permission to sit on her paw/head

[transformersoneiq]

TFO Actor AU Episode 5

Bloopers!

It's the scene where D-16 is fighting Starscream. Starscream hates being in this position and tries to make it more bearable for himself. So he imagines B-127 is the one choking him. He didn't think he was into that scrap, but-

Starscream: Aah~!

D-16 promptly lets go and gives him a look.

Starscream is mortified that he just moaned on set.

D-16: Dude... what in the name of Primus-

Starscream: I- uh- I tried to- I just- augh!

Meanwhile, the rest of the cast was in hysterics. Starscream runs off to go cool off from the embarrassment.

---

Sentinel is talking to D-16 and Orion after the race. Sentinel starts laughing like he's supposed to. Then a cyber bug flies into his mouth and he coughs for a bit.

D-16: ...you good, dude?

Sentinel holds up a finger to tell them to wait a sec. Airachnid smacks him on the back to help him cough up the bug while D-16 and Orion try not to laugh.

---

Elita punches Shockwave in the optic a little too hard.

Shockwave ends up falling over with a loud 'FRAG!!'.

The rest of the crew laughs.

Shockwave: It's not fragging funny...

Shockwave sulks with crossed arms while the others just laugh harder.

---

Orion and D-16, as Optimus and Megatron, are standing face to face after the battle. Before Orion can say the next line, Megatronus whispers to himself a bit too loudly.

Megatronus: Imagine if they kissed instead...

Of course, D-16 and Orion couldn't keep it together and burst into laughter. Then Orion speaks after they calmed down.

Orion: I certainly wouldn't mind an extra excuse to kiss my fiance~

D-16: Neither would I~

The two stare at each other for a moment before Orion dips D-16 and kisses him. Starscream yells in the background.

Starscream: GET A ROOM!!

---

They're in the middle of filming the train scene when Ravage gets in and climbs on the camera. The cameraman, who is Jazz, tries shooing Ravage away, but Ravage hisses at him.

Jazz: Hey woah chill!! Chill!! Crazy... Soundwave, come get your cybercat!

Jazz backs up.

Meanwhile, Ravage climbs more onto the camera and sniffs it. He bends his head down to look into the lens. Meanwhile, Soundwave finally shows up.

Soundwave: Ravage, down boy-

Ravage ignores him the first time around and licks the lens.

Soundwave: Ravage!

Ravage looks at Soundwave, who grabs him. Ravage yowls and tries to cling to the camera, but is ultimately taken away by Soundwave.

---

It's the scene with Alpha Trion and Sentinel. Sentinel has his blade to Alpha Trion's neck.

Sentinel: You look... terrible.

Alpha Trion tries to stick to the script, but he can't help but crack the dumbest, corniest joke.

Alpha Trion: I may be old, but I can see just fine, thank you very much.

Sentinel takes a second to get the joke before he bursts into laughter.

Sentinel: Oh my Primus- You did not just- that's such a dad joke- that's so corny-

Meanwhile, Alpha Trion looks so proud of himself.