#ranger transformers

[maxicaiman]

TFA Beach Breakers

Finally made the designs for the Beach Breakers in TFA !!

[wishingstarinajar]

And that, kids, is how Starflare got his "Star Ranger" nickname.

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Homeward Bound (Part 3)

I was jolted awake by alternating slaps across my face, the sting burning against my skin.

“Yeah, f***er, when I say wake up, YOU WAKE UP.” The voice, thick with a Mancunian accent, was a growl that echoed in my skull.

I blinked, struggling to focus, but my limbs were immobile—tied with rope. All I could see from this angle were his heavy duty black boots. Another pair stepped forward, the toe brushing my cheek, and I recoiled instinctively. This pair was different: shiny black leather with thick soles and stark white laces. My gaze froze as I noticed the boot was covered in dirt..

“Fresh, just for you,” the Mancunian sneered, his tone both mocking and possessive. “Go on, clean it.” The room erupted in sniggers, a cacophony of cruel laughter.

I twisted, pulling against my restraints, but it was no use. A rough hand gripped the back of my neck, forcing my face closer to the boot. “No, you don’t,” he hissed. “You’re gonna learn respect, lad.”

“Lick.”

The word sliced through the air like a whip. I clamped my lips shut, defiant, but the price of resistance was swift. Pain exploded through my face as a fist connected with my nose, and I felt warm blood trickling over my lip. My breath hitched as I tasted copper.

The man leaned in, his breath heavy with smoke and menace. “Listen, pretty boy. We’re in charge. You do as we say, or you’ll wish you were dead.”

The boot hovered an inch from my mouth again, and I hesitated, panic warring with stubborn pride. The room’s silence became oppressive, the weight of their gazes daring me to refuse. Tentatively, my tongue flicked out, brushing the cold leather. The texture was rough, the taste bitter, with a faint salty tang that churned my stomach.

“Keep going,” he ordered, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Don’t stop until I say.”

From where I lay on the floor, I could sense Gav’s gaze drilling into me. “Better get used to the taste, posh boy,” he sneered. “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

The skinhead with the Mancunian accent leaned closer, his grin a sharp-edged weapon. “Congratulations,” he said mockingly. “You’ve been selected for transformation. We’re gonna remake you. You won’t like it while we’re at it, but when we’re done, you’ll be thanking us. Oh, and for now, you call me ‘Boss.’ The rest of the lads? ‘Sir.’ Understood?”

“Right, lads,” Mick cut in, his tone businesslike. “Let’s get him in the chair.”

My heart sank as my eyes locked onto the chair he was talking about. It sat hulking on the far side of the room, a monstrous hybrid of wood and metal, its surfaces stained with something dark and unsettling. Heavy leather straps dangled ominously from the armrests and legs.

“Wh-what do you want?” I croaked, forcing the words out through a throat that felt like sandpaper. My voice was faint, but it was enough to pause them for a fleeting moment.

Mick crouched in front of me, his icy gaze drilling into mine. “What we want,” he said slowly, savouring each word, “is to see if you’ve got what it takes.”

“What it takes for what?” Panic edged my voice sharper.

Mick smirked, a predator toying with its prey. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Laughter erupted from the group as they hauled me up, untied me, and dragged me toward the chair. Despite a desperate surge of resistance, my struggles were no match for the practiced efficiency of their hands. They strapped me in, the leather biting into my wrists and ankles, rendering me utterly helpless.

The youngest-looking skinhead hesitated, his doubt visible in the flicker of his eyes. “You sure he’s the right one?” he ventured timidly.

Boss rounded on him with a glare that could turn milk sour. “Course I’m sure. What’s the matter? Getting squeamish now?”

“No, it’s just…” The young one shuffled nervously. “He’s older than the others. Doesn’t seem like he’ll last long.”

“That’s the bloody point,” Boss snapped. “If he can’t handle it, he’s no use to us. Our Midlands friend has… let’s say very specific tastes.”

Cold dread coiled in my stomach as I tried to decipher their cryptic words. Handle what? Who was their friend? My mind raced, desperate for answers, while my eyes darted around the dimly lit room. It revealed nothing but an old sofa, a coffee table littered with cans of Special Brew, and a single bare lightbulb casting harsh shadows.

“This is where it starts,” Mick said, crouching down into my line of sight with a wicked grin. “You’re gonna become one of us. Whether you like it or not.”

My attempt to protest came out as a dry croak. Another skinhead—lanky, tattooed, and radiating malice—stepped forward with a buzzing set of clippers.

“First,” he sneered, “that office-worker haircut is going. Actually, your whole normal-bloke look is going.”

The clippers roared to life, and I felt the vibration against my scalp as clumps of hair tumbled to the floor. I squirmed against the restraints, but the straps held firm. The group cheered and jeered as my identity fell away in ragged tufts.

CLACK!

Just as I thought the humiliation might subside, Boss leaned in, his face mere inches from mine. His eyes locked onto mine with an unnerving intensity. “Mmm, looking better already,” he murmured, a smirk curling his lips. “But this? This is just the beginning.”

The youngest skinhead emerged from the shadows carrying a bowl of hot soapy water and a rag. My stomach churned at the sight. The rag looked filthy, its edges frayed and stained. He scrubbed at my face and neck with rough efficiency, his movements methodical under the approving stares of Mick, Gav, and Boss. When he was done, Mick handed him a can of shaving foam and a fresh razor.

“Now stay still,” Mick said, his voice mockingly sweet, “while I shave you smooth. Cue-ball smooth.” He dragged out the word ‘smooth’ with exaggerated glee, earning chuckles from the group.

I sat rigid as the razor scraped against my scalp. By the time he finished, the others descended on me, gleefully rubbing my freshly denuded head like it was some grotesque trophy.

Gav returned, carrying a large laundry bag. He tipped its contents onto the floor in front of me. Boss stepped forward, scissors in hand, and began cutting away at my clothes. Stripped down to my underwear in moments, I felt my last vestige of dignity vanish.

Gav unstrapped my wrists and ankles. “You can take those off yourself,” he said, gesturing to my remaining clothing. “Yeah, you’re going commando now, mate. Just like the rest of us. Now, get into yer new clobber.”

I hesitated, but a sharp slap to the back of my head reminded me resistance wasn’t an option. Under their watchful eyes, I reluctantly dressed in the outfit they’d laid out: cut-off jeans mottled with white patches, crusty off-white socks, and a black top that stretched over my newly shaved scalp.

Mick knelt in front of me to lace up the heavy black boots they’d forced onto my feet. The weight of them felt alien, grounding me in this surreal nightmare. When I stood, Mick stepped back to appraise me like an artist evaluating his work.

“Not bad,” he said with a nod. “But a look isn’t enough. You’ve got to think like us. Act like us. And that’s gonna take work.”

The group murmured in agreement, their faces alight with anticipation.

“What do you want from me?” I rasped, my voice barely audible.

Boss’ grin widened into something monstrous. “Oh, we’re gonna teach you everything, mate. From now on, you’re one of us. But first? We’ve got to break the old you down to nothing.”

His words hit me like a gut punch.

As the skinheads closed in, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent, I realised the person I’d been before stepping onto that train was slipping further away, piece by piece.

[killerrobot-killingmatch]

Bracket 4, Round B, Attack 1

Rio Propaganda

Soundwave Propaganda

[or-fi-s]

Wing-it for leisurerunner

Posted using PostyBirb

[galladegamer]

[askstrangeweird]

King of The Mech - (a dumb joke i put too much time and effort in lol, but I hope you all like/reblog it! Singles/process below the cut.)

(in case the reference wasn't clear lol. also yeah, i don't think MechaGodzilla's hand can hold a can so i just ripped his arm off to save time. life hack.)

(yes, i was gonna draw megasXLR but i felt like the megazord fit in better here... onto more working on the Glitch Hunters pilot in the background and sketching a certain demigod poll winner...)

[hi-there-buddies]

I always forget that there is a canon universe where cartoon characters are just actors (Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Chip n Dale) and now I can’t stop thinking about the transformers just being…actors. Like, we know the transformers are in the Chip n Dale universe.

So like, how would that work lmao

I’m just imagining Starscream putting on a voice and having to take a lozenge every day because it hurts his throat so much

[antiqueberry]

We need to kill Elon with hammers

[bioniclechicken]

Color wheel thing

[maxicaiman]

Ranger wip (bC this guy needs some love too,,,,)

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

Commissions Open

Hello everyone my commissions are open for those interested

$10 USD (PayPal only) for a character and a Pokémon(or second character/fakemon) with flat colors and no background. Or $6USD for a single character/pokemon/fakemon with flat colors and no back ground.

An additional $5 USD per character or Pokémon(fakemon) added.

(Image below as an example $10 at base +$5 (added pokemon) +$5(added pokemon equals $20)

shading, and a custom background can be added for additional $5 USD(example below)

(For example the above image $10 base + $5(added pokemon) + $5(added pokemon) + $5(background and shading) equals $25 USD)

(For example The above image $6 USD base + $5(shading, and background) =$11)

I’m also willing to draw non-pokemon images (examples below)

(Above image $6 base + $5(background and shading)=$11)

(Above image $10 base+$5(added characters)+ $5(added characters)+ $5(added characters)+ $5(added characters)+$5(shading and background)=$35)

(above image $10 base+$5(shading and background)=$15)

(above image $10base+$5(added characters)+$5(added characters)+ $5(added characters)+ $5(shading and background)=$30)

(Above image $10base+$5(added characters)+$5(added characters)+ $5(shading and background)=$25)

Dm if interested,or you have questions.

[morninkim]

The Great War is largely over, the majority of Autobots and Decepticons have come to a truce following the deaths of their leaders, Optimus Prime and Megatron. But tensions and errant groups still remain after centuries of civil war, and Autobot City may get caught in the crossfire as Earth's prime Cybertronian Outpost...

Meet Autobot City's main defense team in Transformers: Reconstruction!

Individual character profiles under the cut or under the tag "tf reconstruction"!

[quibbs126]

So I was going through on old Miitopia save file just now, and I see a pink haired lady named Elita in my created characters and I’m like “wait who the hell is that?”

Because I know for a fact that I made this save a few years ago, I think it was 2022; I’m not even sure if I knew Elita-1 existed back then. But even if I did, I probably wouldn’t have put her in the game

So I look and it turns out that apparently, Pokémon Ranger also happens to have a pink lady who’s a badass leader type named Elita

Genuinely unsure if the two things are related. They could be, I know Transformers has at least some foothold in Japan (or at least connections). But this game also came out nearly 20 years ago now, back when Elita didn’t have nearly the amount of presence she has in current day. And as far as I can tell, nobody else is really a Transformers reference, so it’d be very random

More likely it is just coincidence, but I just thought that was interesting

[daringdoombringer]

Virginia got a good batch of snow for the new year, couldn’t resist taking some toy photos before it melts! y’all know ice and snow is my thing❄️✨

my hands are freezing, worth it.