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tinydefector · 7 months ago

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I was just interested if you were a suckered for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope as I am. In the sense where fabrics and a abundance of organic flora was considered more common for higher class cybertronains but that even then it was pretty scarce. Imagine a bot or con after getting over their fears or mild disgust of the squishness of humans so to speak the next few things they notice is how many types of hair there are. How many styles and how many different ways to dye said hair. It drives them nuts the feel such softer fibers all together to make a more denser form. Curled,staight,wavy it all catches their optics. Painted nails almost similar to paint for their frames. Tattoos so intriguing. A human willingly damaging their surface that is more fragile than their metallic frames. It's a living scar. And they can't help but slowly come to love it to when they see how much their human complain does. But fabric? God they almost get drunk off of it. When they get a hug they shiver at the smooth article that brushes on their frame. The variety. So many styles and colors. So many meaning behind patterns and techniques. They can't help but almost grow jealous hearing how far back a simple stich can come from in human history. Humanity dressing itself in plush silks and flimsy polyester but it's all gold compared to what the cybertronains have come to crave. Imagine them having made themselves smaller so they could be inside your living space and they can't help but notice all the fabrics. All the plush surfaces. Their in heaven fully convinced they're going to meet the great primes. And if you had a scented burning candle? Sweet or citrus they can't help but want to inhale deeply to capture the scent. Perfumes? God their drunk whenever a human walks into a enclosed space because all mechs and femmes are fighting themselves to not snatch you up and keep you. If you use scented body wash or scented lotion then can practically taste it on your skin if you are near or hug them. They crave it when it's late at night and they've got you sobbing and thighs shaking as they kiss and lap at your scented thighs. And if theirs multiple humans in a space? That almost has a bot slurring their words as iff they just had the best energon. Just some thoughts haha I'm very sorry it's so long. I'm just a suckered for all these headcanons and just how while they may be disgusted and have hatred for humanity some fo them can't help but swoon for so many qualitys of their human companions that are nothing like their skin. So soft and complaint and so very warm at heart.

So I do have some fics on this stuff one is

Ratchet x reader. Involving perfumes effecting cybertronians like a sex potion or sex pollen.

Then I have

Starscream x reader. Involving the infamous dress and him testing out different outfits on his partner.

This small collection of bots reacting to nipple piercings (was like my first fic I ever wrote here)

_________________

I am quite a sucker for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope. I really enjoy writing cybertronians who adore seeing their partner drapped in shimmering fabrics. Becuase to the human its could just be a satin sheet, but to the cybertronian it is luxury, it showcases so much about you and every chance they get they love getting to just feel or touch the fabrics.

Imagine: your cybertronian is sat on theirs berth which is a mix of almost foam matting(yoga mat/ expanding foam) They don't lay on just metal but it's not particularly comfortable for their human. So one day, they introduced them to memory foam, and its like the bots world has opened up. It becomes a soft, comfortable recharge. But as you start bringing sheets, blankets, and your pillows, it makes the bots feel as if they are falling in love. They love it when you drape the soft fabric over them and make yourself almost a next on their chassis with the soft bedding. To they it feels like a luxury that you are pampering them even if it's just to make yourself more comfortable. It's the fact you leave them in their suite on their berth take makes their spark clench in delight knowing you'll be coming back.

I also tend to write cybertronains have alot more nasal sensors and detectors to the point they can break down the partials to annalise them. The smell of fresh lining is something that effects them almost like catnip with a cat. They will roll around in the fabric optics wide. Engines roaring in delight. As their joints squeak and clank against the walls.

I also love writing that Fabric was something that only the Highest of society had on cybertron, but mainly due to have small the fibers are it is extremely hard for cybertronains to replicate the material, so it fetched for high prices when Imported from organic planets. If you were of the lower classes, you would be lucky if you had a tarp or some sort of soft plastic as it was also still very sort after. So you can imagine how the cybertronains reacted once on earth, even while undercover. Fabric is such a huge part of human culture that cybertronians, when they find even just a pretty scrap of Fabric, keep it as a token. As if to say "frag you" to the universe.

But I can also see a human finding the stash of Fabric cut off's and offering to sew them all together in an almost patchwork like blanket for their bot and you can bet your ass you will have that cybertronian on thier knees worshipping you for it.

______

"Hey, we have hail forecasted," their voice calls out to the vehicle parked in the driveway. The cybertronian is rather quiet as they register what was said to them. "It isn't acid rain, so it won't be anything too bad." they try to argue only to have a large old blanket thrown over them. "Hey, what are you doing?" It sends shock throught their system having something so soft drapped over their frame.

"I'm covering you up so you don't get hail damage, I sadly can't get you into the garage at the moment so the next best thing I can do is cover you up with some blankets and a tarp so you don't get damaged by ice falling out of the sky" they explain as they throw another over the vehicle. Making sure to fully cover the bot before throwing a waterproof tarp over them, too. "Sorry, I don't have anything better than this, but it will keep you dry and our of harm's way." Those words hit their spark in a way they never would have thought it would. They are left almost speechless, cosy, and somewhat warm as the hailstorm rolls in.

________________

When it comes to hair colour, skin colour, and tattoos. It fascinates them so much to see such diversity and colour on a species they originally believed to be quite dull. It gets to the point when making their holoform avatars they love exploring and expressing themselves as if making a sims character. Even going as far as some get custom paint jobs of the tattoos, they get on their avatars because, for them, it's the closest thing they can have to tattoos. But think about you getting a tattoo in a shop right across from where your cybertronian partner is getting their paint job because it was a cute couples day out.

And don't get me started on how much cybertronians love human's hair. The fibers are so different to them and they love the feeling of it, they just have to be very careful when running a digit theought thier lovers hair as to not get it jammed in the joints causing you pain.

Another thing that cybertronians are fascinated by is humans' willingness to injure themselves in the name of beauty. From tattoos, piercings, injections, and surgery. In honesty, it's not that different from frame ulteration, but they don't know how a human can do it. The bots can turn their pain sensors off while humans are just soldier on through it.

I love the idea that the bots also horde car freshners that their humans get them. It becomes a full-on pokemon card situation of them trading double ups, begging their partner to get them others so they can rub it in their friends' faces. But air freshners weren't a thing until Earth, and the bots love how it makes their frame smell different from the oil, grease, and car smell.

But perfumes gods I love the idea that perfumes have a certain chemical reaction to Cybertronian systems to the point to turns them into a raging horny bot who can't get enough of how your skin taste and how desperately they try to literally lick the perfume off your skin as if it were the riches and most expensive high grade energex on the market. It also leads to a lot of personal working with the bots not being allowed to wear perfume/cologne. Deodorants don't affect them the same way, but they also enjoy how they smell quite a bit.

But yes I love the idea of perfumes pretty much working like a pheromone spray and don't get me started on actual pheromones spray, your not leaving that bots berth for atleast 3 days, they will bring you food, water and anything you want but it literally overrides their system protocol and makes them desperate to breed you.

In conclusion, DO NOT wear perfume or Pheromone spray near the bots unless you don't intend to be leaving the berth for at least 3 days if not more becyase they can and will keep you their.

________________

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milksockets · 1 year ago

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why scan?

scanning is something i've done for probably about 12 years now (i'm ancient, for this site), with varying degrees of regularity, intensity, etc. it has ratcheted up since the dawn of 2023, though, which begs the question: why? why put so much time into what could not-wrongly be considered a passive activity, hunched over a piece of clunky machinery with the express purpose of preserving others' creations? the answers are several, and fascinating (not really).

i am a [sober] drug addict. anything i pursue, consume, create--more often than not--ends up taking on addictive qualities. i'll eat the same specific food item for a month, then never want to see, let alone taste it, again. i'll listen to one song on repeat for days until i'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than have it shuffle on and assault my ears. one of the reasons that my scanning has increased in volume recently is that i acquired library cards to the 3 nyc library systems: nypl, brooklyn, and queens. as soon as i was able to, i pillaged + plundered those fine centers of learning, leaving any given library with as many hefty scan-worthy books as i could [barely] carry. here, finally, was a *free* way of obtaining more + more + more visual media to consume.

2023 saw me get my first legal, full-time job. as such, my adjusting to that hellish reality resulted in a steep decline in my own personal creative output. collaging, writing, and rapping all fell to the wayside as i slowly acclimated to a life of work that almost everyone else my age has known for over a decade is generally unbearable + detrimental to the maintenance of outside pursuits. in times of famine within my own artistic harvest, scanning, archiving, and sharing others' work is a means of feeling as though i am still contributing to the global oeuvre.

there’s an element of losing my mental self in a series of physical motions that becomes almost automatic after some time. “zoning out” is not something endemic to my daily life; if anything, i’m almost always too zoned in. relief is necessary. especially considering the shitshow this past year has been in terms of my personal life.

i am a product of capitalism’s cultivating a craving for constant consumption.

it seems that visual content is only going to continue to get more + more uninspired. has everything been done? did social media ruin it all? in any case, i feel a need to document the past. to a degree, it’s my version of doomsday prepping. (god forbid books go extinct altogether.)

i have always gravitated towards solitary activities. this topic could be a thesis in its own right.

i thrive on external validation. this reliance is something i’ve improved upon over the past several years, but it hasn’t been altogether extinguished. even though the materials i scan are not of my own creation, i nevertheless feel a vague pride in showcasing them. occasional appreciation thereof satisfies this fixation on others’ attention, albeit in a diluted form.

i am fortunate to live in a city bursting to the gills with cultural institutions. i am also lucky enough to have some disposable income that can be directed toward fulfilling my ravenous desire for visual media.

((i keep getting messages about the specifics of my scanner + "process":

i have a cheap ass hp envy 6055e and i just use the software it comes with.

there's nothing special or fancy happening here, and i could definitely invest in a better and/or a large format scanner, etc. but i really just don't care enough and it's not like i'm getting paid for this lmao))

#words #working girl #me

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houseofanticipation · 4 months ago

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The collar is a little too loose. It moves around too much, chafing. The restraints on your wrists are better, but the weight of your arms presses them into your skin uncomfortably. Your legs are unsecured, but your options there are limited. The last person to stop by left you at an awkward height: too high to sit, too low to stand. You're forced to hold an uncomfortable squat, or else choke yourself on the collar. Of course, it isn't supposed to be comfortable. If it was, it wouldn't be much of a punishment.

"Hey, nice!" a man in mesh gym shorts and a sweat-soaked tank top has just come around the partition that divides your repurposed shower stall from the rest of the locker room. His voice echoes as he calls out to someone. "Dude, come check it out!" He pulls a long, hard cock out of his shorts.

Your collar is locked to a ratchet mechanism, which in turn is mounted securely to the wall. Your wrists are strapped to a crossbar, keeping them at head height, wherever that is at any given time. The crossbar is a recent addition; you simply couldn't resist touching yourself when your arms were free. So last month He installed the crossbar, to help you avoid spoiling your own punishment.

The man shuffles up, feet on either side of you, finding his position. He taps his cock on your forehead, then turns the crank a few times. The ratchet begins to click, and the collar tightens around your throat as it's lifted several inches. You adjust your position, and open your mouth.

Another man rounds the corner as the first one begins to fuck your mouth. This one looks to be straight out of the shower; his hair is still wet, and the only thing he's wearing is a white towel around his waist. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you. "What am I looking at here?"

The man in the gym shorts isn't shy about using you. Some of them were, at first, but they've gotten comfortable with the situation now. They've learned to stop seeing you as a person who might care what they do to you. With each thrust his balls bounce off your chin. He presses deep down your throat, his hard abdominal muscles squashing your nose, and holds you there as he talks to his friend. "This is the...what does he call it..." his cock shifts in your throat as he cranes his neck to get a look at paper sign on the wall behind him. "Complimentary relief station." He laughs. "It's the manager's girlfriend. She's not always here, so you gotta make use of her when she is."

They guy in the towel seems unconvinced. "And she's...fine with this?"

"I wouldn't say she loves it," says Gym Shorts, starting to thrust again. "But she knows it's what she deserves."

He's right, in a way. Punishment days are grueling. You come away sore, exhausted, and filthy. You're also terrified of gagging, and it hasn't gone away with exposure like He said it would. You've just gotten better at turning off your gag reflex.

But he's also wrong. You do love it. You love it. The feeling of getting what's coming to you, of being made to suffer when you know suffering is what you've earned—it's electric, exhilarating, arousing. No doubt by this point in the day there's a small puddle underneath you, from where your wet cunt has been leaking since 9:00 AM this morning.

Gym Shorts groans and pulls out, throwing his head back as he shoots thick ropes of cum across your face. You shudder, and goosebumps rise on your arms. Your pussy drips.

"You're really gonna make a mess like that?" says Towel indignantly. "I'm not gonna use her if she's covered in your jizz, dude!"

Gym Shorts shrugs. "Sorry man, that's how he said to do it. Apparently she can't stand the feeling of cum on her skin." That is completely true. It's like nails on a chalkboard, or styrofoam scraping against itself. It sends s shiver down your spine, and it just gets worse as it sits there, getting cold, crusting over. "Spray her down if it bothers you that much. Or just use her pussy."

"What, that's an option?" says Towel.

"Sure man," says Gym Shorts, pointing to the hose showerhead on the wall. "It's still a shower."

"No, I mean her pussy. You were using her mouth when her pussy is open for business?"

Gym Shorts shrugs. "I like what I like."

"Alright, move over," says Towel, unwrapping his namesake and throwing it over his shoulder. "You've had your turn."

It takes a minute or so to get you upright; the ratchet is made for finer control, so he's cranking for a while before you're where he wants you. He reaches around and lifts your leg up, holding you under the thigh. The collar constricts around your throat as you lose balance on your one free leg; the pressure isn't enough to cut off your airways, but it's enough to make you moan involuntarily.

"Jesus Christ, dude, she's really wet," says Towel, running a finger between your pussy lips.

"Yeah, man," says Gym Shorts. "I've been telling you. She's a freak."

Towel fucks you like a hole in the wall. He fucks you like something cheap and disposable. When you moan with humiliation and pleasure, he turns to Gym Shorts and says, "Is there a way to shut her up?"

"You can just slap her a few times," says Gym Shorts. "She'll get the picture." Each strike is a stinging, burning reminder of your place.

You don't cum exactly. You never cum on punishment days; it would be inappropriate to feel that kind of pleasure. But for a few minutes before and after Towel finishes inside you, you enter a warm, floaty place where the pain and discomfort and shame all just melt away. You're exactly where you belong. You're becoming the purest form of yourself, your soul clean and clear and free of stains. This is what it's all about. This is bliss.

Towel is using your leg to wipe the last drops of cum off his cock when He enters. Your hang from the wall, your knees too weak to support you, your eyelids fluttering as you come down from that perfect place. When you see Him your chest swells, your eyes focus; cartoon hearts might as well be flying around your face.

"Hey guys, thanks for coming," He says as the two men go off to get changed. He cups your face in his hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, sir." You always get bashful around him after a punishment day. It's embarrassing and exciting, letting him see you like this.

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asks.

You nod, staring into his dark eyes.

"Do you think you got what you deserved?"

You think about it. You can't be flippant with these things; it's important to give a truthful answer. "I think I deserve a few more hours, sir."

That makes Him smile. His smile could light up a room. "Good girl. You make me so proud." He leans forward and gives you a little kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back for you when I close up."

As his echoing footsteps recede, a glob of cum spills out of your cunt and joins the puddle on the floor.

#cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #r@pe kink #r@pe fantasy #r@petoy #breeding toy #library 🜞

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crying-fantasies · 1 month ago

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Bathing

Masterlist

Featuring TFA! Optimus Prime, Smut/fluff/humor, CW: The reader wants the robot, kissing, indecent thoughts, use of lube/fluid, painful stretch, penetration, and mass displacement, mention of off comments about xenophobia (it's the Animated universe), Optimus is a prudent lover, get yourself someone that looks at you like Optimus does.

Cold cleansing fluid over an exhausted frame is always a pleasure, a way to wind out stress over his depleted circuits, a moment of peace or a good place hidden from the others to let out his frustration in more than one way, be it screaming or just standing there in complete silence, overthinking on his judgment and what he can do to better himself.

Cold fluid doesn't go well with you, what is a nice cold for him is a frostbite inducing juice for you, and you could get cooked by warm fluid, took a moment to finally adapt.

You’re nothing but adaptable, and Optimus has problems following your lead when your idea to use his washing room first appears, your patience is a prominent factor in the whole process.

“Is it okay for me to-?”

Your words would hardly keep at bay the need in them while holding his hips flush to yours, feeling the plush give of your skin, the warmth of your welcoming arms as they hold his back strut, still bigger than you, but in this size, it so much easier to left the drain closed, let it flood the closed compartment, you catch his interest with the way your fingers drag nails over his plating, sending tremors down his frame as you pull him down and your tiptoes do what they can to put you closer, Optimus has kissed you before, many times, and he still can't get enough, you're so brave but also so greedy, he is reminded of such when your tongue makes contact with his derma, making him vent hot steam and soon welcoming your intrusion, holding your hips over, letting himself be greedy, be passionate in other ways as his leg strut helps you to be near, your legs don't hold onto his hips as the fluid is already so helpful to let you float if only a bit, gives you free rein to show your greedy affection, one that shines bright for the both of you when he still struggles to let you know of his more openly outside a little tease that only earns him a kiss as a “you tried”.

Cybertronians are very closed of mind when it comes to a lot of things like tastes or preferences, but if you could condense it to a more basic point, it would be that Autobots can't show their very own selves, pressured under way too many rules, such scrutiny since the moment they get forged, you're no stranger or could oversee how they handle themselves or one another, while the first guys are way more open with how they are you get to learn that such factors of theirs are what got them in so much trouble in the first place when Sentinel and even the very one autobot leader arrived, well, they put down just what they thought of organics while also making some off comments about the bots under their rank.

Bumblebee is an exception to that, being his very own dorky self, and also being the first one to end up in a dead-end worker group, Bulkhead got out of his shell too, with time, being a variant since heavy worker frames shouldn't invest their time in fine arts, Prowl is never quiet about his love for organic life and Jazz seems to learn a thing or two about it if the way he greets you now if anything to go by, Ratchet is, as always, unapologetic in what he thinks, experience and life itself making him see what is import above species, ages or even beliefs.

Optimus was the harder to crack open, but almost dying not once but twice makes him see that, yeah, the autobot code isn't absolute for everything, and once he does doesn't take much for him to finally make a double take and, okay, maybe he does like you in some way that isn't becoming of an autobot, no matter how lower is the rank.

Still, not even the fact of almost dying two times makes it any easier to leave behind what he has always been taught since the time in the academy or the very same cycle he was forged, Optimus struggles with the bare minimum of open affection, hand holding is hard as it is since he is way bigger than you, he is holding his gaze down or shielding you with his frame when a poisonous gaze over you or whoever that is composed of meat and not metal, but Optimus is kind, he is sweet, he just struggles with tenderness between different species just as normally as anyone should, you also have problems with it as both are in the same boat.

Optimus is tenderness impersonated, but he is also the embodiment of awkwardness, especially when there is a moment you want to be intimate, trying to appear collected, the voice of reason, the first one to say “It won't fit” when he is still way taller than you while mass displaced, and yes, he is the one to push you away a bit even when his face can't be more flushed by energon as his servos press against you, but you let it go, because he has a point, it won't fit just like that.

Thus, is your explanation on why you had dragged him back to a bathing house in the next town, a place big enough for him to move around, once inside the underground parking lot, no prying optics to see in such an old place, Optimus is still amazed by the rudimentary environment, too familiar with Detroit and the futuristic lifestyle, it was shocking for him to see that not everyone has a robot maid or a talking Roomba, even more when he notices that the bathhouse is so old that they still used powder soap that he can trace in the walls, engraved by years of use and natural chemicals in an abstract gallery in the forgotten paint.

A glimpse into the old ways of humanity and Optimus looks at you with sincere appreciation, the place has been abandoned for years, but the water is still running, hot and natural, at first he is weirded out by your suggestion, being the voice of reason against your horny self that knew almost no boundaries since the moment your greedy hands got into private, confidential information when he didn't notice you walking into his berthroom.

“What about an infection?”

“What about your dick in my-?”, he never lets you finish, a servo soon over your mouth, but you bet it is more due to making him feel strained against his panels than real prudence if the colorful blue of his is anything to go by. He is sweet, the most kind you've ever dated, with his helm well placed over his shoulders to think first about your overall wellness over the pleasure, but that precious part of him is only adding fire to the growing hell fire in your pants because there is nothing more precious and hot than such a gentlemech that really likes you, what's more, letting yourself hope he loves you. If he does love you, then the minimum thing you could do is at least try to suck his intake until he is begging for mercy or grunting over your ear to the point of losing yourself only for him to take back together in his arms.

The answer, hidden in plain sight in front of you, comes when you take some time with him inside his berthroom, Optimus cycles his optics once, then twice when you seem to find bountiful heaven in his private washroom, eyes bright and mouth covered by your hands, almost like you were soon to fall to your knees by some kind of miracle, “anything important there?”. Optimus realizes, soon enough, that that shiny twinkle in your eyes is anything but a promise of your deviant wishes.

One request got an answer, a very heated one, and before he could say anything beyond the “Are you sure?” you were soon getting your underwear out, leg propped up against the wall.

Turns out, the desire humans could show was really beyond the understanding of a cybertronian, or Optimus was truly out of his element while you tried if the cleaning fluid would do any harm to you once he checked the chemical components twice, only heated it a tad bit more and you were ready to go.

Optimus has half the processor to repent for his lack of loving gestures toward you, is anything, he has hardly some time to do so much as your hand reaches around the seams of his modesty panel, letting go of his dermas to let him feel the drops of fluid falling to his face plate as you delve deeper into his frame, he embraces you in the right way, holding and finally showing his version of unbound passion as his derma kisses softly over your exposed neck, trying to see once again what he is keeping away from you, a hard squeeze down there has his denta barely scratching over your skin as he gives you the most reverent and hot gaze he has ever shot at your direction, “can you show me again, big guy?”

The washing room isn't the only thing flooding if the pinkish fluid streaming out of his panel is something to lead yourself, at first as a question, but of course, with an alien lover comes more than one interesting detail about his anatomy that you're eager to learn about, Optimus can hardly hold his mind together when you hold him for the first time, dragging the tip of his spike over your entrance, teasing, and he has to bite down a nasty comment, but he is sure a steaming “you're fragging hot” is way too bland for you, no matter as it seems as you laugh breathlessly, hardly reaching the button to stop the fluid from falling over you, it doesn't stop you, your fingers doing quick work to use it as extra moisture, all he can say, or do, is a sound between a wheeze and a laugh by the way you clamp down on him, there are no words above a function glitch when you keep down and down. Servos dragging over your exposed skin, he fears you could fall from his hold, your hands pushing at his shoulder armor, only to realize your wandering and lustful gaze when your bodies connect, he also follows your eyes, looking how he is almost all inside, your body almost freefalls again, his servos hold on your midsection, one soon flying to protect your head from any impact against the wall, must be fear, must be the way he reached inside in a different angle, almost sure he poked a bone or something else, so little, so sweet, you drag him in, kissing him senseless as he seems to have done a right move if the lovely sound you drown on his dermas and the squeeze that almost makes him bluescreen.

“See that?”, your hips move, undulating, the fluids drenching you from head to toe, drops falling slowly over your curves, over that little rise of your skin where he is sure the tip of his spike is teasing against your flesh, “it did fit”.

Optimus with a gremlin-like partner is something I love dearly, not sure who asked for the prompt with TFA Optimus but it was a delight, dear.

@tf-kinktober2024

#transformers #reader insert #x reader #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers x human reader #tf optimus prime #tfa optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime transformers #tf kinktober 2024

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bots-and-cons · 2 months ago

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Could you do a reader who has low iron? Platonic pls(characters are up to you) thank you for reading this your blog gives me life

A/N: Thank you, I’m so happy to hear you like my blog. I picked our two medics since this is a medical thing

~Ratchet~

•He’s noticed you’ve been growing more and more pale as the weeks go by, he isn’t even really sure how that’s possible, because you already looked very pale to begin with

•Ratchet is of course worried by this development, and he asks you about it

•You’re like “Nah, I’ve just got low iron”

•Ratchet is a bit confused at first, because to his knowledge, humans are not made of any sort of metal

•You have to explain the whole “iron deficiency” thing to him, and he at least mostly gets what you’re talking about

•He of course starts reading up on the subject, since he wants to make sure he knows if anything alarming starts to occur

•You can get quite lightheaded sometimes, which can be a bit dangerous if you’re sitting on Ratchet’s shoulder, because you might fall from getting too dizzy

•Which is why Ratchet doesn’t really like letting you sit there, because he knows his reflexes aren’t what they used to be

•You try to assure him that it’s okay and that you’ll tell him if you’re feeling too lightheaded and feel like you might fall

•He agrees to let you sit on his shoulder, but only if you let him scan your vitals and whatnot first so he can be sure you’re feeling well

~Knockout~

•Knockout pays a lot of attention to how others look, so when you start looking more pale than usual, he notices pretty quickly

•He asks why that is and you tell him about your iron deficiency problem

•Knockout is pretty ignorant to how humans work, so he doesn’t really get it and asks why you don’t just eat some iron then? “Something like nails should do, right?”

•This makes you basically roar with laughter, because all you can think about is him trying to offer you some iron nails

•When you calm down, you explain to him that no, you can’t just eat something made of iron, and that eating nails would probably kill you

•You tell him you need iron supplements and that you recently ran out and haven’t been able to buy more yet, hence the paleness

•Knockout is, yet again, a bit weirded out by how human bodies work and asks you if there’s anything he can do

•You tell him not to worry about it, but if he could let you sit on his shoulder for a while, that would be nice, because compared to a human he’s much warmer

•Your hands and feet are constantly cold, so if you kick your shoes of and sit on his shoulder with your hands and feet touching him, it feels nice since he’s so warm

•He doesn’t mind, so he lets you warm yourself up as much as you want to

•Knockout asks if this iron deficiency problem has any other effects than cold extremities and paleness

•You give him quite a lengthy list of what it can cause and he wonders how you humans even function sometimes

•Isn’t it a pain to have to make sure you get all the vitamins and minerals and all that? He only needs energon and that’s that, so easy, but you need like a hundred different things just to survive

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #autobots #decepticons #ratchet #knockout #tfp headcanons #reader insert #platonic transformers x reader

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whirlybirbs · 10 days ago

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It’s been so long since our hyperfixations overlapped >:)))

Ok after the last lil bit you did I’m just kinda imagining him watching Moth interact with Johnny and being jealous of both of them (cause Johnny is HIS friend back off Moth but also bc Johnny made Moth smile so brightly, how?? Please tell him how???) pretty please with cherries on top ♥️🍒

2. handler's manual — ghost / reader

desc: moth & johnny spar. ghost is in a bad mood. moth's theories grow. pairing: lt. simon "ghost" riley / f!reader ; callsign: moth a/n: honestly moth & johnny sharing their spotify wrapped is like air to me — you just know soap's was, like, Nu Divorced Dad Strut Rock or something. also, ghost works out in complete total silence like the apex predator he is, you cannot change my mind on this. ⇽ prev / next ⇾

"Woah, easy up, Pilates Princess—"

You punch the pad a little harder for that — but the smirk on your face tells Johnny know you're not really mad. If you were, you woulda gone for his nuts.

"I told you that in confidence," you pant, landing a well timed pattern of strikes in a loop of three, "And you're using it against me?"

"It's yer Spotify Wrapped," Johnny chirps back, lowering himself in a sturdier stance as you strike — left, left, right, left. Left, left, right, left, "An' tha' makes it yer problem, lass."

"Don't you lass me—"

You nail an easy transition into a different flow — right, left, right, left, left, right.

"Pure dead brilliant, Moth!" Johnny grins as your gloves connect with the pads in rhythm. He's quick to drop them, smack your arm, and throw an arm around your shoulder, "Pilates Princess is gettin' good, ae?"

You snort, shoving the sweaty Scotsman off of you with a smile; Johnny's a good man. A bit of a bastard, but patient enough to agree to spar with you on an off-day. "Shut up—"

Across the gym, the heavy pummel of a punching bag ratchets up and the blaring ring of the chain is loud enough to make you flinch. You wet your lips, turn your head towards the sound, and Johnny immediately whistles at the sight of a certain Lieutenant raining holy fire on the bag in the corner.

Heavy hoodie, heavy sweats, beat-to-shit trainers. He's dripping sweat, that much is clear from the darkened stains along the back of the SAS 22ND REG P.T. gear. It's Lieutenant Riley. And he's not stopping.

Because, aye, come th' fuck on. You're makin' 'im feel fuckin' mental. Since when are you an' Johnny friendly enough t' chinwag to th' moon and back, huh? John MacTavish is his only fuckin' friend. An' 'ere you come, all sunshine an' daisies —

Th' fuck is even a Spotify Wrapped anyway...?

You pop your hands on your waist as you try to catch your breath.

Must be a bad day for the Lieutenant. What's on the menu for lunch? You wonder what sort of phase the moon is in and if Phillip Graves is even on base. Additional factors could include: lack of caffeine (his usual shaker bottle is absent?), mismatched socks (indicative of missed laundry day?), balaclava preference (this one he rarely wears — uncomfortable?).

You slide Johnny a look.

Johnny slides it right back.

Then:

"Don't look a' me like tha', m' not fuckin' talkin' t' 'im."

#handler's manual #ghost x moth #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #mw2 #simon ghost riley

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someonehugratchet · 2 months ago

Text

Things I would say to TFP characters that would probably confuse them:

Optimus:

• big dumb blue bitch

• how were you a librarian yet you can’t get people to be quiet

• pulling all the hoes with that autism rizz, hey big guy?

• single dad

• Have you ever been fragged from both ends at once?

• pookie smookie bear

• magnificent blue bitch

• you’re shaped like a friend

• Is your spark secretly a cat?

Ratchet:

• Nurse Ratched

• Cuckoo

• Can you step on me but like not kill me?

• actually you can kill me

• I’m going to bite you on the face

• handsome

• Transformers can get pregnant right? Would you like me to try get you-

• Big Boy

• Pretty Boy

• I want to show you Hacksaw Ridge but I think you’ll cry and I Optimus would get mad at me

• toots

• heya sugar tits

• what would you do if I swallowed a coin

• what would you do if I throw up blood a week ago and didn’t tell anyone

Arcee:

• Sis

• Shadowheart wannabe

• “Hello Darkness My Old Friend~”

• Sonic The Hedgehog

• baddy with an addy

• I wanna chew on your legs is that weird

• girly pops

• girl you should get your nails did

Bulkhead:

• You have a squishy kind of vibe about you

• bubba

• bulky boy

• you are a sweet potato and I will not elaborate

• mean green mother from out of space!

• just a little guy

• a sweet baby

• I’m adopting you as my brother sorry about it

Wheeljack:

• slut

• sorry

• pleasure bot

• ARE YOU ITALIAN OR SPANISH I DONT KNOW?

• is being in a jet like being inside another bot to you or…?

• did you bite as a sparkling?

• have you heard of One Direction?

• they totally did break up

• …

• like the wreckers-

• pookie

• Lone Ranger behaviour

Bee:

• MY SON

• a wittle baby

• with knives

• Scout’s Honour!

• your puppy dog eyes could save the war I’m so serious right now

• bumble baby

• honey bee

• honey pie

• cutie pie

• I would commit so many war crimes for you

• starch that I will like right now don’t even test me

Smoke Screen:

• swiper no swiping

• twin~ where have you been~?

• have you considered war crimes?

• sparkly boy

• stoner screen

• vape screen

• Vapor screen

• shiny baby

• I have… another child?

• problem child

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

Text

I'm ovulating. We aren't going to talk about it.

Nikto is needy before you go to a fancy dress party with your friends.

18+, MDNI CW: handjob, allusions to reciprocated sexual acts, female reader

Nikto looked you over from his place in the chair. He had a small one settled into the bathroom to watch you dress and do your makeup. Soft music plays from the speaker of your phone. You don’t look at him as you add the final touches to your look.

The only thing you are wearing right now is a silk dressing gown he had brought home from a job in the east. His manhood twitches at the thought of slipping it from your shoulders and showering your flesh in tiny bites that would darken throughout the night to mark his claim on you. He wouldn’t. You disliked being covered in saliva before leaving the house. Complained about it last time.

“You’re brooding love,” you finish the sentence with lips parting in a way that has him wanting to put them to use. You apply your lipstick, coating each lip thoroughly.

“We are not brooding,” he growls at you.

The disbelieving smile and eye contact are made in the mirror. His nails itch to bite into your flesh.

“Mmm. Whatever you say.”

With a swish of your dressing gown, you turn and float from the bathroom and into the shared bedroom to change into your pretty dress for the night. You were going out with friends to what you called a ball. Nikto called it a migraine waiting to happen; he would not be going.

Stalking after you he took in the contrast of your naked breasts and the cotton panties he had ripped off you at least ten times since you brought that pair home. Stepping into your dress you pull it up, shimmying your hips and shoulders until it sits, corset back gaping.

Peering over your shoulder at him the doe eyes ratchet up his need to have you.

“Love, can you fix my straps?”

Nitko steps back mentally as a gentler alter fronts, you would not appreciate him tearing your dress off your body to fuck you into the mattress when you were looking forward to this event. Nitko doesn’t leave, watching through his as a softer version of him helps you.

You catch what happens the moment the switch occurs. Nikto asked once how you know when it happens, your answer of shoulders and face didn’t satisfy. The follow-up answer of ‘I know the same way I know which of my siblings is messing with me, practice’ also did not give him what he was looking for.

When your corset is threaded and tightened you turn and place a hand on either side of his face.

“Is Nikto needing some attention before I leave?”

Everyone is distracted by the brush of your thumb across their cheek.

“Yes,” the sound is dragged out of all of them.

“Okay,” you nod once. “Send him forward, I need to put on my rings and then I’ll see what I can do for you all. Go and grab a washcloth.”

Once the commotion in his mind settles down Nikto is fronting and in control again. Any part of him would do anything you ask. Someone had grabbed the washcloth before passing him the reigns. Movement from across the room pulls his gaze up.

There you stand, a vision so sinful only a devil could have sent you. Long dress sweeping toward the floor, arms exposed, and a collection of rings connected by thin chains to your bracelet on your dominant hand. You stand at the end of the bed.

“Come here, Andre.”

He stumbles forward as if shoved by the same devil that tempted him when you crook a single finger in his direction.

Hooking a single finger behind the button of his pants you undo it with ease.

A startled huff of air escapes his lungs. Even after so much time as a partnership you still surprise him. Nimble fingers push his pants and underwear down, collecting around his mid-thigh.

Fingers drag from outside of his hips over the bumps and ridges of scars until they collect all the power in his body at his dick. It rises as you drag your fingertips from root to tip as if you command his pleasure by touch alone.

“Now, my love, I am going out to have fun tonight.” Your volume stays low, causing him to lean forward.

The whiny little needs escaping him bring such a saccharine smile to your lips he vows to himself that he would perform like a whore paid by a king if only you kept touching him like this.

“You’re job is twofold.” You catch his eye now as your hand draped in metal, gods they were attracted wrapped around his dick, dimpled him in a tight grip. “Moan for me, and make sure not a drop of cum ends up on my dress alright?”

Nikto nods, enchanted by the seductress that holds him powerless.

The pace you set is brutal, the slight bite of the rings on your fingers catching on scars every so often. The words you shower him with are lost in the haze of pleasure you are bundling him in. He lets out every sensation as a cry of pleasure until you pause, violently ripping him from the pinnacle of orgasm.

Needy and thin his whine has you gripping his chin in two fingers and turning it until his glassy gaze is trapped by yours.

“My dress love. Get ready to catch.”

Remembering the edict you gave Nikto positions the washcloth to catch every spare drop of fluid that would undoubtedly gush out of him the moment you set back to your task.

Holding his eyes with your own you warm back up to your pace from before. As his balls are tightening up and reaching for his core your lips crash into his. That is how the orgasm finds him; with your hands one on his face and the other on his dick and your lips pressed to his as he has replaced oxygen.

You press one more kiss to his lips before removing the washcloth from his shaking hands. Nikto is only vaguely aware that you settle his pants back into place and change your underwear. He is still standing frozen when you place a kiss on his cheek and step into the living room to put your fancy shoes on.

That is where he finds you when he can walk and compute thought again. Sitting on the chaise you have one ankle propped across the opposite knee, buckling your shoe into place. Standing behind you his hand curls around your throat. He tugs you into an upright sitting position, the gasp under his heart line gratifying the need to return the gift you gave.

“When you are out tonight, remember it is my hand that will replace this.” Settling the choker that he had picked up a few days ago as a gift along your throat. It matched your outfit perfectly. That is part of why he bought it. “When you return I will devour the fluid I know drips into your underwear and then return the favor you have provided.”

The racing of your pulse under his fingertips nearly has him hard again.

“What a perfect way to end a fun evening,” you tip your head back and blink at him coyly. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Nikto can only grunt and watch as you blow him a kiss and step into the darkness beyond the door frame. He awaits your return as impatiently as a monster can.

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #nikto x reader #cod nikto #guess who's ovulating #lostintransit #lostintransit writing

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lets-try-some-writing · 8 months ago

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Hope your day is amazing! Hope you arent too stressed

How would the autobots react if Raf did in fact die from being blasted by dark energon? How do you think the series would change?

It would end horribly. Let me say that much.

I think Ratchet would take it hardest if I am being honest. After losing Cliffjumper and so many others, Rafael would be the final nail the coffin. I imagine the whole series would turn darker, if only on the side of the Autobots. Ratchet I think would begin to devote himself even more to his hatred of Megatron, possibly to the point of throwing himself into combat as well. He would want vengeance and a chance to redeem himself for his failure to help Rafael when he needed it most. He would embody the saying, "Demons run when a good man goes to war."

Optimus would remain in the grim state he found himself in during that episode. I don't see him going bayverse, but he would be darker and far less willing to offer mercy. I imagine he would still do his best to keep the Vehicons out of it, but seeing such a young life extinguished right in front of him, from another innocent species no less... I don't see it ending well. It would finally firm his resolve to kill Megatron and I can see both him and Ratchet working together in that regard and grieving together.

Arcee and Bulkhead I can see becoming far more protective of their wards, maybe even to the point of sending them away. They would refuse to risk anything after Rafael. If Jack and Miko weren't removed from their care, I don't doubt that they would be far more cautious and clinical. It was attachment that led to Rafael being injured in the first place. Best to keep things clinical until the kids inevitably do something that forces the team to acknowledge them again.

Poor Bumblebee though. He would take it just as hard as Ratchet I think. Rafael was his first ward and a friend. The death of Rafael as a byproduct of war I believe would influence him for better and for worse at the same time. He would step up, becoming more of a leader and a warrior as times demanded it. At the same time, he would follow in Optimus's footsteps and likely become more stoic after an initial phase of pure wrath that mimics Ratchet's mental state.

The Autobots as a whole would be far more wiling to fight and kill for victory. They've lost too many, and by the time Magnus and Smokescreen arrive, they will be in for one harsh wakeup call as the entire team march off to war with vigor and wrath not seen since the start of it all.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #alternate universe #rafael esquivel #tfp kids #team prime #ratchet #bumblebee #optimus prime #arcee #bulkhead #ultra magnus #smokescreen

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transingthoseformers · 7 months ago

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Lately, I've been trying to nail down the dynamics I like best for MegOp, and I've settled on at least one-

Megatron had plenty of on the fly, basically zero communication hookups during his gladiator days, where horny mechs would stand around looking sexy in the washracks and someone just groped you to initiate something (broken servo if you're rejected), but he's never started anything that needs a real conversation. His plan for seducing Optimus Prime post-war is:

- Be in sexy situations

- Optimus will simply stick his spike in me no conversation needed bc my panels are hip height and I'm attractive

- ????

- Profit

Meanwhile, Optimus Prime is a Normal person, who believes in wacky, outlandish, utopian things like bodily autonomy, and communicating his desires honestly. So when Megatron keeps comm.ing him about how he's been "stuck in a wall" or "needs help stretching" or "could really use a massage" Optimus mostly interprets these things as Megatron either choosing to spend time with him (romantically?), or, more importantly, being more vulnerable with him and "learning to ask for help", which he is wildly touched by. So, like a person interacting with a maybe dateable coworker, and not a porno actor.

Needless to say, Megatron is furious.

"I went through the trouble of positioning my aft so that it was sticking out of the wall PERFECTLY and he just- pulled me out of it! He didn't even feel me up while doing it!! The NERVE, Soundwave!!! It's like he's not even interested."

Optimus, earlier, 3 seconds after making sure Megatron was fine after the wall: "Do you want to refuel together later? I'd like to talk to you more often, but we're always so busy. We really should make more time for it."

Ratchet and Soundwave are getting wildly different answers when they ask their respective friend about how the progress of this relationship is going.

ghhGHJH YES

PROFIT or so he thinks

Megatron I swear to God, you're in for a situation

hdhdhh sorry I'm choking on my ramen at "stuck in a wall"

Optimus is here acting like a genuinely good person, and Megatron's so frustrated with it

And Optimus is exactly giving him a time of day to chat too

I need Ratchet and Soundwave to talk about the different sides of this and Realize

#valveplug #megatron #optimus prime #soundwave #ratchet #megop

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