#someone call the academy...

[ohrackham]

what was the point of lila thinking home was a feeling she didn't deserve and could never earn until she found diego. what was the point of them finding deep, meaningful love in each other. what was the point of lila opening her heart and confessing that all she really wanted was a family with him.

what was the point of developing diego and lila over two seasons, creating such a beautiful, chaotic bond, just to destroy it for no reason.

[hargr00vy]

babes your glow is showing

[laurrelise]

ok cool so this all makes total sense but quick question, and seriously, correct me if i’m wrong

but wasn’t five 13 when he disappeared? in 2002? or was that just a general headcanon by fans? i could’ve sworn it was completely canon in the show…?

[bilbos-stolen-untensils]

There's people that hate this man?? Genuinely are they okay because how the fuck..

[totally-correct-umbrellas]

i love psychoanalyzing the entire hargreeves family

[hygienic-soap-dispenser]

Weewoo weewoo!! Call 112, we have a hottie in the house

Fin feels like he'd be the type of guy who'd volunteer as a firefighter or EMS and absolutely slay at it

Decided to do this piece after sharing this same headcanon here

Reference photo under the cut~

[whatwooshkai]

We got 11 for the ask game yet ?

"You're kidding me," Heatwave says.

Boulder, Blades and Chase all shake their helms.

Heatwave's eyebrows go up, disappearing past the brim of his helmet. "So... do just not have mechs who care about you...?"

The three of them exchange a glance. Boulder's shoulders lift up to their audials, almost embarrassed.

They really don't know much about Heatwave was raised, but his corner of the room is the only one that actually looks lived in. The rest of them had only brought the absolute necessities (or in Boulder's case, everything they owned- which was a few smuggled nanite patches and a jar of polish Rubble had given them for their forging day last vorn), so besides the calendar on Chase's wall, their berths are barren.

"Well-" Chase starts, at the same time Blades says, "No." Boulder doesn't respond, because the answer is yes, but not the yes that Heatwave wants to hear.

"Oh." Heatwave's mouth pulls into a frown, tugging at the scars on his cheek. "I guess we'll have to fix that."

That startles a harsh, humorless laugh out of Blades. "Oh, please, Heatwave. Fix my upbringing-"

"Not what I meant," Heatwave interrupts, crossing his arms close to his chassis. "I meant like. The pillows and the blankets. I can fix that."

"No, you can't," Chase says, crossing his own arms as his finials pin back and his doorwings droop. "I have seen the balance of your credit chip. You will not be able to afford anything in Iacon."

Heatwave gasps in affront. "I so can-"

"Look, I have an allowance, I can afford my own stuff-" Blades starts, clearly trying to avoid a fight.

"I also have more shanix than you," Chase tells Heatwave. "I can also purchase my own items."

"That's not the point," Heatwave growls, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "I wanna do something nice for you guys! Besides, there's definitely places in Iacon where I can afford pillows and blankets. You-" he points accusingly at Chase, "-just don't know where to look!"

Chase's doorwings shoot up, offended. "You-"

"Okay, okay, that's enough." Boulder places themselves in between the two before the argument can escalate even further. "Here's an idea. All go together to one of Heatwave's stores and we pool our shanix to buy what we want. Does that sound good?"

Blades grabs Boulder's arm and holds tight, pressing against them in a silent Thank you!. Heatwave and Chase both stare at them balefully, before conceding and letting Boulder push them apart.

"Thank you," they say, then turn to Heatwave. "So where are these affordable shops?"

====================

Boulder was raised not to want material things. Boulder was raised believing they weren't worth material things.

They would've been fine with one pillow and one blanket. Maybe even just the blanket. But their roommates are truly a force to be reckoned with-

-which is why the four of them are stumbling through the streets of Iacon on the way home, arms piled so high with soft things that they can barely see over them. Chase has already run into Blades three times and Heatwave has almost been hit by a transport.

It should feel bad. Boulder should feel guilty for giving into temptation and taking more than they're worth.

But somehow- somehow it feels like this is what they're worth. That they deserve to have friends and nice things and a soft berth to recharge in.

Rubble would be happy for me, they assure themselves.

I can be happy for me too.

[fossilized-honey]

NO WAY

(From my school newspaper)

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

Not to defend James Vowles but y'all do realise that when he said Mick isn't special he didn't mean "Mick is a loser and I hate him and also he sucks at driving". Like you do realise that right?

To me that very much comes across as a poorly worded way of saying "Mick's a good driver, sure, but he's not the kind of one in a million driver who's so good that you'd put him in an unfamiliar car with no FP1 sessions, no sim time, and the risk that the team he's already got a contract with could take him away the second they need him, leaving us to find yet another replacement. Given those risks, we'd rather go with someone we already have a contract with who we've at least had the chance to give some sim time to so he knows what to expect and we know what to expect"

[solar-halos]

another cardinal SIN of umbrella academy s4 was poking fun at the idea of taking your shoes off before you start walking all up in your home

[finraliebachira]

Can someone nice help me build my bcm team plz

[earlgreyandanime]

Rose: I need you to help me break Victor Dashkov out of prison.

Eddie: Sure.

Abe and Lissa: We need you to help us break Dimitri out of house arrest.

Eddie: Whatever you need.

Abe and Lissa, again: We need you to help us break Rose out of prison.

Eddie: Absolutely.

Me: I really wanna see this kid in an escape room!

[cobraonthecob]

come on look at her results Bianca's results were nothing, are nothing. So many are beating her,

for me, she's a solid midfield driver and still growing, and i wouldn't call someone who won two races with a result of 'nothing', considering that not every driver in f1 academy got on the podium this season. not every driver can hit the ground speeding off 20 seconds ahead of everyone else, several drivers take awhile to really show what they're made of. i just think because bianca is really young in terms of driving experience (only her second year in a formula type car), that she's just tightening up all her errors and making strides to be more consistent, just like yuki has been doing these past few years. i'm processing this with a few grains of salt, though, since i know that the f1 aca cars should all be the same and it's not like i have to factor in whether or not the car itself is shit, but since we know the cars should be equal, i consider bianca a young midfield driver who should focus on becoming more consistent next year

i'm not defending her, i think she should just log off and really reflect on it before making an actual apology and then either making herself less online or get a PR team because this is an absolute disaster. i just think that her results speak for themselves, and i don't divorce driver's results from them as a person (i don't like max as a person, but i'm not going to deny the results in front of me no matter how much i dislike him)

it's just reminding me of how lewis in 2017 (linked is an article discussing lewis post all that) posted a video of him making fun of his nephew for wearing a dress, rightfully got backlash, and he deleted his twitter to take time to learn how this behavior can be harmful before coming back to be committed to fighting for trans people. maybe bianca can do what lewis did, or she'll go the way of daniel ricciardo (cw for misogyny) or n*lson peekay in which she doesn't learn.

[llettucestuff]

This was supposed to be a short thing about a hc I have where Chase’s frame is a bit colder than normal, and Heatwave’s a bit warmer. Instead, this kind of derailed and became… whatever this is. It’s very self-indulgent and probably a little OOC lol. This particular fic has Chase and Heatwave as Amica Endura’s btw, but I won’t always write them like that.

ALSO I haven’t written for Transformers in like, a REALLY long time so please excuse any missed terminology :]

ALSO ALSO Chase is kinda inspired by @/delkios HCs here on tumblr from like 2016, and this series on AO3, which is also inspired by delkios. More on that in the tags. Enjoy!

———

Chase muses about the general nuances between him and his Amica, and their overall relationship in relation to Griffon Rock.

Or, Chase runs cold. Heatwave runs hot. They make it work.

—

Despite his core temperature being at an optimal point for functioning, Chase still ran decidedly cold, through no fault of his own. He’d been that way ever since he was a sparkling, sitting in front of heaters trying to warm up his endlessly cool servos and pedes, never really feeling truly warm, servos always either burning hot or in their natural state of permanent cold.

His Amica, the mech after Chase’s own spark, on the other hand, ran hot like an earth furnace. Chase recalls being told various stories of Heatwave trying to cool himself down, sneaking into freezers and other places mechlings like him shouldn’t be. It was almost funny, the way they were trying to achieve the opposite of what the other was. Maybe that’s why they work so well together.

Chase’s servos were always a touch too cold to be pleasant or fully “normal,” digits sometimes stiff with inclement weather coupled with a chilled frame, Heatwave’s palms always warm and grounding, frame hot like his temper.

They were equilibrium for each other, opposites in the regard of outward frame temperature, always ready to cool one down or warm the other up. It worked, and that’s why they were Amicas.

(Not just for that sole fact, Chase would input, musing that Heatwave’s companionship meant much more to him than his admitted handiness as a personal heater).

That fact, that is, their cool and heat swapping tendencies, hasn’t changed in the many, many vorns that they had known each other, even pre-Amica Endura status. So, given that, it isn’t expected by either of them for it to change once they meet the rest of the Sigma-17 rescue team, where they meet Blades and Boulder, or when they hit Griffon Rock and discover their new mission— and it doesn’t, as they predicted so.

(It’s a touch curious and a bit of a wonder how neither Boulder nor Blades discovered their Amica status before Griffon Rock. It’s not like either we’re being particularly subtle, but they supposed that their combined general professionalism probably skewed the other two bots’ perception of them, and any private time between themselves was usually during recharge time, or so subtly done that it was overlooked. Chase would find it funny if he wasn’t so concerned about his friends perceptiveness.)

Apparently, after scanning their new vehicle modes, Chase and Heatwave’s frame temperature translated, to a degree, to the inside of their cabins. This doesn’t necessarily cause a bad problem, but, minor complications do arise.

Sometimes, Kade would gripe about the heat during the summer months, complaining that the heat made him sticky. Sometimes, Chief Burns would be a touch chilled when first entering Chase’s cab, though he never really commented on such.

Both were easily fixed and placated with the flick of a dial that had the Chief murmuring gratefully, sinking in to the warmth with a subtle but firm pat to the dashboard. On the other hand, it had Kade and Heatwave grouching at each other loudly until Heatwave finally cranked the AC as high as it would go, and, in a most petulant manner, they would spat for a few minutes longer, then acquiesce; although both Chase and Cody were proud to announce the fact that these spats and arguments had become fewer in frequency over the course of time, a fact that they took immense satisfaction in: it meant they were getting along, working together, tolerating each other’s presence. They still fought, surely, because that’s just who they were as people (and cybertronian).

(Chase would not divulge Heatwave’s late-night ramblings about his parter, ranging from words not meant for the likes of little audials, to worries about his human friend. Heatwave was shudder-to-think that Kade would actually realize that Heatwave listens to him, much less cares about him, in the covertly roundabout way that Heatwave does when he meets new people that seem to grow on him. Yes, Chase was sure Heatwave’s quiet affections were born out of nothing but pure concern about the fragileness of his squishy human partner and the rest of the Burns family.)

At the end of the day, when they had the time to spare and a near-certain guarantee of no impending emergencies to disrupt them, Heatwave would sit on the bot-sized couch, Chase’s helm cradled delicately in his lap, and they could bask in each others’ presence and talk in their native vernacular, occasionally watching human TV or reading datapads and books alike. Of course, they would swap positions interchangeably— it all depended on how the two felt on that particular night.

Heatwave’s heat would leach into Chase’s cool, and the two mechs would sit there, basking in the steady, familiar equilibrium of their soothed sparks and evenly-temperatured frames.

Sometimes, one of them would instead lay down on the couch like it was a squishy berth, and the other could lay on top, trading coolness for warmth (and vise versa), and let the steadiness wash over them, EM fields melding lazily, and systems shutting down to fall into an easy, quiet recharge.

It was peaceful. Routine, when they could afford it. Nice, even, though they would argue on separate fronts that any one-on-one time with their Amica was beyond just “nice”.

It was the perfect way to recharge, Heatwave thought, never one to shy away from physical affection (in the many gruff forms he typically dished it out in) with someone he loved. If Chase could have it his way, they would do this every night, holding servos and muttering halting words and conversations half-thought out to each other into the gentle quiet of the bunker.

Chase’s normally rigid, borderline inexpressive field going almost wiggly and boneless, blanketing over them as he grumbled tiredly over his Amica, shifting as he knocked their helms together gently in a spur of the moment bout of (what sometimes felt like an overwhelming amount of) affection.

Heatwave gave his servo a gentle squeeze, making soothing little sounds to calm the policebot back into recharge and settling his own field over the two of them, engine purring quietly in contentment. Heatwave was quick to glare and snap at any of the other bots that might come near them that were in the “living room” part of the bunker with them, mostly for fear that they might make a nasty comment on their admittedly compromising condition, though that happening in and of itself was a rare occurrence due to the timing of their little quiet moments, and the sheer respect the other two held for them.

It was actually Boulder who found them the first time it happened on Earth, Heatwave recharging so deeply his engine was stuttering, with his helm cradled in Chase’s lap with one of Chase’s servos supporting his neck plating.

Boulder had stopped and looked, eyeridge quirking up in a decidedly learned human gesture, to which Chase merely brushed him off with a wave of his free servo and a flick of his field dismissively, returning to his datapad. Boulder, ever the calm, non-confrontational mech, had never mentioned it after the fact, drawing his own conclusions in the privacy of his mind (with maybe a few snapped photos for his memory files, just in case).

The second time, it was Blades who found them, Chase soundly recharging while leaning against Heatwave, their servos clasped between one another even in his recharge. Heatwave glanced up from the TV and glared at Blades with a viciousness that would earn him a scolding later, who skittered off without a word of question, a touch too skittish to try and ask the angry firemech until much, much later.

Heatwave was protective and touchy when it came to his Amica and their status, sue him.

Over the months, Boulder finally gathered some courage to ask Chase about their potential relationship, with all the grace of a thudding ballerina.

“We’re Amica Endura,” Chase had simply said after Boulder’s shy, stuttered question, almost smiling and most definitely pleased with himself, if the way tender emotion seeping onto his faceplate was any indication, “and have been for many vorns.”

“I see,” Boulder had replied, grinning and nodding, grateful that admittedly tactless way he asked the question hadn’t upset the policebot. “You two were partners back in the Academy.” It’s more of a statement than a question, prodding at the prospective double-meaning of the word.

“Heatwave was the only mech who wanted to be around me back in the Academy, given my… unique circumstances.”

“Unique—? Oh. Right. Sorry, Chase, I didn’t—“ realize, didn’t remember, didn’t know it affected your life like that— a frown, field tugging in, then Chase’s reassurance:

“It’s quite alright, Boulder. No bodily damage or any vulgar obscenities said, as the Chief says.”

“You mean ‘no harm, no foul’, Chase?” Heatwave entered the room with thudding pedesteps, looking between the two with half-formed suspicion lingering in his optics, arms crossed right against his chest. “What’s this about?” His field tugged at Chase’s with question and apprehension lingering between them, a silent what’s going on both said and not.

“Boulder was just inquiring about our Amica Endura status,” Chase informs, tone bordering on bright, his audial twitching in a different direction— most likely he heard something from upstairs, “And I find that we are the most probable source of reliable information about the subject, Heatwave, and our friend was merely curious.”

“Right.” Heatwave grunted, field tugging Chase’s briefly in something like relief and acceptance before patting his shoulder armor firmly and moving on, the brief contact exchanging both pleasant warmth and much-needed coolness.

“I think he’s a little…” Boulder trailed off, searching for a word that was less-rude than “prickly” or “overly worried”.

“Protective?” Chase hummed in question, helm tilting to the side, “I feel the same, but it is entirely warranted, given our past, and he is my Amica.” Chase says, like it explains everything, and, well, maybe it did, “I will stick by him, rites-willing.”

Boulder smiled in that soft, knowing way of his, optics warm. “Must be nice, having a sparkner all this time. I’m glad you have each other.”

“As am I. I’m grateful to have Heatwave for so long, and I’m want for nothing more in a partner.”

“That’s awfully sweet,” Bounder’s field went all soft, his affection tugging at Chase’s stiff field. “You balance each other out, now that I think about it.” Remembering all of the times Chase was able to calm Heatwave when he was on an irate, angry warpath with a servo to the shoulder plate and some hushed words exchanged in soft Cybertronian; all of the times Chase was stuck in a cyclical, logical thought-process and couldn’t see things from a different light had Heatwave telling him the facts point-blank, trying to drill his way through and urging Chase to attack the issue from a different, still somewhat logical connection.

Now that he thinks about it, Boulder recalls how Heatwave was always the mech that ran the warmest when they were on the Sigma, practically radiating heat in the endless, desolate cold of space that even they could feel. Chase was always the coldest, seemingly emanating a unique sort of cool that seemed permeated the space around him in some circumstances.

Opposites, indeed. But, Boulder thought, it was kind of fitting. Chase’s mouth tugged into that half-grin of his, “That we do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Boulder, I have some studying to do.” And with that, Chase sauntered off, likely in search of his police manual.

“Huh. Wonder how we didn’t see it before.” Boulder mumbled to himself, shaking his helm fondly and turning around to go back to the bunker through the garage.

“See what?” Blades asked, turning the corner, “If there’s any gossip, I want to know!��� Primus, he was sounding more and more like Dani every day.

“I, uh. Well, you see,” Boulder attempted, still unsure if the two Amicas wanted their relationship aired out.

Blades shot him a look, both teasing and intrigued. “Well?”

Scrap.

[spacephobos]

some ppl on the internet will really argue that characters that look like this "aren't feminine"

like yall really genuinly think this is the only way a character can look to be considered feminine

and then will turn around and argue a woman in heels and full makeup is actually masc bc she what? wore jeans? (this goes double for non white women who are held to a much higher scrutiny)

ive seen this in so many fandom spaces. and some of you guys really have such a binary and sad outlook on gender and gender expression and really genuinly hate anything that isnt within a strict gender binary. and then will frame white women in dresses as being so "subversive and feminine when all female characters are masculine nowadays"

literally you guys hate masc women so much that any woman not in a dress 24/7 is "too masculine" in your eyes

[witheringghoul]

i keep seeing people using efa for fives mums name and apparently he’s from ireland… becuase if he is his mums name should be spelled aoife