#transformers groove

[they-hermes]

my beloved little guy

[arcee4me]

SHUT UP NOBODY TALK, LOOK AT THE SILLYS

[lara-prism-light]

Part 6 of Lara shows off her old Transformers drawings!

The Minicon I made and her alt-mode. She specifically transformed into a shield.

The only drawing I have of Windblade.

Slipstream and I think it's Thundercraker?

Optimus(?) and Rodmus.

Starscream and Jetfire (I don't remember what this scene was supposed to be)

I don't remember the name of these, but I think it was supposed to be the female Combiner? Yeah, I don't remember the name either TwT

Buckets and Groove.

I hate these proportions...😭

These are the first drawings I made of the main four at the time.

[hoiststowline]

west texas wind [ch.3]

hot spot x reader

While an onset of quieter rotations would bring a more pleasant atmosphere to most, it only presented a set of stakes that would soon become impossible to overcome. There were no blips of interference to the point where even he felt the machinery was faulty, a nauseating glitch that did nothing but unravel him more. 

However, it arrived with no surprise, unimpressed that such tactics were being deployed as if he would turn a blind observer. He knew better, thankfully, but could not make his team wholly agree, more than half of them revealed in the notion of ‘days off’. Never time to let a previously strong held guard down, but Hot Spot was not one to squash their well-deserved relaxation, never minding to pick up the extra slack.

That’s what he does, always willing to carry and never letting anyone know of the tightly wound ball of stress that sits within his spark chamber. Streetwise knew bits and pieces, First Aid perhaps understanding a vague overview, but not a soul knew full well of the situation other than himself.

He likes to keep it that way, willing to haul it on his shoulders and keep it his well-kept secret. It’s the job, he supposes, and while it all comes crashing down on him now and then, he can fix it. Hot Spot is good at fixing things, and putting the fires out, figuratively and literally.

So he sits in his alt-mode, tucked just up against the side of your house, hoping to remain out of sight, from both you and some unwanted passersby. It’s a form of reset, able to recharge peacefully knowing you are not left defenseless, and he is away from a mountain of paperwork that isn’t staring him down across a messy berthroom.

Just as he goes to power down, there’s a tell-tale thunk of a window sliding open, a familiar sound that has his sensors starting back up.

“Hi, Spots,” You whisper, though there is no one around to hear it. “You alright?”

Such a loaded question, and unbeknownst to many, he discloses a lot more to you than his fellow mechs. And it has nothing to do with trust, more so that you always seem to ask the right queries in the most important situations, always when they are most needed. It doesn’t take much to get him to open up, even if most see him as a reserved and passive leader.

“My intention was not to wake you,” He hums, just after he rolls his windows down. “My apologies.”

He freezes as you laugh, a soft sputter as you lean a bit further out the window, elbows resting on the wooden sill. “You didn’t.” It’s painfully obvious he ignored your question, but you chose to circle back on it later. “I’ve been up working on some stuff. I saw a light and figured it was you.”

“I do find myself here quite often,” His words are slightly relaxed, as if exhausted. “Do you have work that needs to be completed?”

You try to stifle the yawn, but your reflexes aren’t on par with a sleepy mind so your palm doesn’t meet your mouth fast enough to cover it. "It’s not urgent, it does need to be wrapped up soon.”

“It is quite late,” Though he says it, inching toward you getting your rest, he doesn’t wholeheartedly mean it. It’s an unspoken suggestion, one that you understand without much deciphering.

Hot Spot just let his guard down, emotions likely dangling on the tips of his servos, and though he will never ask it, he wants you to stay. Curse his best intentions for you, because if his spark had its way, he’d be nothing short of talking your ear off until you’d sooner slam the window shut. But his intelligence always seems to come back from the depths he stuffed it to momentarily, quickly urging you back inside to get some undoubtedly well-deserved rest.

“I will, I will,” You wave him off, amusement heavy, but it quickly disappears. “But…is something on your mind? I know I can’t see your face, but you just sound so…sad,”

There you go, picking apart his defenses so easily it’s as if they were never really there at all. He ex-vents, toying with the idea of dropping such an unnecessary burden onto your small shoulders. You didn’t deserve it, not even a bit, but when you ask so genuinely like that, Hot Spot always comes back to the same thing that gets him all riled up.

He can never deny you, no matter how small of an ask you desire.

“It is a late hour. Perhaps now is not the best time,” He tries, but fumbles to be firm about it. “Get some recharge, little one. We may speak in the morning,”

A pout appears on your face, an actual jut of your bottom lip, unimpressed by his deflection. “Spots…”

Once more, left utterly defenseless and unable to scrounge the pieces back up, the leader of the Protectobots ultimately concedes. “Five kliks. First Aid will have my helm if you are ill-rested,”

“He’ll never know,” A noise of concern escapes him, momentarily frightened as you vault yourself out of the first-story window, landing on the grass just beside his driver-side door with a soft thud. It wasn’t a far leap, not at all, but the way you did it so nonchalantly frightens him more than the fact you did it in the first place.

“Please don’t ever do that again,” He breathes, the door opening anyway as you scramble up the firetruck's steps. “Use the door, y/n. That is what it is there for.”

“This was faster,” He notes the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching you through the rearview mirror as you move to settle in your seat, the passenger chair. After he rolls back up the windows and closes the door, you find yourself entirely secluded from the outside world, a beautiful sight. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” And it’s not a jest, he’s serious, he always is. “I’d appreciate your company regardless if that is alright with you.”

"Fine by me." You forfeit, curling up into a blanketed ball atop the mildly worn leather seat. "I'll never turn down you and I time," 

He'd love to know why, easily understanding most of the time, he was poor company and a horrible conversation creator and keeper. If he could pride himself on one thing, he'd say he was a good listener, but that didn't always work out in everyone's favor, lest yours. 

"Because it is something that does not happen very often?" Hot Spot tries, attempting to ignore the way your tiny fingers run over the rivets of the seat. 

"Sorta." You laugh, soft and childish-like. "I also just like you, Spots." 

And if he understood any better, you'd relayed a string of words that had a handful of different meanings. Being the good sport he is, he opted to ignore the kicking of his cooling fans and press onwards without another hiccup. Taking a complement as high as that one is impossibly incomprehensible, and even trying to think of a reply sends his processor down a winding rabbit hole that is deeper than the last one he just dug himself out of. 

When he doesn't answer, you reluctantly push forward, mouth dry all of a sudden. "Did you come over to get some rest?"

"Initially." Hot Spot rumbles, confession facile. "I, too, am ignoring some work that needs to be finished. I apologize for showing up unannounced." 

"You never have to ask," Cheek smushed up against the backrest, you miss how his rearview mirror effortlessly tilts your way. "I've come to like the unexpected."

"Is that so?" He chuckles, unsure of your lucidity. 

"Yeah. Groove brought me a bouquet of wildflowers the other day; he found them up on that mountainside you've taken me to before." Your words are slurred, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "S'nice. You guys are nice." 

You briefly recall the motorcycle entering the garage, transforming fluidly whilst holding one servo behind his back, a small smile on his face. "Whatcha got there?" You try to peek, but he wasn't having any of it. 

"A present," Groove laughs, taking two steps back as you approach him sneakily. "Close your eyes." 

Doing as you are told, you listen intently as he takes a shuffled step closer, leaning forward before gently grasping one of your wrists, setting something in an unanticipated palm before pulling back slightly. Waiting patiently, you hang fire until he says you can look, rocking gingerly from the heels of your shoes to the tips as your eyes squeeze tighter. 

"Alright." He breathes. "Go ahead. You can look." 

Groove nearly doubles over as you squeal in happiness, fingers coming to brush up along the soft petals of the bright yellow coneflowers, adoring the bouquet he had gathered. "Groove!" You had exclaimed, holding them close to your chest as if they would go anywhere. "Thank you! This is so thoughtful; I love them!" 

The motorcycle had come back to base a little less furled up, most of his frustrations of the day had escaped him in the pit stop he insisted on taking. Hot Spot's retelling of the story makes more sense now, having had you fill in his blanks, himself wondering just where Groove had wandered off to blow off steam. 

"And so are you, y/n." Appreciation of your efforts is not something he takes lightly, wanting you to know you are highly recognized in many of their minds. All roads lead to you, and while it is an amazing regard, it means as well that you are a walking target, one that Hot Spot loathes to see. 

"I know I'm a pain in the ass sometimes." Convinced it's the delirium speaking, Hot Spot allows your innermost concerns to be freed in a moment of vulnerability. "And m'probably disrupting your sleep right now..." 

Another laugh escapes him, yet much quieter than the previous one. "No, never. Though, from my perspective, it would be the other way around." 

"Mhm. Love ya, Spots." It's garbled, muffled by the armrest that you've sunk downward to curl up against. "G'night."

It takes a moment, conceivably a minute too long, but the mech gathers the courage to reply, fighting the urge to power down as well. "Likewise. Good night, y/n."

When he finds that your breathing has evened out, entirely still and unmoving, that is when he enters recharge, and not a moment sooner. Now, he finds that he can fully relax, conscious that you are quite literally within the safest hands possible and far away from the instability that is certain to come knocking unfathomably soon. 

[pollopom]

girl get up

[prettiestplatypus]

The Animal HRT silliness AyvieArtTV created is back and I had the perfect idea for a nice 3 page comic of it

And a bonus panel

[theangrycomet-art]

TFA Redesigns Part 2: ft Team Athenia, the "new" Protectobots and Rescue Force Sigma-17

Part 1

still annoyed that drew i drew team athenia is facing the wrong way

COMMISSIONS OPEN:

Random Lore Dump Ramblings Below the Cut:

Team Athenia is not disbanded, but they are stationed back on cybertron security while Rodimus recovers from the Cosmic Rust

Rodimus is a terrible patient and keeps trying to sneak out of the hospital and get back to work (not that he's very successful considering the damage hems undergone; there's been talk of a total reframe and that kind of scares of him)

Red Alert (as second command and technically now in-charge of the team) is VERY stressed out and struggling not to fall back into old habits and paranoia (it doesn't help that one of her conjuxes is MIA too)

Ironhide is NOT joining the Earth Team but he did visit there with Hot Shot checking a lead on an old bootcamp buddy, where he picked up his new alt mode

Brawn is... well if you ask him he says he's fine but he's as stressed as Red Alert about everything going on without a nice outlet of 'con bashing to let it out with

The Protectobots' were picked more off their frametypes then their skillsets; Sentinel got REALLY lucky there that these guys are all highly competent, quick learners

They were all required to get new paint jobs with a white base with single color accents, with the exception of First Aid (who already met the color requirements) and Hot Spot (who had the reverse- single color base with white accents)

First Aid is putting his 200% into Ultra Magnus' recovery because he does NOT want to be Sentinel's poster boy. These mechs are nice but First Aid is a doctor not some mascot. It's hard enough being taken seriously as is.

Streetwise was actually partners with Chase. In contrast to the latter's by the book attitude, he was more focused on working with people to keep them out of trouble.

Blades was another "expendable" "volunteer" for the Aerialbot project after getting bashed in treating a patient in field. (His previous frame being the same mold of Ironhide and Ratchet.) Unlike the Twins, he is not taking his forced frame change with much grace, a bit divided between fear of his new body/being forced to use it and fury for what was done to him...

Hot Spot, the unofficial "leader" of the protectobots, is trying to keep a cheerful outlook with the group of mech's he's been assigned. Honestly, he liked his previous job better, but this can't end up THAT bad, right?

Groove is the only one that signed up for the protectobots, even if he was technically trying to apply for a traveling permit to explore more organic planets with his buddy Boulder. He's testing the waters to see whether he's gonna stick around or not.

NGL, I don't really have too many ideas for the Rescuebots in TFA pre-Earth beyond "and they did their specific jobs very well" sort of thing

Chase wasn't very popular amongst his fellow cops because he was such a stickler about the rules and didn't hesitate to report any misconduct amongst his peers (taking bribes, initiating a search without a warrant, arresting without a warrant, etc.)

Heatwave and Hot Spot both trained under Inferno (Hot Spot may or may not have had a tiny, miniscule crush on his barrack buddy while they were training...)

[parhelionz]

Completely optional bc Ik you’re doing a render piece rn but can i mayb request a starscream drawing for sometime in the future? 🙏💕

P.S love your art! You’re very talented and a big inspo to me! :D

yea im always up for drawing her !!!!!!!! pls req 900 more starscreams so i have an excuse to just post her 4ever

[ny000mdraws]

some more tfp au stuff

[seafoamsol]

He’s antagonising Dead End [ x ]

[greatgoddyke]

pony posting

[velnar3]

[arcee4me]

man if i had a nickel for every time i’ve drawn Groove missing his right arm i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it happened twice, right?

[lara-prism-light]

Part 5 of Lara shows off her old Transformers drawings!

Optimus (Orion) and Elita (Ariel). Ariel was a singer before she became Elita One in my version of the character. She and Optimus share the dream of changing Cybertron into a better world with their own voices and actions, peacefully.

Someone found some Dark Energon...👀

Starscream and Jetfire again.

The Protectobots!

Breakdown being a good boyfriend to Knock Out.💙❤️

I have a preference for First Aid ok?? LET HIM BE LOVED!!!

Arcee and Cliffjumper because they need more love.

Transmutate being cute and trying to fit in with the other Predacons. Well, at least Rampage is willing to be their friend. Also yeah, I based this design on a recolor of Prime Arcee.

Bumblebee and a Mini con I made! I don't think I gave her a name.

[hoiststowline]

west texas wind [ch.4]

rook x reader x groove

Oftentimes, the smallest things accrue the most fascination, heavily impressed by the most mundane things, finding simple objects that have been unknowingly taken for granted. One could guess it's more distraction than entertainment, finding arduous tasks more joyous among good company, but this all remains a theory. There were many things that you had brought to their impromptu home: electronics and random games that were mentioned offhand but garnered an interesting response, enough that you were piqued to see its outcome. Monopoly was the first to receive a ban, the evening concluding with Rook in a headlock courtesy of Blades, the two of them wrestling on the ground when the latter had to declare bankruptcy courtesy of the former. 

"This is usually a fight starter," You remember warning, hesitant to pull the lid off the box when the idea had been brought forward, but had no reason to deny it. "And we can play with two, but three might be better to move the game along," 

It took the utmost effort to plead with Blades to play; he wasn't so thrilled to be interrupted on his day off as he so kindly reminded you twice. "I'd rather you wash me with paint thinner," He'd gruffly replied, not even opening his optics as he lounged in his room, hardly dignifying your requests.

It was obvious he hadn't wanted to do anything with the three of you initially, but you needed to be the mediator and the banker, so after a succession of puppy-dog eyes and a pout, he begrudgingly relented after cracking his eyes open. He made it clear he wasn't happy about it, but he wasn't entirely so sure he could hold firm when you looked at him like that. 

Rook was the one who caught on the fastest, a strategy forming before your eyes that set him on a fast course to win. "I can now see why it would be a fight starter," Groove chuckled, sensing the animosity between Blades and Rook, shuffling just a bit closer to you to whisper the next part. "Five Shanix that this ends badly."

You had returned the gesture, head leaning on his shoulder to whisper back. "I don't have any Shanix, but I'm sure this is going...to be...fine..." Groove couldn't contain his laughter at that point, watching as shortly after, it all went to hell. 

"Y'know, when people smack the ground, that's tapping out!" Rook had one servo around Blades arm, prying at his plating to break free of the headlock he was nestled in while Groove poorly attempted to peel them away from each other, all while laughing hysterically. "This is so embarrassing," 

Rook dares to briefly look your way, and to his horror, you're nervously trying to tell Groove to stop tormenting, all while saying: "Help Roo, don't laugh at him!" 

"Just proves this is a much better game of strategy, and I win." Blades huffs, seemingly annoyed, but it was undeniable the small smile that had settled on his face. 

But it was all in good fun, something to be offered as compensation for their thankless hard work. An interruption to the mundane daily routine if, for once, you could sit down and enjoy yourself just as much as they did. Forever willing to find anything that could make them happy, they were more willing than ever to do the same for you, unbeknownst. Unable to help such persistent thoughts, terribly zoned out, you're brought back to reality as a soft cushion lands in your lap, just barely smacking your chin, all gentle. 

At the sudden motion, you blink wildly momentarily, gaze adjusting among the room before settling on the two mechs at your front, looking at you entirely too concerned to try and worm yourself out of this one. "Y'alright?" Rook asks, clearly the culprit of the pillow tossing, as his servo was still in the underhand position, frozen there. "You were just on another planet just now," 

Rook and Groove shared a room, and frequently, it was theirs you crashed in during extempore sleepovers, having a small accumulation of pillows and blankets stuffed in a random corner. On many attempts, you had tried to take them home, feeling bad for taking up already limited space, but each time, Groove stood in front of the door and refused to move until you put them back 'where they belonged'.

"y/n?" Groove asks, worry seeping heavily in his tone. "Are you sick? Do you wanna go see First Aid?" 

Hastily, you shake your head, finally finding your voice. "Sorry, sorry. I'm fine, promise. Just totally spaced out for a second." 

They both immediately deflate, relief flooding them simultaneously when you answer, yet they stand a little more attentively as if they don't entirely believe you. "And why is that?" Rook ventures, enunciating the right word to get to the root of the problem, impervious by your deflection. 

"I was thinking," You hum, trying to appear unbothered to quell their worry. "What happened?" 

They exchange a look, clearly unimpressed by your poor display. "What were you thinking about?" The motorcycle takes a step forward, tilting his helm to the side in curiosity. "Somethin' the matter?" 

"Huh? No," Fingers fumbling in your lap, a soft smile overtakes your face in the recollection. "It was something good. A funny memory, that's all." 

How you ended up there might partially be due to how common bickering between Rook and Groove was. It was mostly childish and over trivial things, and while they all fought now and then, it could best be described as sibling quarrels. The SUV and the motorcycle just happened to argue the most, but they were also the best of friends, frequently finishing each other's sentences and laughing their asses off together. 

So the Monopoly incident was fondly recalled due to a squabble they'd gotten into moments prior, and while you can't even remember what they were fighting about, it made you think of their dynamics. 

"Yeah? What would that be?" Rook takes a seat next to you on the berth, servo hugging your side as you're left under his arm. It's not invasive, more so comforting, giving you plenty of room all while addressing you. "When Groove fell flat on his face the other day?" 

That receives a well-written smack just to the upper arm, the one not curled around you, courtesy of the white and gold mech in reference. "I don't remember that being funny." Groove deadpans.

Rook shrugs, indifferent to his sarcasm. "I think it was." 

"No, no. It wasn't that. And Groove tripping was not funny," Quick to cease fire, you speedily wave your hands in defeat. "I was thinking about the Monopoly ban. And the poker incident..." 

"That wasn't my fault," Clearly feigning innocence, the smaller mech brings a servo to his chest. "Slaghead shouldn't have bet his high grade on a nine and five hand," He takes the unoccupied seat at your right, leaning back against the wall while keeping close to you. 

"Tell him I didn't know," Rook nudges you gingerly, voice hushed, but there was no way Groove didn't hear it. "I thought that was good! y/n, please-" 

They both jump minutely when you tilt your head back in laughter, hand rising to stifle it, but it's all in vain. It wasn't extremely out of place, but it was rather unprompted, and when they both opened their mouths to question it, you beat them to it. 

"Speaking of games," You lean back, addressing them both. "Can you show me that card game you play? I'd like to watch," 

"Watch?" Groove offers you a servo to help you down, to which you readily accept. "I'll do you one better. We'll teach you,"

Rook nods enthusiastically and all but jumps off the berth to rummage around his desk, trying to find the deck of cards. "It's around here somewhere..."

They leave you no option to argue, to which you happily oblige, a smile that begins to hurt lingering on your cheeks.

[t052ther0b0t]

VERY LATE NEW YEARZ!

Being late with art iz a re0ccurring trend I just realized-

BUT ANYWAY!! I h0pe every0ne wh0 seez thiz p0stz had a happy new year, 0r haz idk :P