#transformers wb

[mecharust]

Optimus design for my au

[natfoe]

Red Team!

[avocado62524]

[showstopper35]

Perfect Invention - Starjack

a/n- feeding the 3 starjack shippers with this one. fluff.

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When Wheeljack woke up, he saw Star standing in front of their floor-length mirror. An unnecessary addition to their already extravagant quarters, but it had made Star happy so he had bought it nonetheless.

Star's face was contorted in that familiar scowl, looking both annoyed and slightly frustrated. He moved his perfect silver claws down his hips and thighs, glaring at himself in the glass.

"Star...?" Wheeljack asked, his voice soft and groggy.

Star looked faintly startled, and even a bit guilty. It was a rare look for him, one Jackie did not like. He watched as his winged partner schooled over his features, his expression returning to that coy aloofness that came with years of believing he deserved better.

"Good morning, dearest," Star said, leaning over the bed as Jackie sat up to kiss him softly.

Dearest, huh? So he was upset about something. Still, he let his partner kiss him, bringing one big hand up to cup Star's flawless, sharp face. Jackie stretched after they moved apart, slowly getting out of bed as Star practically sashayed into the kitchen. Those seekers and their damn heels.

Jackie follows him into the kitchen, watching his partner's wings shift in the windows' light. Sometimes it was like he was seeing him for the first time again, wanting to re-memorize every groove in his plating and minuscule scratch in his paint. Jackie wraps his arms around Star as the Seeker stands at the counter, burying his face into the crook of Star's neck.

"Clingy." The Seeker scoffs, but from the way his wings droop slightly, he enjoys the affection. He takes some energon from the dispenser and places it in two bowls, handing one to Jackie. He takes it with a nod of thanks, and they sit down at their small table that Star insists on calling a dining table, even though it only has room for four chairs.

They eat in silence for a bit before Jackie speaks up in a cautious voice. "What's the matter?"

Star puts on a mask of confusion, the one he does when he's trying to play dumb. It's never worked on Jackie.

"What do you mean? I am perfectly alright, especially now that you are awake." Star says, suddenly picking at his food.

"What was all that glaring at the mirror, then?" Jackie pushes. The only way to get through to Star is to press, even if he ends up scratching back. Star looks away for a minute, most likely trying to come up with a lie.

"I was just...inspecting myself." He mutters, trying to seem dismissive.

"You looked beautiful, as always," Jackie says, just as soft.

There's a beat as Star looks at him, his optics narrowed, most likely searching Jackie's face to see if he was lying.

"You really mean that?" His voice is uncharacteristically soft. He must be more upset than he lets on.

"Of course. Every time I look at you, it's like I am seeing you again for the first time."

"We met on a battlefield. It wasn't exactly a nice first impression." Star says, but he's trying not to smile.

"I don't care. I've fallen in love with you more and more every other time I see you. You're gorgeous, Star." Jackie says quietly.

"Even...if I'm cold-constructed?" His lover's voice is so small, perhaps the smallest Jackie has ever heard it.

Jackie gets out of his chair and comes around the table, kneeling in front of his lover. He takes one of Star's claws and squeezes it softly.

"Star, you know that doesn't matter one bit. You are perfect the way you are." He looks into Star's red optics, trying to show him how sincere he is being.

"I was made in a lab. Made to be perfect. I'm a fake, I'm just a shitty imitation of what could be, I-" Jackie silences him with a touch to his cheek.

"You are a beautiful invention, far more beautiful than anything I could have created. You are not a fake because you are yourself, Star. And I love you for who you are." He cups his lover's cheek, stroking his thumb across Star's sharp cheek-plating, watching his optics soften.

Star is quiet for a moment. Then another. He then gently turns his helm, placing a soft kiss on Jackie's palm. He remains quiet, pressing another soft kiss to his lover's fingers.

"I really love you, Star," Jackie says softly. "I don't care if you weren't forged. You are the most beautiful thing ever made in all of Cybertron."

Star's wings twitch, his body giving a slight shudder before he leans forward, pressing his face into Jackie's neck. Jackie rubs his back softly, just between his wings.

"I...I love you too. Thank you." He mumbles, bringing his arms around his partner's white and grey shoulders. Star closes his eyes, breathing softly.

Jackie strokes his helm, then runs a hand across the top of Star's wings, causing his lover to shiver.

"Don't push it." comes a soft growl, Star's voice muffled against his neck. Jackie laughs softly, earning a small bite from Star.

"Hey, watch the fangs!"

"Shut up, Jackie."

[stunticonbreakdown]

Fun Breakdown Fact of the Day: in an older transformers web game from the Hasbro games site, Breakdown has a boss fight where he uses a similar vibration ability to G1 Breakdown, and almost exactly the same as Wildbreak's in RID15!

[quibbs126]

So question, are there any fanfics about Wildbreak from RID 2015 being a KOBD kid, but like it’s about Knock Out who’s having to raise their kid alone because of Breakdown dying in Prime, and him just having to deal with all of that?

Because I don’t know, I think that’d be interesting to read, and I’m fairly certain someone’s already made that fanfic somewhere

[monochromexz]

What a nice and trustworthy looking little guy i sure hope he isn’t responsible for any atrocities

[nabulos]

Horrendous Art Block, meet Cute Robot Girl (transformers cyberverse windblade)

[theweirdestroller]

Blasting Through the Tracks

The rat and I are well accustomed to swapping art for writing, seeing as how they can art, and I can write. This is one of many trades I've made. So, that being said, @mfganonymous, here's the first part!!

This is for an AU that I've had for a bit. I affectionately call the KOBD Family AU. Tracks being a KOBD child is an idea yoinked from @vivificanousprime. Blaster being the host of the Polihex Groove is from @energonshot's fic Radio Static

Cybertron was... Different. It was a lot less road than back home, but far more interesting. Despite being a final frame, and one with a creator living on Cybertron, this was the first time Tracks had ever been on the planet.

He wasn't really supposed to be there, and Knockout would freak out if he knew, but not only did Breakdown live here, but Tracks was fully grown and could do as he pleased.

Everyone knew Cybertron was deep in the throes of war, it's one of the many reasons Tracks had heard for why Knockout stayed on Velocitron. He also knew that Breakdown was a part of this war. Breakdown had never bothered to share which faction, probably for Knockout's sake, but Tracks was fairly certain which side his Stunticon creator fought for.

Which was why Tracks was currently lost somewhere near- Actually, Tracks had no idea where he was, even slightly. Not only was this his first time on Cybertron proper, but the much of the planet was already in ruins from the war.

When he landed planetside, he was told the nearest Autobot recruitment center was in Protihex. Tracks did not know where he landed or where Protihex was. He had also been given a rather ominous "Good luck getting there" and was more than a bit rattled.

He probably would have had better luck just sneaking onto the Stunticons' ship, but not only would Knockout have noticed almost instantly when Tracks wasn't there to bid farewell to Breakdown, but Motormaster would find him, and being grounded via Motormaster was actual hell. At least with his creators he could gain sympathy points by looking miserable or sad. And all his other uncles could be bribed easy enough.

But he was a final frame! Nothing was stopping him from buying a ticket for the next transport heading to Cybertron. And that's exactly what he did. He told Knockout that he was spending the day racing with Blurr and would later be helping out Salvage. Blurr wasn't his closest friend, but the two hung out enough to not be suspicious. And then he went down to the Docks.

The Docks had been flooded with people. All kinds of folks from everywhere on Cybertron! It was also the first time Tracks had ever seen a transport frame. They were massive! Bigger than even Motormaster! Not bigger than Menasor, of course. The only frames bigger than Menasor were the titans!

Tracks really wanted to see a titan. He had heard that the Autobots had a couple of titans on there side. They were probably an incredible sight to behold.

"I mean- Can you believe it! The gall! I'm glad I'm not a part of his unit. Mech would drive me crazy in nanokilks!" Tracks had heard a lot of chatter from his wandering. Mostly from neutrals scouring the ruins of once towering cities. But this voice, it practically demanded attention. And the deep, rumbling laugh that followed the voice made him curious.

Tracks followed the voice, and soon voices as whoever was laughing at the loud voice had started talking.

It was quite the long walk, for Tracks to be following a simple voice. He found out why soon enough.

The bot speaking had built-in speakers! And Tracks didn't see his companion until-

"Steeljaw's biting my pede"

"I am not! ... ... You can't feel that, can you?"

The two talking were a titan (and a mini, but Tracks had priorities here)! A massive titan that was very obviously a city titan. A gargantuan, towering guy. And clamboring over him were a gaggle of mini-cons. Minis that likely belonged to the speaker mech.

"Woah." Tracks had vocalized his awe before he realized it.

That had gained the group's attention rather quickly. All optics were on him.

"Uh... Hello" Tracks gave a small wave. "Do you happen to know the way to Protihex?" The speaker and titan turned to each other for a moment, a wordless conversation between them.

"Signin' up for the 'Bots mechling?"

"Uh, yeah..." The speaker's face split into a wide grin.

"You're at just the right place! C'mere! We can get you all set up," The mech waved him over. The titan chuckled, deep and rumbly. Tracks could feel it through his whole frame.

"This is Protihex?" It was said with skepticism, because they were very obviously in the ruins of a city.

"Nope!" The orange speaker made a flourishing gesture to his titan companion. "Welcome to Scramble City! Made of the one and only; Metroplex!"

Said Metroplex flushed blue at the words.

"I'm nothing big," The speaker cackled at the wording. "But he is! This is Polihex's own Blaster! Host of the Polihex Groove!"

"What about us!" A visor-ed mini sitting on Metroplex's shoulder chirrped. The titan gentley scooped the large amount of minis into his hands and delicatly set the group on the ground.

"And these are the cassettes," The titan introduced them, fondness coloring his tone. "The remaining cast and crew working behind Blaster,"

"How does this help me join the Autobots?" Blaster gave Tracks a smirk.

"Not only are you looking at the host of the Polihex Groove, but! The current and only member of Autobot Comm Ops," Blaster gave a bow.

"He's making it sound cooler than it really is again," One of the cassettes groaned, flopping over the winged lion cassette. The lion shook his brother off.

"So- You could get me into the Autobots?"

"Yep! Lets get started!" Blaster perched on Metroplex's pede, the cassettes crowding around the second he settled. Blaster pulled a datapad from his cassette dock. Tracks did not think that was comfortable.

"Des?"

"Tracks." Blaster typed it into the pad.

"City of orgin?"

"Accelera, Velocitron," Blaster let out a whistle.

"Velocitron, ay? What's your fastest?"

"0 to 60 in 1.02 and I can get up to 280 on a straightaway"

"Wow. I wouldn't say you could rival Blurr, but you can definitely get places," Blaster looked back to the datapad.

"Ah, yes. Alt?"

"Dual-changer? I think?"

"Ya think?"

"I've got a ground-based and flight-based. There's not much difference besides wings and boosters" Blaster only offered a considering hum.

"Great! You're in!" Blaster chucked the datapad behind him, the pad plinking against Metroplex before clattering to the floor. The speaker leapt to his pedes and gave an exagerated stretch. "The lot of us ought to get back to base anyway,"

"Where is the base?" Tracks asked, watching as the cassettes transformed and docked in Blaster.

"Iacon. It's a ways away, but Plexi can cover quite the distance,"

And that is when Metroplex stood up. And Tracks lost his processor.

His first impression upon seeing Metroplex was that he was huge. But apparently, the titan had purposely been making himself smaller so he could talk to Blaster and the cassettes comfotably.

Tracks felt... Really small... And more than a bit dizzy.

Tracks woke up to the sound of Blaster's voice.

"And it's not like it would kill him to say thank you every once in a while! He's lucky I don't saddle him with my work!"

"I thought you-"

"That! Was one time. And it was completely deserved." There was a bout of snickering, all small and giggly. Presumably from the cassettes.

Tracks was content to lie there and listen to whatever story Blaster was telling, but he felt his subspace pocket click open. That was... More than unusual. Tracks waited a moment before clicking his subspace shut.

Nothing changed for some time.

"Hey, where's Rewind?"

"Maybe he fell off!" Tracks could not name any of the cassettes, but it was clearly one of their little voices shouting in excitment.

"He did not fall off!" Blaster responded in a semi-scolding tone. "Did he?" There was a pause as Tracks heard the group shuffle away from where he was laying.

"Ya see that speck?"

"Eject! Rewind did not... Hm" Tracks finally onlined his optics and sat up. The noise alerted Blaster who turned around to face him. "Tracks! Welcome back to the world of the functioning!"

"What happened?"

"Oh. Uh, nothing." Blaster glanced at his cassettes, the group coming up one member short.

"Rewind died." The lion deadpanned.

"Rewind did not die!" Blaster said in the most exasperated 'creator' tone that Tracks had ever heard.

It was at this point that Tracks got an unusal ping from his subspace systems. The pocket fell open and out tumbled... Rewind?

"Rewind!" Blaster immediately scolded. "What have I told you about sneaking around other people's subspace!"

"To not to?"

"Exactly." Blaster turned to Tracks. "I'm sorry about that. He's sorry about that, but he's gonna tell us both that he was 'just looking'"

"Oh, that's alright. But- If I may ask; Where are we?" Tracks had been meaning to ask, because not only where they ridiculously high up, they were also moving"

"Ah, yeah. Plexi's walking us back to base!" Tracks felt uneasy. His tanks were churning.

"Oh." Tracks tried to focus on the hand he was sitting on for the rest of the walk.

From when Tracks woke up to when they arrived at the Autobot base was not very long at all. Metroplex set the bots down on the ground. Blaster almost immediately started dragging Tracks inside.

"C'mon! I gotta introduce you to the Big O!"

[acmeoop]

See? I Can Do It Too! “House of Freakazoid” (1995)

[mecharust]

Starscream and his tiny gal pal who runs a very trustworthy and legitimate business

[crimsonrune]

Trade - Super Hounds (Reindog TF)

Last year when MultiVersus was the new hotness, my buddy Toon took a real shine to the game's de facto mascot (and only original character), Reindog. The result was a lot of doodles of the little dude, including these ones he did by my own request - in particular, transforming one of the fighters (Harley Quinn - my main!) and one of my hopeful fighters (Zatanna! A DC favorite of mine.) into Reindog's themselves. This is sure to change up the meta in a major way.

Posted using PostyBirb

[domono08]

And you all thought Duck was safe from this……..well, YOU THOUGHT WRONG!

Now time from Duck’s Toonsformation to become a Four Part Epic!

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

The rivalry between wb!reader and Tim is basically just “I waited three and a half years, white man did I in one week.” And it’s very funny to me

I LOVE THE DR UMAR REFERENCE BUT IT SO TRUE THOUGH

In the beginning, the reader hated and envied Tim to a sickly amount. The two of you are pretty similar in likes and dislikes and weird interests; it's just that he's popular and you're not. You're actively tweaking. Like, what do you mean he was at the top of his class, did acrobatics, while still being friends with both nerds and jocks? Life is just not fair. You're fuming with jealousy; you want to see him fail so badly. You're looking like the Reverse Flash, praying for his downfall each night. And what makes it even worse is he refuses to admit he's a loser and a weirdo. He collects Transformers in his spare time, and he will never admit you're trying to bond with him over your love of manga and shounen. He just calls Naruto corny like he wasn't a NaruSasu shipper at one point. He'll never admit he's like you, but Tim is also a little jealous of you. He'd rather die than admit it. But how you're so unapologetically yourself is refreshing. You’re so passionate and excited about things; you show off your stacks of Bleach katanas you've collected over the years. You're you, and he's so scared to be him. He's weird, but he'd rather it be surface-level than your weird, even though deep down, his freak cannot be matched.

So, when you come to him yapping about D&D, he doesn't know how to feel. He's been hiding that part of himself for so long; it's scary for it to pop out. So he pretends like he doesn't know or care, when he does, and it's eating away at him like a mouse chewing on drywall. So when he gets obsessed, he's on you like crazy. You think this is a bloody rivalry that will end with somebody dead on the floor bleeding out while the other stands victorious; but in Tim's eyes, he's spending time with his sweet younger sibling who loves shounen manga. The reader is having a mid-life crisis, not being able to make actual friends that aren't surface-level and trying to make people remember their names, while Tim is picking out little Vocaloid keychains, wondering which one you like. You're gatekeeping games from him and niches, but he'll find out easily. You can't even watch Yo-kai Watch with him, reciting the entire wiki. You hate him so much, and he really wants you to like him. He'd cut off all his friends if it meant hanging out with you and being a good big brother.

"Look, [Name], there's a new Invincible comic out; let's read it together!" Who the fuck snitched on you and told him you like Invincible? Can't have shit in this house!

[jarpadandjensens]

SPN 1.10 | Asylum

Jared Padalecki featured in a page of the July 06 edition of Men's Health shown in the last gif.

Article:

He went from string bean to star. Supernatural? No, just big weights and big shakes.

Jared Padalecki was a skinny kid when he landed a role on Gilmore Girls. Now, at 25, he's the star of his own WB series, Supernatural, and has the body of a leading man. His transformation began after a 4-inch growth spurt, to his current 6'4''. "Suddenly I really needed to add muscle mass," he says. He packed on 35 pounds of muscle while staying lean. He credits Scot Mendelson, a two-time world bench-press champion who guides Padalecki through short but intense workouts and encouraged him to snack on 600-calorie protein shakes.

Pack on plates to pack on size: Mendelson goes old school on guys like Padalecki: Get strong to get big. "The heavier weights you use, the more muscle fibers you'll activate, leading to greater growth," he says. Research shows that for experienced lifters, muscle fibers grow the most when you use weights that are 80 to 95 percent of the amount you can lift once. Beginners, go lighter: You'll gain the most strength at 60 percent of your best effort.

[frostfangalphabitch]

The rest of the base has gone to sleep, but you don't sleep anymore. You don't join them in the mess hall anymore, either. You barely eat organic food at all these days, and when you do, it's mainly for pleasure. You can take the organics out of the pilot, but you can't take the love of sweets and pizza out of the organics, you guess. Despite that, you're so far removed from your humanity that it's gotten difficult to relate to most of them. It's not like anyone else is sharing your meals of titanium and copper.

The other pilots look at you with fear and disgust, knowing their inevitable fates if they're ever pitted against you. The mechanics see you as an oddity, a fascination, and heap praise and adoration upon you, but it's hollow in your eyes. It feels more like they're ogling a rare car rather than talking to a pilot. The corps see you as nothing more than a weapon to be pointed at their enemies, or whoever has less money than them that week.

The only person who still respects you as an autonomous individual is your handler. You adore her just as she loves you. Certainly, you're still a weapon - that's what the relationship started as after all - but you think she might be the only human in the base, including the mechanics, who could truly love a weapon of any kind. She's been so good to you through all of this, taking each stage of your radical transformation in stride as naturally as a lover watching her partner go through a more mundane transition. She's only gotten more attracted to you as you've grown into your new form and become more comfortable and confident with yourself. You'd burn the whole world down just to make her happy.

There's one other who respects you for who you are, though: your girl. Your beloved Wolfrun Mk.X, heart of Coral, veins of electricity, and arms of 5 ton power-guzzling metal-shredding AC-devouring WB-0010 Double Trouble carnage. Before all this started, you always thought of her like a weapon, just as the others see you now. Then she started changing you. The Coral in your augments connected with the Coral in her systems, and something changed in both of you. At first, it was just a whisper. Something brushing over your psyche, speaking just on the edge of hearing, incomprehensible but unmistakable.

Then your body started following suit. Your teeth, jaw, and digestive tract were the first things to change, presumably to allow you to consume and digest - you're not even sure if that's the correct term - the materials your girl needed to keep changing you. After your first meal, the tastiest 20 pounds of scrap you've ever eaten, your skin started changing too. The docs couldn't give you injections anymore. Their needles bent or broke when they tried to push them into your skin. You figured out why a few weeks later when what was left of your epidermis sloughed off and revealed armored plating underneath. They had to take an angle grinder to your arm in order to access your veins. You didn't feel any pain when they did. At the time, you thought that should have disturbed you a lot more than it did.

By that point, you'd been noticing Wolfrun's thoughts coming in a little clearer. In transit to your jobs, it was feelings of curiosity, probing, and wonder. In combat, it was a spark in your vision when you needed to dodge, a wordless warning about approaching enemies. In the base... still nothing but a whisper. That's when you started feeling lonely: when you couldn't feel her presence anymore.

As you became more and more monstrous, more and more like her, you began to visit her night after night. Maybe it was because you sensed an intelligence within her 65 ton body, or maybe it was simply because being near her drowned out the silence. You had no way of verifying this, but you felt like she relaxed as well when you were around. She was shut down in the hangar, of course, and there was no way any part of her could still be engaged, or so you thought. But as time went on, the whispers got louder, the words - feelings and thoughts, really - more comprehensible. And all the while, your body changed.

The 5'6" chubby trans gal who went into debt and subsequently under the knife to get a hand-me-down set of 4th gen augments all those years ago is long gone now. The thing you've become, whose claws clanged against the metal of the hangar's floor, had long since cast off that form. Where once was skin had become plated metal. Despite having no screws or rivets to speak of, it stayed firmly in place no matter how much the techs tried to pry it off. The augments which before had stuck partially out of the left side of your skull had seamlessly integrated themselves into the sleek plating that had cropped up on your head, looking far more natural than they ever had before. Your hair had fallen away, and the metal around your skull became angled and sleek, looking more bulwark than biological and with aerodynamic fins sprouting from it.

A sleek black plate had formed where your eyes once were. The day you woke up with that, you thought you had gone blind. You panicked, begging for help, afraid they wouldn't ever let you pilot her again. You had been moved into your new warehouse home at that point, and it took time for the maintenance techs to find you. Before they did, though, you felt someone - your girl, you realized - beckoning to you. She could help you. When the techs finally got there, you begged them to put you in her cockpit. It took them a while to figure out who you meant by "her", but your handler, who had come running the moment she heard the news, was on top of it. She barked at them to get you to Wolfrun, and with great difficulty, the three of them helped you get your then-8 foot form into her. You spent the next week inside her cockpit, refusing to get out except to eat and drink. She was there with you, and she let you see through her eyes. The world as she saw it was far more vivid than human eyes could ever see, infrared, ultraviolet, gamma, magnetic, smells, sounds, vibrations, on top of the visual spectrum you were used to. And when the delicate sensor plate where your eyes once were finally engaged at the end of that week, that's how you saw the world, too.

When you finally left her cockpit, you realized you could still hear her. From then on, she was with you always. That made you happy. It made her happy, too. You started letting her choose her own parts, and she was happy to. She still insisted you choose some too, though, since according to her, it was your body just as much as it was hers. True enough, whatever force was altering your body changed you to match her. When you tried out digitigrade legs, you stumbled getting out of bed the next morning after yours had reconfigured themselves to match. When you got her bulky, high capacity arms, your arms - fully synthetic by then - had bulked up considerably.

Even cosmetic changes started to affect you. You painted menacing, sharp teeth onto her head over the sensor plate with mechanical precision, and you found your own mouth elongating and becoming more of a muzzle as a result. You'd have thought being so malleable would have unsettled you, but you found you were more excited about the possibilities instead. It felt more like becoming who you were meant to be. Besides, it made wolfing down your metal meals easier. You figure intention, either yours or hers, or both, affected how you changed, but no one else had any satisfactory explanation for any of this. You'd stopped caring long ago in any case.

What you and Wolfrun ended up settling on for her, after earning a mountain of COAM for you and your handler with your unbeatable, utterly synchronized performance, was a mid-lightweight build focused on tearing apart the battlefield as quickly as possible with heavy machinery. What you became in response was anything but lightweight, at least compared to the humans around you. The finned bulwark and the black sensor on your head never really changed, but the rest of you seemed plenty mutable. Your arms grew long and powerful, your shoulders tipped with decorative spires. Your waist grew slender, tapering inorganically in nested panels to allow for plenty of articulation. Your torso got wider, too, though for whatever reason, the outline of breasts remained constant on your new chassis. You kept the digitigrade legs. Over time, hydraulic supports seemed to have formed on yours. The snout stayed, too. You were too proud of that paint job to ever take it off even with the changes to your own body. BECAUSE of the changes. You might be more machine than woman at this point, by you're still you, pride and all.

The techs estimate that only about 5% of your body is still organic. Probably most of your brain and maybe some other systems, plus a few symmetrical patches of skin. They suspect that you had either some kind of sympathetic Coral connection to your AC that rearranged your augments and allowed the changes to start, or that somehow repair nanites adapted to your form and began "fixing" you. In any case, they think the bulk of your changes are done with at this point. You're a little disappointed by that. Wolfrun likes the new you, though. She's happy for your connection and to be able to get even closer to you. Your handler appreciates your new form just as much. She doesn't even bat an eyelid when you tell her that you've been talking to Wolfrun. If anything, she seems a little sad that she can't talk to her directly. As for your relationship with your handler, you might be nearly twice her height, standing at a hulking 10 feet tall, but that doesn't stop her from loving you, or from jamming her fingers lovingly between your legs after missions.

But she's sleeping now. It's late, but you're still lonely. There's only one entity up at this time of night you'd care to talk to, so you climb the catwalks to meet her, claws clanging against the metal of the hangar. You smile your toothy, metal smile as she greets you, opening her cockpit so you can crawl inside and be one with her for a few more hours before your next mission.