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writing-ro · 2 years

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TF Rarepairing Fest Day 5: Falling Leaves

Not much to say for this prompt, it's short, sweet, and I just love the idea that OP goes to Griffin Rock to relax, so of course he'd bring June with him if they're dating. Enjoy!

Rarepair: June Darby/Optimus Prime

Also on: [AO3] [FFN]

~~~

June had never really experiences a “postcard perfect” fall.

Growing up in Nevada, the temperatures didn’t really lend themselves to leaves slowly changing to vibrant reds, yellows and oranges before falling to the ground. And when visiting family out of state, it was always either summer and the trees were green and lush, or it was Thanksgiving or Christmas and the leaves had already fallen off.

So, when Optimus suggested a picnic date on Griffin Rock, June had to fight to maintain composure. Once they had crossed the groundbridge, made their pleasantries to the Burns and the Rescue Bots, and headed out onto the forest, however, she was grinning as widely as Raf had when the Bots had taken the kids to an Arctic snow day.

Once far enough from town to avoid detection, Optimus transformed and the pair walked among the trees, June taking delight in the snap and crunch of them under her feet, and even dancing through a shower of leaves when a gust of wind knocked them down.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Optimus said after she had done that, smiling his sweet smile at her.

“I’ve always loved fall, or at least the idea of it.” She tilted her head back to look up at him, a hand at the back of her head to keep her hat on. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to properly experience it, and it’s better than I’d dreamed.”

“Then no matter what else happens today, I accomplished my goal.” He knelt down and reached for her, brushing his curled knuckles against her side. “All I want is to make you happy, June.”

June leaned against his digits, nuzzling against the top one. “You do, Optimus. Very much so.” She beckoned him to lean down, and pecked a kiss to his lip plates when he was close enough. “There is no place I’d rather be, nor anyone I’d rather be with, than right here with you.”

“I feel the same.” Optimus returned the kiss the best he could, then stood up. “Come, it’s not much further.”

They had their picnic on a lovely outlook with a gorgeous view of the island and the ocean, only heading down when the sun started to sink to the horizon. As they made their way down the mountain, however, they heard some loud noises and, after sharing a look, went to investigate.

What they found was the Rescue Bots and the Burns in a clearing, with the largest leaf pile June had ever seen. It went up almost to Optimus’s waist, and as they approached, Blades dropped more on top, while the bottom was shaped a bit by Bolder before they turned back to their root modes.

“Optimus Prime, sir!” Heatwave said, giving a salute that Optimus quickly dismissed. “And Ms. June.” He nodded to where she was sitting on Optimus’s shoulder.

“What are you all up to?” she asked, looking around.

“Cody told us it’s human tradition to jump into piles of fallen leaves,” Chase explained. “So we gathered all the raked leaves on Griffin Rock to make our own.”

“Except the piles still in yards,” Blades added. “We made sure to leave those alone.”

“I think you mean ‘leaf’ those alone,” Graham said, laughing while Kade groaned at the pun.

“We made a human sized pile too, so we can jump together,” Cody said, pointing to a much smaller, though still large, pile that was off to the side. “You wanna join us?”

“I’m not sure if we should…” Optimus glanced at June for her response.

“I’ll do it if you will.” She leaned in to whisper into his audial. “And if you do it, I’ll scrub away all the leaf dirt once we’re home.”

Optimus managed to keep his engine rev quiet, but June could feel his plating warm under her. “Alright. I will join you.” He set June on the ground and joined the Rescue Bots at their pile, while June joined the Burns family, linking hands with Cody and Dani.

“On the count of ‘jump’,” Charlie said. “One. Two. Three. Jump!”

The explosion of leaves could be seen from town, though luckily the peals of joyful laughter didn’t carry quite so far.

#2022TFRarePairingFest #Transformers #Transformers Prime #Optimus Prime #June Darby #June Darby/Optimus Prime #char: june darby #char: optimus prime #ship: june darby/optimus prime #fandom: transformers #fandom: Transformers Prime

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tarklesbehindthescenes · 2 years

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The robot equivalent of Shadow the Hedgehog and a blue bot with a red sports car fetish

Pairing: Side Burn/Ultra Magnus

Continuity: Robots in Disguise 2001

Prompt: Horror

AO3

Side Burn leaned into Ultra Magnus’ side, optics wide and alert as he stared at the TV screen in front of them. On said screen, he had put on a well-known horror flick. ‘The Ring’ if Magnus recalled the title correctly. Something about a human girl and a cursed video tape. Side Burn said that humans swore that it was a great horror experience and that he wanted to watch it, but only if Magnus would watch it with him.

The rogue didn’t really get it, but didn’t put up much of a resistance to the idea. Though now that he was watching the film, he found himself regretting the decision. Not because it was scary. But because it was utterly boring. Humans found this sort of thing frightening? The little girl wasn’t frightening in the least. She needed shorter hair; its length was ridiculous. The death scenes weren’t that scary. And this movie was based around a series of bad decisions the main characters made. Why was it so hard not to make smart decisions? Like, why did they keep watching the death video? Why didn’t they just take the tape and destroy it? Why did they make a copy if it kills people?!

“These protagonists are stupid,” Ultra Magnus griped.

Side Burn turned his head to gape up at him, pausing the movie as he did. “Really?”

“What do you mean, ‘really’? If you were in their position, would you actually watch the video and make a copy of it for study?” the taller mech inquired.

“No, never in a million years!” the blue bot yelped. “I’d chuck that thing as far out to sea as I could!”

Magnus nodded. “See, that’s because you’re smart. These humans aren’t.”

Side Burn blinked at him, then smiled. “You think I’m smart? Aw, thanks, Mags!”

The larger mech shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “I’m just stating the truth. Take it how you will. How much longer does this go on for?”

“Uhhh, I think we’re a little over halfway,” the smaller mech answered. “Why?”

“I might get in a nap, then,” Magnus decided.

Side Burn stared at him incredulously. “You’re not scared at all??” he gaped.

“No. This isn’t scary in the slightest. It might have some creepy moments, but those moments are brief.”

“Wow, Mags, you’re one brave spark! I’m barely holding myself together here!” Side Burn exclaimed. “Hey, I know! Maybe if you held me, some of that bravery of yours would leak into me. Worth a try, right?”

The rogue frowned at him with utter confusion, wondering how Side Burn even remotely jumped to that conclusion. “That’s not at all how that works.”

Side Burn pouted slightly and persisted. “Aw, come on. It can’t hurt your ego to try, can it?”

Ultra Magnus heaved a sigh and caved. “Fine, fine. I don’t get how it’ll help, but fine.” He proceeded to wrap one arm around the youngest Autobot brother and held him close. “Happy?”

The smaller mech nuzzled further into Magnus’ side before replying, “Yes. Much better. Now I can take on the rest of what this movie has to throw at us.” He then paused and added with a hint of a nervous tone, “I hope.” He then unpaused the movie and went quiet again.

Ultra Magnus didn’t bother with paying attention to the movie anymore. He simply let his head loll to the side and shut his optics, setting himself up for a short nap like he promised. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but having Side Burn pressed up against him made him feel more relaxed, which made it easier for him to wind down and eventually pass out. No, he would never admit that to anyone. …But he would try to subtly set this type of scenario up again. Once in a while.

#Transformers #RiD01 #Robots in Disguise 2001 #Side Burn #Ultra Magnus #maccadam #2022TFRarePairingFest #AO3

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pale-fairytales · 2 years

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Bad Weather || TF rarepair fest!

"Don'cha ever wanna leave the lab, big guy?"

Skyfire supposes he should have expected the question, given how long he's been in this lab now. He blinks, staring at the meteorological map the program had put together before him, at the silhouette of the clouds laden with what he could only assume was snow drifting steadily over their area of operation.

"No," he wistfully answers, dragging the screen to look at other, less affected areas. He hears his tiny partner give a soft sigh. "It's more comfortable here."

"Aw, c'mon, Sky. You're in here a lot. Don't you ever want to see the outside of a lab?" Jazz looks up at him with a pout on his plush, soft dermae, and Skyfire knows he is pouting by the sound of his voice, and he smiles, but he does not look at him. He can't tear his gaze from the sonar, at the raging storm incoming. No escape. It's likely they would all be snowed in—Decepticons, too. No fighting, today, because the war is cruel, and sometimes, it's necessary to embrace the cold. Skyfire can only be grateful that he is not out there. Not again. Not like last time.

"It's familiar. You're welcome to stay in here and chat with me while I work on some—passion projects." He glances at the Martini Porsche, who pouts up at him still, and Skyfire can't help but grow a bittersweet smile, because his old friend once used to pout like that, the same friend that had, somehow, linked the two of them. Jazz, ever the fervent one, steps closer, attempting to peek up, at the sonar.

"What're ya lookin' at?" He asks. And Skyfire knows he is not as well versed in science as he is, but bless his little spark for being interested. He smiles softly, still, at the second in command.

"Well, I'm working on an old project from my academy days. It might help us, given the energon shortage, but–" Skyfire sighs softly. "Starscream might have the rest of the recipe. So I'm refining it. But none of my experiments appear to be helping me complete the puzzle."

Jazz looks up again, more into his face. The shuttle can feel a two-tap against his leg—their agreed upon signal for the Martini Porsche to be lifted up. He leans down, and gently picks the younger bot up.

"You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, and Skyfire has to smile at him, still, because it has never done him good not to do so. "I know you were torn up, after that last fight."

Skyfire can feel his smile falter.

"He was my best friend." The word 'was' stings so unexpectedly hard. "I never wanted things to end the way they did."

"Aw, Sky." Jazz is so gentle when he gently rubs the apex of Skyfire's knuckle, on his digit, before he is rested on Skyfire's shoulder. "It isn't your fault, you know."

Isn't it? Sky feels the need to ask. I am the one who got himself frozen.

"I wanted to do right by him. But I couldn't keep him safe." Skyfire tries to abate the swell and ache of his spark as he reminisces the past, how things used to be, should've been, would've always been if this stupid war never broke out. "And then—"

The meteorological map switches. The light flickers. The storm is right upon them. He can practically hear the freezing winds, and he shudders.

"You good?" Jazz asks, and Skyfire doesn't answer initially. He swears it's too cold in there. He swears his HUD flashes again. He swears he can still feel his body locking up. "'s gonna be okay, Sky."

"I wasn't trying to get frozen," Sky softly says, unable to ignore his spark's hurt. "I didn't mean to leave him to get hurt." And he means this. And Jazz knows he means this, even though Sky's faceplates are stolid and his optics are glossy and focused on something or other. Jazz presses a gentle servo into the side of his faceplate, "I promised him." I promised to always follow.

"It ain't your fault, Sky." Jazz softly says to him, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his helm, and both of them know, logically, words alone can't fix this. His friendship is dissolved, disintegrated, for what? A stupid war. A stupid war that took too many things from Starscream. That made problems that Skyfire knows, realistically, he cannot fix on his own, though he is desperate to do so. "Sometimes friendships jus' fall apart."

"But I didn't want this one to fall apart," Sky can't help but find himself saying, in the softest voice, because on the monitor, on the many cameras, he can see the snowfall, the flurries of white, and it brings him back to that blizzard, and all at once, he can't help but want to cry. To comm Star and tell him how sorry he was. To tell him he made a mistake. "We were supposed to become Cybertron's finest scientists together."

"I know, Sky," Jazz murmurs to the shuttle, leaning against him, softly peppering his faceplates and helm in kisses, as if to tell him that it's okay. Because Jazz knows he can never take away that hurt. "I know, baby."

Sky never did understand that term of endearment. But he's never questioned it, because Jazz never questioned him, Jazz always respected his feelings, because Jazz knows how to protect a secret, and Skyfire knows that feelings are better kept put to the side, a secret within a secret. He turns his helm, and presses a soft kiss in response to Jazz's helm.

"I apologize. I'm not a fan of the cold weather. It makes me...nostalgic." he rumbles, keeping his gaze on Jazz, because sometimes he is the perfect distraction, and sometimes Jazz is so comforting, and sometimes he feels far too self indulgent not to look at his pretty partner. Jazz was not trusting of him at first—understandably, no one was—but here he is, now. Able to, willing to, happy to tell him things would be okay, and to pepper his face in kisses. The thought alone is enough to keep him warm.

"Don'cha worry 'bout it," Jazz hums a musical note, one he can immediately recognize as the one Jazz makes when he is content. Skyfire smiles his shy, goofy smile, unable to stop himself from kissing again. "Given the ordeal ya went through, I don't blame ya."

"Thank you." And Skyfire means it when he says that. "I love you."

"Feelin' romantic today, big guy?" Jazz laughs his musical laugh, the one that can make any and all mechs and femmes fall to their knees for. "You're so cute. Love ya too, Sky."

It's been a long time since bad weather didn't make Skyfire nervous. But he doesn't mind or even notice it, now. He presses a soft kiss against Jazz's dermae, soft and gentle and loving, like satin, if only to let Jazz know that he was always safe with him, regardless of bad weather or being cold. Jazz reciprocates eagerly.

Bad weather isn't always so bad, Skyfire reckons. You just need the right person to keep you warm.

#2022tfrarepairingfest #Skyfire #Jazz #SkyJazz #rarepair #sobs into my hands #I missed like 4 days bc i was too sad/busy to write #maccadam #this is so late :(#just watch i'm gonna end up spam posting w/ a bunch of unfinished drabbles for rare pairs lmao

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lagoona-blu · 2 years

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TF Rarepair Week 2022

Day 1: Hot Drink

Pairing: TFP Bulkhead/Wheeljack

Hi everyone, Raye here! I'm so excited to be partaking in my first big Transformers writing challenge! Sorry I'm posting this on the last day of the challenge. I've been working on polishing my stories and I meant to post them all together tonight and then got dragged on a last minute vacation. I'll post the rest of them once I get home, I'm so excited to share them!

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

At least Optimus hadn't sent them to the Arctic.

That thought motivated Bulkhead as he trudged on through the thick snow, hearing the crunch under his large pedes. He fought back a shiver as the icy wind bit at his green and silver frame. The big bot reassured himself that the payoff of this mission was worth freezing his aft off for. The Autobots had recently discovered that nestled deep within the copper-rich landscape of Michigan's upper peninsula lay an enormous vein of energon. Running critically low on resources, they'd sent Bulkhead and Wheeljack to gather as much energon as they possibly could.

And speaking of Wheeljack…

"If Prime wants this so badly, then why didn't he come and get it himself?" the Wrecker grumbled, shaking a light coating of snow off his frame. Bulkhead could tell his sweetspark was cold and miserable, though he was powerless to remedy either issue. Wheeljack despised being ordered around by authority figures (even if said bot was someone as good-natured as Optimus Prime), and spending most of his time aboard his ship meant that Wheeljack was unaccustomed to below freezing temperatures.

"He's probably just busy running the base," Bulkhead reasoned, hoping the answer would satisfy his partner. "Besides, last time Optimus went somewhere cold he almost didn't come back." The green bot shuddered at the memory of the day the entire Autobot faction had almost met its demise. Arcee refused to be sent on any mission in a cooler climate, clearly still shaken up by the incident, and Optimus tended to avoid them whenever possible. As for Bulkhead, while his physical wounds from the scraplet attack had healed, the mental scars would forever remain.

Bulkhead shook the negative thoughts from his processor. He couldn't get distracted from the task at servo, not when they were oh-so close to finally reaching the energon deposit. Once this miserable mission was over, the green Autobot and his partner could return to the base in warm, sunny Nevada. They'd spend the rest of the cycle cuddled up in berth together, mostly silent except for the occasional complement of their sweetspark's hard work on such a harsh mission. And maybe, just maybe in their warm and cozy states, Bulkhead could convince his beloved to stay with the Autobots for good.

Realizing that Wheeljack had fallen behind, Bulkhead paused for a moment to let his partner catch up. He couldn't help but notice the intense shivers that wracked the Wrecker's frame. "We should almost be there, Jackie," the green bot promised with a sympathetic smile. As if on cue, the small energon sensor that Bulkhead carried began to beep wildly. The pair had finally reached their destination.

"About fragging time," came Wheeljack's breathy chuckle. Bulkhead couldn't help but smile at his partner's response. Even in the cold of winter, the Wrecker's laugh filled him with warmth. The Autobot took a few steps forward, letting his servo transform into a wrecking ball. Optimus had given the pair strict orders to not destroy any natural copper deposits, seeing as it was a valuable resource to humans. As such, Wheeljack was barred from using his grenades to just blow a hole in the surrounding area.

However, the Wrecker never played by the rules, something Bulkhead knew all too well.

Realizing he wouldn't be able to split the ground deep enough with just his wrecking ball, Bulkhead let his servo return to normal. They'd have to use a grenade to reach the energon, there was no other viable option. As long as Optimus didn't decide to investigate the site later on, the pair would be fine. And if the two bots were able to gather up all the energon themselves, not missing a single crystal, there wouldn't even be a reason for the last of the Primes to visit the location.

"Hey Jackie, toss me a grenade, will ya?"

Silence. That was odd.

"Look, I won't tell Optimus, promise."

Nothing. No grenade tossed in the green Autobot's general direction.

"C'mon Wheeljack, stop messin' around."

Still no reply. Bulkhead began to grow worried. Why wasn't his partner responding to him?

"...Jackie?"

The Autobot turned around just in time to see his partner collapse face down into the snow. Energon be damned, saving his sweetspark was more important right now.

"Jackie!" Bulkhead gasped, blue optics wide as he practically ran through the thick snow. He carefully scooped up the Wrecker in his arms, holding him close. Wheeljack's frame was cold to the touch, and even in his unconscious state he violently shivered. If he didn't warm up soon, he risked severe damage to his internal systems. They had to get out of the freezing cold as soon as possible or Wheeljack stood no chance of surviving this mission.

With shaking digits Bulkhead activated his comm link. "Ratchet, we need a bridge, now! It's an emergency!" he shouted, trying to keep his rising fear from bleeding into his tone. Almost immediately a groundbridge appeared before the two bots. The Autobot medic didn't waste any time when a life was in danger. Bulkhead stood up, still carrying the unresponsive Wheeljack in his arms, and raced into the portal as fast as his legs could carry him. He prayed to Primus there was still time left to save the Wrecker, and that today wouldn't be the day that Bulkhead lost his true love.

Wheeljack was offline for more than two hours.

Upon reentering the Autobot base, the Wrecker had been laid out on a medical berth for Ratchet to examine. The medic had made the quick assessment that nothing was seriously wrong with Wheeljack, much to the relief of Team Prime. He'd concluded that Wheeljack was simply not used to below-freezing temperatures and his internal systems were overwhelmed trying to stave off the cold. Ratchet had placed a thick thermal sheet over the Wrecker in an effort to raise the bot's temperature and speed up his recovery. However, even with the thermal covering and the heat of the Nevada desert his frame still trembled with a faint shiver.

For the entirety of those nerve-racking two hours Bulkhead sat on the edge of the medical berth, holding his sweetspark's servo. When blue light finally flickered in Wheeljack's optics, Bulkhead let out a loud sigh of relief. He helped the Wrecker slowly sit up, earning a groggy groan from the mech in question. Before he even knew what was happening an apology began to spill from the green Autobot's intake. "Jackie, I'm so so sorry," he rambled, "I knew you wouldn't handle the cold well and I still asked you to come with me on the mission. You suffered because I just wanted to spend time with you. I'm so-"

Bulkhead was immediately silenced by Wheeljack grabbing his helm and pulling him into a kiss. All at once the green Autobot's guilt melted away, leaving him with a warm, relaxed feeling in his spark. It was clear from the gentle aura of Wheeljack's EM field that he wasn't mad at his sweetspark. Instinctively Bulkhead wrapped an arm around his lover, and in response the Wrecker leaned into his side. He was glad for the fact the children were currently in school, or Miko would never let him live down this tender moment. With their frames so closely pressed together, the Autobot could still feel Wheeljack's slight shiver, and an idea popped into Bulkhead's processor.

Bulkhead placed a quick kiss atop Wheeljack's helm before suddenly standing up and walking off deeper into the base. The Wrecker watched in silent curiosity, waiting to see what exactly the Autobot was planning. When Bulkhead returned just a few minutes later, he was carrying a large tray with two piping hot cubes of energon. Wheeljack couldn't help but smile at his sweetspark's thoughtful gesture. Under the tough exterior, the Autobot had always been a softie with a big spark.

"Figured you could use something to warm you up," Bulkhead said, sitting back down on the medical berth. He carefully handed one of the cubes to Wheeljack before taking the second for himself. The pair sat in comfortable silence, casually sipping their drinks and just enjoying each other's company. The Wrecker could slowly feel his frame warming up at last, aided by the hot energon as well as his close proximity to his partner. Once he'd finished refueling, Wheeljack carelessly tossed the cube aside, watching it skitter across the medbay. He made a mental note to pick it up before Ratchet returned to the area, knowing the medic would throw a fit otherwise.

Bulkhead was the one to finally break the silence. He opened his intake to apologize, but shook his helm. Wheeljack had made it clear that the Autobot wasn't to blame for the incident and didn't want him to feel remorseful about their disastrous mission. After a deep invent, he tried again. "Optimus said he'll return for the energon later," Bulkhead said, his optics trained on the cube of said resource, "Doesn't want you going back out there and offlining again. Ratchet agrees." Once more he resisted the urge to apologize for dragging Wheeljack into the ice and snow.

Wheeljack let out a hum of understanding, feeling too tired to give a proper response. Even after being unconscious for two hours the Wrecker was exhausted. Now that he was finally warm, largely thanks to the hot energon Bulkhead had generously prepared, he could feel himself drifting towards a proper recharge. He leaned with his whole weight against Bulkhead once more, listening to the beat of his spark. He could fall into recharge right here, right now…

"Want the rest of mine, Jackie?" Bulkhead asked, snapping the Wrecker out of his sleepy state. He nodded, swiping the still-warm cube out of his sweetspark's servos and guzzling down the hot energon in one go. The Autobot chuckled at his lover's enthusiastic response, watching as the Wrecker chucked the now-empty cube to the floor. Truth be told, Wheeljack couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper refueling. He only ever recharged or refueled when it was absolutely necessary for his survival. He'd lost track of just how many times both Ratchet and Bulkhead had lectured him on his unhealthy habits.

Bulkhead felt Wheeljack's shivering dissipate, the warm energon doing the trick. After watching Wheeljack finish the second cube, the green Autobot could tell that his sweetspark was just a few kliks away from falling into recharge. He pulled the Wrecker in closer, placing another soft kiss on the top of his helm. "Love ya, Bulk," Wheeljack murmured, voice already edged with recharge. "Love you too, Jackie," Bulkhead replied, to which the Wrecker promptly offlined his blue optics. Here, deep in the deserts of Nevada, Wheeljack was warm, safe, and well taken care of. Most importantly, however, he was loved.

Maybe being a member of Team Prime wouldn't be such a bad thing after all...

#2022TFRarePairingFest #Transformers Prime #TFP #TFP Bulkhead #TFP Wheeljack #TFP Bulkhead x Wheeljack #Transformers #maccadam

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dramamelon · 2 years

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TF Rare Pairing Fest 2022: Huh, Small World Prompt 3: Date Night | Staying Home Pairing: Bluestreak/Streetwise Characters (overall): Mixmaster, Onslaught, references to Vortex, Bluestreak, Streetwise, Drift, Rodimus, Hot Spot, Prowl, First Aid Rating: T Tags for Prompt: Alternate Universe, Minimal Editing, Slow Romance, Family Drama, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Melodrama Summary: Wherein lives lived on a Cybertron without the civil war (though wars still exist) meet and entwine in unexpected ways. A connected collection. Chapter Summary: The family reunion is not a particularly happy one. Melodrama in my fic? Always! 🤣

#2022TFRarePairingFest #maccadam #bluestreak/streetwise #bluestreak #streetwise #prowl #hot spot #first aid #melodramatic family interaction

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tfrarepairing · 2 years

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It's Day 3 of Rare Pairing Fest, the Transformers Fandom's all fanworks accepted, all ratings accepted fall rare pair festival!

Your October 18 prompts are:

Date Night

Staying Home

#2022TFRarePairingFest #maccadam #rare pairing fest #tf rare pairing fest #tf rare pairing

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williamtrasheater · 2 years

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Day 12 of tf rare pairing fest!

Grr today’s piece is REALLY sketchy because I had no time :-(( (I did but I procrastinated lol)

Silas is sharing his happy moment with fowler who is not impressed to say the least

The prompt was grave robbing to I guess this kinda applies? At least that’s what came to my mind

#procreate #transformers prime #tfp #tfp fanart #digital art #silas tfp #transformers #agent fowler #2022tfrarepairingfest #transformers breakdown #tfp breakdown #agent fowler x silas #fowlshop

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decepticannibal · 2 years

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October 16: Hot Drink // Leftovers

ive never drawn blurr before <33

#cannibal.me #2022tfrarepairfest #optimus prime #blurr #transformers animated #post canon blurr with welding scars my beloved #optiblurr #?#blurrop #2022tfrarepairingfest

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pluralsword · 2 years

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Mutuality/Sapphism

Also found at: [AO3]

Spacewarp/Perihelion, pg-13

With the hundreds of diplomats, sages, leaders, scouts, scientists, filework nerds, and errant warriors around to choose from in Lodestar's hull's big meeting hall to share our thoughts through embraces, there was one I hadn't been able to get out of my head all evening since she walked up to a podium and started talking several hours ago, now deep in some sort of playful parlay over a multiversal alliance community…

The heavy, sturdy steps of her bulky winged firetruck frame. the excited or bemused faceplate ruffling as they talked pleasantries, the sword at her side, the large open gestures towards people, the casual touch with people she knew, the hands over their spark. Vivacious, not afraid to level words of reproach when someone tried to dig at her diplomatic stance. I was affixed on their words when I looked away, barely processing the details, but hearing her bravery. I knew it was their diplomacy face and voice, but she also clearly spoke from profound belief about the autonomy of sapient entities and their communities cohabitating with the cosmos, transforming together.

God damn, I couldn't remember the last time someone like a woman had this brain module melting effect on me, and that I had admitted it to myself. I was used to feeling cool and flourishing with pizazz. What's my name? Oh right, Spacewarp. I had been so level-headed with Chromia, our cuddling and kisses left me with a thoughtful rush, but Perihelion...

Wowza, totally different equally enjoyable reaction. I love the multiverse.

Perihelion stepped away from Nautica who is also a cutie with her diplomacy special interest cryptid altertransformer shtick and those round turbine fins aw bolts, and the other delegates of their seven-fold group and strode towards me, waving.

My body tensed up immediately and I urged it to relax and loosen, and I almost fell over in the process. Wait she's coming towards me, what do I do be cool uh uh "Hi mighty sweetspark, what can I do for you?" I offered hands to clasp. What the scrap was that Spacewarp!?! My head filled with heat, and I tried to keep the embarassment out of my optics. “I um, lets start over.”

They laughed merrily, and met my hands with hers, and then inched their fingers over to hold mine briefly before letting go. I was totally flummoxed that she had taken my awful line or my apology so well. Was it awful? It was ironic I guess, whatever you do don't stare at the wheels on the sides of their thighs-

"Hey, Spacewarp, I was really impressed by your speech railing against imperial adventurism and disavowing the Decepticons on that basis. I've heard a lot about you from Flamewar and Grimlock about your cosmic kindness and wisdom, can we talk? I want to get to know you better, see if you'd be interested in helping the Mystibots, and uh-" she stopped for a moment, wheels on their wings whirring.

My brain module fired off a flurry of thoughts: she knows two of my fling pals, they wants me to do something with her faction, she wants to get to know me, scrap where is this going-

My wings teetered up and down. "Um, you were saying-"

"To explore mutual interests, sweetspark. I presume that's why your optics have been locked on me for several astro-cycles every time you look over where I happen to be before you look away and try to engage somewhere else. I'm quite flattered that the eloquent and known gallant rogue Spacewarp has been given pause by me. Am I presuming too much? I'm sorry-"

I guffawed. "No no, it's okay, you got it," I reached out to her hands and gave them a squeeze. "I'd like that. Sit with me a while, and then maybe a dance?" My mind finally started to get a grip. Common ground, thank Primus. "Let's start with why me?"

"Heh," they sat down in the chair next to me at the round table, and I joined her. "For the job? Already said. Me and you?" the pink and cyan biolight lines on her torso sides and forearms of her lavender frame brightened with a pulse. "Because I think you're sweet, because you have an honesty to you, because I think about how our big frames would complement each other holding one another... this is why I want to know you more, I need more than that. Your turn, what got you into me?"

"Ah, I get that," I laughed, confidence flowing a bit more at their compliments until my brain got stuck on the image of sitting in her arms, watching the stars, which left me excited and teaming with charge in my circuits. "Really do. You- you have this savvy, dedicated and passionate fire in you that I can only guess is why you have a Matrix of Leadership in your chest, you're a- new vocabulary for me" not sapphic, remember she's on a totally different aesthetic framework than your trans enby aft, "swordwielding trans torqdare mutuality is just a mood and a vibe all at once, I really like that. Something to do with liking people I can trust to watch my afterburner, but also it's my terminal sapphic brain, you get me?"

"I definitely do, 'sapphic brain'," she chuckled, and I snorted at their joke. "Maybe Sapphicwarp would be a good nickname... if I understand what you mean by your vocabulary, you've certainly picked up on how to talk about my aesthetic hearth." She put her hand over the middle of their chest, and leaving me a bit in awe at her easy flow over her love for that. "I'm a mutuality kind of dare myself, as you say. Your, aesthetic is-"

"I'm a sapphic nonbinary gal, on the masculine-spectrum side of things, your honor, and that's a lovely name," I nodded. "And um, what would you like to know about me? What I do, what I like, you've already heard much, I gather."

"Well, Sapphicwarp," Perihelion leaned on her hand while looking at me, and I felt like I was going to melt again from her words and gaze. "I guess what I want to know besides your love for reading, history, geography, music, languages, what do you do for fun when you're not traveling or in deep space between places? Besides sharing family time with your minibot pals."

"Oh uh, some of what you said, listening to music, reading the loads of books we've got downloaded or letting Boom Tube read to me, write my logs, think about folks I love, catch up on the latest Robot City Stone episode, and there's this 22nd century human-made evolution game from cells to space I really like when I don't got spoons for anything else..."

"Aww, that's really cool," she leaned back in her chair. "I really like reading too, philosophy stuff, tabletop board game manuals and fan supplements. That game sounds really interesting... we have an equivalent back home that was a multispecies project from when I was young, would you like a copy? It's one of my favorites, especially the procedural comic panel visual novel portions-"

"Please, I'd love that," I reached out a hand, and they put theirs on mine. "I've been meaning to get into the visual novel genre because there's just so, so much sapphic stuff there from over the millennia, but just couldn't find a gateway one in with pacing and replayability to my liking."

"It's called Assemblage of Stars, it has co-op, if you'd like," she winked. "I'll get you one from my quarters later, thumb drive with my other stuff and mods, and also the OS it runs on."

"I think I'd like that," I mellowness flowered in me, their hand touching mine, her glorious path crossed with my own, my frame and circuits feeling overjoyed in their shape sharing this moment, and the predictable urge after brought itself to words in my mouth. "I um, I know we can chat more, about where we're from, what our boundaries are, but I'll lay them flat on the table to level with you and then ask if you'd like to dance. I like kissing, my faceplate does come off, and I'm happy to share touch with limbs, terms of endearment are fine, not big on derogatory talk, am okay with touch anywhere, I just um, don't have what most members of a lot of organic species have-"

"Pff don't worry darling, even if I was interested in sex I don't have parts or wiring for that either and don't want them on me," she nodded and gave my hand a pat, leaving me content with their attention there. "My faceplate doesn't come off, but I am happy to receive kisses or nuzzle heads, and yeah I don't like put downs either. I do like gestalt patching though, sharing minds, if you'd like to try someday."

"Hmm, I think after we talk more after our dance, that would be swell. Would you be okay with me smooching you while we sashay in tempo?" I sighed, circuits cool and graceful, bustling.

"Yes, yes I would, and I think talking more after letting our bodies get to know each other on the dance floor is a good idea," she stood, letting go of my hand to offer an elbow. "Would love to lock elbows on the way there, thinking the observatory deck, stuff is nice and slow there."

"Uh, sure, that does sound perfect," I got to my feet and wrapped my arm around hers, and we made our way through the hall, greeting people in passing who we knew on the way out, and took the nearest turbolift, leaning in the blue gray wall of the big square after pushing the button for the observatory deck.

We gazed at each other some more as the turbolift propelled towards our destination. I was awash with feelings about how adorable Perihelion was and had been the whole time, holding her peace and to my delight enjoying mine. I reached out to her other shoulder and then wrapped my arm around her head. "I have half a mind to nuzzle heads with you right now, if you want, Perihelion Prime."

They responded by leaning in, her head’s wave crested helm clonking their faceplate with my own, rubbing up and down, pressing her helm guards occasionally with my own. I did my best to reply in kind, embracing her, sensors soft and attuned to her in my faceplate and mouth underneath, and my frame close with hers.

Endearing, quiet moments, slow and steady, filling my mind with the time and love, brought to a stop by the turbolift doors opening in front of the domed observatory. We untangled from our hug and stepped out, holding hands, chuckling, into the starry windows with soft notes wafting through the dancing crowd from a band composed of an armored car Arcee with an electric mini-harp, a sports car Jazz with a cyber-bass, a racecar Hot Rod with a clarinet, and a bird-winged engine-legged Airazor singing wordlessly into a microphone.

“The stars are beautiful, both in the void beyond, and in the people here,” Perihelion hummed. “Like your own.”

“Aw, that’s a mighty fine complement for my spark, dear,” I looked into the constellations of the galactic arm around us, the hilly and light-speckled planet Caminus in view from our high orbit, which I eventually turned to fondly. “You can see the lights of one my favorite planetary community of polities in this universe. I love their take on the Way of Flame, how they embraced the ever-changing aspects of fire, the sense of home, story, and creation, and wary study of fire’s destructive power, that informs their gender systems’ structure and their society… like your hearth, of your own Caminus, no?” I looked over at Perihelion, and her faceplate ruffled with a nod.

“Yes, exactly that,” she slipped out of my hand to put her palms on the sides of my waist, facing me, and I keened quietly with excitement while she laughed. “My embrace of transformative momentum and rotational motion from force, with my carefully shaped heaviness in my frame and my sense of intrepidness and glory in being myself, does make my torqdareness and transness feel like a fire, a shining star. I adore it, and I like how people of this world use their own terms closer to yours for it. Since you have such a love for fire dear, shall we dance?”

“Please,” I put my hands on the sides of her mid-riff, my spark practically bursting from it’s casing, my mind pleased and focused on just Perihelion as they held me. “Something simple and close until the next song, then we can get a little more creative.”

“Mmm, agreed, Sapphicwarp, let’s start with some steps in a square,” Perihelion took a step forward, and I took a step back, and then to the side, which she copied, before taking the next step back, which I followed. Foot by foot, we made a square pattern, hands on our torsos, optics peering into each other’s. My metal frame may as well have softened, and her optics seemed to too, their green luminescence smaller as well, focused on me.

Step by step, we held each other’s torsos, in one another’s gravity. I loved every bit of it, and the quietness spoke volumes about our engagement in the rhythm and holding.

In the corner of my optic, the other three musicians in the band started to sing alongside Airazor, and the song came to a stop shortly after.

Perihelion and I hugged each other close, laughing. I was giddy across my fuselage. A simple thing, the dance we had done, but a nice dip further in mutual interest.

“Do you know the starflung dance?” Perihelion whispered in my audial.

“Maybe not yours, I know others by that name from other worlds,” I smiled under my faceplate, creasing the armor in front of my mouth. “Why don’t you show me when the next song starts?”

“Sure,” we held on a while longer, and then harp sounds came on, and she put one hand on one of my own, gently and firmly. “The idea is that I spin you around in step, and then let go of your waist to let you go into a further ‘orbit’, with you switching the hand that holds mine, and then you close back in and hold me, and do the same thing for me. Ready?”

“Sure,” I let my hand in her grip follow theirs up in front of us, and she started to turn, and I followed, a spinning stroll, note by note, until we came around in full, and she let go of my waist, and I stepped forward and away, letting go of their hand with my left to meet hers with my right, and we spun through several chords. I noticed some folk stop their dancing to watch us, and I gave a little nod and salute, firing my rocket thrusters for a little lift off the ground in the last part of the spin.

“Woohoo, yeah Spacewarp, you got it!” Perihelion cheered while keeping an iron grip on my hand, and I came back down to hold Perihelion close, nuzzling cheek guards again before stepping back and spinning her…

My senses alit and a twirl, I took in her few heavy steps before she took flight, almost pulling me up with them, and I followed her orbit as best as I could, quickly grabbing my faceplate to take it off as I saw them on her way down-

She embraced me under the wings, landing right along my torso, and I put an arm around her head and kissed her on the middle of their faceplate, nice and long.

Quiet cheers sounded around us, as my lips parted from her smooth sturdy faceplate, and she bonked my lips in return with lightness that showed practice, to my mind, the force of her head and neck available but held back. I let out a sigh, and kissed them again.

“Definitely want to get to know you after this, want to spin again, dear torqdare Perihelion?” I whispered.

“Yes, to both, dear Sapphicwarp…” Perihelion sniffed, and bright cyan droplets fell from her optics. “I think I know what that word really means now, it’s so pretty…”

“Aw- aw sweetie, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” I tried rubbing her wings, and they chuckled, still teary.

“It’s okay, it’s euphoria and passion- seeing you in me, though we are so different in other ways, there is a mutuality for sure,” she nuzzled my cheek with hers. “Maybe we could just stand here and kiss instead… I feel so amped up right now in all the right ways.”

“Then let’s do that,” I brought my face in to share more touches of armor and mouth, spark roaring inside me, turning their words over and liking them, my systems all warm and collected. Wowza, I think I love them and want to see if this lasts a while…

#spacewarp #perihelion #spacewarp/perihelion #kissing #fluff #trans #trans character #sapphic #sapphic character #xenogender #fanfic #robots #transformers #maccadam #2022TFRarePairingFest #pg-13 #butch4torq #t4t

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arceespinkgun · 2 years

Text

The TF Rare Pairing Fest 2022 has given me the motivation to create some more content for my favorite ships! I knew I wouldn’t be able to create a prompt fill for every day of the fest, but today’s prompt caused me to think of this StarShock plot bunny and I had to write it.

October 17: Feeling Groovy/Feeling Emotional

Summary: Shockwave struggles with emotion, but if Starscream’s emotional state is negatively impacting the Decepticon movement and no one else is searching for a solution, it is only logical for Shockwave to determine both the cause of the issue and a method to help. G1, 80′s cartoon ‘verse. AO3 link!

The Glow of Comfort

Every Decepticon knew of Starscream’s continual outbursts and attempts to overthrow Lord Megatron. There were memos about them at board meetings. Soundwave’s cassettes “memed” them in Decepticon group chats—though how exactly something could be considered a “meme” when it was only being circulated amongst a small selection of people, Shockwave did not understand. By this point in the War, everyone understood that Lord Megatron faced minimal risk due to Starscream’s behavior, and that these attempts even kept the Decepticon leader sharp.

What was actually a danger to the Decepticons and always resulted in a disruption to the faction’s productivity were Starscream’s depressive episodes. The quiet skulking throughout the halls of the Decepticons’ bases. The muttering in a low voice. The inexpressive stare from a face-plate normally so energetic. These times were when Starscream was at his most unpredictable and lethal. And in these moments, Starscream was far too careless—in contrast to his usual highly-honed sense of self-preservation—to be turned against the Autobots. Therefore, only the Decepticons suffered.

It was only logical to search for a solution to this issue, Shockwave concluded. Normally such a thing would not be one of his responsibilities, but he found himself disappointed in his fellow Decepticons’ handling of the situation. The other Seekers simply steered clear of their Commander when he was in this state of mind, and waited for the episodes to pass—but isolation appeared to make the state more severe. The rest of the High Command responded to Starscream by making derisive comments, and in true Decepticon fashion, responded to his retaliatory attacks with ones even more brutal. And then, there was of course Lord Megatron:

“No one can manage Starscream other than Starscream, Shockwave.” Megatron sounded completely confident in his statement, but then, did he not always project confidence? Sometimes, Shockwave envied Starscream’s ability to pick up on even the faintest weakness in their leader—but no, it was illogical to desire to perceive such a thing.

And Shockwave would never doubt Lord Megatron’s words. However, perhaps the disruption could be mitigated. Shockwave pored over the data he had collected via monitoring the times Starscream was in this state, and came to various conclusions. Generally speaking, he fell into this mindset after repeated defeats, and came out of it after decisive victories.

But there was another factor that Shockwave could not make sense of—it also appeared that Starscream would fall into an extended depressive episode at a predictable time every stellar cycle. This was the point at which it would become illogical to draw further conclusions from the limited amount of data. Shockwave instead turned to the Decepticon who observed more closely than any other—Soundwave.

“Shockwave: plans to cheer up Starscream?” Soundwave asked, when Shockwave presented him with this quandary.

“...If that is the most logical approach to improving the Decepticons’ productivity during his depressive episodes, yes,” Shockwave said. Oddly, Shockwave found himself wringing his hand and cannon together, as if he was being shamed or judged—but that was highly illogical, because Soundwave’s question and tone had not indicated judgement.

Soundwave was silent for a beat. “Soundwave: will enjoy recording Shockwave’s failure.” His visor lit up, and he beamed datatrax directly into Shockwave’s processor.

Shockwave soon analyzed the information and understood the cause—he knew what he must do, regardless of Soundwave’s assessment of the likelihood of success.

The time eventually came for Shockwave to hit the button on his console to make the call he had been planning for nearly a stellar cycle, and Starscream picked up right away. Shockwave felt a rush of emotion—he was used to making calls to Lord Megatron that went long-unheeded.

But on the monitor, Shockwave could only see Starscream's blazing red optics in the darkness of his quarters, which illuminated Starscream’s frame. It was barely visible, but Starscream was clearly contorted into an uncomfortable position. He said nothing, instead only making a high-pitched, incomprehensible vocalization.

“Commander Starscream,” Shockwave said, “I required your assistance in a matter of great scientific importance. I am in the process of modifying my hologram projector to project a beam that will disguise the locations of our energy-collecting pylons—”

“Don’t waste my time,” Starscream muttered. He did not move from his twisted position.

Shockwave simply stared.

Starscream’s optics narrowed. It was almost as if he had been searching for any emotional reaction in Shockwave he himself could react to, but finding nothing, he eventually continued: "You have all those other Seekers in the science division. The entire Cybertron Guard that answers to you.” His sneer was ironic, given that Shockwave remembered that Starscream himself had assigned those troops to Shockwave long ago.

“The female Autobots have become... more aggressive recently,” Shockwave could not completely keep fear from his voice. “Therefore, the Cybertron Guard is on patrol. Additionally, the complexity of this project requires someone with extensive scientific experience.”

“Extensive scientific experience? Yes, I do have that, don’t I?!” Starscream exclaimed. “Not that you’d know it from how that bucket-headed barbarian treats me! He thinks I can’t tell a phone from a bomb! And nobody else trusts me enough to even let me try doing science anymore! All the Decepticons are hypocrites, they don’t think I can be a warrior and remember my scientific career—” After engaging in a long rant that included several unoriginal, degrading names for Lord Megatron, Starscream stood up and came closer to the camera. “Of course I’ll help you, I’ll prove my worth to you and everyone!” he declared, before cutting the feed.

Shockwave stood guard outside the elevator until the doors parted and revealed Starscream, who immediately stepped forward and smacked the side of Shockwave’s head with a wing.

“Rude!” Shockwave snapped, shoving the wing away.

“Hands off,” Starscream hissed. “And it was your choice to stand there!” Based on his mood, Shockwave deduced there had been some altercation between Starscream and another Decepticon prior to Starscream’s use of the Space Bridge.

“I only have one hand....” Shockwave muttered. “Now, I’ll show you the way to my hologram—”

“I know where it is.”

Starscream did know where it was, and Shockwave followed him out of the lab and right up to it. “It looks the same,” Starscream said. “Where are the mods?”

“When I told you I was in the process of modifying it, I meant I am in the planning stage.” Shockwave handed Starscream a datapad displaying the blueprints, which Starscream had already been holding out a hand to take. Very efficient.

Starscream pinched and dragged the screen, looking at the models closely. “Well, since you haven’t gotten any of this done, I’m going to be here for a while. So when Mega-bum asks why I’m taking so long, it’s your job to disappoint him by telling him you led me to think I just needed to review your work.”

Shockwave’s ancient head model did not allow him to roll his optic, and for that he was grateful. The thought of Starscream witnessing how easily he frustrated him was somehow embarrassing.

Seeing Starscream work silently on Cybertron, under the stars, with the planet’s lights low to conserve precious energy, it became especially apparent how the Commander’s bright primary coloration made him unique among the other high-ranking officers. It was rare for Shockwave to think so abstractly.

“This is impossible, and you should know it!” Starscream declared, handing the datapad back. “Your projector’s going to melt from how hot it will be running when it’s struggling to hide all our pylons!”

Without thinking, Shockwave grasped the datapad tightly and pressed it to his side protectively. “It will only be sending its beam to disguise individual pylons when they are active, Starscream. With our limited energon supply—which you should be familiar with, since the Decepticons on Earth are in-charge of securing more energon—only one or two would be active at once!” Shockwave internally cursed himself for insulting the majority of the Decepticons. After all, Lord Megatron himself was also on Earth!

“It’s still going to be running too hot! Projecting a hologram your size is nothing compared to the one the size of even one pylon. These fans you’re planning to install aren’t enough. You’d need a system running coolant nearly as large as the projector itself.” He gestured to it for emphasis. “And how was I supposed to know you didn’t want it running all the time? Where are you installing a sensor or hookup that will tell it which pylons are online and where they are?”

Shockwave sighed. He was not quite certain why Cybertronians sighed in exasperation, but Starscream certainly pushed him to do so. “I am going to set it manually and input the coordinates.”

Starscream put his arms akimbo and laughed. “That defeats the purpose, doesn’t it, Shockwave? That gives your dreaded female Autobots plenty of time to see what’s going on before you activate the disguise—or even enough time for them to see you doing your old mech shuffle out of your lab and snipe you! I bet that Moonracer would jump at the chance.”

“We’ll install a sensor,” Shockwave said it in a low tone that made it sound like a threat. “But I do not ‘old mech shuffle.’”

The irritation quickly faded, to Shockwave’s relief, as they worked on the project mostly wordlessly. Other Decepticons often considered it a bad habit of Shockwave’s that he rarely spoke to his team in-person, and now he was beginning to realize it might be true. It was far easier to work with Starscream’s assistance. Shockwave’s thoughts distracted him, for it was only when Starscream was using his Null Ray to solder and the sparks lit up his face-plate, illuminating his lively smile, that Shockwave remembered his original aim—how fortunate that his mission appeared successful despite his distraction!

“Now, let’s see if it will hide my energy signature!” Starscream pressed a few buttons and activated the dual holographic-and-energy disguise. He vanished from sight.

Shockwave’s other sensors could only pick up the roar of Starscream activating his his jet heels, and then nothing. “Ah, the test was successful!” Shockwave exclaimed. “...Starscream?”

He was answered by being tapped on the power pack on his back. Shockwave’s antennae stood up and he whirled around and fired his cannon on instinct, the pulse shooting up into the starry sky.

The clang of Starscream’s heels against the ground alerted Shockwave to the fact he had landed. Chuckling, Starscream returned to the projector and dispelled the illusion. “What an excellent tool to use to get the drop on Megatron!”

“You will never use my holograms in order to attack Lord Megatron!” Shockwave yelled, jabbing a finger at Starscream angrily. “I would use my cannon to melt you down before you ever had the opportunity!”

“Not with your terrible aim, you wouldn’t.” Starscream smirked. He turned his head to look up into the sky, in the direction Shockwave had fired. “We should celebrate this accomplishment, Shockwave! I can’t believe earlier I felt...” he trailed off, his optics widening, his smirk falling. He fixed Shockwave with a scrutinizing, intense look. “Did you ask for my help to cheer me up? Did you know why I was... I mean, what had been bothering me?”

Shockwave froze. “It wouldn’t be logical to put such effort into cheering you up, Starscream,” he said hastily. “I may have recognized that your productivity and therefore the productivity of the Decepticons in general drops around this specific date, which means it was only logical for me to wish to help correct this state of affairs for the good of our movement—”

“I didn’t ask if it was logical, I want the real reason! Did you do this to cheer me up, yes or no?!” Starscream snapped.

“I...” Prevarication would be illogical. “...Yes, Starscream.”

Starscream’s brow furrowed. “You’re also answering ‘yes’ to my asking if you know what was on my mind.” It was a declaration, not a question.

Shockwave felt himself slump forward as if he were low on energon as he spoke. “When I noticed the correlation between your state of mind and this phase of the stellar cycle, I asked Soundwave if it was significant, and he knew. He also informed me my attempt would fail.”

Starscream’s optics flared a brighter red and he clenched his hands into tight, shaking fists. “That jerk...!”

Witnessing Starscream’s anger awakened anger in Shockwave’s own spark. It coursed through his circuits, overwhelming his processor. “And now that you know I asked Soundwave and he knew you experience a depressive episode because it is the anniversary of your ex-lab partner’s decision to join the Autobots, you'll have an emotional response and be upset and angry because you’ll feel this was invasive and your reaction will defeat the purpose of all my efforts,” he ranted, “and this is why it would have been far easier if you had never asked me about my intentions and it was pointless for me to tell you and emotions are unproductive even though I also know how it feels to have people who are important to me turn their backs on me—!"

Starscream regarded him with a long, level look, before surging forward—not to attack, but instead to pull Shockwave into a tight hug. “Thanks for the help, Shockster.”

“Oh.” Hearing Starscream use an unoriginal yet affectionate nickname for him caused Shockwave’s chest to light up bright pink.

“How warm!” Starscream felt the light touch his servos. “You really are an old model if your frame still lets off this much heat.”

“Shut up,” Shockwave murmured. He looked askance, feeling much emotion.

Somewhere, unbeknownst to the two of them, Laserbeak was perched atop a tall building and ceased streaming their interactions to a disappointed Soundwave and highly amused Megatron.

#2022tfrarepairingfest #Shockwave #starscream #StarShock #ShockStar #transformers g1 #maccadam #My writing

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