#jeegoo

[bitegore]

WIP ask; dysfunctional bulkhead fuck yeah please and thank you

This one spawned out of a conversation I had with @honestlyvan, resident Bulkhead understander and one of the friends I have the absolute most fun bouncing ideas off of because for real I have never met someone who is so good at yes-anding ideas until they turn from a one-off line into something really cool. If I remember right, we were talking about Bulkhead's very visible delineation between "people I care about" and "potential targets," since Bulkhead is pretty clearly kind of... like...

ah, continued under the cut because this got long. A lot of discussion about Bulkhead characterization and then some very light details about the fic, because I did that thing where you have a general point but no actual outline and you run out of plot super fast because you never had much to begin with.

Okay so let's take a very brief detour through the land of psychology. Empathy runs on the idea of an "in-group" and an "out-group". The in-group is where you feel strong empathy, the out-group is not. This is what empathy is for, largely; it makes you feel bad for the people around you when they're hurting so that you don't start killing your buddies. Nothing wrong with that. The trouble is where this in-group ends. And for Bulkhead, at least as far as I see him, his in-group stops right at the end of Team Prime. Miko is in, Jack is in, Raf is in, Fowler is in eventually, and Wheeljack his old friend is in. And that's it. Everyone else could drop dead and Bulkhead wouldn't shed a tear. Why should he care? They're not his people, he's not invested in them. If they die that's their problem. He's got better things to worry about.

He's also an ex-member of the Autobot Warcrime Squad, the Wreckers. The "get in, kill everyone, get out, try not to die" team. He and Wheeljack are the only ex-Wreckers still standing, which is pretty damn impressive because even outside of IDW it's still a team with pretty high turnover (see: Marvel).

Anyway none of that gels too well with the way Bulkhead gets written in fic, which is to be a nice soft sweet kind of guy a la Animated. Which is fine, all the more for you guys, but I just find it painfully boring. There's a reason I don't read Animated fic unless my friends have written it and asked me to.

So on the face of it I basically just wanted to write Bulkhead kicking ass and not even bothering to take names because who gives a shit. Not him. He's got better things to do, people to give a crap about. Don't die here and he'll remember you to kill you harder later, maybe, but unless you're annoying or matter to someone who matters to him he just sort of doesn't give half a crap about who you are. He is just going to put you in the fucking ground. Bye.

in practice that is not what I did.

In practice I wrote a couple hundred words of internal monologue and went "oh, fuck, hang on", because guess what I did? Smartest boy ever, best writer in the world. I forgot to come up with a plot.

So then it crashed headlong into my obsession with the Combaticons and I had some vague idea of pulling the FoC Combaticons in for Bulkhead to just lay brutal waste to without waiting around to care too much about who they were. I thought about having him go fight one of the Insecticons but decided against it because I don't know them well off the top of my head and I didn't want to make a whole oc up so I'd probably be working with Hardshell, who doesn't work as an enemy for "named and therefore not someone I can just kill off" reasons. I'd established that it was during the whole "hunting down the Iaconian Relic macguffins" arc(s), so it didn't make sense to me for me to pull in characters that die before that or make significant appearances after, and there's really not that many that just show up and vanish without a trace. So okay I needed a new set.

Trouble is I've never played Fall of Cybertron.

So then I was like "ooh, I'll watch a playthrough". And then I did not do that. You understand how it goes.

Anyway, as a result the fic has been languishing ever since, but because it's so goddamn short i'm just going to copy paste the entire thing down here for your perusal. Enjoy.

Things were different back when the Wreckers were still running together and no one was really running with them. Much as Team Prime was small, it wasn't a hyper-specialized unit designed for getting in and getting out and getting slag done and nothing else. Totally different internal culture. Sometimes Bulkhead didn't really know what to do with it. And the humans- anything weird about Team Prime was weirded ten times harder by the humans. They were small, and fragile, and they didn't seem to realize it at all, constantly putting themselves beyond their stress tolerances for no good reason. Miko kept wandering straight into battlefields like she'd forgotten guns existed, and Bulkhead had to admit she was better at evading fire than he'd first expected but the other two humans definitely didn't have her reflexes and they kept on following her and needing the Autobots to get the three of them out of trouble. These things were so much more convenient when he and Jackie and Seaspray and Springer and the rest were all just doing what they did. They were good at that. Team Prime was pretty damn effective, sure, but they weren't half as good as getting in and getting out and laying out everything in their path, the way the Wreckers had been. At least Wheeljack was here. If he needed to blow up a metric fuckton (thank you, Miko, love that expression) of Vehicons, Jackie was always good for it. Aw, whatever. Jackie was off doing whatever it was he was doing- wherever the action was, that was for sure- and Team Prime was on one of their completely weird and inexplicable little backwards jaunts again. Recon, digging old weapons and scrap up out of the ground to keep them out of the Decepticons' hands. It'd've been nice if the boss would've let them use the really cool ones, but for the most part Optimus Prime had a very firm "no powerful game-changing strategies" policy.

#red replies #jeegoo #wip ask game

[sroloc--elbisivni]

Character opinion bingo; Raphael (TMNT)?

TURTLES. going with Rise (2018) version because that's the one I've seen most of. i love him, is the thing, i love him so much, he's big and full of affection and overprotective and has this potential to be angry and he tries SO HARD, ALL THE TIME, HE TRIES. he's also appointed himself chief cat herder of this circus he runs around with which by god is that a thankless job. also he's so fucking astute even if he's not good with making plans, he GETS stuff. magic weapon magic weapon magic weapon! like if i had to trust any of these four terrible teenagers to get something done without haring off on their own thing. i would trust raph. also his brothers use him like a jungle gym and it's so good. more raph always.

eta because i can’t believe i forgot—i am a SUCKER for an insecure leader. hits Blorbo Button in my brain hard. god i love raph.

#talky talk #ask game #ask meme #turtles #jeegoo

[archie-sunshine]

oh yea i also designed knightformers bulkhead for @jeegoo on stream last night n forgot to post.

absolute unit, in awe at the size of this lad.

#transformers #my art #my requests #knightformers #bulkhead #tfa

[dracoqueen22]

For @jeegoo : RE8: Village, Lady Dimitrescu/Ethan Winters okay so her mutation involves growth and that can mean bottom growth right? so she fucks Ethan with her massive girlcock and Ethan is less screaming/dying and more moaning/squirming and shockingly durable for a filthy manwhore uwu femdom, noncon plz

The manthing is more durable than Alcina expected. 

Certainly he’s more durable than any other manthing that has snuck into her castle. Those greedy creatures with their lustful glances at her daughters, eager to stick their meat into unwilling flesh. All men are pigs, she thinks, but especially human men. 

They are quite delicious once Alcina’s had her fun. Once she’s used them to bits, divided their fleshy parts for the beasts, and left the sweet blood nectar for her daughters. It’s their only redeeming quality, she believes. Entertainment and food. 

But this one. 

This Ethan Winters is nothing like the others. She thinks she’ll use him quickly, and leave him as food for her daughters, but he doesn’t whimper and cry for mercy like the others. His face is a rictus of agony, tears from his eyes, his body is mottled with bruises, but spend spatters his belly, and his cock is yet full again, eager for more pleasure. 

Eager for what she gives him. 

Ethan won’t come if she calls for him. He won’t undress without the use of force, until Alcina stopped allowing him clothes altogether. She’s had a collar fashioned for him, courtesy of that imbecile Heisenberg, if only because Ethan’s more entertaining alive than dead. 

He never parts his legs willingly. He never begs her for release. His cock is too small to offer Alcina any pleasure, though his mouth works well enough with the proper incentive. He chokes and coughs and makes vague noises of protest, but when the fight's gone out, oh, his mouth is useful indeed. 

But it’s the way he writhes on her cock that Alcina enjoys the most. 

Alcina doesn’t often bother to grow out her flesh into this shape. Her cunt and her clit are far more pleasurable, and she has no envy for manthings and their dangly bits. However, there are times a manthing needs to be taught certain lessons, and so she indulges. Briefly. For entertainment before she distributes their remains to whomever would enjoy it most. 

Ethan, however. 

It had been curiosity. She’d grown tired of smothering him beneath her cunt, had been bored by the lackluster efforts of his tongue as he grew less energetic. It’s an odd thing, how he survives though she doesn’t feed or water him. Some inner fire keeps him burning, and Alcina is absolutely fascinated by it. How long will he last, she wonders after he’s collapsed post-use, an unconscious heap of beating-heart and raspy breathing, who wakes the next day with renewed demands for freedom and his daughter and blah-blah-blah. 

The muzzle was a particularly wonderful investment, but she sometimes has use of Ethan’s mouth, so she usually removes it when it’s time to play. 

He’s an irritating, disobedient mess when she’s trying to make use of his mouth. Often not worth the effort. She had every intention of draining his blood and throwing his flesh to the wolves. Let Heisenberg’s mangy things have a treat for once. 

On a whim, Alcina threw Ethan on his belly and speared him with her cock. At least then she wouldn’t have to look at his face. 

But oh! The way he goes limp, the way he shakes all over, the way he squirms – all thoughts of killing Ethan flew away. He’s so deliciously hot and tight around her cock. He makes beautifully pathetic noises, and his pleasure is of the helpless kind. Begging her to stop while his cock spurts and his hole tightens and he pants, smelling deeply of pained lust. 

It’s exquisite. 

“Be still,” Alcina tells him, but Ethan helplessly cannot. Whether she takes him on his belly or on his back, whether she sits him astride her and pulls him onto her cock, he writhes and chokes and gasps. She doesn’t even need to touch his flesh for him to spill. 

He’s quite contrary about cleaning up after himself, the useless manthing. It takes some convincing to get his mouth to work and clean her of his mess. As if she wants his sticky semen to dry tacky on her skin. Ugh. 

Manthings make so much mess. She doesn’t know how Mother Miranda tolerates them, she truly doesn’t. They have so little use. Even Ethan, who should be exhausted and limp most of the time, still tries to escape, still tries to fight back. 

It’s a curious willpower. 

Alcina breaks him and bruises him and fucks him, and yet he claws back to himself every time. A most durable toy. 

Even now, Alcina has him speared on her cock, pushed as deep as she can, until there’s a little bulge in his belly. He’s pale and shaky, but his little cock is flush and heavy. His thighs stretch wide over hers, trembling from the effort. He would sag backward, if not for her grip on the leash, tethering his throat to her fingers. 

“Move your hips,” she tells him, leaning one elbow on the arm of her chair as she watches through slitted eyes. One finger drags up and down his leg, drawing little curls of blood to sweeten the air. “You’re boring me.” 

“Fuck you,” Ethan rasps, chin dipping, head hanging. His eyes are ringed with exhaustion. This is their third session today. 

He’s most delightful when he doesn’t have the energy to speak or move, when he lolls about like a little rag doll for her to use.

“My,” Alcina purrs, “Such obscene language. You manthings truly have no manners.” 

Ethan growls at her, his hands pulling into useless fists where they lay bound above his abdomen. “I’m going to kill you slowly.” 

Alcina draws another droplet of blood and touches her fingernail to her tongue, tasting the rich fluid once more. “Empty threats,” she purrs and reels him a little closer with the leash. 

Ethan chokes, shifting and tightening on her cock, and a shock of pleasure radiates up her spine. His cock dribbles, his hips moving into tight circles, his protests at odds with the wants of his body. 

Oh, yes. Ethan Winters is a delightful toy indeed. 

Alcina can’t wait to see how much he’ll endure. 

***

#flash fiction fill #draco writes #re8 village fanfic #dimitrescu/ethan winters #tw noncon #tw dark content #dead dove do not eat

[theraptorcage]

I love learning about birds from you guys.

#happyebooks #fuckyeahkatnep #darkmoonweaver #jeegoo

[plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows]

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

lmfao someday i will get to australia, but maaaaaaaaaaan it will be sometime during the winter XDD wanna see all ur oldass rocks!

#i was so tempted to say the cook islands or smth lol #but it must be said that u guys have some geological marvels #jeegoo

[spacegate]

top ten internet cats?

1. LIL BUB! good job bub! @bublog​

2. KEYBOARD CAT

3. SHIRONEKO

4. WILFRED WARRIOR

5. MARU!!!

6. POKI!!! (trigger warning for cat injuries at the beginning)

7. THE SURI NOEL FAMILY (They have english cc subtitles)

8.ARTYOM[KOMRADE KAT]

9.  COLE AND MARMALADE

10. NALA CAT (and fam!)

#jeegoo

[transfemstarscream]

Leave Jeegoo alone, you insufferable drama leech. Do you just go onto every Optimus and Starscream post looking for people to bitch about? Good lord you're annoying.

hello spam anon. how are you this morning?

[bitegore]

💙

an au I made up and never wrote: (okay listen i've written one story set in there but it only pays basic lip service to the idea and basically nothing else. trust me. it counts its fine)

okay! this is "humanformers", but actually it's androids in disguise featuring "everyone is a pretender now" and "we only transform a little bit". i'm debating adding a magical girl element where they jump and spin and out come GIANT FUCKOFF CANNONS and MAGIC ARMOR. (all my beloved friends and followers who know more about magical girl anime than me can boo and hiss as they see fit about that but you can't tell me Megatron jumping into the air and getting a chainmail armor cape and metal stompy boots and his giant gun and a scale armor skirt wouldn't go hard. i do not believe you it would be very cool and also sexy)

We start out from the POV of our FAVORITE HUMAN SIDEKICK (FHS for short, because they don't have a name), meeting a very weird stranger. This stranger is SOUNDWAVE, walking computer bank and wireless hacking donglebrain extraordinaire. He is also Extraordinarily Fucking Weird.

Soundwave: Hello. Take me to your satellite dish array.

FSH, just a random person: ??????? bro r u lost?????? what the fuck

Soundwave: [pulls out a gun] Hello. Take me to your satellite dish array.

FSH: ?????????????????????

Soundwave: Hurry Up.

FSH: i don't Have a satellite dish array. I don't even have cable.

Soundwave, faceblind: So you mean you are not Secretary Of Defense of the United States Namey Namename?

FSH, trying to activate "emergency call" inside their coat pocket because they're pretty sure (correctly) Soundwave is a domestic terrorist: Uh. No. I work at a Target.

Emergency services: "This is 911, what is your emergency?"

Soundwave, hearing of a bat: Stranger. Hang up immediately.

FSH, not hanging up immediately: uhuh yup hanging up immediately. please don't shoot me. did you hear that, i said you have a gun, please do not shoot me, i am hanging up the phone now, aren't we lucky that they can't trace a call to a location, ha, ha, ha, ha

Soundwave: why are you speaking so loudly

FSH: idk sometimes people do that when they're stressed. please stop pointing a gun at me unless you're going to mug me or something

Soundwave: Why should I want to mug you.

FSH: ........for money? I mean, not that I-

Soundwave: Rest assured that if I wanted to have more money there are more efficient ways for me to get it than taking the wallets of strangers.

FSH: ....that is actually strangely reassuring but you are still pointing the gun at me. can i go home.

Soundwave: you are Certain that you are not Namey Namename of the Department of Defense. Give me your ID.

FSH: IS this a mugging?

Soundwave: no. now give me your wallet.

anyway after this happens Soundwave eventually is frightened off by the sirens, FSH speaks to the Authorities, and one Authority Cop Pig is like. hm. i am going to take you for further questioning off the record

and FSH goes OH SHIT WHERES MY LAWYER

and Pig Rude Officer Why-are-you-doing-this Loser (shortened PROWL) is like "you do not need a lawyer, this is off the record". FSH who knows their rights is like "NO NO NO i DEFINITELY need a lawyer wtf is this shit" and Prowl is like. Um. Please do not involve any more outsiders this is a domestic terrorism thing. FSH goes "I AM NOT A TERRORIST" loud enough to attract the attention of Bad Asshole Rude R-... fuck it i cant do this again. Barricade. Who is also there. Prowl and Barricade are both aware there's someone from either team in the building but they do not know who it is. You don't either. You're like "HEY. HELLO. HI. I NEED A LAWYER"

barricade, who barely believes in due process and thinks lawyers are for losers who dont believe in police brutality, makes eye contact with Prowl and pointedly walks away.

asshole.

Prowl eventually finally gets FSH to chill out by offering to bring in an attorney. He calls Jazz, who is not at all an attorney. FSH is convinced by his fake business card and is like "yeah this weird guy pointed a gun at me on the street and wanted to know if i was Namelike Namesomething from the Department of Homeland Security or something like that, i don't know."

"You mean Namey Namename?" says Prowl, who knows everyone in the entire upper government and has files on all of them. "You do look remarkably similar." He is also faceblind as fuck because i think it's funny to make all the data analysis people struggle to differentiate between faces irl.

Jazz, about 2.5 seconds to look them up later: Prowl bro what the fuck are you talking about no they do not

FSH, a genius: ....your.... name is Prowl? What kind of name is that?

Prowl: Nickname.

Jazz: Nickname.

FSH: weird nickname. what are you, like, supposed to be batman or something?

Prowl: ......I like cats. What did Soundwave want?

FSH: ???soundwave???

Prowl: .....code...name. codename.

FSH: is that the guy i ran into???

Prowl: yes obviously keep up.

FSH: uh. a sattellite array? or something

Prowl and Jazz, in unison: OH NO, NOT THE SATELLITE ARRAY!!!

now we never see FSH again because their role in the story is OVER AND DONE. instead we have Prowl and Jazz fuck off out of the station really fast. Barricade, whomst we all know is a decepticon, is like "hm. suspicious behavior. better call my boss" and he calls Soundwave. He sends Soundwave their pictures. Soundwave, faceblind, is like "these resemble every single autobot and also everyone at your job. let me send them off to buzzsaw for analysis"

buzzsaw has wings. no one questions this because buzzsaw also has the emo fringe haircut and wears a silly looking jacket and as such looks at all times like he's trying to cosplay an anime character. he does this on purpose because it entertains him. buzzsaw is also really good at recognizing faces

"oh shit" says buzzsaw "thems autobots"

ANYWAY i havent got much past that but essentially the bots and cons are on earth, HAVE been on earth, and are in a race to the bottom for magical crystals (energon. legit just energon) that they use to power themselves and their augmentations. They're in a secret shadow war, and the government is not aware they exist but constantly trying to catch them because it's obvious something is up, they're just incompetents. multiple characters have removable boobs. drag strip cannot buy groceries without committing murder (written here, the only thing ive ever actually done in this au outside of draw vortex irritating motormaster on purpose once). thank you for listening to my ted talk now i need to turn off my computer and turn it back on again lmao

#red replies #jeegoo #au ive never written game

[sroloc--elbisivni]

Ship Bingo; Jazz/Optimus

listen. loyal knight vibes? impeccable. also the two bastards energy. i just want to see them cause mayhem and i don't particularly care in what configuration, but the only ship scenario i have on the brain for them is an offshoot of the warlord bang fic where jazz is sold off to a warlord he doesn't realize is a DIFFERENT one than the one who got his friend last year and is planning on assassination until some things get explained and OP implies he would be a bad spouse, and then he has to prove him wrong of course (jazz, after getting married: not evil anymore i want to be loved. jazz, after seeing his friend who didn't even bother sending a letter to say he was alive: evil again) i get too distracted by shenanigans to look for romance.

#talky talk #ask game #ask meme #jeegoo #is this transformers

[darklordofcutlets]

IDW Thundercracker?

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

He’s pretty hot, especially when Guido Guidi draws him. Dem legs and dat waist! I won’t say he’s my fave, but looking at him is always pleasant.

#jeegoo

[dracoqueen22]

Tarn finally, FINALLY getting his hands on Optimus as Optimus is Megatron's true obsession and Tarn taking advantage of that. (★ ω ★)

What extraordinary luck. 

Optimus Prime. Alone. Ripe for the taking, and take Tarn had.

A few well-placed shots from the Peaceful Tyranny had taken out both engines, and it had been a simple matter to scoop the single-occupant ship into the cargo bay. Optimus Prime had, of course, emerged ready to fight, but one Optimus Prime was no match for the full might of the Decepticon Justice Division. 

Centuries of seeking this mech and here he had wandered into their path without a care in the universe. Truly, Primus was on Tarn’s side. 

“The war is over, Tarn,” Optimus Prime growled, and even kneeling before Tarn, arms cuffed behind his back, energon dribbling from a few opportune blows, disarmed and beaten, he tried to be a voice of authority. “I am Optimus Prime no longer.” 

Tarn lifted a hand, and Kaon placed the datapad into it. “This informs me otherwise,” he said, gesturing with the datapad. 

Every scrap of information the Decepticons had on Optimus Prime had been fed into this datapad. Kaon had painstakingly matched every detail to what Soundwave had accumulated. There was no doubt in Tarn’s mind, this was Optimus Prime. 

He could call himself whatever he liked, but he was Optimus Prime. 

“Can we kill him now?” Tesarus asked, his left hand bearing down on the Prime’s shoulder, the spinning blades of his grinder quietly whirring as they cycled into readiness. 

Helex’s cauldron bubbled, waves of heat emanating around him as his right hand clenched, crumpling the armor of the Prime’s other shoulder. “I get the scraps, right?” 

The air was ripe with their combined glee. 

“Gentlemechs,” Tarn purred, hitting the right frequency to make Optimus Prime shudder, to make his engine squeal a distressed pitch before Tarn dialed it back. “Let’s not be too hasty. We have an extraordinary opportunity here, do we not?” 

“We only get to kill him once,” Kaon agreed. He all but vibrated beside Tarn, little arcs of electricity passing between his coils. 

Vos said nothing, but he stared at Optimus Prime, and sometimes, a stare without words could be unsettling enough. He stroked the edges of his faceplate, and stared at Optimus Prime, one finger teasing beneath the edge. 

“You can kill him when I am done with him,” Tarn said. 

His own spark quivered with excitement. He hardly knew where to begin. Optimus Prime would die, oh yes, but Tarn had spent decades dreaming of this very moment. Truly, the Prime’s only competition would be Starscream or that traitor Deadlock. 

“Megatron is dead, Tarn,” Optimus Prime said, as though such a lie might save him. “There is no need for this.” 

Tarn chuckled. “Lord Megatron is not dead, because Lord Megatron cannot die. He will rise again, I can assure you.” He stepped closer to the bound Prime and grasped Optimus’ chin, tilting his head up. 

He rather enjoyed being able to look down on Optimus Prime. 

This mech who had so captivated Lord Megatron, who had defied Lord Megatron time and time again, who did not deserve to occupy so much of Lord Megatron’s processor, and yet did so anyway. This was where he belonged, at the feet of Lord Megatron’s most loyal Decepticons. 

“The Decepticon Cause lives and will always live, and you are the single greatest threat to our glory,” Tarn said before he curled his claws in the edges of the Prime’s battle mask and yanked. 

It tore free, crumpling in his grip, and Tarn looked down at the pathetic piece of metal. A souvenir, perhaps. Proof he could present to Lord Megatron that his foe and distraction had been disposed of, and Cybertron -- no, the universe -- was now his for the taking. 

The Prime jerked, letting slip the tiniest of grunts. Of course, it would take much, much more than a little pain to get Lord Megatron’s rival to react. 

Tarn scraped at the torn edges of the Prime’s mask-mount with the tip of his claw. “We are going to have so much fun,” he purred, perfectly tuned to send Optimus’ spark into spasms of distress. 

There wouldn’t be much left of Optimus Prime in the end. 

Perhaps then Lord Megatron would finally see the Prime for the useless, pathetic scrap of a mech he was. 

***

a/n: And this is the /SFW/ version of what I initially had planned. *coughs*

#flash fiction fills #raw unedited fic #the Decepticon Justice Division #Tarn #Optimus Prime #Transformers #Transformers fanfic #sfw text #jeegoo

[blackberreh-art]

Please tell me all the things about Autoclave. I love her.

Autoclave is oooold. Old and cranky and was one of the best medics to have grazed cybertron. 

A senator wanted her, she said no, and she was punished and empurated 😔

She’s honestly a right bitch and isnt nice to anyone and honestly, mood.

#berreh speaks #jeegoo

[leggystarscream]

Skywarp. The things you two would do with legos.

Let’s be honest. Skywarp would be the worst influence ever, and if that relationship went south, it would be the WORST breakup ever.

That said, Jee? Watch your step :B

#ask leggy #jeegoo