"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
JVL
if i look back, i am lost
Sade Olutola
🪼
Stranger Things
DEAR READER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Acquired Stardust
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@theartofmadeline
oozey mess
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Not today Justin
blake kathryn
titsay
taylor price
Claire Keane
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Kuwait
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
@astrallfang
Had changed my name into AstrallFang as i have this name since late 2023 close to 2024 and i actually like it also if anyone wonders i actually do draw but I deal with artblock and had before family drama plus living at my brother temporarily cause my mom divorced my step dad who was an narcissistic and made me deal eith stress, burnout and many other problems.
Also check out my medias! ^^
Welcome to my Carrd Media Check out my medias links! ^^
The time comes to translate my Planes fanfic. Hope you like it.
Warning: agnst, death, hetero relationship, ghosts, WW2 history, OCs.
"Returned from the other side"
Chapter 1. Farewell.
Dusty woke up to the loud ringing of his alarm clock, flinching in surprise and quickly switching it off. The firefighter took a few minutes to shake off the sweet drowsiness that was still pulling him back into sleep. It was 4 p.m.—time to inspect Propwash Junction and the surrounding area after his afternoon nap.
Dusty rolled out of his cozy hangar and looked up at the sky. It was covered in heavy dark gray, almost black clouds, and distant rumbles of thunder echoed from afar, soon to arrive in town along with a wall of rain. The plane was about to head to the runway, but suddenly, someone called out to him.
"Hey, Dusty," came Skipper’s voice as he appeared from behind Dottie’s workshop. "I know you've got a job to do, but mind if I fly with you?"
"No, sir!" Dusty answered briskly, mimicking military speech in response to his mentor. Although Skipper had spent most of his life in Propwash Junction, he had never abandoned the habits he'd developed during World War II: he spoke concisely and to the point, wasn't particularly eloquent, and every movement radiated precision, discipline, and a certain formidable grace. Ever since Dusty came into his life, the war veteran had become more approachable and down-to-earth, as if he had blossomed after years of emotional shutdown.
Following behind Skipper came Chug, Sparky, Dottie, and Chloe…
Oh right, I forgot to tell you about Chloe… Let me fix that.
Chloe is a small dark blue Cessna 180 Skywagon. Planes of her model have a large single wing mounted above the cockpit, and Chloe's is decorated with a large rose design. On the rear of her fuselage near the tail, there’s a painting of a pine forest at sunset. She’s less a plane and more a flying canvas—but strangely enough, Chloe loved art.
Now back to the events.
"Going for a little flight?" Dottie chimed in. "All right, we'll be waiting for you back at my shop—Dusty hasn't had a maintenance check in a while."
"Be careful," Chloe added with a soft smile, gently touching Skipper's fuselage with the tip of her wing.
"We’re not made of sugar, we won’t melt," the veteran smirked, following Dusty to the runway.
Dusty instinctively requested clearance for takeoff so he could take off alongside his mentor. Clearance granted. The propeller spun faster, the wheels lifted from the ground—and now the air held the plane aloft. Dusty hesitated briefly, waiting for Skipper. Within seconds, the hum of another engine grew louder and moved up beside the former crop-duster. In moments like this, Dusty recalled why the Corsair fighter was nicknamed the Whistling Death during the war. Though Skipper was built for battle and his appearance intimidated many, deep inside he was sensitive and compassionate. Everyone seemed to grow attached to him in a special way.
"I usually circle around Propwash Junction, the nearby forests, then a bit along the highway and to the bridge following the riverbed," Dusty informed, glancing to his left at his senior instructor, who was silently listening.
Skipper said nothing, simply observing the landscape they were about to survey.
Dusty increased his throttle and scanned the ground for signs of smoke or fire. He searched mentally for a topic to discuss but came up empty. It was Skipper who spoke first:
"You know... we haven’t spent time together like this in ages. Just us, as friends—me, Sparky, Chug, Dottie, you, Chloe..." He paused. "Even me and you."
"I agree," Dusty replied quietly.
"Treasure these moments. None of us are eternal," the fighter’s voice carried an unexpected sadness. Perhaps he was overwhelmed by memories of the war—so many deaths, lost cadets, or thoughts of his own mortality. We can only guess.
"You’ll live another hundred years," Dusty said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.
"Hey, Dusty," Skipper added, "just call me you. Drop the formal stuff."
"All right, Skipper."
By the time Dusty finished his patrol, the rain had started. It began as a light drizzle, then quickly intensified, drumming against their wings and fuselage. The student and mentor found it oddly amusing and were casually flying back to Propwash Junction when—suddenly—lightning struck just 300 meters from them.
Terrified, Dusty realized the danger and instantly yelled over the radio:
"We can’t stay in the air during a thunderstorm! Back to Propwash Junction, now!"
Throttle maxed out. The mechanical heart beat faster. Wind howled past the cockpit. Anxiety rose with every second. While passenger and cargo planes can usually withstand lightning, a crop-duster or an old fighter wouldn't stand a chance.
The runway and hangars came into view. Dusty requested emergency landing clearance. The senior instructor silently followed behind. Landing approved. Dusty flew parallel to the runway; Skipper lined up behind him. Dusty lowered his speed, deployed his landing gear—descent, smooth touchdown.
He came to a stop and caught his breath, then looked back at Skipper. The veteran fighter deployed his own gear and began descending—but a sudden gust of wind threw him off course, forcing him into a go-around.
As Skipper passed within 10 meters of Dusty, the firefighter’s worst fears came true: a deafening crack of thunder, a blinding flash of lightning.
It struck Skipper. Right in the cockpit.
The burning fighter spun uncontrollably, losing control and crashing toward the ground—though the drop wasn’t too high.
There was a loud metallic crash on the asphalt, a fountain of sparks erupted—and when it was over, an eerie silence fell.
The lifeless plane lay upside-down, engulfed in flames. Part of his left wing was torn off. Sirens wailed. The townsfolk poured into the streets—first to arrive were, of course, Chug and Dottie. Dusty stood frozen amidst the chaos, eyes cast down.
Everyone was in shock—some panicked, others stood speechless. Once the burning fuel was extinguished, Dusty dared to approach his mentor, now surrounded by his team.
Skipper’s condition was truly horrific… Artificial tears streamed down Dusty’s face.
How? Why?
The murmuring of the townsfolk only deepened the gloom. Dusty looked at his friends: Dottie and Sparky were working over Skipper, Chloe quietly cried, her propeller resting against Chug’s side.
Together, they managed to flip the fighter and tow him into Dottie's workshop. During the inspection, Dusty stood silently in the corner, still holding on to a sliver of hope that Skipper could be saved.
Dusty flinched as Dottie covered his mentor with a white sheet…
"There's nothing more we can do, Dusty," she said, barely holding back tears. "Instant death from the lightning strike. The vital microchips in the cockpit are fried."
"Can’t they be fixed?"
"They could be," Dottie hesitated, "but... it wouldn’t be Skipper anymore."
"What? Why?" Dusty asked through tears.
"Well… Those chips kind of… hold the personality. The soul, you might say," the mechanic explained, struggling to find the right words.
"Oh… I see. I never really thought about that."
"Sparky contacted the Flying Wrenches. In a few days, there’ll be a military funeral procession."
Upon hearing this, Dusty couldn’t hold back anymore. He burst into bitter tears, pressing his propeller against Dottie’s body.
"He was alive just an hour ago!" Dusty sobbed. "I should’ve remembered how dangerous storms are! It’s all my fault! Ranger Wind never should’ve let me graduate…"
"Listen, Dusty. This wasn’t your fault," Dottie tried to calm him. "Accidents happen. I’ve seen many that no one could survive…" She rolled back and headed to one of the tool drawers, soon returning with a spoonful of valerian extract.
"Take this, it’ll help you calm down," she said. And when Dusty resisted, she forced the bitter liquid into his mouth.
"Drink it, or you’ll never get any sleep tonight! Now go spend some time with Chug and Sparky. They're keeping it together better than the rest."
"Okay," Dusty agreed, rolling out of the hangar.
The rain had already poured its last—almost as if it had wept for the fallen mentor, struck down by his own sister, the Storm.
(thanks to Chat GPT for the translation)
Skipper - from a background character to a deuteragonist
Replied to @nan3017
Fast motions warning ⚠️
Ordinary fauna of cars world
stupid ass thing i made 🥹🥹🥹🥹
sorry if dusty is funny looking I'm still learning the art of drawing vehicles <\3 og pic i used below
Oh no the boi nah this is reminds me of that scene in planes 2 with him getting all retardant and getting splashed with cold water 😂
if someone still wondering where Dusty's dashboard is, I've put together a few screenshots where you can see it clearly.
Life is rough, this world is shit, so have some smiling Blade istg he looks so sweet
Yall someone come get this creature
Fucker bit me then threatened a tree. I think this cat is beyond repair dude.. 😭
Everyone: *Trying to reach for the charger that Rodimus has*
Rodimus: Alright, everybody, start your betting!
Brainstorm: 95%.
Swerve: 89%.
Rung: 52%.
Whirl: 30%.
Tailgate: 2%.
Rodimus: And sold, to the sad, sad mech with 2%!
HES USING A CANE WHAT IF I CRY HUH WHAT THEN
LOOK AT HIM HES JUST LIKE ME FR 😭😭😭😭😭
beach season🏖️
Transformers Iron Legends Universe: The Decepticon Justice Division - Tesarus
The fearsome behemoth known as Tesarus is truly a nightmare to behold. As the largest member of the Decepticon Justice Division, his primary method of eliminating his targets involves first overwhelming them with his superior size, then seizing them in the vice-like grip of his four powerful arms, before finally forcing them into the whirling maw of blades and grinders that makes up his torso. Whether unfortunate autobot or traitorous Decepticon, when Tesarus is done with you there won't be anything left but a pile of shredded scrap.
Before Tesarus joined the Decepticons and assumed his current title in the DJD, he was a humble waste disposal worker known as Scissorsaw. Years of horrible treatment by the authorities and the upper class citizens who looked down on him wore down the once kind and cheerful bot until all he had left was spite and festering hatred. In the lead up to the civil war, Scissorsaw and his brother Crucible had taken it upon themselves to start disposing of the "trash" that plagued Cybertron. The rumours of their targeted killings caught the attention of the Decepticons, who didn't need to do much convincing to recruit them.
As Tesarus and Helex are brothers, they tend to get along much like any pair of siblings - arguing and fighting about little things, but defending each other to the death when it counts. Tesarus grumbles at Nickel's constant nagging about personal hygiene - he knows better than any doctor about appropriate decontamination procedures, but he just can't live down that one time he got a t-cog lodged in the back of his grinders.
While Tesarus might appear to take great pleasure in what he does, the execution of fellow Decepticons has never sat well with him. Some of them certainly deserve it, but even those cases do little to fill the void (both literal and metaphorical) inside him. He just wishes the war could be over so he could go back to emptying dumpsters - it wasn't glamorous, but there was a simple fulfilment to helping keep the world clean.
Nickel: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?
Tesarus: *Crouches down*
Helex: *Kneels down*
Vos: *Sits on the floor*
Nickel:
Nickel: I hate all of you.
Some IDW tf characters as memes I found earlier (:
Is there anyone who would do Transformers Idw on Janitor AI?
There's this website where you roleplay with bots. But there's not that many Transformers Idw characters. And I wonder if there's also anyone who do bots there. The website is also mature but can also have sfw.
