second only to a keyring

indie AU jack darby from transformers prime. mun is 18+, muse is not. also a tfp fan blog. ic posts are tagged as jacktalk, reblogs are tagged reblogs. m!a: none

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//The about page has been updated! Please give it a read!

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@circuitry-and-chaos liked for a hug!

He slings an arm around one redplated set of shoulders, and the other around one finely polished dark helm, his eyes narrowed to small lines of blue and black. He locks in, revving his engine to communicate that he absolutely is upset- and will pick a fight if he has to.

"You two got ARRESTED?!"

It's a rhetorical question. The fact that a small contingent of bots had to go to the local holding station to vouch for them getting back without further brawls was proof enough.

The twins were wild, true, but- come on! Post-war arrests were practically nil! What had they done, ripped off someone's arm? Holy shit.

He tightens his grip, tipping his head up in a universal sign of begging the universe to be reasonable. "What was going through your heads?!"

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@polyhexianchicken liked for a hug!

"Whirl?" Jack pokes his head in, checking the FIFTH room in the last hour looking for the chaotic whirlybird. "Come on, you're a little old for hide and seek. I know you aren't big on med checkups, but- the sooner you get it done with, the better. I HEARD the sound your leg made."

No response, but... these doors usually close automatically if they're empty long enough. So either someone ducked in and Jack just missed them, or someone is still in the storeroom and didn't close the hatch behind them.

He starts to stalk through the shelves, squinting against the fluorescent white lighting. Nobody ever looks up when searching rooms in TV shows.

There's a soft pneumatic hiss, followed by a stressed ball bearing absolutely wrenching itself to pieces.

Jack turns on reflex, arms out- though if Whirl falls on him, it might not be enough to catch him well. The thought occurs just a bit too late.

One normal sized truck is now struggling not to get pinned under several tons of flight-capable transformer, cheek pressed near flat against the underside of his cockpit. His legs shake.

"wHIRL!"

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@springingfromnothing liked for a hug!

"If you move, you're gonna pop the weld you just got," Jack huffs, crossing his arms behind his head from where he's lying next to Springer on the triple-changer sized medical cot, making himself more comfortable. "And you're in rough shape. So I'm on watch duty for the next six hours."

He's turned the holovid projector on. Cybertronian programs can be kind of confusing- and sometimes, they're more propaganda than content. So he's surfing through the content from Earth they've managed to port over, and hey! Bugs Bunny.

Bugs Bunny is relaxing.

The Barber of Seville plays through the speakers, and Jack pretends that watching Springer get stabbed isn't terrifying to see.

"If you need more pain meds, I can go grab a nurse."

But he doesn't make to get up. He's good where he is, tucked against the other like a particularly stubborn pet cat.

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@autobotmedic liked for hug!

Jack hates viruses. They suck.

It's a vastly different experience from a human illness, but there are a lot of superficial similarities. Processor viruses mess up operating systems, which screws up internal workings until personal debugging programs- or outside ones- can get everything back to baseline.

The exact symptoms vary, but right now? Jack's feeling fever, brain fog, super sensitive neural net. If he was human, it'd be the flu- but at least the flu happens because a physical thing is wrecking internal shop. As a bot, viruses make your own frame attack you.

An indescribable sound comes out of him as his vents stutter. Too long running, too hot. It's awful, and he desperately wants his mom.

He sits up, somehow. It's a testament to how wonked out he is that he's not sure how he did it. Maybe it was a survival instinct, because now his helm is pressed against much cooler metal and he can't help but sigh with relief. Jack feels like he's breathing fire.

Instinctively, he clutches at the Cool Thing and or Person. Through the haze of tiredness, he can hear- feel- a gentle swish, swish, swish, right under more loud noises that he'll file through later.

"Water," he murmurs, slumping even more. "Please."

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@blindxptimism liked for hug!

"You've lost your ledge privileges," Jack sighs, his fuel pump still going nuts after watching the little bot with no cog SLIP off the edge of the platform. He had to full on scoop him up, and even now was still clutching him like a misbehaving toddler or cat, actively shuffling back. "For two weeks, no high places. That's how long it'll take me to recover from this."

It isn't even that if Orion dies, Optimus won't exist. It's that if Orion dies, Orion DIES. No more Orion. No more reckless bookworm who picks fights, no more bot who keeps wandering around during bedtime hours. No more anything of him.

"Don't do that again. Try and keep your optics on your surroundings."

He gives the other a slight squeeze before setting him down- FAR AWAY from any open air.

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Mun is feeling affectionate. Like this for a hug from Jack!

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Time to lay around in a pool and not have any thoughts at all.

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Sometimes you just have to sit around and muse on why other robots have certain names. And also how they drink with their hands, because that's actually a pretty cool trick.

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"Blue Cop. Mega Trucker. Mega Ambler. Buffalo Crush."

"...actually, that last one kind of sounds like a soft drink brand."

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"Metal Cardbot names are kind of weird, especially when I'm introducing myself. It's like, hey, I'm Jack. No, not like... Buster Jack, or Jack Tire or anything like that. And then you meet someone whose name is Dexter and you realize that there's no name rules here. Only chaos."

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//if cybertronians call sex interfacing do cardbots call it shuffling /j

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MY ADORING PUBLIC APPROVES

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//if cybertronians call sex interfacing do cardbots call it shuffling /j

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DECEPTISMOLS.

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It is Officially Summer and Sierra's in a mood to redecorate her backyard - which! Means a shopping trip! And also an excuse to poke one of her all time favorite people: "Hey Jack, any chance I can borrow you for a few hours? Today or tomorrow?"

"Definitely. What're we doing? Food, fun, business?" His holoform steps out of his altmode and circles around her to peck her cheek gently. "I can cover transportation there and back."

[springingfromnothing]

He's sitting with Springer wherever he is, reading a datapad. Close enough to hang out, but not so close that it's uncomfortable. Quiet chill time with large green pal. ((i hope your leg feels better soon! sciatica is hell.))

Springer is having a hell of a week. His entire frame feels painfully pinched under his armor. He keeps over heating too. Nothing wants to sit in his tanks right.

So having Jacks solid, calm presence nearby is comforting. Rumbling softly as he dozes off and on. Occasionally juat watching Blue with a muzzle expression.

Untol he holds a servo out. A bit awkward but earnest as he mumbles," ...cuddle?"

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Springer ASKING for comfort is a rarity. Jack's surprised by it, but he doesn't mind- it's not like there's anybody around for him to be conscious about. He tucks the datapad under his arm and then shuffles over.

He makes himself comfortable- not hard, because Springer is definitely big enough to make a decent chair or lean-to- and then resumes reading his datapad. The big guy is also running warm, so he kicks on his air conditioning.

If he runs it full-blast, it should make him a decent cool water bottle companion.

"Go nuts," he says, looking up with a gentle smile. Then it's back to reading the joys of cybertronian tire maintenance.

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//im watching hamtaro bc its all on internet archive and nobody can stop me. i loved this show as a kid