Not all links lead to my own work, some are for my own navigation purpose to other blogs and sites I think are cool!
I occasionally reblog more mature content, and my tagging system isn't the bestーso scroll my blog at your own risk. Block me if you don't like gore or porn.
ao3 links: me ,resources, fav fic writer ever
Anime/Manga:
Haibane Renmei Youtube Comments ep 1
Kamisama Kiss Platonic Love: Girlhood Fanfic
Comics:
Fullmetal Alchemist Webtoon Eps to Manga Chapters Conversions
That Which Flows By Shitpost
Games:
Ikemen Sengoku Witch of Penchant Masterlist (Abandoned Fic)
Touchstarved Chocolate Fanart
Books:
"Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus" By Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
^link here is for me. I think its a cool website.
Short Stories
PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MOBY DICK!!!!! If you couldn't tell I like the ocean. I like shark movies, arctic exploration, and marine biology. Catch me at the beach, I grew up boating down the Red and Sabine Rivers, and my sense of decor is that of a costal grandmas :b
Interests
Currently engaging with the media/fandom: Transformers, Metal Cardbot, Twisted Wonderland, Kamisama Kiss, Apothecary Diaries, Cybird Ikemen Series, Hell's Paradise: Jigokuraku, Little Witch Academia,
Hatsune Miku, Hello Kitty and friends
Other: Dungeon Meshi, Dandadan, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, The Summer Hikaru Died, DC and Marvel comics on occation (usually 🦇 and 🕷), The Kid at the Back, The Freak Circus, Obey Me, Scales of the Dragon, Jentry Chau vs the Underworld, Cybersix, Kpop Demon Hunters, El Eternauta, The Terror, Jaws, Classic Gothic Literature, Howls Moving Castle and fantasy in general.
Blending Bumblebee’s signature optics and helm shapes into a sleek mecha-Oni mask works incredibly good. The sharp red-on-white contrast gives it such a dangerous presence👹🤖 Artwork by digital artist Mili
TFP x Reader Scenarios #1
(Mechs reaction to human laying still/sleeping on the floor)
These may not be perfectly in character, but they were just fun to write, [no critique wanted, thank you, :)]
[Asks and requests open, sfw only]
Ratchet:
Let’s be real, he probably wouldn’t notice until someone brought it to his attention, he’d assume the loft TV was on and someone was watching it
It’d probably be Miko that calls you out, “Hey docbot! Y/N is passed out on the floor!” She probably thought it was a prank since she isn’t opposed to seeking attention herself, but since you ignored her attempts to wake you this was weirder than she thought
Now HE knows, of course he begrudgingly acknowledges Miko and reluctantly turns around only to find that she was right, a look of shock riddled his face, and his bright optics widened.
”Quick, give her to me and I'll bring her to my laboratory!” Miko can’t drag a thing, so he just comes over himself and picks you up, of course you can feel his massive yet gentle servos scooping you up and then laying you upon a large metal surface, it was cold and shocked you awake, now he was scanning you.
Once you woke up, you rubbed your eyes and shrugged it off as sorry for the scare, I’ve just been so tired I passed out while doing Y/A….
He was VERY relieved, and sighed, now y/n, please do not scare me like that again….
Wheeljack, “Jackie:”
(My beloved, UvU)
This one’s a tough bolt to loosen, and always preoccupied with tinkering on his ship, the jackhammer or out sniffing cons tailpipes, he was WILD. He was always doing something or going somewhere
He didn’t think much of his human counterpart until you proved yourself to be up to speed with his wanderlust and (mostly) friendly antics, as well as dangerous situations. He eventually came to enjoy your company, as you too enjoyed being around the rugged ol’ wrecker and listened to all his war stories and random babblings
Wherever you were, you were likely listening to his stories or watching him tinker with assorted equipment, though you were relaxed you realized you were also tired, he didn’t even notice your couple of yawns and when he turned around to ask for something he noticed you laying still
He didn’t panic, in fact, the wrecker did the exact opposite and picked you up gently in his servos and just held you, being careful not to drop you as you slept, little did you know a small smile graced his scarred lips and he laid you down on the couch within the bases confines.
You were quite nice like this, and after laying you down he put a digit on your head while saying, “sleep well….sunshine.”
He then went back to his tinkering on the JH.
Knockout:
We still dont know what he was doing here…. I suppose this was sometime after he converted to the light side of the battle
You had been finishing up some studying which tired you out even more and you collapsed, until….
”Y/N, I’m ready for my evening buff session,” he demanded called, only to get no response, now he was looking for you, “we aren’t playing a little game now are we? I ‘always’ win, you know.”
There you were, asleep, now who was gonna buff his hot rims?
He swiftly walked over and started nudging at your tired body, which turned to prodding, and then to his servos swiping you up and looking at you closer, “your not extinguished are you?”
This started to wake you up, still groggy and disgruntled.
Now he was shocked. He swiftly took you to his laboratory and laid you down on the table, similar to ratchet did, except he had more dramatic lights involved and sounds of rattling tools.
NOW you were very awake, “Knock out wait! I’m okay!” You reassured the now slightly agitated doctor, you tried to make it up for the scare by tentatively offering a buff AND polish.
He was very enticed by this offer and considered it a deal….
You’ve never been this sick before. You’ve had tonsillitis as a kid, typical flus and colds, a memorable bout or three with bronchitis and, of fucking course, came down with covid a couple times. None of those illnesses were like this. Something has gotten inside your head.
You make a quiet noise of complaint as what feels like cold metal surrounds you, painful against your hot skin, even through the blanket wrapped around you. You feel so cold, but you’re sweaty and dizzy. The world isn’t right. Everything’s too big and bright and moving wrong. Your head’s stuffed full of cotton and you’re not thinking right. And there’s a voice you don’t know, rich and deep, with a strange modulation to it you can’t place.
Sorry, little one, but your internal temperature is creeping past the danger zone for your species with no signs of stopping. Much higher and you’re risking processor damage. Don’t be afraid, we’re going to help you.
A machine sort of noise and rush of air, with a very quiet addition you don’t quite catch. I hope.
You are too sick to do much of anything except feel horribly confused, weak, and cold. You flinch away from the light, its brightness like ice picks into your head. There’s another voice snapping something about photosensitivity, dim the slagging lights. The brightness fades, but even in the dim twilight you don’t really want to open your eyes. Everything hurts. You just want to go home.
There’s a hushed argument, and then something very large moves over you. In your delirium it registers as if you’re swimming deep underwater, and a pod of whales has come to say hello.
‘S illegal. Getting me in trouble…caught. You’re mumbling to the whales. You’re not ever supposed to approach wildlife. Even if you always dreamed of meeting them.
That rumbling voice sounds so tired, so sad, that you feel bad for it.
Are they conscious? Are they trying to communicate with us?
A pause. The other voice speaks. There’s a sense of something big hovering directly over you. You can feel it somehow, even with your eyes closed, like feeling a current in the ocean.
No, I don’t think so. Their brain activity is alarming compared to baseline. But who in the Pit knows? Organic processors are a mess to begin with, let alone one infected with something this species has never encountered before.
A big blue whale-song, mournful. We never should have come here. What have we done, Ratchet?
The other, more gruff voice. Also sounding tired. We couldn’t have known that the debris brought a contagion planetside until it happened. Don’t panic just yet, Prime. So far, they’re the only one directly exposed. We got them in quarantine as soon as Nurse Darby realized something was wrong beyond the usual illnesses. It was just bad luck they happened to come across the contamination before we could clean it all up. There’s no reason to believe it can jump from human to human yet.
There’s a pause, and the first voice is even quieter.
Will they live?
There’s more motion. Beeping noises. You must be in a hospital. Yes, you remember that much. Going into the ER late one night after the Tylenol wouldn’t touch your fever, which had come on suddenly.
I can’t make promises, you know that. I don’t know much about this contagion. I didn’t even know it could behave this way in organics when it’s harmless to us.
He sounds frustrated.
But I was fine, the groggy thought drifts up from the depths of your mind. Everything is slow and dark and cold, a thousand fathoms deep.
I was fine, I went out doing my volunteer work. And then I got sick.
You don’t remember meeting your doctors. There might have been an ambulance…you think? Flashing lights, sirens. A woman’s worried voice, low, as she adjusted the IV in your arm. It’s what is making you feel so cold, you decide, and with all your frail strength begin trying to grab and wrench it out.
An immediate shuffle around you, and the grumpy whale reaches out and stops you. You push weakly at its rubbery flipper. It’s a whale, a humpback whale you think. You have about as much chance of moving it as you do lifting an ambulance.
Eh-eh-eh! None of that, now. You pull that out and neither of us will enjoy me trying to put it back in. Optimus, hand me the - yes, thank you.
You whimper softly and cry out as you find you can’t move. There’s things touching you - seaweed, wires, tangling you. Everything’s cold.
There. Sorry, human, but we can’t have you hurting yourself. …why am I even talking to them, they’re not going to remember any of this.
You huff and decide very hard to remember this just because you were told you wouldn’t. You forget a minute later what it was you were trying to remember, and start thrashing around against the seaweed. The beeping gets louder, more painful.
Can’t ever make anything easy, can you?
What are you doing?
I’m going to use the medication June left to sedate them.
But didn’t she say that could -
Yes, but - well, look at them!
Look at who? You wonder, as you fight off the tangling seaweed. You should find the surface. You need to breathe. You’re starting to feel scared. You can’t breathe.
The humpback whale is distressed. Somehow you can feel it, you know it. If they were a mech I could put them in stasis, keep them from suffering like this. This is cruel, Optimus. I - I don’t know.
He sounds defeated, angry. So tired. You reach out past the seaweed to try and pet him, because if the whales are going to insist on hanging out, you might as well earn that huge fine for touching the wildlife. Your sensitive palm makes contact with cold, hard skin, almost like it’s absorbed all the ice in the ocean. There’s a feeling of surprise, and silence, and then something crashes like a wave in the distance. There are big booming sounds. Those waves slamming into rocky, echoing caverns.
Watch them a moment. I’m going to consult with June. Do not let them tear that IV out. Comm me if their breathing gets worse.
The big blue whale is back, filling in the absence of the humpback. It catches your hand in its massive flipper, then brushes your wet hair out of your face. You had always heard whales were impossibly gentle despite their enormous size. You hadn’t quite imagined they could be this dexterous, though.
I’m sorry this happened to you. You did nothing wrong. You and so many other innocents, harmed because of us.
You squeeze his flipper, you think, but things are getting very hazy.
Please live. There is so much more to the universe that you deserve to get to see. I don’t know if you can hear me, but don’t give up.
His voice, even full of pain deep as the bottom of the sea, is comforting. You don’t want him to be so sad. But that’s what whalesong always is, isn’t it?
The humpback comes back. He’s doing something with the IV. You had no idea whales knew how to do that. You didn’t know they could be white and red, either. Don’t tell Ahab.
June says to increase the dosage and keep giving fluids. The tests she’s running show this formulation should drive out the infection, but…
But?
…but not without…impacts.
What kind of impacts? …Ratchet?
We can’t be sure. This is all highly experimental, Prime, we’re working off of practically nothing. June thinks it’s doing something to their central nervous system. We don’t know what, yet. It’s going to be a race to see what gives in first: the infection, or their vital systems.
A rumble, contemplative. At least they seem to have calmed. Their heart rate is down to almost normal.
For now. A pause. If they recover, we can’t keep this one. Fowler can find somewhere to stash them, I’m sure.
Silence.
Oh, for - Optimus! We’re not running a xeno-zoo!
Let us wait and see if that is even a conversation we will need to have, old friend.
Disgruntled feelings like poprocks in your mind.
…fine. Oh.
Oh?
Their fever has come down two-tenths of a point. That’s a start in the right direction. Let’s get that oxygen mask on and see if it helps. Of all the gasses to breathe, they had to pick one of the most flammable. Who even designed this fragging species? I want a word with them.
The whales are singing, and you decide it’s not so scary down here, after all. It reminds you of that song. You wheeze out a few words.
Beyond th’ sea, somewhere…waiting…
Hush. Rest, now. Big blue, biggest animal ever on earth. And for some reason, it cares about you.
You fall asleep under a blanket of seaweed, and eventually the ocean doesn’t feel so cold. You’re part of a pod, swimming slowly compared to them, but swimming all the same. And at least you’re not alone down in the dark. Maybe when you wake, you’ll get to see them breach the surface, leaping into the warmth of the sun. Maybe you’ll get to leap with them.
Hiii Revel! Hope everything is going good 💕 is it possible to get MCB dexter with a reader that loves gardening/preserving nature or something like that? (I have a feeling I'm going to be the one asking for alot of MCB 💀)
🤣 no worries. I like Dexter and his hoard of stray cats that he’s definitely named every single one of
Calm
MCB Dexter x Reader
• Exhaling slowly as you reach to gently wiggle a marigold out of its little plastic container, there’s something relaxing about getting your hands dirty. And a huge hand reaches past you, the hand trowel ridiculously tiny pinched between his servos as Dexter carefully digs you another hole. While all the bots had wandered over to see what you were doing when you’d started, they’d all quickly lost interest. Except him. Maybe he finds this soothing, too.
• Watching you sprinkle some potting soil out of a bag into the hole before planting the flower, he leans slightly so you’re in the shade of his frame and you offer him a grateful smile. Enjoys this. Working side by side in companionable silence. And you’ve been at this for hours, sitting in the sun and emptying little container after container of flowers. Adding beauty to the hangar they call home. Reaching to make another hole while trying to not drop the tiny tool, you murmur ‘last one’ as you remove the plant and settle it in the hole, smoothing dirt around it.
• Stretching as your back aches, you wonder if you can sweet talk Phoenix Fire into watering everything for you without blasting the fragile plants into the dirt. Behind you, Dexter pushes to his peds and you start to follow. But your vision grays at the edges and you’re sitting back down hard in the grass, blinking at the head rush. “Are you okay?” Dexter asks, big hands reaching and optics concerned. You’re guessing you sat too long in the sun. Or maybe you need to eat something. Drinking some water wouldn’t hurt, either.
• “Yeah, I just need a minute. Stood up too fast,” you say with a smile like nothings wrong. But he’s reaching for you anyway, servos gently cupping around you and standing you up as you hang onto his hand. “Thanks for helping. It looks great,” you add. Is this normal? Something that happens if humans are immobile in the sun too long? Needs to ask Mega Ambler. You don’t seem concerned, though. Maybe it is just a human thing.
• “I prefer plants to concrete,” he murmurs as you take a step away from his servos and whatever that was has passed leaving only a disjointed, vaguely confused feeling in its wake. ‘Me, too. Oh, I need to show you bumblebee butts,’ you say, digging out your phone as he warily repeats ‘bumblebee butts,’ probably lost in trying to keep track of where your mind is. Finding a picture online, you hold it up and his big hand lands near you as he crouches to look at the screen and the flower, a chunky bee wedged inside, striped butt sticking out. ‘I like the flowers, but I love these guys. Cute, huh? They’re kind of you colored.’ And he rumbles softly, expression softening with amusement.
Hello Revel! Hope everything is going well for you! I'm just coming in and leaving this cause I've been listening to a lot of Starset and their music is just giving me so much Transformers vibes ✨️. Like Earthrise reminds me of Optimus and Echo reminds me so much of your Shockwave. I can't remember if you'd listened to them before but I think you'd like them if you haven't! Hope you're staying hydrated! 😊🥰
Oooh, I don’t think I’ve heard of them, but I’ll check them out! I can always use new music
Poison
Ratchet x Reader
• Sitting on top of a table in the rec room, you reach into your canvas bag and lay down your last kitkat. And the person sitting across from you smiles, slowly shaking their head. See someone else reaching to pull out a Coke in offering. Trying to freaking outbid you. Grimacing, you dig out a Redbull and a bag of twizzlers. Staring longingly at the bag of double stuffed oreos, you groan when the other person just smiles. “Oh, come on. You said you don’t even like Oreos,” you grumble as you go digging. Adding strawberry Pocky, a bag of cheetos, and some Takis to your pile. ‘Just because I don’t like them doesn’t mean I’m not aware of what they’re worth,’ they laugh.
• Glancing over at the group of humans huddling together on a table, he watches them all tense when Bluestreak walks by, one flipping a canvas bag between them. Covering something. And you look around, meeting his optics and wincing as you hurriedly whisper to the others. Trying to hide whatever you’ve got as he heads that way. But not before he sees the little packages. How the frag do you all keep getting contraband? “Hand over that poison,” he snarls but you and the others are already snatching up the snacks and running. “Get back here!”
• Swearing as you run the length of the table, Cybertronians are turning to stare as you scramble to rip open packaging. Scarfing a kitkat because the good doctor is going to take it away and toss it as soon as he catches you. And you can hear someone else hacking up a lung trying to inhale that hot Coke. Trying to explain to the medic that chocolate and caffeine aren’t poisonous had failed miserably and The Ban had gone into effect. Yelling as he smacks a hand on the table in front of you, you’re nearly falling trying to change direction.
• Grabbing for you as you dart and yell what he’s fairly certain are expletives, he’s not furious at you so much as whoever keeps giving all of you things he’s told the other Autobots are bad for you. Feeding you addictive, poisonous compounds just because you and the other humans can do that thing with your eyes. “Drop it! Drop it right now,” he demands as you tear open a package with your teeth to devour whatever’s inside and probably some paper, too.
• Dropping your Cheetos when he grabs you and your feet leave the table, you see the other two hurriedly eating their snacks as other bots try to help. “Who keeps giving you this stuff?” He demands and you sullenly meet his stare. ‘I’m no snitch,’ you mutter as he vents in aggravation. And he’s growling something likely unflattering about you and your entire species in his own language if you had to guess. Though, in your defense, you wouldn’t have to act so immature if he’d just lighten up some. Who cares if chocolate’s bad for you when you need it?
Shipping fictional characters isn’t representative of your moral values. It’s representative of your particular psychic damage and the themes and motifs that haunt you. Hope this helps.
