until all are one @galaxyconvoy - Tumblr Blog

Independent Optimus Prime from the Unicron Trilogy as interpreted by Shea (she/her, 30+).

— rules | headcanon

A rare transmission, but he owes it to Jetfire to at least check-in. « How are things on Cybertron, old friend? »

There was once a time in both of their lives where transmissions between the two of them weren't so rare, actually commonplace. Be it regarding status reports, updates from the frontlines, a friendly talk, or something else. The commline on either end never had a metaphorical layer of dust on it.

The end of the war changed damn near everything, of course. Including their companionship.

The work peace brought forth for many kept idle scarred servos busy-- and it was all a far cry from monotonous. Day in and day out, having to resolve issues between those who still harbored bad blood for one another, or reviewing and approving new building plans for future structures of some sort of importance. Having just gotten out of one such meeting, involving Red Alert, who was eager to build up a new center with multiple wings for patients and scientific research. Hashing out details and growing a headache at the idea of stretching out more workers between projects and funneling funding towards it, the mountain of paperwork that would come with it, he was ready to crawl into his office and never be seen or heard from again for a while.

That was, of course, until that silent commline sparked to life. A familiar voice flooding through. It was pitifully embarrassing how quickly Jetfire responded back. It's a wonder he let Optimus finish speaking.

« Optimus! » His tone and his mood both perking up, followed by his wings. Thank Primus he was alone in his office.

« Everything's going just great, so far. Just busy, veeery veeeery busy. Got some bumps here and there, but nothin' to worry about. But enough about me mate- how are ya doing? Things going good out there? You alright? »

galaxyconvoy

A smile tugs at his faceplates at hearing Jetfire's voice, yet Optimus hesitates, uncertain if he can match the shuttle's enthusiasm. The spacebridge project had been a welcome relief from constant warfare, from the burden of leadership that frayed his nerves. It'd given him something to do; hard labor to avoid the emotional fallout of over ten million years of war. Yet, even within the deep, unknown corners of space, guilt still came in to creep, depressive exhaustion panging his spark with regret, grief, doubt— I don't know how to function during peace.

« Heh, deep space isn't without misadventure, but things are going well. I'm glad to hear you're settling in. » Optimus avoids talking about himself directly, something he hopes his old powerlinking partner doesn't pick up on. « The Decepticons aren't giving you any trouble? »

He asks as though the war ended yesterday, that he's only been gone a short time, knowing quite well it's been far longer than that — his absence, however noble and just, is a self-inflicted exile. Within the confines of his quarters, he stares emptily into the darkness.

The question, albeit genuine, is another avoidance. « Are you happy? » He sighs wearily, his voice soft. It feels awkward to ask despite their closeness. « Do you think ... things are better since the war ended? »

#righthandshuttle

You didn't actually see him.

#status;#hides behind retirement

HAPPY THOTSGIVING 💦🦃🦃🦃🍴👅👅 TURKEY ISNT THE ONLY THING GETTING STUFFED 👌🏻👈🏻👅😩😩😩 YOURE ONE OF MY FAVORITE HOES 👭🍑💦❤️ ❤️IM SO THANKFUL TO HAVE A FILTHY SLUT LIKE U IN MY LIFE 🍆💦💦💦🍂 🍂🍂SEND THIS TO 🔟 OF THE NASTIEST 👄💃🏽 PILGRIMS YOU KNOW 🦃🦃😩😩😏😏 IF U GET THREE BACK THEN U REALLY A HOE 👌🏼👌

Thanksgiving is in danger.

To save it and the holidays, we should turn off anonymous.

#commlink;#nsfwish;#anonymous

Pretending he didn't receive that. He suddenly can't perceive his inbox. He's going to forward all Thanksgiving Day stuffing spam to @righthandshuttle.

#status;