#spicyspoilers

[wily-red-and-galeforce-gold]

[beyond-use]

@spicyspoilers​ || starter call.

All he had to do was keep his head down and stay as unobtrusive as ever. It wouldn’t be hard. Stick to the sidelines, find a quiet place to stay put where he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. Optics down, no unnecessary eye contact, and everything would be just fine.

“Oh, pardon me!” he apologized hastily to the mech he had half-run into. Maybe he had been keeping himself a little too turned away from his surroundings; lost in thought and with his optics trained resolutely on the ground, he hadn’t quite seen where he was going (or who was in his way). Risking a quick glance up, Rung was caught by unwarranted surprise. After all, what were the chances of him not stumbling into a familiar face when that was the last thing he needed?

“R-Rodi--!” He cleared his vocorder, hoping he had managed to catch himself in time. Not Rodimus, not yet.

“I mean, please excuse me. Are you alright?”

[alacritysparked]

🥀 longing

M!A Build Up

“Why can’t I be who they want me to be? No matter how much I remember, I’m never going to be who they lost. I won’t be their Bumblebee.”

...

“Teletraan X, fire up the patch and don’t let anyone in. Cybertronians have all the time in the universe, right? Time for a trip down memory lane.”

[daringherring]

@spicyspoilers​ liked your post: ♥ for a starter!

It’s been a few days since Jazz started fiddling with the multiversal frequencies in his archives, and he thinks he’s managed to piece together a sort of franken-signal that might reach into a different universe.

Maybe. There’s no way to find out except by testing it, though, so he tweaks the settings on his communicator, enters the frequency code he’s cobbled together, and sends out a ping.

All that’s left is to see if he gets an answer.

[ask-smokescreen]

spicyspoilers replied to your post “Dirtyscreen needs a bath”

"I feel like this is just a poor attempt for the anons to watch you wash, Smokescreen. Don't buy into it!"

Wait, why would they wanna watch me wash, anyway? I'm just hosing myself down with soap and water, what're they even expecting?

[unicromx8]

spicyspoilers replied to your post:      ( I don’t understand the point of changing...

“To look good!”

    ( There are not enough resources available for every selfish mortal to ‘look their best.’ Your opinion of ‘good’ changes so often and so sharply that it wastes and wastes and wastes. )

[hard-edgedandduly-appointed]

Hot Rod chose to lay on his desk, datapad in hand and looking rather bored. He grinned cheekily, eyeing Max through the corner of his optic. " You know Max, I kinda... I find it really hard to concentrate on reading. Can you come over here and help me? "

      Fortress Maximus, focused on his own datapad, hadn’t noticed just how little focus Hot Rod was managing until he was addressed. The tank shifted in his seat, lowered the report he was editing to watch Hot Rod move. Simply to move— as if Fort Max could resist any of Hot Rod’s requests. 

      “You know that I can.” 

      He crossed from his desk to Hot Rod’s and circled around behind the speedster. One hand settled on Hot Rod’s chair back, the other on the desk around his shoulder.

      “Where are you stuck, Hot Rod?” 

[aranea-mechanica]

@spicyspoilers​ - (x)

       “ Ah, no, I mean–! ”

       Hot Rod mimicked Tarantulas’ chelicera-looking faceplate. It was in good nature, he doesn’t mean any harm. More so, he’s intrigued!

       “ How! With your mouth? Your wiggly mouth. ”

An amused huff, and Tarantulas put one hand on his hip. “If this is your roundabout way of asking me to ‘open wide,’ you’re in luck - I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll give you a free show.”

And with that, the mandibles fluttered again before parting entirely, revealing a rather unusual maw. Twin chelicerae stretched out leisurely, directing their fanged tips in Hot Rod’s direction, before also parting to reveal the rest of the mouth behind them, glossa and all.

“Ah, I ought to have prefaced - no touching. Optics only.” The words emanated from Tarantulas’s mouth even as he held it open wide - clearly he didn’t need to use his mouth or glossa in order to vocalize, strictly speaking.