Dear Megatron,
First off, Id like to express how astonishing your leadership for the Decepticons was er is. Youre control has brought such prosperity over Cybertron and all who inhabit it. You lead us to a victo- brilliant fight over the Autobot scum, my liege. With this in mind, I, Starscream, consider that you treat yourself to a nice long vacation where you can recharge. The Black Hole cruise line pamphlet is attached.
Sincerely,
Starscream
I arrived home, weary from the long day and long drive. The dogs bombarded me with canine greetings as I came through the door. My cat stayed out of the fray, but meowed loudly, not wanting to be ignored. I pet each dog in turn and hugged my cat before heading upstairs. I set my bag at the foot of the bed, and as I turned, something caught my eye. Something was amiss, but I couldnt quite tell what. I gazed at the rows of Transformers on my bookshelf, then finally I noticed it.
Blackout had... moved. Not much. No more than two or three inches, but for an inanimate object, this was immense.
It had been two and a half years since the events of Mission City. While the majority of Earths population were going about their normal business-for the Cybertronians hidden among them and their allies-life was hectic. The discovery of the hidden colony had thrown things out of order, along with the subsequent ceasefire between the Autobots and the Decepticons.
Nightshade-Megatrons former mate-had seized the reins of power among the Decepticons. Now the Lady High Protector, she had met with Optimus and negotiated for a somewhat stable ceasefire-along with a small Decepticon force on Earth. &
Transformers : Common by weapon13WhiteFang, literature
Literature
Transformers : Common
"Son of a bitch!"
It was common to hear. Everyone, higher ups and new recruits, quickly learned to accept the outburst. If they didn't like it, no one had the gall to step up and say so, less they wanted to be the one the scream was directed at. Unless they wanted to walk around with a black eye or worse. No, almost everyone kept their opinions to themselves, higher ups and the simple privates. Almost everyone.
The few that did, the few that actually took the initiative to try and shut the snarls and cries of "fuck you" and "cock sucking sunuvabitch", where held in a gracious, almost holy, light to those not willing to stick their necks out
Only Skin Deep
I'm not vain
Alright, you can stop laughing, giggling, snickering, rolling your eyes any time now. Really, I'm not vain. I just happen to be very confident in myself and my appearance…. Ok, so maybe I am a little vain; but I wasn't always like this. Once upon a time, I was infact, quite a sorry sight to behold.
Tracks didn't remember anything about his creation. He didn't even remember who, or what, had created him. He just remembered lying on his back. Tracks. That was the first word that came to his mind, though he didn't know from where. Yet something told him that word belonged to him, was a part of him. It was his name.
Somethingsnevergooutofstyle by GWolf21, literature
Literature
Somethingsnevergooutofstyle
"You sure do moan a lot, old timer".
"I'll have you know, I am not old, you young ruffian, I am well aged, refined, matured. I am not old. Now hurry up with this Primus forsaken check up. Some of us have places to be".
The medibot smiled slightly. His patient did indeed have someplace to be. As a surviving hero of the Great War, he was to be part of the honour guard at Cheetor Prime's inauguration. But even if it was any old day, he doubted the attitude would be any different. This guy was spent most of his time talking down to everyone. Still, once you got past the high and mighty act, it was hard not to like to old-excuse me, refined bot.
TFAxHsR: Longarm's 'Friends' by ZootyCutie, literature
Literature
TFAxHsR: Longarm's 'Friends'
It was a lazy day at the Elite Guard headquarters. Decepticon activity was surprisingly low, and there was nothing going on. Longarm was halfway to stasis mode, when a new email brought him back. Much to his surprise and concern, it wasn't an Autobot one, but one from a Decepticon! Nervously opening it, he made sure no one was near.
"WASSUP, SHOCKWAVE!
YOU'VE BEEN DOING AWESOME. BUT, I THINK IT'S TIME FOR A LITTLE PRANKING TO GET THOSE AUTOBOTS IN ORDER.
BLITZWING"
Longarm sighed. Leave it to Blitzwing to try and blow his cover. He was about to delete it, when a though crept into his processor. A really mischievous plot.
----------------
Tune It Down!
"What is that music?!"
"I haven't the faintest idea," Tracks murmured in response to Cliffjumper's distressed outcry. He traded looks with Jazz, who shrugged, the helpless grimace below his visor saying clearly that he couldn't process it, either. They knew where it was coming from and with a nod of silent agreement to each other they headed up the hallway. The sounds filled the next two hallways up and one hallway over until they reached the spot they fully expected to end up in: outside Blaster's quarters. Tracks knocked on the door while Jazz stood off to the side, tilting his head one way, then the other a moment later as
I am a huge fan of Yu-Gi-Oh, as you can no doubt tell. I also enjoy various fanshippings of every pairing( I know, I know, I'm weird like that, as I'm always told) of Yu-Gi-Oh pairings. So yea. And yes, this really is my name.