Everyone's memed the hell out of the depressing recording of the last male Kauai O'o singing for a mate who will never come, but apparently there's actually a recording of a duet of the male and female singing back and forth to each other?
https://youtu.be/c6Nn1JgNzWY?si=wzuqmCQr3pc-icFM
oh thanks!
yeah that call, videos of the last captive thylacine, pictures of the last captive passenger pigeon, and other endings have been widely circulated around the internet and viewed millions of times collectively! this is because the greatest human fear is loneliness
메옵
What a patetic little glorber ( I love him)
So we've established Screamer doesn't like smooches from randos (relatable), but how does he feel about smooches from his trinemates? Or affection in general from them?
it's his own damn fault
I dabble in felting aka stabbing myself repeatedly despite having hand protection
I love the way Megatron scolds Starscream like a little kid.
skystar comic sketch in which skyfire conveniently forgets that he is in fact an aircraft
All We Have (Part 7)
Optimus looks like he’s having fun…
Since a comic takes forever for me to do and takes time away from making content and commissions, I’ve decided to open donations! You don’t have to if you can’t, but it’ll be a big help for any support! Don’t have money? Sharing my content and comic are more than enough! Thank you everyone!
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Chibi screamer this time
Weird ass dream
Starscream hunched over his makeshift lab, cackling as he mixed a bubbling, ominously glowing concoction. This was it. His greatest poison yet. No more miscalculations. No more half-failures. No more Megatron surviving out of sheer spite.
"At last," Starscream whispered, watching the mixture swirl into a deep, menacing shade of—
Pink.
"...What?"
The chemical let out a tiny, cheerful poof of pink smoke, smelling vaguely like candies.
Starscream's processor went completely blank.
He grabbed a scanner, quickly running a composition check. The results appeared on the screen:
TOXICITY: 0%
EFFECT: Romantic attachment, intense infatuation, emotional vulnerability.
Starscream’s wings flared in horror. "A love potion?!" He screeched so loudly that three Vehicons outside the lab spontaneously quit their jobs.
"No, no, no! I was trying to make death, not date night!" He flailed, pacing back and forth. He had to get rid of this before something stupid happened.
But just as he turned to dispose of it, the door slammed open.
Megatron stomped in, looking exactly as furious as usual.
Starscream yelped and hid the flask behind his back. "M-Mighty Megatron! What brings you here to my totally innocent and not at all treacherous laboratory?"
Megatron squinted at him. He immediately spotted the very suspiciously colored liquid.
Megatron sneered. "Another poison, Starscream?"
Starscream's entire frame went stiff. "WHAT? NO! Of course not! Why would you—"
Without warning, Megatron snatched the flask from Starscream’s servos.
"Megatron, DON’T—"
Megatron, dead inside, and with no self-preservation lifted the bottle and chugged it like a shot of cheap high-grade.
Starscream shrieked. "MEGATRON, YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!"
Megatron wiped his mouth, unimpressed. "Please, Starscream. You’ve poisoned me so many times I don’t even pretend to care anymore."
Starscream grabbed his own head. "YES, BUT—"
Megatron crossed his arms. "What? What’s the problem this time? You wanted to administer it yourself in some diabolical plan of overthrowing me? I spared you time and effort. You should thank me."
Starscream took a deep breath, staring him directly in the optics. "That wasn’t poison."
Megatron raised a brow. "Then what was it?"
Starscream winced. "A love potion."
Silence.
Then Megatron scoffed. "There’s no such thing as a love potion. Love isn’t a chemical reaction you can bottle up, Starscream, that’s ridiculous."
Starscream threw his arms in the air. "TELL THAT TO THE MAGIC PINK JUICE YOU JUST WATERFALLED INTO YOUR FACE."
Megatron rolled his optics. "I am leaving. Try harder next time, Starscream."
—
Few hours later.
Megatron’s systems groggily rebooted.
Something felt… wrong. For one thing, he was comfortable, way to comfortable. Which was a bad sign.
His arms were wrapped around something warm. Something with wings.
He became aware of soft, rhythmic venting. A quiet, peaceful hum.
Something was pressed against him.
Something was snuggling.
Megatron’s optics slowly flickered online.
He was in his quarters. On his berth. Holding Starscream in a tight embrace.
—And that’s when Megatron, warlord of the Decepticons, commander of a mighty army, shrieks like a malfunctioning alarm system.