robots also have feels

aleph-abyssal:

I know that everybody and their Nanna has an opinion on El Tailgato and his new admirer, and some of these opinions are of the genus: HDU/Robin Thicke/Getaway lurkin’ in the shadows to leap out with a tip of his fedora and a M’Lady! level of creepiness, but I just wanted to…

Source: aleph-abyssal

Originally from Abyssal

unicorndraws:

how many times has this joke been done

Originally from unicorn draws

fayren:

Windblade #4 preview is up on Allspark! How about some clean pages for a little tease. ;)

(via theangrybee)

Source: fayren

Originally from monster boys & robots

susanivanovas:

true friendship is willfully making someone’s emotional devastation over fictional characters worse

:3c

(via neavi)

Source: susanivanovas

Originally from letting the queue run out

(via theangrybee)

Source: dobe-qj

Originally from Idiotic notes

mazzlebee:

A dishonored cow suggested by manicscribble~

mazzlebee:

A dishonored cow suggested by manicscribble~

Originally from Mazo Mazzle Mazzlebee

Susan drew a fantastic Drift and I just wrote this thing up really quick to go with it because I couldn’t help myself.

- - -

He hasn’t been gone long, but every passing moment stretches like an eternity and it feels like—

He made the right choice.

He knows he made the right choice.

He touches his chest, the pain of his damaged plating nothing compared to the pain in his spark. He had scraped off as much of the insignia as he could, but the red paint still marks him. A bot like him wasn’t meant to have a home, a family. He was always meant to—

"Drift."

He can feel the echo of gentle fingers, woven between his own; whispering his name between words of affection, love, desire. A soft touch and a kind smile that he doesn’t deserve, could never deserve.

He remembers.

He remembers what home feels like.

Susan drew a fantastic Drift and I just wrote this thing up really quick to go with it because I couldn’t help myself.

- - -

He hasn’t been gone long, but every passing moment stretches like an eternity and it feels like—

He made the right choice.

He knows he made the right choice.

He touches his chest, the pain of his damaged plating nothing compared to the pain in his spark. He had scraped off as much of the insignia as he could, but the red paint still marks him. A bot like him wasn’t meant to have a home, a family. He was always meant to—

"Drift."

He can feel the echo of gentle fingers, woven between his own; whispering his name between words of affection, love, desire. A soft touch and a kind smile that he doesn’t deserve, could never deserve.

He remembers.

He remembers what home feels like.

View in high-resolution

Originally from new low of my life