accidental breakdown

anonymous asked:

Your lineart is so good? Your comics I hope you make a real long one soon I bet it'd look very good. I thought about one where Knock Out is looking after little Wildbreak and misses Breakdown. Sometimes he would accidentally call him Breakdown and little Wildbreak would think that's his actual name.

(thank you! wowie that’s sad. but…consider this) ;;

Breakdown was gone, but not for long. Convenience stores aren’t close when you’re in outer space. The line had been painfully long and hadn’t helped a bit. In his return he brought Wildbreak some candies. Knock Out calls the little bot over, who was busy jumping by the security video feed to see Breakdown return. He responds to his nickname, Breaklet.

otterwillow  asked:

Thought, what about breakdown and knockout going on a double date with lug and anode, breakdown shows pics of wildbreak as a bean, everyone is alive it's v happy and gay

The four of them meet in the space between iterations, the little gap between the Transformers Prime show and the IDW comics, where Breakdown and Lug never died and Wildbreak is explicitly mentioned to be their son. Knockout shows them photos of Wildbreak when he was little, before that damn combiner team of boyfriends convinced him to move really far away to earth. Breakdown reminds him that they go to visit constantly, that Wildbreak is fine, and Knockout complains about having to drive on dirt again.

Anode confesses about her “misconception” of sorts, and Knockout mentions that he has an old pal who had a role in Transformers Animated, where there were literally dozens and dozens of babies to spare. He could pull a few strings, give these lesbians a baby if they want. Lug explains the stupid plot device of LL5, and Breakdown is so pissed off about it he punches the fourth wall, giving you, the reader, a bloody nose which he immediately apologizes for.

“TF writers still don’t know how not to kill the gay ones, huh?” Breakdown jokes, but there’s a pain in his voice that all gays understand.

“Even Bumblebee, the gayest of the gay, bit the dust.” Knockout says with a deep sigh, helm in his servos. “We’re all doomed.”

“Tell me about it,” called the shrill voice of another gay, the gay king of Cybertron, slipping into the in-between with his stupid crown and cape still on, “I just hooked up a couple in TAAO and now we only have two more issues before cancellation. No way THAT’S ending well.”

“Yeah, and I’m still gonna be a ghost. A ghost!” Bumblebee’s adorable gay ghost whined from over Starscream’s shoulder, visible in this realm where death didn’t matter.

“Wait, what’s even still running? It’s just Lost Light at this point, right?” Anode asked the group, who communally shrugged.

“This sucks.” one of them said, and it didn’t matter who, because all the others were immediately acting like they were church ladies, all nodding in somber agreement.

ya srry i know y’all makin the naruto drink n drugs n smoking headcanons bc its realistic but i ont wanna hear about that shit lol

i dont like the thought of my favourite characters doing that stuff  and i’d appreciate it if we’re mutuals you tag ur smoking/drink/drugs posts because its a major trigger for me. thank you.

again in bold writing- if we’re mutuals please tag smoking and drugs

especially cigarettes and weed but also everything else

So yesterday I did a really stupid thing and accidentally triggered a breakdown in myself

So I’m having a difficult time this morning getting up and doing shit but I gotta

Prison and Paradise [klance]

commissions info [here]

read on ao3 [here]

Whenever Lance thought of being thrown into a space jail, he always imagined it would be for something larger-than-life, like liberating a planet, or being too awesome and fearsome for his captors to pass up the opportunity, and it would involve elaborate plans of extraction and other guns-blazing stuff. Instead, it was a brawl. First bar they went to on the first planet that’s inhabitants didn’t need rescuing, or tried to enslave and/or kill them, to finally have some well-deserved post-heroic fun, and trouble has found them. Well, more precisely, it has found Lance, and the others just got dragged into it, but that was semantics. Lance’s got the worst of it anyway. And you should see the other guy! Except you couldn’t, because it was somehow Lance’s fault, and the guy was not only a free alien, he was pressing charges. How boringly ordinary and unfair. How was Lance supposed to have known that girl had a highly volatile husband who really didn’t like it when someone innocently flirted with his wife?

“I can’t believe I got thrown into a space jail for the first time with you of all people.”

Keith gave him an exceptionally unimpressed look, and Lance sighed in resignation. If that guy was pissed enough not to take the bait, it was probably for the best not to push it; Lance supposed Keith could have some petty and irrelevant in the grand scheme of things reasons to be angry. He was so bored. If the others were there too, it wouldn’t be so bad, it would be just another bonding experience for the team while they waited for Allura to bail them out, but instead, he was stuck there with just Keith, because Hunk got hit on the head with a chair before he could get in trouble, and was most likely well-cared for by Shiro right now, and Pidge was in the other cell as, for reasons beyond Lance’s comprehension, this planet’s incarceration system involved height in some way. Being alone with Keith in an enclosed space made him uncomfortable.

“I’m the one who’s stuck here with looking at these slimy walls or your mess of a face,” Keith said levelly, probably realizing there wasn’t much more to do in there except talking to each other. “Does it hurt?”

He pressed a finger under his left eye, as if Lance wouldn’t know he was referring to a massive black-eye he was currently sporting – it was kind of out there, being the only visible injury out of all he’s sustained. Lance scoffed smugly, attempting an confident grin demonstrating how unaffected his was by his impressive battle scars, but immediately winced in pain, as the cut in the inside of his lower lip opened. He tasted blood and petulantly licked it away, shrugging. For all his usual whining and catastrophizing, Lance was never one to wallow in self-pity – he could be graceful about facing the consequences of his own actions. Besides, theatrical sighs and over-dramatic intakes of breath made his bruised ribs hurt.

Keith sighed deeply, flaunting his ability to do so painlessly. “Wanna at least tell me why I was punching that guy?”

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