You want a sparkling, right?
“Well yeah. I like ‘em pretty well an’ all. But ah don’t just wanna like.. take someone’s bit, yanno?”
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You want a sparkling, right?
“Well yeah. I like ‘em pretty well an’ all. But ah don’t just wanna like.. take someone’s bit, yanno?”

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*chucks a giant purple medicine ball straight for the head. with my luck, it'll hit something else*
It definitely did hit something else--missing the mech’s helm entirely and slamming right into a doorwing instead. The breeder freezes, optics flashing white under his visor and there’s a moment of temporary blindness followed by intense dizziness. He puts a hand out, grabbing whatever is close by for support and then exvents heavily.
“What the everloving scrap is wrong with you?!”
I like springers nick name 'hotstuff'
“Well, ah get a lotta nickname’s ‘bout mah frame. Ah ain’t ashamed.”
All Jazz really needed to do was lean forward and press a kiss on Hotshot's helm, nothing too crazy as he pulled away with a grin. "How ya doin'?" (sanguiinx)
@sanguiinx
The doorwinger gave a soft purr, a rumble of his engine while his doorwings fluttered on his back. It wasn’t much, such a soft, gentle kiss but he appreciated and desired the contact all the same. “Ah’m doin’ well.. been cleanin’ all day, prettyin’ the place up--ah think ah forgot ta even take a break.” He said with a shy chuckle, but he was happy, Content.
📓 (autobot-and-proud)
It’s a datapad, smaller than most but otherwise looking nondescript. Hotshot slid it along the table, sitting back in the mech sized chair he was in and a shit eating grin lit both his visor and face. “And you thought I couldn’t get ya the info, shut down the gig, and be home in time for curfew.”

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Cutie---
“Naaah--”
Like the big bots with big chests who also arent the brightest of the bunch
“...what’re ya tryin’ ta say here. An’ before ya answer that, y’better think real hard bout yer response.”
Pretty eyes
“Ya think? Ah don’t keep ‘em out often..”