How are the other future parents? I could see like Pharma baby proofing everything, but everyone else? Baby’s on its own
They leave the baby to fend for itself with nothing but a pacifier. 💀 No, here’s how each parent will be like (minus Inferno and Red Alert).
Pharma/ Perceptor/ Dead-End
- Percy is actually the parent who’s super protective of their sparklings, Sparks and Malin-1
- he probably engineers stuff to ensure their safety like a baby walker that protects them when it senses danger lol
- Pharma is the parent who documents EVERYTHING (ie: first steps, first drawing, first day of the academy, etc)
- but he absolutely is also super protective of his children (he would stop at nothing to track down whoever hurt them)
- Dead-End is always confused lol
- he’s never had this much responsibility before so he really doesn’t want to mess up/ hurt his sparklings
- he’s also the parent who’s around the sparklings the most since he’s a SAHM
- they all are new to parenting so they make mistakes, but that’s to be expected
- after the birth of their second sparkling, Malin-1, they have a better grasp of parenting
Sunstreaker/ Fireflight
- Fireflight, even though is new to parenting and sparklings, is very good at it
- when Blue Jay was born, something just clicked and now he’s best mom
- he’s the fun parent who lives in the moment (while Sunstreaker thinks long term)
- Sunstreaker has experience raising children because of his younger brother Sideswipe
- he’s strict which sorta backfires on him lol (Sideswipe and Blue Jay are both rebellious)
- as Blue Jay grows, he struggles with connecting with her
- he’s a misunderstood parent; someone who really does care about his child, but could benefit from self reflecting
Blaster/ Tracks
- Blaster already has experience carrying and raising sparklings (Rewind and Eject)
- he’s kinda laidback but still enforces rules
- he’s basically the ideal parent
- it’s Tracks who struggles
- she’s the kind of parent who coddles her sparklings (I kinda imagine her being like Mary Cooper from Young Sheldon? It won’t be as bad though because Blaster does intervene)
- she baby proofs the house too
- she tones it down a little after the birth of the triplets/ second carrying cycle (they end up having 9 in total lol)
Starscream/ Soundwave
- Soundwave has experience raising sparklings (Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, Ratbat, Buzzsaw, and Lazerbeak)
- but unlike Blaster, almost all of cassettes passed away so he’s a bit of a paranoid parent
- he’s good at hiding it though (Starscream and Blaster are the only ones who pick up on it)
- even though Starscream has read hundreds of documents on how to raise sparklings and what to expect from adopting, he’s still confused
- mainly because parenthood isn’t as easy as reading a book
- basically, Blastwing is very unpredictable lol
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CRAZY CHICKS
(pharma x gn.reader)
oh my god, Tumblr won't let me save the thing and I deleted the entire post my accident 😭😭😭 thank God I already uploaded the fic to my AO3. anywhoo!! I adore the song omg it's got a new spot on my playlist <333
THIS is fine.
Oh, this is totally fine. What more could a few hours do? You've toiled through haggard days of insomnia, wrought yourself off from your dry, unmade bed that’s likely rotting in that basement (Pharma doesn’t seem to understand the prospect of human comfort “I’ve slept on metal. You’ll fare well, darling.” ) and inhaled cold breakfast that’s rooked from a can.
Surely, this proposition isn’t all bad?
The devil — he who sits before you now — has his servos in a delicately intertwined lattice. A chesire grin, glimmering white rooks clear on his face, with blue optics that creased into a half-moon.
Disconcertingly enough, he’s got the mien of a charming salesman and the only difference between those two is that at least one of them doesn’t have unethical usage of medical malpractice written all over.
"You see, darling I'm not exactly holding you hostage, here." A digit taps the datapad.
The screen flares brightly and a myriad of texts warbled into view. They’re Cybertronian and much to your un-surprise, through the quick minutes of skimming, it's a contract.
He forged your signature?
"What I'm doing, to be succinctly accurate, is providing you an opportunity a human like you is not often so offered with." He drawls. Then, catching your gaze, placating servos shoots up with feiged sympathy. "In a rather un-delicate manner, of course. Apologies."
You blink slowly. "Unethical labor." Was all you said.
"Ethical. Doesn't have to be labor, either. We're both surgeons."
"I'm a nurse."
His lips keeled over his teeth and the latticed fist clocks the desk with a vexed thump. A polite miffed look eased over his face, that very well meant displeasure.
“Nonetheless, you're fully able to grasp Cybertronian medical procedures, no?” He hooked up a brow.
“I guess. I— what does this have to do with me strapped to the chair, though?” He leans over, almost boredly, to peer at your gesture around the ropes curled over your flesh, taut and tight, docking you to the chair.
“Ah, I figured you’d be more convinced if I had handled you this way.”
You look to the ground. Up. Down. Then, up. “I’m not getting out of this aren’t I?”
“No. You’re not.” He smiled. Politely.
“And, if I run you’re still going to catch me?”
“Without a doubt, darling.”
“And if you catch me you’re going to kill me?”
He hummed. “That much, I can agree on.”
Wonderful. First, you’re stalked by your boss, now captured by your boss, now threatened by your boss. Can this day get any more absurd? Who are you kidding. Absurdity lies at an abstract form when comes to Pharma.
But you can say this, though : he’s not all bad of a fighter, and a protector is what you needed after meddling with a few of his rather unruly patients. And, so you relent— not without an amused grin which is something you should’ve clocked yourself in the skull for.
“Something funny, darling? Do indulge me in your amusement.” He leans over, the smile is now taut. almost forced. “I’d love to know the source of your pleasure.”
Don’t say it like that that, you grimace but towed on, anyways. “Nothing, you just reminded me of something.”
His wings flare up. The smile, brighter, child-like. Ah, his ego. You forgot. He lavishes himself in praises like they were gold. “Oh?”
You’re not sure if you should continue, given he’d probably keel over and die the moment you’ll concede, but he seemed so eager it was infectious.
And, strangely (you’re going to kill your self for this) you found it adorable. You could use that to an advantage. Like, getting yourself out of this poorly undisguised bondage kink, for example.
“….A song, preferably.” You said.“Can you loosen the straps? It’s kind of hurting.”
“Not a poem— but a song? Oh, I’m incredibly flattered.” He prods you on, almost giddily, with a servo. “Not often do I have the pleasure of pleasing you. Do continue. This is getting rather��interesting.”
You cringed. “….Its a pop….song?”
The grin falters, but the benign, persistent streak teetered on. “I see. What’s the, ah,” He gestures vaguely, like he’s convincing himself that whatever you said meant something important. “…Name of this song, you’re willing to divulge?”
You wince. Oh, god. Should you lie? Are you kidding, he’ll dig you a grave deeper than the Himalayas can go. He’s a master manipulator, a concierge to deception, deception at his hands handled with care , and white as they were — it’s never pure. You licked your lips. Your throat is dry.
Here goes nothing.
“Crazy Chicks.”
A slow blink. The optics fizzles out. Dim for a moment, then bright. The smile thinned. “Crazy Chicks.”
“You heard me, right.” You said nervously. “It’s a banger.”
“I am not a banger, or whatever you call it in your human, fleshie terms.” He seethes, cutting off your surprised stammer at his sudden aggressiveness. “How utterly insulting. Are you seriously diagnosing me, with this— this— unearthly, poorly fledged ailment, whoever the pitiful doctor is, inclusive of the features of a poultry?”
“It’s slang for women.” Should you say often offensive? No, he’ll gut you for that— oh god his chainsaw is sheathing. (It’s not, you’re just seeing things.)
“Why would they—“ And, he halts, staring at you for a moment before closing his optics. He kneads his face then sighs, figuring that maybe it wasn’t worth an explanation for. He leans back, a lethargic look on his face. “I appreciate the sentiment darling but I don’t see how this would remind you of me. I’m far from an organic, and I’m far from an unbridled, unculturally deranged Cybertronian.”
So you say. Was your inner deadpan. “The context does.” And, a little squeak of : “Maybe you should try listening to it?”
He seemed offended at the prospect and leans forward, staring you down with his unusually baffled optics. You’re about to call it off , even offering to grovel, when — whether it was the strange flattery that he’s, to you, reminiscent of an object to your liking, or another reason entirely — relents with a grimace.
“Fine. If you’re so insistent.” He mutters. “The least I can do as a compensation for your cooperation.”
A quick tap of his digit to his helm, you can hear the thrum of the familiar tune against his audio processors.
Oh, dear.
Where should you start. At first, the digit tapped along. ‘How typical’, he mutters before, you think he’s finally got the gist of the lyrics, rooked on the most abstruse look you’ve ever seen him don.
Worst three minutes of your life.
You’re here, strapped to this rickety wooden chair Pharma probably pulled out of someone’s ass, sweating, andrenaline pulsing at your throat. All the while your boss is left listening to your inner turmoil poorly disguised through a song, blatantly disparaging his very much unique disposition.
Pharma leans against his chair. The song is done. You’re too eager on the prospect of sudden death to look up. A vent eases out.
“Thats certainly something new. I never thought I'd be addressed this way, more so by a human, of all kinds. Ah, though it’s hard to admit…” His voice was strangely seductive, bordering on a purr, and a wide grin curled the corner of his mouth.
“That's something I can get around with.”
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