Fic: Stripperella - Chapter 2

Universe:  Wildly AU - Humanized Transformers
Rating:  NC17
Characters:  A lot of them.  Megatron, Starscream, Optimus Prime, Elita One, Soundwave, cassettes, Blaster, cassettes, Prowl, Jazz, Tracks, Bumblebee, Sunstreaker, Cliffjumper, Sideswipe, Coneheads, Shockwave, Sunstorm, Arcee, and probably a lot more that I can’t remember.


Reminder to check the first chapter for WARNINGS if you need to.  Otherwise, please do read on!





( There is nothing like a little sex to get the body going. )

Meme fun!

I don't remember where I got this, just that I did?   Figured it was about time I posted it. 

XD



How it works: Post the first sentence (or three) from every WIP you're currently working on, even if it's very short. Then invite people to ask questions about your WIPs. With any luck, you'll get talking about writing, and the motivation to take that WIP one step closer to completion will appear as if by magic!


Sequel to Rewards-

Bluestreak sauntered into Sideswipe’s quarters, hips swinging in an exaggerated arc as he made his way over to the red twin’s berth.  The front liner was in recharge, splayed comfortably over the foam surface, his vents coming in measured, even droughts

Across the room, Sunstreaker was sitting, optics glowing in the almost dark, watching the gunner and his shadow situate themselves comfortably, both of them, on a chair the second mech had brought in with him.





Sequel to Medic's honor-

Starscream cursed Megatron’s name for the umpteenth time as a patrol flew past his hiding spot.  He was trapped, well trapped, in a small cave, one that was barely big enough for his wings to properly spread out.  He’d carefully dug out the back of the cave so that his legs could slip into the hole and lay on his front, the only semi-comfortable position he’d found so far.  Not that that said much, seeing as he was covered in dried Energon and grit, laying on rock and dirt as the organic materials continued to grind into his joints and seams.



Untitled-

Starscream waited impatiently as his new systems were calibrated.   This was pretty much the second to worst part of coming back from the dead, the WAITING.

Because he could be out, doing things.  Being dead had no effect on his mental activities, hell, not even really on his interactions with anyone else.  It was the effect on the material world that he missed.

Edited to put Domestic Sequel, I can't believe I forgot this one!-

“Please tell me I’m not really seeing what I think I’m seeing.”

Optimus was currently in the command center with Red Alert.  The security director stifling his giggles behind his hands and the Prime dropped to his knees and lifted his arms to the sky in supplication.

The figures on the screen were milling impatiently about the entrance, one stepping forward and-

“Optimus Prime!  You open this door RIGHT NOW!  I’m not going to miss my nephew’s creation day just because you’re pretending to be a prude ass!”

.