Tag: humanized

deersu:

ok this is more or less how i go about drawing humanformers

sorry this is kinda messy and cd isn’t the best example for when it comes down to it (i personally would’ve used skyfire or hound if i had to go about explaining my process) but yeah i hope this is kinda helpful???? maybe????????

puzzlebomb:

Just messy dumb sketches of insideunder’s human Hothead who I think is sort of actually perfect and too handsome for this plane of reality?? I really should have done something finished and colored and pretty since I borrowed someone else’s shit but it was like 2 am. I will one day.

I bet he likes Arnold Schwarzenegger films, even the bad ones, unironically. And is that German guy with way too many dogs. Really big, scary ones that used to be used for dog fights. But he adopted them from shelters because he, ‘admires their strength,’ and says they look cool. But he’s really actually very sweet to them and aaah. I just really like Hothead. Okay? Okay. 

“Only two people that showed up on a snow day” AU?

mllemusketeer:

(Humanizing cause I can, and warnings for inaccuracy; the author has never experienced a snow day)

Megatron tried the door, and it rattled forlornly against the lock. He huffed out an annoyed breath. “Typical.” He turned around, hands jammed in his pockets, and glared at the snow. There was only six inches of it. It did not justify a snow day. It wouldn’t have justified a snow day at home, but no, here, this pathetic little town where everything was too expensive couldn’t even deal with a little bit of snow. 

He nudged a bit of it with a toe. It hardly even counted. 

“Hey.” 

He looked up, and the massive girl in front of him didn’t so much as blink at his glare. Strika, wasn’t it? The only girl on the football team, and the one even the security guys were afraid of.

“You stuck here too?”

“Yes. At least until the next bus.” He glared at the snow again. “Whenever it gets here.”

“Hours, most likely,” said Strika, with a wry twist to her mouth. “There’s a coffee shop down around the corner. Free wi-fi and they’re not good at checking whether you bought anything. Interested?”

“Possibly,” said Megatron. He wasn’t in a mood to trust anyone. His first day here, one of the popular guys pretended to be his friend up until he shoved Megatron into one of the trash cans. 

“I do homework there,” said Strika, with a defiant look. He looked at her, puzzled, because as much as school bores him, he has to put up with it if he wants to get out, do better things. Then he realized she was expecting to be made fun of, that it was a gesture of trust, and managed a crooked smile. 

“Good. I didn’t finish the algebra assignment.”

She looked briefly relieved, then, “I did. Want to copy off me? As long as you give me a hand with Cyclonus’s stupid assignment.”

The stupid assignment was easy–he loved poetry–so he nodded, and they headed to the shop.