I wrote these between 2009 and 2010, first time posting them here on ff[dot]net. Did these for the music meme. I've split these into three chapters each: chapter 1 will contain drabbles from the G1ish universe, chapter 2 is all about Animated, and the third chapter has drabbles from the movie!verse. Enjoy!

Put your entire music collection on shuffle, hit play, and write. Write for as long as each song plays and move on to a different writing when the song switches (even if it's mid-sentence). Go for ten songs (or five). If nothing comes, it still counts. If you're listening to a comedian, you can skip it.

I don't own Transformers, and I don't own these songs. I sort of "own" them in the sense that in some way or another, I have them on some form of media, and probably procured them in an illegal fashion. But that's neither here nor there, right? Right. I suppose I also own any random background characters too.

Overkill -by- Metallica
Swindle lived a dangerous life. Of course, he could have always settled down and get a nice job behind a desk, not ever getting shot at, or threatened. But where was the fun in that? Or the money. One mustn't ever forget the money.
Despite his hefty-sized bank account, the mech lived in low standard conditions. But then again, one couldn't really live like a king in New Kaon City. The combined danger of his living conditions and the risks associated with his "job" always meant that his personal security was number one. His defenses needed to be top-notch.
Carefully loading a big gun in place between the mech's armor plates, a young femme, his current partner-in-crime, asked, "D'ya ever think it's too much? Like an overkill?" She gestured to all the weapons around them.
He grinned and cupped her chin, "My dear, the overkill is what it's all about."

Playing With The Boys -by- Kenny Loggins
Flying was a wondrous source of freedom, especially from her idiot "brothers". Dubbed as Femmescream (much to her chagrin, as well as to the original Starscream), she maintained a simple role between creator and clones- mediator. After all, if it wasn't for her, the idiots would have been scrap metal for messing around with the wrong bots. It all sounds so simple. Be their sparksitter. Simple, yeah right! She rolled her optics.
"Hey girlie," the egomaniac clone, Thundercracker, zoomed up through the clouds, interrupting her thoughts and peace, "We're supposed to be doing practice flights, not aimlessly wandering about. But then again, you are quite inferior, being a femme and the whatnot."
Femmescream growled, fists balled, ready to knock the slag right out of him.

Looking Back -by- Yiruma
Optimus spent a great deal of time looking back. As a leader, he often looked to his past faults and constructed ways to correct these glitches. One fault that he was having trouble with, the same one over and over, the same damn fault that almost offlined his comrades, was Blackarachnia. The techno-organic weaved herself around in his CPU and refused to move out. It was a big fault, a big distraction, and a big regret. But being a leader, he could not have faults, much less distractions.
When he had finally had it with her childish games of cat-and-mouse, Optimus walked straight to Ratchet. "I need you to go into my memory core."
"What for?"
"Something glitched. Needs to be erased, stat."
Memory core wipeouts? It was something the veteran knew too much about. He would argue against memory loss, especially of one who once meant something so much, but who was higher up on the chain of command, he, or the Prime? With a heavy spark, Ratchet agreed. "Understood, Prime."

Slow Jamz -by- Kanye West (ft. Jamie Foxx & Twista)
Life in Detroit was no longer the interesting roller coaster ride of good transforming robots versus bad transforming robots. Things became as they were- normal. Even the criminals got back into their usual hustle and bustle, now that the threat of giant robots had been removed. Jails were eventually destroyed in a fit of blue-collar labor union anarchy. Robotics factories were also points of destruction for the union agenda. Slo-Mo stood on a cliff, staring out at the burning factories. It was the blurred progress of technology that had caused all this. Technology just had to learn how to take it slow.

Real Big -by- Mannie Fresh
Sari wasn't quite sure of what to expect when she first came to Cybertron. Robots, obviously. A world similar to Detroit- cities fully mechanized. Basically, that's what it was. She also found that Cybertron had it's share of what she likened to hip-hop subculture- bots that transformed in low riders, gold spinning rims on tires, kickin' radio systems with thumping bass components that blasted fast-paced Cybertronian music, something that resembled fluffy plush interior (for whom, she wasn't sure that she really wanted to know)... "They're pimpbots." Jazz explained to her, as she stared mouth open in shock, at one of the aforementioned pimpbots (his paintjob resembling leopard print) smacking his glitches and hoes.

Plowed -by- Sponge
Rock 'n' roll is bad, it'll poison your mind! Parents have been screaming the same words to their offspring for decades, fearful of sex, drugs, and the wild lifestyle of deviance and debauchery that the music genre encouraged. Soundwave took note of the natural teenage rebelliousness that humans seemed to possess and worked it to his advantage. Rock 'n' roll no longer encouraged sex and drugs, it demanded that they destroy, dismantle, kill, anarchize, and worship their robot masters.
All in all, the kids really should have listened to their parents.

Bleeding Love -by- Leona Lewis
It was a rather warm and sunny day in Detroit, but instead of facing the risk of being covered again in parking tickets, Ratchet decided to take his stasis nap inside the Autobot base. The other bots had gone off to take a pleasant windshield-warming drive around the city before the rush hour, leaving Ratchet to finally have some peace and quiet in the normally hectic base. Yes, nothing but peace and quiet for the next few hours...

Until a loud noise erupted from the speaker system.

Optics flashed on, a grunt and a groan elicited from Ratchet as he scrambled off the recharge bed and rushed to the main area of the headquarters. "It couldn't be Soundwave again, could it? No, too soon!"
"Hey Ratch." A voice greeted him from below. The medibot nearly tripped over himself. "Sari?"
"Yo."
He blinked in disbelief, suddenly putting the pieces together. "You're the one messin' with the speakers?"
"I'm not messing with anything! I simply recalibrated the input broadcast signal so I can get my favorite radio station to play here. I gotta win these tickets they're giving out! I figured Autobot technology would be my best bet to get those tickets." She replied matter-of-factly.
"Sari-" Ratchet was about to give her a stern elcture on the importance of keeping the radio clear for emergency broadcasts, when she shushed him harshly. "I just gotta wait for them to play the song, okay Ratchet?"
"Hmph."

A few commercial passed on, and the obnoxious DJ made a few announcements about this, that, and whatever. It was too confusing for Ratchet to bother with, all he wanted was some alone time before the rest of the crew would return. To his left, Sari let out an excited squeal. "There's the song!" She pressed a few buttons and began to connect to the radio station. Ratchet listened to the music, unimpressed. The female singer had already started singing the chorus lines when Ratchet decided to interrupt. "Sari, are you hearin' this glitch?"
"Shh!"
Somewhat defeated, he turned back to the communications console. The female singer sang out, "I keep bleeding, I keep keep bleeding love..."
"Yeah? Well go see a doctor!" Ratchet yelled back at the speakers.