Shit i've messed up my document titles and im confusing myself on my computer now. LOL

anyway, did a 10 comment Meme on LJ and got 6 people throwing prompts at me, and here's the result.

First three are non-smut, last three are total shameless Prowlcentric smutfests.

Nothing is spell checked, this is all just spat out as is with minimal re-reading and fixing stupid auto-correct fuckups.

First one: listen to '1234' by Pitbull on Youtube lol.

second: PROMPT: 'Upon unanimous agreement, The Glitter Incident was never to be repeated nor spoken of ever again. This, nevertheless, wouldn't stop the Twins from trying it on the Decepticons a year later.'

third:I like Warpath, but he acts sped. which is probably why i like him.

forth: Wow totally in a mood for that one, thats my massively soft side right there, ffffffffff i do love fluff in the right situations.

fifth: I quite like Prowl x OP in any verse, works to me, especially done in the right light. Id've done G1, but TFA came easier.

sixth: go read WICKED3659's fic on LJ first, it's worth it, it's called 'Word of Mouth' . here's a link, take out the spaces: http: //wicked3659. livejournal. #cutid1

The drabble is based on that fic and is a SPOILER, and it really is an awesome short fic, so please do go read it!

K well thats about all, Death out~


ProwlxBeexSunny G1 ~mewmew_kaitie

"C'mon Bee, I know you have it in you, just one dance! If it's gonna be any song tonight make it this one, pleeeeeeease-"

"OK, ok, but I swear Jazz, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm just going to look like an idiot."

Bumblebee replied resignedly with a sigh of his vents.

The saboteur beamed at him regardless, nearly skipping back into the middle of the Rec. Room with the spy in tow.

The mechs on the 'dance floor' took little to no notice at the inclusion of the yellow minibot among their ranks.

Bumblebee moved self consciously, not doing much more than stepping to the beat and doing a few small arm movements. He smiled at Jazz, who was pulling his usual fluid (and flawlessly fantastic) dance moves, fitting right in with the lights and Blaster's audio shattering music as if he'd been manufactured for this.

"Now I know you can do better than that Bee, just listen to it… ya can do it in mah quarters, it's the same thing here, 'cept ya let it really move ya, and forget about anyone else, they ain't important." Jazz purred to him, dancing close and giving him a smouldering look.

Bumblebee gave him a weak smile and bit his bottom lip. Only for Jazz would he agree to make such a fool of himself. But if it made him happy…

The minibot really listened, and found he quite liked the heavy beat and the tempo. He had watched Jazz dance all night… it wasn't like he hadn't picked anything up. He started attempting some of the sequences the Porsche had been using as staples. He fell into a pretty easy rhythm… it wasn't as bad as he had imagined… in fact, it was coming quite easily to him now.

He threw Jazz a look and noticed the saboteur was positively beaming at him again, watching him and giving out a triumphant laugh.

"That's it Bee, you got it!" He called over the music.

Bumblebee would have replied, but something flashed between them and blocked Jazz from his view.

Bumblebee's dancing stalled slightly, until he saw it was Sunstreaker who had started dancing in front of him.

The challenge in the golden toughliner's optics was also an invitation, and Bumblebee flashed the Lambo twin a saucy smile, knowing any sign of his less meek side perked Sunstreaker's interest.

Bumblebee soon found himself lost in the music again, hearing Jazz laugh incredulously as he danced with Sunstreaker, who's moves were decidedly more erotic that the yellow spy's.

Bumblebee giggled, catching Sunstreaker's darkening optics and Jazz's melodramatic look of hurt at being ditched by his dance partner.

Suddenly, Sunstreaker's face went blank and he paused mid move as he went to body roll against Bumblebee.

The golden warrior's optics were fixed on something behind the spy, and Bumblebee turned to find…

Prowl?

Prowl's expression was slightly aloof, door-wings swept back in a 'V' and his optics a deep cerulean… an expression Bumblebee had come to realise was jealousy from the tactician.

Prowl held out a servo to Bumblebee, expression not faltering, but optics flashing enticingly at him. The minibot could have sworn there was the barest hint of a smile wanting to break through the façade.

Bumblebee gave Prowl a curious look and took the proffered servo.

:Keep your channel open, I'm going to wirelessly stream you some moves:

Bumblebee's optics widened as he allowed the taller black and white mech to sweep him away a few steps.

:Er, OK… you know moves?:

Prowl gave him a crooked smile in reply and his optics flashed again.

:I couldn't be with Jazz and NOT know moves:

Bumblebee could only nod in response before he locked onto the wireless data signal the tactician opened with him and began executing the commands. The technology was usually employed by the tactician for battle manouvres in tight situations, but apparently he knew how to utilise it for recreational means as well, something that surprised and delighted Bumblebee, and he wondered if Jazz knew.

Speaking of Jazz, Bumblebee flashed the saboteur a smile as the Porsche stood on the sidelines, watching them, dumbfounded.

Bumblebee winked at him and continued to do what he suspected was some form of a human dance called a rumba.

Had he not then been entranced by the sight and feel of dancing with Prowl, who was stunningly agile on the dance floor, that cool, aloof look still firmly on his face, he may have noticed half the other mechs on the floor had stopped to watch them, many with mouths agape.

"Jazz… is… is Prowl… are you… did you do this? Are you trying to fritz our processors or something?" Sideswipe asked over the music, sidling up beside the now smiling Porsche.

"No man, this is all them, I had nothing' ta do with it." Jazz replied happily, optics never leaving the sight of his lovers performing a steaming hot routine.

"I think… I think Prowl just threw down the gauntlette. At ME." Sunstreaker said incredulously from Jazz's other side.

"Nah Sunny dude, you threw down the gauntlette, Prowl just picked it up and slapped ya in the faceplate with it." Jazz laughed, glancing around to find Tracks and Trailbreaker had joined them immobile on the sidelines with looks of gob smacked disbelief on their faceplates.

"I think you lost bro." Sideswipe sniggered as Prowl did some close contact moves with the beetle, Bumblebee's optics getting dark to match the tacticians.

"Well ya know what they say, if ya can't beat em, join em!" Jazz laughed, jumping forward to join his partners.

It took Sunstreaker another moment to process the situation before Sideswipe tugged his elbow and gave him a determined, evil grin before they both jumped in to try and regain the minibot's attention.


Twins/Decepticons - G1 'the glitter incident' ~Nike_victory

"Hey Starscream…"

"What Skywarp? Can't you shut your vocaliser during battle manouvres? Concentrate on hitting Autobots!"

"But, don't you see that?"

"…See What?"

"Those… sparkly things coming towards us?"

"Hey…. He's right Starscream, there's something…it's all glittery… theres two…"

"Primus, if it's bothering you, shoot it!" The air commander said irritably as he looped around with his wing mates, turning to see what on earth had them spooked like Petro-rabbits.

After a moment of adjusting his optics to the sudden glare, he registered the sight of two large, undeniably shiny objects heading straight for them from the ground.

"Hey, that looks like-" Thundercracker rumbled warily.

"And are they…" Skywarp mumbled.

"…covered in Glitter? What the frag, those pit-spawned Twins have really lost it!" Thundercracker said not a little bit apprehensive sounding.

"Don't you two dare break formation! Attack already, attack!" Starscream screeched, opening fire on the two sparkling Autobots jetting their way.

"Ack! My targeting array isn't working!" Skywarp hollered, nearly swerving into one of his commander's tail stabilising wings.

"My visual scanners are getting messed up, what the frag!" Thundercracker barked.

As the twins came upon them the seekers were unable to avoid the attack, so dazzled were they by the reflection of the bright sunlight off the expanse of both twin's brilliantly glittery armour plating.

"Well, I'd say that was a resounding success!" Sideswipe chimed as he lay on his front on a medical berth while Ratchet grumbled and worked to patch up a hole in his lower back.

Sunstreaker shot him a murderous glare as he rubbed furiously at his own armour with stripping solvent.

"Until the 'Cons who weren't close enough to have their sensors dazzled noticed us and we became nice big glittery targets. By the way, 'Sides, if I can't get this all off with one bottle of solvent, I'm going to find some sealing agent, change your sparkles to pink, and then laquer the lot so you can't get it off." Sunstreaker growled, sneering in disgust at the swathe of gold sparklies that came off his plating and onto his cleaning cloth.

"Yes, I do suggest that we shelve the dazzle-armour tactic permanently now, it doesn't seem to work as effectively as we'd hoped… apart from that it's rather messy." Prowl said nonchalantly as he brushed red and gold glitter specks off his arm while he sat in another berth with Wheeljack re-attaching one of his door-wings.

"Still say don't knock it till you try it. I reckon Jazz would be all over you if you did." Sideswipe said mischievously, craning his neck around to see the tactician give him a stony look with one orbital ridge raised.

"Pfff. Are you kidding? Jazz has way more taste than that. Glitter paintwork is so 119th megacycle." Sunstreaker drawled at his brother distainfully.

"It might be outdated, but you guys shoulda seen Ironhide back then, he made it look good like no mech's business." Ratchet piped up with uncharacteristic cheer.

The four other mechs shared blank looks as the image popped into their processors, and a silent agreement seemed to form that the topic was over and would never again be raised.


G1 Warpath -moody ~Flamingmarsh

The red Tank sat hunched on a couch in the rec. room, sipping his energon alone.

Every bot he'd met today had asked him if he was OK.

He couldn't even go to his shared quarters for some peace, Brawn wouldn't quit giving him those weird concerned looks.

Honestly, you'd think he wasn't allowed to feel a little less upbeat. OK true, he usually had something to say and an enthusiastic onomatopoeic word to express his good mood, but Primus, he just didn't feel like it today. He kinda wanted a bit of… peace and quiet. Yea, his name was Warpath and yea, most of the time he was up for some action with energy to spare, but today he just needed a break.

But he couldn't get one, because everyone on the Ark seemed to think he was just a one-dimensional grunt who liked to blow slag up.

Well, he did like to blow slag up, but right now he felt like doing it because he was annoyed rather than for the thrill of the energy rush.

You know, BLAM, I would be slaggin OK if no-one, POW, asked me if I was feelin alright. BLAM, it fried my circuits that they don't think there's, BOOM, anything more to me than the weapon-happy-tanker, ZAP. He thought to himself, feeling distinctly more surly as he finished his cube and decided to head over to the target range to blow some stuff up and make himself feel better.


G1 Prowl x Bee ~regretfuldragon

Bumblebee gasped and vented long and deep as he rocked against the berth under the white and black frame. His small black servos stroked lovingly over the white helm, cherishing and intimately detailing the brilliant red chevron that dipped to accommodate his reach, it's owner running tender kisses over his helm and horns.

Bumblebee hitched his legs up further, letting out a soft, blissful mewl as Prowl plunged deeper into him with slow, powerful strokes, lighting up his sensor net as he filled his valve. It was so intense, so heady, Bumblebee lost himself in Prowl and likewise the tactician drank In the yellow spy's cries of delight, loving utterly the way he moved beneath him, their plating scraping as their ecstasy built.

They didn't need words anymore. They needed sensations, they needed the thrum of the other's life force, and as Prowl hilted himself in the minibot and connected to him, their chest plates parted in synchrony, both gasping and clutching at one another.

Eagerly they pressed close, the tactician careful not to settle his entire weight on his partner as they closed the distance between their sparks.

Their essences reached out to one another, and even as they came together so keenly in body, their sparks seemed to connect almost tentatively, gently, melting slowly and wonderfully into one another as if to savour the motion entirely.

The two mechs moaned and cycled quick vents against the others plating as pure, indescribable pleasure came from the completeness of the bond.

Oh, no mech on the Ark would believe this was true, probably not even if they witnessed it first hand, but Bumblebee felt nothing but pure devotion to Prowl, a feeling echoed mutual through their merged cores. Both had sides that no one else saw, had hurts no one else could heal, and nothing had ever fulfilled them like this.

Even as overload exploded through their joined frames and sparks, they clung to one another as though they never wanted to let go, each the salvation of the other, almost loving that this was their secret…. Their own private saving grace. They didn't care if no one knew, or understood, or would ever. Nothing mattered except that they could remain like this. A better idea of their future, neither could imagine.


TFA Prowl x Optimus ~wicked3659

Prowl wished he cared more about what he was doing. By all rights, with his circuit-su training he should have more self-control, but…

He didn't want to control this. He didn't want to think anymore, thinking wasn't getting him anywhere, he wanted to feel again, he had felt so alone, and so cold, wandering space with no purpose, no real idea of where he was going or what he'd do once there. Just that… endless and unobtainable goal to find his spark.

Well, his spark didn't seem to be objecting too much to what his body wanted and was getting right now.

It would bother him more that he was being lavished with attention by a mech he'd barely met, but something in the commander had struck a chord with him. This Optimus Prime… a title that was merely a nod to the completion of his training, but a bot with ghosts and grief who wasn't at all where he should be. Yes… Prowl could definitely sympathise. He could sympathise so well that he was currently digging his fingers under Optimus Prime's plating, eliciting a gasp and a shuddering moan from the larger, powerful mech.

Prowl allowed a mewl to escape his own vocaliser in turn as the not-quite-Prime delved his spike gently deeper into the ninja-bot's long untouched port.

Prowl felt himself constrict deliciously around the other mech and he bit down gingerly on the plating of Optimus' shoulder, his body quivering from the hips as delicious and long forgotten sensations of ecstasy thrilled through his systems.

He knew it was merely a carnal pleasure, but he had to admit, as Optimus 'faced him with obviously experienced skill and tenderness, he would gladly pay the penance of a hundred cycles of meditation to clear his mind to experience this again.


Wicked'verse- 'Word of Mouth' Prowl x Jazz ~zomgitsalaura

Jazz was bored. Supremely bored. And tempted. Oh so tempted. It was a dangerous mix. But only for one mech in particular.

Prowl was addressing the humans on the other side of the video conference.

There were only 5 mechs in the meeting room. Optimus, Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet and Ironhide. Jazz figured he'd get away with it.

Prowl was having what Jazz was sure was an intensely interesting conversation about field stratergies with several army generals, who miraculously seemed as engaged by the subject as the black and white door-winger.

Smirking to himself, Jazz decided it was time to test something out that he'd been curious about for a while.

He discreetly extended a link up cable from his wrist and connected into a port in the table console that connected wirelessly to their internal note making and textual information sharing. It was easier to scroll each other messages via their intra-net connected data-pads and consoles while speaking aloud with the humans, that way they could run several discussions and topics and ideas at once without interrupting the human's side of the meeting. Cybertronians could multi-task much more efficiently than the organics.

Whether they actually did so in an efficient manner was a matter Prowl would attest to as being a major problem. More often than not, the side conversations texting across their data pads had nothing to do with agenda items and involved more idle chit-chat and running commentary than anything. Nevertheless, Prowl watched the silent conversation of his comrades out of the corner of his optics even as he spoke to Major Herssey about the most efficient means to organise a counter strike in the event of a Decepticon attack upon the larger power stations in Europe.

Prowl's attention flickered to the text window of his data-pad as he noted Jazz had entered the silent conversation at last. He had expected the saboteur to be quipping things throughout the meeting, but up 'till now he'd been silent. Therefore, he read curiously the Porsche's silence breaking comment.

:Hey Prowler, that plan of yours sounds pretty sweet.:

The humans gave Prowl a curious look through the vid-feed as his vocaliser faltered and a strong shudder ran through his frame.

Ratchet spared the tactician a curious look, but the other mechs in the room seemed not to have noticed, apparently having tuned out the SIC breems ago to the point they didn't notice him falter.

Jazz, on the other servo, grinned wickedly.

Apparently the trigger worked just as well when Prowl read it as when he heard it.

Jazz quickly schooled his faceplates into blank but polite interest as prowl reset his vocaliser and threw him a filthy look.

The moment Prowl turned back, Jazz allowed his face to break back into it's wicked grin.

He realised Ratchet had caught his expression. The Medic didn't send him a text reply as comprehension dawned on the red and white's face, but Jazz could tell from the look in the CMO's optics that he was not going to discourage his behaviour.

Jazz posted one or two more comments with the trigger word hidden in them, but Prowl, door-wings held high and stiff, refused pointedly to look at his data-pad anymore.

Jazz bit his bottom lip, smile only getting bigger and visor a deeper blue. The saboteur easily hacked the vid-screen which displayed information transmitted from the humans to the Ark about their battle plans.

A new piece of data was streamed across the screen, and Prowl's optics automatically darted to it to super-speed absorb the new data-packet. He had a micro-klik to frown before the message was processed…

:The way the humans include the contingency plan for possible injuries to us and how to get us to safety is kinda sweet.:

Prowl gasped and made an ungainly static-laced chocking noise as he staggered very slightly back into the table. He grasped it hard, door-wings quivering violently. His cooling fans gave a loud whirr before settling to a quieter pace as his systems reset.

Not only were the humans now looking at him utterly bewildered, this being the second time his dryly delivered tactics had been interrupted mid-sentence, but other mechs in the room had noticed this time.

Ironhide was giving Prowl a look like he'd just said something about planting flowers around the Ark, Optimus gave him a curious, if not slightly concerned look. Ratchet had an evil grin to match Jazz's, enjoying the diversion quite as much as the saboteur was.

Prowl mumbled a small apology to the humans as he straightened, wings twitching and arching high in a 'V' as he turned his back on the screen and glared at Jazz, lips pressed tight together.

Jazz gave him an innocent smile and canted his head slightly to the side as though enquiring what the problem was.

Prowl's optics had gone dark and he was obviously struggling to keep his frame from quivering and fans from kicking on full-bore.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to convene our conference sirs, it would seem I have some personal matters to deal with. I will get back to you soon to arrange an appropriate meeting in the near future." Prowl said curtly, turning to collect his data-pads, giving Optimus a very brief formal salute to ask permission to leave, which the Prime granted him with a look of deepening concern in his optics (he hadn't seen Jazz's messages).

The humans had given him curious looks and nods, and Prowl turned on his heel, leaving with a ram-rod straight back-strut.

Just as he reached the door and palmed it open, Jazz looked over his shoulder and called. "We'll miss ya sweet-spark."

There was a clatter of falling data pads as Prowl tripped out the door with a loud cry, crashing to the floor while Jazz and Ratchet sniggered heartily at the poor mech's expense.