#blurr be upon ye

[silver-dawn-draws]

This took stupidly long to do lineart for

[lemonomelette]

may blurr be upon ye

[mychlapci]

My very hilarious shockblurr baby incident

Yes baby looks like a mix between blurr and shockwave

BUT, Shockwave would use the atavism phenomenon

Or just says that he changed paint job because purple is too decepticon-ish or something

He's glad that the sparkling mostly takes after blurr,hence the blue optics

Thank primus for the face that he blessed upon the sparkling,a perfect blurr copy

Sometimes you just be glad that you have weak genes in the first place

oh it would be so funny if the baby came out with minimal Shockwave features after all that stress Shockwave went through. Blurr has a tiny little blue-eyed blue and purple sparkling, and "Longarm" hurriedly assures him that Uh, yeah, he's got that purple coding in him. Why isn't he purple? Uh, it's a dormant code. Or something.

But you know what would be even funnier? If he got so into making sure the baby doesn't blow his cover that he accidentally blows his cover himself. Way after he's been caught, the baby comes out and it looks mostly like Blurr, and he's just forced to live with the knowledge that if he'd waited, if he'd let it be, he would still be living as Longarm...

[hypn0con]

Woe blurr upon ye

[ask-monster-men]

Sea shanty

Borealis x male reader

Summary: the reader is a pirate who's singing sea shanties along the dead night of the sea...seems someone else hears

Warning: violence, blood, monster, murder, monster eating a human? (Literal not metaphorical)

The night was cold and the seas were calm, you where wrapped up quote nicely as you starred mindlessly out at the waves that gently crashed upon the side of the ship, rocking it gently.

The work and life of a pirate was to be frank horrible, the food was wreched and the salt used to preserve it only fueled your thirst for clean drinkable water...to bad your surrounded by salty water.

Sometimes you ponder if the salt had gotten to your fellow pirates as they started to ramble about creatures and myths, complete nonsense to you...but the way they looked so utterly petrified as they spoke shook you in a way.

A chill went down your spine as you tried to shake the skeptical thoughts out of your head and just focus on relaxing, a whistle had started to sing from your lips as the cold air started to strike at your body.

Somewhere in the water a creature lurked, stories of his existence had rattled the pirates and started rumours. The creature heard something sweet, a song...a human whistle.

A part of him wanted to immediately rip the human to shreds and another wanted to quietly listen to its sweet song while it lasted...still he couldn't stand to have the human ships in his territory, no matter how sweet the song is sang.

He popped his head out of the water and viewed a man leaned over the side of the wooden vessel by himself, he squinted harshly and quietly scaled the ship. He carefully carried his hulking body up the ship in a way the human man couldn't spot him, his attention ed turned to a door...a door headed straight to the dorms.

He felt that familiar hunger inside of him and he instantly gave in, practically rushing and barrelling himself down the stairs causing you to instantly look over only to see a blurr go into the dorms.

Confusion and fear struck you as you instantly flushed your back against the side of the ship..."what the fuck?" You breathed out shakily as everything your fellow crew members warned you had come and hit you like a truck...and then the screams came, men yelling and cursing, the sound of riping and tearing bullied your ears.

You covered your ears and collapsed onto the ground as it became all to much, a cowards move you knew but what else could you do?...you started to whistle. For some reason as a way to perhaps comfort yourself you started to whistle.

The creature...borealis. he had head this and half way through ripping someone's torso in half he stopped, his head perked up and he looked up the stairs to where that sweet sound was coming from. Slowly he climbed up the stairs like a preditor, the door had long since been ripped on the hinges.

The silence was almost worst than the screams...you knew they where all dead, all your friends who where practically family had all been ripped to shreds and devoured.

You opened your eyes to see this thing stare at you, his eyes wide and predatory, his body was big and purple with stripes of a darker purple with a yellow belly patch that climbed up his neck, his arms all for of them...no wait all 3? One looked like it had been ripped of violently a long time ago.

Borealis didn't know why but the human whistle calmed him, it made him curious and attracted to the source. He starred at this small human man, a pathetic sight to him as humans did nothing but disgust him...but their songs where so so sweet.

He thought about ripping this humans head off...hmm yes a quick kill would be fit, he stood up and reached his full height, 8ft at the head and 11 at the horn/crown. He walked towards the human man, blood dripped and poured off of him as his steps drew closer; he watched as the human man started to squirm in fear and terror.

[ivecomeforsouls]

Chapter 2 - Breath

Time handed his daughter off to Emery once the sun rose. He had tasks from yesterday that still needed done. Two thought kept his mind occupied as he accomplished them. One, what would the twins name's be? And two, his daughter had colorless fierce diety markings on her face. All the markings were there, even the ones he didn't have, and they were barely noticeable. Similar to Twilight's tri-force symbol, it was as though she'd had those birth walks slightly tanned before she arrived. He wasn't sure what to make of those.

Eventually, he pulled himself out of his yhought to focus on the tasks at hand. But when he did, he noticed something odd. We're those...footsteps?

----------

Malon waited with the twins as Emery left to deal with a customer in the barn. No she had no idea what to name them. She'd forgotten about that part. Her son was in a bassinet by the bed, but her daughter was in her arms. Having hit her head a little as she was putting her down, the baby was now crying with her little infant wail...or she was. She was now holding her breath. Mouth open and mid-wail, she was o longer breathing.

Emery, the very young midwife/nanny, had warned her about this. She said lot of things, but staying calm was one if them. It was also the only thing her former pregnancy-brain could remember.

Her daughter still refused to breath.

"Emery!" Malon was hesitant to call Emery away from the customer, especially knowing that she was specifically told not to panic.

"...Emery!!" Malon was scared now. Several minutes had gone by and baby continued her dramatic episode.

"Emery!"

"Comming!"

A hint of blue touched the baby's lips.

"EMERY!!!" Terror struck. Fearful tears began to blurr her vision as Emery burst into the room.

----------

Time was on the other side of the ranch, still following the footsteps. It was a little suspicious how obvious the trail was. He continued down the path anyway, until he came to the edge of the fence where the trail seemed to end. He leaned over the fence, but as he was looking over the cliff, the ground opened up beneath him, swallowing him whole.

----------

Emery swiftly closed the distance between herself and the baby. Leaving the baby in Malon's arms, she blew fast, hard, and sharp once on the baby's face.

She was breathing.

Tearfully and trembling, Nalon looked at Emery. "That's it? That's all I had to do?"

Malon cradled her daughter closely, and Emery put a smaller blanket over her shoulders. Sitting on the bed with Malon, Emery rubbed her back in an attempt to help her calm down.

"Yes. That's all." Emery wasn't from Hyrule. She had arrived a couple months prior to Time's return, and tended to Talon. He'd had a stroke and the doctors couldn't help him walk, or talk at all. She was able to give him and Malon one last chance to talk to each other again, and their conversation lasted almost half an hour before Talon finally passed. She was then hired as a ranch hand upon Time's arrival.

Emery stayed next to Malon until she was able to put the baby down. Once all was settled down again, she headed down to make dinner.

----------

Previous | Next - comming soon

[plaindangan]

Chiaki has a little bit of a competitive streak due to being the Ultimate Gamer, so naturally, after watching all the girls on the island go to the beach and seeing their massive wobblewagons jiggling and clapping with as little as a step, Chiaki takes it upon herself to give the whole beach a nice twerk show. She wouldn't want to fall behind, and so she tries her hardest to win at the game of twerking too! Sitting on her fat, wobbly ass gaming all day has its perks after all.

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

Chiaki wouldn't say she was competitive...

It's just that...clearly this was a game!

Yes! That's it!! Every other girl in her class was clearly competing with each other to have the thiccest, spongiest, wobbliest, ass out there on Jabberwock Island!! Chiaki can't just lag behind them, not after seeing the other seven flaunt their asses all day!!

Peko rocking that thong of her's that had Fuyuhiko eager to put his 'sword' in quite the jiggly sheathe. Ibuki and Hiyoko pantsing Mahiru and Mikan respectively to grope at their meaty target with impunity - all while pretty much teasing some of the other guys with their own pair of clappers as well, bending over sensually to get a rise out of them. As for Sonia and Akane, the former was flirting with Gundham by purposefully shaking her rump as he was trying to rub suntan lotion into it, while the latter had stripped off her bikini bottom to 'train' with Nekomaru by giving him an assjob to remember~

Clearly, this was a challenge from the others to get her own butt into gear!!! And into gear she did!!

I mean, what else can you call constantly gorging herself on junk food, doubling down on late night gaming, and even taking up squats, right? All for the moment of the next time they went down to the beach, Chiaki would have went ahead of them. Face down on a blanket, ass up and legs spread apart in a Jack O' pose. She was wearing a white bikini thong...but one couldn't blame anyone for not noticing. Not with those enormous, jellyesque, oiled-up moons nearly encasing it. Moons that Chiaki wasn't afraid of shaking about in a blurr, technique honed from watching the others strut their stuff and and videos she's watched online. But was it enough to win the hearts of Class 77?

Well, given how most of her friends were either breathing pretty heavily, masturbating themselves/fondling someone else, and/or cheering the loudest they ever could...safe to say Chiaki now held the highest score for this little 'game'~

[signanothername]

Something that I noticed recently about HW and that I absolutely love is how he lets sleeping dogs lay. Whenever he has a conflict with any member of the family, the moment that conflict seems to be resolved, he lets it go. For example, with Chase in Rules and Regulations. This is one of the few, if not straight up only times HW and Chase get heated (I don’t really count the time Chase got hurt, since it wasn’t really interpersonal), but after the episode, HW always puts the extra effort to meet Chase in the middle (All characters do, and considering Chase is neurodivergent coded/ heavily autistic implied, that’s such an amazing thing to show kids 💙) Blades is another good example, after the video game incident he doesn’t give Blades grief over being scared. Even when before it was more low key, after it almost stops. It’s so interesting considering the type of character HW is supposed to be. The only character he seems to keep beating with the stick is Blurr, and let’s face it, he needs it. Damn, Rescue Bots character writing really is something else.

Anon you fucking get itttttt!!!!!

Like I wholeheartedly agree, I even touched a bit upon how different he is as a hotheaded character before

And y’know, that’s the thing I love most about HW as a character

When I first started the show, I genuinely thought that the direction of HW’s character is gonna be the usual hotheaded character that never apologizes, never takes responsibility for their actions, goes against orders, and so on, and I for one genuinely thought HW is gonna be a character I’d hate cause of it, but as I watch more and more episodes i’m genuinely baffled (in a good way) by how Heatwave is written

Yes at the beginning of the show you see these usual traits of what Hotheaded characters are like in HW, (and it makes sense to see them as HW IS a hothead), in ep3 he blames Boulder and Chase when Cody gets upset with him for making fun of Blades, in ep10 he ignores Charlie’s words about thinking of people first and takes matters into his own hands, etc

But what’s baffling (again in a good way) about these traits is the fact their occurrence is very far in between each time it happens, like i want you to let it sink in that these traits are not even the norm for Heatwave, the norm for HW is to take responsibility and accountability for his actions, actually try and learn from his mistakes, is very serious about his job, is protective of those he loves, and it genuinely made me question my sanity, like AYO? What the fuck is even HW’s character

But the answer is simple, he is a hothead yes, just not what you’d usually expect a hothead to act like, and I for one think it’s amazing

I love when shows actually take character tropes and twist them and put in their own touches on them, not only does it give a refreshing take, but also gives a lot more depth to the character

You’d think HW is the type to hold a grudge, or be so into proving he’s right while others are wrong, but nope, this boi actually takes a step back when he makes a mistake and admits he was wrong, HW learns from his mistakes and tries to improve himself, and doesn’t that make a lot more sense for a hothead like him?

Hotheaded characters usually try to be the best at everything, and wouldn’t he be become better and better if he actually admitted his mistakes rather than live in a fantasy that he’s just right all the time?

That aside, speaking of meeting Chase in the middle, you’re so right, and it’s really beautiful, not only that, but for a heavily implied autistic character like Chase, he’s always shown to be competent and more than capable on his own, and I actually think that’s pretty important to show, the world needs more autistic characters like Chase

The thing is with HW, is the fact while opinionated, he still tries to put the comfort of his friends first and that’s such a wholesome thing about him

During the argument, HW actually tries to do what Chase asks him to do, HW could’ve easily used his authority as the leader to simply order Chase to follow without attempting to contact Kade, and the thing is, Chase would’ve followed the order even tho he doesn’t like it, and HW knows it

But HW relents and actually does what puts Chase’s mind at ease and does try to call Kade, and I love it so much

HW tends to do that a lot, he doesn’t force anyone to do something they don’t want to do, the only times he does is when their saftey is a priority

A lil something I want to bring attention to is HW’s tendency to use the phrase “that’s an order” around Chase, HW knows Chase is obsessed with following orders, especially when it’s directly stated with an emphasis like that, but what i love oh so much is the fact HW never abuses that kind of authority and especially not with Chase, he RARELY uses it, and of the few times he did? He used it to make sure Chase doesn’t put himself in danger

The greatest example of this is ep5 of S3 “unfinished business”, HW uses “that’s an order” 3 times in that episode, the first is when they need to go to stasis cause of the energon eater and Chase protests cause he wants to help the people of the damaged ship, HW says “into the stasis pods, now!” then adresses Chase specifically saying “Chase, that’s an order!”

The second time is when Chase hears the message again and tells HW they need to get back, HW is rightfully suspicious and thinks that, hell na, nobody’s going anywhere and especially not stubborn Chase so he says “no Chase, and that’s an order” only for Cody to convince HW to let Chase go

The third time is when Chase and Boulder are about to take the Sigma and are saying goodbye, Charlie tells Chase to “be careful, come back soon” and HW follows that by saying “that’s an order, Chase”

See the pattern? Every time HW uses his authority it’s when he’s worried and wants to keep Chase safe and oh my god does it melt my heart

Of course, Hw still sometimes misuse his authority like when he tells everyone they’re not allowed to celebrate Allspark day, but what I also love is the fact he never truly tries to force them, he just tends to voice his displeasures and grievances

Same with Blades, but in Blades’ case HW is never worried about his saftey cause he knows Blades’ values it, but as you said he does get a tiny bit harsh when it comes to Blades’ anxiety/fear, but then by that point of the video game episode, he realizes he misjudged Blades’ bravery and even goes as far as telling everyone what happened, and you can tell by his tone how proud he is of Blades, HW never says “I’m sorry” outright, but he does show regret and tries his best to fix his mistakes, and repair any damage they caused, he even calls Blades “the bravest of them all”

And just as you said, he lets sleeping dogs lie, he never tries bringing it up again or giving anyone a hard time for something that happened before, he just moves on

Hw taking a step or two back to genuinely consider his approach with things is what makes him a great leader, and an even greater friend, and that’s why you can see his growth so clearly in the show, i’d easily say that by S4 he’s a lot more gentle, considerate and patient than when the show started

As for Blurr?? Damn I actually feel bad for both him and HW, but Blurr makes it really hard to deal with him, and HW might’ve become a lot more patient but he’s still not that patient wheeze

Y’know in a way I feel like HW sees himself in Blurr, at least to an extent, so he does give him chances to get better, but Blurr keeps fucking up due to his reckless nature, but it’s obvious Blurr thinks highly of HW and genuinely wants to make him proud and HW seems to want to actually train Blurr to be a great rescue bot cause he sees that potential in him

The only problem is that these two are too hotheaded to effectively communicate, one wants to be carefree and not to be bound by rules, the other wants this carefree spirit to watch out and actually look at the world around him

Blurr has the “everything is against me” mindset and rarely takes the blame for his actions, and I think that’s what angers HW the most, HW wants Blurr to slow down and actually take in the situation and understand where he fucked up, but Blurr is really bad at seeing the problem and I believe to some extent, is cause Blurr thinks a bit less of himself

But my favorite thing is actually seeing Blurr getting better at taking responsibility for his actions and slowly becoming a better rescuer

The thing is, HW is a bit harsh on Blurr, but does give him credit where its due, when Blurr took the Sigma only to turn back to save GR, HW admits he misjudged him and even seems to genuinely regret being so harsh on him, when Blurr gets on the ground HW is conflicted about whether to yell at him or hug him and i find that really adorable hchcchch

But you can tell how HW is way gentler while dealing with Blurr afterwards, the frustration is still there but he’s become more patient with him and is a lot less demanding and it’s nice to see how their relationship develops from there, hell, even when Blurr fucks up time and again afterwards HW simply asks wtf he’d been thinking but the way he controls his voice and tone, it’s amazing

Anyway, you’re so right the character writing in this show is fucking fantastic, it’s honestly its greatest strength and I’d literally die for every one of them, they’re my beloved <33333

[serotoninisheldinkiwis]

been thinking abt @keferon 's mecha au and woe silly guy upon ye

i raise to you! mecha pilot arcee! from high-school teacher to mecha pilot, she's had one HECK of an interesting career path! her focus in her mech actually isn't combat- it's more evacuation and rescue! that doesn't mean she can't pop an invading quint if she has to, she's been trained in battle, but while mecha like jazz' and blurr's take point in fighting she helps injured people and crowds get away from the fight safely! her mech is one of the smallest and most compact for ease of maneuverability, but she is the most annoying wriggly glitch to exist because of this <33

[eldritch-araneae]

Can you make a list of Bumblebee's best friend (bot) in all versions such as animated, Cyberserve or prime?🥺

Hi, I was a bit confused ( like you want me only list bots, not humans?), especially if you want only the continuities you listed or all of them? Anyway, I'll do all bc as I was thinking about the answer I got some interesting thoughts. So prepare your tea and sit comfortably ~

Generation 1

In G1 cartoon they made it seem like Bumblebee just gets along with everyone. But I can't remember if Bee had someone among bot who we could consider his best friend. This title really went to Spike exclusively and I know you said to list bots only, bear with me here.

This fits into Bumblebee's struggles, because he's weak, but humans weak too so he feel he belong with them more than his own people. And Bumblebee still friends with Spike even after the human grows up and has a family (and the fact its the only time they show passage of time like this with a human character?)! We don't see Bee a lot on later seasons so I like to assume he just hangs out with Spike's family most of the time.

It would be so dope if they actually explored the idea of human mortality and how cybertronians would handle the invertible. But it never happens in canon even in "serious" continuities. And same even in fandom spaces. I only once stumbled upon the fic where Bee gets super anxious because Spike is getting older, really long time ago. Of course I wrote a story about this, but still, I can't be the only one thinking about this. In G1 based comics it's kinda the same thing, except IDW where Bumblebee has NO FRIENDS ( nor bot or human). Like he had some pals in the past, but he lost them all. In IDW2 there is Windblade who was established as Bumblebee's bestie but they way it was written... it was very cold friendship judging by panels I saw. Not a fan. Ah yes, I didn't watched the Netflix version, so idk, but considering how writers decided to deconstruct the character for no reason I can assume he has no friends at all.

Bayverse

I can's really say anything, I watched only first and second movies and again, Bee was bonded with a human. Same with Bee-movie, I know it's not technically bayverse, but sadly, Bee has the same the design and I still can't watch the movie bc of it xD

Animated

This is very clear that Bumblebee bot bestie is Bulkhead. And if both Bumblebee and Bulkhead were written better we would have a really dope character dynamic. Tho their dynamic is fun even as it is ( Bee crawling all over Bulkhead like a spider is Halloween episode cracks me up), but sadly Bee just never develops as a character.

Prime

I can't say anything about because I didn't really watched the show. I started, didn't liked it and dropped it. The entire aligned continuity isnt really for me, so I skipped Rescue Bots and RiD15. Though, I did like "War for Cybertron" game a lot, and maybe I would watch Prime if character designs were from that game. In the game Bee didn't had any besties.

Cyberverse

Here Bumblebee has bonds with few bots. First one is Windblade and I absolutely loved it. Their relationship was amazing and warm and physically tactile, and that's how I started ship them. Then we see Hot Rod and, now deceased, Blurr and later Bumblebee bonds with Cheetor.

This show had so much potential, like the buildup in S1 was nice and well established dynamic between Bumblebee and Windblade, but then it was all thrown out the window. Windblade was sidelined entirely in S2 as Bee hands out with Hot Rod and Cheetor ( as it's the typical all boys gang no girls allowed) after all this demonstration how close those two are in S1?? Meh.

And when Cheetor sacrifices himself? Bee looks sad at this moment, and then moves on like thing happened and it didn't affect him? What is this?? Ugh.

Earthspark

Right it's too early to say, but we can already see that Bee has a very sibling-like bond with Arcee. And from the trailer it looks like Bee is good friends with Breakdown which is interesting. Maybe he was the reason why Bee picked the racer car after his VW Beetle mode? We will see~

I think it's all? There is Shattered Glass too, but I have no idea, cant say anything. I hope it was enough)

[ananinidraws]

Trick or chatical John

Woe, Chatical John be upon ye <3333

Alt version without blurr

[mischiefisme-amess]

Okay you know fucking what. I am so goddamn done with the mental health system rn and I cannot even begin to express how annoyed I am. No wait. Yes I fucking can. I probably already complained about this when it actually happened, but the results are upon me and I can't be bothered to try and find the fucking post I made.

So everyone and their mum has at this point heard the "Don't wait until your mental health deteriorates, get help the moment you know something is wrong!"- thing yelled from the bloody rooftops. And that's what I did. I did that, okay? I tried to get help. I went to my school psych like the good little bastard I am, for unrelated reasons at first which amounted to my teacher being a bitch, but I went anyway.

And in addition to getting the pardon from doing presentations that my teacher required, I mentioned my other problems. Like oh yea, there's autism in my family and also I don't feel real like half of the time :)))).

I cannot put all the blame on the psych, I think she did try. But what I didn't know then, is that I am a quite heavily masking person, as is common for afab people. I basically accidentally made her think all was okay automatically, while desperately trying to get help. And then there was like 3/4 year period where I did not know how to unmask at all I was trying to go through the diagnosis. Luckily, I got transferred to youth department of the mental health system. Lucky me.

I was trying to get help because I was getting more and more tired all the time to the point I skipped WEEKS worth of school at a time because I was so tired. I had to leave almost every class "to go to the bathroom", because I kept getting too overwhelmed and then dissociated. I told these professionals this, and they just gave me a sympathetic smile and told me it sucks and then gave me like a slip that lets me leave class to calm down if I want to and use headphones to not get overstimulated. I told them I have to swing for atleast an hour every day just daydreaming, or I'll feel horrible. They just went "well that's totally fine :D". NO IT ISN'T? I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR HOMEWORK?

Then they asked me what I wanted out of the diagnosis. I went "idk what I can get, I guess I just want to know if I have autism or if there's something else wrong with me?". What I needed was help with pretty fucking obvious incoming burnout, but I didn't know how to put that to words well enough I guess. I told them what was happening and guess what they fucking told me? GUESS. FUCKING. WHAT. They told me there are people who need help more than me and that I'm not getting a diagnosis because confirming it takes resources away from people who need help more than me.

...

They said that to my face. In my native tongue of course, but that is what they said. oh...

(That totally didn't make me cry for like 30min at my appointment in front of the psych. Totally didn't make me feel completely humiliated. Totally didn't make me feel like I was just seeking attention.)

I was trying to stop myself from burning out and they told me others have it worse. And then they first reduced my meetings. And then I aged out from the youth department and had to go back to my school psych. It was a different one now, actually changed again once. Now I had like a vague idea of how everything worked. I tried being more open and I tried so fucking hard to tell them what was going on. One of them said I should call a health center to try and kick up the diagnosis thing again. Cool okay yeah. Problem: calls are the one thing that makes me almost as uncomfortable as holding presentations.

It's been over half a year. I graduated. I'm so dissociated it makes me feel dizzy, my head hurt and my vision blurr. I daydream hours at a day, every chance I get I'm either engaging in an activity, or actively daydreaming. The second I stop doing something I'm just gone.

Fucking thanks a lot.

I really should call, but I can't bring myself to do it.

great.

[transingthoseformers]

Soundwave knows and disaproves. But he doesn't want to start a riot. His reports have alluded to Autobots being adult framed younger and younger. But he can't say how young since they still need the Allspark and time to gain the numbers needed to take the Autobots. Autobots are smaller than in years past because new sparks cant sustain a full sized fraim and the loss of genetic diversity.

The Autobots Won by their reckoning in that they drove the Deceptacons off of their home world. The Deceptacons dont consider the fight truely over.

Ohh dumb thought TFA Lockdown as the Ratchlock sparkling.

Damnnn so Shockers knows, but he (currently) can't do shit against it.

Makes sense that they're smaller if just because their sparks aren't able to support a larger frame yet (makes me wonder if any of our mecha would choose a larger frame later on, I know multiple people have thought about that for Optimus Magnus)

With what I've seen of tfa no yeah the autobots shoved them off of Cybertron then put their hands over their ears and said "Oh Yes! The War is over, and our enemies are vanquished because we say so". Leaving the decepticons to simmer and scheme because "What the fuck, that was our planet too, and This Solves Nothing."

Okay but the idea of Lockdown being a ratchlock kid suggests that Deadlock/Drift (there's a design for tfa Drift, he's still an ex decepticon, apparently he willingly changed sides after seeing Horrors™️, and his autobot frametype design is based on Blurr's. Buuuut it is explicitly stated that he downsized from a decepticon typical frame to an autobot one) was the carrier and he raised Lockdown himself. Considering both of their mercenary roots, this somewhat tracks

This, however, upon reevaluating our timeline, would require that Deadlock met Ratchet either before the war or very early in it's progression, considering how Lockdown was in an adult frame when he met/tortured Ratchet and Arcee that one time. Which considering the first phrase in tfa Ratchet's timeline thing is "Millions of years ago,", we might have the room. Ratchet's so fucking old.

Also, apparently, tfa Drift was at one point part of the Cyber-Ninja Corps under Dai Atlas, very probably after he left the decepticons. Tfa Dai Atlas is apparently one of Yoketron's ex students and the general of the tfa elite guard. At least the wiki says Yoketron is old as shit. Lockdown also trained under him at some point or another. From what I can gather, Prowl is younger than Ratchet by quite a bit, but still definitely older than the other members of team prime.

Babygirl I'm not sure that idea will work

[buzzards-sticky-fingers]

don't look at me 🫣🫣🥴🫠

saw this post and had this ficlet unfold in my head. sort of a sequel to this first doodle and features this finial thing

Smitten.

Blurr chews on the word in irritation, holding himself perfectly still as Red Alert delicately corrects the dent across his forehelm. The only parts he allows himself to move are his fingers, the left hand drumming steadily on the medbay berth and the right spinning a small navy triangle. That little chip of blue metal should be inlaid at the center of his forehelm, but the dent had popped it right out.

He very carefully doesn't let himself look at the door over Red Alert's shoulder, where a massive shape shuffles awkwardly.

Smitten, the past participle of smite, an equivalent of smote, as in smote with a mighty blow, smiting enemies on the battlefield, smitten with disaster. To be smitten is to have something inflicted upon you with great force. It is being on the receiving end of doom, and praying that doom is the sharpness of emotion instead of a weapon.

Blurr winces as the seams across his temple realign with a snap.

Perhaps being smitten with these emotions is simply a natural consequence of being bludgeoned in the face, and that bloom of absurd fondness he still feels is in fact the symptom of a concussion.

"Give it here," Red Alert mutters, holding out her hand. He deposits the chip in her palm and she aligns it with the hole in his helm. It's still just slightly deformed and resists sliding back into place under her thumb. He'd twitch if he weren't so focused on staying still, fingers going rat-a-tat against the berth.

Too intent on keeping himself frozen for the medic, he lets his gaze flicker over to the door. The soulful, embarrassed apology in the big yellow optics looking back at him strikes him immediately, and he has to grit his dentae against a blush.

Stricken, another violent word for what should be soft. To strike right for the spark, a fatal blow, all being fair in love and war. Struck dumb with affection or struck dead from mortification, or maybe vice versa with the way his luck has been going. Love-struck, even. Blurr spins the wheels in his pedes in some halfhearted attempt to speed away from the threat.

Buzzard is still watching him. They grimace and mouth "sorry" for the third time. He can't meet their gaze for fear of some further stupid reaction bubbling up inside him, but he looks everywhere else. Their spindly finials click against one another in waves, and the rotors on their back twirl one way, then the other. He follows a line down their arms to where they nervously tap their talons together, and then traces all the way down their legs to where they’re swaying back and forth from one pede to the other. Fidgeting with their whole frame, as usual, except for their wings. Those stay tucked tightly to their sides.

He squints at the corner of the wing that laid him low and swallows a grumble. Of course they aren’t even scratched.

The itch to test that assumption tingles in his fingertips, drumbeat faltering on the berth as he imagines running his hands across the trailing edge of their wing, skating up the flat plane to the faulds around their hip—he catches up to the errant thought and squashes it with a scowl. It earns him a thump on the brow plate.

“Hmm, Buzzard,” Red Alert says. “Would you help me for a moment?”

“Me?” they say from the doorway. “Are you sure I can?”

"If you can manage to resist clobbering Blurr in the face again, yes."

"It was an accident," Blurr defends Buzzard before they can reply. The raised brow Red Alert gives him in return makes him shut his mouth before he can wax poetic about the junker's natural enthusiasm, their full-body glee almost infectious—again he squashes the thought and grumbles "Considering the proximity, I should have dodged anyway, I would've been quick enough."

"And why didn't you?"

He'd been too busy watching Buzzard's face light up in delight at something-or-other to notice them fling out their arms and wings until he was flat on the floor with a dent across his helm, but that's none of her business.

Mercifully she turns to Buzzard. "Which of your finials is thinnest?"

"Oh, uh…" They tilt their head and thumb through their lopsided finials, popping out a long pink one. "Here."

"Hmm. This will do." Red Alert takes it and scorches it with a quick sanitizing beam from her prosthetic. "I need you to leverage it into the gap right here while I work this inlay back in. See how it's just a little concave?"

"Yeah." They have to bend over a bit to get a good look. This close, their flightframe height is almost intimidating, even with Blurr sat up on the berth.

There's no reason to feel their gaze so keenly on his armor. He determinedly chalks it up to lingering soreness. Even when their optics flicker down to catch on his own, and he has to cease his drumming entirely to clutch the lip of the berth so he doesn't do something stupid like reach out and touch them, he reminds himself that this is Buzzard, a teammate, who looks at him every day. Yes, maybe lately he's been a little hyperaware of the moments their gaze finds him, and he might be increasingly self conscious about what they're seeing, and it's entirely possible he's more uncomfortable with the imperfect state of his rebuilt frame under their scrutiny rather than the injury itself… but that really, really has nothing to do with the way he stares wordlessly back at them, enthralled, like a cervinoid in the headlights. Truly.

He could blink at any time.

Red Alert thumps him on the brow plate again, breaking the spell. "Quit craning your head back like that, I need you facing forward."

Enthralled, dear Primus, as in captured, captivated, made a slave to fascination. He certainly feels like a mindless thrall, following some subtle compulsion rooted into his basal code. It’s ridiculous. He used to be so level-headed!

The medic wedges the shiv-sharp end of the finial into the corner of the hole in his helm. It would be uncomfortable if she hadn't dulled his sensor net already. He wills himself to stay still just a moment longer, rat-a-tatting his fingers again and staring at Buzzard's wingtip at his eye level. Surely they don't need to stay this close—

"A little closer, if you please." Red Alert grabs Buzzard's hand and guides it to his helm. "I need you to provide just a little counter pressure when I slip this back in so it sinks home, otherwise it won't fit correctly and I'll have to do this all over again."

"Um. Okay," they say uncertainly. With two knuckles they stabilize their hand on his helm, and with their thumb they put just the barest hint of pressure on the lever of their finial. "Like this?"

"Perfect."

Blurr is pretty sure his internals have ceased functioning all at once. Even through the dialed-down nervous circuitry, Buzzard's touch blazes against his armor. The scant few sections of his processor not melting down are mourning the days when this would have been utterly unremarkable instead of the mortifying highlight of his week.

"Is this painful?" Red Alert gives him a concerned look. "Vent, Blurr. Has your sensory suite rebooted?"

Venting, right. He should probably try venting again.

"Sorry," Buzzard says softly for the dozenth time.

"I’m fine. You're fine. It’s fine," Blurr croaks.

They glance at Red Alert as she tweaks the corner of his inlay before lining it up with the gap. "Couldn't you do this with your interlink?"

"Not completely," she mutters as she concentrates. "Any hard-light projection can be cut off, so it would simply fizzle out if I had it pressed between two edges like this. I have specific tools for surgery, but this hardly merits breaking out those..."

"Wonderful," he says, pedes pitter-pattering against the side of the berth in an attempt to drag his attention away from Buzzard touching him. "I'll endeavor to avoid any and all injuries, shall I, if our medic doesn't believe the loss of a body part merits the use of proper medical tools—"

"And proper medical procedure." Red Alert gives him an unimpressed look. "You skip half the steps in every recovery plan I give you, I wasn't about to let you make a mess of my medbay just because you got impatient with the sanitation process. Buzzard, a little more into the corner. There we go."

"It was a very small body part, at least," they tell him, finials twitching upward. "She's only got one more edge to fit in."

He can see the hope in their face trying to buoy his mood, as if he's irritated at the injury instead of how besotted he knows he must look right now, over what?? Two measly points of contact?? It's humiliating and thrilling at the same time, and his wheels spin erratically with nervous energy.

Besotted, that's another one he didn't think of earlier. Rendered idiotic, made drunk on infatuation, stupefied to the point of hilarity. He's certain it couldn't get worse if Buzzard actively tried.

"You have a very sleek frame," Buzzard says, clearly trying to give him a stroke, glancing between his face and forehelm. "Knock-out did a good job. The one corner is just stubborn because it's not quite straightened, but normally I think it'd pop right in. All neat and clean-edged. It wouldn't be a problem if I had just..."

They frown and bring their other hand up to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing gently down the line of aching metal where their wing had scored his helm. "I promise I'll try harder to pay attention to you."

Nevermind, it got worse.

Is this what spark implosion feels like? He's certainly hot enough to plausibly be experiencing spark implosion. Blurr sees Red Alert's suspicious expression out of the corner of his unfocused optic but can't spare the emotional capacity to worry about it at the moment, not when Buzzard has both (both!) of their hands on his face. They're still frowning. They shouldn't be frowning, why are they frowning while looking at him?

“Y-you—you, you pay attention to exactly what you need to," oh no he's babbling, "which is quite frankly what I should have been doing instead of—it wasn't you failing to pay attention that caused this and I doubt it would be wise for my sanity to ask that you focus any more on me, so really don't set aside your energy to try and protect me when you have so many other things to be paying attention to, like your rocks or your sticker pages or any of your collection—I don't even know what all you have in your collection, it's impressive that you can keep track of so many pieces with such detail which is reason enough to decline your promise, you shouldn't be holding yourself so tightly when really it was my own responsibility for my safety—and how could you promise to focus on something that clearly worries you when you could instead keep looking at what makes you happy, you should be happy, not frowning, you're still frowning and I don't know why!"

With every word, his jaw presses just a little into Buzzard's palm. Did they catch any of that spiel? Was it intelligible? What was he saying again?

Red Alert gives him a look. "Were we supposed to understand those noises?"

Blurr has no attention to spare for her, caught instead by Buzzard. They blink a bit, frown easing into confusion, or heavy thought, or something solemn and serious when they should be light and free. Their thumb runs down his cheek this time, and he knows, he knows it doesn't mean much, they're equally touchy with Necro and Gremlin and anyone else who tolerates contact, but his spark still jumps in its chamber.

"I understood it," they say softly. "Thanks, I guess, um. It's not that I need to watch you all day or anything, but... I don't like hurting you on accident, Blurr. I don't like hurting you at all."

"You were expressing happiness," he insists. "and I was being stupid. A dent is worth it."

They're back to frowning, shaking their head with finials pinned down. "No, that's not how it works. I'm not happy if I'm hurting my friends, y'know?"

"This," Red Alert says drily. "is a uselessly circular conversation which can be easily had anywhere else on the ship."

Both Blurr and Buzzard look at her. "You're done?" the junker asks.

"I was done before he finished word-vomiting."

"Oh," the two of them say simultaneously.

Red Alert plucks out the makeshift lever of a finial from under Buzzard's fingers. "Here. If you want to use that guilt in a productive manner, you can check that hoard of yours for any spare transistors, I need a couple."

"Uh, transistors? Yeah, I think I've got... hang on." Buzzard sticks their finial in their mouth for a second to rifle through their cockpit.

Blurr watches them blankly, cheek still warm where they were touching him. He raises a limp hand to feel at his forehead before Red Alert bats it aside and wipes his browplate with a cloth. He hadn't even felt the little chip snap in place. It couldn't have been missing for more than fifteen minutes, but his processor is spinning from an emotional marathon.

Buzzard closes their cockpit and hums in thought. "They're back on my shelves, I think. Gimme a minute."

"Thank you. Try not to dent anyone else on the way over," Red Alert says. They give her a sheepish smile and then duck out the door with one last glance at Blurr.

It may be wishful thinking, but he's pretty sure their wings were no longer huddled so tightly to their sides.

"Well?" the medic asks him a few moments later. "You're healed. Will you sit there staring at the wall all day? I thought you'd be halfway across the ship by now."

He runs a thumb across his helm and can barely feel a dip now.

"It isn't as if I doubt the quality of your work as a medic, Red Alert," he begins cautiously. "and believe me when I say I'm grateful for your skill and care, no matter how abrasively that care may be expressed at times—"

She raises a brow. "The point?"

"Would you mind checking for a concussion again, please?"

"Why?"

Because he wasn't this hopeless half an hour ago. Surely his refurbished neurocircuitry had been rattled into insanity. It couldn't be genuine, a single touch shouldn't be making his spark pound just at the memory of it. And all over Buzzard. They are just. Just. It has to be a concussion. He opens his mouth to confess just how unbalanced he feels, simply helm over pedes, utterly crazy about the very one who nearly knocked him out, and just barely manages to swallow the building monologue with the most impressive feat of self control he's accomplished in years.

"I feel... woozy."

Red Alert guffaws. "Yeah, I could tell!"

He hunches into himself on the berth, fighting another blush at feeling so uncomfortably seen. Despite the wry look on her face, Red Alert runs a quick check, testing the vibrancy of his optics, his sense of balance, his memory.

"You appear to be functioning optimally," she announces, like he was dreading she would. "No processor issues apparent. If it weren't for the particular faults of your current frame, I doubt you would've gotten much more than a light ding in the first place."

Crazy, then. Crazy about them, or driven to insanity, and just all of a sudden aware of how far down he's spiraled. Keen on them, twitterpated, out of his mind, lovesick. Is this going to be a reoccurring problem? Should he start accounting for loss of processor power in their presence? Could he accidentally end up staying too long around Buzzard and dropping all higher function until he forgets the need to escape entirely?

That actually doesn't sound too bad. Now he knows he's going crazy.

"You seemed pretty intent on not letting Buzzard take responsibility," Red Alert says as she cleans her workspace. "Staring at them the whole time, too. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're smitten."

He freezes on the edge of the berth, flushing purple.

She glances at him with a half-smile, like her statement was supposed to be ironic, but it drops when she sees his expression. "Wait. Hang on, you actually—?"

But Blurr is already halfway down the hall outside the medbay and picking up speed. He doesn't stop running until he's clear on the other side of the ship.

This whole... love thing, it's rather violent, and destabilizing, and uncomfortable. Buzzard is—well, not perfect, but close enough, they're certainly not the problem here. He can't help but feel the accidental victim to an oblivious perpetrator, squeezing his spark like a stress toy while he's putty in their hands.

Actually he doesn't much mind the thought of their hands on his spark, and wonders if they ever think of that, of letting their touch explore further than armor—he smacks his newly repaired forehelm with a growl as he squashes the thought.

Clearly, being in love is an uphill battle. It's not very pleasant from his perspective, with Buzzard winning handily without even trying, as far as he can tell. He huffs and shakes himself out a bit, trying to find some semblance of equilibrium again. If he weren't so smitten then maybe he'd stand a chance, or if they were on even ground and Buzzard was smitten... Blurr closes his optics against the rush of warmth that thought elicits.

Right, then. If he's going down, he won't go down without a fight. Buzzard shouldn't get all the victories here. Time to start punching back.

[drawing-myself-in-and2-death]

yes it's technically Wednesday now, so logically my response would be

suck my balls.

it's my blog,my concept of time, I haven't slept therefore it's still Tuesday

Happy Tuvok Tuesday!!

he would hate this post for it's lack of accuracy and blatant self indulgent delusions and disregard of the linear and agreed upon divisions therein of the passage of time.

however I offer that those are in fact arbitrary, he would appreciate the insueing conversation about the nature of time

now all of you go look up some words and be overly verbose and incomprehensibly specific this fine Tuesday blurr-ning

happy Tuvok Tuesday, lads

[starr-s-labs]

helloooo dr moon!! How are you doing today? :3

I’ve been a little bit curious about this, but with all the advertising Starr’s been doing about the chips and what they can do, I’d assume that it’s something your department works on?

if it is, care to impart your wisdom upon us? Doesn’t have to be anything big, just maybe a less erm- Scott brand advertisement-esque version of what they can do.

he’s nice, just a little um. Dramatic

-Yuri

Oooooh this is also a very good question!

And first of all. Hello there! I've been doing quite fine today, I had a turkey sandwhich, how are you?

Second of all. Yeah for sure! I get the thing with Scott, he's not for everyone ig :/

Okay so while my department did work on the chips, *I* wasn't one to get hands on with the whole thing- I help install them, yes, everyone is required to know how to do that and how they work. However yeah, personally didnt make em

And i cant exactly tell you how theyre made/work internally cause thats classified info. But!

They hold vitals of the person who has them (name, species, race, district, age, etc).

They control memories (sorta like memory blockers, they work as sort of walls preventing everything to flood back in at some stuff, yknow allow to delay big stuff cause realisticallly we know a lot more stuff in the enviorment theyre put in could trigger flashbacks, they kinda prevent that or blurr it out more.

They can technically cut someone's life short- a lesser known fact about em! The chips can at any point in time kill off your favs. We are forbidden from doing so, of course, but it is a possibility. We do have plans to implement this in future seasons as a mechanic but you gotta wait for that one :)

Oh yeah along with keeping track of people's vitals- forgot to clarify. They keep track of their heart rate, and can tell us if theyre alive or not, then that immediately sends out a tweet to update the official socials. It also notifies Scotts and other higher ups in case it happens while live on tv.

Oh and if you ever get send to or for some reason apply for a future season? And you got diabetes, heart problems, etc etc. The chips will provide you with doses of insulin or any medication you may need. If you just gotta get ur sugar levels up a lil we'll make it so you have sugar cravings w/o even checking, in case you didnt realize yourself (? So dont worry about dying from medical problems, that'd be lame as hell to watch haha so ur good

And of course: theyre what connects the participants to their lovely live chat or "voices", as they call them. Fun fact that was all their doing, we didn't intend for the voices to specifically be called so or even sign off with names or numbers but- I guess thats the wonder of reality tv! Things happen so naturally and its perfect

I think I've said enough? If this post gets edited later I got a bit ol scolding from Dr Tay...

-Dr Moon (S.T.A.R.R)