#i hate everything about this thanks!

[lucabyte]

my favourite big-hatted not-men with giant holes in their brains where their memories should be (and their kinda-dead doubles called loop/lup)

+bonus doodles because thinking about the taz balance cast for 0.2 seconds reminded me how much i like themmmm

[ominous-horse-noises]

anyway i want to reiterate that i hope the rat grinders are tpk'd, revived and uncorrupted solely bc i want them to have to spend senior year together. 'redeemed' doesnt necessarily mean friendly with the bad kids and honestly? its so much funnier if they continue being bitchy to each other but without the trying to end the world stuff. they've built plenty of positive relationships w/ former villains now it's time for the next stage: uneasy alliance buzzing with the tension of both sides trying to hold back the urge to clown on each other

introducing, fantasy high senior year: the group project

[chewyhanniebug]

Buckle up kids because I'm pissed off and have a few points to make.

Obviously @raeisms doesn't need me to fight her battles for her. That's not what I'm trying to do. She's perfectly capable of sticking up for herself, and she has been, but it's getting ridiculous and I want to speak up about what this is leading to.

Fandom spaces are dying. Pushing people to stop creating is the cause.

That isn't a stretch. It's a fact. Not understanding boundaries or purposefully stepping over them is a massive chunk of the problem. It isn't just here, but this is already such a small community and pushing away artists/authors—people creating things for free with the purpose of enjoyment—is killing it. Artists and authors are, and always have been, the heart of fandom. Without them there is nothing.

Fandom etiquette has been left behind and forgotten. Ages are skewing younger and I don't care if I sound like a silly old millennial for saying that's also part of the problem. There's older people this applies to as well of course, but I've seen so many barging in who just don't understand how this works because there's so little guidance anymore. Again, not just here. It's happening across all platforms to all fandoms and it's terrifying.

What happened to "don't like, don't read" and using filters to curate what you want to see? What happened to thinking for two seconds about whether something you say could be hurtful and then not sending it? What are you trying to prove? I can't stress enough that you are the reason this will all stop existing.

TL;DR if you want to keep this space alive, grow up and learn some fucking manners.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: babies!!!! you’re also referred to as “ma” once

okay but like,,,,,first time dad Bakugou giving his baby their first bath after coming home!!! you’re fluttering around the kitchen, trying to make sure you have your daughters towel ready, her baby safe soap, a tiny washcloth, that her teeny tiny pajamas are in the dryer.

it’s only when you take a second to ask Bakugou something do you finally just—pause. your gaze instantly softens, a lovesick smile inching on your face as you watch your big buff pro hero husband hunch over the kitchen sink.

your daughter is resting in the baby bath seat, lilac colored and reclined back. she squirms when Bakugou lets the warm water run over her naked, fat little belly. her face scrunches at the new sensation, fists balling up against her chest. he coos at her, gentle,

“I know, ya little princess. Feels weird on ya, doesn’t it?” he asks her, voice so small under the running water. he cups his hand, holds a handful of water, tilts her fat cheek up to let it slide in her neck rolls that always smell like milk. she whines at that, sniffles and hiccups before she cries. you go to take a step forward, to console her, but Bakugou is so patient.

“It’s alright,” he kisses her tears away. “Daddy’s just tryna help you.” he runs the water all over her body, and paired with his softly spoken words, does she finally quiet after a few seconds. her little body trembles with the aftermath, pouty lips puffy and he can’t help but smooth his hand over the softness of her face.

“Yer a crybaby, just like your ma.” he whispers to her, grinning when that breaks you out of your stupor to smack him on the shoulder. you both laugh at that, and you finally feel the peace that is your little family. you lean against Bakugou’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his jaw before looking at your daughter again.

“You’re gonna be a great dad,” you mumble into his skin. he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his shuddering breath, and the calmness that blankets the rest of your house.

[webothblackedout]

i don’t remember who but at least one of sam nivola/patrick schwarzenegger (although i would guess sam just based on the tone of a lot of his comments) has said they think lochlan and saxon just never really talk about what happened again and their relationship never rebuilds but i just simply do not think this is true. i think there has to be a breaking point. and i think the text supports this; even after the “let’s just drop this forever” conversation, saxon and lochlan still look at each other knowingly when tim mentions the lack of trauma in their family’s lives during the murder piña colada toast. that’s not “dropping it forever”! and the fact that it’s not even a full day before they’re acknowledging it again to each other tells me that this breaking point isn’t going to take a very long time to reach. i give them like a month at most before they’re tearfully making out in their shared room at the holiday inn express or wherever they’re staying post canon

[erinwantstowrite]

God I fucking HATE TRINITY UGH. TOM KING GET AWAY FROM WW COMICS GRRRRR

extremely valid and also im using this post as a backboard thank you <33333 wonder woman fans, here's a poll:

there are probably more options here but i just woke up a little bit ago. i would appreciate any and all insight, there are no right or wrong answers. if it helps to know my standpoint, i think Lizzie as a concept isn't terrible and her design is cute, BUT!!! i don't appreciate her actual written origins and believe she's too centered around Batman, Robin, and Superman. she's supposed to be a Wonder Woman character... i'd appreciate if anyone could give me "well this is how i WISH she had been written" advice so i can gain some research for if i do end up writing her. i have a couple ideas of my own but ultimately i am not THAT well versed on Wonder Woman lore at the moment. this post is specifically designed here for people to rant/rave/whatever so don't worry about bugging me with your thoughts, i WANT them. the more the better!

ALSO ALSO: this post is NOT an excuse to go after anyone with a differing opinion. anybody who starts being rude to someone else will be deleted or blocked. i can't tell if this warning applies to Wonder Woman fans... am i scarred from Batfam posts...

[slutforpringles]

open !! the !! schools !!

[lieutenant-amuel]

I’ve read a lot of posts about Lilo and Stitch 2025 and I see the topic of Pleakley’s cross-dressing being brought up quite often.

I haven’t watched the remake and I doubt I will so my goal is not to compare Pleakley from the animated movie(s) with Pleakley from the live action. I just want to share some of my thoughts on this topic too because Lilo and Stitch has always been one of my most favourite Disney franchises with Pleakley being one of my most favourite characters of all time, not to mention I’m getting into this franchise again so I’m starting to have more to say about it.

Just note that those are only my thoughts that I decided to share so I’m not claiming to be a Pleakley expert or anything and I’m sorry if I’ve worded anything wrong.

One of the takes made in favour of Pleakley NOT cross-dressing in the live action is that him disguising as a woman is taken more as a joke and hence seems offensive to trans people. I’m not going to deny that it was definitely used for a comic effect in some scenes but I think it’s also fair to point out that Pleakley seems to be genuinely interested in feminine clothes and feminine looks in general. Otherwise he wouldn’t put on a wig and admire himself in the mirror (or even keep the wig after he didn’t need his disguise anymore) in the campsite scene.

Is it a minor detail? I’d say yes. But it does imply that Pleakley is interested in feminine clothes and this is why it’s grown into such a significant part of his character in the next movies and in the series.

Pleakley is an Earth expert, and he’s spent many years of his life studying this planet and familiarizing himself with its customs and traditions (which we see A LOT in the series, from Pleakley doing yoga to singing Christmas carols), and there’s no wonder Pleakley would get interested in the Earth attire as well. I don’t remember where I read it but I’m pretty sure Pleakley didn’t even know that clothes he took in the og movie were feminine* so it only kindled his interest. It’s unknown, and it makes it exciting.

An interesting thing I find about Pleakley’s character is that despite leaning towards feminine clothes and clearly favouring them (and even disguising as Lilo’s aunt on Earth) he doesn’t stop wearing masculine clothes. He wears them both depending on his mood, and nobody comments on his preferences.

One of the episodes from Lilo and Stitch: the Series that really stood out for me in regards of Pleakley’s identity and the way other people/aliens treat it is the episode Nosy, the one about an experiment that reveals secrets and loves gossiping.

We learn that Keoni, Lilo’s crush, has a crush on Pleakley, and when Nosy reveals that Pleakley is not a woman, the first thing Keoni does is asking Lilo about Pleakley to make sure he’s indeed not a woman. What is his reaction after this confirmation? He’s just glad that it was revealed because yeah, he’s a simple straight guy (who’s also much younger than Pleakley but this is not what we’re talking about now).

Keoni never asks why Pleakley, a male, would even wear dresses, have long hair, and call himself an aunt. As I mentioned above, literally nobody in the series (and also in movies) cares about the way Pleakley dresses. They never asked him to explain or God forbid justify his preferences.

They’re cool with it, and it makes Pleakley’s presence in the franchise as natural and genuine as possible because the way he dresses is not his whole character, this is something that blends neatly with his other traits to make him a memorable and compelling character.

As I said in the beginning, I haven’t watched the remake so I have no idea how they pulled off the rest of Pleakley’s character but I’m one of those people who’s convinced that Pleakley (read: an Earth expert who was sent to that very planet, getting a chance to learn more about its customs and traditions and accidentally stumbling across Earth feminine clothes just to embrace it as a way of self-expression and find comfort in it) is not Pleakley without cross-dressing.

*Added some more thoughts on it in the tags because those are mostly me thinking out loud and I wouldn’t want to ruin the structure of my “essay” with random babbles.

[agentlove]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[crimeronan]

ultimately i think the appeal of daniel and armand to me is that it's very much a typical dark romance storyline where the heroine is kidnapped and tortured by an evil monster but using her wits she manages to seduce him and make him emotionally vulnerable to her, because she is More Special and More Clever than all of his other victims, and because of this she enjoys a level of dangerous favor and protection from him, except in This version of the dark romance it's two toxic old men who both have the worst fucking personalities imaginable. who truly just fucking suck beyond measure. like no pun intended, they are Garbage, one is the actual literal immortal devil and the other is just kind of a deadbeat with no moral compass, neither of them is willing to work on himself and neither of them has ANY reason to want to rail the other as bad as they do.

and yet. There They Are,

[good-beanswrites]

es being in CONPLETE and utter denial that their prisoners care for them and vice versa. This could be humor and/or angst. Like the prisoners have a whole birthday for es, they bring them back to their room when they pass out, etc. And still, es is like "uhm. Yeah so my prisoners DEFINITELY hate me for the verdicts and stuff" while ignoring a letter on their desk that says "we care for you!!"

They really are the most in-denial child you've ever met -_- I really hope the give-your-warden-a-hug trend continues through the vds, but I'm doubtful 😅 I got hooked on the birthday idea, especially since they don't have an official-official one. I tried to keep a balance of angst and lightheartedness, with the ending ambiguous enough to satisfy either hehe... (Also featuring a quick reference to the last angst piece where Es came down with a fever, but not meaningfully a sequel)

Es awoke on their birthday cold, sore, and crying out in fear. 

They’d fallen asleep at their desk (which hadn’t been an issue the first few times when their neck and shoulders weren’t pinched up in pain.) Jackalope denied any fiddling with the prison’s temperature, but they still believed this chill wasn’t normal. Neither was their sharp increase in nightmares…

They shoved their notebooks aside, knocking against the desk’s lamp with a clatter. Es knew they had no right to feel so bitter. It wasn’t as if it was their real birthday. Today marked the day Milgram had begun, but they had joined the others scoffing at Mahiru’s suggestion that it could be considered the day “Es” was born.

And now, there was no one around to push it. 

They arrived for breakfast in their rumpled uniform. Sure enough, no one spoke a word as they picked at some cereal. Yuno was the only one to make an odd comment after they stood, heading to the hallway.

“Back to work already? Maybe you should take today off. It’s… a good day to relax.”

“I’m fine, Yuno. There’s a bit more to get done,” they lied. 

Milgram’s paperwork and logs had been turned in weeks ago. Everything currently strewn across their desk was there for personal use. It was better to continue their endeavors in the privacy of their own room rather than be an annoyance out here.

“If you say so…” her voice lilted with a lightness Es hadn’t heard in a long time. “Just try and take one break out here, okay? We don’t want a repeat of last time, hehe~”

They nodded, her cheery tone only plunging them deeper into shame. The prisoners had every right to ensure they didn’t overwork themselves again. It must have been infuriating to be expected to care for their own warden. They had to spend a whole week watching over some helpless child who’d dragged their prison into despair.

That night, Mikoto further drove in the knife by repeating the request cheerily. He brought them a plate of dinner, stopping the door with his foot when they tried to shrug off his comments.

“Just a little change of scenery,” he prodded. If even he was offering advice about overwork, the prisoners must have been desperate. 

“Alright.” Es glanced down at the plate, knowing it would be going straight to the garbage given their current appetite. Something sweet sounded more palatable, but that would only sound childish to admit. “I’ll come out to grab some tea in a minute.”

The prison felt oddly quiet when they finally honored their word. They crept from the corridor into the kitchen. Es thought Jackalope maintained control of the meals, but the new mess of dishes told them the prisoners had made something on their own. Es felt a pang of guilt for throwing out their dinner; it may not have been as fur-infested as they originally thought.

They made their tea as silently as possible. The ache had returned to their muscles and temples. All they wanted to do was curl up on the couch in their room, grab a blanket to stave off this chill, and cry as silently as they could manage into their tea.

As Es approached their quarters, they realized they wouldn’t be so lucky. 

The door to their quarters stood open a crack, voices of the prisoners rising up from inside. 

“Hurry up! They’ll be back any minute now.”

“I thought you told them to leave their room?”

“I don’t think they were really buying it...”

Es already figured out the motive was out of selfishness rather than concern, but the betrayal still stung. They were the Warden, after all – they should have been far above falling victim to some mutinous plot to ransack their bedroom.

They took a measured breath. Their plans would need to wait. Es placed their tea on the ground, straightening out their uniform. They mustered up all the authority they could by lifting their chin and making the most of their height. They closed the gap to the doorway and hoped the stomping of their boots announced their arrival with enough intimidation.

“And just what do you think you’re do–”

 “Surprise!”

Es’ mouth hung open, the rest of their lecture falling away into complete bafflement. Their room had been transformed with homemade materials: paper chains hung like party streamers above. Colored crafts were strewn about, in various shapes but with a clear rabbit theme. The books on their desk had been cleared away to make room for a cake, on which Kazui was hurriedly lighting some colorful candles. The icing displayed a shaky-handed drawing of Jackalope’s face. 

“Happy birthday!” Muu beamed at them, unwavering even through her horrid veil. She linked her arms through theirs to drag them forward. “Didn’t we do such a good job?”

“I – what? My birthday…?”

Mikoto shrugged. “It’s close enough.”

“We figured you’d had enough bad surprises lately.” Kazui gave a guilty laugh. “We thought we owed you a nice one.”

Es’ shoulders sank. “No. You don’t owe me anything.”

“That’s good,” Amane said, “because Fuuta-san completely ruined your cake.”

“It’s going to taste fine! If you actually helped with the icing, maybe it wouldn’t look so bad…”

“I was busy making the chain.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Muu said. “We couldn’t surprise you with gifts, since you see our requests. But it was fun making decorations. We still don’t really know what you like, but we know you and Jackalope get along, so we thought you might like rabbits.”

They blinked. “Ah. Where is Jackalope?” There was no way he’d allow all this. After all, he was the one who specifically told them that a Warden of Milgram has no birthday, or age, or anything else to call their own. It was easier that way, he said. Es had agreed, at the time.

The others looked away nervously, but Yuno kept up her bright smile. “Kotoko’s cell. She never does party stuff like this, but I think she still wanted to help. She’s looking after him a bit.”

That sounded like a terrible idea. Es should go make sure he was still in one piece. Then again, what were a few more minutes to understand the situation…?

They eyed the cake. Though the decoration wasn’t the highest quality, there seemed to be a lot of work put into the dessert. “I thought you all were above petty bribery.”

“I told you they’d be a baby about it.” Fuuta crossed his arms. “No kid likes their birthday to be a big deal.”

 Yuno flicked his ear. “Every kid likes that! You’re just the weird one.” Before he could complain, she turned the attention to the flickering candles. “Now, you should make your wish!” 

“Mm-hm. Muu won’t eat it if it gets gross candle wax in it.”

The Warden shouldn’t sit around and share a cake with the prisoners under them.

Kazui said, “it has berries in the filling – your favorite. At least, I thought you mentioned something like that to Shidou-san.”

The Warden should recall information about the prisoners, not the other way around. 

“How does that sound?”

“That sounds…” 

The Warden shouldn’t have a birthday, to begin with.

They tried to get a hold of their trembling voice. “That sounds…” Their throat squeezed itself tight. The others’ eyes widened. They started to cry.

“Oh, Warden-kun!”

“I told you, you’ve been working too hard!”

“Here, let’s get you some cake.”

“It’s okay!”

Es wanted to demand everyone stop with the coddling and the childishness. They didn’t need all this fake concern. But they were outnumbered – too many arms pulled them in and patted their back to fend off. Amane used a sheet of paper to blow out the candles, cutting a slice early.

Es was ushered over to the couch. With all the bodies around them, it felt warmer here. The plate of desert landed right into their hands.

“I… I don’t understand,” they said at last. “It’s not even my birthday. And even if it was, none of us are getting any older. After everything… I mean… You know I don’t deserve this.”

They hung their head. Yuno let out a drawn-out sigh, and they waited for her to agree with them. 

Instead, she nudged them playfully. “I know that everyone deserves something sweet on their birthday. And some company, no matter the homicidal status…” Es didn’t expect so many chuckles from the group. “And a wish.”

Amane reached over to place a half-melted candle into their slice. She lit it.  

It was mere flattery, they reminded themself. These prisoners had no reason to care, other than to get on Es’ good side in hopes of skewing their verdicts. There was nothing special about it – anyone would do the same.

They looked at the gazes surrounding them. Their smiles weren’t forced. But how could anyone tell what was real, anymore? They curled their legs up under them. 

Es closed their eyes, and made a wish.

[magichats]

all the news going around with unity's really got me worried for games that are already several years into development like Hollow Knight Silksong and Billie Bust up.

Just rough because I don't suppose a whole lot of games are going to be able to pivot game engines, let alone so late in development. Like it is easier said than done to pivot early in development but i've been following the development of several games that are years in at this point and the fact that they're grandfathering older titles into this is just... it's just bad.

The potential loss of games in terms of archival on such a massive scale....

[vulpinesaint]

back on the topic of eddie brock never being the first choice. crazy to me to think about the origin of the venom symbol which is that the symbiote Was With Spiderman First. the venom symbol is a slightly creepier version of the spiderman symbol with an extra bend in the legs cause it's the symbiote's best approximation of what it thought spiderman wanted. and when spiderman rejects the symbiote and venom shows up it's still the same suit just on a different person. the symbiote learned emotions from peter parker and it is angry and hurt at not being wanted but it stays in the form it thought he wanted... peter parker disarms eddie brock once by telling the symbiote that he wants it back and attacking once the symbiote starts to leave... eddie has such a hard time throughout the comics with the fact that the symbiote Will Leave Him if prompted by the right person. and be so honest. what would you do if you were eddie brock and no matter where you went or what you did there was a symbol that you were somebody else's second choice emblazoned across your chest

[charleemoon]

hii omg i love your hannibal content - especially your takes on will i swear you understand him the most ever !! <3 i was just wonderingggg (im sorry this is dark) what do you think wills reaction would be if hannibal died a few years post fall?? im interested in your vision honestly haha

okay oh my god i had to sit down and turn my pc on for this

warning for death, emetophobia, suicidal ideation

i think the responses would vary slightly depending on his cause of death. i think the most realistic for them would be hannibal falling ill. they're not sure what it is. an infection, something autoimmune. hannibal's always been attentive to their health, but whatever it is, it slips under their radar. will tries everything, he waits on him hand and foot, the whole world stops. the medications don't help, the check-ups lead to nothing new. hannibal speaks often of god's cruelty, rapsy with chapped lips and burning skin. he doesn't seem troubled. it's almost like he's been waiting for it–the clock ticking down since he was eight, the other shoe about to drop. will tries not to beg, tries not to bargain.

every moment with him, reading his books out to him in broken french, cajun accented and ugly on his tongue. basic meals that will toughens out, burning the fish and the underside of the pan with how often he zones out, body tingling with unreality. for so long, will thought hannibal near invulnerable. they survived a fatal fall, outran the fbi, nothing could touch them. and here they are, hannibal sickly and thin, stag-like and small. he tries not to weep.

when he dies, it's not grand, not beautiful. will has his head on hannibal's chest, hears the broken whisper of mischa's name, and quietly, almost like it fears impoliteness, the beat of hannibal's heart stills under his ear. he doesn't move. he doesn't sob. he just lays on hannibal, and waits to die with him. waits for his heart to stutter and explode in his chest. for them to die together, for their bodies to rot in this house until someone finds them, decomposing and growing into each other. to finally be united as one. it doesn't come. it never comes

the next few days feel like forever. he doesnt leave the room. he doesn't move, just lays in bed with hannibal. relishes every twitch of his body in rigor mortis, holds him until he's frigid cold to the touch, caressing his bone white knuckles. he lays with him until the smell is unbearable, the decomposing meat sweet and pungent. will hunches over and vomits roughly on the hardwood floor, all foam and stomach acid. it wakes him out of his stupor, dizzy and nauseous.

hannibal hated waste. he would hate to rot away in this bed, purposeless and empty. hannibal was so, so beautiful, and he deserved to be part of the world's endless beauty. he, in death, deserves to be elevated to even more.

he uses every part of hannibal. stitches his hair into his fishing lures, soap and candles out of his fat, lathering himself in hannibal, warmed and alight at night with his burning flesh. carved the bone of his annulary into a ring that he wears on his own. they hadn't gotten married yet, will was going to propose this year. he was already hannibal's, and hannibal was his.

he buries the rest of hannibal in the backyard the way he did his childhood dog. he uses him as compost for the garden they always planned to start. he starts studying hannibal's recipes, tastes the vegetables like hannibal's organs, plump and raw on his tongue. hannibal spoken once, broken and with a smile, about will eating him. will wouldn't listen then, and he waited too long now. with their garden, hannibal could be in every meal will has for as long as he can maintain it.

will still kills, but not as often now. him and hannibal had different ideas of rudeness, of righteousness. there wasn't much need to compromise anymore, and it wasn't the same without him. killing was a form of intimacy, of retribution. it feels horribly lonely without his company. he wonders how hannibal stomached doing it like this for so long. now that he knew what killing was like together, everything paled in comparsion.

he kills and elevates, brings beauty to the world when hannibal cannot. at times though, he is wrought with anger, impulsivity. he'll hear a nasty word, a privileged scoff, an underhanded comment on the sick and the dying. things that remind him of hannibal, the ungratefulness, the disgusting spouts out of the mouths of those who no clue what it's like to lose. sometimes he drags them by their hair, beats their face until their skulls cave in. he shudders at the sight, destruction so extreme there's nothing to harvest. hannibal keeps finding new ways to change him, to make him weak, even in death. it almost makes him happy.

he wonders a lot of things about hannibal. questions he never asked, things he wasn't certain of. despite the years, they were slow, and gentle. there wasn't any need to rush into things. they had their whole lives to get to know each other. that's what he told himself. he looks into his family, studies the books he read, his jotted notes and underlines. he relearns loving hannibal, grows to understand him without him there.

the community is nice where they've settled. it's kind, close-knit. they usually had to make their way into the city to find anyone rude enough for their tastes. he volunteers, frequents the libraries and holiday celebrations. they're so sorry for his loss, always sorry. he wears hannibal's clothes out, smells the collar when he feels socially awkward, nervous. he's there, hes with him. he fidgets the bone ring on his finger to soothe himself, akin to how he used to stroke his thumb along hannibal's smooth skin, gentle caresses in public and in bed.

most of all, will starts going to church again. not to pray, or worship. not to beg for hannibal back, demand answers for god's cruelty. he knows why. god is cruel because it feels good. he goes to show him. an insult to him and all he takes away. he stands in the pews and stares into the eyes of christ. will lives and he shows god every way that he defies him.

he never dates again. its not even a thought. he's asked out every now and then, once enough time as passed. they say he's widowed, he's not. will is hannibal's, always. he lives, he grows. he takes care of himself, follows his passions and pursuits. he thinks of death often, but continues on, knowing hannibal would take endless grief in will wasting his life, his beautiful mind blown a hole through with the shotgun under the bed. will has no faith in death to be anything at all, no belief that god would be kind enough to allow will to see hannibal once more. he lives, and he keeps living. but he is displaced, empty. never truly satisfied, never truly happy. and how could he be? he is but one half of a man, after all

[the-love-witch-roleplays]

[morninkim]

As a show of good faith toward the remaining Decepticons at the beginning of a new, united Cybertron, newly appointed Senators Bumblebee and Soundwave allowed Shatter and Dropkick to enlist into Autobot City's Defense Team.

These two turned out to be... not the best choices.

The city may have fallen to Insurgent Decepticon occupation had it not been for young recruits Hot Rod and Arcee's accidental interception of Shatter's communication with the fugitive Starscream.

To replace the errant Defense Team members, Springer and Blurr were reassigned from Iacon to Autobot City in their stead.