bee racing


Hello I hate myself for spending so much time on these but w/e

DnD Homebrew Ideas

Doing some research because why do something productive with my life, but here’s a list of 7 canonical DnD Races from previous editions and monster manuals to inspire some fresh Player-Character ideas:

Abeil: Basically bee-people. Lore of them are sparse, so it can be fun to craft some for yourself. There are different “castes” (Vassals, Soldiers, or Queens), but all three can fly with their wings (but can’t wear armor because of them), and can also use the wings to create a droning noise that works like a sleep spell. For additional ideas/inspiration, I suggest Pathfinder’s very similar Thriae race.

Alaghi: quiet, peaceful, furry omnivores similar to yeti, but live in small nomadic families in mountains and forests. They are big and muscular (6ft, 300+lbs) but prefer to avoid violence, and are adept at sneaking through their woodland homes. Always in harmony with nature, and the more thoughtful but reclusive Alaghi become druids or clerics. 

Chitine: Four-armed spider-folk created by the drow, who then rebelled and made their own civilization. Consider themselves Lolth’s “true” children. They specialize in ambushing, sneaking, and setting traps with their webs. Any build should include the spiderclimb and web spells in some way. 

Nycter: one of my favorite discoveries- batfolk!  “Nycters prefer peace over war. If they encounter other creatures without being noticed in turn, they often choose to avoid them altogether. If confronted, they parlay and seek harmonious solutions. However, they fight fiercely to defend themselves or their territory.” Lots of possibilities- they can fly, but are slower on the ground (20ft!), are adept at listening checks (perception), darkvision, and special abilities involving their echolocation. Would take some tweaking, but I’d be excited to try one. 

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Broken Silence

Soulmate AU: The one in which you can talk to them in dreams until/after you find them

Ahhh! Gosh, thank you so much! That’s so kind! I’m so sorry that this took so so long. <33
(I also now realise, after I have written this, that this isn’t ‘in your dreams’ but I quite like this so I hope that that’s okay?)

“Tell me what they did to you, please.”

This potentially isn’t as angsty as it could have been but ??? It’s pretty angsty.

Guess who’s back! Thank you to everyone who was kind whilst I was away! I’m still super shaky and weird about everything and, even though my school was kind of laughing about it at first, we’ve sort of settled into this horrible, subdued atmosphere because we’re all pretty scared now, it’s actually sunk in, but life has to move on! I still have exams coming up so I can’t remain frightened forever. I don’t know how good this is but I’m a little rusty so please forgive me.

The sign language that I have incorporated is actually BSL because I’m trying to learn a bit because I think it’s a good thing to know and there’s really no point in me confusing myself with the ASL versions of things at this point as I am, obviously, British. If something seems wrong, either it is or you, perhaps, know ASL or any other form of sign language, as there are many around the world.

TW: Mentions of homophobia

Soulmates were stupid. That was one of Spot’s only rules in life. Never eat a pizza without garlic bread and never interact with those stupid words that pop into your head.

When you turned sixteen, that was when it started. You could ‘talk’ to your soulmate. There was no denying it, it was certainly true (Spot’s wouldn’t shut the fuck up), but it didn’t make it any less ridiculous. You just had to think about talking to your soulmate and, after saying the words out loud, they would magically appear in the other person’s brain.

Of course, after you figured out who your soulmate was, you could actually speak to them and hear their voice but, until then, you were stuck in awkward silence, holding signs up from opposite corners of the world in some cases. It had been reported a few times, however, that in rare circumstances, you could hear them before you’ve actually met but that hadn’t happened to anyone that Spot knew and he didn’t know to what extent he believed that it could.

His friends were always telling him that he should talk to them. A lot of them knew how irritating it was to have a soulmate who just wouldn’t respond and they all felt bad for whoever his was. It wasn’t exactly an abnormal reaction to soulmates, a fair amount of people in society were too scared to reply, but it was still annoying.

Romeo, for example, had slapped Specs in the face when they’d figured out that they were each other’s soulmates and he’d remained silent for so long. Especially when Crutchie and Jack had found each other so easily after they’d both been co-operative.

He always heard Race complaining about it, how he tried to talk to them every night but every night he got nothing. He’d moan about it with Albert everyday, who was in the same boat with a silent soulmate, which was the reason that Spot often ate lunch with his own friends from Brooklyn. His best friend was great but he could certainly be bloody annoying. He didn’t want to listen to Race talking about the person that he was destined to spend his life with because part of him wanted it to be him.

It started just as Spot was getting ready to go to sleep, as usual. He was sitting on the end of his bed, just locking his phone to plug it in when he saw the words etched into the back of his mind.


He sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he got ready to not be able to do anything without seeing it unless he went straight to sleep and put his phone down. Spot knew he was probably being difficult for them but, as much as he wanted to, he just didn’t really care about the whole ‘soulmate’ thing.  It was stupid to him and he hated having to put up with it.

So, I know you won’t answer because you never answer and that’s totally fine. I respect your decision and it’s normal or whatever but I wish you’d just talk to me. I’d really like to meet you, sooner rather than later. God, I bet you’re not even listening.

As he read the words, Spot realised, for the first time, just what he was doing to whoever it was on the other end. He’d never really stopped to think about their feelings, just regarding the constant attempts at conversation as annoying and irritating.

He found himself opening his mouth, closing it quickly again when he realised that he’d actually let a small, “I’m here,” cross his lips.

Holy shit! Hello! Oh my god!

Spot’s eyes flew open as soon as he registered what he’d done. He quickly jumped into his bed and underneath his duvet, just trying to shut out any other thoughts and somehow fall asleep through it as soon as possible.

The next day, Spot decided to actually sit with Race at lunch for once, mostly because he’d seemed weird all morning in classes. He was silent, as if he was thinking or brooding. It was strange; Race was always loud and excitable, he rarely shut up. Spot wasn’t used to not hearing him whining everyday about how he just wanted his soulmate to talk to him.

“Come on, Pasta, cheer up!” Jojo jostled Race lightly from the other side of him, making eye contact with Spot for a second to let him know that he was worried. Race was never silent. The last time he’d got like this was in the months before Jojo and Darcy’s parents had fostered him. His own parents, two people who’d married the wrong person, were constantly fighting and they didn’t pull their punches when Race ‘got in the way.’ It had taken another few months of living with Jojo and Darcy to get Race back up to his normal speed.

Race only sighed. He pushed Jojo away from him, rubbing at his nose as he rested his cheek in his hand, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” He gave a distracted smile, eyes blinking for longer than necessary as he turned to look around him.

It was on the way home, however, that Spot’s entire view turned around.

He was about halfway to his house when it happened. Just as he was passing the corner store that Finch’s family ran, Spot heard a boy’s awful, broken, sobbing yell.


He swung around immediately, trying to figure out where it was coming from before realising, as the crying continued, that it wasn’t coming from anywhere nearby. No one else on the street had stopped or even looked like they’d heard anything. The screaming was coming from inside Spot’s own head.

Spot fell into the doorway of the small store, unable to stand the loud, horrible screaming any longer. He pressed the heels of his palms into his temples as he tried to hold back his own pained yells.

“Help me, please! Someone help me!”

After a while, the screaming died down until only a couple of quiet, pitiful whimpers were left. Spot was left breathing heavily and clutching at his head as the screaming finally stopped altogether. He dropped back against the door behind him, glad that Finch’s family were away that week and glad that there was no one around who knew him. When he looked up, however, he found a small gathering of people standing over him. They all appeared concerned as they had just watched, what looked like, some kind of panic attack.

A woman kneeled beside Spot, carefully placing her hand on his knee before backing up when he jerked away violently, “Hey, Hon, are you okay? Do you need us to call someone?” She offered him a weak smile as he stared almost blankly at the group of people.

Spot jumped upwards suddenly, realising exactly what he was doing as he backed away from the group, “No, I’m- I’m fine.” He shook his head, wiping at his face before turning and fleeing the scene.

He ran all the way home, ignoring his mother as he slammed the door behind him and rushed to lock himself inside his room. Although she tried to get his attention, knocking on his door to see if he was okay, when he just didn’t open it, she eventually left it. She knew exactly how to deal with Spot and it wasn’t by forcing him to talk to her.

Later in the evening, Spot started to grow a little worried when he didn’t get any silent messages. It got later and later and, still, Spot didn’t see anything from his soulmate. It worried him after what had happened earlier and, especially, because he hadn’t been silent since he’d turned sixteen. He was just a couple of months younger than Spot, which he knew because he hadn’t started talking until a couple of months after Spot’s birthday.

It was kind of weird, knowing that his soulmate was a ‘He.’ Not because he didn’t like it but because, secretly, he’d hoped for it, hoped for Race. Often, soulmates could go a little awry and you could end up with a gender that you didn’t think you were attracted to.

Spot even tried to speak with him a little, wondering whether he’d get a response as he cringed and hated himself every second, “Um. Hi. So, I don’t know if you know what happened earlier but- uhhh. I- I heard you. You were- you were crying. I just- I wanted to- I just wanted to ask if you’re okay?”

Whilst he sat for a moment, waiting to see if anything happened, Spot realised exactly how stupid it was and decided to just go to sleep. There seemed to be nothing in response to him anyway and he hated that he was even entertaining the idea.

Spot was hanging out in the corridors with his friends from Brooklyn the next day, watching as Laces and Mouse shoved each other around during lunch, when he realised that Hawk, Red, and Bee were watching him closely.

He looked across at them, seeing his first friend, and his second-in-command and her girlfriend before rolling his eyes and sighing, “Alright, fine. Guys, something really weird happened yesterday.” Spot moved his hands from fists at his chest to two thumbs up, before continuing to sign the important parts of the sentence. The whole little group was learning sign language together as Hawk was only just starting to learn it to help him communicate. It was just easier to try to sign everything that they said. Spot groaned gently as Mouse and Laces quickly stepped over to see what was going on with their leader, a little put out that he was about to have to actually talk about how he was feeling in front of people.

“What?” Red furrowed her eyebrows quickly as she realised that Spot was actually about to talk to them about something, ticking her right index finger a couple of times. He never opened up and she was obviously concerned that he suddenly wanted to talk.

Sighing, Spot rubbed at his eyes as he made eye contact with Hawk, taking strength in the fact that he was there to help him if he got stuck. It wasn’t like he could say anything to get him out of the situation, as he was mute, but he could certainly help him get there with reassurance. He had perfected the reassuring gaze, “You know people say that sometimes you can hear your soulmate before you figure out who they are?” Raising his finger to his head before pointing at the others, Spot shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot as he felt the uncomfortableness of it all sinking in. He waved his finger downwards, wiggling it slightly, before raising his other finger to his lips and drawing it out. Struggling through the rest of the sentence, Spot somehow managed to make it through not too badly as Hawk gave him a quick thumbs-up.

There was silence for a moment as Spot felt five pairs of eyes studying his every movement, Red pointed cautiously at Spot as she obviously realised that he could become a loose cannon at any moment, “ … You want to talk about your soulmate?” She pressed her closed fists together, thumbs up, and rocked them slightly, worried to push him.

“Well, I guess?” Spot moved both hands outwards, palms facing up, before moving his pointed index finger away from his temple and opening his fist, “I may as well, there’s nothing stopping this, it’s happening. I can’t deny it anymore.” He sighed, reaching up to swipe at his eyes almost nervously and knowing that at least Hawk would take that as something was seriously wrong.

Bee tapped her right index against her left shoulder before ticking it slightly as she furrowed her eyebrows together, “Why? What happened?” She frowned as he began to chew nervously on his bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth and hollowing out his cheeks.

Sighing as he half heartedly signed every other word in the sentence, Spot dropped his head down awkwardly as soon as he realised that everyone was watching him dedicatedly. He could handle people listening but the staring was too much, “I was walking home yesterday and, suddenly, there was just this- this awful screaming.” Punctuating the final word by drawing his fist just below his mouth and opening it violently, Spot continued to chew absentmindedly at his lip as the others almost stopped breathing to just look at him. He pointed to his left, repeating the screaming action before offering a thumbs-up on an open palm, “He was screaming for help … And I couldn’t help him.”

A small bark of disbelieving laughter left Red as she nervously wrapped her arm around her own soulmate, Bee, beside her, “Shit, Spot.” She quickly drew two fingers down beside her, shaking her head in shock.

Taking his wrist gingerly and guiding him to a bench at the side of the corridor, Hawk’s brown eyes pleaded with Spot as he realised exactly how affected by this his best friend was. Once he’d managed to get Spot to sit down, he pointed towards him before moving his thumb around in small circles to ask, ‘Are you okay?’

Spot leaned forwards, letting his face rest in his hands awkwardly as he cringed away from the questions, “I- I don’t know.” He hated opening up, he hated it so much. It was awful and he hated being at all vulnerable and he hated even talking about things with Hawk or Race, let alone the rest of them. Too distracted to think about his own signs anymore, Spot’s fingers just ran themselves through his dark hair, tugging on it in distress.

As Spot slowly pulled his head up, biting back whatever feelings, teetering on the edge of falling, that he didn’t fully understand, he saw Hawk frowning and trying to encourage him to say something more. He tapped his index finger against his opposite shoulder when Spot looked at him, making sure that he’d seen him, ‘Why?’

A gust of disheveled air leaving his parted lips, Spot grumbled to himself as he thought about what to say, “I feel weird about it. I feel- angry. I feel- I feel like I should have been able to help him.” Although his signs had fallen apart, Spot was still able to accentuate ‘angry’ with two loosely clawed hands being pulled away from his chest. He rubbed his knuckles into one of his eyes for a second, quickly taking a deep breath as he realised that he was actually growing angry, just thinking about it.

Sitting tentatively on the other side of Spot, Bee looked to her girlfriend once for reassurance before risking resting a comforting hand on his arm. Although Spot flinched slightly, he did nothing to ask her to remove it and she left it there, “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything, you don’t even know where he is.” She smiled gently, rubbing his arm a little before dropping her hand into her lap.

“I know. I just wish I could have done something.” Spot huffed, folding his arms and leaning back as Hawk lightly rested his head against his shoulder comfortingly, “He sounded local, though.”

Laces broke out into a wide grin at that comment, signing his way clumsily through the odd word as he was quite a bit behind the others, “Well, hey! There’s progress! Cheer up, Boss. Those Delanceys can’t see you like this, I’m sure he’s just fine!” He reached forwards to nudge Spot’s shoulder, encouraging him to lighten up a little and brightening when he did offer the tiniest of smiles.

Nodding quickly to agree with his best friend, Mouse jostled the boy beside him slightly before reaching forwards to push lightly at Spot too, “Yeah, Lace’s probably right! He’s probably just a little knocked about. After all, he’s your soulmate. You’re meant to be together!”

A small, amused chuckle left Spot as he watched Mouse and Laces launch into some kind of poking match, shrugging and murmuring almost silently, “I don’t know, guys. He hasn’t said anything since, that’s not like him. I don’t care about this shit but I’m worried, you didn’t hear it. It was awful.” He shuddered slightly, reeling from the memory of it as Hawk drew him carefully into his arms to hug him quickly.

It wasn’t until later that day that Spot actually put the pieces together. He hadn’t seen Race at all as he didn’t have any lessons with him but, as he headed towards the car park, where he was supposed to be getting a lift with Hawk, Spot walked past an empty classroom. As he went by it, he heard a small whimpering, something almost familiar.

Pushing his way carefully into the dark room, Spot glanced around for a second before flicking the light switch on and reeling in horror as soon as he saw Race, huddled in the corner with his hands to hide his sodden cheeks.

“Race!” Rushing forwards, Spot flung himself onto the ground beside his best friend and immediately held himself back, “What happened?” As much as he wanted to grab Race and hold him and protect him, he knew that he didn’t like being touched without warning, especially when he wasn’t feeling too great. This was, certainly, the worst that Spot had ever seen Race. He’d seen him when he was bored, tired, upset, but never so distraught that he couldn’t even lift his head from his hands for two seconds.

A miserable murmur lifted from Race’s hands, muffled though still audible, even if only just, “The Delanceys.” He eventually lifted his head, shame dripping from his features as he attempted to turn away before Spot could see him. It was too late, however, as Spot had already seen the deep, purple bruises staining Race’s pretty skin.

He took in a sharp breath, gingerly taking Race’s cheek and tilting his head this way and that to see it better. Normally, Race would have pulled away as soon as he got anywhere near but this Race was different. This Race didn’t care what Spot did to him, just wincing every time he moved his chin painfully, dull eyes focussing on nothing in particular over Spot’s shoulder.

“Race, tell me what they did to you, please?” Spot’s quiet begging was small, barely audible. He knew that Race would hear, he just didn’t want anyone walking by to hear anything and investigate. Spot knew how much it meant to Race that no one saw him when he was feeling down.

Sighing and shuffling himself slightly further down the wall, Race sniffled and fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve, “They jumped me after school, yesterday. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Spot felt his features crumple slightly, terrible at keeping his feelings to himself when Race was hurting. He’d seen it too many times and he’d vowed he wouldn’t see it again, “Oh, Race.” Slumping slightly in his own posture, Spot took a moment before freezing and realising something, “Wait, yesterday? After school?” When Race nodded, Spot felt a deep-rooted terror mingling with excitement in his gut, “Race, I- I think I heard you … In my head.” Surely the impossible couldn’t actually be happening?

Confusion just blurring Race’s eyes, he frowned as he flickered his eyes over Spot quickly, “What?” It was obvious that he simply didn’t understand, which was fine. Spot probably wouldn’t have put it together if he hadn’t been secretly hoping that if he had to have an annoying ass soulmate, it may as well be Race for years.

“You- I- … I heard my soulmate yesterday. He was screaming just after school.” The twisting in Spot’s gut grew as Race began to realise what he was saying, perfectly ready for him to just push him away. Spot would never have been so forward if it wasn’t Race sat in front of him. Race; his best friend. Race; the boy he’d wished, if he had to have one, was his soulmate for three years. Race; still crying and staring at him in confusion. As Race continued to sit in silence, Spot thought about what he could do to prove it and, despite not being one hundred percent certain, decided to take a risk, “Okay, here, let me show you.”

Spot stood, holding his hands out in front of Race so that he wasn’t spooked by his fast movements, and scurried just outside of the room, closing the door behind him. He let his eyelids drop closed as he smiled, thinking about Race for a second as a light whisper leapt from his lips, “Hey, Racer. It’s Spotty.” When he poked his head back into the room, Race was staring at him.

He slowly made his way over, suddenly becoming uncertain that he had been wrong. Spot quickly hated that he’d got carried away with this, letting himself wonder whilst his guard was down and making a fool of himself but, as Race stared at him, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he would never have been this happy to find a soulmate if it wasn’t Race. He didn’t have to get to know someone new, just had to deal with the boy who was unfortunately pretty. The boy who was still crying.

“Hey, c’mon now. What did the Delanceys do to you and why?” Spot decided to drop the soulmate thing, just happy to let Race sit with the idea for a little whilst he sorted out the more important part.

Race’s chin fell once more as he sniffed harshly, flinching and turning his head to the right to avoid Spot but settling as he realised that the Brooklyn boy wasn’t going to leave him alone. He sighed, pulling awkwardly at his knuckles, which Spot knew was something that Race did when he wanted out, “They kicked me around a bit … It was because they found out that I’m gay.”

Scoffing immediately, Spot steeled his jaw as he struggled not to just run and find them right then and there. He’d had to put up with their general shit for the last few years, let alone if they were going to start being bigoted arseholes as well, “Race? They can eat shit, okay? There’s nothing wrong with liking boys. There’s nothing wrong with this.” Spot gestured briefly between them, realising that Race may not be totally comfortable with that yet but referring to the fact that they were, undeniably, soulmates. When Spot saw that Race was staring at his hand, where it lay beside him, Spot struggled to bite back his smile. He had an image to uphold but, in the moment, he just didn’t care, “There’s nothing wrong with us.” Taking Race’s hand carefully, almost as if he could break it, Spot sighed contently when he leaned against him.

Spot didn’t expect them to move anywhere fast but he was comfortable enough for that.

a whole lot of faith and a little bit of magic and guts and fire. I am finding more and more each day that there’s a whole lot left in me to find. there are so many goals I had that I’d never thought I’d reach, but I’m 8 minutes faster than I was last year in the half marathon, who says I won’t be 8 minutes faster this year? I am going for it all

Black Women Aren’t Mammies For White Women’s Biracial Children

Whenever one of y'all get some free time, go tell White women that fucking Black dick and having their kids comes with responsibility.

Because I am about tired of White women thinking it is the duty of Black women to teach White mothers how to raise biracial children. Basically they want us to be mammies as always.

They will lay up in bed with Black men and the two of them will bash Black women their whole relationship. About how loud, trashy, unattractive, and unpleasant Black women are. He will tell her all about how much more suitable she is than any Black woman. But as soon as they have a child together, she will be out here talking about, “Hey Black Women. Any tips on how to tame my baby’s hair? It’s frustrating me. Hahaha My baby’s naps are just too much. I’m tempted to relax it!”

Bitch, you finna relax a baby’s hair?

Somebody should have told you that Black dick comes with responsibilities.

You can’t raise no bi-racial child like you would raise a White child.

Yeah, biracial children have curly and/or kinky hair most of the time. You thought their shit was gon be limp, thin, and stringy like yours? No. You need to get on the internet and research how to maintain Black hair. But do not ever disrespect me by thinking I am about to ride right on over there to your house and teach you everything that Black women know. Meanwhile Black mothers get bashed just for existing and you will be treated like a trophy mom because “Aww, look at her learning how to do Black hair. The world needs more of this.”

Umm NO. Disgraceful. There are plenty resources out there for you to learn how to raise biracial children.

OH and don’t stop at just hair!

Actually consider the fact that your biracial child will have a much different life than you. Your child will have to deal with racism, and you know nothing about that so it is important for you to be open to understand instead of getting all in your feelings because you want your biracial child to be more considerate of their White side.

“Oh, Mommy loves you baby so White people aren’t bad people, right?”

Bitch, false. You can be racist all while with a Black man and having a biracial child.

“Don’t ever forget your White culture, baby. You’re not just Black. You’re mommy’s special mixed baby.”

FIRST OF ALL, WHAT IS WHITE CULTURE? Hold that thought, I’m gon sit down and get comfortable for this one because I would love to know!

You so busy trying to make sure your child will identify with your Whiteness that you are robbing them of the full experience of embracing and learning how to navigate through their Blackness.

They will never experience racism because of their White side so calm your unnecessarily whiny ass down. If you are going to be the White mother of a biracial child then take your White feelings out of the equation for a change. Got your children running around talking about, “UGH, I’M NOT BLACK! I’M BARELY EVEN MIXED! MY MOM IS WHITE!!!!!”

And Black men are even more pathetic for letting it get that far. Y'all are supposed to be so damn anti-racism but y'all don’t mind White women raising your biracial children to be anti-Black. As long as you are having sex with Becky, you are fine with that. Ol’ “Carry on my legacy” head asses.. but you will drop your legacy in a heartbeat once Becky says you can live underneath her roof.

This shit is trash. Y'all hate Black women but y'all want Black women to teach White mothers how to be great so that y'all can turn around and say, “DAMN BLACK MOTHERS, WHITE MOTHERS ARE RAISING BLACK CHILDREN BETTER THAN YALL. WATCH OUT.”

I feel sorry for these biracial children that have to deal with all of this chaos. They are the only ones I feel sympathy for in this.

pixeledpurple  asked:

I loved your KO meets Bee headcanons! I'd love to hear anything more about these two you want to share. 💛❤️

I would love to!

  • - KO loves listening Bee’s stories of Earth. Sure he had time too to explore and get to know the planet but Bee clearly had advantages when it came to learn about Earth
  • - Since Bee was the first one to trust Knock Out, he’s the one who eventually would put the autobot insignia on KO
  • - Sometimes when racing Bee lets KO deliberately win just cause it makes him so happy. Knock Out knows this but because it’s so thoughtful and good willed from Bee he doesn’t have the spark to say anything
  • - When Bee has down time he spends it at the med-bay often cause it’s the quietest place and KO would just do his own thing anyway so Bee’d get some deserved rest
  • - Bee is the only one who gets to call Knock Out ”Knocky”
  • - They love irritating Ultra Magnus and some other older bots with puns and just being difficult on purpose. Stick it to the old people!
  • - Even though the war is over Bee still likes to train and learn new fighting styles and KO joins him sometimes, it also makes him more confident in this own fighting skills
  • - They’d get into pun wars
  • - Knock Out dislikes when someone dispels all Bee has done that affected how things turned out in the end. He hates when someone’s hard work goes unrecognised and under appreciated because he had to endure that for so long himself
  • - Just imagine all those peaceful moments when they take turns buffing each other
  • - At times a thought creeps up on Knock Out that there’d have been a time when he might have been able to hurt terribly or even kill Bee when they fought and it would have changed everything for everyone. He wouldn’t have this kind, supporting bot who trusts him and enjoys his company now. It’s so easy to see everything in hindsight and KO would love to live without this bleak thought.