#logcrrhea

[rustedservos]

+logcrrhea

logcrrhea started following you

::This is Ratchet, CMO of the Autobots. State your emergency.::

[carestoomvch-blog]

[stickies outta leggie] hAPPY BIRTHDAY

thank you!!! you are honestly the best and i love you!!!

[animadxr-blog]

@logcrrhea |  ♥

“Sorry, little buddy. Is not that I don’t want to go to the bar, is just that I’m sort of----you know, forcefully sober. It would be pointless to even show up.”

[theminibotprotector-blog]

He woke to pressure on his chest.

He wanted to say he was used to it, that the crushing weight was typical. Between nightmares and flashbacks and hypervigilance, the weight was something he had grown accustomed to. It haunted his every night, crushing him until he either drifted off or left for a walk. It was his constant companion. Of course, that weight was less literal and more the result of everything he had endured, and, THAT, he was used to.

Waking up to the weight of a minibot, however, was still unexpected.

Red optics flickered briefly before powering on. To his surprise, it was not Tailgate, but Rewind who slept curled on his chest, like a content cat. He was silent, with only his shoulders moving in gentle vents. To his right, Swerve lay sprawled, his mouth open as quiet snores escaped his lips. At least he looked comfortable, even if his shoulder tire pressed into Cyclonus’ inner arm. Tailgate, though, was on Cyclonus’ left. His chubby form was curled, his arms wrapped around Cyclonus’ middle. Unlike Swerve, his head rested gently against his warrior’s shoulder, and he seemed quite content to purr in his sleep.

It was a sight that Cyclonus had not yet gotten used to, but one that still brought a smile to his face. Although he would protest to such a show of affection when the minibots awoke, he would indulge himself for now. The warrior himself wriggled, shifting his right arm to tug Swerve closer. The minibot flopped onto his side, his mouth closing, and the room became noticeably quieter.

Chuckling, he leaned over, pressed his lips to each minibot’s forehelm.

“My dearsparks,” he rumbled, and closed his optics once more.

Yes, he could definitely get used to this kind of weight on his chest.

[cameraworn-blog]

@logcrrhea LIKED.

            ❛ okay, so, if i were to HYPOTHETICALLY -only hypothetically, mind you- do a movie night in the bar sometime, would there be any objections? bluestreak keeps sending me movie recommendations, and i’ll admit that it’s got me thinking big. ❜

[coastlinr-blog]

@logcrrhea​ LIKED.

                 ❛ you’re        you’re OKAY, right? ❜  

         the mood rodimus is aiming for is impossible genuine, and the concerned-laced tone of his face and the face that screams sorry seems to be hitting the nail right on the head. he’s guilty. maybe for what are mostly selfish reasons that the captain has pushed to the very bottom of his throat (they’re now only guttural, incoherent noises). something that stemmed out of the constant want to be the person who NOTICES things. who solves problems at the peak and the rising climaxes, not at the ending, irreversible-damage points. oh, and empathy. a sense of obligatory protectiveness over ‘his crew’, but that wording only accentuated everything that went wrong. 

            maybe crouching on the floor behind the back of swerve’s presently-closed bar was an awful way to make peace with himself and everyone’s favorite bartender. or maybe sitting down and having a spark-to-spark conversation was the best way to let someone who felt ignored to the point of          well, SWEARTH, know that he wasn’t going to let the whole ordeal slip by in a gust of few-word exchanges between those who found him. 

[grandtheftautobct-archived-blog]

@logcrrhea liked for a starter !!

♚--;;    “Hey, yo, Swerve. You got anything back there that I can HANDLE? Or am I gunna have to stock my own pile up next time we land?”