#identity drift

[cerebrolusion]

3. Image Caption (Post-It Note on the Void)

“I don't know what I am either. But I’m here.”

[georgiesblurredbones]

“I Am Not ‘It’, Russell Clay” Jetstorm Replies Morosely. “Unless ‘It’ Means ‘Depressed’.” —Jetstorm, RiD2015, Drift’s Samurai Showdown.

Holy SHIT Jetstorm, Drift Has Been Gone For Ten Minutes And Ur Already Crashing Out. U Are 10 Years Old Go Play And Draw And Play With Ur Monster Trucks For The Love of GOD😭 /ref

[konmaao3]

The discovery of continental drift, colorized:

[strawberryshortcake1495]

The Drifting Stars AU has me on a chokehold so here’s my Mabel design :3

Here’s Mabel! Or Prim, if you’re an alien in some faraway dimension. After a while of traveling the multiverse, Mabel creates blossoming romances with alien boys but Ford always forces her to leave the dimension in pursuit of Bill. To distract the boy while she leaves, she’ll ask him to get her a primrose flower. He does just that and when he comes back, she’s gone. Never to be seen again. These on and off situationships earned Mabel the title “Primrose”.

Mabel used to be ashamed of the title because she has like a million ex boyfriends who she never wanted to hurt but when things grew dire, she made it her legal name to hide her real identity (with Prim being a nickname). As a final touch, Mabel cut her hair, dyed it pink, and put on eye contacts to really complete the new look. She convinced Ford to change his identity too, growing his hair out to become a woman named Sixtus.

Prim is known as a rebellious war criminal who’s often committing crimes and throwing rallies with her no-nonsense sidekick. She’s a master manipulator wherever she goes, always charming people with her cuteness. It’s not until she finally goes back home to Dimension 46 that she goes back to being Mabel Pines.

But depending on your AU, that could take years. So with her huge treasure chest of trauma, feel free to add existentialism in it.

[transingthoseformers]

Drift's first heat after defecting you KNOW he had to have been holed up somewhere weird

[strawbpusheen]

I REALIZED I NEVER PUT MY KINLIST ON HERE BRING BACK KINLISTS 2025!!!!!!!! I LOVE KINNING CHARACTERS!!!!!!

Idgaf if its cringe..... I am a kinner through and through

idw drift transformers literally me guys he's so me that's litera-

[silkling]

The Last Race - 2

He came back to himself when something slammed into his helm and sent him sprawling to the ground.

When he finally was able to get his optic to boot up, he was greeted with a mech sneering down at him. 

“Get the frag out of the streets, mono.” the bot spat at him.

Blurr found himself flinching back from the insult. “I-I-” he sputtered, but cut himself off immediately. He didn’t know what he would say.

“I didn’t ask for your input.” the mech hissed.

“Just call the enforcers! They’ll get the scrapheap out of here and back to where he belongs.” Another voice called out impatiently. 

It made him flinch, and when he looked around he finally realized he'd entered the city proper. He must have been wandering the streets after he’d fled the junkyard. The only question was what city he was actually in, since he didn't recognize anything around him. But right now he was on the ground, surrounded by angry, bristling mechs who looked at him in disgust. 

Wait. Enforcers.The thought sent cold panic racing through his lines. He couldn’t let them get to him. He didn’t know what they’d do, but he didn’t want to find out. He stumbled to his pedes, looking desperately for a break in the crowd. 

He spotted a gap leading towards an alley and stumbled for it, the mechs hurrying to part so he wouldn't touch them. He heard a scoff behind him as he stumbled into the alley, collapsing at the end with a gasp. 

Primus, but walking with his new legs was so hard. How would he ever run with them?

Could he even run with them?

He could still hear the hissing of the crowd behind him, one or two mechs grumbling about having called the Enforcers to “clean up the scrap”. He flinched, trying to force himself up.

He didn’t understand. Why were they looking at him like that, treating him like that? He may not be recognizable, but he was still a mech! 

Right?

Except, he wasn’t. Not to them. The realization struck him with a sickening lurch, making him sway. 

A soft voice shocked him out of his downward spiral. “Hey. Are you okay?” 

He shuddered, blinking and looking up at the owner of the voice. It was a mech, with black plating. They–he, their EM field indicated– had green arms and thighs, and a green faceplate. Distantly, Blurr noticed the scuffs and scrapes, the dirt and dents. He blinked again, meeting his gaze. His blue optics were kind, as he held a servo out to him.

“Come on now. Let’s get out of here before the Enforcers show, alright? You’re new to all this, aren't you? I can take you somewhere safe.” he told him gently.

He shook, but a raised voice from the mouth of the alley made him flinch. He raised a servo–claw–to take the mech’s offer, but stopped. Claws. He had…claws, now. Sharp, pointed.

The mech’s expression turned to one of understanding and he hummed. “Okay. I’m just going to take your wrist, okay?” He warned him.

He appreciated it. He felt the servo wrap around his wrist, and the mech tugged him up and took his weight, then led him off into the alleys and shadows.

Behind them, the distant sound of Enforcer sirens drew nearer. By the time the officers arrived, Blurr was gone into the depths of the Dead End.

—-----

The stranger pulled him through alleys and side streets, eventually coming to a stop in front of a broken down, abandoned building. “Here we are!” He turned and smiled at him. “Come on in. Let’s get you fuelled up.” He encouraged gently, leading the way in. 

Blurr followed slowly, looking around. This place was..wholly unimpressive. Rusted and falling apart, holes in the ceiling and the walls partially collapsed. But at the very back of the building, the stranger led him to a room that was almost entirely intact, if not dirty and in disrepair.

And gathered around a small fire were three other mechs. They looked up when the stranger entered, grinning widely, only to blink in confusion when they saw Blurr.

“Hey mechs! I brought along a guest. He was at the edge of Dead End. Almost got caught by Enforcers. Figured it’d be a decent thing to lend him a servo. I think he’s new to all this.” the stranger told the new mechs.

He saw an understanding dawn on them, and the one he recognized as a speedster frame, with white and gray armor and optics shining red, nodded.

”Sure. Us casteless trash gotta stick together, right?” the speedster said with a sardonic grin.

“Drift.” the first stranger scolded. “We aren’t trash. Just because we don’t have proper functions doesn’t mean we don’t have worth.”

So, he’d been right. He had guessed, from the mech's appearance and the state of this place, but the words were confirmation that this was a crew of street mechs. 

The speedster, Drift, just huffed and rolled his optics.

The first stranger jolted, then shot him an apologetic look, taking his wrist again and leading him to the fire. “Here. Sit. Rest. You look like you need it.” He sat beside him, then perked up and chuckled. “Oh! I never introduced myself!” he turned to them and grinned. “I’m Gasket. The white idiot over there is Drift.” he nodded at the speedster. “Over there are the twins, Runabout and Runamuck.” At their names, each mech nodded as they were introduced.

Finally, Gasket turned back to him. “What about you, stranger? What’s your name?”

And Blurr...froze. He was Blurr. 

RIght?

But...was he really Blurr, anymore? He didn't have his voice, or his face, or his servos, or his legs. He didn’t even know if he could still run like he used to.

Was he really still Blurr if he couldn't run?

(He was. He was Blurr. He was Blurr. He…He was Blur. HewasBlurrHewasBlurrHewasBlurr.)

He had to be Blurr…didn't he?

Was he really Blurr, could he be Blurr, when he’d lost everything that made him, him?

He was taking too long to answer.

“I-” he choked. 

Gasket’s expression softened. “Hey. it’s okay if you don’t remember.” he said gently.

“I do!” he blurted out. “I do remember! But-But, I-!” he couldn’t finish. 

Primus

Was that really his voice now? It was so...toneless. Cold. It lacked all his usual intonation and emphasis. It was just…monotone, in a way he hadn't expected. But then, it made sense. It was hard to emote properly without things like lips and a glossa and denta. He couldn't speak with his distinct flair and intonation without them.

He choked. “My-My voice!” Even now, in distress and panic, his voice was almost bland.

Gasket’s expression was sympathetic. “Hey, Hey. It's okay. It’s okay if you don’t want to give us your old name. I’ll just…call you Blue for now, okay?” At his shaky nod, Gasket continued.”And it’s okay if your voice is different. That’s pretty standard for Emps.” he smiled kindly. “Just practice. Work at it some, and you can get back to how it was before, yeah?”

Just...practice. He could do that.

And…Emps. That had to be short for…for…

Primus, he couldn’t even think of the word in his own processor.

“Okay.” he whispered instead.

Gasket smiled warmly. “Great!” he nodded in satisfaction. “So, Blue. How about we get some fuel into you? We may not have a lot of energon, but we’ve got enough to share.”

He felt his spark constrict. These mechs…they had so little. So, so precious little. Their frames carried textbook signs of malnourishment, so much so that even he could recognize it. And yet, even then, they were willing to share what little they had with him, a stranger. It was a kindness that made his spark ache. 

“Okay.” he said, sagging, because what else could he do but accept? “Thank you.” .

Gasket smiled warmly, nodding. One of the twins, Runabout, turned and dug energon cubes out of a crate that had been hidden under a tarp. He found himself staring. It wasn't like any energon he’d ever seen. The fuel, rather than being a bright, smooth, fluid pink, was dull, thick, gritty, and colored a sort of muddy magenta. The cubes were also half-full, the energon inside sloshing as Runabout handed one to each of them.

Runabout passed two of the cubes to Gasket, who nodded his thanks and set one down. The other, he opened and held out to Blurr. “Here.” he said with a warm smile. 

He stared at the offered cube, one tiny part of him simultaneously grateful and ashamed that the mech had opened it for him. He reached for the cube with both servos, using his pincer-claws to grasp onto it. As he lifted it out of Gasket’s servos, his own shook, the liquid inside sloshing around. 

He brought it up to his helm, only to freeze. He didn’t have a mouth anymore. How would he fuel? In his panic, his grip slipped, and the cube tumbled from his claws. The energon inside splashed over the fire, making it flare briefly before it died down and crackled fainty.

Everyone stopped and stared, and Blurr curled in on himself. “I'm sorry.” he choked out. “I-I couldn’t grip it, and-and I don't know where my fuel intake is.” he said frantically.

Drift blinked, and then his expression twisted to one of sympathy. “Frag. So you're, like, new-new to all of this.” 

Blurr felt himself shudder. “I woke up in the junkyard around-” he tried to think. He’d lost time, but he had vague memory of Hadeen’s position. “Around mid-orn, I think.”

“Smelt me.” Drift cursed, shaking his helm and wincing.

Blurr viciously agreed with that sentiment.

A soft noise from Gasket made him look over. “Hey, Blue?” he said gently. “How about I give you mine, okay? And maybe I can feed it to you. Just for now. Until you get a hang of your servos. I can also help you find your fuel intake. I’ve met Emps before, I have an idea where to look.”

He stared at the mech, a part of him wanting to reject the offer, but could he afford to?

“Are you sure? It’s…it’s your fuel.”

Gasket smiled warmly. “I’m sure. You need it more than I do right now.”

After a moment, Blurr nodded. Gasket lifted his servos, reaching towards his helm. Blurr felt himself flinch away. The other mech slowed, shooting him a soft, almost sad smile. “May I?”

He swallowed the thickness in his throat and nodded. Gasket moved forward again, servos coming into contact with his helm. The contact felt…strange. Almost wrong. Gasket moved his servos slowly, until he reached under his chin and his servo and brushed something that made him perk up.

“Here we are!” Close to the base of his helm, where it joined his neck, Gasket’s fingers pressed over…something. “There’s a small panel here. Can you feel it? Try to open it. Some Emps have a retractable proboscis.”

He frowned, giving a dubious hum. He quickly cycled through his internal commands, landing on one that seemed promising. He activated it, and felt the panel gasket had indicated open. 

The mech peered at it, then sighed. “No proboscis, unfortunately.” He leaned back to meet Blurr’s gaze. “Are you okay with me pouring some energon in your intake? We can look for some sort of straw or tubing tomorrow.”

Blurr thought for a second, then gave a stiff nod. He was hungry. Hungry and too ashamed of wasting his first cube to insist on pride.

Gasket gave him that sad smile again. He reached for the other cube, opening it, then lifting it with one servo and using the other to gently tip his helm back. “Easy…” he soothed gently as the blue mech shook. He lifted the cube, then gently poured the fuel into the intake port. 

Blurr, to his own relief, found he had enough control to be able to swallow on his own. When the cube was emptied, Gasket set the cube down and the (former) racer shut the small panel and shuddered despite himself.

All four of the other mechs sent him sympathetic looks.

“Blue.” Gasket urged.

Blurr looked at him.

“Why don’t you stay with us a while? At least until you get your footing.” 

He glanced around, not seeing any disagreement from the others. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded, stark relief making him sag. 

“Yes. Please. Thank you.” he croaked.

Gasket hummed and patted his shoulder. “Good. We’re happy to have you, Blue. And if you decide to stick around permanently, you’re welcome to.” he smiled warmly. “Get some recharge, yeah? We’ll show you the ropes tomorrow.”

Blurr found himself nodding, the exhaustion of the day starting to drag him down now that most of the panic had faded to something duller. He settled down as comfortable as he could, optic flickering off, and soon found himself falling into recharge. 

Above him, the small crew talked in hushed whispers, planning the days to come.

And outside the borders of Dead End, the media broadcasts all ran the same story, all of them asking the same question:

"WHERE IS BLURR?"

———————————————————————————————————

So guess who got smacked over the head with more inspiration? I did! Which means you all get more of the empurata Blurr story! And more good news! I have a third (and final) chapter on the way. It'll come out in the coming days so long as real life does't slap me too hard. Also, please note this isn't beta read. If there's any glaring issues I'll catch them and correct them in a day or two but I wanted to post it in the meantime.

Anywho, please let me know what y'all think! Feedback is very motivating lmao. Until next time, folks!

[fortnite-headcanons]

drift is bisexual 🔥

Fortnite Headcanon #662

[mamawasatesttube]

Every time you rotate a character in your head, they come out a different gender. Like a trans microwave. Love that for you

it's true. every microwave i touch is trans actually i did just trans the gender of the leftovers i'm having for dinner when i heated them up just now. just like with tim drake

[nagitoedit]

looking at the shrek 5 teaser zendaya is meechee

[ivygorgon]

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦Out with Incest Laws: Reconsider Blood Quantum Laws in Native Reparations

An open letter to State Governors & Legislatures

1 so far! Help us get to 5 signers!

I am writing to express profound concerns about the continued reliance on Blood Quantum Laws, or Indian Blood Laws, in Native Reparations Programs. These laws, established by federal and state governments as far back as 1705, define Native American status based on fractions of Native American ancestry, perpetuating harmful consequences for tribal communities and some, alarmingly, terminating before just 5 generations.

The use of Blood Quantum Laws has led to detrimental effects on Native American families and communities. It has incentivized harmful family planning practices, compelling individuals to marry within close kin networks to maintain "pure bloodlines." This practice not only violates individual autonomy but also jeopardizes genetic diversity and the long-term viability of tribal populations.

Of utmost concern is the declining population within many tribal communities, with some nearing critical thresholds of fewer than 1000 individuals. This situation is further exacerbated by the principles of population biology, particularly the 50/500 rule, which underscores the need for a minimum population of 500 individuals to reduce genetic drift and ensure sustained viability. It is troubling to note that these laws inadvertently encourage cousin marriages, posing additional risks to community health and resilience.

Moreover, Blood Quantum Laws impose an arbitrary expiration date on government-funded reparations and jeopardize the cultural continuity of these communities. By tethering Native American status to ancestry thresholds, these laws undermine the diversity and autonomy of tribal enrollment criteria.

I urge policymakers to urgently reconsider the use of Blood Quantum Laws in Native Reparations Programs and advocate for a more inclusive and sustainable approach to reparations. This approach should prioritize the cultural and social integrity of Native American communities, safeguarding their continued existence and resilience for future generations.

Our villages were razed by colonizers, our ancestors were genocide survivors, and, as ever, our children bear the enduring impacts of historical injustices.

Thank you for considering these critical issues and taking decisive action to address them.

Source:

📱 Text SIGN PBDXGL to 50409

🤯 Liked it? Text FOLLOW IVYGORGON to 50409

[nejackdaw]

They would be friends

[caintooth]

none of you will ever understand drift compatibility the way DID systems understand it

[averinthine]

oh there's unanswered questions about my identity in here

[dorianbrightmusic]

prev tags, you win the internet today (allan barbie)