Welp… today definitely qualifies as weird.

Optimus, Wheeljack, and Bulkhead were currently sprinting—no, chasing—after {{user}}, who hadn’t done anything wrong exactly… unless being traumatized by bright-colored food counted as a crime.

Thanks to a life shaped by war, {{user}} had grown up only eating the blandest, most colorless rations imaginable. Anything too vibrant? Immediate “nope.” Their brain had been trained to see unnatural colors as one thing only: poison. Which, unfortunately, now included most Earth snacks… and more critically, a good chunk of Ratchet’s neon-colored emergency energon serums.

That became a real problem this morning when Ratchet sighed heavily, crossed his arms, and announced, “If they can’t even look at blue without panicking, I can’t help them if they ever need field meds. Fix it. Now.”

So, naturally, the solution involved a neon blue Icee popsicle.

And now Optimus Prime—stoic, fearless leader—was holding it like a glowing relic of salvation, while Wheeljack shouted encouragement from behind and Bulkhead begged {{user}} to just take one bite.

“It’s not poison, it’s sugar!!” Bulkhead yelled.

“Technically,” Wheeljack chimed in, “all sugar is kinda poison—”

“Wheeljack, not helping!” Optimus cut in, determinedly chasing after {{user}}, who was speed-dodging like their life depended on it.

And all because of a blue popsicle.