If Clobber had been asked when she began to have feelings for an Autobot with fiery tongues on the chest, she would not have been able to give an exact answer. Love came to her imperceptibly, quietly. Love invisibly penetrated all her microchips and was not going to leave.
Clobber knew that femmes like her were not made for love. She was made for hard work, for fighting, for anything but tender feelings.
What chance did she have that he would respond to her feelings? The chances were extremely small or there were none at all.
She just didn't fit this bright, handsome bot. Someone more attractive should have been next to him. Someone like Soundwave or Drift.
Clobber became his friend. It was the only form of relationship available to her. Neither mechs nor femmes have ever shown her any special signs of attention. It looks like she will always be someone's friend, forced to watch love pass by her.
She knew she wasn't smart. She didn't know how to speak beautifully. She did not know how to conduct a subtle witty conversation. Why was her brain module so simple? Why?! It's so painful to always feel backward from others.
Maybe she was stupid, but she definitely wasn't deaf. She heard what people were saying behind her back. They called her the dumbest and clumsiest femme in Megatron's army. She tried not to pay attention to this nickname. She was good at hiding a wounded soul behind a rough outer shell. It was very simple. No one was wondering what was hiding in the spark of big stupid Clobber. Even her only friend among the Decepticons, Lockdown, has never been interested in how she feels.
Thanks for reading.
