#bulkhead imagine

[capricorn-writes2]

Hey! Can I Get a headcannon of Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Optimus and Ratchet with S/O that got infected in cybonic plague?

Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Optimus and Ratchet with S/O Who Got Infected with Cybonic Plague

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I try my best to make the portrayal of their character based on their personality, and I would like to apologize for replying to the ask late because I had horrible carpal tunnel syndrome in my right hand and depression, and I had to focus on finding jobs as well as therapy. Thankfully, I graduated in July from my university and able to get a quick 6 months of internship before leaving to find a new job.

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Angst to Fluff, sickness, mention of injuries and Profanities

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OPTIMUS PRIME - Autobot

When Ratchet first tells Optimus you're infected, his spark clenches. He masks the fear behind his usual stoicism, but his optics dim. The Cybonic Plague is a deadly, ancient virus, and he vows silently that you will not meet the same fate.

Optimus spends long hours at your side, even when he should recharge. He watches your spark signature fluctuate on the monitor with quiet intensity. Every labored intake of your vents feels like a countdown ticking louder.

He searches the archives for ancient medical data, something even Alpha Trion once wrote. Sleepless and single-minded, he sifts through fragments of forgotten science. If the answer lies buried in the Well of All Sparks itself, he’ll find it.

When Megatron offers a cure to him but in exchange a cruel price. Optimus would consider surrendering himself if it means you’ll live going through Megatron’s database to get the cure. He volunteers instantly to deliver it, no matter the danger.

Inside your subconscious, he finds a corrupted image of yourself. It’s terrified, glitching, dissolving into plague data. He kneels beside it, shielding you with his own spark energy.

The process nearly destabilizes both of you. Your systems scream under the pressure, and Optimus begins to fade. But his spark surges, wrapping you in protective light.

After what feels like forever, your optics flicker back online. You see him there, battered and dim, but smiling just for you. “You… stayed,” you rasp, and he nods, servos brushing your cheekplate.

Recovery is slow, and he never rushes you. He adjusts your routines, brings Energon himself, and reads to you aloud. No mission takes priority over your healing, not even war. He keeps a fragment of your corrupted code stored away safely. Not as a reminder of the pain, but of the strength you showed.

Your near-loss changes him, even if subtly. He becomes gentler in the quiet moments, less afraid to show his affection. When you reach for his servo now, he squeezes back without delay. He lets you stay by his side in the command center now.

Sometimes, he wakes up from recharge fearing he lost you again. You always pull him close, resting your helm against his chest plate as your arms wrap around him to comfort your sparkmate. “No plague. No pain. I’m here,” you remind him.

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The first symptom was a flicker. Just a minor glitch in your visual sensors, nothing big, just a half-second blackout that you chalked up to fatigue. But then came the spasms. Your servo twitched, then locked. The base lights blurred, the floor shifted beneath your feet, and Ratchet’s voice faded into a muffled hum. By the time you collapsed in the medbay, Optimus was already on one knee beside you, calling your name repeatedly.

Ratchet’s diagnosis was quick, in a second, and brutal: the Cybonic Plague. A virus from Cybertron’s darkest past. You barely heard the details, lost in a haze of heat and static, but through the buzzing in your head, you caught one thing: from your receptor, the fear in Optimus’s voice. No, he didn’t shout; he didn’t panic. He never did. But when he asked, “Ratchet, is there a cure?” The weight behind his words could’ve cracked stone.

You drifted in and out of stasis, each moment flickering between memory and dream. Sometimes you were back on Cybertron, laughing in golden-lit corridors. Other times, you were locked inside your own mind, fighting the virus as it twisted your code. On the other hand, the leader of the Autobots sat beside you, silent, his servo resting against yours.

When your vitals began to crash, Ratchet proposed a dangerous solution: someone had to enter your mind through a neural link and manually inject the cure. Optimus didn’t hesitate. “Prepare the link,” he said. "Optimus Prime, Are you sure?" Ratchet was surprised. The medic even warned him of the risk, of the chance he might not return, but Optimus had already decided. “She is worth the risk.”

Inside your mindscape, the virus had created a corrupted version of you. It was ugly, fractured, glitching, and afraid. Optimus found you there, curled in a pit of static. He didn’t rush to pull you out; instead, he knelt beside you, his sparklight flickering in the dark like a pulse. “You’re stronger than this,” he said, his voice echoing like thunder through the data storm. “And I’m not leaving without you,” His voice was louder. You reached for him with a trembling servo as his hand gently held your hand.

The battle inside your mind was like drowning in code, each surge of infection trying to rewrite who you were. But with every wave, Optimus pushed back, pouring light into the cracks. He shielded you with part of his own spark signature, even as his systems began to flicker too. “Stay,” he whispered when your form began to fade. “Stay with me.” And this time, you did.

You woke to the soft hiss of medbay monitors and the familiar warmth of his servo against yours. Your optics blinked open, and there he was, damaged, dim, but alive. And smiling. “You’re back,” he said, as if those two words were enough to rewrite the universe. You tried to speak, but all you could do was nod, the heat of tears burning behind your eyes. He leaned forward, pressing his helm gently to yours. “I believe in you; I know you could do it.”

Recovery was slow, but he was patient. He helped you walk again, holding you up when your joints trembled. He sat through quiet recharge cycles with you, read aloud during your checkups, and let the others take the front lines so he could stay close. The war could wait, he told them. Because for the first time in a long while, the hope had won against the cybonic plague virus.

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RATCHET - Autobot

Warning: The doctor is tsundere

The moment Ratchet scans you and detects the Cybonic Plague, his spark skips a beat. He double-checks the readings, then checks them again. But the data doesn’t lie, your code is breaking down. “…No. No, no, not them. Not you,” he mutters while already grabbing tools.

He doesn’t even try to hide how shaken he is, there’s no time for pride. His servo trembles for the first time in centuries. You try to joke about him being dramatic while the rust starts to form, but he silences you with a look.

Ratchet keeps a close vigil at your bedside, monitoring blinking over your spark signature. He rarely leaves your side, only to mix compounds or pace violently. The others offer help, but he snaps at them without meaning to.

He digs into archives older than the war itself to find a possible cure. Your medical file grows thicker by the hour, stained with energon smudges. He barely recharges, too afraid that he’ll wake to silence from your berth. Your steady pulse is the only thing keeping him from destroying himself.

When your systems crash temporarily, Ratchet genuinely breaks down. He slams a servo into the wall, a spark roaring behind his chassis. The monitors scream, and he’s barking orders at the others like a war general. No one dares disobey him when you're on the line.

He eventually constructs a prototype antivirus—but testing it is risky. Ratchet debates for only seconds before deciding: he'll inject it directly. If it fails, it could speed up the deterioration… But doing nothing is worse. “Better to die trying than to watch you fade.”

He injects the cure with a shaky servo, optics locked on your frame. You seize up, systems sparking, and he nearly overloads from panic. But then your vitals stabilize a little. It was not perfect, but enough. He doesn’t breathe until your optics flutter open.

He’s exhausted, hunched over your berth like a rusted-out frame. When you whisper his name, his entire posture softens. “Don't ever do that again,” he says quietly, voice raw. But there's relief under the gruffness, and it bleeds through.

Ratchet orders a full scan every two hours after your recovery. No exceptions, no excuses, even if you insist you're fine or if you just have a simple cough from dust. It’s annoying… but deeply sweet in a Ratchet kind of way.

He brings you energon personally, even if he pretends it's 'standard check-in protocol'. He triple-checks its composition, temperature, and nutritional balance. When you smile at him, He huffs and mutters, “Don’t get used to this.”

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You were just teasing him over another one of his grumpy lectures when it happened. A sharp pain cracked through your spark, and suddenly your systems seized up, dropping you to your knees. Ratchet barely caught you in time, optic panels wide in alarm, shouting your name like it was a medical emergency code. “No, no, no! Stay with me!” He barked, already scanning you with shaky, frantic digits.

The diagnosis was something Ratchet had hoped he’d never see again: the Cybonic Plague. A virus so ancient and insidious that even whispering its name made bots flinch. You were already twitching, glitching, fighting to hold onto reality as the virus gnawed at your code like rust in your processor.

Ratchet didn’t react with panic. No, panic was inefficient. But his voice lost its edge of sarcasm, and his hands never once stopped moving. “You are not dying on my table.” The others offered help "Ratchet What happened?!" Bulkhead asks with panic in his voice. "We can help you," Arcee tried to step up as Bumblebee buzzes.

But Ratchet didn’t let anyone else touch you. Instead, his optics silently glare at the other Autobot teammates and blocking them away. “No one knows their system like I do!” he snapped, the words heavy with something more than professional pride. "You all step away from (Y/N)!"

He worked tirelessly for hours, then days, ignoring recharge and energon warnings, digging through corrupted Cybertronian medical files older than Orion Pax. You were more than just a patient. You were the only one who’d ever made the old medic feel again, you're his sparkmate and the only one who could understand him.

Every time your spark signature flickered, something in Ratchet faltered. He’d pace the medbay like a caged beast, muttering equations under his breath, cursing the virus and whatever careless god had let it survive this long. He really wishes that time Megatron hadn't made a virus as the biology weapon as he remember all of those passing comrades who rusted away from the cybonic. Even when Optimus offered to assist, Ratchet nearly shouted him down. “Don’t take this from me! I have to be the one to save (Y/N)!”

When your systems dipped into emergency stasis, Ratchet broke protocol. He ignored the risks, activated a neural bridge, and entered your mind full in desperation and determination. Inside, your consciousness was a mess of static and corrupted data. He found you in the center of it, your voice distorted and broken, barely able to reach out. But he knelt beside you anyway, optics locked on yours, his touch gentle as he whispered, “I am not losing you, too.”

Fighting the plague from the inside was like performing surgery in a hurricane. Every data spike you sent at him nearly knocked him offline. But he kept moving forward, shielding you with pieces of his spark signature, injecting the antivirus into your core line of code while taking damage himself. “You're worth every scratch,” he said quietly, even when you begged him to leave. “Don’t ask me to walk away from the only thing that makes me feel alive.”

You came back slowly, stuttering and disoriented, optics dim but conscious. Ratchet was there, slouched in his chair, faceplate smudged with energon and exhaustion. When your hand twitched, his optics widened, and the relief that washed over him nearly dropped him to the floor. “You stubborn glitch,” he whispered, and for once there was no bite in his voice. Just soft gratitude, like your survival had rebooted something inside him.h

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WHEELJACK - Autobot

Wheeljack doesn’t panic often, but the moment Ratchet says 'Cybonic Plague' his spark freezes. He clenches his servos so tightly they spark. He’s used to battlefield injuries, not watching someone he loves slip away without a fight. “You’re not fraggin’ leaving me,” he growls, already planning something reckless.

He tries to play it cool around the others, but you can tell he’s on edge. His optics flicker faster, and he paces like a caged beast. He gets into three arguments and almost punches a wall in the first hour. No one dares call him out, except maybe Ratchet.

He hates not being able to fight the plague with his blades or explosives. But he sits beside you anyway, blades sheathed, just watching you breathe. Because being there is the only fight he can win right now.

Wheeljack once storms into the medbay covered in Energon because he thought you flatlined. Turns out it was just a system recalibration. Ratchet yells at him for scaring everyone and nearly bleeding out but he doesn't care, he just wants to see your condition.

When Ratchet finally gets a possible cure, Wheeljack insists on testing it himself. He offers his own code as a host “Load me with it. I can take it.” Ratchet refuses, but Wheeljack doesn’t stop trying to bargain.

He holds you through the injection of the antivirus, despite Ratchet’s warnings. You’re spasming, screaming, nearly overheating, but he won’t leave. His armor gets scorched, his frame rattles with yours. “Easy, sweetspark. You’re tougher than this thing. Just hold on.”

Once you are awake when your vital stabilized, , he cracks the dumbest joke to make you smile. It’s so bad you groan, but it breaks the tension. Of course he does this is because he wants to distract you and himself from what just happened.

He actually hugs Ratchet after the cure works, and then immediately denies it. The medic bot would pushes him away, rejecting his hugs but secretly the doc was smirking and says nothing. Everyone at base teases him about it for weeks.

Wheeljack would secretly builds a private recharge chamber for the two of you. It’s lined with Wrecker badges and LED lights shaped like stars. It is a sanctuary for you two.

He puts your spark signature into his own HUD overlay. He monitors it 24/7, even when you're fully recovered. Says it helps him 'focus' but you know it just helps him breathe easier because after what hapened he became twice more protective around you as he tries not to show it (but it's too obvious).

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You didn’t even feel it at first. Just a flicker in your HUD, a small static delay in your vision. You chalked it up to a power drain or a bad line of code from your last mission. But when your limbs started locking up mid-step and your systems spat out unfamiliar alerts, you knew something was wrong.

The moment Wheeljack caught you collapsing in the hallway, optics wide and frantic, you knew things were about to get worse before they got better. He carried you like you weighed nothing, sprinting to the medbay with a speed that would’ve impressed Flash from the DC Universe.

Ratchet was already scanning your systems before your optics flickered out. His voice is grim, “It’s Cybonic Plague.” That’s when Wheeljack went completely still. Not in fear but in that deadly kind of stillness that comes before a storm. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. “Because if you’re wrong—” “THE DATA IS NOT WRONG!” Ratchet snapped. "Get out of my way and let me try to save them.” But Wheeljack didn’t leave after Ratcher ordered him.

He stayed by your side like a guardian drone, arms crossed, pacing only when the tremors in your frame got bad. He didn’t speak unless spoken to, but the tension rolled off him in waves like a bomb waiting for someone to trigger it. His fists were clenched the entire time, even when your body seized and your vents wheezed like you were drowning on dry air. “I’ve seen ‘bots fall apart in my hands,” he muttered one night, eyes locked on your dimmed optics. “Never thought it’d hurt like this.” His voice cracked for just a second before he stuffed it down.

No one else saw that moment. He made sure of it. But you heard it—through the haze of pain and corrupted data, you heard the fragging heartbreak in his voice. The worst night came when your spark signal flatlined for 4.3 seconds. Ratchet got it back, but Wheeljack didn’t speak for an hour after. Not one word.

He just stared at you like he was memorizing everything in case it was the last time. When you jolted awake with a scream during the antivirus injection, he held you down himself, letting your thrashing scorch the paint off his arms. “Easy, sweetheart. Come on. I’ve got you,” he whispered like a promise.

When it was finally over, and your vitals stabilized, he didn’t cheer like the others. He just slumped into the wall and let his optics close. You’d never seen Wheeljack rest before, it was almost unsettling. He didn’t speak until you weakly reached for his servo, and he took it like it was the most precious thing in the universe. “Welcome back,” he whispered, smiling with that cocky lopsided grin that always made your spark flutter. “Told you you were tougher than scrap.”

Late at night, when the others were recharging and the base had gone still, he’d sit beside your berth and tell you Wrecker stories, a wild, impossible tales of explosive stunts and near-death victories. But there was always a pause at the end. A breath. A moment where he looked down at your frame and whispered, “Nothing I survived out there scared me half as much as this did.”

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BULKHEAD - Autobot

Bulkhead instantly panics the moment you stumble mid-step. You’ve handled worse injuries before, but this was different. Your optics dimmed, and your balance gave out. He caught you before you hit the ground, yelling your name so loud it echoed through the base.

When Ratchet announces it’s Cybonic Plague, Bulkhead nearly shuts down. He’s heard of it, he’s lost Wrecker comrades to it in the war, and the thought of you having it nearly crushes him.

Bulkhead refuses to leave your side, even when ordered to. He snaps, “I don’t care if Megatron walks through that door. I’m not leaving them.” Miko tries to convince him to get some rest, but he just shakes his head.

He strokes your helm gently whenever you’re unconscious. It’s a side of Bulkhead few ever get to see, soft, wordless care. His massive servos are surprisingly gentle, brushing away coolant leaks and static from your face. Sometimes he whispers old Wrecker stories, just to fill the silence.

He threatens to storm the Decepticon base for a cure if needed. When Ratchet mentions the cure once came from Soundwave’s systems, Bulkhead's optics flash with rage. “Tell me where, and I’ll smash my way through if I have to.” The team knows he means it.

When Ratchet tests an experimental antivirus, Bulkhead is the first to volunteer to help. He doesn’t care about the risks. “If it saves them, then I’ll take ‘em all.” He’s the wall that keeps everyone moving forward.

He keeps a record of your vitals and treatment schedule. It’s scrawled in messy handwriting on datapads. “Just in case someone else gets sick. I want them to have a head start.” Even in your worst moment, he’s thinking about helping others.

When your systems finally begin to purge the virus, he almost collapses with relief. “They’re stabilizing,” Ratchet says. Bulkhead just lets out a broken laugh. “You fraggin’ did it, sweetspark!” The first time you speak after recovery, he nearly sobs.

He organizes a celebration after your full recovery, but it's more of a quiet hangout with the team. He brings Energon treats and music, keeping you close. The way he smiles when you're laughing? Pure sunshine.

He starts spoiling you with homemade energon treats. They’re not great. He accidentally makes them too spicy, too sweet, or too burnt. But he tries, and he beams every time you take a bite. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

Even after you recover fully, he watches you like a hawk. He pretends to be casual, but you catch him staring every few minutes. “What? Can’t I look at my favorite bot?” he teases. But deep down, he’s still guarding your spark with all he’s got.

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Bulkhead had seen a lot in his time, explosions, Decepticon traps, close calls that would make any normal mech fold under pressure. But nothing could have prepared him for the moment you collapsed right in front of him. One minute you were laughing, teasing him about how slow he was on recon, the next, your legs gave out, and you hit the ground with a terrifying clang. “(Y/N)?!” he shouted, running to you so fast the ground shook beneath his feet.

Your optics flickered, static buzzing through your words. You tried to smile. Primus, you tried, but all that came out was a pained whisper of his name. Ratchet didn’t need a scan to know something was wrong. “We need to get them to the medbay. Now.” Bulkhead didn’t wait for anyone else; he scooped you up like fragile crystal, whispering your name like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

The word 'Cybonic' nearly made him drop. He’d heard it before, on the battlefield, whispered like a curse. It was a plague that turned circuitry against itself, shutting down bots from the inside. “ You’re kidding,” he muttered to Ratchet, his voice cracking. But the medic just gave that grim look he always wore when hope was wearing thin.

Bulkhead never left your side. He sat beside your medberth with Miko’s blanket wrapped awkwardly around his shoulders, your servo gripped tightly in his own. He didn’t care if the others thought he was being dramatic; he’d rather be dramatic than alone. Every time your frame spasmed or your systems flickered, he flinched like he’d been hit. It was like watching the world end, one glitch at a time. “C’mon, Y/N… you’re stronger than this,” he murmured on the third day, optics bloodshot from lack of recharge.

His voice was soft, nothing like the boisterous Wrecker tone everyone knew. “You still owe me that race through the canyon, remember?” His laughter broke into static halfway through, and he leaned forward, pressing your servo to his cheekplate.

On the sixth day, your vitals dropped, and Ratchet yelled something Bulkhead didn’t understand, some medical code, some numbers, some urgent demand. But all Bulkhead could see was the way your body arched, seizing, like it was rejecting life itself. “No, no, no! Stay with me, (Y/N)!” he begged, almost in tears. The world blurred, and he wasn’t the strong, dependable Wrecker anymore. He was just a mech in love, losing his everything.

When you stabilized the next morning, he didn’t dare believe it at first. Ratchet hesitated, then finally said, “They’re responding to the treatment.” Bulkhead didn’t say anything. He just slumped forward, his forehead resting gently against yours, shaking. You were still there. You were still here.

The day your optics lit up fully again, the first thing you saw was Bulkhead slumped in a recharge chair next to your berth, snoring loudly, with dried energon streaks staining his cheek. You reached out and poked his shoulder. He jolted up like he’d been shot, optics wide. “Y/N?!” he shouted, voice cracking. You smiled. “Hey, big guy.”

The energon tears shed openly, and unashamedly. Not the silent kind, not the pretend-tough tears. Real ones. He gathered you in his arms so gently it nearly hurt, rocking you like you were the last spark in the universe. “Never—never—scare me like that again,” he whispered. You could feel the tremble in his voice, but beneath all of it… you felt the safest you’d ever been.

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[lunarbreaksblog]

Can I have headcanons for the TFA bots + Elite guard bots with a cybertronian reader (who came to life by an allspark fragment) who's very Bob Ross-esque I feel like if they got pissed off enough they would yell but it happens very rarely, they also either have an RPG Cannon or a sword and shield as a weapon.

I feel like they would see beauty and everything, nature especially, so they just paint it a lot. I also feel like they would sell their paintings for free, sell it to auctions and they also get commissions from people as well.

TFA! Bots + Elite Guards X Artist!Cybertronian!Reader

You had never known Cybertron or space, the beautiful ethereal vastness of space. It wanted to lead you to every galaxy, show you everything and share its knowledge with you.

But you were never born in the stars, you were born on a organic planet that seemed to welcome you however, it had moments where it resented you. With moments of harsh rain rusting your body and lighting nearly making you offline at times.

Yet, you found beauty in it, the way plants seem to grow, the way the air seemed to shimmer with heat on hot days and how the inhabitants of the planet. Humans, seemed memorised and busy with a life span shorter than yours.

You think you've been on this plant since 1890 or somewhere around there, when humans were just figuring out electricity.

A fallen star had clashed with a steam train and thus you were created.

You never knew Cybertron or any of it inhabitants but still you painted it somehow and created vast illustrations of space.

So, when it become the 21st century you were surprised with the arrival of the Autobots, they were highly suspicious and cautious of you however you were a curious oddity to them.

Optimus prime:

He had never seen a cybertronian as big and lanky as you. Never seen an autobot that big, only Decepticons. But, he was sure you weren't one.

You were too nice and helpful.

Also you painted, which Optimus highly doubts Decepticons would take the time to paint.

Bumblebee:

He's a bit cheeky with you, likes to annoy you to get a rise out of you but you generally couldn't hurt a fly so you just stood there and took it

Eventually Ratchet scolds bumblebee out about being mean to you and saying that you don't know everything and to leave you alone

Ratchet:

He is quite annoyed at you naive nature however, he likes that you come to him to learn more about your home planet that technically wasn't your home but was in a way.

Loves that you paint, you draw Cybertron so well even if you haven't seen it. You also draw earthy nature so beautifully.

Bulkhead:

Loves that you paint as well! He asks if he and you can have paint dates, as friends of course (Bulkhead might have a crush on you)

He loves learning earthian art techniques from you and he teaches you cybertronian techniques in return.

Let's just say you and Bulkhead can talk hours about artwork.

Prowl:

Similar with Bulkhead, you can also talk hours about artwork and now nature! You tell him about your journey through the Americas and how nature and humankind has reshaped the world you first knew.

He just listens to you silently as you ramble on about animals, plants and even rocks.

He enjoys it.

Jazz:

When the elite guards visits, Jazz is immediately taken back by your presence around prowl, he can immediately pick up that you've become prowls new favorite mystery.

Even though you've told everyone your story with a smile, he can still see the tiredness and heaviness of the world in your optics.

But you somehow manage to make it through

He and Prowl help you with your art donations and auctions to humans and even the occasional cybertronian when Jazz takes some of your work back to teh planet.

Sentinel prime:

Is absolutely repulsed by you.

He doesn't wanna go near you and your weird rust and your whole weird body. Likes your paintings tho, just won't admit it and when questioned he says that Cybertron isn't your home and you shouldn't pretend to be something youre not.

The glare everyone gives him makes him regret his words alot.

Ultra Magnus:

You are a little bit taller than him, much more lean and lanky than him as well. He thought you were an enemy at first but after Optimus had spoken to him about you. He just felt pity for you.

Another allspark fragment coming to life in the wrong environment. You even drew Cyberton even though it wasn't your actual home.

He won't admit it but youre life just makes him sad.

Never really talks to you, just nods and walks away.

[mountaingutta]

Some headcanons about my favorite aliens (TFP)

Orion tease Megatronus about the shape of his helmet.

Megatronus constantly teases Ratchet about his height. One day, as revenge, Ratchet unscrewed his legs while he was asleep.

Before the war, many well-known Decepticons and Autobots were on the Senate's “elimination list.” Naturally, both Optimus and Megatron topped it.

Most bots either deactivated or completely removed their reproductive systems during the war. They did it to install new upgrades, make the frame faster, stronger, and remove an unnecessary component that was draining body energy. For some, those systems were severely damaged.

Ratchet sing serenades under Orion's window, maneuvering on the Cybertronian equivalent of a motorcycle while playing guitar.

Orion tells everyone Alpha Trion found him in a dumpster. In truth, he was discovered in an abandoned temple deep in a forest, feral and surrounded by a pack of cyber-wolves. When Ratchet asked why he keeps spreading the dumpster story, Orion replied "Jazz and Ariel find it funny" - "Because the three of you share half a processor between you"

Ratchet and Ironhide welded Jazz to the ceiling at least once.

Ratchet ran away from home to study in Iacon. He didn’t return until after he’d earned his medic’s license.

When Ratchet introduced Orion to his family as his partner, every single one of them threatened him to treat Orion well.

Miko loves learning foreign languages. In the future, she'll either become the best pilot in the world, one of the most renowned linguistics experts — or both.

She has three dads — a caring one, a crazy one, and a strict stepdad who doesn’t know he’s her dad yet.

Arcee is obsessed with anything shiny.

Ratchet used to call Orion “dolly”

During the war, Megatron put a bounty on every Autobot medic. As for Ratchet, he ordered him taken alive or, if killed, to bring him his hands.

Jack runs a food blog. At first, it was supposed to be just a fast-food blog — but Jack quickly realized he gets enough of that at work. Optimus suggested he explore traditional dishes from different countries and turn the blog into that instead. They are researching this together.

One of his followers asked why he chose that particular topic for the blog, and Jack, without thinking, said, “My dad suggested it…” Then he just "Wait! no — I meant this one dude... "

Soundwave plays a video game on the Nemesis mainframe. He has a nemesis in-game with the username “Needawrench12.3/4.” It's Raf.

During the game, Soundwave tries to use typical insults like "I'll fuck your mother". And when Raf reads this, he looks at Ratchet and writes back "Your dick won't last."

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(Transformers Prime) You Ask Them to Drive You for Ice Cream

Optimus Prime: It depends on what's going on. He has a lot on his mind, but there is also a curiosity about the ways of people. If he's swamped with Prime responsibilities, he may suggest you inquire with Bumblebee or Bulkhead to take you instead. But on a good day, he just might pull away from his duties and take you himself. When he learns that going for ice cream is also a method of cheering someoneup, he'll offer to take you if he thinks you could use it.

Bumblebee: Absolutely! He is the most enthusiastic about a request like this. As long as he isn't in the middle of a throwdown with Decepticons, all you have to do is say the word. He loves any opportunity to go for a drive, and especially enjoys seeing you happy once you have the sweet treat.

Ratchet: Will say no immediately without hesitation. However... that isn't his final answer every time. His first instinct is to wave off the request and say he has too much to do, and that there's no time for silly Earth customs. But you've grown on him. He just might change his mind after a minute or two of thinking it over. He'll never admit it, but underneath the attitude, it warms his spark to see you so happy over something so simple.

Bulkhead: He'll take you, no problem. He likes getting out of the base, and it makes him glad to see you enjoying your treat. He will definitely note this custom and offer to take you anytime he sees you feeling down, or if you just need to take your mind off anything stressful.

Arcee: She'll shrug with a, "yeah, sure." She's not exactly over the moon about it, but not at all opposed. Any opportunity to zoom out of base for a bit is worth it. After seeing how it made you happy, she might nonchalantly offer to take you in the future, playing it off like it's something she's doing begrudgingly. But actually, she enjoys it.

[weenwrites]

Can i request how Bee, Bulk, wheeljack would react with a Reader who doesn't have a bot guardian, but finds one in the rival Con of the bots said(ex: Knockout, Breakdown, Dreadwing)?

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Bumblebee

Naturally Bumblebee's distrustful of any Decepticon, and can you really blame him given all his prior experiences with the cons over the course of the war? But outside of where Knockout's loyalty lies, Bumblebee will argue that he's kidnapped and hurt humans before, he's not above torture and other unethical practices, and like a majority of the other Decepticons he's selfish. He's overall a bad influence on you, and Bumblebee will try his hardest to convince you such.

Bulkhead

A lot of people were surprised he didn't get any whiplash with the way his head practically snapped when he saw you being all buddy-buddy with Breakdown. To say that he's concerned for you would be one hell of an understatement, he's struggling to keep himself from pushing you aside from his nemesis even as you try to explain that you're friends. Bulkhead knows Breakdown in a way that you don't, he knows the ugliest, most horrific side of him that you're yet to see, but he wants to keep you as far away from him as possible before you get to see it.

Wheeljack

Dreadwing has earned his respect to some degree, and Wheeljack will give him that, but he'll still hold Dreadwing's past to him and stand starkly against the two of you being friends. He'll argue that you don't understand just how dangerous Dreadwing can be, you haven't seen the stuff he's done out on the battlefield and just how many bots he's killed. He killed Seaspray, he's nearly blown Bulkhead into a billion pieces, heck--he's lost count of how many times everyone's been met with a bomb to the back because of him. Sure he's an honorable Decepticon warrior and abides by some code of chivalry or whatever, but he's still as sneaky and deceptive as any filthy con on that ship, ergo he's not friend-material and you're just too blind to see that.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

I wonder how would bots and elite guard react to ultra magnus having a sparkling who is just a tiny bean and loves their sire a lot but they decide to explore outside and they get lost

-Optimus' is already all over Detroit, putting up missing posters, asking civilians if they've seen the sparkling and turning over every vehicle to look for them. He's almost more frantic than Ultra Magnus himself. Since he kinda sees Earth, Detroit especially, as his responsibility, he feels like it's his duty to find the sparkling. Really worried that someone, either human or decepticon, might find the sparkling first and kidnap them.

-Ratchet is worried about the health of the sparkling. Cybertronians that young are very fragile, even when compared to humans, and who knows what a young sparkling might mistake as fuel and ingest? Is also searching for the sparkling but mostly does that by just driving around the city, shouting their name.

-Bumblebee isn't panicking because he's confident that the sparkling will be fine and that they will find it soon enough. Makes it kind of a game, where the victor is the one that first finds the sparkling. Sees it as a way to prove himself and prove that he is reliable.

-Bulkhead, while not as frantic as Optimus, is not quite as calm as Bumblebee. He does think everything will turn out ok in the end but he still decides to help to look for the sparkling. He mostly focuses on keeping Optimus and the others calm, though he's no very good at it. Lifts vehicles and calls out the name of the sparkling loudly while looking for them.

-Prowl is wasting no time when it comes to looking for the missing sparkling. Not because he's all that worried about their safety (he truly believes they will be fine), he's mostly just annoyed by everyone panicking. The faster he finds the sparkling, the faster people will stop freaking out. Optimus has already had three panic attacks and it is starting to get on Prowl's nerves.

-Ultra Magnus is aging rapidly with stress because WHAT DO YOU MEAN HIS SPARKLING IS LOST ON AN ALIEN WORLD??? No, it's ok, he's calm, don't worry. Tries to keep his cool but it's obvious that he is very affected by the disappearance of his child. He's on the streets of Detroit, flipping over vehicles and benches and asking random humans if they have seen his kid.

-Sentinel is like "of course the Magnus' sparkling went missing on this hellhole of a planet". Is determined to be the one to find the sparkling and bring them back to Ultra Magnus, for recognition and praise of course, though when he realizes that looking for the lil bot means he's got to actually wander Detroit? Ugh. UGH. He's so unhappy about it. Mostly uses the jettwins, making them search for him.

-Jazz, like Prowl, is sure that the sparkling will be fine but still wastes no time in looking for them. Yeah, they will be found soon enough but they might be in distress right now and he wants to avoid them getting any unnecessary trauma. Works hard to calm down the Magnus.

-Jetfire and Jetstorm takes the job of finding the missing sparkling with outmost seriousness. One of them is on the ground, the other in the air. They are invested but, eh, the way they talk it kinda sounds as if they are looking for a missing cat. "Here bitty-bitty! Come to brother Jetstorm! I've got a treat for you!" They mean well but Primus.

[lazypanartist]

Mmmmm.... No braincells rn. So. Uh. Barely NSFW if you squint? W/ Megatron, Starscream, Breakdown.. idk. Any bot/con who's considered a "brute" and needs more love, really.

(If you have favs that fit lmk so I can tag 'em!!)

-----

He always held you softly, like you were made of glass. A moment from shattering in his massive grip, but too precious to not hold so close to his spark.

He wasn't used to the softness. Your character, your skin, your clothes. It was almost too much. And yet he couldn't stop himself from seeking more, his digits testing your boundaries, searching for whatever could be deemed the softest bit of your fragile self.

Your hands - so miniscule compared to his servos, tiny digits curving between two of his own, a gentle squeeze moulding you to the shape of him.

Your legs, soft and yet so strong, giving beneath his touch but able to hold your weight - not that he considered it to be a chore.

He thought it might be your lips, though - tiny, pliant, pink. He couldn't help himself, reaching out to poke at them gently, watching as they turned down for a moment before splitting into a grin, squishing easily beneath his gentle prodding.

Yes, it had to be. Soft, gentle, beautiful - he equated the words with your entirety, but the little smile you beamed up at him sealed your lips as the softest part of you.

[spikesnvalves]

I feel like the bigger the bot, the fatter the valve y'know?

Big fat pussies for big fat bots/cons that others can genuinely smother their face in.

I need Optimus to be so obsessed over Bulkhead because of this. Or anyone on the team really, Big Bulky Boy needs some good head and a few overstimulation sessions if ya ask me.

I want bumblebee to completely disappear under bulkhead, for him to ask "are you okay?" And bumblebee can only give a delirious thumbs up as lubricant smears completely across his face, drinking that shit up.

Suck that clit like a spike and don't stop till Bulkheads basically seize when you breath on it.

[dragqueenstarscream]

i don't think people realize how scary bulkhead can be under the right circumstances. like yeah, big strong tough destroyer robot, but people don't get how downright terrifying an angry bulkhead can be.

remember that part in tfp where he got injured and couldn't switch to his alt mode? imagine him being so angry at you for whatever reason that he doesn't even bother to switch to his alt mode, he just fucking charges you down. it doesn't matter what's in his way, because he'll crash right through it like it's made of paper. he might be lumbering and top heavy, but he's fuckin FAST when he's motivated enough, fast enough to give alt mode bee a run for his money. everything and everyone around him crumbles to the ground, a twisted mess of rubble and metal, all nothing but an obstacle as he does everything in his seemingly limitless power to hunt you down and end you.

don't piss off the nice ones.

[authoratmidnight]

extremely silly thought but. given that the Bots spend plenty of time around humans, they're bound to know what 'mom' and 'dad' are, even as a concept(assuming they don't already know).

so consider, Ratchet being Ratchet, nagging them out of concern or something, till one of them just goes 'ok mom' extremely sarcastically(they picked it up from the humans/human tv).

(and the humans just back them up like 'nono, you sound just like my mom')

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!Bulkhead x Human!Reader Headcanons

💚 You're so much smaller than Bulkhead. It's the first thing he thinks when he sees you for the first time. And yeah, all humans are smaller than him - but with you, it's emphasized to him. For some reason, being around you makes him… Nervous. Not a bad kind of nervousness, it's just… You're so cute. And fragile! What if he accidentally steps on you? He actually goes out his way to avoid you for a time. At some point, you have to ask Miko if you did something to upset Bulkhead. He talks to the other humans just fine, but the moment you walk into a room or want a moment alone, he bolts! Miko is able to drag him into talking it out with you, Bulkhead making up an excuse about thinking you might not like him, which you thankfully take at face value.

🛞 Spending more time with you causes Bulkhead's infatuation with you to become deeper and more intense. He can't help it, there's just so much to love about you. Not his fault, right? Not his fault that he wants to talk with you so much. Talking with you comes so naturally and it just feels so right when you're together. And your voice is just music to his audials. He loves learning about you, what you like to do, your interests, what you think about the world and humanity, trading stories together. Something in his spark says you were always meant to meet.

💚 If you have a close relationship with Miko, you basically have the key to his spark. He absolutely adores his sparkling charge and will adore you all the more if you have a good relationship with her. He'd love to do stuff with the three of you together! Jamming out to Miko's favorite metal tracks, watching as you both play one of her racing games, trying to get Miko to study… You seem to care for a great deal, and you know Bulkhead has taken on a more parental role than even Miko's host parents… Could that mean you want to be a family together just as much as him?

🛞 You give Bulkhead a reason to fight even harder than before. He's lost so much already. Family, friends, his home world. But, with you here, it becomes easier to think of Earth as a home now. And it makes him all the more worried for your safety. What if a 'Con realizes you're affiliated with the autobots? What if they try to take you away from him - or worse?! He begins trying to follow you around without your notice - trying being the key word, considering you're well acquainted with his altmode. Bulkhead tries to insist him popping up near you on multiple occasions is pure coincidence. If that fails, he'll try to find reasons to keep you in the base as long as possible. In fact, maybe you could sleep over the night? Move in, maybe…?

💚 When Bulkhead gets jealous or protective, it's obvious. He doesn't think any of his fellow autobots would try to steal you from him, but it does make him a bit antsy when you talk to the others without him for too long. He'll either join in and move close to you or try to coax you away to do something with him instead. And if you ever caught the eye of the Decepticon… Forget about them coming back to the Nemesis in one piece, they may never return at all. It makes Bulkhead so proud. You've unlocked a brutality inside the wrecker he hadn't even realized he held back. He'd destroy all of them for you. To keep you safe.

🛞 Bulkhead thought he'd be fine with just being friends with you, but at some point, it's just not enough anymore. He wants to hold you, kiss you, tell you just how much he adores you and wants you to feel the same. You're his best friend (don't tell Jackie!) His everything. And you and he would be the perfect parents for Miko. Wouldn't it be perfect? To be a family? If you accept, there's no words for how happy he'd be. Gently, he'd sweep you into his arms and hold you close, telling you how happy you make him and how much he loves you. But, if you don't return his feelings… He'd try to bottle it up and say it's fine, but it becomes clear how much he's falling apart on the inside. It's not long before he snaps, refusing to let you and Miko leave the base. And if his friends try to stop him, he's prepared to run off and take the two of you with him. Consequences be damned, he knows you and he are meant to be, and he won't let anyone take his family from him, even if it's against your will.

[lunarbreaksblog]

Hi! if the request/ask is open, if so, could you do of tfp, with human (gn! or f!) Reader? Romantic/Platonic

This Human's a cinnamon roll, somewhat naive/innocent (and has similar personality/backstory of Perrito from the Puss in Boots movie or Fluttershy from MLP). They're very motherly and being nurse/therapy-like friend and also a Pacifist yet can be passive-aggressive…

I just decided to do an Autobot version :)

Autobots with a Cinnamon roll!Gender neutral!Reader

You are an absolute cinnamon roll that the Autobots collectively decided to adopt. They might not know much about humans but can see the telltale signs, even if they are a different species from you— abuse is always the same.

The fact that you remain so naive and happy. That's what makes you special to them and the fact that you always try to help others.

Optimus prime:

Absolutely applauds you for everything you manage to do, loves your pacifism stance. Most importantly you know when pacifism doesn't work.

Loves helping you with things when has the time since you would do the same for him.

Basically you guys get on like a old 'but still very much in love' married couple

Ratchet:

He really does like you however your optimistic view annoy him at times but he appreciate your views, it gives me some glimmer of hope in this war.

Asks you questions about mental health since human mental health is basically cybertronian mental health— which he finds interesting on its own but learning more about humans seem to add more layers to your personality.

Is always sweet to you and raf❤

Bulkhead:

From his experience in the wreckers— he can see your masking since half the boys in the wreckers didn't have 'the greatest of mental healths'

Absolutely adores you tho, he's patient he'll wait for you to open up to him.

Likes to remind you that he is there for you.

Loves the fact that you try to nurse him sometimes.

Bumblebee;

Just like Bulkhead he adores you so much— with your motherly attitude, he loves chatting with you— telling you some of his problems or what things he found difficult that day.

You just listen and him your two cents every now and then, he loves it!

However he does notice how wrong somethings are whenever you talk about your childhood. He knows enough about what a childhood should be and what it shouldn't be

Arcee:

Is a little confused by you.

Shes annoyed on one hand with your naive nature but on the other hand— she gets it

She's also been done dirty by the universe and she can see it in you as well. The fact that you continue with your pacifism even when injured so badly— shes uncomfortable with it.

You are so much stronger than her.

The fact you let her talk to you about her issues and the fact that you listen and try to help!

She's going to protect you to the ends of the earth.

Feel free to request!

[silverior968]

Tfp gijinkas (3/4) The Wreckers :] I ljike them

Post 1 Post 2

[Image ID: A character sheet with two characters on it. On the left is a human version of Bulkhead from Transformers Prime, who is drawn as a fat black man in his early 40s. His hair is dark brown with a single gray streak in it, and tied in a low ponytail. He also has a beard and thick eyebrows. His eyes are dark brown and he is grinning. There are multiple small scars on his face. His outfit consists of a green camo jacket with reinforced black patches on the elbows and shoulders, a black t-shirt with the autobots logo on it, black and gray work gloves, green cargo pants and brown hiking boots. The design notes placed around him read as follows: "For him and Wheeljack I tried to aim for the early 40s ballpark", "he gets a few gray hairs as a treat", "I incorporated the logo into his design as a print on his t-shirt. It ended up looking like a band shirt, which would be a fun AU idea, if slightly worrying (no band should be injury-prone enough to need a surgically trained doctor on constant standby)" "proper sturdy work boots- also suitable for hiking". To his right is a human version of Wheeljack from the same franchise, drawn as a lean white man in his early 40s. His hair is ash-colored and very shaggy. On his head he has a dark brown cowboy hat. His eyes are grey and he has a slightly crooked nose, like it had broken before and never set the same way as it was before. He also has many small scars on his face and is grinning. In addition to his hat, his outfit consists of a white, green and red plaid shirt that's half tucked, a light gray aviator jacket, a dark brown belt with a silver buckle, dark red trousers and dark brown boots. He is holding his hat with one hand. The character design notes placed around him read as follows: "I want to put him in a salad spinner", "this jacket used to be white but it hasn't been washed like ever", "I accidentally made him look too cool so I had to give him the most dripless outfit ever", "I just had to give him a cowboy hat - he probably never takes it off because he's developed hat hair like this". The last note has a small doodle of him without his hat on, showing that the hair at the top of his head is perfectly smooth thanks to the hat. / End ID]

[just-someone-online]

Do you ever think about how in-universe, Optimus knew a process that allowed a bot to scan a third - and even fourth, which makes you wonder if there's even an upper limit - mode and just never thought to teach it to the rest of Team Prime?

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(Transformers Prime: TFP) You Give them Valentines

I imagine Reader getting those giant Valentine's day cards, or perhaps making an oversized one by hand!

Optimus:

He takes the card between his digits, optics flickering to you and back to the card to properly read it.

"Happy Valentine's day!" You tell him, and he tilts his head.

"An Earth custom," he guesses, and you nod. "I'm afraid I was not aware. Apologies, I could not reciprocate."

His tone is so solemn and apologetic, and it makes you smile.

"That's okay! It's not a requirement. I just wanted you to have your first Valentine card."

The expression on his faceplate softens, and he voices an affectionate, "thank you. The gesture is much appreciated."

Bumblebee:

This guy is already aware of Valentine's day (he's done some reading), but he wasn't expecting to receive a Valentine! He's absolutely delighted when you hand him a card, with a cheerful, "Happy Valentine's day!"

Bumblebee accepts the card so pleasantly surprised that he's buzzing and beeping his enthusiasm.

He disappears for a little bit and return with his own version of a Valentine, etched onto a sheet of scrap metal that Ratchet had lying around. It's definitely the biggest and most interesting Valentine you'd ever received!

"Aw, thanks Bee!" You chuckle. "I'm keeping it forever."

Ratchet:

It's hard to catch him in a moment when he's not totally consumed with a project. When you do finally find the right time, you approach him with the giant card and clear your throat.

He glances down, seeing you standing there, and huffs. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this encounter?" He asks, his tone a little grumpy as he's busy and also uncertain because of the way you're hesitating.

"Happy Valentine's day," you say, holding out the card.

Ratchet looks at the card and at you. Looks at the card, and then back to you again. He reaches down to accept it, but his faceplate shows uncertainty.

"It's a custom," you explain. "People give cards or candy to those they know, like family and friends. I wasn't sure if you'd gotten a Valentine since coming here, so... I figured I'd give you one."

Ratchet hears your explanation, and though he is trying to maintain his gruff demeanor, it's plain to see his optics soften a bit.

He clears his throat. "I, well... thank you." Then, he adds, "happy Valentine's day."

Bulkhead:

You approach him with the card in hand. He's watching a racing match between Jack and Miko on the gaming console, so you just lightly rap your fist against his metal foot in a rhythmic knock to get his attention.

He leans back and looks down, smiling when he sees you.

"Happy Valentine's day!" You hold out the card, and he reaches down to take it.

His faceplate softens as he realizes what it is. He'd heard bits and pieces about the holiday, but receiving a Valentine is a pleasant surprise. The card was oversized, but to him it was still rather tiny. The sight of him holding it made you smile all over again like you had when you first decided to get it for him.

"Thank you," he replies. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did," you chuckled. "I figured it was time you had a proper Valentine."

Arcee:

"Happy Valentine's day!" You say, holding up the giant card. Arcee tilts her head and stares at it for a moment before accepting it.

"What's this?"

"It's a Valentine. It's just something we do."

"Well, okay." She gives a small smile. "Thanks."

You know she's just trying to appear all tough and act like the custom didn't have much impact, but you later on see the card propped up among her belongings at the Base.

[weenwrites]

Decepticons/autobots of your choice reacting to gn reader that is 7'0 and is in the military and always cover their face up (like ghost from call of duty modern warfare) because of one mission that went wrong and they have scars on their face and body from the failed mission and they think the bots/cons of your choice will call them ugly but soon they got comfortable with them and showed them their face?

I just need some angst and fluff and the end and oh! Make gn reader cry when the bots/cons call them beautiful.

Dont forget to drink some water and eat something!

Have a good year :D

✎A/N: I am so sorry this took an eternity to get out.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Megatron

When he initially met you, your height certainly helped to make you stand out from all the other humans he's seen (which isn't many), however it wasn't enough. It's like seeing a large, blue marble in a pile of smaller blue marbles. Strange, but not surprising or interesting for long, and eventually it becomes just something that happens to be that way. Once the initial intrigue wore off, he thought that would be that, yet he was wrong.

Your abilities and skills proved to be rather impressive, and he surmised that were you not human, but rather a cybertronian among his ranks your skill would surpass even the skill of some of the more elite vehicons among their ranks. Despite your circumstances, you managed to overcome the unthinkable, and as such you rightfully earned his respect.

Megatron doesn't see scars as anything ugly or shameful, he sees them as medals of valor—as signs that you survived something that tried to take your life, and he believes that's something to be proud of. His love for you goes deeper than superficial appearances, after all you have earned his respect and admiration with more than just your looks. So of course he wouldn't think any less of you, scars or no scars.

Arcee

She initially never thought much of how you always hid your face. If anything, she just assumed it was part of your uniform and since you were busy with work a majority of the time she figured that's the reason you kept it on so often. Granted, she's heard the kids talk about it and theorize why you wear it so much that it's gotten her the slightest bit interested (and amused at their theories).

Scars can be ugly things, she understands that well. And not just ugly in the sense that they can be disturbing to look at but rather in reference to the deeper, more complicated feelings surrounding them as well as how they got there in the first place. It'll forever mar your body, and depending on what caused it, that scar could haunt you both physically and mentally. She can understand your feelings surrounding your own scars, believe her, she has many of her own that she has complicated feelings around.

But though you're covered head to toe in scars, she'd truthfully tell you that they do not change the way she feels about you in the slightest. She doesn't find them repulsive or disgusting since she can sympathize with the pain surrounding your scars.

Bulkhead

Given the fact the two of you happen to share similar experiences, it wasn't difficult for a sense of camaraderie and friendship to grow rather fast (though it could've happened the same way regardless of whether he knew about your background or not). Whether you were fond of sharing accounts of your previous battles or not, Bulkhead was certainly one to tell a tale of his own experiences.

The way he recounted the tale with descriptive, and riveting words made it easy to forget the fact he was telling a tale about a bloody war he experienced first-hand. But as time grew on, these tales slowly transitioned from stories about the war to stories about his life before it happened. His experiences in construction, silly happenstances that he looks back upon fondly, and old friends that are likely long gone.

It's ironic, you'd think he'd be happier to speak about times before the war and yet it's only harder for him. It's clear in the way he seems to begin to trail off, and loose his train of thought as he reminisces over what he had, and how things used to be.

His view of his scars starkly contrasts your own. He views scars as something to boast—something to be proud of—something that shows that he leapt into something ugly and beat, shot, punched, and smashed his way out of it to walk away to tell the tale. The way he sees it, those scars are a sign that you survived to be here with him today, and he wouldn't have you any differently.

Perhaps as the two of you bond, his own way of thinking about his scars begins to rub off on you too, and you start to see these scars in a different light. With each compliment he gives you in passing from day to day, the sadness or shame once associated with them grows smaller in comparison to the swelling newfound sense of pride.