#his EM field is usually filled with anxiety so its hard to tell what he's feeling

[dumb-but-also-red]

Headcanon time baby: The first time Optimus hugs the team Prime members because in my opinion he's a cuddlebug and loves physical affection.

Ratchet: he was startled for sure, but there is only one thing that annoys him about Optimus' hugs, and that is their height difference. Optimus can easily bend down a bit to hug him, but Ratchet has to reach up and stand on the tips of his pedes to hug Optimus properly. So usually he just kinda holds Optimus' waist.

Arcee: her small size made her an easy target for hugs, but she wasn't exactly complaining. She did enjoy the feeling of being held so gently, and awkwardly returned the gesture. Optimus happily lets her relax against his much larger frame every now and then.

Bulkhead: it happened so quickly, the wrecker didn't have enough time to process what was going on. They were just standing by the ground bridge, waiting for the others to return from a mission, and Optimus just touched his shoulder. Very gently. Bulkhead could see how stressed Optimus was, and he kinda understood the anxious feeling, wrapped his arms around Optimus, letting his positive emotions into his EM field. Optimus instantly melted and hugged the wrecker.

Bumblebee: the scout was surprised, and panicked a little because he thought Optimus had collapsed against him, he told Optimus to rest when he felt tired countless times, but relaxed once he realized what the Prime was doing he buzzed and beeped while fitting his frame into Optimus' arms. Bumblebee enjoys physical affection as much as Optimus if not more.

Wheeljack: he thought Optimus was trying to shield him from something, and was surprised. He asked what the Prime was doing since he wasn't so used to this kind of affection, and decided he liked it after he got an answer.

Ultra Magnus: this man was shook to the point his processor rebooted twice. He wasn't expecting his leader to have such weird habits. Maybe staying on earth with humans made him like this? He didn't know, but the way Optimus held him felt quite comfortable. He isn't sure what to think of it.

Smokescreen: babyboy had an instant response. He wrapped his entire frame around Optimus and giggled like a sparkling. Unlike the others, Smokescreen is very easygoing and experimental when it comes to trying new things, especially if the humans are doing it. Even though he wasn't sure if he should do that with a superior officer, he pushed those thoughts away quickly. Optimus was startled when Smokescreen almost climbed on him, and having the weight of another frame made the larger mech stumble a bit, but he loved how the kid was so excited for just a hug.

(Before you say this is too ooc, I know, and I honestly don't care. This kid needs more love. And I love him so much to the point I'm willing to make an interdimensional portal to go to the TFP universe.)

Megatron: it happened back on Cybertron, before the war, and Optimus Prime was still Orion Pax at that time. The gladiator was waiting for the librarian near the arena, and was surprised when a pair of red arms appeared on his waist, holding him. When he looked back, a pair of bright blue optics looked up to him innocently. He still remembers that day and thinks about how cute the Prime is when he isnt threatening Megatron's life.

Starscream: He was truly afraid for his life when Optimus walked up to him with a straight face and casually wrapped his large arms around Starscream's much thinner frame, the only person who ever touched him so easily like this was Megatron, and every time the warlord laid his claws on the seeker, he ended up on the medical berth. The seeker knew the autobots were weird, but after defecting from decepticons, he kind of liked how touchy-feely they were with each other. But he especially liked Optimus' cuddles. He loved the way the Prime caressed his wings as if they were made of glass.

Knockout: the medic was busy buffing his armor, so he didn't really pay attention to his surroundings. When he felt someone creeping up to him he only saw red before his face got pressed against a very sad looking Optimus' chassis. He asked if the larger mech wanted to talk, and they chatted for hours while painting and buffing each other's scarred and scratched armor. (I'm like 200% sure Optimus has the juiciest gossip material that he doesn't share. Knockout has his ways to get the word out of him.)

Breakdown: he walked in on Knockout and Optimus casually cuddling after a battle. Being the soft idiot he is, he just joined in. Optimus accepted the mech's invitation for a hug very happily. Breakdown is a very physical bot in general, so cuddles are definitely a great way to cheer him up.

--

Yes, Breakdown lives. Yes, him, Knockout, and Starscream are autobots in my AU. Also Magnus is confused because he isn't used to physical affection since almost all he's known is war. Or maybe he just doesn't understand the concept.

I just want Smokescreen to have a good life okay don't yell at me. He's baby.

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Fic: Wayward Souls

(Over the Garden Wall in FusionFall, requested by @tonixman, might be due for a part ii because I kinda like this idea.)

As another soldier spawned from the nearby Resurrect ‘Em in a flash of gold fire, Wirt asked himself yet again why he was even there.  He couldn’t fight on the battlefield: All he could do was help the ones who did during recovery.  And, for the most part, that was a joke since the Resurrect ‘Ems did most of the work.

The newly revived fusion fighter was unconscious--maybe it was their first time or they suffered a particularly bad death.  One of the other field aids dragged them onto a nearby mat to rest, double-checking them for injuries in case the process wasn’t complete. That too was just a formality at this point. So long as the Resurrect ‘Em worked, the body should be completely healed.  The real issue was that it took people a little longer to catch up to their own deaths mentally.  

Wirt watched on the sidelines as their helmet and armor was removed, and all of a sudden pictured Sara lying in their place.  Right: Other than the seriousness of the invasion, that was good reason for him to be there.  His crush had joined the war effort as soon as she could sign-up.  If he couldn’t protect the people he cared about on the warfront, the least he could do was offer some support.

Someone called for him, pulling him out of his thoughts, “We’re out of tea.  Brew another batch.”

“Right!”  He jogged over to the table of outdoor appliances to get to work.  At first, it annoyed him a little that they set up this camp just outside of a suburb when they could be working from any of the homes open to fusion fighters--they were even in-view. He got used to it though, considering himself to be in a much better position than the ones who barely gave themselves the time to dust off before charging into battle once again.  The aids needed to be just as swift and prepared.

While there was often at least one medic among them, their main job was to brace soldiers after resurrecting.  Denied the rest typically given after dying, their souls needed to recover most.  Assuring them that they were alive and well, offering small comforts until they could spring back to their feet, were everyday tasks.  

Granted, to do that, they used some not-so everyday means.  As Wirt stared at practically glittering contents stewing in the tea kettle, he inwardly winced.  He’d stopped looking at the ingredients for things a long time ago, finding one too many of Underworldly origins that disgusted him. It was better not to know. 

He’d just about finished up when he spotted a familiar, tiny figure running down the hill from the streets above, an unruly patch of brown hair bobbing above a river of tall grass. 

“Hey, Wirt!  Wirt!” Greg beamed as he reached the table, holding up a plastic bag, “Woo-woot!! The choco-train has reached the station!”

Wirt spotted a handful of empty wrappers mixed in with the candy where clearly his little brother had helped himself, but didn’t mention it.  In the past, he might’ve scolded him, but he’d grown to be more patient.  He played along with a soft smile, motioning to the soldiers resting nearby, “Good work, Conductor Greg.  Think you can finish delivering the goods?”

“Aye, aye!”  Just like that, he was off, darting from person-to-person to give each of them a piece. Their parents wouldn’t let Greg officially sign-up for the war, but he came to help Wirt nonetheless.  He’d become a regular face for Wirt’s co-workers, and since the areas surrounding Resurrect ‘Ems were usually safe, they didn’t mind the visits.

Part of recovery was inspiring soldiers to use their five senses--almost like how one might for anxiety.  It helped ground them within their own bodies.  If the soldiers were unconscious, Greg left their treats lying next to them.  He made sure everyone--including the aids and any nanos that hung around--had some candy before walking back to dump the rest of the bag onto the table. 

By then, Wirt had walked away with the kettle in-hand, passing it off to his senior.  Left to himself once more, another, typical thought entered his mind as he looked around for something else to do: He’d gotten far more used to this than any sane person should be.  

Not to say the their world wasn’t weird enough on its own, everyone had some kind of story to tell.  Grappling with death just happened to be his.  For a while, he dismissed everything that happened to him and his brother one Halloween night as nothing more than a dream.  The more time went on though, the more similar dreams he had and the more supernatural things he saw in his waking hours... He started to wonder if their journey through the Unknown hadn’t been some kind of purgatory.  The two of them had nearly drowned, after all, but the idea that they had been that close to dying was hard for him to accept.

Being here, among so many that did die and were only given their second chances because of the war, he couldn’t just dismiss the idea either.  However, the Resurrect ‘Ems were almost instantaneous: When a soldier was killed in-battle, their consciousness only lasted so long outside of their bodies before they woke up in a place just like this one.  Since their souls were bound to the supernatural devices, they had no memory of being anywhere else.  It was direct transfer.  If it wasn’t, well... Without a nano with a revive ability, it typically meant they’d become one of the army’s rare, true casualties. 

In short, whenever he’d asked, no one had ever even heard of the Unknown.  Wirt considered finding an Underworlder to talk to about it, but even if he found answers, he was almost scared of what they’d be.  He wanted to live a long, normal life, without any out-of-body experiences or monsters to trying to take over the planet!  If he pried, he’d probably be giving that up.

Wirt squat down by a young man who wasn’t much older than himself, checking him over.  He looked fine, his breathing steady and no visible signs that he was having a nightmare. It was uncommon, but not out of the ordinary, for some to sleep longer than others upon revival.  The memory of dying alone was enough to cause people to pass out.

There was talk, among the aids, that more people were staying unconscious for longer periods.  Even the haphazard types who became disturbingly familiar to the Resurrect ‘Ems needed more time to rest now.  Since the war dragged on, it was theorized that it could be a kind of widespread weariness: Morale was low and people were getting tired, their bodies responding in-kind.

He glanced over his shoulder to where the newcomer still lay.  They hadn’t woken up yet either, but at least they were stirring.  Hopefully, they’d be up soon.

He was about to get up when a quiet tune froze him to his very core.  Someone was humming softly: Another fusion fighter--a girl--was sitting up on her mat with her back to Wirt, looking at holograms.  He watched her in silence until her hums turned to whispered words:

“Come wayward souls that wander through the darkness, There is a light for the lost and the meek, Sorrow and fear are easily forgotten When you submit to the soil of the earth...”

Memories of a deeper, distant, and far-less pleasant voice filled his mind.  He raced over to her, taking her by the shoulder so abruptly that he startled her.  However, the way she jumped was nothing compared to the horror that rose inside him.  

Wirt fought to reign his nerves back as he asked, “H-how do you know that song...?”      

She blinked at him, confused by his outburst before turning inward.  She couldn’t seem to answer that for herself, no matter how much she tried to think.  Her eyes drifted to the ground innocently, “I don’t know... I must’ve heard it somewhere.”

He really hoped she hadn’t.  

Continue to Part 2