#transformers headcanons

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Cybertronians eating rocks for the minerals they contain. Cybertronians on earth incorporating more and more rocks into their diets to make up for the lack of energon.

Imagine cybertronians going to the beach with their human pals and partners, and when the human hands them a cool looking rock to admire it seeming proud of themselves, the cybertronian pops it into their mouth and thanks the mortified human for their tasty offering.

“How did you know granite was my favorite?” They ask, as the human mourns their cool find.

Museum gems. Has anyone told them about museum gems? I mean look at this and tell me you never wanted to snack on them.

The human keeps bringing their cybertronian a bag full of the finest rocks they picked from the pile every time they visit the museum.

Special thanks to @minecraft-parrot-enthusiast for this comment chain. This could be an episode.

Cybertronian who is both surprised and concerned when they see their human eating salt for the first time.

“I thought you couldn’t eat rocks.”

“I can eat these rocks.”

Cue cybertronian monching on a boulder with gift shop gems on the side as the human next to them eats rock candy and sugar crystals.

Cybertronian deciding to try bricks and cement and drywall and regretting it. A human waking up in the middle of the night and turning on the lights to see that there is a hole in their wall now.

“Are you eating my drywall?”

“I’m HUNGRY!”

“Is it���good at least?”

*coughs up a piece of drywall* “No.”

Needless to say they started keeping energon in the house after that and neither of them spoke of the incident again.

[smallestapplin]

Hii! Could I request headcanons for Brainstorm, Rodimus and Rung with human artist reader who draws them all the time and sometimes draws them right on their desk. For example, one time they found a chibi sketch of you on their desk winking and saying something like "I love you" or "I believe in you"

I love these dorks so much. I hope you enjoy qwq i tried my best.

-

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Rodimus

- the first time Rodimus sees your little sticky note with a cute little doodle of his helm and your head, wishing him a good day at work he nearly exploded right then and there. Ultra Magnus swears he’s never seen Rodimus work faster, but it was all in the name of getting out of his boring office and rush back to his habsuite to find you.

- The second his last report is done he nearly breaks a hole through the door cause it wasn’t opening fast enough and he wanted OUT! His beloved is awaiting him and his kisses and he can’t keep you waiting! You’re getting yanked from your spot right into his servos and smothered, positively drowned in his kisses, paired with a loud ‘mwah!’ For each smooch.

- Please never stop, he saves every last picture and note you make for him and giggles over them like a school girl with a crush, kicking his pedes and everything. It’s either his biggest distraction or his biggest motivator, cause he will remember you’re still on the ship and he’s not next to you and get the saddest puppy expression until Ultra Magnus is sick of him sighing loudly and let’s him leave.

- If you want to give him something to do tell him you hid a doodle somewhere in his office, and watch him go on the hunt going through every paper, every data pad, every corner of his office is not left untouched. He cheers so loudly when he finds it, giggling so sweetly and adding it to his collection before rushing with a skip in his step to you.

- Nobody can give him shit for it, it’s impossible when he’s rubbing it in everyone else’s face, “Oh, I’m sorry are YOU getting cute little doodles from your partner? Didn’t think so!”

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Rung

- Rung is very private with the notes you leave him, he keeps them in his subspace and has a collection going, he keeps each and every one of them close to his spark so he can always look at them. His optics glow bright behind his glasses, digits tracing the written words of your love for him, the little doodle of you making him smile.

- Your little notes help him through the day, help him after a rough session helping a patient through something so sparkbreaking it weighs on him, but your little notes give him the push he needs soothing his own worries. Your praise and support means everything to him, seeing your little artistic doodles of him and you with little hearts makes his antenna wiggle, and a smile almost permanently stuck to his face.

- You’ll know when he’s found them as when he comes back to your shared habsuite, he’s got a soft blue blush across his cheeks and he so softly asks to be able to pick you up, and when you agree stepping into his servos he kisses the top of your head, “Thank you, my star.” He whispers, kissing you once more.

- He doesn’t show them off he perfers to keep them to himself and on bad days, if you aren’t with him he looks through them to remind himself someone loves him, someone is waiting for him, someone is cheering him on even if you couldn’t be at his side in that exact moment he knows you care so much for him, and having these reminders fills his spark with so much love and joy.

- Rung tries to attempt the same, actually! Though he’s not much of an artist like you are, that doesn’t stop him trying and making a little doodle of his helm and a cartoony thumbs up, wishing you a good day and that he loves you. He often makes these notes when you’re still passed out on his berth, just before he starts his day and goes in for work. Rung wants to properly show you how much he appreciates your notes and drawings. He will get bashful and try to hide his face if you wake up and catch him mid act.

-

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Brainstorm

- DIVA! oh you have opened a can of worms I hope you have a wrist brace and do wrist stretches regularly, cause if he doesn’t get one little doodle of you wishing him a good day or that you love you and think he’s so cool, he will explode, he will approach you like “So you hate me? You hate me and want me dead, is that is? You do not love me? Where is my love?” Brainstorm needs your love and praise or he dies, that’s all.

- Brainstorm loves and adores every note and drawing paired with it, he will hold it to his chassis and squee softly before rushing to show off how sweet and kind his partner is! He is hellbent of showing you and your art off, his desk is covered in your little notes, he only moves them when they are placed in more dangerous spots and he doesn’t want them to burn or get something on them.

- Brainstorm is a mech who is not at all ashamed or modest in his love for you, you show your love for him? Wonderful, he will proceed to scream his from the roof tops, if no one can hear you scream in space they truly have not met a Brainstorm who is fueled by spite and his overwhelming love for you.

- After he’s gotten one of your little doodles he’s all giddy, and most times that giddiness lasts until he sees you an can finally get his cuteness aggression out on you, so much so it’s not uncommon for someone (likely Perceptor) to ask you two to get a habsuite and take it behind closed doors, cause Brainstorm needs his kisses but also he needs to give you kisses but ALSO he needs to hear you say you love him and believe in him.

- Brainstorm is unsurprisingly a needy mech, he will trap you against him and look at you with such a love sick expression asking you to say it again, just ooooone more time, for him? Please? Mayhaps a liiiittle louder? You will have to bap his nose to get him to stop, cause he can’t get enough of hearing you love him.

[hoiststowline]

_skywarp x reader

[part one here!]

Skywarp’s found himself waist-deep in a problem, and half of him doesn’t care. probably more than half anyways, but that nagging notion always lingers in the back of his processor, coming up for air in the most annoying of moments. 

you’re so intoxicating, that each time he reminds himself to back off, or he’ll get caught, he’s swept up in something he falsely describes as selfish. untrue, because you’ve told him so, that it isn’t self-centered to be happy. somewhere along the line, Skywarp has come to concede, to give in every now and then, if only to ensure you were happy as well. 

to him, that’s all that really mattered, though he’d never speak such balmy and personal sentiments aloud.

he has no trouble seeing you, even in the pitch darkness that the supply closet provides. two clunky servos wrap around your waist, engulfing the lower half of your body and then some. his thumbs swipe tender touches from your shoulders down the length of your arm, only to return to the top and repeat the action once more. 

you let out soft squeals at his colder touch, the way he tries to shove his face between your neck and shoulder, kissing the exposed skin there with a familiar gentleness. you’ve tried to return the favor, hands moving to cup his jaw the best you can, but Skywarp huffs each time. 

“Knock it off,” he mumbles into your warm skin, tickling you with his mesh lips.

the only time you’re granted some light is when he opens his optics, the soft crimson glow they emit bathing you from head to toe. there is hardly any light that trickles in from under the door, not even enough to skate across the floor to where Skywarp stands, pining you to the wall. 

at your wriggling, all in good fun, one servo slides downward, now caging your legs between the wall and his palm. his helm moves to the right, now away from your shoulder stops right in front of you, maintaining confused eye contact with a softened stare. 

“Why are you so jumpy? Stop, or I’ll-” 

it isn’t very often that Skywarp doesn’t finish his sentence, seemingly cutting himself short. there’s something that arises in his expression, and you tilt your head to the side, attempting to read what he’s thinking, as he isn’t sharing the information with you.

but you know better than to ask, because just a few seconds later, his wings droop some. and then, an annoyed and agitated look replaces such a lovely one, one you were soaking in every moment of. he’s listening for something, you realize, only when his servos go slack some, allowing you to slide down the wall a couple inches. 

“Skywarp?” you ask in a small voice, ensuring it was the smallest whisper you could manage. 

briefly, his gaze flits to the door, and then back to you. 

“M’sorry,” is all he says, and before you can ask what for, everything moves a little too fast for your liking. 

the supply closet door moves over with a grand hiss, the hallway light now illuminating the room. simultaneously, Skywarp placidly hikes you off the wall and into two palms, effortlessly cradling you behind his back in one fluid motion. 

you’re facing the interior length of the closet, while he faces the newcomer at the entrance. 

“Skywarp?” someone asks, perplexity heavily evident in their words. “What are you doing?” 

the voice is somewhat familiar, someone you’ve only known through the many communications calls Skywarp has received while in your company. just by his body language and what is visible to you, Skywarp is uneasy and tense, fingers tenderly but firmly sliding over your form, as if to satiate some woe that has him in a chokehold. 

“Looking for something,” he responds gruffly, a twinge of obvious annoyance in his tone. 

the other mech considers him carefully, as if scrutinizing and looking for a lie. “With the lights off?” 

“Mind your business.” comes out a little more sternly, as if eager to see this conversation concluded swiftly and painlessly.

there’s a pause, a silence that overcomes the room as you place a palm to your mouth, afraid to make a single noise. you weren’t so confident in your ability to keep entirely quiet, even more so when a digit comes to your chest, studying the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart. 

“And what is behind your back, then?”

you freeze, but Skywarp does not, the only thing that gives the impression of falsehood is that his wings flare. but the movement is so slight, more-so a tremble, you’re fairly confident only you’ve noticed that. 

he swears internally to himself, knowing that he’s already walked the line of getting caught, and now he can’t even lie his way out of this one anymore. 

this wasn’t even his first choice of hiding spot. Thundercracker had been camping in their damn berthroom for cycles, and Shockwave was rummaging through things in the cargo bay. 

the both of you needed a new spot, if only to retain his sanity. 

“I’ve been working on something.” 

he finds, digs the lie free from his processor in attempt to get Starscream to leave him alone.

the mech eyes him warily, not quite believing him, but evidently, he has more pressing matters to attend to. 

“Whatever. Hand me that.”

something is exchanged, one of Skywarp’s servos slipping from underneath you to read over to the right. after another excruciating moment of silence, the door panel finally closes over, enveloping the room in darkness once more. 

you’re afraid to speak, and wait patiently for Skywarp to move. except he doesn’t, and you understand he’s listening, waiting for Starscream to depart fully down the hallway. 

he must’ve heard him round the bend, and finally, his entire frame sags in relief. brought back to reality by the way your tiny fingers run over his palm, Skywarp maneuvers his servo back to his front. 

slowly, he raises your form to his helm, staring down at you with utmost love, but a touch of aggravation.

“No more supply closet.” he rumbles. 

you avidly nod in agreement. “No more supply closet.”

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Optimus Prime as a Father Figure Hcs

(A/N- You can imagine any version of Optimus Prime like the g1 series, movies, etc. I hope y’all enjoy this wholesome post)

(Warning: Random platonic and wholesome hcs)

- He’s good at giving advice, though it honestly depends on what you need advice about. He’s always there to listen if you ever need to talk.

- He always lets you know that you can count on him for anything.

- The other Autobots are like brothers to you, especially Bumblebee. Sometimes you all will be hanging out, having fun, and Prime will watch over y’all with a smile on his face.

- Speaking of the other Autobots, they are protective of you. Not overly protective but like in a big brother way, y’know?

- Optimus will take extra precautions to ensure your safety. Since you’re close to the Autobots, the Decepticon’s might plan to capture you as bait or some other heinous plan. He’ll be damned if he lets Megatron hurt you.

- Sometimes when the both of you have free time to spare, y’all and some of the others will watch the sunset together or stargaze. Sharing stories and hanging out.

- Speaking of sharing stories, Optimus has some interesting stories. They’re mainly about Cybertron and fighting but still entertaining. He also tells you what it’s like back on his planet.

- A good listener. He’ll listen to you ramble and talk about your interests/hobbies. Even though he may not completely understand it.

- Doesn’t know slang at all so when he hears you say any type of slang he’ll be confused. He’ll ask you what it means and will sound like a grandpa too.

- If you’re ever going through some mental health issues, he’ll ask about your symptoms and what you’re diagnosed with. So that he can do some research on how to help and support you.

..

[isi567]

So I know for a fact that ancient Spartans learned dancing so they can fight better so imagine if Decepticons did that too.

In dancing you go with the rhythm of the Music and in the sky you use air around you to be faster and agile, dance also makes you adapt to different things so it was very useful. I can see Starscream dancing with his soldiers during practice and keeping an eye on their movements and if they are missing a beat or overall make mistakes. Some decepticons didn't want to participate but Soundwave and Starscream are dying to host them, put Telephone by Lady Gaga and watch officer dance like he was the star of the night but don't challenge Starscream in Irish steps or you will break your ankles. Megatron was reluctant to it but after Soundwave and Starscream begged him he joined and for an ex gladiator he was amazing at waltzer. Starscream is his dance partner and he was a bit scared when he stepped on his foot a couple of times but he persisted. Dreadwing joined too and he also learned Irish steps so he and Starscream always compete who will be better. The whole ship loves it and happily participates in them, even though they are not mandatory. This also helps them to disassociate from the war problems and to explore the planet that they are on. Although he won't admit it Megatron especially likes them because he can be gentle and soft without being judged and he takes every opportunity to have them, Starscream also likes them because it reminds him of home, memories of him dancing alone in his apartment make him the happiest person ever.

Drop in the comments what do you think?

[3ic95id864pg]

Metal cardbot 💥💙🚓

[theoldspark]

I'm bored. Give me your Optimus/Orion headcanons and I'll rate them.

[arachnidsinavoid]

Hay I'm posting my wip for a fic I'm writing for ratchet that I got I inspiration from @muletia posts for ratchet

The fic is basically about him struggling with coping with his diabetes and having self worth outside his function

Also, I kinda headcanon he would hate any mobility aid outside of ones he made for himself, but he can't make it, so the reader will offer to help him. Make it, and they argue like an old marride couple while making his mobility aids also reader will be disabled as well sorry if this sucks

It's an angst/comfort but this wip is just angst

It doesn't matter how long the wars been over, as a medic your work isnt over until your body gives out.

Theres aways someone who needs your help, who needs their life saving. If you're there for them or not.

And that happened to Ratchet years ago. his hands finally gave out on him, and he was permanently out of commission as a medic. It didnt matter how much the mech on the table needed him, he couldn't do anything

His hands completely seize up and stop working. That was the only time in millennias Ratchet had felt truly helpless. He froze, sinking into the background of the surgery. whilst others rushed to get the patient stable.

Ratchet was never particularly scared of his own death. Even in a vicious war, he was always willing to sacrifice himself for his comrades. Even if it was to save only one mech.

But the thought of another dying from his inability to act, that was something that terrified him to his spark.

Ratchet was never a believer nor fan in religion. But in this moment he mentally cured and begged primus at the same time. Cursing him for choosing this moment for his body to break. Begging him to let him do anything. Begging for his function back, as he because background noice whilst other rush the save a life he couldn't.

The mech was able to be saved and stabilised but not by any hand of rachets

[michaela-o]

This dynamic🙏🏻 i need to read some prowl with his little human fic :’]

[prettykittymoon]

Cute Earthspark starscream fluff fic idea.

Starscream gets some sort of giant alien cat pet as a therapy animal. He doesn't care for the creature at first but he quickly warms up to it.

When Starscream is about to have anxiety attacks the creature instinctively goes and cuddles to to him. Like Perrito does in Puss in Boots the last wish.

[dailymothanon]

I wonder if how Soundwave’s original toy being named CassetteMan so it possibly being his original name is kinda embarrassing to him 😔 so incredibly on the nose it’s like Optimus being named TruckBoy… it’s the worst day of his life all because he decided to let these two morons know about it 🙄 and you know those two would never let it go smh

[yandere-wishes]

⚙︎ Just same quick Yandere Transformers One thoughts

Imagine Sentinal Prime taking you as his darling. It's so easy for him to make you disappear, to erase you from a semi-functional world. He snaps his fingers and you're kneeling before him, optics wide in fear, servos bound behind you. All Cybertron runs through his digits, and you little girl should be utterly honored to have caught his optic.

He colors you in the richest of paints, upgrades you with the newest enhancements in all of Cybertron.

Reconstructed as the perfect doll, sitting pretty in his lap as his golden wings gently caress your back. Maybe if you're particularly feisty, rebellious, and tenacious he'll even remove your T-cog. Making you watch as he crushes your metallic organ in his fist.

"Don't forget your place, my dear. Don't make me remind you again"

Sentinal always has you propped up pretty on his lap. Trailing his fingers over your arms and thighs. Half-heartedly tracing stars and swirls as he's forced to listen to Cybertron's newest developments and his latest orders. The senate's conversations are unfiltered, they peel away the senator's golden facades leaving only the monstrous truth. Sentinel especially is the wickedest of all. Diabolic traitor playing king-prophet. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into him, biting and ridding until only scrap remains...

But the truth is too brittle. You have no power, no strength compared to him. And you're too terrified of Sentinal's punishments to step out of line.

Sometimes when the conversations get too grotesque to drown out, your desperate optics weave to an open window, peering helplessly at a world that's forgotten you. It's usually Senital's cold lips that melt away the melancholy trance. Reawaking you into your nightmare...

── .✦⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚ ✦ . ──

Imagine D-16 finding you as he's defeating Sentinal. You look so bruised and battered, so broken. Maybe he knew you once, a transformer who was always sweet and kind to the miners. Maybe it's the look of utter despair and hopelessness in your optics that catches his attention. Almost like a mirror of his pain. His servos itch to wrap around your neck, to crush wires and circuits, to eliminate anything that Sentinal has ever held dear.

But he can't...

His broken spark screams in pity. You're just another helpless bot trapped in Sentinel's web of deceit. He saves you for himself, a shivered war prize he's convinced he can fix. He makes plans to seek out Solus Prime's T-cog to lay within your chest. He wonders if Megatronus would approve.

But it doesn't end that way now, does it?

Destiny is too cruel for such fragile hopes.

⛧°。 ⋆༺★༻⋆。 °⛧

Alternatively, Maybe Orian is the one to find you, sacred confused, and utterly alone. He's so eager to lend a helping hand. Wanting so badly to wrap you in his arms, to give you warmth and hope. He plucks you away from Sentinal's tarnished castle. Pulling you away into a life that tastest of saccharine daydreams and sugar-laced optimism.

And Orian -or rather Optimus- is perfect, sweet and loving, and hopeful...

But he's also tasted loss and duplicity. Bitter truths leading to his jaded obsession. He's so careful with you always having a servo on your hip, always listening to every conversation. He can't have this fragile world hurt you again. He needs to protect you from everything at every cost.

Sometimes when your body is curled next to him recharging peacefully. He'll reminisce about the other Primes, wonder if they've ever felt such a love that bites so sharply at the spark. He wonders if he can really make Cybertron the perfect world for you...

[smallestapplin]

What if the Cybertronians saw the reader drinking blue gatorade and thought it was Energon.

I went with Prowl headcanons, he doesnt get enough love.

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-

- Energon is known, at least to the autobots on Earth, to be toxic to human, Ratchet stressed after an accident that no human companion of theirs should be exposed to it for too long and to never ingest it for it could at minium do serious harm, but more likely kill their little human.

- Prowl does not mind you always bothering him as he works, he’s grown use to you and your antics making it easier to block you out or at least still get things done. So when you walk into his office, greeting him as always, he doesn’t look away from his data pad as he greets you in return.

- You climb up his desk (with the stairs he absolutely did not build in so you could climb up it safer) and sit near his servos.

- You chat with him with ease, asking about his day which he tells you little about, but he’s still nice to be with.

- Bright blue catches his attention off the corner of his optics, he almost assumed you brought him the worlds smallest Energon cube, until he turns his head and sees you drinking it. His optics widen a fraction and before you know it you’re being yanked into the air, you bottle falling from your hands spilling the liquid all over his desk, but he doesn’t care.

- You ask him what’s wrong but he doesn’t even answer you as he’s speeding out of his office, swiftly transforming making your head spin as you find yourself in the passenger seat. His sirens blaring as he drives, speeding down the hall making any autobot jump to the side to get out of his way.

- “Prowl, what’s going on!?”

- “You are a fragging idiot! We can make it to Ratchet, I won’t let you offline.”

- You’re so confused. Prowl slams on his brakes as he bursts through the medbay doors, gaining the attention of a newly pissed off Racteht, before transforming once more, this time holding you out to the medbot.

- “They drank energon!”

- And like that Ratchet is taking you, setting you on the medical berth and hooking so many things up to you as he’s loudly scolding you for even touching energon. But you can’t remember drinking energon, you didn’t have any! The only time you’re even near it is when you’re around them as they drink it.

- Prowl and Ratchet talk amongst themselves, though it’s clear they are both worried. Ratchet is not trained to handle humans, your bodies are so much more fragile and complex than he studied for. It takes Prowl telling Ratchet the story for it to finally click in your head.

“That wasn’t energon, that was a Gatorade!”

The two bots look at you, optics narrowed, squinting at you in suspicion.

“Aren’t gators those lizard things you spoke of with the powerful bite force? Why would they need aid?” Prowl questions, crossing his arms over his chassis.

“And why would you be drinking it?” Ratchet follows up.

You have to pull up your phone to look it up in bigger words to get it through their processors that you really are fine, it was just a tasty drink! Though it doesn’t help the two bots groans, shaking their helms and muttering something humans being weird, and making odd scrap as always.

But as Prowl holds you in his servo as you two leave the medbay, he looks at you with a stern expression.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, understood?”

You have to fight back a smile, knowing how worried he must’ve been, “I promise Prowl, I’ll make sure to let you know what I got before hand.”

He’s a worry wot, give him a break.

[hoiststowline]

_hot spot x reader

for someone with such a concrete schedule, time often passes him by at an alarming rate. lost in paperwork and tasks, it’s often late in the evening he finally realizes the time, unaware that the majority of the day has escaped him once more. 

it’s not a concept that he likes nor appreciates, but he’s come to terms with the idea that on certain days, he isn’t going to see you at all. it’s begrudging acceptance on the subject, yet somehow the sporadic messages and calls are enough to carry him to some allotted time away from base. although, time in this sense is in agreement for the both of you: it’s never enough. 

suddenly, it’s a bit after ten p.m., and Hot Spot has realized he hasn’t heard from you all day. not cause for immediate alarm, but just for some self-assurance, he opts to send you a quick message to see if you were up for a phone call. he always loves to hear about your day and humorous stories, a calming presence that he finds immense elation beside. your schedule was often the opposite of his, sometimes complex and not permanent, so disappearances on your end were not uncommon. 

but the message goes unread. minutes pass, and such prolonged ticks of his clock consumes him with a familiar concern, one that he has for you every moment the both of you are apart. it never truly goes away, only is ever temporarily satiated by your comforting words. here, he succumbs to the disquiet, pede tapping against the metal of the floor in a steadily increasing impatient manner. 

even considering your irregular schedule, at this hour, you were more than likely to be home, if not, on your way there. something didn’t quite sit right with him, a foreign restlessness making decisions on his behalf, rather than a rational mind. 

you’re startled awake at the sound of someone knocking on your door, persistent in their action. groggily, you look around the room, hand grabbing at air twice before you manage to scoop your phone off the table at your front. 

a simple failure to turn the device on alerts you that it’s dead, no charge left to power up. still disorientated, you move stand on shaky legs to cross the room, heading for the front door. a sparing glance out the window alerts you that for some reason Hot Spot is here, sending a dazed mind into a state of frenzy, a little more purposefulness within your movements. 

something must be wrong, is the only thought that makes sense in the developing circumstance. your hand hastily finds the lock as the other grasps the doorknob, hardly opening the door in full before someone shoulders their way inside. you gasp, taking three steps rearward for his one, jolting as a set of arms latch around you and squeeze you tightly. 

a large hand cradles the back of your head, and briefly you're aware that the person has kicked your door back over, gently clicking it back into place. exhaustion still consumes you, mind muddled and movements lethargic, but your guess of what was wrong was just as good as anybody's given your state. 

“Spots?” you mumble into his chest, fingers finding his chest to try and delicately push yourself off of him, but he won’t allow it. “What’s wrong?”

gradually, his invariably benign but firm grip goes slack, yet keeps you at an arms length. “I should be the one asking you that,” 

“Me? Why?” blinking owlishly, you tilt your head to the side, looking up at him confusedly. 

“I have not heard from you today.” 

Hot Spot’s holoform is much more expressive than he actually is, but conveys his personality and stoic nature rather gracefully. you’re hyperaware of the way his fingers grab at fistfuls of your sweatshirt, only to relax and let his palms slide down the length of your arms. 

“I was afraid something had happened.” he mumbles, hands settling atop yours, only to engulf them shortly thereafter. “I was wrong, but I am glad that I am.” 

immediately, an apology rises in your throat, guilty for making him worry so much. “I’m so sorry- I guess I fell asleep on the couch, and my phone died-” 

at your stumbled and hurried words, Hot Spot only hums a laugh of relief, waving a hand dismissively. “My only wish was to ascertain you were alright.” 

your shoulders sag, culpability still seeping into your body language, but it’s promptly dispersed as you’re ushered back into a hug. he and you stand in your foyer, leaving ghosts of kisses over your temple every so often, apprising himself that you were here and more than fine. it was more than enough, but somehow, if you’d allow him to be selfish just this once, he’d like to stay like this a little longer. 

[a/n: idk why I’ve been putting author notes at the bottom but omg hi!! and yes, I need a hot spot hug. right now and all the time.. thank you for reading, ily!!]

[niiwa-angel]

"Optimus doesn't take time off because he's too self sacrificing"

Wrong!

Optimus can't take time off because he knows the second he isn't white knuckling the riens, Elita-One, Ironhide, Jazz, and Prowl are going scorched Earth on the Decepticons. It will end the war but it may also classify as a total annihilation.

Optimus, sleeping slightly deeper than he usually would: 😴

Prowl: Optimus is out of commission, I am now in charge. Elita, break out those plans we told him we didn't make, Ironhide, ready the acid bombs, Jazz, grab us a jet. We're ending this war tonight.

Elita "the ends can justify the means" One: You know, I don't think we've properly considered the elegance of germ warfare. We wouldn't even have to get our hands dirty.

Ironhide "I'm just showing him my cannons" the Weapons expert: That'll take too long. Nukes, that's the best way to go.

Jazz "I lead the most lethal fighters on this team" the Spy: We've got one shot, I can sneak in and stash some explosives in their barracks, they'll never catch me. Blow their whole base sky high.

Optimus, waking up in just the nick of time: I am begging you to stand down!

Ironhide: Told you we should have slipped a sedative in his high grade.

~~~~

Optimus, literally fighting to get out of the Medbay: You don't understand! They're plotting!

Ratchet: You have a broken leg and a head injury, sit your ass down!!

First Aid, who's been secretly trying to help the four of them end this thing: I'll grab a sedative. He may need a week of bedrest.

Meanwhile

Elita-one: Now, I did some research and did you know that half of our war crimes aren't considered war crimes on this planet?

Jazz: Fascinating. What a creative group.

Prowl: Indeed. And Optimus does want us abiding by the laws of this planet.

Ironhide, nodding along: He does.

Prowl: Whelp! Gotta follow orders obey the laws of this planet. It's not a war crime here, Jazz, get the rust bombs.

[3ic95id864pg]

Let's get retarded (Ha)! Let's get retarded in here!