#Primus' Gift of Love

[seekerwingzcg]

Got Chapter 7 posted. Now with part 2, I'll actually do an outline.

(something I haven't done with my fics until now lol)

[transingthoseformers]

So, TFP au Prowl, right? Oh he's probably nothing like canon aligned Prowl but i don't care. I'm using a combination of g1 fanon and tfa Prowl anf y'all are going to let me.

He's mostly a noncombatant, and is the Autobots' resident paperwork and future strategy guy. He likes nature and Earth, honest... he's just an "appreciate nature from a safe distance" guy. While I've mentioned before that I HC that none of the Cybertronians really relate to human terms of neurotypicality, but that every human takes one look at Prowl and goes "mmhm that robot is autistic". Out of all of Autobot command, he's the youngest and it shows. He's just... such a guy. Prowl is such a guy, and the human government is going to get surprisingly attached to him. And, yes, I'm not just referring to Fowler no i mean i can honestly see many of the others who are undoubtedly in the know about the Autobots, because it can't just be Fowler and General Bryce nahhh there's gotta be a whole specialized division there.

[somerandomcockroach]

MERCY ME

I SHOULD FINALLY GET SUSPICIOUS ABOUT EVERY WORD YOU PUT IN

I MEAN "PRIMUS SEES WHAT I SAY HE SEES" SOUNDED FOR ME LIKE A ONE BIG SPITE ABOUT HIM BEING AN ATHEIST AND HERE WE GO

I WILL BITE YOU

Monster hunter au part 10

Head in hands. Ratchet can't see, but carries the lantern anyway because it's not for him, it's for everyone else. He can't see, so when he shines it towards the mechs approaching him, this is for them to see better in the dark forest. He can't see, so he makes sure everyone who might need him can see him. It was never about him, it was about what he does for others.

Rung here actually knows he's God, but can't perform divine miracles. Although he can and does know things he's not supposed to know. Also, ironically, he knows everything Ratchet did after he blinded himself because Ratchet was carrying his spark around with him the whole time. So the phrase "Primus sees what I say he sees" was kind of prophetic haha

Previous

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

(TFP) Yandere!Autobots - Types of yandere

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, yandere harem, describing types of yandere, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, Reader is gender neutral and in the Autobot faction. Use of (Y/N) (minimun).

Optimus Prime is an overprotective yandere.

Clear from the start - even before the war, the Prime hated the idea of you being hurt or in any kind of pain, either if it was physical or emotional. He can't help but always think of your safety, even if it meant to keep you locked inside of the base.

His presence is overbearing, always there behind your back and acting as your shadow. You don't bring yourself to ask kindly to have some privacy or be allowed to do more than just rather small tasks at the base - he looks so happy being by your side and always looks like his spark is breaking in half if you express the minimun discomfort.

Ratchet is an obsessive yandere.

Servo on servo with Optimus, he is quite overprotective too. But what makes him different from Optimus is that Ratchet gets hysteric and euphoric in the blink of an optic if it is about you. You would get scared to see the many things he keeps and knows about you.

Knows everything about you, both in the medical field and personally for he is the bot you get to pass more time as the others are out on their missions. Has his optics on you nearly all the time, analizing and keeping every little detail, data and informatiom about you. When he is all alone or with any of his teammates, he gushes quietly about you, spilling every little detail he learned recently or holds dearly to his systems.

Bumblebee is a self-aware yandere.

From the bunch, Bee is the one to know what he and the others are doing is wrong. More than wrong. They were holding you hostage, lying to you, their love for you reaching sickening levels, and he is sick of himself... but can't bring himself to stop. His self-awareness then translates to a validation-seeking behaviour.

He needs your smile, your words of approval, your soft praise, your gentle touch - everything so he doesn't crumble down. He feels lost without you, that's why he is always following you and doing anything so you can look at him with those precious optics of yours that make Bee forget for a moment that what he is doing is wrong.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack are clingy yanderes.

Something that makes them different from one another is how their clinginess is masked - while Wheeljack flirts and tries to woo you, Bulkhead gives you small gifts and wishes to pass time with you. Wheeljack loudly demands your attention with flirting, compliments and keeping a servo on you, while Bulkhead does it quietly, his gifts always accompanied with a 'would you like to pass time together?' or 'wanna train together?'

You are their universe - they must be around you to feel alive and in calm. Spare them a glance, a word, anything and they'll melt and wish for more.

Arcee is a violent yandere.

Like Bee, Arcee is self-aware, but it is her love for you that moves her wrath, and viceversa - her anger moves her devotion for you. Arcee had lost many loved ones, like Tailgate and Cliffjumper, stucked in a cycle of grief, spiraling in the anger stage. But the anger is never directed at you (never, ever), but at the Decepticons and anyone who stands in her and her team's way to protect you.

You bring peace to her hurt soul, making her fall deeper in love for you - but once you turn your optics away, her anger is back, ready to destroy everything if it means to show you how much she loves you. And you've witnessed how her hysteria taking over, to then melt the moment she gets to see you, bringing her tranquility.

Smokescreen and Cliffjumper are worshipping yanderes.

Oh, Primus - if Cliffjumper was still alive, he and Smokescreen would be a helmache whenever both opened their mouths, as they would talk non-stop about how amazing, precious and unique you are. While Smokescreen is a 100% worshipper "(Y/N) is a flawless deity!", Cliffjumper is a worshipper that acts normal in front of you, but once you leave, he talks and talks about you, praising anything you do.

Both definitely lean on the stalkering side, too - and in their optics, you are free of any sin, of any flaw. You are perfect. And if you give them a small compliment? They feel this rush of euphoria.

Ultra Magnus is a passive lovestruck yandere.

In front of others, Ultra Magnus does his job as an autobot, following Optimus' orders and guiding his teammates. But when he is all alone with you, he changes - he seems to be in a passive, dream-like state, as all he does is sigh, kneel in front of you and whisper his prayers, holding your servo and begging softly for your benevolence and blessing.

Like others, he is also a worshipper, but a very soft, calm one - for his worshipping must be only for you to hear. He prays everyday to be worthy of you, to be your knight in shinning armour. Ultra Magnus will always view you as an angel, an ethereal being and sigh his spark out of love for you.

Hope y'all liked it! (*^▽^*) Vhaos out!

[tinydefector]

I love the perfume pheromone so much could you write about how Ultra Magnus/Mimimus and Rung react to it please 👀👀👀

Ultra Magnus

He gets hit with the sweet scent that smells like Galium Gummies and Energon wine it has him doing a double take in his office as he works alongside you. He's so confused as to where it is coming from until his sensor all points to you. He tries to be subtle about it, inching closer in hopes he could inhale the sweet scent. His intake lubricates, and his sensors start going haywire. "What is that?" He asked, trying not to lean in closer. When he realises its on your skin it makes him desperate want to taste it.

"Oh, it's perfume. Sorry, is it really strong? I hope it isn't, " you call out while rechecking some of the flight gear and taking stock of what would be needed at the next planet the ship stopped on. He ends up walking off to take care of his issue before he can succumb to the sweet scent that's overwhelming his sensors.

Minimus (in case people like them separated)

He's deep in recharge when you pounce on him. His optics flick on as you smile down and laugh slightly at his surprised expression. A content hum leaves him as he pulls you down into a kiss, and then his scenors finally register the scent that seems to dance on your skin. His lips trail across your throat and collar bone as he pulls you snugly into his lap. Slowly grinding against you as he continues his assault on your skin, leaving hickies in his wake. "You test my patience too much, beloved," he mumbles into your shoulders. Another giggle leaves you as he rolls you to lay on the berth.

Minimus is a very passionate lover when given the chance, littering kisses on your skin in the aftermath of your teasing. Holding you close as he traces his digits across your face, his optics watching in true awe as if you were a gift from primus himself.

Rung

Dear Lord, if this bot smells perfume, it's like a switch flips. He's on you the moment he sees you dragging you into a passion kiss as he desperately works your clothes off. He's a rather passionate lover, and despite his calm and soothing nature, he is a beast in berth. You are rather sore after the amount of rounds you both have. In the end, you're sleeping pressed against his chassis with Blankets pilled around you as he softly reads.

He ends up looking for a very specific perfume to gift you later on. One he believes will taste divine on your skin.

To Rung, you taste like red energon with copper swerlls and rubies.

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[mossyscavern]

I’d give my T-cog and my spark to you.

______________________

D-16 groans, optics fluttering online.

Staring up at the sky, servo rubbing his helm, trying to recalibrate with what happened. He sat up and saw that Orion is online too, trying to wake elita up. ‘He’s gonna get punched in the face again.’

D thought, shaking his helm, before immediately remembering something important.

He frantically got up and looks around the surface, yellow optics scan the jagged surroundings before spotting a familiar pair of peds, upside down and kicking. “Bee!” He shouts, climbing up the hill mount.

He grabs both ankle guards, pulled and revealed the happy yellow sparkling, upside down and giggly. “Hi Dee!” The youngling says, smiling.

D sighs in relief and flips him up right before putting him back down. “You ok? How’s your helm?” D fuses, checking bee’s helm and plating for dents.

“Uhm… it hurts but it doesn’t?” Bee asks, helm tilt slightly to the left. D huffs a chuckle, not immune to the adorable sparkling bee is.

For a nanoklilk, D-16 hears elita-1 screaming her helm off. Both bots turn to the pink fury and saw her pacing and screaming, then went and punch a mountain, Orion trying to talk to her before she snatches the device.

D-16 cringed at the whole one sided conversation between Orion and elita, where bee looked worried at the three before looking up at the sky, getting D’s attention and point to the gradient the surface offered.

It worked very well as D stares directly up at the sky, bee smiles holding D’s servo before he forced out a yelp as someone picks him up, making him let go of the servo. Confused he looks up and saw it was elita-1.

“Hi! I’m b-127, or bee! Or badassatron! Are you coming with us-?” he babbled on, elita continues to walk while Orion waits for D-16 before following elita.

Orion turned and snorts, seeing an impressive scowl as the yellow optic bot stares daggers at elita-1. “What?” D asked, turning to Orion. “Sorry, just that you’re staring daggers at our ex-commander- what’s she do anyway?”

D-16 huffs and crosses his arm guards, for a couple of kliks he sighed and finally-. “She took my baby.” He confessed, that got a laugh out of Orion and that made D punch him in the shoulder pad.

“Sorry, sorry.. I didn’t think you’d say it out loud.” He chuckles, patting D’s shoulder guard. “Does that mean he’s our baby then?” Orion asks, earning him a hiss from D-16. “You’re the cousin that makes regrettably life choices, pax.”

“… rude, but ouch, don’t like how quick you answered.” Orion says, but D-16 stopped listening. Yellow optics focused on bee, who’s chatting elita-1’s audible off. ‘Serves her right.’ D thought, smirking at her annoyed expression.

When blue optics meet his yellow one’s bee waved his servo, a bright smile on the sparkling’s faceplates. This made D smile as he himself waved back to bee.

He chuckled to himself and kept on walking, servos hitting the metallic rocks beneath. ‘Primus, this is lot to take in. We find the matrix, I’m heading back up.’

D thought, crossing his arms, staring out at the horizon. Thinking about bringing Orion and bee with him too, maybe making it a forever home again…

It’s wishful thinking, but it’s something he can put up with.

______________________

… I present.. a gift for @yuukirita for deceptibee, babybee and a lot more!

Oh! And also for @yourplaywright too cause… I love their warm colours fic that they finished… (That and I can’t stretch out to express my gratitude)

I-… I don’t know if I’m gonna do it again, uh… this is actually my very first transformers fic since… ever! And a baby fic too!

But all around what had lead to this story? I… wanted to write something…

[jweekgoji]

can i please.. request more of sentinel prime tfone… 🙏🙏 starved actually.. i LOVED ur fic..

TFO!Sentinel/High guard!Reader/Starscream [NSFW]

tw: pre-TFO, advisor!Sentinel (still a huge dick here as usual!), leader of the high guard!Starscream, possessive behavior, threesome, doggy style, gn!reader but they have a valve, PiV, blowjob. word count: ~1200 i wanted to post other fic i did before, but plans changed so yeah....i would sleep less but at least i made a sex fic with hot alien robots! anon, you asked for Sentinel but you also get Starscream as a gift :р

The fact that Starscream and Sentinel knew each other, at least to a level where one felt comfortable enough to mock the poor seeker while the other wants the false Prime dead...it just never leaves my thoughts. I wonder, how was their relationship before the fall of Primes? Before Sentinel became the self-proclaimed leader of Iacon?

As one of the high guards and protectors of Iacon, you always find yourself tied to Primes. As one of their loyal warriors, you are ready to defend your home against Quintessons in a sparkbeat. It is your duty, after all.

Your remarkable loyalty is one of the things that caught the attention of Starscream, at first. Attentive, obedient to the orders, respectful, what more could a commander dream of? You eventually find yourself right next to Starscream most of the time, during your shared missions.

But it seems a certain advisor of your well-beloved Primes just can't help but force himself between the two of you whenever he has a chance. It's hard to tell if Sentinel does this just to mess with a seeker, or was it a glimpse of jealousy you see in those pretty blue optics?

It wasn't really bothering you, really, most of the time, Sentinel was a nice company to kill some time with, even though you had to deal with grumpy Starscream on your back by the end of it. Be ready for him and his not so subtle, loud expression of dissatisfaction about it. If you had any idea what a parrot is, he would have reminded you of one.

“Can't you see that this fool is slacking off his duty just to come here and annoy me—no, us!?” he walks from one side, to another, a deep frown on the seeker's face, as he tries to control his anger.

“Yes, I can see that, Starscream,” you reply with a usual calmness, which, for some reason, just annoys him even more, as he gives you a glare.

“No you don't understand!” ...aaand here he goes again.

Regardless of the rivalry between the two bots, which mostly looks like a one-sided competitiveness from Starscream's side, you all have to work together, as one. That's why you can't just tell your Primes that your commander is a pain in the aft, because their advisor is apparently trying to drive their high guard's leader to nuts! What a day, huh? Imagine putting up with this for cycles. The idea of being able to live for millions of years doesn't sound so good now...

Sentinel tends to act in a more subtle way. The way he always makes sure to walk past you, flashing you a pearly white smile of his whenever he can, or maybe cracking some jokes, that would make both of you laugh. You barely even notice how he lays his servo on your shoulder, the act is so casual and yet, can't help but gain another hiss from Starscream, mumbling another curse towards the mech under his nose.

If you want two bots to start cooperating, make them share. Even though deep inside, they're all too greedy to do so. You can't exactly say that this is...what you quietly pleaded with Primus for. Not in a way like this, at least.

Finding yourself between the two mechs was overwhelming, suffocating, even. The proximity you find yourself in makes you shiver, your knees and arms hurting and slightly shaking, as you're positioned on all fours. Not to mention, that the position is more than just awkward.

“Now, now, can't you lower that squeaky voice of yours? Even our friend over here can't handle it,” Sentinel says, a voice hiding mockery by the image of concern, his servo encouragingly pets the top of your helm.

You can hear Starscream huff in return, his own pair of servos tightening around your waist, tugging you a little closer to him. Despite the situation, where the two were supposed to share, Starscream still keeps being a brat about it, you were his first, right? His comrade first, his subordinate, his, his, his— Why should he share with Sentinel, of all bots?

“You should shut your mouth before I slap it off your fragging...”

The way your valve clench around the seeker's spike makes him let out a strangled moan in pleasure, words dying on the tip of his glossa before he even has a chance to finish them, which only gains a cocky smirk on Sentinel's face.

“You're doing so good, sweetspark, you should see his face now,” Sentinel says lowly, his optics focused on your face. “He's speechless.”

Can he really blame Starscream for wanting to keep you all to himself? When you take him so, so well, swirling your glossa around the tip and making those cute little sounds, whenever he forces your head down his spike? You can feel his spike twitch in your mouth, leaking droplets of translfuid, and a short after - receiving a groan from the mech.

Does it really take all of this just to get some peaceful and quiet moments with you three? For both of them to finally shut their mouths and concentrate on more important things to do right now? Not like you're totally against it, though.

The way they're both, panting and overheating mess right now, squeezing, holding, and caressing every smooth part of your armor makes you arch your back into the touch, wanting..no, begging for more. Starscream is more than happy to serve, his hips snapping back and forth, driving his spike deeper inside you.

If the circumstances were different, he would have held you closer, pressed tightly against his chassis, with his servos around your waist and his face hidden in the crook of your neck. Would you like that? Be this close with him? Or you're just doing that because that blue moron is with you now? Starscream might annoy you with his constant complaints about this and that, but you certainly love him more. Are you? Please don't make him this desperate.

You feel Starscream's servos gripping your thighs harder, the feeling of your walls practically squeezing his spike makes his urge to overload right now almost unbearable. Almost, almost there, you can tell this by the way his optics are half lidded, and he bites his lip so hard, just to keep his own needy noises hidden. It would kill him to let Sentinel hear him this pathetic just from a quick fuck in one of the abandoned rooms.

If only the poor seeker had any idea how much of a desperate mech himself Sentinel is right now. His spike is pulsating and jerking more frequently with each passing second. Unlike Starscream, Sentinel would make sure the other mech heard everything. The soft “keep going”, “just like that”, or a “taking us so, so good, sweetspark” constantly heard from him. He likes how good your mouth feels around him, making him buck his hips into the feeling, he also likes how good his own voice sounds (he's a self-centered bastard, what do you expect?), but he likes it even more watching the other mech in such a state. If every time he toys with and teases the leader of the high guard, he ends up in a situation like this...Sentinel would love to keep this up.

[nazrigar]

Transformers All-Sparks - Intellectual Heavyweights (and two exceptions)

Happy Halloween for those where it's still October 31st!

Continuing my Transformers All-sparks AU, featuring some of the brightest minds in all of Cybertron. With the exception of Lt. Starscream and Terrorsaur.

Senator Starscream is a RESPECTED politician and member of the Cybertronian Senate. A master of many sciences, but found his love with political sciences. He is manipulative and gifted with much charisma, but is also prone to ill-temper and impulsiveness. Has three sons, and disappointed in each for not being the perfect successor for his political dynasty.

He named all his sons Starscream because his ego demanded it.

Lt. Starscream is the brute of the family, and is only his mind for all things military. He is here to show he's the best jetbot around, and show off his aim. He is mostly based off Bayverse Starscream (aka Doritoscream)

Youngstar is the scientifically minded son. He simply just seeks and wants approval from dear old dad. Has a close friendship with a member of a Jetfire from the Skyfire Clan. He is mostly based off Armada Starscream.

Terrorsaur is the youngest son who so desperately wants to prove his worth to his family, and even changing his alt mode (with some help) just to prove a point that he can succeed even in his new alt mode. This only angered the Senator.

Cryak is Starscream's mother. A love of myth, folklore and ecology, but believes she failed as a mother due to Starscream's enormous, all-encompassing ego.

Termagax is THE most well known scientist of the age, building great wonders and even figuring out the process of combination completley independently. Tends to move on and throw away works that, in the eyes of any other Cybertronian, would be considered a gift of Primus himself. Has a strained relationship with her son, Megatron.

Jhiaxus is old. REALLY old. So old he probably was responsible for establishing much of the great centers of learning. Considered a has-been whos position of Cyberton's greatest mind is taken by Termagax.

Tarantulas is perhaps the greatest mind of CNA analysis and biology. He is also someone you don't want to meet in a dark alley. The man is considered dangerous by other scientific mind. Helped Terrorsaur with his new alt form out of altruism, honestly!

[cozzzynook]

Rodimus becoming Conjunx to Megatron for the Peace Treaty. Percy coming to visit a few hours before to try and convince Roddy not to go through with it, that they will find another way for peace.

Who knows maybe the ceremonial robes are hiding a growing bump.

:>

Perceptor comes rushing into the back rooms of the ceremonial corridors wearing the fabrics of the cojunxs carrier and he rushes to his bitty who was placing a crown of jewels on his helm that made him look absolutely beautiful but it only furthered his resolve.

“My bitty mech, you don’t have to go through with this. You can leave with me and Brainstorm and we’ll find another way for the peace treaty to be enacted. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself anymore than you already have.”

And Perceptor means it.

His bitty has given his all for this war and his people and their homes. His homeland Nyon that Perceptor left him in for safety, a relationship with his very own carrier because of the dangers their frame types were subjected to and his very spark when facing off against Galvatron. Becoming a prime when reborn from his noble sacrifice and given a new name Primus whispered to him so he would be the first to welcome his bitty in name once again.

“Rodimus, my bitty mech,” and he wouldn’t be a carrier if he didn’t worry about his sparkling. To notice every single thing about them and know when a change has happened. So when he looks at his smiling bitty through the mirror and takes in the fullness of his face plates, the happiness leaking from his optics that have shifted back to their original orange color he fell in love with through emergence fluid and pains all those millions of years ago.

He knows something has changed.

“Sweet flame?”

His spark knows his bitty is fine but worry still takes hold and a gentle servo touching his own calms him and he’s kissing his bitties helm for reassurance that is always welcome.

“I’m okay carrier, I promise,” his bitty cries happily, titling his helm back so he can keep from ruining his face paint that Perceptor instinctively helps fix when he notices its not just Nyonian tradition.

“Is this..Kaonian?”

“Mhm,” his sparkling smiles, denta showing with a gleam as he blinks with a content lilt of his helm and looks back into the mirror where Perceptor takes in the ceremonial Nyonian silk that adorns his sparkling.

But something about is off in places that show Kaon tradition.

His silk is sheer and see through like in typical Nyonian tradition but the fabrics are layered as the Kaonians once adorned to keep overseers from gazing at their intended and granting long sought after privacy they gifted their bonded.

He remembers his bitty running on tiny pedes excitedly telling him he wanted sheer fabrics for his conjunxing ceremony because he would not allow the functionalists to make him small and hide his beauty nor Nyons beauty.

He can’t help wondering whats changed.

Apparently quite a few things, like the jewels forged from a gladiators very spark and inner energon that rests on the jewels adorning Rodimus’s helm.

“Are those,” he cannot finish his sentence, for if he did he was sure he’d ruin the peace conjunxing with his spark fluttering out.

“Yes,” Rodimus bubbles through laughter and tips his helm back once again to keep from ruining the intricate patterns they once practiced when he was but a toddling bitlet new to using his stabilizers on his own and up. With the additional Kaon swirls and flumes that glowed with his sparklings lively energon mist that flowed like an aroma around him.

“He’s given me his innermost energon and the jewels he grew from his spark,” and Rodimus nipping lightly at his derma while shifting his optics tells him its more and he has to sit down for this next part.

“When I was still Hot rod..thats when he began growing them..before I was Rodimus, before I was a prime or joined the ranks as a leader,” his sparkling tears up and vents through his intake to keep from bursting.

“When I was just me. Running with my friends in Nyon to sneak past the boarders into Kaon for the very first time,” his sparkling shifted oddly to face him. He noticed in passing that the layers of silk not only didn’t hug his frame but there were no Nyonian jewels tied around his hip and tank plating. Tied jewels were one of Nyons symbols for joining together as one and he worried why his bitty wouldn’t honor the tradition when it was a favorite among the people.

“He saw me hiding within the pillars and almost lost the match from looking at me and then from trying to keep his opponent from destroying the pillar I was in,” Rodimus giggled.

“It was..It was the reason I stayed in Kaon for so many years when the others came back and why I was safe from the first attack. I was never there. In fact, he kept me in our berth,” he laughed, “Soundwave was teasing him so much for treating me like that when I could fight myself,” he smiled.

“He’s been putting so much thought into this for such a long time,” Rodimus smiled, fidgeting with his servos as his processor flitted somewhere else before coming back.

“I’ll be more than safe and happy, carrier. I promise,” Rodimus assured before leaning a little and waving to Brainstorm who was holding s gadget he didn’t want to know the function of.

“Please don’t let that go off on my cojunx ceremony. Or the next,” shifting his gaze to Perceptor who looked even more frame shocked.

“This is a special one yes but he’s already trying to plan another. A more intimate and private one with our friends and family.”

“Two ceremonies? Woah, I really don’t need this,” Brainstorm downsized the machine and put it away for safe keeping. “The ceremony is about to start clever spark,” Brainstorm rested two servos on both sides of Perceptors shoulders and rubbed them to ease him from his multiple lines of thoughts.

It made Rodimus’s spark sing to know his carrier was so loved and cherished the way he enjoyed and deserved.

“Carrier, he already knows so..well..at our private ceremony I wish for you and grandsire to walk me down the aisle. But for this one..,” Rodimus felt his spark twist with nerves and his carrier was up close in a nano klik assuring him.

“I.its such an honor to walk my baby down the aisle,” and his carrier shedding a tear or two was expected by the both of them and Brainstorm understood to give them another moment, though slim, alone.

“I love you carrier,” Rodimus hugged his creator from his position sitting and Perceptor didn’t question it. He hugged his bitty back that went from a crying new spark to a grown mech getting conjunxed in the blink of an optic and the wrap of his arms as their em fields melded like always.

“You made my spark live,” his carrier whispered, kissing his forehelm, shedding a tear.

A fleeting memory passed with the two tangled in a bond they forged for the moment Perceptor learned of his sparklings gestation.

It would never feel like enough.

Not with how much love they had to give to the other but it was a moment they would find once again.

Smiling to himself, he braced himself as his carrier moved back and grabbed the door pulling it open.

With no one else outside it was safe for him to touch his tanks and cradle the lower half while his other servo laid flat on the mirrors table so he could heft himself up.

He was happy his creator hadn’t seen him do that and looking in the mirror without his servo on his tanks the silk was mostly shapeless…until he moved.

Seems his spark bonded was right.

Cyber crystals that he’d grown specifically for him in their garden it was.

It did him justice in distracting from the heavy bump that already made him lean back and waddle. Not by much but he was hoping for his creators tears that he no doubt would share along with his spark bonded would be distraction enough.

So with an apology to his creator who was confused, he smiled, held the crystals at appropriate height to try and cover the heavy bump that made him look so much farther along than he truly was and well…he waddled to his creator who broke down in tears at his bitty having a bitty.

All the way from the dressing rooms to the aisle where he saw his spark bond blink and his windpipe close before a tear broke out and he was covering his face plate to save his image even as his massive shoulders shook.

Rodimus managed to ruin his ceremonial paint on the first step from the dressing room at his carriers tears. He was a complete mess by the time he slow waddled to his conjunx who held him close in a hug he couldn’t make bruising or paint transferring.

They didn’t even make it to Optimus asking if they would like to exchange words of love or coupling or for the peace treaty. Like every mech, slag near every single cybertronian that was left alive if they were being honest, they wanted an end to the fighting and a beginning to life where freedom and happiness was a promise and given.

So when the two just said the ceremonial Nyonian and Kaonian words of spark joining affirmation while looking each other in the optics, crying, before tasting each others dermas like their sparks depended on it.

No one could blame them.

Poor Optimus was not prepared for their urgency and spacing from their surroundings but he couldn’t say he didn’t know the two were already involved which is why he agreed whole spark of the two using a conjunx union to seal the peace treaty.

If it were him and Shockwave he was sure there’d be far more backlash and rejection seeing as the public didn’t even have a hint of the twos history or long partnership that had many ups and downs yet still stood.

He also refused to let his bitty Bumblebee be subjected to anymore prying optics while caring for his and Starscreams fresh spark that he emereged not even a month ago.

They were in luck Rodimus was able to work on a way to try and hide his sparkling tank. Though Optimus was sure many would pick up on it once the pictures came through.

Especially since there was a clear shot once Megatron lifted Rodimus in his arms and carried him off. Even with the mechs large servo trying to cover Rodimus’s tank covertly it was obvious if you knew what to look for.

And Optimus was thankfully wrong since so many were caught up on Megatron actually crying and being able to cry.

Rodimus thought the headlines were funny.

Even now as Megatron rubbed his pedes and moved to rub his hip plating and tanks placing kisses on them, he thought the newest headline was hilarious. Especially since this one was showing Shockwave and Optimus coming back from one of their late night dates where Optimus let himself go and got charged on engex and Shockwave carried him home.

His laughter made his tanks jump and the feeling made Megatron smile as he continued kissing the large, growing mound that held their new reason to enjoy living.

He kept rubbing the aches from Rodimus’s frame as he made the story interesting.

If this was his life, he hoped to enjoy ten millions more years of it and then some. In this and the next life.

[lets-try-some-writing]

i remember the younger primes being outcasted/mistreated by the older primes after the battle w/ unicron in the covenant of primus, though i don't remember if thirteen was also mistreated since i haven't read it in a long time

so i was thinking maybe a short story about thirteen being mistreated? but like, marginally more since he's thr absolute last of the thirteen

I got you pal.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Giftless, powerless, without purpose. That was what they said about him nonstop. They did not mean to be cruel, Thirteen could see it in their optics. They were merely stating what they saw as a fact. That didn't stop it from hurting. That didn't keep him from wandering aimlessly in order to escape their backhanded words.

Most of his siblings ignored him or otherwise regarded him distantly. He was a decoration at the best of times and a roadblock on days when the patience of his kin was limited. Prima threw him out of the way once, and Quintus threatened to drop him in a vat of acid just to see if an energy being could melt. If he wasn't a waste of space, he was a training dummy. There really wasn't much of a choice on his end. he didn't feel pain, so of course it was only logical that he assist in things that had him performing as an object rather than a person. Thirteen was not their equal, not in the optics of his fellow Primes.

The only one who treated him well was the most unlikely of the Primes. The only other partial outcast.

"Thirteen, my little Prime, what have they done to you this time." Solus ran her digits along his armor, the armor she made for him when she saw how damaged his original shell had become. It was a gift forged with love after she finally witnessed how carelessly he was being treated.

Where before she had largely ignored him, now she coddled him. Perhaps it was the fact that Thirteen was being damaged, or maybe it was simply because she had been mostly unaware of his presence. It could have even been because she saw another outcast in him. Whatever the case, she tended to him.

"Another scorch mark..." She sighed as she pulled him into a hug. It was a new thing for him, but Thirteen melted into her embrace all the same. She was the only one who understood. She was the only one who cared.

"I'm sorry they cannot see your light as I do." She shook as she caressed his helm so lovingly forged for his use. He could feel her tears trickling onto his armor. He wanted more than anything to wipe them away, but there was little use. She was the only one of their number who did not match the mold set by the others, and Thirteen was the broken Prime lacking in power and frame. They were outcasts, and neither of them were going to cease being scorned for their oddities any time soon.

"I promise you, I will change things for us. We will be seen, and when I can convince the others, I will personally make you a seat at our table." Solus cupped his face, her violet optics burning bright with passion. She would do as she promised, regardless of the cost. Thirteen wished he had a voice to deny her wishes with. He was fine being discarded so long as he had her. He needed no seat at the table of the Primes. He needed no respect or honor despite how much he longed for it.

He just needed Solus, and he needed her to be safe. Standing up for him would only make her a target. Her oddities already had her position hanging by a mere thread. If she were to act out on his behalf...

"Don't, please don't. they will hurt you as they do me."

His words meant nothing. She could not hear his pleading thoughts as she comfortingly began the process of touching every new scar upon his frame. It did not hurt. He was incapable of feeling pain. But by Primus, did every mark feel like a scorch on his spark.

"I will speak with Megatronus. If all goes well, we may gain him as our ally and fix things. Don't you worry Thirteen, this too shall pass." She pressed a kiss to the crest of his helm, a motherly gesture that Thirteen cherished. He prayed that she would endure, that her passionate spark would last forever.

And yet, he had a feeling it was not to be.

[cyber-skeletons]

Matrix

They say it is a gift to be chosen A blessing A boon granted only to the most worthy. "Smile, O child, and open your chest to receive the light of those who came before you;" Step into their shadows and surrender your spark so that you may be cleansed in purifying fire, Light that burns like the core of a star, purging Washing, changing, stripping paint and personality.

Is it supposed to hurt this much?

Blessed be, Prime of Primus, forged anew Your old frame warped and twisted into a vessel Befitting the prophets of your God; Your processor now full of voices not your own, Whispers and guiding hands crawling down your neck And twining 'round your wrists like strings.

You have never taken a life before.

As lifeblood runs down your ax and optics go dark, Colorful plating fading to gray, The sacred choir in your chest sings 'Holy, holy, holy' And you wonder if this is what it truly means To be loved by the Divine.

"Is it not a gift to return to the AllSpark?"

Your friend, your brother, your lover stands across from you (not you, not your frame, not your name) And looks at you as if you are a monster, and as the sacred Artifact nestled between your sparks whispers at you to Extinguish his forever, you think maybe you are.

Holy, holy, holy.

You learn to ignore yourself in time. The self is not holy, Not when filled with the wisdom and light of the Primes. The others, your followers, your soldiers, your friends(?) Call you "Prime" with awe in their voices and joy in their fields As you give and cut of yourself to provide, to comfort, to guide; you pray for your God to have mercy on them as they kill and die In your name (not your name, not your frame), for their Prime.

There is no mercy left for you.

[l0nesome-dreams]

She was innocent and pure, but look what she has become because of you. An Angel with Devils Wings.

Too lazy to draw a background so this’ll have to do! Some lore art for the girlie. Basically when she received her cog Primus gifted her wings which she grows to hate because of Sentinel, and all the lovely things he did to her. I’ll have to draw her “perfect” gold and white version later.

[peggingprowl]

A gift for @cmofirstaid! Hope you enjoy this as much as do <3

A Helping Hand

Summary: First Aid has been daydreaming about you and your touch. When you walk in on him, you decide to give him a bit of a helping hand.

Tags: oral sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia, x reader, bot!reader, 1300~ words

First Aid bites his lips, stifling a whimper as he drags his servo along his spike. He slowly pumps it, taking his time to feel the texture of his biolights and ridges— all the while imagining it was your servos touching him.

The idea makes him whimper again. Frag. Would you tease him like this, slowly dragging your servo along his spike? Or perhaps you'd like to play with the slit on top, wringing out droplets of transfluid that you'd lick up.

"Ah, fragging Primus—" he moans, gripping his spike hard as he staves off an overload. He didn't want this to be over so quick—

"Need a hand?"

First Aid startles, squeaking in surprise as his facemask slams shut instinctively. Primus above, he wasn't actually expecting you to show up. He knew doing this in his office was a risk, anyone could walk in, but you? Of all mechs? He feels mortified, but his spike still twitches in his servo, betraying is arousal.

"I-I. It's. Frag me. I wasn't expecting any— Haven't you heard of knocking?!" he sputters, still painfully hard and exposed. He knew he should've gone with his valve, he could've closed his panel then, nevermind the inevitable mess!

"Oh, I did. You didn't answer, so I got a bit worried. Color me surprised to see this delicious sight," you purr, "You never did answer, Aid. Do you want a hand?"

He sputters for a moment, processor whirling as he tries to understand that curveball that just slammed into him face first. He's not sure that this isn't a wild processor dream, and he runs a quick diagnostic to make sure.

Yep. He's awake.

He watches you take a step forward. "C'mon now, show me that handsome face again," you crone, reaching a servo out.

He lets his faceplate slide back with a soft clink, mesmerized by your optics. Ever so slowly, you lean in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He whines slightly, optics flickering behind his visor as you pull him deeper. He opens his mouth against your insistent glossa, the kiss quickly morphing into something more messy and desperate. Clearly you had been wanting this as much as he has— the thought makes him dizzy.

"Please," he begs breathlessly against your lips, his own grip upon his spike slacken.

Who are you to deny him?

You pull away, his lips swollen and flush from your kisses. How pretty, he looks. Kneeling down in front of him, you pull his slackened servo away from his straining spike and replace with your own.

First Aid's vocalizer hitches the slight touch, hips bucking up. You tut, swirling a finger around the pre-fluid already decorating his spike.

"Look at you, so desperate for my touch. Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you."

And with that, you begin to languidly pump, eagerly watching him for his reactions. You drink in the sighs and twitches and moans as he falls apart under your talented fingers. His servos grasp hard at the chair's arms as you drip a finger into his slit, his head tossing back as he loudly moans.

"That's it baby, make all those pretty noises. Let me know how much you're loving this."

"Ah, Hng— F-frag, please!" He whines, writhing under your touch. Broken moans laced with static pour out of him.

You lean in, taking the tip of his spike inside your mouth.

"AH—!" He cries out, delirious with pleasure. You hum around his spike, savoring the sweet flavor of his transfluid. Swirling your glossa around, you tease at the nodes lining the head, before dipping down into his slit.

He babbles broken pleas above you, and you feel copious amounts of pre-fluid leak from your actions. Seems like you found a sensitive spot. Good to know.

You double down, wanting to pull more of those wonderful sounds out of First Aid. He does not disappoint.

He wails in pleasure as you descend further down his spike, servo pumping in time.

First Aid doesn't know how much more of this he can take— he feels his overload approaching fast.

"I-I'm-! Frag— ah! I'm close!" He chokes out. You hum around his spike, delighted.

He convulses, moaning loudly as overload washes over him. He unloads a gush of transfluid down your throat— and you continue to suck and pump, eager to milk every last drop from him.

His spike gives another few twitches under your ministrations. He moans lowly, panting as he recovers.

You still don't stop.

He shifts under you, whining slightly. And then louder. You still continue.

First Aid thought you were done after he came, but evidently you were not. His vocalizer hitches as you prod his slit with your glossa again.

"Wha— what?" he stutters weakly, head lolling.

You pull off slightly, still slowly pumping away. "I'm not done yet, baby. Just hang on a little more. I know you can handle it. Let me hear you," you murmur.

First Aid only nods, mouth wide open as he pants, charge begining to simmer once more. He loses himself in the swirl of your glossa, letting you bring him back up to that peak once again.

Another hard suck and swirl, and he breaks, moaning weakly as his second overload crashes over him, transfluid bursting once more into your awaiting mouth.

With a slow pop, you pull away

"Good boy," you grin. His spent spike twitches at the compliment.

You give him a moment to recover, his fans blasting after the two back-to-back overloads.

You weren't done with him yet.

With a gentle servo, you tap on his valve panel.

"Huh—?" he says, picking his head up to glace down at you.

You grin up at him."Baby, I said I take care of you. I've treated your spike, but I have yet to see your valve. Open up? Please?"

First Aid contemplates it for a moment. Hng. He just had the best blowjob of his Primus damned life. That glossa on his valve? Would probably kill him. But what a way to go.

His panel slides open, a silent invitation.

His valve is absolutely drenched in lubricant from his past two overloads. The plush white folds gleam, highlighted by his pulsing red nodes. You lick a stripe along one side, gathering that delicious lubricant, letting put a pleased hum as he twitches under you.

You delve into his swollen folds, spurred on by the gasps and moans he gives. Digging your glossa inside of him, you trace every nook and cranny you can reach. Your servos grip tightly upon his thighs, stabilizing yourself. You flick your tongue to his bright node, swirling around it before gently sucking.

A loud, broken wail escapes First Aid. It was so much. He bucks his hips at the overstimulation, it was still so soon after his previous two overloads— and yet a other was coming at him like a freight train.

Another suck to his node. First Aid feels tears gathering in his optics. Frag. He's so close.

He lets out a sob as you continue, your vice-like grip not letting him pull away from the onslaught of your glossa upon his folds. Tears trickle down his cheeks, mixing with the drool that clings to his messy, flushed face. He grinds down, chasing the overwhelming pleasure.

First Aid tosses his head back, spasming as overload once more overtakes him. An absolute flood of lubricant squirts out of him, drenching your face and his thighs as he cries and whines, mouth agape.

You pull away, futilely wiping your face as he crumples into his chair.

....He's probably going to need a new chair. This one is absolutely soaked in his transfluid and lubricants.

Standing up, you cradle his limp head with your servo, giving him a gentle kiss. His mouth still open, he whimpers at the taste of his own lubricants.

"Good job, baby," you whisper, "Let me know if you ever need another hand."

[mychlapci]

Home birth obsessed Drift but Ratchet's the one carrying.

Drift tries so hard to sell Ratchet on having their sparkling in their habsuite. Explaining to him the greater spiritual connection they would have to their little gift from Primus would be like talking to a wall, but if Drift could spin it that not only is home birth a very well documented practice, it would give Ratchet far more control of any possible complications, it could turn his hard no into a solid maybe. Drift is very eager to talk his conjunx into having their baby in bed, not as much for any spiritual reasons, but because he wants to enjoy watching Ratchet's valve stretch open uninterrupted and unjudged by anyone else.

When Ratchet seems mostly on board, Drift starts to make moves. He didn't imagine he could talk Ratchet into another home delivery, so he'd have to get everything he wanted out of this one. It would be so easy for Drift to pull rank as third in command and get Ratchet on carrier leave earlier than he needs to be. If he looks at Rodimus all sad and tells his amica he's worried about Ratchet, telling Rodimus how Ratchet is so exhausted and in pain so early in his carrying cycle, he knew the captain would buy it. Ratchet wouldn't even be able to fight it, if he did Rodimus would only think the medic is being defensive so he can keep overworking himself. It was the perfect little white lie from Drift to keep his conjunx inside and cozy, all for him.

Keeping Ratchet cooped up in their habsuite off duty and bored out of his helm, Drift would make sure to leave entertainment behind for his sweet conjunx. Plenty of snacks for their growing sparkling and data pads full of information about home delivery. Drift never intended to fully hypnotize his husband, but if the data pads made Ratchet a little more open to suggestion, maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world. Ratchet's snacks were a courtesy of his fellow medics. Drift had given them his sob story about Ratchet having a hard time carrying, and just happened to mention Ratchet "telling him" how he was worried about producing enough energon for their sparkling. Ratchet's snacks that he had grown very fond of had all the supplements a carrier needed to have a healthy and safe carriage, something only Drift and Ratchet's well meaning coworkers knew.

By the time Ratchet was slightly over halfway through carrying, he looked ready to pop. His windshield had been entirely removed by that point, after an incident where the glass cracked overnight from his growing breasts, leaving him exposed at all times in the hab. He couldn't see his pedes anymore over his belly, he really couldn't remember the last time he could. His head felt so fuzzy nowadays, and the only thing that would clear his mind was his data pads and when his loving conjunx would spike him into their berth. It was an unexpected side effect Drift was happy to take advantage of, his prenatal supplements he had been feeding Ratchet had increased the medic's libido tenfold. His party ambulance was desperate for transfluid every waking minute, and the speedster was happy to offer it.

Emergence had finally come, and Ratchet was shockingly calm and collected. His data pads had made him very relaxed about his oncoming birth, and while he still felt a little fuzzy, he could rely on not just his own medical skills, but his conjunx who was incredibly excited to help. Ratchet whined and squirmed when he felt Drift licking his leaking valve open, feeling his calipers cycling and expanding in preparation for what was to come. Drift was less in control of himself than Ratchet was, if the medic could see him past his pregnant belly he would say he looked restrained. While Drift was dripping in his panels watching his conjunx's valve open wide, it was important to him that his lover was safe and well cared for too. Ratchet would gasp and cry, but not scream as their chunky sparkling moved down his valve. Drift sat between Ratchet's legs, leaning into the puddle of fluids gathered in their berth to get a good look at that twitching wet valve. Once the sparkling was crowing, Ratchet would finally let out a loud pained noise. The sparkling had taken after Drift in the way of having pointy finials. Drift would squeeze his fingers into Ratchet's valve besides their little one's helm, pushing it back up Ratchet's valve to be readjusted. If Drift was reaching deeper than he needed to in his partner's wrecked valve, he didn't need to know about it, besides who could blame Drift when it made Ratchet let out such sweet noises.

Their sparkling was finally delivered after Drift had had enough lightly tormenting his partner. Ratchet held his dear little sparkling to his leaking nozzles and pet their sharp helm while the big chubby bitlet drank away. It was all Drift had wanted in every way, a perfect little family and a warm, intimate moment. Maybe it was because he was half awake after all the strain, or thinking about his data pads, but Ratchet really liked the idea of making another sparkling right there and then. Drift was so caught up in the moment, who was he to deny his perfect carrier?

oughh.. it's always fun when Drift is a little obsessive. He just wants to watch Ratchet give birth so badly, he can't stand the thought of a doctor obscuring his view. He needs to be there, between Ratchet's thighs, massaging his valve as Ratchet pushes with each contraction.

It's a very big bitlet. All those supplements, consistent transfluid donations and frequent fueling have led to the baby getting chucky and fat inside of Ratchet, swelling out his belly so far out that he couldn't sit without reclining back to make room for it. Ratchet was happy, though, pumped so full of hormones he was constantly fuzzy and horny, and Drift is more than happy to fuck his pregnant valve into labour when the time came for it <3

I can definitely imagine Drift savouring the sight of their baby crowning. Ratchet's valve opens so wide, it almost looks like he'll break, and then the head finally slips out... Drift's spike almost pops out. He tugs the sparkling out of Ratchet gently, handing him their chunky little miracle so it can feed on its mommy's milk.

Ratchet is so lost in it that he starts to grind back against Drift telling him to put another baby in him now. He wants it so badly, how can Drift deny him? mhmm Ratchet spends a long time pregnant... he has a full belly while his first sparkling is still nursing, ready to birth a second one right into Drift's waiting hands <33

[tinydefector]

Swerve: traditionally, humans gift chocolates and stuffed animals, as a display of hunting prowess and ability to provide, on the fourteenth of February. This is because a deity named saint valentine is said to bless conjux pairs on this day.

-bumpinSUV

Traditions

Swerve x Human reader

Word count; 1k

Warnings: none

Heeeyyyyy Bumpin got some food for you~. Enjoy some clueless and hopeless romantic Swerve becuase I said so.

_______

Swerve stared down at the clunky plastic earth animals and chocolates clutched in his servos, completely befuddled. It had sounded like such a good plan when he came across it! But now, facing his human, uncertainty crept in. He offered an awkward chuckle. "Uh, happy February fourteenth! I know on Earth it's tradition for you guys to, uh, exchange dead animal carcasses and sweets as a romantic gesture. Something about showing you can provide, I think?" 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Swerve hoped he hadn't misunderstood. Or offended them! Primus, why was organic culture so weird? "So, uh, I thought maybe you'd like these gifts. Even though mice probably aren't a big hunting prize for humans." He cringed internally. At how embarrassed he was. "S-so, what do you think? Did I get the tradition right? Or should I just forget the whole—"

They give Swerve a slight look as they cut him off. "Swerve, why would you need to hunt?, plus it's July if my callander is right " They ask while looking at the stuff Swerve had set up, it looked as if he was trying to organise a date for them, it was a rather cute little set up more so than past people they had ever dated before, Their words fall silent as they take in the scene. 

Wincing internally, Swerve fidgeted under their searching gaze. Frag, this was even worse than he'd feared. "Well, ya know, I did some reading that Earth Valentines is about showing you can provide for a mate. And I know I ain't got much to offer organics, but I wanted to try!" He held out the gifts in his massive metal hands, practically trembling. 

"I know it ain't exactly a feast or nothin'. But I saw these toys and thought, maybe they'd pass for some small game? And the chocolate's real! Well, not made of real chocolate, more like synthechoc. But it's what I could get you!" 

Slumping with a sigh, Swerve knew he must look utterly foolish. But they deserved his honesty. "Look, I just wanna show ya I care, okay? Even if I'm lousy at Earth courting."

"My courting..." they go quiet for a moment before starting to giggle which turns into laughter. "Swerve Honey, Valentine's day, is in February. It's a day to spend with loved ones and enjoy each other's company, sometimes trade gifts to special people, which most are fake flowers and sweets" they continue to giggle softly. "What did you think was handsome?" They ask with a smile.

"O-oh." Swerve felt his plating heat as their laughter sank in, truly mortified. He should've just stuck to energon pouring and storytelling, left the Earth traditions well alone! "I, uh, may have misunderstood some cultural exchange files," he admitted bashfully. "Thought it was about proving yourself as a good provider! You know, strong and capable." 

He scuffed his pede sheepishly. "Maybe shoulda just asked you straight out, huh? Instead of all this." Swerve gestured ruefully at the mess of toys and candy. They smile and grab his servos. 

A warm glow flooded his Spark at their smile, though. Maybe he hadn't fragged it up totally. "So, uh, does that mean...you'd still consider spending time with me? We could watch a flick, share some high grade—" He cycled a vent, fans whirring. "I just wanna make you happy, anyhow I can. Without any mouse-hunting required."

They laugh lightly as they move towards him. "Swerve, please it's OK, calm down" they call out while waiting for him to sit down so they can at least touch his faceplate. "Yes you probably should have come to me to ask about it, but now I'm more interested in who told you about Valentine's day." they hum while pressing a kiss to his nasal ridge. 

Swerve's vents stuttered as their lips brushed his plating in a gentle kiss. "W-well, you know how it is - a mech hears stuff in the bar sometimes," he replied shyly, fans whirring as they caressed his face. "I think maybe Rung was telling Rodimus about Earth traditions, and overheard Whirl say something about hunting prowess being important for it." 

He groaned, covering his optics. "Frag, I should've known better than to trust second-hand cultural osmosis from that glitchheads, i justed wanted to do something special for you." Lowering his hand, Swerve gazed down at them hopefully. "Sorry about the mess, forgive my clumsy courting attempt? There's still a whole stash of synthechoc with your designation on it." 

He's still sheepish as they laugh at him, their hand trying to keep it in and not embarrass Swerve more. " Maybe you could, um, give me some proper pointers? About Earth holidays and such? I'd really like to get it right next time." They give him another soft kiss which he melts into.

 "Think we might have to talk about human holidays, and Swerve I don't expect you to have to follow human stuff. You know that right?" They ask softly tracing his face.

Swerve leaned happily into their gentle touch, systems buzzing with joy. "I know, I know. Don't gotta do human things if they don't make sense," he conceded affectionately. 

"It's just..." He vented softly, captured by their smile. "I wanna understand where you come from, y'know? Be able to celebrate the special days that are important to you. Share in your culture."

His fans hitched as their fingers traced the seams of his faceplates. How did they always make him feel so calm yet alive all at once? "So maybe lessons would help this fool bot out, huh?" Swerve ventured shyly. He nuzzled into their hand with a lovesick sigh. "I just want to be able to spend time with you doin things that are important, that's really all I want, sweetspark. To be wherever you are."

 "Alright, how about we set up your hab and watch some vids.?" They inquire with a sly smile on their face.

Swerve perked up, any trace of embarrassment melting away in his eagerness. His engine gave a happy rev, hope blooming in his spark. Clapping his servos together, he bounced on his pedes like an excited sparkling. "Oh frag yes, I'll fire up the holoprojector right away!" 

In an instant he had them swept into his arms, cradling them gently against his chassis as he strode off toward his berth. The gifts were forgotten in his joyful haste. "You're gon' teach me everything, sweetspark! Holidays, customs, what all those weird organic dishes are!" He nuzzled their cheek fondly as he walked.

________

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[cybertron-after-dark]

More questionable tfa headcanons

-Bumblebee and Bulkhead do impressions of Optimus behind his back. Bulkhead actually feels kinda bad about it but that does not stop him. Prowl is not immune to joining in. OP still hasn't caught them.

-Optimus really wants to adopt a dog once he's positive he could adequately take care of one. He loves the idea of keeping a big grey one and naming him Silverbolt, after Silverbolt Major from the great war. It just feels right.

-Starscream will never admit to listening to the dumb sound patterns humans call music, but in private he's a swiftie, and he WILL sing shake it off if nobody's watching.

-Lugnut bakes in his off time, and he keeps trying to spoil Megatron with little treats, as his grand and glorious master deserves little gifts and tributes whenever Lugnut can give them. Sadly, Megatron doesn't actually have much of a sweet tooth so most of Lugnut's edible gifts get passed off to someone else.

-you know that bit in the Allspark almanac where Lugnut is bitching about earth sports and the Tigatron stadium? He has such strong feelings because Blitzwing loves that shit and keeps trying to rope Lugnut into playing. For Blitzwing, it reminds him of his gladiator days, it's a way to have fun and reminisce without killing someone. For Lugnut, it can't compare, it's kinda just a watered down, wussified version of real gladiatorial combat.

-upon discovering ytps, both bumblebee and bulkhead trained their voice synthesizers to be able to mimic the edited sounds. Sometimes they'll use it in the middle of a fight as a sort of secret code so the cons can't pick up on what they're planning to counter it. Optimus has mixed feelings. He doesn't understand what the hell they're saying like 90% of the time, and he recognizes this isn't proper military strategy, but he can't argue with the results. At least they're sort of taking the fights seriously?

-Blitzwing and Blackarachnia fucking hate each other but Megatron frowns upon infighting, so instead of constant violence, they've sort of settled on an escalating cold war of inconveniences and irritants. Neither of them can throw a punch, or set anything up that would result in actual injury, but immobilizing via ice or webs is fine, provided it doesn't affect tactical matters. Blitzwing constantly freezes the locks on BA's door, BA spikes Blitzwing's energon with cyber venom, pretty much anything that could qualify as day ruining. The worst was when Blitzwing covered BA with electronic paint and turned her into a walking rainbow all day.

-prowl wants to volunteer at animal shelters but he's a bit too big to fit in most of the buildings

-both shockwave and starscream are horrible liars but Megatron is terrible at picking up when someone's lying, so starscream's scheming went unnoticed for years and shockwave was sent in as a spy with full confidence that he wouldn't blow his cover.

-ratchet and optimus have been teaching Sari bits of cybertronian. Optimus teaches her the more formal aspects of the language, given there's a high chance she'll be interacting with Ultra Magnus, the guilds domesticus, and other high ranking autobots that warrant a more formal address. Ratchet (Mr "don't call me sir, I work for a living") teaches her more day to day, informal cybertronian. And swears. He teaches her pretty much all the swears.

-when Sari moved in, Optimus learned to cook so she wouldn't have to live off fast food from the burger bot. Which was hell for the big guy because why in primus's name is human fuel so complicated? He used to think sugar was pretty much an energon equivalent, cut and dry. He was wrong. He was so wrong. OP usually has Sari help him out because he cant exactly taste it to make sure it's, you know, actually edible.

-Prowl loves animals and the natural parts of earth with all his spark, but man are some parts of it brutal. When he learned what a parasitoid wasp was he couldn't sleep for days.

-bulkhead actually wants to go to a human art college once the war's over. Maybe not full time but he definitely wants to pick up some classes and learn what he can. Once he gets good enough, he wants to bring that knowledge back to Cybertron and see what other bots do with it.

-Optimus has a collection of skeezy romance novels. The equivalent on Cybertron is kind of an obscure rarity, only really sold in the seediest of places, so he couldn't really believe how easy it was to find smut like that on Earth. The intrinsic human fleshiness of the book characters always weirds him out just a bit, but not enough to ruin it for him. It's not really the pornographic aspect he's interested in, after all, it's the romantic aspect. He keeps his digital stash double encrypted in his datatrax, because he knows if anyone found it (cough cough bumblebee cough) he'd never hear the end of it.

-giving Blitzwing internet access was a mistake. Now he knows what memes are and random has been making that every other decepticon's problem since he found out. Megatron has to constantly guess whether what would normally be a standard Blitzwing non sequitur is actually a setup for Megatron to get laughed at by the entire human internet. He's fallen for updog, he's fallen for Ligma, he will NOT be caught slipping again.

-while he was undercover, once a week, shockwave would call Megatron and complain over a few barrels of oil about what kind of stupid slag his pompous idiot crankshaft coworkers would pull. One of the few autobot names Megatron could remember was Sentinel Prime, solely from the long list of transgressions Shockwave has drunkenly recounted.

-Soundwave hates most humans but he's decided that a few specific bands whose music he likes will be spared when the revolution comes, inferior as they may be.

-Prowl sends jazz earth music sometimes. It's pretty much blown Jazz's mind because most of the music on Cybertron is propaganda songs. He's not really used to songs about things other than war heroes, or even songs with no words at all. Just music for its own sake.

-Sentinel Prime's only friend is Cliffjumper and Cliffjumper only hangs out with him for brown nosing sycophantic reasons, not because he actually likes the guy.

-Ultra Magnus knows he's a corrupt bastard. He doesn't lose sleep over it, as long as his public image is good.