Hi first time asker here and very nervous about this tbh. But I saw your mass displacement au stuff and now I can't stop thinking about it with TFA bulkhead specifically I think he should be allowed to be Tiny....... also cat tax this is Coco :3
Awww!
Mass Displacement Mayhem- Soft AU
TFA Bulkhead x Reader
• Optics widening as hands grab him from behind, his head turns and he relaxes when he realizes it’s just you. Whatever just happened, he’d mass shifted down past his limits. Until he’s tiny compared to you. “Come on, we’re bringing everyone to the dorms,” you say, cradling him against yourself. Holding him. Servos trembling faintly as he grips your coveralls sleeve, he tries to remember if anyone has ever held him like this. Used to being bigger than most Autobots, but lately ignored unless someone needed something or he was in the way.
• “I can walk,” he mumbles and he sounds almost embarrassed as you smile faintly. Fighting the urge to hug him when he’s so small, because the Cybertronians are just so cute and harmless this size. Know the harmless part is probably not true since they all have built in weapons, but they seem much less intimidating this size. ‘I know,’ you reply, shifting him against yourself. ‘How often can I carry you, though?’ Because normally, he’s hoisting you up onto his shoulder to ride as he walks through the base.
• Wants so bad to rest his head against you. Would that be weird? Probably, but it’s just so rare to be held like this. To feel warm and wanted. Not like he’s too big and in the way. Only useful if someone needs his strength or a bruiser. And that’s not really him. Would almost rather stay small. Maybe he could stay in your apartment in the dorms. You could find him art supplies and he could paint and draw. Learn an instrument. Do all the things he’s always wanted to do, but was denied because of his frame. Told that he couldn’t be what he wanted to be, that he was only good for physical labor.
• Feeling him slump slightly, head against you, you’re wondering if he really wanted to walk on his own. If you’ve upset him. Crouching slightly to put him down, his strange hand grasps your fingers. “I want to go with you,” he says, voice gruff and you slowly stand again with him. ‘Everything okay?’ You ask and he vents softly, servos flexing on your fingers. “Think we could get some paint? Or just something to draw with?” He asks and you blink down at him.
• “Sure? I didn’t know that you liked to draw and paint,” you say and he’s too embarrassed to admit that he doesn’t know if he likes it or not. Just that it’s always fascinated him, but he was never allowed to try. Art was for the wealthy bots with fancy frames. Not mechs built like him. But here on this world without those in power constantly reminding him of his place? He feels like he can be something more. That he can make his own choices. Like you. Wants to keep spending time with you, letting you court him even though he’s sure you could do better. Because you look at him and actually see him.
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Gmornin! Hope you're doing well! Can I please request Bulkhead? Specifically tfp? I feel like he doesn't get any love at all and I think the dude just has so much love to give. Seems like a huge teddy bear and id love to give him a smooch 🥰
Sure!
Vocabulary
TFP Bulkhead x Reader
• You’re right there. All he has to do is walk over there. Talk to you. Venting softly as you laugh at something one of the other resident humans says, he rumbles to himself. Because this shouldn’t be so hard. He’s a Wrecker. An Autobot. All he has to do is walk over. Ask if you want to get out of here. Go somewhere with him. You’re still smiling when your head turns, eyes meeting his optics like you could feel his stare and his knees feel weak. Watching you touch the other person’s arm, before you’re walking his way.
• Head tipping back to look up at your massive guardian, he crouches slightly and reaches for you. But stops short of actually touching you. And you know him well enough that you’re used to this. To him thinking he needs permission to touch you every single time. Reaching out to grip one of his massive, blunt servos, you tug. “Let’s go do something,” you say and his optics widen. ‘Right now? I mean, sure,’ he agrees, looking around. And you know he’s checking to see what time it is, finding the sad, dollar store clock one of the other human residents had duct taped to the catwalk out of frustration.
• “We can be back before school lets out,” you add and he smiles sheepishly. “Or we could pick up Miko together?” You ask and he hesitates. Wants you and his charge to get along. Be friends. ‘You don’t mind?’ He asks, knowing he’ll still go pickup Miko after school regardless. That he can’t disappoint her and leave her waiting for him. “Why would I? You’re a good dad,” you say, letting go of his servo and striding away. Servos flexing and missing the feel of your hands on him, he follows. Dad?
• Glancing over your shoulder at him as he frowns slightly, you give in to the urge to mess with him. “Plus, DILFs are hot,” you say knowing he won’t get the human term. That a lot of what you and the other humans say doesn’t translate and only confuses the Autobots. ‘And that’s a good thing?’ He asks and you wonder what’s confusing him the most, the acronym or saying he’s hot. “It is,” you confirm without explaining anything. ‘I thought cool was the good one, though?’ He mutters and you’re fighting the urge to laugh.
• “You can be cool and hot at the same time,” you reassure him over your shoulder as you step through the hologram into the oppressive desert heat and he’s more confused than ever as he follows. Has the sense that you’re teasing him, but he can’t figure out the joke. Fowler uses weird acronyms occasionally, but he’s not sure if that’s what DILF is or if it’s just a term he’s not encountered. He’s almost certain humans just make things up as they go a lot of the time, too. ‘You’re not going to explain DILF to me, are you?’ He asks tiredly and you laugh, the sound spilling into him to leave him warm. “No and don’t ask the kids unless you want to traumatize them,” you say. ‘But you just said it was a good thing,’ he mumbles, mystified as he transforms and opens his door for you to climb in.
Hm, how about headcanons for tfp Arcee, Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead raising young bots post-war?
Im glad you have returned as well, with this being my first post (after taking a break and working out my life) im gonna try my best and make stories with request long and full of content. I hope you enjoy this.
Pairing: Arcee/Bulkhead/UltraMagnus with young bots.
Warning: N/A
Transformers prime x small bots
It was just a normal day at the base. The bots where either chilling with the kids, taking a nap, or playing some games. When all of a sudden, Ratchet calls out for optimus. Turns out, a escaped pod of some kind is entering earths atmosphere and the crash course is nearby. With that knews, Optimus sent Arcee, Bulkhead, and UltraMagnus to go check it out. They were not expecting what they will field inside of the escape pod.
Arcee
Arcee drives and sees the trail of smoke through the sky and to the escape pod in the distance. Bulkhead and UltraMagnus still a bit away behind her. She speeds up and transform. She pulls her blasters out and cautiously walks to the pod. She opens it and freezes. Inside was 2 sparklings. They look up at her and turn their heads. "Carrier?" Arcee looks down stunned before sighing "scrap."
Arcee sighs and picks up both sparklings.
They coo and look up to her.
When bulkhead and UltraMagnus arrived, they were surpised by what arcee was holding.
On the way back, the sparklings cried when separated feom Arcee.
So, she had to ride in the trailer on UltraMagnus with the sparklings for them to calm down.
When they arrive at base, Ratchet hearing the news, takes the sparklings and checks them over.
While doing so, he realized somthing...they have bonded with arcee.
With the knews, Arcee was less than happy but she accepted them.
Raising 2 sparklings was hard for her, she dodent know what to do or what to do.
With the war going and now her being a carrier, this was alot.
Arcee was sitting on her berth, watching the 2 sparklings play on the ground. While watching, she sighs. Knowing if cliff was here, he would spoil them. Seeing their carrier sad, they crawl over and hugs her legs. Arcee smalls softly and picks them up. "Thank you."
Bulkhead
Bulkhead was sent ahead to check out the pod while arcee and UltraMagnus check around the area. Bulkhead transforms and takes out his wrecking balls. He slowly moves to the pod and rips it open. Inside was a sparkling. They look up at him when he teared the door away and starts to cry. "Oh...oh no.."
Bulkhead was never good with sparklings
Hell, he is not even good with the human kids.
He tries to Shush the crying sparjling and picks them up.
He shushed them and tried to rock them.
That dident work, so he tried other options like sining, that seemed to make them cry more...fair.
He decided to take a large jump and starts to play some heavy metal he likes on low volume and is surpised by the sparkling quitting down and looking up at him.
When arcee and UltraMagnus arrived, they are surpised by what meets them.
They head back to base, Bulkhead driving slow and the most carful he has ever been.
When in base, Ratchet checks them over and finds that they are fine.
They learn, the sparkling always cried when bulkhead left their sight, so, bulkhead became a sire.
Bulkhead was watching his little sparkling laying in his arms, heavy metal music playing softly like a lullaby. He gently rocks them. "You are one wierd kid...but my kid...my sparkling."
UltraMagnus
UltraMagnus heads to the pod while he ordered Arcee and Bulkhead to scout around the area. When close enough, he transforms and heads to the pod. Turning a servo into a plaster, he rips the door open and points the blaster inside. What meets him is somthing he would have never guessed. A little sparkling, looking up at him and his blaster. The sparkling giggles, not realizing how close to death they where. UltraMagnus turns his head to the side. "Strange."
UltraMagnus only watches.
He turns to arcee and bulkhead when they arrive and gasped at seeing the sparkling.
Arcee is first to pick them up and coos at it.
They decided to head back to base.
Once there, Ratchet takes them and checks then over.
Once the clear, they welcome the sparkling.
They noticed, the sparkling never laughed.
No matter how hard the bots or kids try, they never laughed.
Intel one day, UltraMagnus was in the same room with the sparkling, looking down at it.
He turns tk Wheeljack who walks in beaten up.
When UltraMagnus lectures the bot, he hears the sparkling finally laughing.
He never understood what this little sparkling deal. He laughed at him being a leader? Plus, now he is tasked with raising this sparkling. He dident like it, he was a general, not a baby sitter. He looks down at the sparkling in his arms and they look at him back. He feels his wall softing and sighs. This sparkling will break his walls.
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A sort of vent fic where Bulkhead comforts reader.
Mentions of previous trauma, mentions of emotional abuse by a father, mentions of suicidal ideation, reader has PTSD around male anger
“I hate men.”
Bulkhead turned his helm to you confused but slightly amused at your tiny scowl. “What’s all this about, sweetie?” He heavy voice rumbled as he put his servo out for you to climb on. You seemed to hesitate standing there staring at his palm before shakily climbing into his grip. Bulkhead gently brought you to his chasis to stabilize and protect you as he made his way to his berth. Battle worn joints creaked as he got comfy on his recharging slab.
“Now what’s got you all worked up?”
“I hate men. I fucking hate men,” you could feel the tears start to sting the back of your throat. “All they do is yell and get angry and throw stuff.”
Bulkhead listened with his brow ridge furrowed.
“I hate men,” you choke with a sniffle.
“You’re being a little vague there, shortie,” Bulkhead said gently. “Tell me what happened.”
You grabbed your forehead fingers digging into your hairline. You were there again, a child, being screamed at by your father that you’ll never be good enough. All men start to sound the same when they’re angry. All men start to look the same when they’re angry. All your failings and faults bubble to the surface like a billboard for ridicule.
“Hey,” Bulkhead said softly trying to pry your hands off your face with his large digit. “Hey don’t go doin’ that now.”
You gnashed your teeth as everything surfaced. Dumbest fucking failure to have the misfortune to spawn on this earth. You wanted to dig your nails into your hairline and pull down ripping away that stupid face you’re forced to wear.
Bulkhead finally was able to nudge your hands away from your face and pin them between his digits. You froze the tears streaming down your face as the day kept playing in your head. Dumbest fucking failure alive.
“C’mon,” Bulkhead nudged trying to get your attention back on him. “What happened?”
You sniffed as the tears strangled you. You throat was like a vice trying to close in and grip itself. “My boss,” you choked. “I did something wrong but he didn’t know it was me but he knew someone did something wrong and he got angry and yelled and threw stuff.” You jerked a little trying to thrash out of Bulkhead’s grip so you could hit and scratch at your face.
“I hate men!” You sobbed. “I wish they were all gone! I wish I was gone.”
You were jerked out of your sobbing as Bulkhead scrambled to bring you close to his faceplate. “Don’t say that!” You wanted to hurt yourself for causing the panic in his voice. “Your human lives are already so short don’t make it even shorter.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled as you wrung your now freed hands. “I’m sorry.”
Bulkhead let out a deep exvent. You felt the air from his frame brush over you like wind. “Hey,” he started rumbling voice filled with concern and affection. “I’m not real good with words and all but it sounds like your boss is kind of an aft.”
You chuckled a little between sobs.
“I don’t think bosses should go around throwing stuff,” Bulkhead said. “Even if you did mess up that’s not really a good way to act.”
You clung to Bulkhead’s servo like a baby koala trying to keep his giant form as close to you as possible. You smushed your tear stained face into the metal of his servo trying to both hide from the world and crawl inside of Bulkhead’s frame.
“I got you, little thing,” Bulkhead comforted. “You’re okay.”
I'm loving everything about the Clingly series especially the last one.
And honestly, I also would roll up in mine blanket and scream if that were to happen. Regardless which bot they were.
If you have the time, I'd love to see a Clingly tfa among them.
Pretty, pretty, pretty please???
Hope you have nice day ( ＾▽＾)
Sure! I probably would burrito and hide, too honestly. Clingy will likely get its own Masterlist as some point, I just have to motivate myself to work on the lists and try to organize them better
Clingy
TFA Bulkhead x Reader
• Hears laughter and Bulkhead’s head turns from where he’d been tinkering with a paint set Sari had brought him. Unable not to look when he hears voice, your laughter. And he glances back at his canvas, shifting slightly to hide it with his frame. Still feels weird to be allowed to create, to not have anyone laughing at him or saying that mechs like him aren’t allowed to pursue things like this. To be artists. But here on earth, he feels like he can dream. Though having you see his work is a whole new source of anxiety. But he can want more than to just be a space bridge mechanic here with you. “Hey, Bulk,” you say, lifting a hand.
• Smiling as he lifts his own big hand in greeting, a ridiculously, tiny paintbrush pinched between his big servos, you remember stretching out against him watching a movie last night as Ratchet had complained about humans not being able to do any of what the action flick was trying to make them believe was possible. Bulkhead had kept brushing the back of a servo against your pinky finger, avoiding your eyes as he’d done it, but you’re pretty sure he’d wanted to hold your hand and you have no idea what to make of that. But he’s definitely a lot sweeter than anyone you’ve dated in a long time. Like the big mech, but you’re not sure that it can really go anywhere no matter the turn some of your daydreams have started taking lately.
• “Have a good time?” He asks and you dig a little box out of a bag, opening it with a grin and he leans to looks. Are those cookies? Weird looking, decadently decorative cookies? You have to know Sari is going to eat most of them as soon as she finds them. Venting to pull in the sweet scent, he fumbles and nearly drops his paintbrush when the smell of you fills his head with the cookies. Knees feel weak as that shift in your scent spills into him and it’s so much sweeter than the smell of the cookies. So much more enticing.
• Watching his plating flare slightly as his mouth hangs open, you smile faintly. “You okay, big guy? Hello? Earth to Bulkhead.” And he makes a funny noise you’ve never heard from him before. Is something actually wrong with him? ‘Hi,’ he manages, mouth still slightly open as he stares at you and drops his brush to splatter paint everywhere. When he makes no move to grab or even seem to notice, you move closer and bend to pick it up.
• Lowering his head to vent against your hair, you startle and he flinches guiltily. Even as he pulls air in through his vents again, that scent almost maddening. Unable to resist. And it makes it hard to focus on anything else as you frown up at him. “You’re not getting sick or something are you?” You ask and he almost groans when Ratchet laughs. Hadn’t even realized the older mech had wandered into the room. ‘He’s definitely sick, alright,’ Ratchet mutters and his plating flares higher, shoulders hunching. Staring a hole in the medic and pleading with his optics for him to shut up.
