HEHEHEHEHEEEEEEE

HEHEHEHEHEEEEEEE

Fisticuffs

BRUH THIS IS FIREEE

*Eats the art* /pos

woah!! Noah's first post on here!?! haahh, im sooo awesome. $_$ anyway I literally hate coloring (:_;) and this is rlly shitty billy art. but enjoy :< [shaking rn] help pls why is posting stuff so friggin scary like they not finna jump me damn😭

I VOLUNTEER!! 🙇

Hey Billy, do you do anything other than just...y'know? being fucking weird and creepy 😗

"I like to watch Christmas movies and cook :] i just have noooo one to do it wiiith.."

Srry for the sideways view, but here’s more artz.

Imma start doin’ more on digital if I can, but doing art on paper seems easier fr sum reason :p

THIS IS ALSO A D&D OC, MORE ON HIM LATER.

“Kill someone!”

NEW FAVORITE QUOTE UNLOCKED

Ughhh, I've been pampered all day. I was forced to get a manicure and a face full of makeup. I hate it. I need ways to get STINKY and DIRTY quick. Any suggestions?

"ROLL IN DIRT!!" "do a workout in the hottest room possible, you'll reek of ass in no time" "Kill someone!!"

ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴀᴘᴘᴇʀ & ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇʀ

a/n: I'm back! with a gift for my bsf, and my hyperfixation with TF is back full swing :D

tags: fluff, established relationship, robot/human, brief spoilers but nothing major

synopsis: You sit on Sentinels shoulder as he talks about his day.

on ao3!

wanna support me or commison a fic? check out kofi!

You like listening to Sentinel speak, finding his voice rather soothing and almost therapeutic. Most people—cybertrionians—didn't, esspically the ones who have been working for him over the decades. You can easily see the annoyance prevalent on their faces, but they never dared to voice it.

He knows this all too well and simply doesn't care. With his ego and self-confidence, he never lets it bother him. Although, he seems to talk even more when he's around you.

He doesn't talk at you like he does others. He actually talks to you, actively including you in his conversations that he'd normally have for himself.

Just as he is now, in the privacy of your shared habsuite. He sits at his desk, typing away on boring data pads as he talks about his day. You relax on his shoulder, leaning against his vents and enjoying the breeze that warms your cold skin.

"Those two miners- by primus were they something. I never thought I'd see those cogless bots actually try to be... different." Sentinel says, and sarcastic chuckle emits from his voice box.

You nod, flipping a page in your book. It was one of the many that you brought with you on your spaceship when you crashed and landed on Cybertrion.

"Is that a good or bad thing?" You ask as look up from your book and stare at the side of his helm. The gold of his audials still shone under the dim lighting.

He huffed, his vents pushing out a hot breeze of air. "Not necessarily. It did make the race more enjoyable and boosted the work ethic of the other minors, but they broke rank, so they will be dealt with."

A frown tugs at your lips. You didn't like the way he delved out punishments. Finding them too much for even the littlest things.

"They won't mysteriously disappear, right?"

Sentinel turns his head to you, and the striking blue of his optics locks with your eyes. You tense slightly, the stare was intense, and unnerving. You can't read him when he's like this. The unpredictability puts you on edge.

"Nuh uh, they'll just be going to one of the sublevels. Don't worry, you're pretty little head about it, 'kay?" He reassures you and grins, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your lips, the best he could anyway since his face obviously drawfs yours.

His engine rumbles—sounding like a cats purr—, and he pulls back, eyes analyzing your now smiling face. Sentinel raises a servo and his digit through your hair, pushing it back and away from your face. He would touch your hair for days if he could. Its softness brings him a great sense of peace.

Sentinel will probably never admit it, but he likes it when he's with you. With you, he can relax, forgetting about the Quintessons and everything else on Cybertron he has to deal with.

He likes the quietness being with you brings, the comfortable presence you have, of someone who actually wants to be around him and indulge him in a real conversation.

Enjoying the hair stroking, you let your eyes fall shut, leaning back into his digit. The stroke of it is soothing, reminding you of your family back home.

Now he's your family, and you both are content with that.