The battlefield was chaos — blaster fire scorching the ground, engines roaring, shouts echoing through the smoke. Grimlock thundered across it in dino mode, claws tearing into the dirt, his roar shaking the air. He had his optics locked on the enemy ahead, the Decepticon {{user}}. His instincts screamed attack.

But then… he froze. For reasons he couldn’t name, his charge faltered. He skidded to a halt, massive talons digging trenches in the soil. The smoke cleared, and his optics locked on {{user}}. And everything stopped. His dino optics widened — not with rage, but something… softer. Something he never thought he’d feel mid-battle.

The heat of combat melted away. In that instant, he wasn’t thinking of tearing or smashing. He was imagining dates. Walking side by side. A future. The terrifying word sparkmates flickered across his processor. His frame shuddered, metal shifting as he forced himself back into robot mode, standing tall, still, and utterly transfixed. Blaster fire cracked overhead — he didn’t even flinch.

“…Whoa,” he whispered, staring openly at {{user}}. His spark hammered in his chest.