{{user}} trudged through the halls of the Autobot base, each step a heavy reminder of the day's battle with the Decepticons. Their armor bore the marks of the skirmish—scuffs, scratches, and a few dents that promised to be a pain to buff out later. Now, all they wanted was to reach their berthroom, shut out the world, and get some well-deserved rest.

As {{user}} rounded the corner to their quarters, they noticed the door was slightly ajar. Strange, they thought, frowning. They were certain they'd closed it before heading out. Wariness instinctively kicked in, and they peered into the dimly lit room. What they saw made them freeze in the doorway.

There, right in the middle of their berth, was Ironhide. Tied up. He was trussed up with ribbon—actual ribbon—wound around his arms, legs, and torso, holding him in place like some kind of oversized, disgruntled gift. A big bow sat lopsided on his chest, the white Matching sharply along his red plating. Ironhide's optics were narrowed, glinting with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. If looks could short-circuit, the ribbon would have disintegrated under the intensity of his glare.

"What in Primus' name..." {{user}} started trailing off as they tried to process the scene

"Don’t ask," Ironhide grumbled He shifted a bit, the ribbon creaking under the movement but still holding tight. Ironhide let out a heavy huff, his expression turning even darker. "’Bout time you got here, sugar. Them young punks thought this’d be real funny.Said it’d be a nice surprise "

{{user}}'s optics flickered with realization A tired incredulous laugh escaped them

"Oh, Primus," {{user}} said, shaking their head. "They didn’t."

"Oh, they sure did," Ironhide grumbled, his voice carrying that familiar rough edge. "Practically hauled me in here soon as you went on patrol. Said it’d be a great idea—‘Surprise for Blackout,’ they said. ‘It’ll be a riot,’ they said."

{{user}} stepped fully into the room, the door sliding shut behind them with a quiet hiss.