#Cheeky Answers

[canisalbus]

modern AU: Machete being driven to a medical appointment (he's just a bit too jumpy to drive): driver: "Why does Vasco call you babygirl?" Machete: "How about we stop talking for a little while?"

Ludovica, an old friend of Vasco's, offering to drive Machete to his appointment after his plans don't work out and it's the first time it's just the two of them alone in an enclosed space.

[ghostaholics]

I am LIVING for your jealous/possessive enemies with benefits ghost. He sees reader being a little too friendly with another man and goes FERAL. Nobody knows why. Not even him.

❝ 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋. ❞ Fucks your throat raw, likes seeing your lips stretched around his cock, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth and trickling down your chin as you struggle to take all of him in, just a little messy; the way you allow your muscles to go slightly lax to deep-throat him, but it’s still so goddamn tight. And you spoil him with your mouth, gently sucking at the head and tonguing the entirety of him, even better when you add your palm too, can’t quite wrap your fingers around his cock but it’s hot and slippery and all that matters is you’re trying your best. His hand is threaded through your hair, close to the scalp, close to the roots and flexing hard when you swallow him to the hilt – loves that this lets him control your movements. From the expression on your face, this fucked-out, glazed-over look, he can tell that you’re enjoying it more than he is; gets his point proven when you snake your fingers down between your legs to play with your clit because you just can’t help yourself. (❝ What would all of ‘em think if they saw you on your knees for me, huh, sweetheart? ❞) And there’s something really satisfying to him hearing how utterly wrecked your voice is the next day when you sound hoarse trying to talk to other people.

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇. ❞ He has you facing the mirror, sitting reverse on his lap with your legs wrenched apart – forces you to pay attention to how his cock’s got you split open like this, the easiest way for him to work himself inside your cunt. He’s got one hand on your hip, guiding you up and down just how you need him at a rough and steady rate. His other hand spans over your jaw, your throat; directing you to look at your reflection and how it’s him that’s ruining you – your wet and sticky slickness soaking his cock. He wants you to see what he sees: you, taking him so well, everything that he offers. (❝ No. Eyes open. Gotta remind you who’s the only one that can turn you into such a fucking mess like this, yeah? ❞)

❝ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓. ❞ He mutters it under his breath, has a hand over your mouth to stifle your noises – Jesus Christ, you’re so goddamn loud; in the blackness of the supply closet where he’s got you, back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist (❝ Just a quick fuck, c’mon. I know you’re aching for it. ❞) – only needs five minutes to get you off. And when you’re groaning too fucking much while he pounds into your cunt, Ghost tells himself that he doesn’t want to be caught dead with you like this. You don’t either, of course, considering the mutual feelings of animosity shared between the two of you. So it’s a low growl, a warning from him: ❝ If you don’t shut up, they’re gonna hear us— ❞ But the idea only rips another long moan from your throat. And when he sees how much you might actually want that, for somebody to walk by and figure out that you’re getting stuffed full of his cock, it makes him fuck you even harder just to test how good you can keep quiet for him.

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔!𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 || 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

banner credit by cafekitsune

[omaano]

K2 for echorexfives? 👀

Rex would like a refund on his ARCs. Or a nap. Either is fine.

Just imagine for the second one that Rex is on an official holo call or something XD

Help me get back into sketching through some of these polyam/platonic pose prompts :3 (I'm still slowly doing these, they help powering through this little artistic crisis I'm suffering rn)

[baggy-holmes]

Requesting a final ass picture for 2023 pleaseeeee

with 15 minutes left to spare ;)

[linkito]

scarian 34 maybe.. but theyre in love..

#34 …to pretend.

Scar’s honestly not sure what Scott is on about with his whole Relationship Ranch thing. He’s not as obtuse as Grian is about it, pretending like their relationship isn’t mangled and strained, like the idea of couple’s therapy is entirely unfounded for the two of them, but— the goats? Really? Even at their worst, he and Grian aren’t stupid enough to get hit by a goat.

Even at their worst, they’re still a team. None of these trust-building activities are of any use to them.

The only reason Scar is going along with it at all is because of Scott. Scott who might know the most about the ins and outs of his and Grian’s complex relationship throughout these life games. But he’s beginning to have his doubts. Scott seems distracted.

Grian seems to have the same idea, because this time he calls Scott out when he pulls out his communicator for about the dozenth time. “Who do you keep talking to?”

Scar instantly dogpiles onto the accusations. “Are we not important enough for your undivided attention, doc?”

“No, you’re very important!” Scott protests, stuffing his communicator away. Scar narrows his eyes in tandem with Grian.

“Maybe he realizes we don't need this after all, G,” Scar says with a shake of his head, eyes flicking upward to watch for Scott’s reaction. As expected, Scott twitches nervously and immediately begins to wave his hands in placating disagreement.

But Grian speaks before Scott can. “Yeah, we’ve passed all your little tests, so what are you on about anyway?” With a disgruntled huff, Grian slots in beside Scar and crosses his arms, looking Scott up and down with the same level of scrutiny. “Scar and I are fine.”

It almost feels true when Grian is leaning into Scar’s space like this, taking his side like they have a common enemy, playing up the charade as much as Scar is to push at someone else’s buttons. On that rare occasion they’re on the same page, things do actually seem fine.

That’s possibly the worst part of it all— the almost fine.

Scott takes a moment to compose himself, now on the defensive as he speaks slowly and calmly. Unfortunately for him, however, he chooses the wrong words:

“But back in the desert—“

Both of their faces sour instantly, for different reasons perhaps, but they can both agree on one thing: that those words do not belong on Scott’s tongue.

Grian is partway through muttering a bitter “that’s none of your business,” when Scar chimes in with a theatrical twirl of his hands and solemn shake of his head, stepping forward so Grian is behind him and doesn’t have to address the unfinished accusation.

“Oh, Scott, come on now,” Scar says with a twinkle in his eye, slipping on the mask of a man not-scorned in order to pry himself from this situation. “That was then and this is now! People change! Relationships change! That isn’t always a bad thing, is it?”

Scott blinks, trying to keep up with Scar’s rapid-fire string of almost nonsense. “Uh.”

“Exactly!” Scar says, as if it were an agreement. He turns to face Grian, but keeps his feet pointed toward Scott, ever the actor, never fully turning his back to his audience. “But we’re perfectly happy, aren’t we now, Grian?”

Scar loops an arm around Grian’s back, tugging him closer and lowering his face so it’s level with his soulmate’s, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His words pose a challenge, one Grian is intimately familiar. Scar rests his hand just beneath the base of Grian’s wings, where he used to hold onto when they embraced, when he would scoop Grian up into his arms and kiss him senseless while the scorching sun beat down on their necks. There’s that same level of firmness Grian had grown accustomed to paired with the gentle graze of fingers over his cheek from Scar’s other hand— that strong sense of security combined with unparalleled tenderness.

Grian doesn’t even realize he’s parted his lips, leaning forward in dizzying anticipation, acting on instinct alone, leaving all his senseless doubts behind as Scar slowly leans in closer, lips only a breath apart.

Scar’s hand trails over Grian’s cheek, ghosting over his jaw, then settling perfectly in place to hide both their lips from Scott’s prying eyes.

And then Scar smiles, and something about it is askew, something Grian can’t quite place— it’s too crooked, almost self-satisfied, almost—

And just like that, Scar pulls away.

“See?” Scar says, eyes flicking over to Scott, who, according to Grian’s short-circuiting brain, no longer existed at all. “Perfectly happy.”

It takes Grian far too long to realize those words were directed at someone else, or that there was not, in fact, sand at his feet and hot air brushing through his feathers. Scar is still speaking, and none of it is directed at him, because they aren’t alone atop a mountain of sand, in their own private corner of the world. They’re in a new game entirely, one where things are far too similar, yet not the same at all.

One where he definitely didn’t expect Scar to kiss him for real.

One where he definitely wouldn’t have let him.

“Grian,” Scar calls, snapping him out of his dazed state, and Grian hopes to god he doesn’t look too desperate when he glances up at him. “I’m pretty sure the rest of the server is tearing up our base looking for sugar cane.”

“They’re what??”

[captain-rickbond]

Hey, I absolutely love your art and makes me happy that you follow me (gessleingraphics) was wondering if you could try "angel and devil humphrey" from s5. I love how you draw larry 😊

thank you so much 💜 @geekstuffkittykat your art is cool and I love your use of colours!

devil Humphrey? I have no idea what you're talking about, he's the prettiest and gooooodest boy...

...maybe a bit cheeky and tends to have some weird-ass ideas, and sometimes he's just a bit rude and- okay, he's evil

[sophsun1]

Queer As Folk – 1.19: Good Grief!

[strangersteddierthings]

No Regrets - Part Two

TW: OC Character Death (dude doesn't even get a name). Steve reflects on killing both demo-creatures and humans with detachment. Mentions of Major Character Deaths but as a reminder, they don't stay dead! (Well, Chrissy and Fred do)

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Maybe he should feel bad about watching Robin grow smaller in the rear-view mirror, her face a mixture of disbelief and anger. Maybe he should feel regret for his actions, for the betrayal Robin probably feels right now.

He doesn't.

Looking at the bigger picture, at the regrets he actually does have in the waking world, this is small potatoes. A non-issue. Robin will forgive him in the end.

War Zone is like a ghost town compared to the first time Steve was here. Though, that should have been expected. The panic hasn't swept through town yet. So far, it's just one dead girl. Fred'll join her sometime this afternoon. Evening? Sometime later today.

Nineteen-year-old Steve would hate himself for not trying to help. For not doing his best to save Fred.

But.

Well, Fred dying will help Dustin, in the long run. Will help Eddie. And that's more important. That's the goal. The dream, if he's allowing himself to be cheeky in his own mind.

Steve's not heartless, or anything like that. Robin, his Robin in the waking world, still calls him a softy and worries his kindness will get him killed on the daily. He always puts the safety of the group above himself. The first to volunteer on supply runs or for scouting or taking watch through the night. He knows he can run on empty for much longer than anyone else he knows.

The end of the world has a way of skewing what kindness and softness are, though. Those first few months were the hardest. Steve wanted to save everyone they came across. Help as many people as possible, but rations run dangerously low that way. Clean water can become contaminated quickly by ignorant people. Not everyone handled the apocalypse with grace.

The first harsh lesson Steve had learned was two months into the end of the world. They'd ventured to Indy to find supplies. Medicines. Try and stock up on things they didn't need yet but wanted around for the just in case of it all. They'd found some survivors, which wasn't surprising in itself. The surprising bit was that these guys had made it on complete luck it seemed. They were loud. Jumpy. Panicky.

When Lucas and Mike, on scout duty, had reported back demogorgon activities nearby, one guy started to panic. Got loud and couldn't bring himself back down. Steve was closest, tried to shush him but he wouldn't be quiet.

"Move," Murray (may he rest in peace) whispered, seeming to have appeared from nowhere, shoving Steve away, nudging him out of the way. Murray stepped behind the guy, one hand covering his nose and mouth, the other arm around his neck. It made the guy panic more, fighting Murray and then Murray just-

Steve remembers he flinched at the noise, turning away to cover his mouth and calm his own panic. The noises stopped though. Steve had shot a horrified look to Hopper, but Hopper wasn't looking at Steve. He was looking beyond, at Murray and what he'd done, nodding his approval.

The demogorgons didn't find them that day.

"You can't help everyone, Steve," Murray said, once they'd started the trek back to Hawkins. "The safety of the group comes first, over just one person."

Lesson heard. Lesson learned. Lesson put to use four months later.

So. Fred must die, for the good of the group. Patrick, too, if Steve can't get to Vecna in time. He should be able to. Vecna will try and take Max first, tomorrow. Patrick the day after. If everything stays the same.

The clerk doesn't even blink at what Steve buys, or the quantity of what he buys, but his eyebrows do go up a little at the total.

Steve hesitates just a bit over the checkbook his parents gave him the first time they'd left him home alone at fourteen. For emergencies only, Steven. It's been sitting in his glove box, unused, since he turned sixteen. He's never wanted to have to explain what he'd used it for. Nothing had ever seemed like enough of an emergency to warrant explaining it to Richard Harrington.

He does find it a little odd that his mind is conjuring up the concept of money. Of all the little things to think about while he sleeps, he really didn't think his subconscious would bring capitalism back.

Steve rips the little check out of the booklet and hands it over. The clerk looks it over before giving a nod and finishing the cash out. Steve takes the receipt when it's offered, shoving it into the checkbook before shoving that into his back pocket.

The parking lot has one other person in it, who Steve is aware of the entire time he's loading the trunk of his car with gallons of lighter fluid, weapons, and padded camouflage. It's only after Steve's slammed the trunk closed and shoved the cart back towards the front of the store that the guy watching him speaks.

"Must be some bonfire you're planning."

Steve rounds his car and opens the door before answering. "It's spring break, man." He slides in, the door falling closed after him. He buckles up, starts the car, and heads home. The house will be empty, he knows.

He works in silence, unloading the car and organizing his haul in the dining room, eyes flicking to the clock. There's still a couple of hours before dark. Before he should go check if Eddie's still in the boathouse, or if the police did go find him.

He sets the timer on the stove for an hour and flops onto his couch and sighs. Just as comfy as he remembers. He can have a nap before making sure Eddie's in jail. Surely his dream will allow him that?

-

"Mmhm," Steve mumbles as his neck protests movement. He's slow to wake. His head feels like white noise. He thinks he was dreaming but he can't quite grasp at what it was... oh. Family Video and War Zone. Reliving a memory. He wonders if Robin is still mad at him for that day, ditching her with Dustin and Max. It'd been for a good reason and- Steve wrinkles his nose as he sits up, head still static-y. Was it for a good reason? He can't remember what else happened after that....

"He rises," Robin whispers next to him, spooking him. She comes into focus as he sits up straight, leaning out of her space to look at her. She gives him a smile, judging by the crinkle around her eyes and her cheeks rounding. The gas mask prevents him seeing her real smile and he misses it. He thinks about his dream, and getting to see all of Robin's face again.

Dreaming is bittersweet.

"I miss anything?" He asks, because it's a safe question.

"Scouts radioed. The way should be clear in another," Robin grabs his wrist and twists so she can see the time on his watch, "another twenty minutes or so."

The mention of the radio makes him think of Dustin, and how much he misses him. And thinking of Dustin makes him think of Eddie. Steve knows it's irrational for him to miss someone he never knew but that doesn't stop the ache. The almost of it all sits heavy in his chest.

"Right," Steve says. "Want to see how many rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors we can get through in twenty minutes?"

Robin shuffles sideways to be facing him and holds her hands up. "You always lose but okay."

They get about twelve rounds into it before Steve finds himself asking, "Hey Robbie. Do you remember Spring Break?"

Her hands freeze in the air, an aborted motion to make paper to beat Steve's rock. She locks eyes with him for a moment and he can see the worry there. "I- Steve. Is it- did you take a hit? Is it your head? Should I not have let you nap?"

No. No, he doesn't think he got hurt on this run. Well, his shoulder hurts from when he stumbled and slammed into wall during the last loading of the truck, but he hadn't hit his head. He thinks. "I don't know... I hit the wall hard, shoulder hurts, but I didn't hit my head. I don't remember hitting my head."

Robin stands immediately and begins jabbing her fingers around his skull. "Anything tender?"

"Nope. Just a messed up hairdo," Steve swats her hands away.

"Well, you can never be too sure. You are precious cargo. Why did you ask about the start of the apocalypse?"

Steve shrugs. What can he say? That he's forgetting the start of all their horrors? He can't say that, not without coming across like he's either crazy or bragging. Remember the week that ruined our lives and gave us all enough trauma to fill an ocean? Yeah, well, I don't so ha!

He can't be sure but he thinks Robin frowns beneath her mask. "We'll have to have someone look you over when we get back. Steve, if you're losing your memories..."

"I'm not losing memories," Steve lies. Head trauma is serious and he knows he can't take one more hit to the head. He won't be able to continue helping with supply runs or patrols if he is getting worse. If he starts getting migraines, they'll reassign him for sure. Something that doesn't let him leave the safety of their home base at the high school.

"Steve," she warns. He knows it's a warning.

He shakes his head. "I just. I had a dream about Saturday. Very vivid. Just made me think about it, is all."

Robin softens, sinking back down to sit beside him. She finally answers, "yeah. I remember Spring Break."

"I miss everyone," he confesses, because it's true. Because it's safe.

"Me too," Robin says, leaning her mask against his.

They wait in silence until the scouts call the all clear and they can head back home.

They make it back to Hawkins before night falls but just barely. The gates get rolled shut behind them and the unpacking gets started. The whole community has gathered for their return. This is their longest run to date with how far they had to go this time and Steve doesn't blame anyone for needing to see their loved ones as soon as possible.

"Robin!"

Steve turns just in time to watch Vickie launch herself at Robin. Robin must have seen her running, though, because she's already braced for impact and catches Vickie easily, arms grabbing at Vickie's thighs to support her weight as she wraps them around Robin's waist. Vickie places her forehead to Robin's as their excitement switches to tenderness and Steve averts his eyes to give them privacy in this moment.

"Steve, here," Ted Wheeler offers up a box to Steve, who takes it without question. "For the Daycare."

"You got it."

The Daycare is actually a wing of the school that used to be where the language arts classes were held. Daycare doesn't quite sum up what they use the area for, but calling it the Orphanage was too dark. Steve waits through the decontamination process. Once through, he takes the time to pull his mask off and enjoy the feeling of an artificial breeze on his face before heading to the Daycare.

"Please tell me there's something useful in that box," Annie Click says when Steve pushes his way into one of the rooms they use for school. Another room is dedicated to being a daycare, kids too little for learning, another is schooling for kids who would be in middle school, and the last room is lines with beds.

"Sorry, Mrs. Click, but I didn't pack it," Steve says apologetically.

"My problem to sort out then," she stands and Steve can see the determination in her through the weariness. She'd been a bitter old lady as his teacher but the world ending must have shifted her priorities. There's no one better suited to look after the kids than her, here.

Except maybe Joyce, but she's got bigger things to deal with.

He heads for the door when Annie calls out to him, "Since you're here, would you mind checking on the kids for me? Holly's supervising bedtime but she's lenient with her friends."

"Will do."

He heads across the hall and down a door to the sleeping room. The lights are dimmed and peeking in he sees a lot of kids sleeping, or pretending their best to be. Holly is sitting in a rolling chair near the door, one leg bend and pulled up on the seat as she rests her head on it.

Steve clears his throat to get her attention. She must have heard his footsteps because she doesn't spook. Just uses the foot on the ground to spin the chair to face the door. "Oh. Hi Steve."

"All good here?" He whispers.

"Yeah. Everyone's asleep."

"You can probably head home now. Your dad's back."

Holly shrugs one shoulder at him, spinning the chair back away. "Maybe later."

Steve takes the hint and backs away. His chest aches for Holly. All the kids had to grow up fast, given the state of the world, but Holly's hurts him most. He knew her in the Before, and she was there when Karen... Well, she's got a lot of weight on her shoulders at barely eleven years old.

To think. If they'd have been faster on that Spring Break. More diligent, thorough. Holly might have never known about the Upside Down at all.

More regret he can carry, he thinks, as he shoves his mask back on and heads back to the truck. There's more to be unloaded, and always work around to keep him so busy he doesn't have to think of the regrets.

He works so late into the night that once he gets back to his cot and collapses into it, there are no thoughts let in his mind as sleep claims him.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @music9009 @apomaro-mellow @soaringornithopter @reighnofdreams @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @sirsnacksalot @livelifeliketheresnotomorow @sageclipse @schnukiputz @mbloggotdeletedsothisismybackup @lumoschildextra @juleswashere3 @yet-still-more-banched @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @yearningagain @starlight-archer @andrew-mini-ard @chaosgremlinmunson @aol19 @goodolefashionedloverboi @gutterflower77 @moomkin77

[saintsenara]

every time i think about ginny in CoS i get unbelievably sad, but also it's so fucking funny when you think about her yapping to Tom...they were #real haters since day 1

the idea that they were sincerely bffs can be pried from my cold, dead hands.

for the serious point that he must select as victims of the basilisk people she's been gabbing about, as a way of terrifying and gaslighting her about whether she's responsible for the attacks - you just know she had a lot to say about what a prick she thought colin was and he was sitting in the ether [or wherever a soul lives] kicking his little feet in the air and saying "so true, bestie. amateur photography is cringe. hopefully nothing terrible happens to him!"

and for the less serious points that:

a. only the sort of theatrical teen edgelord who spent months coming up with an anagram of his own name could have written that valentine's poem.

b. the plan to lure harry to the chamber of secrets is really giving the way you used to ask out your crush when you were in year eight.

either tmr ships hinny [the horcrux is the chest monster! dean, you're in danger, girl!] and said "ok, let's get him down here and i'll gas you up", to which ginny replied "sick, i'll play dead so if he says no i can pretend i didn't realise you asked" or ginny ships tomarry and she said "i'll just chill unobtrusively while you impress him with your giant snake" and he said "class, do you reckon i should imply he's talentless and mid* while i do it?" and she said "yeah, one hundo" [omg snake!].

* “Well,” said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, “how is it that you — a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent — managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time?"

tom... hun...

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

slight spicey Finn his? PLZ I BEG

Slightly Spicy Finn

Sometimes he likes slightly messing with you, like dressing a bit provocative to get your attention on him.

He is shy but he knows hes hot, it's annoyingly good how hot he can make himself be when he puts his mind to it!

Since he moves around a lot making bouquets he uses this to put his hair up to distract you while unbuttoning his shirt a bit.

groans a little bit louder when your around complaining about the heat while giving you puppy dog eyes.

At one point he ended up taking his shirt off to reveal a tank top. flex's his back abit since he can feel your eyes on him.

uses his clumsiness to his advantage, bending over at the waist to get a flower her dropped or even getting on his knees and arching a bit to look for whatever fell under the table.

If working outside on the garden he drinks water a bit sloppy to where it gets all over his chest a bit.

Cheeky fucker also uses his shirt to wipe sweat off of his forehead.

When your super focused on something he likes to lean on your back and ask questions while breathing on your neck.

Is another one who likes to sit on your lap a bit, but not fully, he makes you pull him on your lap. Then he teases you saying you don't need to manhandle him (it's exactly what he wanted)

When you carry something heavy for him he touches your arm and complements your strength "Did you work out?" depending on your answer he would say "You could use me to work out~"

Says sexy shit and acts like he meant somethin else, like "Your hot? Oh sweetheart, I know you are. Huh? No I just said I know it's so hot!"

Even sometimes making you grab something for him he doesn't need. "Sunflower? Could you bend over and grab that for me? Yeah...it should be right there...God, your ass is so hot...Oh! You found it thank you! What was I looking at? Oh there is a little sticker on your butt!...Here let me get it for you!" he leaves a longing touch on your butt after getting the sticker off.

[coldflasher]

anyway, thanks to that moment in the sound and the fury where barry is standing around watching with blank frustration like "god i wish i'd taken a language in high school" while hartley verbally eviscerates both cisco and eowells in multiple languages, i now headcanon that len speaks a second language, mostly cos barry would find it really annoying

[satans-knitwear]

At the pub, I got asked twice where I bought my lingerie, bc the bodysuit I wore over it was the perfect tease.

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[baggy-holmes]

sorry for nothing cheeky lately - the mood has been cozy

[huh-1260]

Could I hold gremlin sky???? I promise I’ll give him some more of my magic if he lets me hold him! :D

He says he wants uppies

I sadly cannot give my weird son him uppies right now for he ate a pumpkin and my weak stick arms are no match for a full stomach gremlins weight

[ask-a-bot]

For megatron um well how is it dealing with your idiot commanders at times? How come like let's say for starscream whenever he betrays you, you still haven't disposed him? Also have you heard about the shipping going around like u with star scream and u won't prime? What is ur honest reaction to it all. Ty in the end for answering

Starscream is like a son to me so naturally, I... he is very quiet. Optimus, have you seen Starscream this morning?

He would not have been stupid enough to have gone flying without telling someone first, surely?

You know him better than me.

I thought we were making progress! Kup. Have you seen Starscream today?

No. I'll go check his room. He might be gaming or something.

Thank you. I hope so.

Bumblebee! Have you seen Starscream?

Not since last night. Maybe he's still asleep.

At this hour? Hot Rod! Have you seen Starscream?

No. His berth hasn't been recharged in and his tarantula looks like he's looking for him.

Spider... ugh!

He's ran away?

Uh... Optimus? From what I've seen, kids usually leave a note if they run away. They at least tell you why they felt like they had to leave.

And I think Star would've taken Rust with him. He loves that spider more than anything.

Abduction, then! I- cough, coooouuuugh!

OK, Megs, you need to calm down. Go back to berth and-

No! I am the only flight frame here and-

No, you're not.

I'll get Skyfire to start searching for him.

You need to rest and calm down.

If Prowl and his... his... friends... have had anything to do with this...

Let's just calm down. I'll get Skyfire in the air right now. We'll find Star. Go rest.

Yeah, come on, Megs. You'll be a lot more help to Starscream once you've rested up. If he's been kidnapped, we'll need you well – ASAP.

Rod, Bee, you boys help Prime.

Yes, sir!

Like I wouldn't without being told.

[elliespuns]

Not to brag or anything but I own a space themed t-shirt and I know Ellie would look so lovely in it

I think Ellie would rock absolutely everything; for example, what about my cheeky monkey tee