#i'll start the war to sit there

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live | 1x03 - Bye

[lucaanis]

I made a similar post before a long ass time ago for the other three da protags but now it's time for rook, this time in poll format <3

as always feel free to ramble about your ocs in the tags!! 👀

[essektheylyss]

I know a lot of us latched onto Charlock and Colin right off the bat, and they do have the air of holding back wells of history that are very intertwined with the political games of Calorum, which is intriguing and engaging and I'm looking forward to seeing what they're up to during the time jump and beyond, as well as finding out what exactly their webs of intrigue involve.

However, I am also in love with the other three and how much they feel like they're still on the outside of the political games, even if they are ensnared in them.

Amangeaux has been a queen for a span of time, but always a foreigner all the same—she seems cut off from the Vegetanian goings-on, though it's unclear how much that was the case when her husband was alive, and at the same time, she does not fall back onto playing the game when challenged like someone who is more trained in that might.

Karna is a spymaster, yes, and seems plenty knowledgeable about webs of information and the world's cruelty, but she's still a child. She does not have a large pool of experience to draw on, and she has never seen the scale of conflict that is coming up close. She most of them all believes that she does understand conflict and political games, while also believing herself above it, but at the end of the day, she is too young to truly understand the war that is coming.

Deli is the child of a leader of a nation, but that nation is viewed still as an outsider among those nations who consider themselves more civilized, and he is very trusting in spite of the training that he has been brought up in. He's an adult, but he exhibits a similar amount of naivete as the Rocks twins will twenty years from now, as heirs to kingdoms who are eager to make their own way and find freedom, without fully understanding the weight of responsibility that is settling upon them.

All of these characters exhibit varying degrees and kinds of innocence and naivete, and at the end of the day, for all of the comedy of the concept, this is a war story. War stories, particularly ones about how the world changes in times of war, require a certain amount of naivete, in order to contrast how brutal the world can become against what is lost in the process.

[worstloki]

people just ignore Thor was a feral child, huh? like his life goal was probably to demolish another race at age 12 and he was probably begging to go to war and attempted to murder their father for not letting him via telepathy that he didn't have.

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[nikoisme]

Niko, Niko, if you have the time and want to, would you be amenable to this humble request of drawing The Children? And with The Children I really mean The Cousins, aka Iphigenia, Hermione, Orestes, Electra, Chrysothemis and Telemachus (I just think it's be fun to see the kids all together)

YESS I actually had plans to draw them together! I have sketched designs for all of them (except Hermione i think whoops). It just might take me a while to get to it because i'm really busy with school. But i love this idea so much and i'll definitely have it on my mind :D

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[lyhil]

OC-tober 22 - "The All Seeing Eye of The Commander's Shadow"

Meisi belongs to @cheddargoblin

(tyvm tucking him into my pocket)

[jewishcissiekj]

Finished The Fight to Survive starting Midnight Horizon tomorrow let's go bitch

[teaboot]

Its been a rough couple days out here so I'm writing a list of things I love about my son

(who is cat)

His dumb little face

His pretty yellow eyes

Every day when I get home the FIRST thing that happens is I scoop him up into my arms like a big baby and he let's me rub his tumtum for a whole two minutes!! Before returning to Bite Mode

The SECOND thing that happens is he gets the zoomies! When his father returns from work he goes SNUGGLE! then zooooooom. Because he is excited for me to play with him!!

When I play computer games he likes to feel included so even though he isn't normally very touchy he lets me scoop him up in one arm so he can sit there like a toddler and watch the screen

He trusts me SO much like if he wants up on a shelf or down off something tall I can just walk over and kneel and he'll crawl up or down me like a ladder and I've never had a cat do that before

He'll ride around on my shoulders when I take him out for walks which van be tricky now that he's big but he's so brave even when we pass a dog

Sometimes when I go to run his chin he gets SO EXCITED he'll jam his nose into my palm and smush it hard like he's trying to burrow a hole in the ground and it's adorable

He loves water-appliances? Like sinks and toilets and baths and such. He gets SO excited every time I turn on a faucet, he'll rush over and get as close as he can to watch without getting wet.

His favourite part of the whole house is the bathtub and whenever I take a bath he'll drape himself over the side and lounge there until I get out. He's not allowed in when I'm using the toilet but once I'm done I open the door to leave and he rushes in to check if I've been taking a secret bath without him, goes straight to the tub

In trying to teach him not to bite me, he has learned that he IS allowed to bite blankets. So if he really, really wants to play and I'm ignoring him, he'll bite me blankets and whip them around like a puppy playing tug-of-war.

If I'm ignoring him because I am ALSEEP, this sometimes results in me waking up because he has successfully pulled my blankets off of me.

He likes watching trucks. He'll sit in the window and watch traffic but if he hears a loud engine he'll RUSH to check it out.

When he was a baby, my brother would visit in the afternoons to feed and play with him while I was working. As a result, he loves his uncle more than me, and will allow constant tummy rubs

Because my brothers and I do family movie night at my place, and because he loves his uncles so much, he lights up whenever the doorbell rings and MUST greet visitors at the door.

Sometimes he tries to climb up a door by hugging the edge and jumping as high as he can. It has never worked but he still keeps trying. I think he just likes sliding down like it's a firepole.

He is obsessed with the smell of McDonalds french fries. He doesn't try to eat them, he just wants the box. There us currently one under my bed that I'm not allowed to throw away. I can hear him jamming his face into it right now.

Sometimes when he's curious about something I'm doing- eating, drinking, washing up, whatever- I'll let him sniff, and I'll just hear two or three strongass HUFF. HUFF sounds before he goes back to chilling. It's the cutest shit.

He's soft like the luxurious wild mink

His littol baby FEETSIES

Sometimes he stops grooming himself and forgets his tongue is sticking out

His laser toy has a keychain attachment that jingles so whenever he hears a metallic jingle like that he thinks it's playtime

when I wash my face in the bathroom in the morning he hops on top of the toilet tank and starts grooming himself like "Oh hey I guess it's EVERYBODY'S bath time okay"

He's chatty and will meep back and forth with me

He has a round little wicker nest bed on a pedestal in my room and he likes to climb inside at night and make biscuits on the cushion while he sucks on the corner and it makes me wanna cry he's such a big baby

He will not wake me up for breakfast but as soon as I move in thevmorning he'll hop up onto my chest and stare at me. If I take too long to get up he'll meep in my face and then bounce back and forth between me and the door until I'm up.

Once I AM up, he will circle me and continue chirping until I ask him if it is time for dinner. Dinner, as far as he knows, is the only word for food. As soon as I ask, "is it dinner time?" He will zoom to the kitchen like a bat out of he'll and wait beside his bowl.

He genuinely seems to enjoy walkies and will climb into his carrier if he thinks we're going somewhere

Soketimes he'll pick up one of his toys and trot around with it like he's showing it off and I swear to God every time it makes me wanna make the most embarrassing noises

Him son ♡

[steddiealltheway]

Steve's not really sure when it became a thing.

Maybe it was while Eddie was in the hospital recovering from his injuries, and the kids had forced Steve onto the visiting schedule. Maybe it was after Eddie got out of the hospital, and the kids insisted they continue to honor the schedule. Maybe it had nothing to do with the schedule and everything to do with the fact that Steve and Eddie had become... friends.

This is also a big maybe in Steve's head because he's pretty sure Eddie just hangs out with him from time to time because he's allowed to drink and smoke around or with him - and he's found that Eddie doesn't like to be alone for extended periods of time.

Steve can't blame him. But with his parents' seemingly permanent absence, he's kind of grown used to it whenever the kids and Robin are forced to go back to school.

But right now, Steve is grateful that Eddie has continued their "thing" in which he shows up at Steve's house at 9pm every Thursday - the same time as one of Steve's assigned "Eddie shifts" - with a six-pack in hand.

Only, this week, Eddie shows up with two bottles of wine.

Steve raises his eyebrows at him as he lets him into the house, shutting the door quickly to keep the cold air out.

"I just thought you'd like to change it up today," Eddie comments nonchalantly as he heads to the living room. Steve wonders for a moment if he knows the secret he's been keeping from everyone, but he figures he doesn't especially when he blabs on, "So, what movie are you blessing me with this week?"

Steve rolls his eyes as he goes to grab the tape and put it in the VCR, but he hesitates for a moment, straightening up to point at Eddie. "You will absolutely tell no one about this, got it? Also, I'm expecting a phone call, but you're not allowed to listen in on it."

"Got it. Scout's honor," Eddie replies with a wink and a salute.

"You were not a boy scout," Steve huffs as he decides to bite the bullet and put the tape in.

Eddie frowns and puts a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Steve. How could you say that?"

"Because I was a boy scout, and we would've been in the same troop."

Once Steve sits on the couch, Eddie leans in and nudges his shoulder. "What I wouldn't give to go back in time and meet a young Steve Harrington. I could've corrupted you sooner."

"I'm afraid Dustin beat you to the corrupting. He's the one who made me watch Star Wars."

"I can always corrupt you in other ways, Steve," Eddie comments, obnoxiously batting his eyelashes.

Steve laughs, used to the blatant flirting during the trailers at this point. "Is that why you brought the wine? To set the mood?"

"Something like that," Eddie says with a soft smile before switching back to his dramatics. "But I'll have you know, I'm a gentleman. Plus, I would like you to remember the first time I blow your mind."

"Blow my mind?" Steve asks, reaching over to grab the bottles. "How would you do that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Eddie says with a wink before uncapping his wine.

Steve glances at his own bottle for a moment, distracted. "It's a screw top."

"It's cheap," Eddie explains. He raises his bottle and tilts it Steve's way. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Steve answers, screwing off the top and taking a swig. Tastes like wine. And it also tastes like... a bad idea.

"So, what movie are we watching that has you so defensive?" Eddie asks, throwing his arm along the back of the couch.

To that, Steve takes a longer drink. "One of my mom's favorite movies. We used to watch it together whenever my dad went out of town for his business trips. But then my mom started getting more suspicious of him staying at the office late, and then she started to go on those business trips with him. Which now seem to... never end." Steve sighs and settles back onto the couch a bit more, head resting right on Eddie's hand. He quickly gets the hint and starts gently playing with his hair.

Steve's not sure when that became a thing either.

After another sip of wine, Steve finally confesses, "It's The Sound of Music."

A few expressions pass over Eddie's face before he quietly says, "That was one of my mom's favorites, too."

The two of them share a similar look of understanding and painful longing for a time they'll neither get back. They both drink at the same time as the opening notes of "The Sound of Music" ring out.

As the movie plays, the two of them drift closer - as they always do - and Steve notices that he's slowly but surely getting a bit wine-drunk. Which is what Robin calls the "worst type of drunk Steve." Maybe he should've taken her up on her offer to stay the full day.

As the last scene plays, Steve finds himself glancing toward the phone more than the screen.

"You okay?" Eddie asks gently, the hand in his hair moving to cup his face.

Steve can feel the way the wine flushes his cheeks and sits heavy on his stomach when he asks, "When do you realize your parents have given up on you?"

Eddie swallows heavily before grabbing Steve's nearly empty bottle and putting it on the coffee table. He sits back and fully turns to him. "For me, I fully realized a month after I stayed with Wayne. I still hadn't unpacked the cardboard box my things were in, hoping that maybe since my dad had dropped me off my mom would pick me up. But I hadn't seen her in years." He looks back at the TV where the end credits are rolling. "She left promising me she would come back and make a better life for the two of us eventually. I thought with my dad out of the picture, she'd be back. But as soon as I unpacked that box, I gave up on the idea."

Steve shifts closer and grabs Eddie's hand. "I'm sorry."

Eddie looks at him and tilts his head down so he's looking him right in the eye. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too. And..." he hesitates for a moment before resting his forehead against Steve's and whispering, "Happy birthday."

Steve's eyes close tightly. It's the words he had been waiting for all day but in hopes that they'd be coming out the mouths of at least one of his parents. Preferably his mom.

There's pressure behind his eyes, and Steve reaches out to squeeze Eddie's hand gently, warning him in his own way that he might fall apart. But Eddie stays where he is.

"This is the first year they haven't called," Steve whispers, feeling one tear fall down his face. "I know they're assholes but... I didn't think they'd be this much of an asshole. God," he breathes out, breaking away from Eddie to lean back against the couch, hands covering his face as more tears fall.

A familiar arm drapes itself around Steve's shoulders tugging gently until he winds up with his head buried in Eddie's neck.

They sit there for a while, Eddie holding him and running a soothing hand through his hair that reminds Steve of the first time Eddie had opened up to him about the nightmares that never went away, and they had ended up in a similar but swapped position.

Maybe that's when this became a thing.

It's a while before Steve speaks up to ask, "Hey, how do you even know when my birthday is? The last person I told was probably Tommy Hagan in the eighth grade. And Robin, of course, but I swore her to secrecy."

"Oh god," Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pull back to look at him fully. Eddie's head lulls to the side as he looks at him with an adorably embarrassed and caught expression. "So... don't hate me for this, but this happened a few years ago. And... do I really have to tell you?"

"It's my birthday, you have to tell me," Steve replies.

Eddie huffs, ever so dramatically, and grabs Steve's hands before confessing, "So, I stole your wallet a few times."

Steve can't help but laugh at the absurd confession. "When?"

"It was back in your sophomore year probably. We had some horrible science class together, and you sat right in front of me, and well... My friends and I made this hypothesis, very scientific, that some rich kids, including you, wouldn't notice if a dollar or two went missing from their wallets." Steve snorts, and Eddie smiles. "And you had this horrible habit of leaving the front pocket of your backpack open so..."

"Occasionally you would steal anywhere from one to five dollars from my wallet? And one time you managed to swipe ten," Steve fills in for him, vividly remembering something he hadn't thought about in years.

Eddie's eyes widen. "So, my hypothesis was wrong."

"No, you're just less subtle than you think you are."

There's a moment where Eddie just stares at him incredulously. "You're telling me, you let me steal from you? And you didn't beat me up for it?"

Steve shrugs, thinking about the first time it had happened, and he had truly considered it, but he realized. "I knew you needed it more than I did. But that's not what we're talking about. How did this lead you to finding out about my birthday?"

"It was on your driver's license, and I ended up memorizing it in case you had a big party that I could sell at. But then it just... stuck." Eddie looks down at their hands for a moment before he looks up and states, "And we're not about to breeze past this. I must've stolen at least thirty dollars from you!" He lets go of one of Steve's hands to grab his wallet off the coffee table. "For your birthday, let me pay you back."

Steve laughs and shakes his head. "You are not giving me thirty dollars for my birthday. And don't fight me on this, or I'll end up telling Dustin you gave me money without hesitation."

Eddie frowns at him and reluctantly puts his wallet back down. He leans over to Steve and cups his face as he plants a kiss onto his forehead. "You're never who I think you are, Steve Harrington."

"Is that a good thing?" Steve asks as his eyes glance down at his lips.

"A very good thing. It means I'll never give up on you," Eddie says with a teasing lilt but Steve knows that he means it.

"Same to you."

Eddie's teasing smile falters as he looks at Steve. One of his thumbs swipes at a remaining tear trail.

Steve's heart beats a little harder and he can't stop staring at Eddie's lips. He wonders when that became a thing.

"There's one thing you could do for me for my birthday," Steve breaths out.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks quietly.

Steve doesn't answer him, he just leans in slowly, closing his eyes when his nose brushes against Eddie's. But then he feels Eddie gently pull away.

"Earlier, I said I wanted you to remember when I blow your mind, Steve."

Steve's eyes flutter open. "I'm not that far gone."

Eddie sighs and mumbles, "I can't believe I'm doing this," and raises his voice to say, "I'll kiss you when I can't smell wine on your breath, deal?"

"Deal," Steve says, holding out his hand.

Eddie laughs as he shakes it, then grabs it to pull them both up.

"Bedtime?" Steve asks. Eddie nods, turning off the TV before leading the way to the kitchen to get two glasses of water before heading to Steve's room.

Steve knows exactly when that became a thing - the second time Eddie was over at his house, and he had a nightmare in the guest room. Steve now insists that he sleeps with him anytime he's over.

When they get into bed on their by-now-established sides, Steve can't help but say, "I think this is the best birthday I've had in a long time." He sighs and reaches out to grab Eddie's hand laying between them. "Maybe next year I'll tell everyone."

"Or we can make up a fake birthday for you that happens to fall sometime next week, and next year we'll pretend that everyone remembered the wrong date."

Steve laughs and squeezes Eddie's hand. "Or next week, I can take you on a date."

"Shh," Eddie quickly shushes him, "This definitely means it's time for you to go to bed."

"I can't wait for you to blow my mind in the morning," Steve says instead of trying and failing to fight Eddie on the fact that he's more coherent than he thinks he is. Besides, the faster he falls asleep, the sooner tomorrow will come.

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, slightly amused.

"Goodnight, Eds."

Much to Eddie's surprise, he wakes up to Steve asking for a kiss. And he very much blows his mind.

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[incorrectbatfam]

Why did the batfam drop "that" class (as in dropped in the first week)

Tim: *walks into class with coffee*

Teaching assistant: No food or drinks allowed.

Tim: *turns around and walks away*

———————

Helena: *goes into a lecture hall*

*ritual cult sacrifice is happening*

Helena: Oh I am NOT supposed to be here.

———————

Cullen: *walks into gym class*

Cullen: *sees dodgeballs*

Cullen: I'll just take the F.

———————

Barbara: *logs into her Zoom class*

Some dude: *inspecting his nostrils in the webcam*

Barbara: *logs out*

———————

Duke, walking in: This the AP Chemistry lab?

Teacher: It's actually organic chemistry. But feel free to join, it's just as fun.

Duke: Ah. Um... thanks, but no thanks.

———————

Bette: Hi, I'm here for the rock climbing camp.

Camp counselor, pointing: That rock. Climb it.

Bette: But that's just a regular rock.

Counselor: So?

———————

Instructor: I need a couple of really tough guys to push this car out the garage.

Harper: *rolls up her sleeves, muttering about sexism*

Harper: *pushes the car home with her*

———————

Professor: Welcome to Russian Literature 101. I assume you all completed the summer reading of War and Peace in its entirety.

Jason, packing up: Nope, even I have my limits.

———————

Steph: *walks into the classroom*

Steph: *sets up her little cooking station*

Steph: I can't wait for Home Ec.

Selina, the teacher: Welcome to Rogue Economics, where we study financial ins and outs of villainy.

———————

Teacher: Welcome to woodshop.

Damian: I want to make a sword.

Teacher: I'm afraid I can't let you do that.

Damian: Tt.

———————

Carrie: Can I sit up front? I forgot my glasses and I can't see very well.

Teacher: No, I already assigned seats.

Carrie: Okay.

Carrie: Bye.

———————

Professor: Welcome to Engineering Foundations without lab.

Luke: I thought there was a lab?

Professor: You have to register for that section separately.

Luke: Oh, alright.

Luke: *tries to sign up online*

*classes are full*

Luke: *sheepishly raises his hand*

Luke: Can I be dismissed?

———————

Dick: *signs up for a community art class*

Dick: Man, I can't wait to surprise Dami.

Instructor: Welcome everyone. Today we'll start with some basic figure drawing. I invited a live model to help us and he's very excited to be here.

Alfred: *waltzes in and drops his robe*

Dick: *throws his paintbrush away*

———————

Bruce: Here's your training schedule for this week. I optimized it given our Justice League mission on Saturday.

Cass: *hums*

Cass: One note.

Cass: *leaves*

[darkbluekies]

King Edmund & Hedwig drabbles: Them being drunk

Yandere!king x fem!reader & yandere!richgirl x reader

Warnings: alcohol, unstable behavior

King Edmund

You walk down the hall to his office. According to his secretary, he's been drinking the entire evening. It's the secretary who's sent you to his office, because no one else dare go close.

"Edmund?" you ask carefully and open the door.

He sits behind his desk, leaning on one arm, glaring towards the door. His dull eyes light up as he sees you.

"My jewel!" his voice is slurred.

"You need to go to bed", you say and walk over to him, removing the crystal glass out of his hand carefully. "Enough drinking for today, okay?"

"Why?"

"You've had enough."

"No, I haven't. Give me the fucking bottle."

"Edmund."

He rolls his eyes and stands up. His hands grab at you and pull you into his arms. He sighs and rests his head on yours.

"My pretty jewel", he mumbles and showers your face in kisses. "You're so pretty. All dressed up for me."

"I'm in a nightgown?"

"Not for long."

"Edmund."

He chuckles and holds you tighter. He's calmer than usual when drunk, but you know that if anyone comes to disrupt his cuddle session, he will blow up in anger. When Edmund's drunk, his anger can explode from nothing. He's declared war on a neighbor country before. That's why you need to get him to sleep as quickly as possible.

"Come now, you need to sleep", you say and give his arm a tug.

His ice blue eyes are slightly red around the corners and they have problems with focusing on you. His breathe smells like gin and wine.

"I don't need to fucking sleep."

You need to keep him calm, yet stay stern enough for him to listento you. "Yes, you do. I'll sleep beside you."

"You will?"

"Yeah."

Edmund's foggy head seem to think for a moment. "Okay."

And so, he actually follows you to bed to go to sleep, holding you tighter than a boa constrictor, showering your face in kisses until he falls asleep.

Hedwig:

You're not sure why you agreed to go to the aristocrat party with her. Mostly because you had no choice. If Hedwig does something, so do you. You weren't ready for her to drink herself beyond comprehendability.

"Y/N ..."

You try to remove her clothes to go to bed. She's not making it easy for you. You give up and pull her into the bathroom to remove her, now messy, makeup. You push her down on the toilet.

"Up with your head", you say and hold her chin in your hand.

She pouts her lips and you sigh before kissing them.

"More?"

"Wait, I have to remove your makeup", you say and start to wipe her face with a wet wipe. "Or else you will freak out tomorrow morning and have a horrible day. I know you."

She turns her head and grimaces, resulting in her getting the wet wipe in her mouth and eyes.

"Can you sit still?" you ask.

She stares up at you with sparkling eyes which start to fill with tears.

"Why are you crying?" you ask.

"I love you so much", she pouts. "I'm so lucky to have you."

Every time she's drunk, she starts to cry. Hedwig hugs your waist and hides her face into your stomach, crying.

"You need to sleep", you say.

"Don't ever leave me." Her voice gets muffled against your shirt. "I can't live without you. If you leave ..."

She doesn't finish her sentence. She sobs.

"Hedwig", you sigh.

"You have to stay with me, you have to stay with me", she cries. "I don't want anything else I only want you."

"Okay, you need to go to sleep now."

You pull her to bed and tuck her in. She falls alseep immideatly.

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, bro - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."

Read Part Two here!

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?

Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen. 

Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro

You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.

Bro.

It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.

Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny. 

Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro. 

You close your eyes with a sigh. 

"Thumb war."

"What?"

You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.

"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie." 

Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on." 

As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.

You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too. 

“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned. 

You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.

"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.  

"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little. 

"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you." 

The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.

Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."

Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.

But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.” 

For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier. 

As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”

Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote. 

“What did you say?”

“I said you’re annoying.”

You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best. 

“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line. 

It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.

"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much. 

"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –

Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.

When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”

Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”

“You kissed me.”

Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”

Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin

[keferon]

Ahhhhhhhhh! The TF mecha Deadlock and human Ratchet drawing! I just saw it before sending this. His squishy! But yeeee! Continuing from the last one I wrote. Just pulled ideas from other posts you and others have done in this TF mecha universe. This is fun! :P

****

Ratchet's living quarters is much like the hanger where his lab is. An open area with some dividers up to make separate rooms. Scaffolding and catwalks line the wall and stairs are at each corner of the hanger. The interior is smaller when compared to the lab but the ceiling is much taller, allowing Deadlock the ability to sit up right comfortably. It looks like a little maze to Deadlock who can look down from above. Out of the five rooms in this hanger turned living quarters, Deadlock can't see into three of them. Ratchet's berthroom, the kitchen, and washrack all have ceilings to them. Ratchet's office is connected to the sitting area. Being the largest area in the hanger Deadlock has taken over the sitting area to recharge and heal in. Being the Chief Engineer no one has questioned Ratchet for having Deadlock in his hanger because Ratchet always takes work home with him. Also don't question Ratchet.

A click from the main entrance door has Deadlock stir from his recharge. Old instincts and habits have made him a light recharger. He opens one optic, a red glow fills the room. Blinding bright and staticky at first but dims and clears as his visual boots up. He see Ratchet opening the tiny entryway to slip out. He rumbles knowing it is way to early for Ratchet to head back to his lab. Ratchet had maybe, at most, gotten two hours of recharge. Deadlock gives a rumble/grunt again, this time it sounds more like a wheeze as he starts to shift to grab his little squishy who has already opened the door and stepped half way out. He is using the door to make himself unsnatchable not without breaking the thin metal.

Number one rule while in Ratchet's domain: Don't break Ratchet's things, he NEEDS them. The objects Ratchet chuck do not/can not hurt him. The disappointment and tired frustration however does hit something deep in his war worn spark. "Power back down kid. Just leaving for an emergency meeting. When I get back I'll check your intakes and engine. It's rattling and straining hard again." Ratchet says in a deep rougher voice used only when he wakes from recharge. The door click behind the human not giving him time to reply in his drowsy state. He rubs his fresh welded wounds and with a unhappy grunt curls loosely back around what Ratchet calls a lazy-e-boy chair and entertainment center.

ALL DAY! All day Ratchet has been gone. Deadlock should be use to Ratchet's long work days. But Ratchet didn't fuel before he left, he hasn't recharged in a long while. Two hours is not a recharge. Not for him, not for Ratchet. He is worried, it oozes out and around him from his EM Field like a shadowy murky cloak. His audial fins are pinned down and back as far as they can go. Ratchet looks so worn down. Overworked and shoulders heavy with responsibly the Cybertonian knows the bioengineer should not have to bare. The tv is on to use as a distraction but it no more then background noise as his proccesor runs through scenarios of what could be keeping Ratchet this time.

The door lock clicks and Deadlock instantly perks up. His EM Field fizzles away from gloomy to a more warm and bright mood. "Ratch-" He stops immediately when Ratchet comes through the door. Deadlock rakes his claws into the concrete floor and his field starts boiling with the energon in his lines. Ratchet is bruised and bleeding. The humans forehelm and knuckes are covered with fresh and dried blood. His glare intensifies as Ratchet closes the door and slumps against it with a grumble. Ratchet grunts as he takes off his shoes and dirty jacket. Deadlock's helm is filled with static and his spark heavy and spinning way to fast. He can taste energon on his glossa thanks to his fangs. Rage is not what is taking over his sensors and proccesor. Something more like a deeply rooted need, something instinctually feral burns hot in his frame. "WHO'D DARE-" Ratchet holds up a hand and makes a hushing noise, Deadlock snarls engine rattling harder to keep up with his burst of energy and restrained energon lust. His limbs shaking with just as much restraint. The only thing keeping him from ripping the hanger down is Ratchet's hunched form at the entry way. When Ratchet looks up at Deadlock his jaw snaps shut, denta slamming hard against each other with a harsh clank. The fragger looks amused! Tired, frustrated, and hurting but Deadlock knows that look. Those lips are ever so slightly turned up into an amused smirk, "R a t c h e t." Deadlock hisses out passed his denta audial fins pinned back.

"Relax, before you blow a fuse. You should see the other guy. These are just scratches Drift." The fragger chuckles wiping some blood from his lip with his thumb. That does something to Deadlock that he will not acknowledge right now. His spark flutters and pulses harder, EM Field a confusing mix of emotions that Ratchet can't feel, "I had a disagreement with some of the others in command while another sister base visited. I am fine. Been in more then one scrapping in my time." Ratchet hums as he limps into his office, Deadlock claws at the floor again. "I did not party and study my whole younger life away just to get my PhD in biomedical engineering and be told how to do my job. I may have got a tad heated." He chuckles again at Deadlocks snort/huff.

Deadlock relaxes slightly as Ratchet pulls out a medical kit. His systems are running hot and HUB flashing warnings at him do as Ratchet suggested. He relaxes slightly and presses his servo against his helm. "Frag doc starting fights for a disagreement?" He rasps out watching Ratchet closely while he steadies his intakes. The human carefully works on cleaning the blood stained knuckles, Deadlock takes some pleaser in knowing all that blood is not just Ratchet's. "You're just as much of a hot menace as me."

"For you." Ratchet mumbles as he gently rubs ointment on the cuts. "They wanted me to turn you over to the field officer. Told them that you are still a work in progress that needs more time. That you came to my lab mmm.." Ratchet realizes it's the next day, a whole day wasted arguing in a concert room with metal chairs. With stuck up, pathetic excesses for- "Two days ago now.. said I activated some guardian protocal that day by accident which what brought you looking for me. They think you are imprinted on me. Something like that." Ratchet winces as he wraps his most bruised and swollen hand. A whine leaves Deadlock's stuttering engine, the tip of his pointer digit's claw has been hovers over Ratchet's helm as the doc talked, "What is it Drift?" Ratchet pauses from reaching for the alcohol soaked cotten ball. He looking up into overly bright, almost white with worry optics. Ratchet's optics dart around looking over Deadlock's form and healing welds.

Deadlock wants to huff, to roll his optics at the bioengineer's worry for him. But he can't stop his spark and fuel tanks from turning while he watches the red liquid drip down Ratchet's forehelm and optic ridge. "I... can't help you. You are hurt.. cause of me... and I can only watch you patch yourself up." He admits dimming his optics and looking down. All of this because he got impatient and hunted down his squishy to get him to recharge for once.

Ratchet's optics soften slightly. He shuts the kit with a sharp snap and huffs as he straightens from being hunched over. "Hand down please." Deadlock's audial fins perk up at the request. He carefully and gently, as gently as he can, places two digits into the office room. He lifts Ratchet up slowly once the small being had found a good spot to sit on his servo. He doesn't want to risk even the slightest breeze to brush against the bruised and cut flesh. He makes certain his servo is locked so it doesn't twitch on them. "This is high enough. Stay still." Deadlock is about to scold him when he thinks Ratchet is going to check the welds on his chassis. Instead Ratchet pops the kit back open and works on himself. Deadlock's vocal box clicks a few times as he tries to comprehend what his squishy is doing. His spark flutters with his EM Field when he realizes Ratchet is using his metal plating like a mirror. Ratchet dabs the cotton ball on the cut above his left optic ridge. "Didn't feel like going all the way to the bathroom. So thanks kid."

Deadlock purrs and almost melts from the thanks. Yes he will happily be a mirror. "Clever thing to do doc. Have those idiots thinking I am loyal and protective to only you will mean I can follow you around more. I am content being imprinted on you. Just tell them you can't undo it doc and if they touch you ever again I will pluck their little tiny servos off and feed it to them." He rumbles in a flat tone towards the end. He rolls his optics at the small ping from Ratchet flicking his chassis, "You may start a fight doc but know I will finish it."

"Didn't really start it either kid." Ratchet sighs looking at his reflection with a solemn expression before going back to dabbing the cotten ball harder against the cut, "Wasn't just about you Drift. They wanted.... they want..." Deadlock wants to curl around Ratchet the tone he is using now sounds like defeat, that's not his Ratchet. Deadlock lifts his free servo and retracts a claw so he can rub Ratchet's back as best he can to comfort him. "I can't." Ratchet rasps placing his forehelm against Deadlock chassis. Deadlock's engine settles to a purr Cybertonians use to sooth each other. It seems to work. Ratchet's shoulders relax and he seems to be getting his thoughts together. Deadlock stays silent and even if he doesn't need to keeps his EM Field in check. He only giving off support, warmth and calm, "It's inhumane, evil... Tourture... It would break down to much of the muscles and cells of the body. The hippocampus, the cerebral cortex, and the frontal lobe... that much damage to the brain would... I can't do what they want me to. Not to anyone Drift. Not what they ask. I can't. To adults, to teenagers, To Children. Young kids not knowing what they have signed up for. Never told. No choice. No way in hell could I ever-"

The strain and deep pain in Ratchet's voice is killing Deadlock. Deadlock can feel the trembling coming from Ratchet as the human catches his breath. He keeps a steady presser against Ratchet's back for support as he moves him up. He ignores the small gasp from Ratchet when he presses Ratchet to his cheek gently. Warm smooth metal touched warm soft skin, "Never. Never will you do what anyone demands of you. They can not make you harm anyone. You have never done anything you didn't want to and you won't start now. You are to much for them to try to control. My little squishy scraplet. I will kill them if they try. You have my glyphic, honor, and spark on this." Deadlock pulls back feeling something wet on his faceplate. Before Deadlock can get a good look at Ratchet's face, the bioengineer is shakily wiping his optics in a rushed motion aggravating the wound on his forehelm making it bead up with fresh blood, "Woah easy doc!" Ratchet bats his digit away when he tries to stop him.

"Stupidly cocky little shit! Lets get you feeling better before you try taking on a whole mecha filled base for me!" Ratchet laughs and smacks the digit still pressed against his back. That laugh does something to Deadlock's systems and spark, "We'll need to discuss a plan. I don't ever do anything half ass. I will not go into anything blind. But you are right, this is not the place for me to be anymore. Sad really. I was doing a lot of good here, made things safer for our pilots. Slowly sure but less were dying... so horridly all the time." Ratchet mumbles the last bit under his breath before shaking his helm. Deadlock likes the smirk that comes back to Ratchet's lips, "Now lay down so I can check that engine. You are starting to sound like a shitty abandoned junker car. Think you knock something out of place."

Deadlock matches Ratchet's smirk with a slag eating grin as he lifts the human a tad higher to press his forehelm against Ratchet's. He feels Ratchet pulls back after a moment, a stuttering raspy purr rumbles pleasantly through him when Ratchet places his servo against his forehelm and rubs. Yeah he does sound like slag and his HUB is flashing warnings, "What ever you say Doc. I am your guardian knight after all. You just tell me when to start swinging." He hums as he shifts to lay down.

Y O U. YOU JUST WROTE THIS ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE OF A FIC??? AND I DONT EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME?? WHOEVER YOU ARE, ANON, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH NGKGKFGBFHGH YOUR WRITING DOES THINGS TO MY BRAI N

Also. Al s o. I just realized. Oh my god.

We have two Cybertronians on Earth at the moment right. Prowl and Deadlock. But Prowl is very much restricted in his actions because he has strong moral codex and also he's not a very good fighter (at least on his own).

But then we also have Deadlock. And the only thing keeping Deadlock in check is. Ratchet.

Like. Oh fuck just imagine. He isn't restricted by any moral implications except Ratchets opinion. He doesn't really give a fuck about other organic life or laws of Earth or anything. He is also a really fucking good fighter. He doesn't commit murder because that would disappoint Ratchet, but if. IF. Something happens to Ratchet?

THE HELL he would unleash would be visible from outer space.

Him being so sweet and caring and protective over Ratchet doesn't mean he behaves like this with everyone. Him being protective over Ratchet means that if anything takes Ratchet from him, he'll drown himself in blood. He'll burn, claw, gnaw, punch and tear his way back to his human.

All so he can be nice and sweet and caring again right afterward:)

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