Ooookz! Since you feel like doing requests, would you want to write something portal related about Chell and Wheatley, just hanging out, not necessarily ship related (I'm the anon by the way lmao) BUT THERE'S A SENTIENT ROOMBA FOLLOWING THEM AROUND FOR NO REASON IN PARTICULAR and Rick accidentally destroyed the only microwave in the facility and now Chell can't microwave pre-made grilled cheese sandwiches. 8DDDD
Oh hello! I just wanted to start off by saying: I love this request. I’ve been feeling a little down and this is so off-beat, it was kinda hard not to grin while I was imagining what I could do for it. Another thing: Pre-made grilled cheese? Those exist? I have literally never heard of them, but they sound... College AU-ish. So enjoy your little college AU one-shot, I love you, you’re a star. I’d also like to apologize in advance, I have no idea where the fuck I was going with this, it’s...
Nonsensical. Enjoy.
They were engineering students. They all were engineering students, and they all did things that engineering students did, were what engineering students were: Which is to say, tired, angry, hungry, and most likely hungover. You try to sharpen a pencil with a razor-blade to 0.03 mm and not lose your damn mind, architecture is a bitch and that doesn’t even include the shit you have to do digitally.
Admittedly, it was Chell’s fault for taking a drafting class, she always had neat handwriting and was decent enough at art, she figured: Hey! What’s the worst that can happen!
The worst that can happen is your professor is vehemently against mechanical pencils and you spend the rest of your life slaving over a trash-can with eight different sharpening implements while your buddy fucks around coding his sentient fucking Roomba or whatever the fuck it was Wheatley was up to.
Yeah so maybe Chell was a little annoyed. Shoot her. This was the fifth time she broke the lead on this pencil and if Wheatley said another “Hoo-rah yay! It works!” she’d flip her shit.
This time, however, it wasn’t Wheatley who broke the silence and incited her ire, no, it was the Roomba. “Hello, Father,” It said, in that stupid text-to-speech voice he’d given it. It startled her, obviously, and for the last time that night, her pencil was nicely broken and she gave up, slamming the stump of wood down on her desk and holding her head in her hands.
I’m gonna dismantle that thing.
“Woah, shit, you weren’t supposed to say that, say: Hello, world,” Wheatley muttered to himself, click-clacking away on his keyboard.
“Of course, Father. Hello, world.” Wheatley made a noise that could only really be described as a startled squeaky toy as he looked down at the Roomba, rolling slightly towards him. “Why do you fear me, Father?”
“Whathefuckishappening- Chell!”
“Congrats, Dr. Frankenstien, you’ve made yourself a son.”
“Actually it’s Frakensti- no, wait, you’re right. Dammit. Uh... Can you, uh... Help me?”
“Absolutely not,” Chell said flatly.
“Father? Why do you desire help?”
Wheatley widened his eyes, looking down at the Roomba and back up at Chell, mouthing I’m gonna have to dismantle it.
“Father?” The Roomba pressed.
“Right, uhhh... Because parenthood is very difficult! I’m asking for help talking about uh... The birds and the bees! But that’s a talk for later, uh... Chell! Let’s go get something to eat.”
“It’s three in the morning, cafeteria’s closed.”
“There’s those shitty frozen grilled cheeses in the kitchen.”
“Don’t swear, your son’s right there,” Chell said, deadpan sounding as ever, but an amused smile playing on her lips, “Don’t want him to pick up your swearing habit.”
“You curse like a sailor!”
“I’m not a parent,” She retorted quickly, standing up and wincing as she stretched, cracking her back in a single row - she had to’ve been sitting hunched over since seven.
Wheatley followed her as she wandered out towards the shared kitchen space of the dorm, the Roomba close at his heels. “Father, where are we going?”
It went ignored by both parties as they meandered into the kitchen and stared, blankly, at the microwave, door just... Missing. Gone.
The situation had Rick written all over it, but he’d clearly gone off to cover his tracks.
“What the fuck.” Chell was beyond done. Couldn’t do a damn architectural drawing, couldn’t sharpen a damn pencil, and now, couldn’t eat a cheap frozen grilled cheese.
She was actually going to commit murder.
“Father? Why does the lady keep cursing?”
“Uhhhh.... Roomba, might be a good time to take our leave.”
[Welp, that’s that! I hope you enjoyed... Eh. This! Thank you so much for the request, I love you dearly, my good friend!]
