seventysixes

[seventysixes]

Iniciando el hackeo...

                                             Time to wake up, Jack.

                                             There’s still work to do. 

[seventysixes]

Send me a drabble prompt

Goodbye: My muse watching yours die

Farewell: My muse or yours leaving the other (Please specify which)

Blood: My muse killing yours

Shiver: Our muses trying to stay warm

Hush: My muse trying to calm and quiet yours

War: Our muses arguing

Nocturnal: Our muses up late at night

Confession: My muse confesses something to yours

Reckless: My muse does something dangerous for yours

Warmth: Our muses doing something fluffy and cute together

Intimate: Our muses doing some hot and steamy together

Phobia: Our muses discussing what scares them

Tricky: Our muses doing something sneaky

Deceive: My muse lying to yours

[seventysixes]

enemigodetectado‌:

She leans against the wooden back of her chair, arms crossed across her chest, and studies the soldier’s body language as he replies. Tense, as he usually is when she brings Gabe up, but defensive enough in posture that she suspects his reasoning is only to get her to drop the Reyes topic; in which case, really, he should know better.

“Fine. Whatever you say, viejito.”

Maybe he actually believes he’s learning the language for himself- who knows? He’d be a hell of a lot easier to read if he took that damned visor off, but Sombra is smart enough to know that Morrison knows that; the mask might be as much a security thing to Jack as Gabe’s is to him, but the vigilant care he takes to wear the thing whenever she’s around leads her to believe that it’s probably also a line of defense against her prying eyes.

She could easily hack the display, of course, but where’s the fun in that?

“…why’d you wait so long to learn if it’s something you wanted to do? I’m sure Spanish would have come in handy during your glory days.” Sombra arches an eyebrow as the question is served to Jack; she’s genuinely curious how someone with as high a status as him could manage to go so long without learning another language. “You can’t tell me you enjoyed having a translator follow you around everywhere you went.”

Jack sighs- while he’s grateful to move on from the topic of Reyes, Sombra’s questions always leave him with lingering discomfort. It’s not her fault, he supposes. She’s curious about him and his past, and in spending time with her, he really only minds her prying because it reminds him of all the things he’s come to regret. This is just a small one among many others, but it’s enough to make his shoulder’s slump.

“I ran out of time,” he says simply, looking away from her. “I was... preoccupied. Always assumed I’d have more time to pick it up later. Wasn’t so lucky on that front.”

Still, he knows it’s all just an excuse. As strike commander he was busy, but Sombra has a point- taking the time out would have saved him energy and trouble elsewhere. But he always used his job as a crutch to avoid doing things out of his comfort zone or to try and forgive his misgivings. It was the same reason he never took the opportunity to be honest about his relationship with Gabe. A poor excuse to get out of something that scared him.

“Picked up on some Spanish. German and Swiss, too. But I barely had time to sleep, let alone study another language,” he explains, fidgeting with his jacket sleeves. “Wouldn’t exactly say I have the time now either, but ain’t much point in putting it off anymore.”

[seventysixes]

ITS HEADCANON HOUR! PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND “ 🙋‍♀️ “ + any question(s) YOU MAY HAVE REGARDING MY MUSE.

[seventysixes]

Old, bitter, and in love.

[seventysixes]

The very same man.

[seventysixes]

say amen (saturday night) // panic! at the disco

[seventysixes]

I’ll tell you one thing, kid, this old man hasn’t laughed like that in years

[seventysixes]

enemigodetectado‌:

@seventysixes​ | continued.

Sombra sits cross legged on the floor and watches this scene unfold before her, brows knit together and violet eyes trained on the soldier as he hobbles off the cot. She’s a people watcher- always has been- and so body language is something Sombra considers herself fluent in. Nowadays she notices every hitch in Morrison’s breath, how he tends to favor one leg over the other when he walks- how, lately, it seems he’s taking longer and longer to recover from firefights. 

He won’t admit it, of course- stubborn old man that he is, but the hacker can see right through him; and, despite herself, she’s concerned for the soldier.

“That you’re dying, Jack.” She sighs the reply, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic gravity to it. Adjusting, Sombra brings her legs up to her chest, hugging them, and sets her chin upon a knee. “Genetic alterations aren’t what they used to be, verdad?”

≫ A heavy sigh-- Not his usual gruff, dismissive one, but one far more morose. It wasn’t a well-kept secret, and he’d known for a while. But hearing her say it out loud... it makes his stomach knot up. He runs a hand over his ribs and rolls his shoulders, pushing the fear down as deep as he can.

“Underneath everything, I guess I’m still human.”

Unfortunate, really. At some point, he became accustomed to the advantages that came with being involved in SEP. There had been a fear among recruits that eventually the effects would wear off, but... maybe he just forgot. Years of putting his body under immense physical stress were catching up with him faster than he could process. He should have prepared for this- but there was so much else going on. Once again, too distracted with the rest of the world to notice all the ways he was falling apart.

A beat and he pushes himself up, using the wall for support. He just needs to stretch. “I have other things to worry about,” he comments, a distinct bitterness in his tone. “And so do you.”

[seventysixes]

[ @misspauling​ | continued ]

≫ Jack rubs his forehead, falling backward with a thud into one of the chairs lined up against the wall outside his office. Chairs where people wait to talk to him- absently he wonders how many people he really keeps waiting. Undoubtedly more than he actually sees in a day. A sigh escapes his lip, louder than he means it to. What kind of man has a lobby?

Still, he manages a genuine, appreciative smile at Charlotte.

“Not out of line at all. I like it when people compliment my work,” he comments casually, smirking. It lacks conviction, though- Charlotte is not wrong, necessarily, but more than likely sugar coating it for his sake. Overwatch was a perpetual mess. But if it looked like a functioning machine from the outside, then at least he was doing his job.

“And yet, they do- personally, if it weren’t for the legal ramifications, I think they would probably ask me for my firstborn son. Or maybe my soul. What’s left of it, anyway.”

[seventysixes]

You’re one of those heroes, aren’t you?

[seventysixes]

“Gabriel..?”

[seventysixes]

3 sentence drabble, jack and gabe, dragon age au AGAIN, THANKS

3 sentence fics || open 5ever

                                                                    It’s too soon.

The nightmares keep Gabriel up at night- in dreams he is haunted by visions of horror and eldritch whispers the likes of which are too terrible to speak of; he goes days on end without sleep.

                                                                 I’m not ready.

He does not need to consult the others to know The Calling is upon him; the swan song of the Wardens- a bid to enter the Deep Roads and perish, lest he be consumed by the taint in his blood.

He does not tell Jack- cannot tell him; he refuses to infect their remaining time together with the knowledge that each kiss between them could be their last.

                                                I’m not going to leave you just yet.

[seventysixes]

3 sentence drabble, jack and gabe, dragon age au

3 sentence fics || open 5ever

If ever there were evidence for proof of the Andrastians’Maker, it was him; beautiful glittering-gold against the drab grey backdrop of Ferelden and divinity in every single thing he does. 

Gabriel Reyes is hardly a religious man, but the way Jack looks at him in the dead of night when the two are alone- the way those blue eyes pierce him like biting steel through cloth- makes him sing the praises for a Maker he’s never known. 

Glory, glory, glory to the Maker for sending Jack to this poor Rivaini man, so that Gabriel might hold his unending vigil in the company of one so hallowed that kissing him is like touching the heavens themselves.

[seventysixes]

                                   darling boy, your shoulders may be broad                              but there are only so many crosses you can bear                                                    before you break; 

[seventysixes]

It’s been an Honor…

[seventysixes]

I stood before him and suddenly foresaw the future we would have together. The love, the torment, the rawness, the pain. In that moment, it was like standing on a cliff between a gusty ocean and a scorching desert; I had to choose between a treacherous, lonely journey, or a dark, dangerous one. Was it wiser to risk losing myself in order to find him? Or to let him go and let my loneliness return me to myself?

today’s journal entry, a big step / 2 February 2018 (via lettersfromadreamgirl)