#Charlie writes

[the-ace-with-spades]

So, I imagine that Soap is around 5'11, which is not short at all, even if it seems so if you look at the people he works with.

However, from his whole family, he is the tallest.

His da is 5'8, his brother is 5'9, his sisters are 5'2 and 5'3 and his mam is 5' nothing. To his family, Johnny is not only tall but also overgrown.

(This is also why entering the military was a shock to the system --- Soap was used to being pretty tall if not the tallest person around and then boom, he's smol)

The first time Soap takes Ghost to his family home, he is instantly named a giant. Literally, his mam when she sees him says something along the lines of 'and I thought my boy was a giant' and his da makes the typical joke of 'what does the army feed you?' and one of Soap's sister says she 'woulda climb him like a tree too if she had the chance' and his brother goes all 'was gonna give the fella a shovel talk but I think he's too big too bury by myself any case'. Soap is so embarrassed by them but Ghost is awkwardly shy anytime his height is pointed out.

On top of it, he tries to help Soap's mam in the kitchen (I like to think he likes to cook) and there is the comical image of her, standing there tiny at 5'0 and Ghost towering over her at 6'3 or 6'4 (Soap's not sure, Simon slouches often) and trailing behind her as she orders him around. There's literally a moment when she goes to grab herself a step ladder to reach something on the top shelf and Ghost just stretches his arm a bit and gets it for her. She might or might not ask if he can dust the cobwebs from the corners of the ceilings she can't reach herself. (Ghost dusts the cobwebs, duh, even if Johnny can't snicker at him enough).

Johnny's brother uses Ghost's height to make his kid eat his veggies, 'if you eat your veggies, you're going to grow as tall as him'. Ghost goes along with it.

The kids in general treat him like a walking jungle gym --- especially because he's not only tall but also strong enough to function as a walking jungle gym. One of Soap's nieces who used to love piggyback rides from him now insists Ghost has to be the one because he makes her feel taller than Soap does.

They're supposed to sleep in Soap's childhood bedroom and Soap's da brings in an ottoman and a couple of pillows so Ghost's feet 'don't stick out'. Soap laughs it off until he realizes that Ghost's feet would, in fact, stick out from his tiny double bed if he slept straightened out.

[charlieisannoying]

A perfect case for my certain skillset

Part 1 | Next Chapter >

Platonic CF 99 X Jedi!GNReader Summary: Clone Force 99 is getting a Jedi, as if that could ever work out for the band of misfits. The worst thing? They're not even getting a General. First meetings will always go a little sideways, but the Force will right things in the end (Or so Hunter is told.) Word Count: 2,215

Hunter was tired.

He could feel a headache slowly blossoming under his skull, burrowing itself deeper and deeper, setting alight every nerve–

This was not the right moment for this. He had a mission to do.

It was simple, really.

They haven't been on the field that long anyways and they were a special case anyways. Their assignments, although they wrecked absolute havoc on the world around them were successes. They were still tasting the small bits of freedom between each missions, still overwhelmed with the fact that this was their life – the four of them against the world. While their... fondness over the regs was tested each and every time they came in contact with them, Commander Cody was a special case.

Even Crosshair was silent around that man, his snark nowhere to be found.

So when Commander Cody had commed him, letting him know that his pack, his own Clone Force 99, was supposed to get a handler... Well, Hunter was glad he wasn't alone when he received the news. He did not want to be the one to break the news to his brothers.

Still.

Getting a Jedi General was something even he was supposed to get used to.

It's not that he didn't want a superior officer or that he didn't like Jedi (although, truth to be told his experiences with other Jedi that Master Ti were rather... closer to 0 than any other number), but...

... he wanted to keep his brothers safe, close to himself and only himself. He heard through the ever evolving vod grape-vine that the Jedi were kind and understanding and they were all normal beings, not gods. His mind told him he was exaggerating, that it was in his very nature to protect his brothers...

But would his Jedi not only understand, but also listen to Tech's need to always fix something and explain and research? Will they leave Crosshair be and just exist in the presence of his brothers after a particular rough mission? Will they see how smart Wrecker is or will they just see his bulk and write him off.

Well. Clones were nothing if not adaptable.

'You don't have to be nervous about it.'

Cody's eyes were kind when he said it. They also seemed sad, but that couldn't possibly be true. Commanders knew how and when to say things. Commanders gave orders that no other clone could. Commanders swallowed their grief.

'I am not in the position to reveal anything but...' the Commander's nose flared and he bit on the inside of his cheek, as if searching for the right words. '...this assignment of the Jedi to your batch is more for the well being of themselves than a punishment to you boys.'

As if.

Look, Hunter could agree that their plans were wild, reckless and often enough sputtered into nothingness as soon as a mission started. But they accomplished their missions. They always were successful.

But siccing a Jedi on them?

This would never solve their... creative solutions for their already dangerous missions.

'When should we expect to report under our Jedi then, sir?' Tech's voice was crisp and perfectly measured, skilfully hiding how he felt in that moment from everybody. Well, everybody except Hunter. He could hear Tech's heartbeat skip in a pretty concerning way every so often and could start smelling his anxieties over the matter.

At that question, Cody allowed himself once grimace.

'That's your first job. Your Jedi Commander has... left our ship without telling us where they were going and we were called to aid the 501st.' What? Hunter's impending headache must have messed up his hearing, because why would a Jedi just... leave? Cody continued on, bringing Hunter back to the briefing. 'Their comm was last online in one of the lower levels of the city. It would be wise to check first some of the bars without attracting any unwanted attention.'

Lower levels? Bars? It seemed that all of his brothers were having the same reaction because they all had the what in Prime's tits is doing their Jedi in a bar face.

Something must have taken the Commanders attention away from them and their bewildered faces, because he didn't comment on their lack of response. Before he closed, he did wish them good luck, and that must have meant something, right?

By the sound of Tech's tapping on his data pad, Hunter was sure that every tidbit of information over their Jedi would be soon in their hands. He could always count on his brother's

'Wait, what did he mean by Jedi Commander?'

—

His headache was definetly getting worse.

This was the fifth? Or was it the sixth bar they searched? The vibrations of the bass and drums sent painful spikes from his skull down to his finger tips. This was promising some very painful next few days. And if they wouldn't find thei Jedi, his headache will become even worse and then Crosshair will see it, because of course the little shit was just as observant as his eyesight was perfect and–

'I just say we leave this damn Jedi find us instead. We're soldiers, not babysitters.'

Ah, kark it.

This was absolutely perfect. Now he also got Crosshairs snark to add of the things that were annoying him in that moment.

The lights were blinding him.

The music was getting louder and louder and he couldn't think, his brother's arm on his shoulder was like sand paper on his skin, although he had both his blacks and his armour on and why was the music so karking loud–

'You okay there buddy?'

If Hunter was at his peak he would notice that you were holding a fuzzy, colorful drink in your hands, the type that would come with small umbrellas and would wreck anyone in two gulps. Except he couldn't smell the alcohol. At all.

Your clothes seemingly resembled Jedi robes, the teal outer robes mixing with a tan tunic and brown pants. Small dots littered your sleeves, as if they were painstakingly embroidered, slowly combating the simpleness of normal Jedi apparel. Your hair was stuck to your forehead as if you'd been jumping the whole night and your eyes–

Maker, your eyes.

He could say that they were pretty because they were surrounded by blue glitter, and lined with black as if you were trying to capture everyone around you. You didn't break contact with him, as if trying to scan and read and see right through him, a small glint in your eyes indicating nothing but trouble.

But no.

Your eyes were sad. As if you knew something he didn't, as if you've lost and lost and lost, and you couldn't quite believe that you won't lose again. Hunter just wanted to bundle you up and take you far away from the war that just takes from beings.

Where were these thoughts coming from?

There was something else.

All he could focus was that the sounds were...gone. All those terrible sounds that were scratching the inside of his brain did not make him want to keel over and cover his ears.

He could still hear his brother's heartbeats, Tech's tapping, Crosshair grinding his teeth over another toothpick (where was he getting them??) and Wreckers fiddling with bits of an explosive.

Even those accursed lights seemed dimmed.

'You with me, Sarge?' Your brows were furrowed, as if you were trying to read him. And in the end, who even were you, why would you care–

Oh.

You were his Jedi. Were you the reason this place was more bearable now? Could the force even do that?

Wrecker snorted. Wait, why was Wrecker laughing?

That weird glint returned to your face, a small smile pulling over your lips. 'It's a Force Bubble. Helps me with my own migraines, and I though it would help you too.' You continued, the frown making an appearance once again. 'You were projecting your pain quite...hm...strongly across the lower levels. And anyways, what is Clone Force 99 doing here? We were supposed to meet tomorrow.'

Did he say that out loud?

That admittedly subdued headache was going to be the end of him.

'Technically, it is tomorrow.' Tech's voice was a bit harsh, not like his usual calm and calculated cadence. Were his brothers also starting to feel the simmering anger rising? They were out there, trying to find them, and... what? Their Jedi thought that giving Hunter a small respite would fix everything?

Before his thoughts could spiral even further, you had the decency to look... not ashamed, but guilty.

'Ah, my apologies then. I just wanted to...' You mulled over your words, trying to find the perfect one. You seemed to do that a lot, as if being able to choose your own words was something new, something not yet experienced. '...well, just be a Jedi for one more night and not a Commander.' You're eyes crinkled slightly as you smiled, as if laughing at a joke.

Hunter wasn't aware Jedi's sense of humour was so subtle. In fact, he heard quite the opposite from various other Commanders. Returning his attention back to you, you seemed to be already thinking about something else. Your face was already angled towards the back of the bar, where a small raised platform was created. A guitar was nestled against a box pretending to be a stool. A microphone completed the set, as if beaconing courageous drunks to sing something.

It seemed not only Hunter noticed your divided attention.

'Something else you've got to do, Jedi?' Kark Crosshair and his big mouth. Hunter was not in the mood to fight a decommission report to save his dear, dear brother. His headache was threatening to become a migraine once again.

This seemed to catch your attention once again. Shoulders pulled back, the blue robes did not seem to swallow you anymore. A small quirk of your eyebrow betrayed your amusement.

'You've crashed my set, actually. You guys are not exactly low profile.' Set? Did you sing? Is that your drink was all for show? All sadness was gone for a moment from your eyes, a fierce glint taking its place. 'I'm sorry you're tired and cranky... Crosshair, is it? So why don't you get a nice little drink from the bar and enjoy the show, yes?' Paired with a sweet little smile, you took your leave towards the makeshift stage, blue robes trailing like a blaze behind you.

This did not feel like getting a handler anymore.

This was going to get much, much worse.

—

Despite his worse fears, no decommission request landed in Hunter's pile of folders or in his inbox. After the incident at the bar, Crosshair finally fell silent, which meant that Hunter was free to fall into blissful sleep in their barracks. They did not stay to see you perform, much to Wrecker's dismay, but he was sure Tech already sliced through the bars shoddy footage, only to satisfy his curiosity, if nothing else.

You took the closed quarters of the Marauder in stride, your face betraying nothing. Your heartbeat though...? Well, that told Hunter everything he needed.

It seemed that not only Clone Force 99 was anxious about this change.

'Anything I should steer clear off?' You're eyes were still darting around, as if you were taking it all in. Your question though, it warmed Hunter somehow. He knew viewed clones as people, but other nat-borns had other ideas, that were not nicely viewed in the GAR.

'Our lives?'

Even with his back turned around the momentarily least favourite brother, he could feel Crosshairs sneer.

Before even taking a breath to reprimand Crosshair again in less that 24 hours, Wreckers boisterous voice bounced against the ship's walls.

'HA, as if you could beat a Jedi, Cross.' Wrecker's huge form seemed to eclipse you for just a moment, before draping an arm around your shoulders. You seemed to dip a bit, before finding your footing and righting yourself again, without shrugging Wrecker off. This seemed to encourage Wrecker, as he quickly continued, a sharp grin forming on his face.

'Technically, don't touch anything of Crosshair's. Don't mess up my workspace.' Tech's eyes were glued to his data pad, but his finger was pointing to various parts of the ship.

Thank you, Tech and your perfect interruptions.

You're impassive face was slowly breaking apart, your cheeks twitching slightly. Even your heartbeat seemed to slow down, and you even seemed to lean more and more into Wrecker, as if you were leeching his body heat. You risked a glance towards Hunter, but quickly looked away when you noticed him analysing you.

He wondered if you were going to burst from trying to keep in your laugh.

'You can always take Lula!' Reaching towards his bunk, Wrecker dragged you along a bit, without realising that you were still somewhat trapped underneath his arm. He offered you the tooka doll, and Hunter really hoped this was not the moment Wrecker will get heartbroken from your response.

A genuine smile lighted up your face instead.

'Thank you.'

If it weren't for the proximity alarm going off in the cockpit, Hunter was sure of there was more to be said.

For now, they all had one job.

Complete the mission.

Next Chapter >

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Attached at the Hip

Steddie!Dads

Notes: ok I kind of ran away with this but basically: girldad!techer!Steve (also little league coach) and boydad!mechanic Eddie having kids who are besties and both of them are sick of the heteronormative bullshit other parents at the school put on their kiddos

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses dangling from his other hand, as the first grade classroom reached a fever pitch. The excitement for the first day of nice weather was clear, and recess was just a few short minutes away. The kids were supposed to be having free work time, but they had all gathered around the windows watching the kindergarteners play. There were complaints about the “babies” tearing up the nice new mulch and excited squeals about the colorful equipment that had been added to parts of the playground in a much needed renovation two weekends before. Only a few of the kids were actually doing work. Connor Munson was one of them, sitting quietly in the corner reading a fantasy book that was probably several grades higher than the average reading level in the class. 

“Alright kids, one you were just like those ‘babies’ last year and two its independent work time and you should be doing something quietly in the classroom for the next fifteen minutes. I know we are all excited, but we need to finish up the morning before we can run around.” With several annoyed huffs, the kids found their way to the small tables or on comfy spots on the floor. many took up reading, but a few pulled out some materials to do other things and Steve’s head stopped throbbing as he watched them return to a hum of excitement rather than the reverberating yelling from before. 

The first and second graders raced onto the playground, immediately swarming towards the new equipment and the screaming started almost right away. Steve and the rest of the teachers were clumped in a few different spots to ensure full coverage of the playground, quietly chatting. 

“Daddy!” Steve turned his attention to the little blonde who was running full speed, knowing he would catch her into a big tight squeeze. Claire giggled, pressing her face into his shirt. 

“Did you have a good morning?” She nodded as he set her down. 

“I told everyone how you let me bring leftover pizza for lunch!” Steve let out a chuckle, as did the other first grade teacher, Claire’s teacher in fact. 

“Well why don’t you go play. I think Connor went over that way.” Steve gestured in the direction he had seen the little boy go towards and she gave his leg a tight squeeze before skipping off. 

“Oh those two, attached at the hip. They’re an adorable little couple.” Steve tried not to let the cringe show on his face, just plastered on a little smile to keep the peace and made up an excuse to check another part of the playground. It had been going on for two years, the commentary. Connor and Claire, attached at the hip, then immediately to couple. It enraged him, and he knew it made Connor’s father angry too. The heteronormative bullshit had been pushed on Steve throughout his lifetime too, forcing it to take years longer than it should have for him to realize he definitely didn’t only like girls. He did his best with Claire at home. She knew he went on dates with both women and men, and she adored her Aunt Robin and Auntie Nancy, but Steve could see that the six year olds heard the comments. 

The rest of the day came and went. He also ate leftover pizza for lunch, not because he was such a fantastic father, but he hadn’t made it to the grocery store this weekend while he was preparing for the soccer little league. Connor loved soccer, Claire did not, but the girl still did it and Steve appreciated, maybe a little too much, the fact that Eddie Munson would be there every weekend, right where Steve could ogle him without making a playdate excuse.

“Cooooonnooooooooor.” The loud voice cut through Steve’s lack of focus and he looked up to where Eddie Munson appeared, wearing a slightly grease stained shirt, his hair tied up behind his head in, what Robin said was, a messy bun. The little boy who had been sitting beside Steve and Claire leapt out of his spot and ran to his dad, tossed into the air and then squeezed into a tight hug. 

“Hi dad.” Steve stood up, sticking out his hand for a shake as Eddie came over. 

“How was my boy today?” 

“A little angel as always,” Steve laughed, handing him Connor’s backpack. Claire had stood up too. It was a little routine they had, Steve staying after with the kids so that Eddie could finish his shift. There were a number of kids that had parents who couldn’t pick them up at 3 on the dot, since they had shifts that ended on the hour of the half hour, and with Claire and Connor wanting to spend time together, Steve had never had a problem being the teacher who stayed. And if it meant he got to see Eddie Munson one more day of the week, well five more, well no one had to know that. 

“We’re still on for this weekend?” Eddie’s eyes had gone soft and Steve did a quick look around, all of the rest of the kids and parents had gone. He gave Eddie a smile reserved only for him. 

“Always.” Sure their kids might be attached at the hip, but not because of some stupid expectation that they would fall in love when they were older, more because they were practically siblings at this point. 

[jenseclaren]

Jenson and Sebastian are getting married and Nico helps with planning but the happy couple is scheming behind Nico’s back

The kitchen table in Jenson and Sebastian's apartment was filled with wedding stuff. Examples for invitations, samples for cakes, pictures of flowers. Ever since Jenson proposed and Sebastian decided that he didn't want to wait long before getting married, the table had been in that state.

Nico was sitting on top of the counter with a glass of white wine in his hand. He was already done with the undecidedness of the couple. He was beginning to regret his decision to help them with planning.

He assumed when Jenson asked him for help, he would only deal with best man stuff. What he had in mind was helping Jenson with an outfit or planning the bachelor party. He quickly realised he was there to make final decisions because both Sebastian and Jenson were impossible.

‘’We can’t have red roses at a pastel themed wedding!’’ Sebastian exclaimed, Nico chuckled into his wine. Jenson rolled his eyes, ‘’But they’re classic!’’ he resisted his fiance. Nico chuckled once again, finished his wine and jumped down from the counter.

‘’Seb is right.’’ Nico said, opening the fridge. He wasn’t even looking at the couple but he could paint a picture of Jenson’s face accurately. Offended but not enough to argue.

‘’Even Nico agrees with me and he never does!’’ Sebastian said dramatically to prove his point. Nico shrugged and joined them around the table with a new glass of wine.

‘’You’re supposed to be on my side!’’ Jenson screeched with a grin on his face, Seb started laughing and rested his head on his fiance’s shoulder. Nico shrugged again and pouted, ‘’I’m on nobody’s side, I’m neutral, like Switzerland.’’ he said.

‘’We need to move on from flowers anyway, invitation list is priority.’’ Nico continued, he didn’t wanna be this bossy when it was their wedding but he had no choice. Jenson and Seb’s understanding of wedding planning was strictly flirting, no planning.

‘’Also I got confirmation from the reception venue.’’ Nico added, his smile grew with the sight of the couple cheering and kissing each other in celebration. A fast wedding meant it was hard to get venues.

Sebastian pulled the list of people they could potentially invite but since they decided on a strictly close friends and family wedding, the list of names had to decrease drastically. Nico didn’t even realise how many people his friends knew since he felt like he knew everybody in their lives.

Jenson tilted his head so he could see the names, Nico was just sitting across them sipping his wine. He was examining the invitation card they had chosen, that one they actually needed none of Nico’s help, it was a clear decision.

Nico had gotten distracted and was not at all following the couple’s conversation on whether colleagues should be invited or not. Until he heard that name, Lewis. He flinched as the familiar name they had been avoiding for a year filled his ears again. He looked up, Seb and Jenson were staring at him. Only now noticing that they hadn’t avoided the name like they always did.

‘’He’s coming?’’ Nico asked, the couple looked at each other not knowing how to respond. ‘’Yeah.’’ Sebastian said, Nico knew Seb and Jenson were still in contact with Lewis. Sebastian and Lewis always had been close, they were even flatmates before Sebastian moved in with Jenson.

‘’For sure?’’ Nico asked, he didn’t even know what he wanted to hear. Lewis was his childhood best friend, his partner in crime for twenty years. Maybe he overreacted when he decided to move abroad but it hurt Nico so much he didn’t know what was an appropriate reaction.

He had never lived more than thirty minutes away from Lewis and now he was hours away. He didn’t even mean to cut contact after he moved away, it just happened. There was no bad blood, just haunting silence.

One last hug at the airport, few updates the first few weeks and then silence. Nico had made it about himself, Lewis seeking out an opportunity. He had tried to guilt Lewis, telling him he was leaving him alone. Both of them knew it wasn’t true. It was just that when the same person was by your side at all times, the sudden distance made him lonelier than he was.

Nico felt like Lewis moving meant that he was never as important to Lewis as Lewis was to him. It all was very unfortunate. How even though they tried to keep the connection like Lewis and Sebastian did, they were terrible at it. It didn’t feel the same, so they went silent.

What came next was Seb and Jenson stopping the updates they gave on Lewis to Nico. It was too painful for him, remembering what he lost. Then the name became a taboo, even shared memories and inside jokes disappeared.

While this was happening on Nico’s side, Jenson and Sebastian were trying to keep their friendship alive with both. The friend group impossible to separate had been separated. Nico knew this day would come, the day he would come back. It had been almost exactly a year since Lewis left, Nico no longer was angry at him for moving. He was just mourning the friendship he had. Nico missed Lewis, Jenson and Sebastian had been there when he was acting like he wasn’t hurting.

‘’Yeah, just talked to him this morning.’’ Sebastian clarified, Jenson was trying to read Nico but he had no expression sitting on his face. It was worrying because even though he was the kind of person to hide feelings, it had never been the case when it was about Lewis.

Nico nodded silently, ‘’Cool’’ he said and chugged the glass of wine sitting in front of him. He got out of his chair, without saying anything and went to the bathroom.

Seb immediately turned to Jenson. “Too strong feelings for a best friend.” he commented, Jenson nodded. It had always been an unspoken inside joke between the couple, how they thought Lewis and Nico would end up together.

“This is our chance.” Sebastian continued, Jenson raised his eyebrows. “A wedding is a perfect opportunity.” he further explained, Jenson tilted his head.

Jenson looked confused, “What?” he asked. Seb chuckled and put his one hand on his fiance’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna get them together.” Seb said, Jenson was more confused because whatever Sebastian was saying just didn’t go through his head.

“But they haven’t even talked in a year.” Jenson said, Seb smiled big. “Yes!” he cheered, Jenson didn’t understand what was so good about that statement.

“They’ve been both longing for each other for a year!” Seb said, Jenson for once felt like he was the wise one in the relationship.

“You know both, this can backfire easily.” Jenson said, Sebastian just nodded. “If we make sure that the wedding is not the first time they see each other, they will break the ice and the wedding can perform its magic.” Seb explained. Jenson wasn’t sold.

“I feel like we changed roles.” he said and Sebastian laughed. “Yeah a bit.” he smiled and gave Jenson a kiss on the cheek.

But you might have a point.” Jenson raised his eyebrows again, Sebastian smiled. “The bachelor parties, after a certain hour we can mesh them, almost all our friends are mutual anyway.” Sebastian said, Jenson nodded in agreement.

“That could work but Nico is planning my party, Kimi is planning yours.” Jenson reminded, Seb forgot about that detail and pouted.

“Then we will improvise on the day.” Sebastian said, Jenson nodded just because he didn’t have any counter agreements.

It was kind of funny how they were both so excited about getting married but the planning part was not fun for either of them. They just wanted to get on with it. Thank god Nico was a control freak that they could get away with it. He knew both of them enough to make the right decisions anyway.

“Will it be that simple?” Jenson asked, Seb shrugged, not knowing what to say. “We can hope so.” he said, Jenson pouted.

“Let’s hope so.” Jenson said right when Nico came back to the kitchen. “Hope what?” he asked, curious as always.

“Uhh.” Jenson panicked, Sebastian was quick to come to his rescue. “Kimi planning my bachelor party.” Seb said, Jenson left a suspicious kiss on his cheek as a thank you.

Nico wasn’t sold but he didn’t feel like digging in too deep. The conversation went back to the guest list, the topic of Lewis wasn’t brought back again.

Jenson and Sebastian were sure that their plan was going to work. It would be such a shame if all the love they had got wasted on miscommunication.

[charliemwrites]

I’ve been writing for the COD fandom for a month (two?) now but haven’t been advertising it because uhhhhhh I’m out of practice.

Anyway, spooky season, serial killer au, threesome, etc.

[charliextea]

Chapters: 1/9 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders Characters: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani, Sleep | Remy Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders Additional Tags: All romantic tags are BACKGROUND, main relationship is the creativitwins, depictions of verbal and emotional abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Model!Roman, Former Model!Remus, secret coffee shop au, Barista!Virgil, Dissociation, dissociated character, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Closeted Character, Suggestive Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dick Jokes, supportive!Remus, closeted!roman, Abusive Parents, Therapy, Healing, Unsympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Cussing Summary:

Roman King was thriving. He was 6 years into a solo career as a model. He was about to sign a huge deal that would win him critical acclaim, but there's one problem. His past has come back to haunt him. 3 years ago, Remus King, Roman's brother and former modeling partner, disappeared from the tabloids entirely after a too-public stint in rehab, and no one has seen him since. Until one day, Janus Dee published an article that he claimed would tell all about Remus' abusive childhood at the hands of the child star scene. And Roman gets caught in the crossfires. To try to undo the damage that has been done, and keep his career from imploding, Roman has to go and see his brother in a middle-of-nowhere town and try to get him to recant his statement. But the first time they see each other again erupts into a furious argument. Neither of them is really sure if they're ready to see each other again, but the cat is out of the bag, the can of worms is open, and two siblings who have been pitted against each other since birth just can't let this go without a fight. Only this time, they'll be fighting to stay together. For real this time. The brothers they would've been if not for their... career.

[alsofortheb0ys]

I love angst and Homelander so I really wanted to write a series on it! I'm very sorry my writing is not very good cause English is hard and I'm not really used to writing long fics but I want to start so I'm sorry if it cuts off weirds. Also I didn't proofread so lol :) ENJOY!

Homelander never felt right. Like something was missing.

Well, there was so many things missing. Parents, family, childhood, normalcy, companionship, love.

Nothing could fill the feeling of gnawing emptiness.

There were moments that made him forget. But they were just that: calm for a moment.

Sex filled the void but once a quick high faded the emptiness returned. Deep down he knew that sex didn't mean love. That people slept with either cause they were too scared to say no or they did it to manipulate him.

Fame gave him a sense of worth but knew that his fans only loved his superficial self. They wouldn't love him if they knew how he truly was. Homelander wasn't a complete idiot, he knew he had done things that most would consider morally wrong.

Their cheers drowned out the feelings of painful lonely but once again it was short lived.

Scrolling through social media and seeing the outstanding amounts of praising comments made his happiness sky rocket but once he saw the single hate comments made it crash straight to the ground.

You did nothing wrong be wanted to be treated with love.

The human part of himself speaks. The other part, the one in the mirror calls him a child. Calls him needy.

You're weak. A pathetic excuse.

It whispers.

It's love that makes him weak.

He promised himself to get rid of the burdensome dreams of belonging but most nights he laid awake in his cold bed in his characterless room that felt more like a prison that his home. There was no decorations to his taste. Just an overwhelming coldness.

He layed tears streaming down his face. The other him looks down in disgust from the mirror above his bed that was too large for just him.

Again with the crying. It gets you NOWHERE!

Homelander wishes he were like the man in the mirror, so numb to the pain. No tears ever touched his face. No emptiness that rips through his heart. No loneliness overtook him.

No part to feel human.

Homelander remembers when in a moment of weakness, he brought up to the Madelyn how he felt alone. She tried easing his mind by telling him that he was a god. That he had the whole of his devoted followers, Vought and her surrounding him.

Gods weren't lonely.

She than precedes to give him the quickest handjob he's ever had.

Once Homelander's head cleared he was all but he wasn't assured. That their love was only so deep. Sex, manipulation, control.

To try his best to achieve that, Homelander shoved every crippling emotion as deep down as he could.

Till it came back just to overwhelm him. To combat those feelings his brain would just shut off, making him numb. So numb, he'd sometimes blank. His memories fuzzy.

He always made the worse decisions when it happened. It was when he killed Madelyn or when he made that girl jump off a roof after he found out Stormfront took her own left.

Homelander, for the most part liked feeling the numbness. Made him feel nothing and that meant no pain. No loneliness. No anger.

Absolutely nothing.

But part of him had fear of what he could do if he blanked. He had no one he really cared for after Madelyn and Stormfront died so he had no one to worry about hurting.

Well, all but one person.

Ryan, his precious son.

Once, Homelander was sitting with Ryan by his side building a new Lego Star Wars set. He was happy just talking with him and enjoying their father son time.

Homelander became so overwhelmed thinking how his life would have been if Soldier Boy had been in his life. Would he have love him that same as Homelander did for Ryan?

Homelander's chest tightened. His breathing labored.

His mind went dark and the next thing he remembers is standing in an alley covered in blood but no bodies to be found. Fearing he had hurt Ryan, he flew quickly to Vought tower.

He felt his eyes prick up with tears and did nothing to stop them.

You hurt him didn't you?

The other him spoke.

Homelander flew as fast as he ever did but it was like time stopped.

As he step into his apartment, Homelander's heart beat quickened even more.

No sign of blood and he didn't smell any. Only the blood on his now soaked uniform. He quickly used his x-ray vision to scan the large floorplan.

Homelander breathed a sign of relief, seeing Ryan asleep in his bed. His chest slowly falling up and down, no signs of injury on him.

Homelander was unsure how his son was put to bed but at the moment it was the least of his cares.

He entered in Ryan's room, crying even more now just knowing he's safe. Homelander gentlely pulled the sleeping boy into his arms and into his lap.

Though Homelander was careful not to wake him, Ryan awoke to the sudden movement and the sound of his father sobbing.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, buddy. Dad loves you, you know that?"

Homelander let out a weak sob as his touched his son's cheek, double checking he didn't hurt him.

Though Ryan was confused, he saw the fear in his father's eyes and said nothing, only pulling him into a hug.

"I do. And I love you, dad."

With that Homelander began to sob even farther and soon crying himself to sleep with Ryan still in his arms.

The night Homelander fell asleep to a feeling that felt so unfamiliar. That time he let himself feel loved.

He knew it the feeling would fade in the morning but for now he let Ryan's steady breathing calm his mind.

[aheartshapedgun]

two tickets to paradise (2/3)

a/n: i made it, guys! i finally updated this 🥺

ship: maya bishop/carina deluca

summary maya and carina get to indulge in a short but amazing honeymoon.

•••

When Carina entered the living room, she was wearing a denim jacket over a tasseled white flowing top, reminiscent of the sixties, but the denim offered an edge. The black pleated skirt was a good match for the upper part of her outfit, and a pair of cream-colored flats clung to her feet.

She found Maya lying on the couch, one arm hanging loose and relaxed across her torso, the other slung lazily behind her head. Her hair fell gently over her face, framing it like a perfect portrait. Immediately noticing her wife, Maya took in her appearance, looking Carina up and down with admiration. Then her focus shifted to Carina's eyes.

Carina could feel her cheeks flush. "I wasn't sure what to wear, so—" The way one side of Maya's mouth curled up was a sign that Maya was aware of her silence.

» read more on AO3

[the-ace-with-spades]

A sitcom-like/humour fic AU where Bradley's papers haven't been pulled and he does land in USNA but he's doing everything and anything not to be labeled as the nepo baby even though he definitely is a nepo baby

This would include:

- Bradley knowing things he isn't supposed to know as a first year (plebe?) because he had inside sources (Ice and Slider) and things didn't change much

- Every single person from the personnel knowing who he is and Bradley ditching attempts to use him as a stepping ladder to meet Ice and/or Mav

- Having to listen to his crush (Hangman) making whole odes about his old man (either Mav or Ice, you pick)

- Pretending he doesn't know Slider when he comes to visit as a 'guest speaker', including when Slider tries to speaks to him, making Slider seem crazy

- Lying to everyone that he had a family emergency and that's why he was gone the last two weeks of summer training when in reality Ice pulled him out because he wanted to take him and Mav to the seaside somewhere in Europe

- When they get an opportunity to get a pilot licence along their studies, he fakes ignorance and signs up again (despite already having a pilot licence) and then demolishes everyone and gets banned from flying in the training group (*cough* Mav's influence *cough*)

- Doing the craziest mental summersaults and pretending he didn't know who Ice was when he was driving him back to the Academy and talking to him at the meet point and people saw ("Oh was that Admiral Kazansky? I thought he'd be taller")

- Hangman: So what your parents do for a living? Rooster: My dad works admin (there's a lot of paperwork when you're an admiral) and the other one is switching to research (testing planes kinda is research)

- After Ice's impromptu visit (poor Ice has the empty nest syndrome...) - some of his classmates gossiping: Did you hear that apparently the Iceman is gay? Bradley, with a fake pikachu face, even though he had literally helped Mav choose the engagement ring for Ice: Nah, not possible.

- Also, Bradley knowing that telling Jake would impress him so much but feeling absolutely physically ill whenever he thinks why and ending up not telling Jake for years (like, up until a dinner before graduation when Jake the Boyfriend gets asked to dinner and brings the Iceman a discounted pot plant that's half dying as the meet-the-parents gift and promptly has an anxiety attack on the front porch when Bradley does tell him)

- Bradley making elaborate excuses why Mav and Ice can't meet his academy friends when they're staying close to their home, to the point Mav starts thinking he's embarrassed by them

There was something else that I'm forgetting rn so might add more later

[charlieisannoying]

Small snippet on something I'm working on – it will focus on a GN Jedi getting assigned to CF99. I think I'll have a chapter written from the perspective from each member. Enjoy!

Hunter was tired. He could feel a headache slowly blossoming under his skull, burrowing itself deeper and deeper, setting alight every nerve– This was not the right moment for this. He had a mission to do. It was simple, really. They haven't been on the field that long anyways and they were a special case anyways. Their assignments, although they wrecked absolute havoc on the world around them were successes. They were still tasting the small bits of freedom between each missions, still overwhelmed with the fact that this was their life – the four of them against the world. While their... fondness over the regs was tested each and every time they came in contact with them, Commander Cody was a special case. Even Crosshair was silent around that man, his snark nowhere to be found. So when Commander Cody had commed him, letting him know that his pack, his own Clone Force 99, was supposed to get a handler... Well, Hunter was glad he wasn't alone when he received the news. He did not want to be the one to break the news to his brothers. Still. Getting a Jedi General was something even he was supposed to get used to. It's not that he didn't want a superior officer or that he didn't like Jedi (although, truth to be told his experiences with other Jedi that Master Ti were rather... closer to 0 than any other number), but... ... he wanted to keep his brothers safe, close to himself and only himself. He heard through the ever evolving vod grape-vine that the Jedi were kind and understanding and they were all normal beings, not gods. His mind told him he was exaggerating, that it was in his very nature to protect his brothers... But would his Jedi not only understand, but also listen to Tech's need to always fix something and explain and research? Will they leave Crosshair be and just exist in the presence of his brothers after a particular rough mission? Will they see how smart Wrecker is or will they just see his bulk and write him off. Well. Clones were nothing if not adaptable.

[theonlycharliemoon]

Fight Like Georgia Peaches

Georgia Peaches grow best in the summer,

sun-ripened and golden, hot and fresh-

like new birth or asphalt.

But Georgia Peaches taste best at night,

when the dew has frozen on the leaves-

when the soft flesh has gone pulpy

and it's started to look like rotting meat.

I like to eat them and pretend that my teeth

are sharp enough to bite through the pit.

I've learned it's better to let the juice run

down my arms than for blood to turn

my fingers sticky and raw.

Because Georgia Peaches, like children-

grow better in the summertime.

But children, little peach children-

are fiercer in the night

[jenseclaren]

Jenson is working late at night and Nico can’t stand that he’s overworking himself

It’s late at night but the bedside lamp is still on. Nico has his head on the pillow and the blanket is covering his entire head. He shifts in his spot and suddenly the keyboard clicking has stopped.

Jenson turns his head slightly towards Nico, who’s sleeping next to him. The last thing he wants to wake him up with aggressive typing. The quiet scratching sound of the blanket brushing over the bedsheets has sent him into panic mode.

When Jenson is sure that Nico is still asleep, he gets back to work. His eyes are red from staring at the screen the whole night under dim lights. He is sleep deprived and tired but he can’t afford to sleep. If he doesn’t do enough for that project now, it’s gonna be tight with his other responsibilities.

Jenson is completely focused, not even hearing his own typing. He is almost scared to take his fingertips off the keyboard. He doesn’t even realise that Nico is staring at him with his head still on his pillow.

“God’s sake Jense.” Nico says with a rough voice, quiet but sharp. Jenson flinches with the unexpected voice, he tenses with the realisation that he woke Nico up.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Jenson says softly, his right hands slips from the keyboard to Nico’s tangled hair. He brushes his hair slowly as if he’s putting him back to sleep.

“You need to sleep.” Nico says, ignoring Jenson’s apology completely. He isn’t bothered that he is awoken by keyboard sounds but he can’t stand seeing Jenson losing sleep over work.

“I need to finish this.” Jenson argues, Nico isn’t having any of it. He sits up and moves closer to Jenson. Nico puts his head on Jenson’s shoulder and his hand on his crotch.

“Work like this then.” Nico says, Jenson feels his chest tighten. Jenson swallows audibly and he holds his breath.

“Please, I really need to work.” Jenson argues again, he sounds desperate and Nico hates it. “You don’t even get paid to be working right now, you’re losing sleep for no reason.” Nico argues back, he is over it, he takes his hand back.

“You’re so tired, you can’t even keep your eyes open.” Nico continues, Jenson moves his finger on the touchpad and closes the window open on his laptop.

He hates to admit but Nico is right, he also hates how much it was bothering Nico. He hates making Nico upset especially if it’s something about himself.

“Good boy.” Nico says, enters Jenson’s eyesight with a huge smile. Jenson giggles as he closes his laptop and puts it to the side.

Nico sticks himself on Jenson, “I should’ve known it was all for cuddles.” he comments as he brushes Nico’s hair.

Jenson slides down to a comfortable sleeping position with Nico sliding with him, he is refusing to let Jenson go even if it’s for his own comfort.

Jenson’s head is on the pillow and Jenson’s chest is Nico’s pillow. “Now you can sleep.” Nico says softly, Jenson kisses the top of his head and turns the lamp off at the same time.

They both close their eyes to surrender to sleep fast with the comfort of each other’s touch.

[beyond-the-kitchen]

looking through my fic ideas doc and why the fuck was i writing “but they are two suns burning too close. And suns are made to implode, it’s always just a matter of time.”

[este-bae]

realized i never posted this here but i wrote this a while ago.

[aheartshapedgun]

charlie will you bless our dying souls with share another ilsaethan snippet of yours

Okay okay… my WIPs deserve a little attention.

Here’s one from them being trapped in a jungle:

The humid air was thick with the scent of foliage, and the sounds of unknown creatures surrounded her. The jungle seemed never-ending, a labyrinth of greenery. Hours turned into an entire night, and exhaustion started to gnaw at her. The relentless pursuit of finding Ethan became a test of her resilience. But she refused to give in to the fear that threatened to consume her.

As the first rays of dawn broke through the thick canopy, Ilsa stumbled through high grass growing luxuriantly in the open. Her feet were heavy as though weighed down and each step seemed to take an eternity to complete the cycle. She wondered if she could be in one of those dreams where she never quite reached the place she was headed for. She didn’t even have a real destination. She just wanted to find Ethan. She needed to find him.

Just as she reached the glade, bathed in golden light, Ilsa’s tired eyes recognized the contrast between the green grass and the parachute canopy settled atop the ground, a white flag surrendering to gravity. She had screamed his name into the hot air so many times, her voice had grown coarse and her throat felt like sandpaper. But she couldn't stop calling out for him as her sore feet carried her in rapid fashion toward him.

Hastily, she pulled the canvas away to reveal his slump body. Ethan was out cold, bruised and battered, but she could feel his pulse under her fingertips. It was weak and trembling and barely perceptible but still there. Ilsa used her knife to get him out of the parachute harness, then cradled his head in her lap, brushing aside the dirt and leaves that clung to his face.

"Ethan? Baby? Talk to me. Come on.” She slapped his face. Gently at first, then harder, trying to trigger a response from him. “Open your eyes, honey.” Her voice was soft, before she began shouting at him as she shook him. “Open your fucking eyes. Come on, Ethan. Look at me!” Ilsa twisted her head in agony and sobs came from deep within her. She showered his face with kisses, then leaned her forehead against his and took a deep breath. “This is not how we break up, you hear me? You’re not gonna leave me alone in these bloody bushes.”

“I will never break up with you,” he murmured, waking from his daze. “You think I’m stupid?”

The sound of his voice made Ilsa gasp with relief so intense it nearly swept her off her feet. Pulling back slightly, she looked at him with a grin. “Of course I think you’re stupid,” she whispered, chuckling. Her hands cupped Ethan’s face, her thumbs grazing his cheeks. She sniffed, tears burning her eyes. As she bent down to kiss him, long and hard, they trickled onto his skin.

[the-ace-with-spades]

(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)

Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.

Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.

Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and 

The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.

Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.

(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)

And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.

They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.

When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.

There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.

His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”

“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.

His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.

His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”

Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.

“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”

“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”

It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.

 The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.

The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.

Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too. 

So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner. 

His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.

“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.

“That’s right.”

“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.

Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”

“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.” 

Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”

“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”

The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.

Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”

“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”

Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.

He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.

The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always

“Whit's wrang?”

There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.

Simon takes off the mask.

The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face. 

Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.

Not anymore.

This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.

He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”

Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.

Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year