#Osy grumbles

[curiously-a-dreamer]

[ID: a post and reblog from phaeton-flier on January 22nd 2024:

Everyone knows the greatest victories in the labour movement were caused by strikes planned a week in advance by a random person who put up fliers, this causing every worker to spontaneously not work on the date with zero problems. Organizing sure is easy!

No, no. You don't get it, this last-minute zero-preparation strike was called by one of the children in the Orphan Crushing Machine. That means all of the material concerns are suspended and I get to draw two cards from my deck.

.End ID]

Imagine catching this much attitude because people in the middle of a genocide said “please do whatever you can to disrupt ‘normal’ life and put the focus on our tragedy(you know, the literal genocide)” because you don’t like the suggested actions, even though literally no one has said you personally have to do every single thing suggested.

You are a tar pit.

[victoriaxodus]

I saw a post explaining how to get tumblr to not block your blog from people who aren’t logged in can anyone help me find it?

[writingsteph]

OSI Snippet Sneak Peek

Okay, this last scene of the "short snippet" (lol) has truly gotten away from me. I'm just writing away, letting my brain do it's thing. Here's a sneak peek (not fully edited):

Sam opted to stay in her dad’s office, avoiding her peers in the gym, and distracted herself with her phone while Lucas coached the boys Varsity team. She texted Jack and Tamara and they even planned their next hangout for the weekend. The solidified plans eased some of the fomo she had being away from her best friends. It was during their texting session that Sam received her second message of the day from Brooke.

“Millie dropped Barry and your blanket off at Lucas’ house. They should be in your room. Love you peanut. Hope today went well.”

Jesus Christ Brooke. You sent MILLIE?! But then Sam shuffled in her spot on her dad’s chair at the realization that Millie was already well aware of her comfort items and Brooke knew it too. 

There had been a few times that Millie walked into Brooke’s house only to notice Sam clutching them both while watching tv. Or the one time that Millie had been on a Skype call with Brooke who was sat in her kitchen, and the girl who had just woken up from a nap walked through in the background, her bear hanging in one hand. Millie swore the girl’s thumb was also set in her mouth. To Millie, the more often than not sarcastic and sassy Samantha was such a precious sight when she decided to let down her defenses. The observant assistant realized that Brooke had created a safe space in her home for the troubled child to do just that. For Sam to be the kid she never had the opportunity to be.

That’s why Brooke asked her. Millie already knows you’re such a baby. Sam’s intrusive thought was disrupted by another kind voice who had assured her in the past. Mama’s. 

There's no age limit on what brings us comfort, baby. If your blanket and bear help you feel safe and secure, then that's all that matters. 

Brooke knew you would want them. Even now, she is still being nice to you. 

Remorse sat heavy in her stomach. But another more sick feeling sat heavier. Disgust. With herself. She didn’t deserve her parents. The girl sent her mother a quick text after that, eyes watery, though she couldn’t bring herself to express much, aside from simple gratitude. You don’t deserve their kindness.

Okay. Thank you.

“Champ, have you called your mom yet?” Lucas asked, buckling his seat belt, looking at the pensive child in front of him. Her spirits had lowered. It amazed Lucas how attune a person could be to another. How attune he could be to a child he'd known for so little time. She's yours.

Sam looked away, grabbing at the hem of her shirt. 

“Samantha.” Lucas leveled her with a look, knowing her daughter's nervous tells well,“I thought I told you to call her.”

“I texted her.” Sam grumbled her whine, so much was racing through her head she wasn’t sure what to focus on or do. 

Lucas turned the key in the ignition before turning back around to her tired looking little girl. She needs a nap. She’ll probably go straight to her room and sleep until dinner.  “That’s not the same and you know it. I’ll have you call her later tonight”

“Lucas, what?” Sam exclaimed. She wasn’t ready yet. She was feeling too much to try to confront Brooke about anything. “Come on!” 

“None of that Sam." He hated being firm about this now, but Sam had been choosing avoidance lately and he felt it was time to put his foot down, "You two need to talk.”

Sam huffed and leaned her head against the window while her dad pulled out of the school. You need their comfort. You need Brooke. You motherfucking child! You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it! Another thought interrupted, in the form of Haley’s voice. They love you unconditionally.

Thoughts?

[fumikomiyasaki]

🍓➡ to feed my muse fresh chocolate-dipped strawberries (Jason x Osyron) ✋🏻➡ to give a kiss on the back of the hand (James x Carol) 💃🏻➡ to ask for a dance (Alto x April) ⬅💝 to receive a box of chocolates (Melanie x Fabio) ⬅🌹 to receive a bouquet of flowers (Kyosuke x Emma) ⬅💞 to receive a hug (Pamela x Noboru)

Sorry I went crazy stupid

Valentines prompts

The god layed resting on the same couch he usually had placed before a big view over the sky... looking over the whole dorm like this.. as he heard someone come in he just used a snip of his hand to open the door and see his boyfriend holding a plate of chocolated dipped strawberries.

“Whats the occasion, mortal? Trying to get a favour?”

“You really don’t know what day it is today?”

“Its a tuesday in Winter. One as any other.”

Jason settled the plate down with sigh...

“Man,guess that means I won’t be getting some Valentines gift from you.”

“What is this Valentines you speak of, make sense or do you wanna test my patience again?”

Jason took his phone and showed the god a description of Valentines day...

“I see... a holiday... that mortals need those things I will never understand but... I guess... I can pull up some mercy on you today... as a change.”

The brows of his boyfriend raised hearing that and with a smile he spoke up.

“Well then Osy, how about I give you your gift then personally?”

He took one of the strawberries to feed him one and although he took the first one, on his second attempt the god after eating the strawberry pulled Jason for a kiss in... much to his surprise...

“Your gift is lacking but... I given I couldn’t do one either I let it slight for today...”

For once the god actually showed somewhat a selfreflection... at least that day Jason wouldn’t face his wrath... for now at least.

She was just done with bringing some chocolate for friends as after hearing her phone buzz she exchanged messages with James, who asked her to wait in the courtyard of RSA for him... she took a book to read untill he arrived however there was the usual RSA snobs trying to chat her up and win her affections to bother her... Barry once again among them making her tired and annoyed quickly... untill they heard some odd noises... a sound of galopping?

It was surprising as she saw James arrive on what seems a white horse before her and stop... many student looking confused as he walked up to her and took her hand for a kiss which led her face to be bright red.

“You did last time read a story about a knight taking the princess with him on a horse, I thought maybe for Valentines I could help you make such stories a reality.”

Paying no mind to the other students she walked up to him and pushed a long passionate kiss on him... something that most of them were put away by given they noticed she was off the market. Barry grumbled a little before following them too as she smiled back at James...

“Now then... where are we going, my dear knight?”

“I did have a table at your favourite Restaurant and sadly after that I have to give the horse back.”

Both went up on the horse as she held his arms around him tight, holding him in a hug.

“I love you so much... and I didn’t care if you came on a horse or on your own... I am just happy you are with me. I think I will give you my gifts later... I have a normal one and... someting more personal.”

She smiled at him as he looked back at her before they went of with the horse... leaving only some annoyed male students behind.

“A-alto I can’t.... they will all look at me...”

“Hey if your brother can steal the show so can you... you look so hot when dancing really?”

“H-huh?”

At first it was just supposed to be a normal valentines celebration and Alto dragged April with her to have some fun and let loose yet all the eyes made the Demon nervous and dropping this line made her just more of a blushy mess... at least untill Alto drew her closer and gave her a smirk.

“Come on, I am with you, lets do this together and make them be stunned by our performance.”

The vouch of confidence let her to follow through with her and dance together and as Alto said, they did gain some attention for sure... April with her elegant leg movements, Alto with her energy... it really was like they both tried to steal the show from her brother.... after they where fun, Alto pulled a hand around her hips, seein Aprils fave still bright blushing...

“Told you, you look beautifull there... makes me wanna squeeze you a little.”

“H-hey wait... I am ticklish there... haha...ha...”

After teasing April a little both sat down as Alto continued to drink her juice.

“I really do feel a tad more confident since I am with you.”

“You should... you are hot, got nice legs, tons of hidden talents and are never really boring.”

“Stop it... I am not-”

“What did I say about taking compliments?”

“Fine... you won.”

He was nervous... really nervous... he tried his best with this selfmade chocolate but asking Osyron to help him make it well he was sceptical... the gold hearts and bunny shape on it still had a nice touch but he didn’t even know if Melanie even would like it that much...

He took a deep breath as he tapped on her shoulder.

“Oh Fabio, its good to see you.”

“I... Miss Mel I got y-you this...”

Red and hesitant he offered her the golden box and as she opened it she looked somewhat happy and in awe.

“They look so cute... did you make them yourself?”

“I-I did have a little help of Osyron but... I did try.”

She smiled softly at him and hugged around his waist.

“Thanks for the gift, I actually have something for you as well.”

And so she offered him berry flavoured animal shaped cookies in a bag, his ears wagged in happiness and smiled back at her... as they both ate some of it together and gushed about the flavours he noticed that he accidentally  had layed his hand on hers but as he tried to remove it she stopped him, putting her small hand on his... his face redder than the berries he ate.

He was quite surprised as on that day he opened the door to his room... just to find Emma standing there with a red flower bouquet beaming a smile at him.

“I thought given usually you bring me things to my concerts, on Valentines I pay you back with a nice bouquet, can I come in?”

“Of course.”

She placed the flowers on his table as he closed the dorm.

“You know this dorm can be dangerous... and for you to come by.”

“I am well aware, Kyo... but I wanted to bring these personally... and I did have some things planned for today that we could do together but first...”

She pulled him down by his collar and swiftly put a kiss on his lips, leaving him red and a little breathless...

“Emma...”

“Listen don’t worry about me... I will just steal you away for a while to accompany me on a valentines date and then you can get back to pleasing the dorm leader, alright? I won’t get you into trouble.”

He nodded and then handed her a paper.

“Lets meet in the afternoon, training should be over and I have time untill then, see this as my... Valentines gift for you.”

She looked at the paper recognizing it as lyrics and nodded.

“Thanks Kyo.... lets meet later then.”

After she left he placed the flowers in a pretty vase. Looking at them with a faint smile.

Tetravania was also busy with Amore wings day and writing some letters, some trying costumes... while Pamela made some treats in the kitchen... however as usual the ghost kids caused Chaos and tried to steal all the treats she finished... at least untill Noboru spotted them and shooed them away from the kitchen... in happyness Pamela took a short break on baking and walked up to him giving in him a small hug.

“Pam?!”

“You really are a saving grace sometimes... and here I thought I would never get this done.”

He looked at her and nodded.

“Then how about I try to watch the kitchen untill you are done, you could have asked me before.”

“I didn’t want to bother but... thanks sweetheart.”

Seeing her enjoy this much and put so much effort into baking he didn’t feel bad for not helping the others but instead her... untill she was done and packed all bags, she handed him a small bag as well.

“For me?”

“Of course.... I made it something special given you do help me a lot in this dorm and... see this as my thank you...”

She gave him another hug before going back in the living room, sorting the bags of chocolate... leaving him a bit dumbfounded about it.

[oswald-dreamer]

So I got sick

There mightn't be a post today. However I'm thinking of having a more consistent posting schedule of every other day :0 so there's that

[damejudyhench]

Many thanks to @captastra @strangefable @jumpship90 and @kourumi for your writing prompts from the “touch” meme! They went together really nicely, so I’ve combined them into one fic. I hope you enjoy 😊

the prompts were:

2. Running fingers through hair

16. Massaging them

17. Holding the other’s chin up

32. Caressing the other’s back

34. Washing the other’s body

this is so indulgent to me, it’s sfw but I’m still sitting here like 😳😳😳

tags: canon-typical injury, blood, mention of corporal punishment, bathing kink, lying

Max took forever in the shower. It was a fact of life, a law of nature, as inevitable as gravity. Whether it was a trauma reaction to his time in Tartarus, his determination to prove that if cleanliness was next to Lawfulness then he was the most Lawful person on board, or simple vanity; once he was in there, it was almost impossible to get him out. Nyoka, the newest member of their crew, could pound on the door all she wanted; she might as well be cussing out gravity itself.

So Pearl let him be for longer than she might have, but eventually concern started to nag at her. Max was hurt; a larger than average mantis had caught them unawares while they were scavenging the canyon that lay outside of Stellar Bay. They’d all been left worse for wear, but Max had taken the brunt of it, and he’d staggered back to the Unreliable with his face pale, swearing through gritted teeth as he clutched his arm to his chest in the position of maximal stability that signified a fracture or worse. He might need her help. After a few cautious knocks on the bulkhead, followed by a few less cautious, Pearl used her Captain’s override and pushed inside.

Max rounded on her like a wounded animal cornered in its lair. Shirtless, his injured arm strapped against his chest, his other hand held his razor. His jaw was still more than half covered in shaving foam, and she could see a fine thread of bright red blood trickling down the skin of his throat.

“Yes, I am still using the bathroom! Architect forfend someone on this ship might actually possess any standards of decency…”

Screw him.

“Mind you don’t cut yourself,” she snarled back, and left him to his own devices.

Around five minutes later, as she lay on her bunk scanning through an old data pad, there was a knock at the door. Max stood in the gangway, his towel draped around his neck, a sheepish expression on his face.

“I apologise… and I would appreciate your assistance, Pearl. If you’re not too busy, of course.” His tone was courteous, but his face was tight and drawn, and she knew he must be in pain despite the strapping.

“Any time, Max.”

In the shower, she took the towel and the razor gently from his hand and set them on the sink, then turned to face him. His shoulder was bruised an ugly purple and red, fading to deep brown beneath his collarbone where it was dented and distorted. It looked sore as hell, and Pearl sucked her breath through her teeth in sympathy.

She pushed him gently back until he was sitting on the toilet, then took his canidfeather brush and applied a new coat of lather to his face. She shaved him with slow, even strokes, pausing occasionally to grasp his chin and tilt his head from side to side and then back so that she could check her progress. Max looked throughout as though he wanted to say something, but as in love with the sound of his own voice as he was, he kept still to avoid injury.

When she was done, she wiped his face clean with his towel and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Max got to his feet and shuffled toward the shower

“Of all the damned bones one might break, this has to be the worst… I can scarcely do anything by myself,” he grumbled.

“It’s the most commonly broken bone in the body,” Pearl replied mildly. Max had hang ups about injury, about physical weakness. He took it as a sign that he was straying from the path; or worse, that his path lead to destruction. Pearl knew because she’d been raised that way herself. Those who were meant to survive, survived.

That was how her job had worked. She’d treated those whose benefit to their corporation had outweighed the cost of their treatment. Of course, ultimately it was down to the Plan who survived and who didn’t, the corps were kind of a middleman, but the OSI said that was ok because the corps being in charge was down to the Plan too. It was a whole system based on a lie so obvious she couldn’t understand how she’d once believed it, or how so many people still did. Including the man in front of her, who was self conscious about asking for help when he’d broken his collarbone.

She locked the door, unfastened his pants and eased them down over his hips along with his shorts. She made a neat pile of his clothing, then reached for the sling that held his arm.

“You want to take this off or keep it?”

“I’d rather it remain dry.”

“Ok… you ready?”

She let Max brace himself, with his good arm supporting the other, then gently released the sling and added it to the pile. Max flinched, but nodded when she glanced at him. Pearl activated the shower, sending warm water streaming down over his body. She smiled at the sight of him. His hair fell forward into his eyes, and he gave a deep sigh of pleasure.

Pearl stepped back and frowned. It was going to be tough to wash him properly without getting herself soaked in the process. And Max hadn’t been able to shower for a few days, which would have been a torment to him. If she was going to do it, she ought to do it right. Besides, it wasn’t as though they hadn’t seen each other naked before. She undressed quickly, adding her clothing to his own, then bent to pick up the soap and the washcloth. Max’s eyes were wide, and whatever he’d wanted to say before seemed to have gone from his mind entirely. He saw that she was watching him, and hurriedly looked away.

The air was warm and steamy; the water pleasant on her skin. She soaped Max’s shoulders, his chest, carefully avoiding the injured area, then worked her way down his arms. His muscles were tight beneath his skin, and she dug in a little and squeezed, working out the knots in his body. He had thick, strong fingers that were just long enough to be elegant, she thought as she washed his hands. She went to her knees to do his legs, and noticed that his cock twitched a little, but when she looked up at him his eyes were closed, and he seemed quite lost in the moment.

“Spin around,” she said, getting back to her feet. Max frowned, and he once again avoided meeting her gaze.

“I’ll be fine now. Thank you.”

“What? You’re kidding. There’s no way you can use that fancy stick with the sponge on it… I’ll do your back, I don’t mind.”

Max gave a pointed sigh and turned, but she noticed the droop in his neck, the way he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Strangely, he looked frightened.

His broad back was a lattice of scars, and Pearl brought her hand up to her mouth to avoid gasping or otherwise making a sound.

“I haven’t seen it in a while… is it still as bad as I remember?” Max said bitterly.

“They did this to you? In prison?”

“Where else? I can’t remember what I did to earn it. I was hardly a model prisoner, not at first anyway.”

“It’s just scars, Max. You’ve got those grazes on your chest, some on your legs… it’s not that different.”

“It is different,” he hissed. “Because they broke me.”

“They… broke you?”

Max looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You were in prison for heresy, right? And look what you did as soon as you got out. You went straight after the journal, just as heretical as you were before. They didn’t break you.”

On impulse, she hugged him. Her arms around his waist and her chest against his back, both of them slippery with soap.

“You’re stubborn, Max. They could drop Groundbreaker on your head and you’d get up and keep right on going after the Equation.”

He laughed, a sound that was rare and delightful in its rarity, and relaxed beneath her touch as she ran the cloth over his back.

“You have a way with words, Pearl. And you may have a point. Nevertheless, I must ask that you don’t tell the rest of the crew.”

“Your secret’s safe with me… now sit down for this last part.”

Max settled himself on the tiled floor, bracing with his good arm. He leaned back against her legs, a pleasant sensation with his warm wet skin and the solid weight of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, rinsing out the worst of the sweat and the dust, then reached for the elegant glass bottle she’d had her eye on ever since the first time she’d set foot in his cabin.

Max’s voice carried a tone of warning. “That one’s  expensive, you only need a purpleberry sized amount - a fucking purpleberry sized amount, good Law!” Pearl laughed and ignored him, pouring the rich, sweet smelling shampoo into her palm. She lathered his hair, breathing in the scent of lavender and nearmint and Max. His hair was thick and soft, and he groaned in pleasure as she alternated between running her fingers through it and massaging his scalp.

When he was clean from tip to tail she helped him to his feet, let the water rinse over him. Finally, with a nod that mixed pleasure and regret, he was done. She towelled him off and helped him dress and reapply his sling, ran a comb through his hair. She doubted it was to his usual standard, but it kept it out of his eyes.

“Good as new, Max. So listen… our field guide, Nyoka, she’s got something she wants to do that she needs a crew for. If we help her out, she’s gonna give us a big discount in return. So I figure we do her thing, let you rest up, then once you’re all healed we can head out. I’ll find my broker, you can find your… scholar.”

“My scholar,” Max murmured. He took her hand, and for a moment Pearl was again convinced that he was going to say something, but instead he squeezed her tightly. “Thank you, Captain.”

[altomer]

Kuuipo Chapter 1

Paring: Steve Mcgarrett x reader

Fandom: Hawaii 5-0

Warnings: none that I can think of.

Song: American Woman - Lenny Kravitz

Request: None

Outfit

I gripped the steering wheel, watching as my knuckles turned white. I sat outside the palace. My nerves were on edge. I didn’t understand why I was so nervous. It was completely stupid. I took a deep breath and swung the door open. The gravel crunched under my boots. I tugged at the blue air force t-shirt that hung on my shoulders. I glanced at my watch. 10:15, perfect. I smiled to myself as I made my way to the door.

“You're late.” A man said not even bothering to turn around.

“Actually, commander, I'm 15 minutes early.” I didn’t even try and hide the frustration in my voice. He was the SEAL I was sure of that much, The man swung around as the rest of the team looked at me. His eyes widened for a second before he raised his eyebrows. He was attractive, I couldn’t lie. He has green eyes and dark hair. He was tall and well built. The black shirt he wore hugged his arms

“You're the OSI Agent?” The disbelief in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Any attraction to him went out the window.

“Is there something wrong.” He shook his head. “When they said OSI I thought of someone more-”

“Male?”

“Taller.”

I didn’t know if I should be more offended or less offended. I shook my head letting out a sigh. I passed him to the rest of the team. I held my hand out to the closest person.

“First Lieutenant L/N.”

“Danny Williams.” I let out a sigh of relief. They weren’t all stuck up assholes.

The rest of the team was nice enough. Definitely not as bad as Mcgarrett. I looked to Danny

“So what do we have?” He went to hand me a file only to have it snatched out of his hand. I clenched my jaw. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“Lets see what you’ve got Princess.”

“Is this really time for your pissing contest Steve?”

“No,” I said, snatching the file from him.”I’ll do it.” I flipped open the folder 4 pictures sat on top. I set the file down, spreading the photos out. 

“The girls are all around the same age, brown hair, blue eyes.” I thought aloud. I moved the pictures looking to the Missing persons reports instead. “They all went missing around the same area at the same time.” I continued deeper into the file. I furrowed my brows bringing my hand up to my mouth. I chewed on the side of my thumb thinking. “Sex-Trafficing? No-” I shook my head.

“Why not?” Steve asked, crossing his arms. I could tell that’s what they were thinking. “There wouldn’t be a pattern like this. I tapped the map that was in the file.

“Could be a coincidence.” Danny said.

“No,” I said “Me running into you at the store is a coincidence.” I grabbed the map and the girls pictures and walked to a cork board. “This,” I pinned the pictures up “This is a pattern.” I turned to face the team. “I think you have a serial killer.” I crossed my arms waiting for a response. Danny clapped slowly, before pointing to Steve. 

“You my friend just got your ass handed to you.” The SEAL grumbled grabbing his own copy of the file. He slid a gun and badge across the table to me.

“Kono, L/N go talk to the first victims' family and see what you can find.” he said without looking up from the file. I nodded smiling to Kono as I pulled my keys out of my pocket.

“I’ll drive.”

As Kono and I pulled into the driveway a man ran out of the house screaming at a teenager who now stood on the grass holding his hand up.

“It’s your fault she’s gone!” He yelled pointing at the boy. The man whipped a gun out of his waistband. I heard a woman scream from the house. I snatched my gun and jumped out of the Bronco.

“5-0 drop the gun!” I yelled. the man stood pointing the gun. The boy was on his knees crying.

“He’s the reason my Jamie is dead!” The man’s hands were shaking. I holstered my gun and take a step forward holding my hands up.

“I can only imagine how you’re feeling.” His eyes flicked to me. “You're an Airman right.” I said pointing to the two flags flying in his yard. “I am too brother.” Tears flooded his eyes and he dropped the gun. I rushed forward and kicked the gun towards Kono. I turned to the man, tears were rushing down his face. The pain from his loss over taking him. “I promise I will find who killed your daughter.” His eyes met mine and he brought his hand up to a shaky salute. I gave him a sad smile before returning the salute.

Once we finished talking to the family Kono and I climbed into the Bronco. I leaned my head against the steering wheel.

“That was amazing!” She said looking at me.

“It was nothing.” I said my voice low. It tore me apart to see the way that man was hurting. Maybe I wasn’t ready to work again.

“That was some of the best deescalation I have ever seen.” I hummed pushing myself up. I turned the key starting the Bronco. I pulled out of the driveway as Kono’s phone rang. I watched the road but all I could think about was that man’s face. He lost his little girl, his daughter.

“They need us back at base.” I nodded flicking on my turn signal.

“You did your best.” I nodded again, swallowing the bile in my throat.

As we walked back into the office, all eyes were on us.

“How’d it go?”

“Ask Y/N?” I knew Kono was trying to get me out of this shell I had reverted into but that definitely didn’t help. I turned on my heel storming out of the hall. I heard heavy footsteps following behind me. Cursing under my breath I pushed a door open. Tears ran down my cheeks. I ran a hand through my hair. I remember when the C-17 landed. It was just me and a coffin. The girl who I was sent to save. The way her family looked at me. The anger. The pain. It was the same way that man looked at that boy. Who was I to survive when their baby girl wasn’t coming home. I heard the door open and quickly wiped the tears. The door closed and the light above me flicked on. Steve stood in front of me. Well as far as he could stand since I had chosen to hide in a closet apparently.

“Why are you crying in a closet out of all places?” His voice was calm and smooth unlike earlier and I wanted a hug so bad. No. Get yourself together. I leaned my head against the wall.

“I know why you were discharged.” My head shot up. No one was supposed to know that it had been cleared. “Are you ok?” His voice wasn’t pitiful. “If you can’t finish this case it’s fine.” I looked into his eyes and I remembered my promise to the father.

“The father,” I said clearing my throat, I swiped my hand across my cheek catching the stray tear that had escaped my eye. “The pain of losing his daughter.” I shook my head.

“How often does this happen?” He asked. I looked at him, narrowing my eyes. I shook my head.

“The survivors' guilt, the panic attacks.” I shook my head.

“I’d hardly call this a panic attack.”

“Answer the question.”

“Not as often as you think.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Why do you care?”

I saw a look cross his face. I couldn’t quite place it. It bugged me how easily he could read me. He grabbed my arms gently.

“My team is my family,” He paused. “And even if you’ve been here for less than a day you are a part of that team, that family.” I looked into his eyes. I let out a shaky breath. I was on the edge. One push and I’d be over it. “What happened was not your fault.” His words hit me like a brick. No one had told me that since it had happened. No, no one really believed it enough to say it. Even if they would have I wouldn’t have believed them. But from him it was different. That was the push. I felt myself falling, not literally but I was spiraling. My shoulders shook as I let the tears fall. Steve pulled me to his chest.

“She shouldn’t have died.” I cried my voice barely a whimper. “He killed her to taunt me.” Steve shushed me, rubbing circles into my back. “This is so similar.”

“I know.” 

Something inside me clicked as my sobs slowly quieted. I stepped away from Steve, rubbing my hands over my face. At this point I was really glad I had decided not to wear makeup. I had made up my mind. “Let’s get this bastard before he hurts anyone else.” I saw Steve’s face fall. I shoved the closet door open and ran back into the office. All eyes were back on me.

“So?” I asked, Danny pointed to the corkboard where a fifth picture was pinned next to the map.

“They found her body 3 hours ago.” I grabbed her missing persons report.

“A new girl goes missing every two days.” I looked at the pictures. “Can you find me every missing person’s report for anyone who matches this description?” Kono nodded and moved to her laptop. Steve had resumed his place at the head of the table. I felt his eyes on me.

“Has anyone talked to the vic’s family?” I asked, Steve shook his head. I nodded.

“I’ll go.” I started towards the door. Steve followed behind me. I didn’t question it. I had a feeling there was a piece we were missing. I pulled myself up into the Bronco. 

“This is yours?” Steve asked, amused. I grinned as the engine roared to life.

“Yep, My baby.” I ran my hand over the steering wheel. A chuckle escaped his throat. The feelings from earlier were nothing but a memory at the moment.

“You got something to say commander?” I nudged his arm with my elbow. He shook his head a smirk on his face. That smirk was something else. It could make anyone weak in the knees.

“No.”

As soon as I saw the marine bumper sticker I realized what we were missing. My stomach fell.

“Mcgarrett.” I said. He looked at me as I pointed out the bumper sticker. He looked at the sticker and back to me.

“You don’t think.” I nodded. He was targeting Military families.

“I’ll call Kono.” I mumbled pulling my phone out of my pocket. I was glad the woman had the foresight to put her number in my phone. Steve jumped out of the car.

“I’ll go talk to them,”

I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear.

“Kono.”

“Hey It’s Y/N, I need you to check if the other vics are military brats.”

It didn’t surprise me when Kono gave me the news that the girls were in fact from military families. Steve climbed into the Bronco, his mood solem. He looked at me expectantly. I nodded.

“Shit.” he grumbled. His phone rang in his pocket as he answered it he put it on speaker phone.

“Another girl was just abducted from Monoa Park!” Danny’s panicked voice cut through the speaker. I threw the car in reverse and flicked on the newly equipped sirens. Steve looked at me.

“Thank the governor.”

I shot around a corner.

“Danny did she have her cell on her.” I asked

“Kono’s working on that.”

“Car description.” Steve asked, his eyes wandering from car to car.

“Black SUV, either a chevy or a ford.” I spotted one ahead. I hit Steve in the arm. He turned the siren off as I pulled up behind him.

“We got a hit!” Kono’s voice echoed through the phone. My phone buzzed in the cupholder. I reached for it as the light turned green. The SUV shot forward. Steve grabbed the phone from my hand as I trailed them.

“That’s them.”

I nodded as I backed off.

“We’re on our way.” Danny called hanging up. My hands were shaking against the leather of the steering wheel. I turned down the road that the SUV had taken a few seconds prior. Shots rang out from the car. They bounced of the hood of the car.

“Shit!”

“Get down!” Steve yelled. I ducked down snatching my gun and stepped on the gas. Steve returned fire. I flipped on the siren. “Fuck it!”

The SUV swung around a corner into a dirt trail. Gravel flew as I slammed the accelerator. Their bumper was inches from the hood. I growled as I slammed into their bumper. They fishtailed on the trail struggling to regain traction.

“Back off.” Steve said as he reached over the seat to grab a ballistic vest he had thrown back there earlier.

We flew into a clearing bullets racing toward us. I slammed on the breaks. I heard sirens racing up the trail behind us. Steve jumped out using the Bronco as cover. I crawled across the seats. I fell to the ground sending shots in the direction of the SUV. I looked around the front of the Bronco as they pulled two girls out of the back.

“They have two!” I yelled. I brought my gun up and shot two of the three goons. One of the girls ran forward.

It felt like everything slowed as the last man brought his gun up and aimed it towards the girl.

BANG

I watched as the girl crumpled to the ground. Steve whipped around and shot twice. The last girl ran towards me, throwing herself into my arms. I hugged her but couldn’t tear my eyes from the girl on the ground. Two cars flew into the clearing. Danny jumped out of the car and rushed towards us. I stared at the body. I felt the girl let go only to be ushered away by Danny. I felt Steve place his hand on my back and lead me to the side of the Bronco as the officers covered her body. All I could think about was her scared face. If I was quicker, If I was smarter, If I was… If I was…

“Y/N.”

“L/N”

“Princess.”

“Y/N” I felt someone’s hands on either side of my face. I looked into a pair of green eyes. They were full of worry, full of sorrow. I closed my eyes. “Don’t do this to yourself.” His hands were still on my face. Why was he touching me? Why did I like it? “You saved her.” he took a deep “You saved one person that is not failure.”

Steve drove back to the palace.

“I’ll be back.” He jumped out of the car slamming the door shut. I stared out the windshield. The glass was cracked in the bottom corner. I leaned forward running my fingers over the splintered glass. I’m thoroughly surprised that the entire window wasn’t shattered. My body felt numb but my mind was racing. I pushed my back against the seat pulling open the glovebox. I pulled out the pack of gum and popped two sticks in my mouth. Chewing on something calmed me down.

The drivers door opened and Steve pulled himself up.

“Gum?” I offered. He nodded and took a stick. Which surprised me he didn’t seem like a gum guy. I looked out the window as we drove, The ocean sparkled under the moon. I didn’t recognize where we were but I didn’t bother asking. Hawaii was beautiful at night.

He pulled into a driveway before making his way to my side of the Bronco.

“Where are we?”

“You’re staying with me.” He held his hand out for me. I didn’t argue. Any rational thought went out the window as he led me inside. His house was nice. As soon as I walked through the door I saw the ocean on the other side of the house. He led me up the stairs, my feet grew heavy. “You can sleep here.” he opened the door to a bedroom. “There is a shower in there.” he pointed to a door on the opposite wall. “I’ll find you something to wear.”  I nodded and started towards the shower.

“Hey Steve.” He turned to look at me. “Thank you.” He gave me his signature smile.

“Your welcome princess.”

I woke up surprisingly comfortable. A ray of sun shone through the blinds. The smell of the ocean and bacon pulled at my senses, I groaned as I opened my eyes. Where was I? The clock read 10:35. I pushed the comforter off and set my feet on the hardwood. I opened the door and stumbled through the hallway and down the stairs. I heard muffled voices from the kitchen so decided to start there.

“Did you hear what happened when she was with Kono?”

“No, I’ll ask her about it.” Steve’s voice cut in. I rounded the corner to see Danny sitting at the island, he raised his coffee.

“Morning Babe.” I raised my eyebrow at the nickname.

“He calls everyone babe.” Steve cut in.

“Nice shirt.” I looked down to see a SEALS shirt. I pinched it and pulled it away from my skin.

“What did you do to get me in this?” I muttered in fake disgust. Steve looked at me and laughed. The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“You put that on yourself princess.” I dropped the shirt and slumped into the stool next to Danny.

“In all seriousness,” I started causing Danny and Steve to look at me. “I won’t be like this after every case.”

“We know.” Danny said, bumping my shoulder with his.

“What?”

“It was too much too soon.” Steve said, setting a plate of pancakes in front of me and Danny. 

“But you were amazing.” Danny said stuffing pancakes into his mouth. “We need you on the team.” I looked across the island to Steve who smiled.

“Welcome to the team princess.”

[smashsonics]

Two Pale Roses

@withered-pinkrose

❤️🔪❤️🔪❤️🔪❤️🔪

-🌸🌸🌸- This is a very troubling situation, it was really annoying. Amy was burdened with emotion and it sort of irritated her. She hated it, if those emotions were so troubling then why don’t you just get rid of them? That’s what you’re supposed to do, just focus on the ones that matter like hatred or anger. She hated it, she hated... How similar they were in the end. Was it just because they were alternates or could it have been something else? Now, she wasn’t in love with Scourge but those type of ‘loving’ feelings got her in trouble way too much. Ugh, just remembering it was enough to make her cringe.  ❝Hey.❞ She called out rather calmly, no childish tone, no anger from her voice. Just a normal hedgehog. Don’t get her wrong, she’s holding in everything she could to keep herself from blowing up. They were too alike and it definitely angered her but...just a bit of sympathy can help someone. She still liked Amy and they just became friends so...Rosy went over to pat her back.  Rosy sighed heavily, not really good at reassuring people because that takes empathy and it’s obvious that she never really learned how to express that. ❝You don’t gotta apologize. It’s not your fault, okay?❞ Amy’s been through a lot of heartbreak, huh? Relatable.  ❝Letting go of someone...isn’t super easy. do you think I was always this strong?❞ As much as she didn’t want to admit it, it could do some good if she did. ❝I’ve had too much emotional problems, I was so obsessed with someone --Not Scourge-- that I felt like I couldn’t breathe without him. I hurt so many people for him -- not that I felt bad for that--❞ She’s SO bad with trying to comfort people.  She bonked herself in the head, grumbling to herself as if she was trying to find the right words to say. ❝Okay! What I’m trying to say is that: I’m not gonna hurt him so stop crying already!❞ She huffed out, more angry at herself than with Amy. 

❝We’re still friends so like! Shut up!❞ She’s been so out of touch with people she completely forgot how to talk to someone. ❝Forget it...! I don’t know how to talk to people!❞ She mumbled out, grabbing the hem of her skirt as she looked away. It was better to just leave, right? Amy wanted to be able to feel less but maybe...Rosy wanted to be able to feel more than just anger. 

[deliriumbubbles]

10 and 11 with Brusty. Snuggling while snowed in is always nice

This is not the cute snuggling I wanted it to be, but there is snuggling and Brock does get in on it at one point.

Brock peeredout the window, knife at his side, glaring at the snow as though he couldintimidate it into jumping back up into the heavens to clear their way. Nothin’doing. The lawn was thick blanket of treacherous white. Anything or anyonecould be hiding out there.

 “Every time,I swear,” Rusty grumbled as he came out of the bedroom. “One needs to use thebathroom, then the other needs water,and then of course that one needs thebathroom, and the other wants a story,or saw something in the window, orthe closet. They gang up you, is whatthey do!”

 “They’reeight,” Brock said.

 Rusty sankinto the beat up sofa in the middle of the safe house. “And it’s easier now than when they were babies.  Or, oh God, when they were toddlers! There was no containing them.Even with Helper on alert 24/7. Sometimes, even with Myra.”

 Brock made agrowl deep in his throat. He’d only met the bitch once. It might’ve been thefirst real challenge on his plate as a bodyguard. Partially because he’d underestimatedher, partially because she rivaled Underbheit in total fucking nutjobobsession. Only where Werner was just obsessed with the Doc, Myra was obsessedwith the boys… and the Doc.

 Brock hadfound Rusty hogtied and naked over a lab table. God knew what that heinousbitch had been planning, but she’d chosen instead to run off with boys, andBrock had to bolt out of there the minute he’d cut the Doc loose on the slim hope of catching up with her.

 “We shouldn’t’vebrought ‘em,” Brock muttered.

 “And weshould, what? Leave them with Helper? Hire a babysitter?” Rusty grabbed ablanket that was draped over the back of the sofa and wrapped it around him. “Theyalways turn out to be a henchman. Trust me, Brock, that’s the last thing you want to have on yourconscience, trying to go off to do a mission and you put them in the hands ofsome sociopath.”

 Brockstepped away from the window and looked at Rusty, curling the blanket aroundhimself and looking utterly exhausted. There was little chance they might getout by morning, but it was lucky that this OSI safe house had been empty atall. There were food stores in the kitchen, and a nice bed for the boys toshare. They could pick up the job when it was safe to get back in the jet.

 Kicking offhis shoes, Brock walked over to the sofa and sat beside Rusty. He could feelhis back muscles tensing in spite of himself. Everything was unfairlycomplicated. Myra made everythingcomplicated. From the threats against the Doc and the boys, to the history ofRusty’s bodyguard getting too attached and too damn sloppy to take care of himand his children.

 That… thatcouldn’t happen.

 “Don’t hogthe blanket,” Brock said.

 Rusty openedone side, shuddered, and tossed the corner around Brock’s shoulders. “Is OSI toocheap for central heating?”

 “I don’tthink this safe house has been used since the 70s.” He looked behind them,wondering if there was a hidden closet somewhere. “There might be a keroseneheater around here somewhere.”

 Rusty pulledhis feet up onto the sofa, folding himself into Brock’s side. Brock pulled himclose. It was a protective thing, keeping the Doc by his side like this. Hecould see the door just fine. He could keep his body between the Doc and anyoneout there. And he for sure would see anyone before they could get to the boys inthe back room.

 “You’re likea human radiator,” Rusty muttered.

 And he couldkeep him warm.

 “Thanks,”Brock said.

 “That wasn’ta complement. It was a scientific observation. Is this how you nailed so manygirls in college?”

 “Yeah.Girls, like that… They need to lie on something warm to jumpstart theirmetabolism.”

  Rusty chuckled. Brock smiled, a little proudof himself. He was good at that, the banter thing… but he hadn’t always been sogood at it around the Doc. They’d talked so infrequently as roommates incollege that Rusty hadn’t recognized him around campus. When Brock had come tothe compound, it had been pretty tense at first. He wished he could say thathad something to do with being pissed that he’d been stuck on this rookie assignment,or because Rusty had at first been rightfully wary of the man who had put himin the hospital back in college, but it was really… just how Brock was.

 He’d hadvery few friends in his life, very few people he’d really been able to talk toand joke with. He’d considered OSI to be one of those places where he’d reallyfelt comfortable, but that was over. He didn’t know if he’d ever be back in thefield with his colleagues.

 In thosefirst, torturously slow months, though, Rusty rebounded from his initial hesitancealmost too quickly. His seemingly indefatigable humor had gradually made the compounda space where, if Brock could manage it, he could say what was on his mind. Hecould joke, and get even a laugh. To what degree he truly belonged, or Rustywould allow him, remained to be seen, but it wasn’t as though Rusty everypushed him away.

 Almostunconsciously, Brock’s hand touched the back of Rusty’s hair. The soft remainsthat had tenaciously held on in spite of the intense stress of the past fewyears curled a little at the nape of his neck.  Brock’s thumb began stroking Rusty’s neck gently,and Rusty sleepily let his head rest on Brock’s shoulder.

 Remaining sostill, Brock could feel his heart pounding a little faster than was necessary.Rusty’s breathing deepened slightly, and Brock kept his eyes on him. When hedidn’t move for several minutes, Brock started to lean back in a smooth, fluidmotion. He settled on the sofa, still with his eyes on the door, and Rustypressed against Brock’s chest. Laying a hand on Rusty’s back, he could feeleach breath rise and fall.

 A lightsnore came from Rusty, and Brock had to bite back a laugh. He didn’t rememberthe man snoring. Granted, he’d been a little busy in college. He’d had so muchrage in him (still did, if he was honest), but Brock hadn’t ever been one tofocus and reflect on what was going on around him. Now, though, he saw thatspirit the Doc had maintained for years crumbling in quick, alarming chunks.

 Brock didn’tknow how to stop it any more than he knew how to run that lab that kept theback-up bodies of their precious boys. He didn’t have a clear enough memory ofthe Doc from college to say what parts of him had survived losing his father,then his children, then his wife, and then his children again.

 He rubbedRusty’s back, starting to feel a bit drowsy himself. But he wouldn’t sleep. Hecould keep his brain alert enough to spring to action the second trouble came.

 Rusty’s armmoved, and Brock tensed all over as his moved his arm around Brock’s chest. Itseemed like Brock’s heart ought to pop right through his chest and knock Rustyright in the face. But it didn’t. Rusty just lay there, fully and deeplyasleep.

 When thefootsteps finally came, they were more welcome than not. Tiny feet in thicksocks, followed by a big yawn and a head of floppy blond hair. Brock held hisfinger to his lips, and Hank looked at his dad, then curled up forcibly next toBrock. It wasn’t comfortable—Brock could barely fit on the sofa himself—butHank had no interest in being deterred.

 “Fine, fine.Just keep quiet.”

 It wasn’tlong before he had two Ventures curled up on him. No surprise then when a pile ofblankets walked out of the bedroom. A bit of red fluff stuck up from the top ofthe pile.

 “Why are youawake?” Brock whispered. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

 “’Cause Hankwasn’t there,” Dean said.

 “C’mere.”

 Dean drewclose to them and sunk into his blankets right next to the sofa. Brock reacheddown with one hand and rested it on Dean’s head. The hair was so fine. Both oftheirs was, the boys. It made it harder, having them along on trips, but Brockcouldn’t hate them being where he could see them.

 “S’cold,”Dean muttered.

 “Yeah, Iknow,” Brock said.

 He lookeddown at Rusty, who hadn’t moved at all. Hesitantly, Brock pushed himself up alittle, winning himself a snore from Rusty and a whine from Hank. Extractinghimself from sleeping Ventures was a tough proposition, but if an OSI officer couldn’tmanage it, he didn’t deserve his rank. Once freed, Brock went to dig throughthe remaining closets until he found the gas heater. It was dusty, and it tookeven longer to find the damn kerosene, but eventually, he set the heater in themiddle of the room and got it going.

 It was thenthat he glanced back to see that Dean had crawled up onto the sofa with hisfather and brother. Like little kittens, the boys had wriggled their way underRusty’s arm, and he held them fairly tightly. A frown had dug its way into hisbrow.

 Brock sat onthe floor where Dean had been. It was warmer without the blanket now. In amoment of weakness, he looked back at the Doc and considered slipping back ontothe sofa with them. He was where he belonged. Apart from the family, puttinghimself between them and danger. They were the family, and he was their guard.That was all. There couldn’t be anything else.

[deliriumfics]

Sartorial Intrigue

Chapter Eight: Dean’s Old Coat

Part of Bargaining in the Runaways series.

Pairs: Dean/Jared, Sirena/Hank

Summary: What has Dean’s Old Coat been up to without him?

“Dean, what the hell are ya doin’ here?”

Brock stormed up to Dean and grabbed the boy’s shoulders. Must’ve startled him, too, because he stiffened up and tried to squirm away.

“Relax!” Brock let one hand drop, but kept the other on Dean’s shoulder, hoping to settle the boy, but he remained ridged to the touch. “But you shouldn’t be here. Didn’t Shore Leave, uh, leave with you and Hank ten minutes ago?”

“Um… yes?” Dean squeaked. “But, um, I-I was cold.”

“Fine. Stay put.”

Brock went into Dean’s room. A box of old clothes sat on his bed, and the desk was piled high with books and papers. Must be finals. He spotted the blue and white coat Doc had bought for him probably two years ago. Ugly old thing. Unfortunately, after he’d grabbed it and returned to the hallway, Dean was nowhere to be seen.

“Dammit, Dean.” Brock shook his head and started ducking his head into rooms. Usually it was Hank he had to worry about fooling around in the middle of a dangerous operation.

Grumbling low in his throat, he headed back to the living room where the OSI and Guild were setting up for the Morpho sting. Then, surprisingly, there the boy was, lurking near the wall and staring intently at Councilwoman One and Snoopy.

“Hey.” Brock grabbed Dean’s arm. “C’mon, let’s get you outta here before the fur starts flying.”

Read the rest of the Brotherhood of the Traveling Puffy Coat on AO3.

[curiously-a-dreamer]

Really is fucked up that we have to endure the horrors and we’re still expected to submit assignments or show up to work

[danvssomethingorother]

Mirrorverse!AU where Rusty and Brock became villains not long after college and never went the Protagonist route. (Because honestly the first Brock thought I had over that S7 finale was Mirror!Villain!Brock along with Rusty being the Supervillain that Killinger believes he should have been.)

I had to finally make myself tap off on this one. I was making it too long. I hope you enjoy!  

A03

—

“Are you coming with me?”

Rusty didn’t answer him,taking a few quick puffs from his bong before setting it aside, he didn’t lookat the large blonde man instead keeping his eyes on his text book. If he lefthis thesis meant nothing, if he stayed it meant everything. He opened thescience book his father himself had written and just stared at the man whocontrolled so much of his life smiling brightly back at him from theintroduction page.  

Large fingers coveredover that smile as Brock forced the book down forcing Rusty to look at him.

“Babe, I can’t do thiswithout you.”

Rusty stared him in theeyes and finally sighed shrugging.

“Is that a yes?”  

Rusty didn’t answer, hejust leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against Brock’s lips and thelarger man smirked pressing him against the mattress and deepening the kiss.

—

Rusty had been in many,many, many uncomfortable situations in his life, but there was just somethingthat struck a primal fear seeing someone he loved and trusted so much loomingover him like this. Pinning him gently but firmly against the mattress with histhighs pinned tight against his sides and a pair of plyers in his hands.  

“Just breathe Rust,”Brock sighed out just as nervous himself glancing at the plyers in his hand,“I’m just gonna yank it out and then we can leave.”

“This is easy for you tosay,” Rusty sneered back at him breathing picking up just staring at theplyers, “No one is using plyers to yank your damn teeth out!”

“One, just the one damntooth,” Brock sneered back correcting him.

“Do you know which one??”

“Second molar on the topof the right side of your mouth,” Brock grumbled back rolling his eyes notliking that Rusty wasn’t trusting him to yank his tooth out.

“Stop, time out,” Rustymoaned loudly shoving at his boyfriend, “Get the fuck off me.”

Brock growled at him butcomplied to his request allowing his boyfriend to get up from the bed and beginpacing in a circle around the bed, taking deep breaths and wringing his fingerstrying to calm his nerves.

“That’s half a bottle ofjack still in the fridge,” Brock said to him but Rusty was barely listeningcontinuing to pace, “You can drink some of that before I yank it out.”

“I don’t want thosethings in my mouth,” Rusty finally mumbled taking a quick glance at the plyersbefore looking away, “Just punch me really hard.”

“Babe, I’m not punchingyou in the face,” Brock snickered but sobered watching Rusty begin his paceonce more.  

“I don’t want thosethings in my mouth!” Rusty whined dangerously close to breaking down, theplyers were upsetting him, Brock could tell but he didn’t know what else hewanted him to do. They needed to yank the tracking device out, if they didn’t,well they would just be caught by Team Venture before they got out of thestate.  

“How do you suggest weget the tooth out then?”

“I suggested you punch mein the face, but you don’t seem to want to do that,” Rusty grumbled outstopping in his tracks and taking uneven breaths before opening the mini fridgeand taking the bottle of jack out, carefully swishing the content with a flickof his wrist measuring how much there was.

“And what? Lose more thenone tooth? Babe, come on, stop being a freaking cry baby and let me do this.”

“You need me, mister,”Rusty sneered his way, “Without me, you get nothing and will have to do whatyour mom wants you to do and join the OSI’s crusade. We do this shit my way oryou can just go get killed by a weirdo in a Snake costume.”

“Fine, I’ll go join OSIand you can just go back to your dad and be alone,” Brock sneered back andRusty just glared hard at him before turning towards the window. His heart ratewas already high, but it seemed to sky rocket at the idea of Brock leaving himand being gone forever.

“I’m gonna chug thisentire bottle,” Rusty finally began taking a deep breath staring down at thebottle in his shaking hands, “And you are going to grab me, pin me to the bedand just yank it out. Don’t give me time to relax, just do it.”

Brock shrugged at theidea, it wasn’t the worst thing ever and they were already behind schedule.Might as well just yank that band aid off.

Brock watched hisboyfriend tip the bottle against his lips and knew he didn’t have that muchtime before that bottle would be empty. He prepared himself quickly, taking theplyers in his hands and straightening himself up ready to pounce the man thesecond he finished.

Rusty stood there amoment, tense waiting to be yanked back and man handled but was given a momentto take a breath, dropping the bottle on the ground in a pile of laundry thatstill needed to be packed and put all his focus on a nest of baby birds thathad made a home on their window sill. He began to wonder what it was like tohave a family that loved and cherished you watching the mother bird nuzzle herhead against her newly hatched chick when he felt his boyfriend grab his waistand toss him onto the mattress.

He bounced against themattress, disoriented from the liquor but had no time to get himself togetheras his very large boyfriend forced his weight on him temporarily taking hisbreath and making him moan out his protests, changing his mind all at once asBrock’s large fingers pried his mouth open and the glint of metal caught hiseye.

He gurgled out protests,but Brock just forced his mouth open more, easily holding it open uncomfortablywide.  

His arms were pinnedagainst his side under his boyfriend’s weight and it was impossible to move, hecould do little more then let Brock do what he wanted.  

He didn’t even feel thetooth get yanked out, his panic overriding all his other emotions. He gentlyfelt his boyfriend pulling him up and resting him against his chest as hesobbed, wrapping his now freed arms around his chest. He heard Brock tellinghim something, but the words were fuzzy and he couldn’t really understand them.

He felt him kiss him onthe head a few times before laying him back down, gently pulling his mouth openagain, making his heart race increase again as he shoved something smooth andfuzzy where his tooth had been before gently kissing him on the forehead.

When he regainedconsciousness later, he was reclined in the passenger side of Brock’s car, thestrong smell of cigarettes making him nauseous.

He curled himself tightagainst the door, not ready to face his boyfriend after the childish way he hadreacted to something they had agreed needed to be done.

Brock didn’t say anythingto him, gently resting his hand on his head, messing with his messy ponytail aminute before putting his attention back on the road.

He pulled himself upenough to rest his head against the window and see they were leaving Coloradobehind them.

There was no turning backnow.

—

Rusty hadn’t realized howtruly sheltered he had always been until he was really out of the world hisfather had made.

They had been stayingwith Brock’s younger brother who had recently been trying to break into theunderground technology game, selling tech to wannabe heroes and arches alikebut well the problem was Brock’s brother Charlie was an idiot. He was a giantjock more suited for ripping men’s throats out then making complex machinerybut he thought he had a chance in this game after he taped a knife to a vacuum cleanerand his stoner friend had somehow weaponized that and went three rounds againsta seasoned pro hero.

It ended tragically ofcourse, his friend still in the hospital likely not going to make much longerbut Charlie considered it a victory. When he heard his brother was messingaround with a Venture, he thought he would change both of their lives.

So far, he had onlychanged Rusty’s life.

No longer did he have hisfather’s money or robots to do basic house work for him or any of the materialthings he had realized he took for granted when he was a pawn in father’s game.

Rusty now had to cook andclean while the Samsons worked during the day, Rusty now had to do withoutwhatever took his fancy and Rusty had to actually see a project through. Theyhad a dead line they needed to meet, Charlie somehow weaseled his way into an auctionand they now had to have something to present to it or they would be blacklisted before they had a chance to get their foot into the underground.

Rusty found himselfgrumbling every curse word he knew as he scrubbed hard at the kitchen floor, onhis hands and knees like a commoner trying to scrub the grime away tired ofwaking up to cockroaches and vermin.

On the counter his blue printswere still laid out, ready for revisions so he could start the first design butthat had to wait until he got the blood splatter off the ground. One of Charlie’s‘friends’ had bled out here last night and Rusty couldn’t stand the sight ofthe splatter anymore.  

The only thing that neverchanged in his life was the violence. It was just always going to be here. Onlythis time he had to clean up the blood that stained the floor.

He stopped, what was hedoing here?

One phone call and hecould go home. He could go back to school. He could have his nice things back,go back to drinking and doing drugs just cause he was bored.

He could go back to beingalone, being a porcelain doll, everyone just glued back together and stuck backup high on the shelf.  

He could go back to nothaving Brock here to hold him through the nightmares and make him feel safe andwanted.  

He could go back to justhaving the violence but no one to protect him from it and make sure no one everhurt him.

He grit his teeth andscrubbed harder before turning back to the design, he could do this. He didn’tneed his dad.

—-

“Is this a Mardi Grasmask?”

The Samsons were laughingat his choice in costume but he stood his ground, folding his arms firmly andglaring towards them.

“We are going to anauction with like super villains and heroes and shit, right?”

“Babe, I know you workedhard on these or whatever but come on,” Brock snickered picking up one of the handmade glittering masks before tossing it back on the table, “Our image is goingto be wrapped up in this. You want everyone to see us and think we are going tostart handing beads or some shit out?”

“What? Did you just wantto wear ski masks?” Rusty sneered at the brothers who just glared hard at him.

“I worked hard to get usthere! We are not—”

Rusty cut Charlie off,jabbing his finger straight into his large chest and saying loudly and firmly.

“This is my invention!You two will wear the suits and masks I made or you can present your own shit!”  

“Yeah that’s what Ithought, its either my way or you can pull out the Stab – You – Vac again foranother disastrous performance.”

“Just so we are clear here,the Stab – You – Vac almost took down Captain freaking Sunshine, what the hellcan your force field belt even do? Last I checked it barely worked.”

“It barely didanything! Your idiot friend just got lucky it was like midnight and Sunshine’s powerswere down and he had a big blunt object with a bunch of knives glued to it…”

“And if you don’tremember, once Sunshine’s friends showed up, your idiot friend got such an ass kicking,he is a vegetable now!”

Charlie snarled loudlygrabbing Rusty by his shirt and slamming him against the counter. He lookedready to kill Rusty and well, Rusty wasn’t in that much of a position to stophim if he wanted to.

He tensed but he didn’tdrop his glare, if he was going to die he wasn’t going out crying that was for sure.

Brock however didn’t seemto care Charlie was blood and had already made up his mind no one was allowedto touch Rusty.

He punched his brotherout with one hit, knocking him to the floor and pulling Rusty behind him whenhis brother gave him a murderous look after touching his broken nose.

“Get the fuck out!”Charlie snarled.

Brock didn’t say anything,he just grabbed Rusty firmly and pulled him out the door with him. Brock hadalready shoved Rusty into the car as his brother came out still screamingthreats tossing their belongings out with him, promising they weren’t getting intothe auction tomorrow night.  

Rusty sucked in a nervousbreath as he watched Brock shove his brother back into the small run downtrailer, Charlie still yelling but Brock still not saying a word.

Rusty gave a nervous waveto the drug dealer next door he sometimes bought pot from and he just as nervouslywaved back.

This had not been thefirst fight like this, Charlie could get violent when he wanted to, put two ofhis former girlfriends in the hospital and Brock had made it clear when theymoved in he wasn’t allowed to touch Rusty. And well, he finally broke that ruletonight because of Rusty’s mouth, so it looked like they no longer had a placeto live.

He watched a young womanwho worked in the strip club off the freeway look nervously towards the Samsonresidence before running into her own trailer, slamming and locking the doorbehind her.

Brock came back out a fewmoments later shoving some stuff in the trunk, the few things to their name fitneatly into one medium sized box, what a world Rusty had entered into.

Brock got in the driverside a few moments later lighting up a cigarette. He didn’t look like he wantedto talk, so Rusty said nothing letting him crank up the radio full blast anddrive around for a few hours to calm down.

“We aren’t doing thiswith Charlie anymore,” he finally said.

“Can we still get in theauction without his connection?” Rusty mumbled not making eye contact with hisboyfriend.

“Yeah Charlie agreed togive me his contact finally, we can do this on our own.”

“Babe?”  

Rusty glanced over atBrock looking more vulnerable then he had ever seen him, gripping the steeringwheel hard enough to break it, just staring off at the cars driving past themfrom the truck stop he had pulled off into.

“Yeah?”

“Do you regret coming outhere with me?”

“I don’t know yet,” Rustyfinally admitted putting his hand on Brock’s, “The sex is great as always buthaven’t been a fan of the poverty.”

Rusty was feeling bold hesupposed as he crawled on top of Brock and began kissing him. A little car sexwas just always the thing to get their mind off stress.

—

Rusty sat nervously infront of the dressing room mirror, brushing his hair and just glancing at the poorlymade unicorn mask he had made himself. His white tux was the only thing thatwas clean about him, he hadn’t properly bathed in three days since they had takento living in Brock’s car.

Brock stood by the door,knife in one hand and his dragon mask clenched between his fingers.

It was really happening,they were about to go up on a stage and try to sell one of his inventions tothe highest bidder.

Rusty was so nervous hewas sure that if they had been able to eat today he would be throwing up rightnow.  

The knock at the doormade him jump, he glanced back at Brock then towards the clock, it wasn’t timeyet.

“Let them in Brock,” hesaid somehow keeping his words steady.  

A man who looked strikinglysimilar to David Bowie stepped through the door making Rusty jump from hisseat.

“Its alright, I shall notslay your unicorn nor do I seek to put him in captivity,” the man chuckled atBrock who had his large knife against his throat. Rusty shook his head towardsBrock and Brock finally lowered his weapon allowing the man to fully enter theroom.

“When they told me RustyVenture was here, I didn’t believe them,” he said with a chuckle, “I had to seeit with my own eyes that our boy had grown up and was up to no good.”

He stepped towards Rustyand gently cupped his cheeks titling his head a little to get a better look athim before smiling and stepping away.

“Who the hell are you?” Rustyhissed at him putting some distance between them and catching from thereflection in the mirror Brock was stepping closer to them, “I sure as helldidn’t tell anyone my real name.”

“Do you think no onewould know?” the man’s smirk only grew at the pure terror that was stretchingacross Rusty’s face, “No one would come to seek your father’s bounty? No onewould come to see the prodigal son try to step into villainy? A dollar storemask doesn’t cover up who you are.”

“Your boyfriend’s brotherwas running his mouth that he had a Venture doing his dirty work.”

Brock glanced awayrubbing the side of his head showing he knew his brother had done that.

“I came with an offer, Ihad to have you once I knew what you were up to.”

Rusty opened his mouth,an insult already at the tip of his tongue but the man shook his head, raisinghis hand to silence him and Rusty was surprised that was all it took to keephim from starting. Maybe it was his nerves.

“I want to only help youRusty, I want to make you a star, reinvent your image.”

He made a face runninghis fingers through his greasy hair and shaking his head, gently taking his armand stretching it out, shaking his head once more seeing how loosely the suitfit him. Rusty yanked away glaring hard, not liking the way he was being scrutinized.

“Who are you?” Rusty repeatedmore firmly.

“Sorry, awfully rude ofme,” the man said with a shake of the head and a chuckle, “You see Rusty, youand I aren’t strangers. You just don’t quite remember me, do you?”

“You kidnap me in thepast?”

“Not my style,” he said witha shake of his head, “You and I met when you were a scared little boy who didn’tthink this world was fair. I passed Rusty’s Law just for you, but your fatherhad to ruin it throwing out many of the clauses that would make it illegal toput a child in this line of work at all.”

Rusty was so pale now hewas almost transparent, gently backing until he hit Brock who pulled him closeto him, sending a threatening look the man’s way.

“I want you to join theGuild, Rust. I want to help you. Protect you from the people out there tonightwho just want to hurt you.”

He pulled a business cardfrom his pocket and placed it in Rusty’s hand, gently forcing his stiff fingersto hold on to it.

“Come to us when you areready, Thaddeus. Don’t waste your potential on the garbage here tonight.”

He gave them a smile andthanked them for their time before sauntering back out the way he came.

—

Rusty didn’t stick aroundto sell his invention that night, he caught up with the mysterious man and he andBrock left with him that night to join the Guild.

[kitsunix]

Second one-shot in my Scream Street series. Imma try to write one of these a day, unless something comes up.

Children

Dinnertime was unusually quiet that night. The gloomy silence was only broken by the sounds of forks touching plates.

The two men at the table—one tall, pale, dark-haired, and sharply dressed, the other lanky and more casual, from his clothes to his posture, with lime green hair that reached past his shoulders—exchanged concerned glances with each other before directing them at the third occupant, a young girl dressed in a black hoodie with bat wings attached to the sleeves, with mid-length hair that could only be described as “bubblegum pink”. She poked morosely at her fish and chips, normally one of her favorite dishes, but both had gone soggy, cold, and untouched, along with her glass of blood.

Dixon cleared his throat awkwardly, before forcing a smile on his face. “Come on now, Ambrosia, I may not be the best cook on Scream Street, but I didn’t think I did that bad!” He let out a nervous laugh, which trailed off when he saw his daughter’s cringe and his husband’s sharp glare.

“Well, now we can add guilt to whatever’s been nagging at her today. Good job, Dixon,” Resus drawled.

“I just wanted to lighten the mood. Maybe cheer her up.”

“I think you’d have a wee bit more success in that department if you asked her what was wrong.” Resus shifted his eyes over to Ambrosia in a subtle gesture.

“Oh! Um… what’s wrong, Ambrosia?”

Resus sighed as Ambrosia visibly clammed up, before turning to her. “How was school today, Rosie? Did anything interesting happen?”

This time Ambrosia winced, before wordlessly pulling her hood with the bat ears over her head, tucking her hair underneath it before pulling the drawstrings tight. This body language Dixon had little trouble deciphering.

“Ix-nay on the Osie-Ray, Resus,” he whispered, before turning to his daughter. He was beginning to piece together the gist of what might have happened at school. “You’ve been practicing your shapeshifting a lot lately, haven’t you? Did you get to show Cleo and Luna?”

Ambrosia shyly nodded, her green eyes peering out from beneath the hood.

“I turned into a cat for them. They both thought it was super cool. They even petted me,” she whispered, letting her hood loosen.

“Fantastic, Ro—Ambrosia,” Resus cheered, clapping once. “I remember how excited you were when you first transformed into a bat.”

“You were plenty excited, too, love,” his husband teased. “You were calling your parents, and Luke and Cleo—"

“Oh, be quiet,” Resus replied with no real malice.

Dixon just gave Resus his little half-grin before turning back to his daughter. “Then what happened?”

At this, Ambrosia glanced down at her lap.

“Then… Damian and his friends showed up.”

Resus and Dixon shared another worried glance before returning their attention to Ambrosia, who was wringing her hands together in agitation.

“Go on, Ambrosia,” Resus gently prodded.

“He asked us if he wanted to play hide and seek. Cleo told them to bug off, and I don’t think Luna wanted to play either… I should’ve listened to them…”

“… but you wanted to show Damian and his lackeys what you could do,” Dixon finished.

Ambrosia nodded. “Damian offered to be ‘it’ first, so I turned into a rubbish bin, thinking maybe if he looked in me, and saw I wasn’t hiding in the bin, he’d move on… He found me right away.” Now Ambrosia was tightly gripping the edge of her light purple pleated skirt. “I was not only a rubbish bin, but a pink rubbish bin… Damian and the others laughed at me, they said it doesn’t matter what I change into, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” Her voice broke, and tears started rolling down her pale cheeks. “They asked what kind of color is pink for a vampire…”

Her fathers both got out of their chairs and were by her side in an instant. Dixon pulled her into a hug, letting her bury her face into his chest, while Resus put one hand on her shoulder.

“They’re just jealous, Ambrosia. Years of being taught they’re the best thing since blood plumbing, with their immortality and their super speed and being able to fly, and then along you come, able to do something they can’t. So they try to take you down a peg, just to make themselves feel better.”

“It’s working!” Ambrosia cried, muffled by her father’s chest. “They’re right, I’ll never be able to make the pink go away! I’ll just be that pink vampire that always stands out…”

“You know, I had the same problem when I was your age,” said Dixon.

This prompted Ambrosia to remove her tear-streaked face from his chest. “You did…?”

“You did?” Resus echoed.

“Yeah, don’t you remember? I tried to turn into other people, but their hair was always green?”

Resus tried to think back to such a time in his and Dixon’s youth, while Ambrosia giggled.

“Really, Daddy…?”

“Really! I’d get in so much trouble with my uncle Otto, ‘cause I’d always give myself away. It took me years to learn how to put all the green somewhere else.”

“Oh…” Ambrosia’s face fell again.

“But until I did, I’d work around it! I’d turn into mostly green things, like trees. No one could ever find me when I was a tree!”

“Except for that one time you turned into a tree in the middle of Sneer Hall…” Resus reminisced.

“Point being, part of learning how to shapeshift is working around your limits. Can you turn into a rose?”

“Um… I think so…” Ambrosia concentrated, and a few seconds later, a pink rose existed in the air she previously occupied. Dixon caught her before she fell onto her seat.

“That’s good! You don’t stick out like this, do you?” he asked the rose. “Tell you what, next time Damian challenges you to a game of hide and seek, hide in a rosebush and turn into a rose. Or turn into a stuffed animal. Anything that’s pink. He’ll never find you!”

Ambrosia shifted back, now holding Dixon’s hand, and giggled at the thought. “That’ll show him!”

“And just to really rub his nose in it, make it a bet. Make him lose more than just his pride,” Dixon added, the wicked smile on his face sharply reminding Resus of earlier days.

Which is why he didn’t like it when Ambrosia mirrored the expression. “Don’t worry Daddy, I will.”

“And you wonder why Mom calls you a bad influence,” Resus sighed, shaking his head. “It’s just too bad I’ll be too busy dealing with the fallout over this from Damian’s parents to properly punish you if you decide to take your Daddy’s advice…” He winked at Ambrosia, making her grin from ear to ear.

“Thanks, Dads! I feel much better now!” Ambrosia’s stomach suddenly grumbled, and she clasped both hands over her midsection. “Except now I’m hungry…”

Laughing, the dads took her untouched plate and went to re-fix her meal.

“Don’t worry, Resus, if it comes down to it, I’ll help you deal with the Covens.”

[mytechchannel]

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Each time you visit Speedtest.net, you can see the consequences of your past data transfer capacity tests. This is extraordinary for following the speed of your web association with either demonstrate your ISP that your association has backed off or to demonstrate to you that a publicized move up to your transfer speed has really happened.

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All things considered, there’s almost no not to like about Speedtest.net. It’s natural, quick, simple on the eyes and has been genuinely precise in my tests when contrasted with what my ISP says my accessible data transfer capacity ought to be.

Features:

Find your download, transfer and ping

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Investigate or confirm the speed you were guaranteed

Track past tests with nitty gritty detailing

Effectively share your outcomes

How to Install ?

Download & Install the Apk from the links given below Done ! Enjoy 🙂

Download Download Download

[johanlouwers]

OSI's Simon Phipps on Open Source's Past and Future

OSI's Simon Phipps on Open Source's Past and Future

Image

Christine Hall Wed, 04/11/2018 - 09:20

open source

With an eye on the future, the Open Source Initiative's president sits down and talks with Linux Journal about the organization's 20-year history.

It would be difficult for anyone who follows Linux and open source to have missed the 20th birthday of open source in early February. This was a dual celebration, actually, noting the passing of 20 years since the term "open source" was first coined and since the formation of the Open Source Initiative (OSI), the organization that decides whether software licenses qualify to wear that label.

The party came six months or so after Facebook was successfully convinced by the likes of the Apache Foundation; WordPress's developer, Automatic; the Free Software Foundation (FSF); and OSI to change the licensing of its popular React project away from the BSD + Patents license, a license that had flown under the radar for a while.

The brouhaha began when Apache developers noticed a term in the license forbidding the suing of Facebook over any patent issues, which was troublesome because it gave special consideration to a single entity, Facebook, which pretty much disqualified it from being an open-source license.

Although the incident worked out well—after some grumblings Facebook relented and changed the license to MIT—the Open Source Initiative fell under some criticism for having approved the BSD + Patents license, with some people suggesting that maybe it was time for OSI to be rolled over into an organization such as the Linux Foundation.

The problem was that OSI had never approved the BSD + Patents.

Simon Phipps delivers the keynote at Kopano Conference 2017 in Arnhem, the Netherlands.

"BSD was approved as a license, and Facebook decided that they would add the software producer equivalent of a signing statement to it", OSI's president, Simon Phipps, recently explained to Linux Journal. He continued:

They decided they would unilaterally add a patent grant with a defensive clause in it. They found they were able to do that for a while simply because the community accepted it. Over time it became apparent to people that it was actually not an acceptable patent grant, that it unduly favored Facebook and that if it was allowed to grow to scale, it would definitely create an environment where Facebook was unfairly advantaged.

He added that the Facebook incident was actually beneficial for OSI and ended up being a validation of the open-source approval process:

I think the consequence of that encounter is that more people are now convinced that the whole licensing arrangement that open-source software is under needs to be approved at OSI.

I think prior to that, people felt it was okay for there just to be a license and then for there to be arbitrary additional terms applied. I think that the consensus of the community has moved on from that. I think it would be brave for a future software producer to decide that they can add arbitrary terms unless those arbitrary terms are minimally changing the rights and benefits of the community.

As for the notion that OSI should be folded into a larger organization such as the Linux Foundation?

"When I first joined OSI, which was back in 2009 I think, I shared that view", Phipps said. He continued:

I felt that OSI had done its job and could be put into an existing organization. I came to believe that wasn't the case, because the core role that OSI plays is actually a specialist role. It's one that needs to be defined and protected. Each of the organizations I could think of where OSI could be hosted would almost certainly not be able to give the role the time and attention it was due. There was a risk there would be a capture of that role by an actor who could not be trusted to conduct it responsibly.

That risk of the license approval role being captured is what persuaded me that I needed to join the OSI board and that I needed to help it to revamp and become a member organization, so that it could protect the license approval role in perpetuity. That's why over the last five to six years, OSI has dramatically changed.

This is Phipps' second go at being president at OSI. He originally served in the position from 2012 until 2015, when he stepped down in preparation for the end of his term on the organization's board. He returned to the position last year after his replacement, Allison Randal, suddenly stepped down to focus on her pursuit of a PhD.

His return was pretty much universally seen in a positive light. During his first three-year stint, the organization moved toward a membership-based governance structure and started an affiliate membership program for nonprofit charitable organizations, industry associations and academic institutions. This eventually led to an individual membership program and the inclusion of corporate sponsors.

Although OSI is one of the best known open-source organizations, its grassroots approach has helped keep it on the lean side, especially when compared to organizations like the behemoth Linux or Mozilla Foundations. Phipps, for example, collects no salary for performing his presidential duties. Compare that with the Linux Foundation's executive director, Jim Zemlin, whose salary in 2010 was reportedly north of $300,000.

"We're a very small organization actually", Phipps said. He added:

We have a board of directors of 11 people and we have one paid employee. That means the amount of work we're likely do behind the scenes has historically been quite small, but as time is going forward, we're gradually expanding our reach. We're doing that through working groups and we're doing that through bringing together affiliates for particular projects.

While the public perception might be that OSI's role is merely the approval of open-source licenses, Phipps sees a larger picture. According to him, the point of all the work OSI does, including the approval process, is to pave the way to make the road smoother for open-source developers:

The role that OSI plays is to crystallize consensus. Rather than being an adjudicator that makes decisions ex cathedra, we're an organization that provides a venue for people to discuss licensing. We then identify consensus as it arises and then memorialize that consensus. We're more speaker-of-the-house than king.

That provides an extremely sound way for people to reduce the burden on developers of having to evaluate licensing. As open source becomes more and more the core of the way businesses develop software, it's more and more valuable to have that crystallization of consensus process taking out the uncertainty for people who are needing to work between different entities. Without that, you need to constantly be seeking legal advice, you need to constantly be having discussions about whether a license meets the criteria for being open source or not, and the higher uncertainty results in fewer contributions and less collaboration.

One of OSI's duties, and one it has in common with organizations such as the Free Software Foundation (FSF), is that of enforcer of compliance issues with open-source licenses. Like the FSF, OSI prefers to take a carrot rather than stick approach. And because it's the organization that approves open-source licenses, it's in a unique position to nip issues in the bud. Those issues can run the gamut from unnecessary licenses to freeware masquerading as open source. According to Phipps:

We don't do that in private. We do that fairly publicly and we don't normally need to do that. Normally a member of the license review mailing list, who are all simply members of the community, will go back to people and say "we don't think that's distinctive", "we don't think that's unique enough", "why didn't you use license so and so", or they'll say, "we really don't think your intent behind this license is actually open source." Typically OSI doesn't have to go and say those things to people.

The places where we do get involved in speaking to people directly is where they describe things as open source when they haven't bothered to go through that process and that's the point at which we'll communicate with people privately.

The problem of freeware—proprietary software that's offered without cost—being marketed under the open-source banner is particularly troublesome. In those cases, OSI definitely will reach out and contact the offending companies, as Phipps says, "We do that quite often, and we have a good track record of helping people understand why it's to their business disadvantage to behave in that way."

One of the reasons why OSI is able to get commercial software developers to heed its advice might be because the organization has never taken an anti-business stance. Founding member Michael Tiemann, now VP of open-source affairs at Red Hat, once said that one of the reasons the initiative chose the term "open source" was to "dump the moralizing and confrontational attitude that had been associated with 'free software' in the past and sell the idea strictly on the same pragmatic, business-case grounds that had motivated Netscape."

These days, the organization has ties with many major software vendors and receives most of its financial support from corporate sponsors. However, it has taken steps to ensure that corporate sponsors don't dictate OSI policy. According to Phipps:

If you want to join a trade association, that's what the Linux Foundation is there for. You can go pay your membership fees and buy a vote there, but OSI is a 501(c)(3). That's means it's a charity that's serving the public's interest and the public benefit.

It would be wrong for us to allow OSI to be captured by corporate interests. When we conceived the sponsorship scheme, we made sure that there was no risk that would happen. Our corporate sponsors do not get any governance role in the organization. They don't get a vote over what's happening, and we've been very slow to accept new corporate sponsors because we wanted to make sure that no one sponsor could have an undue influence if they decided that they no longer liked us or decided to stop paying the sponsorship fees.

This pragmatic approach, which also puts "permissive" licenses like Apache and MIT on equal footing with "copyleft" licenses like the GPL, has traditionally not been met with universal approval from FOSS advocates. The FSF's Richard Stallman has been critical of the organization, although noting that his organization and OSI are essentially on the same page. Years ago, OSI co-founder and creator of The Open Source Definition, Bruce Perens, decried the "schism" between the Free Software and Open Source communities—a schism that Phipps seeks to narrow:

As I've been giving keynotes about the first 20 years and the next ten years of open source, I've wanted to make very clear to people that open source is a progression of the pre-existing idea of free software, that there is no conflict between the idea of free software and the way it can be adopted for commercial or for more structured use under the term open source.

One of the things that I'm very happy about over the last five to six years is the good relations we've been able to have with the Free Software Foundation Europe. We've been able to collaborate with them over amicus briefs in important lawsuits. We are collaborating with them over significant issues, including privacy and including software patents, and I hope in the future that we'll be able to continue cooperating and collaborating. I think that's an important thing to point out, that I want the pre-existing world of free software to have its due credit.

Software patents represent one of several areas into which OSI has been expanding. Patents have long been a thorny issue for open source, because they have the potential to affect not only people who develop software, but also companies who merely run open-source software on their machines. They also can be like a snake in the grass; any software application can be infringing on an unknown patent. According to Phipps:

We have a new project that is just getting started, revisiting the role of patents and standards. We have helped bring together a post-graduate curriculum on open source for educating graduates on how to develop open-source software and how to understand it.

We also host other organizations that need a fiduciary host so that they don't have to do their own bookkeeping and legal filings. For a couple years, we hosted the Open Hatch Project, which has now wound up, and we host other activities. For example, we host the mailing lists for the California Association of Voting Officials, who are trying to promote open-source software in voting machines in North America.

Like everyone else in tech these days, OSI is also grappling with diversity issues. Phipps said the organization is seeking to deal with that issue by starting at the membership level:

At the moment I feel that I would very much like to see a more diverse membership. I'd like to see us more diverse geographically. I'd like to see us more diverse in terms of the ethnicity and gender of the people who are involved. I would like to see us more diverse in terms of the businesses from which people are employed.

I'd like to see all those improve and so, over the next few years (assuming that I remain president because I have to be re-elected every year by the board) that will also be one of the focuses that I have.

And to wrap things up, here's how he plans to go about that:

This year is the anniversary year, and we've been able to arrange for OSI to be present at a conference pretty much every month, in some cases two or three per month, and the vast majority of those events are global. For example, FOSSASIA is coming up, and we're backing that. We are sponsoring a hostel where we'll be having 50 software developers who are able to attend FOSSASIA because of the sponsorship. Our goal here is to raise our profile and to recruit membership by going and engaging with local communities globally. I think that's going to be a very important way that we do it.

https://ift.tt/2JzVVPf via @johanlouwers . follow me also on twitter

[quantumfizz]

Fanfiction: Does it Rain in the Mojave?

I wrote a fanfic involving two random OCs. Haven’t done this in a while. Enjoy!

“You think it’ll ever rain here?”

Tom looked up from his work. “What?”

“What, you deaf? Do you think it’ll ever rain?” Harry wasn’t working, he never did. Always stared up at the sky, or down at the dirt. Always asking questions that made no sense to Tom. Like the one he asked just now. ‘Hare-brained Harry’, everyone called him around the NCR Sharecropper Farms--though what the hell a ‘hare’ was, Tom had no clue.

Tom looked back down and went back to shucking maize. “It’s the fuckin’ Mojave,” he replied curtly, “It never rains.” And it never did in the Mojave, Tom had enough dry dirt under his nails to know it. The desert was rolling with dry dust and cracked earth that he’d seen for miles, going on for almost forever. He’d heard on the radio that there was a ski lodge in the mountains that had snow, but he’d never seen it. Besides, he didn’t want to; there were Mutants and Nightkin up there and God knows what else. Fuckin Muties.

His thoughts were interrupted by Harry’s pondering again. “It’s gotta rain somewhere though! Just because the bombs dropped, that doesn’t mean they kept the rain from coming down.” Tom noticed Harry frowning in intellectual concentration, and realized he was looking up and away from the maize he should’ve been shucking. With a grumble, he looked down and went back to work again, intent on not losing focus. Harry slumped down on a box, determined to solve the rain conundrum.

“Bombs blow stuff up, right? And the nuclear bombs from the War did special shit, they split atoms!” Harry whistled low. “I’m not really sure how it works, but I’m pretty sure if you split atoms, you can’t keep rain from falling. You just blow shit up and turn people into Ghouls.” He leaned back, satisfied. After a few seconds, he bent forward, concerned. “But what if they split all the water atoms in the air?”

Tom shucked his maize, trying to ignore Harry. What the hell is he talking about, getting worked up over nothing? Who cares if bombs split atoms; it’s getting out of the way of them that matters.

Apparently Harry cared. He jumped to his feet onto a nearby crate filled with Cram and began pacing back and forth, his hand glued to his chin. “So if the bombs did destroy every water atom in the atmosphere, then the power of the bombs from the War are so strong that atoms can’t come back from when they’re split! How could atoms be split apart like that and still leave the world standing?” He looked at Harry, hands shaking. “How would we even be alive, man?”

Tom kept shucking maize, faster.

“Maybe we aren’t alive.” Harry slumped down onto his crate. “No-Bark, this guy down in Novac, he said he’s seen lights up in the sky. What if they’re aliens, watching us? Keeping tabs on us? Maybe they made the world and us, and we aren’t even real!” He grabbed Tom’s shoulder. “We might not be real, man!”

Tom stopped shucking maize.

With one fell swoop, Harry found his paranoid theories (and his body) grounded back to reality by Tom’s right fist. He spat dry dust out of his mouth, and felt blood starting to pool. After a few seconds of starting at the cracked dirt of the Mojave, he stared up at Tom, eyes adjusting to the blinding mid-afternoon sun. Tom grabbed him by the flannel shirt and pulled him close, so close you could smell the combination of whiskey, gecko steak, and frustration.

“Harry,” he growled, “You remember when they signed me up to work with you ‘cause nobody else wanted to?”

Harry nodded.

“You know why nobody else wanted to work with you?”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s ‘cause you are the most mouthy, oblivious, annoying fuckin’ person in the goddamn Wasteland and your fuckin’ tangents make anyone you work with wanna put a bullet in either their head or yours. And trust me, you’re real; the bullet’s gonna go in your head just like a real person. Don’t overthink it.”

Tom dropped Harry back onto the ground, and left him to ponder his words. He hoped that he’d do it quietly for once. While Harry was silently sitting in the dirt, Tom went back to working with his maize. Harry kept sitting, just staring out into the Mojave.

The silence continued for about ten minutes.

Tom glanced over at Harry, who was lying on his back and fiddling with his thumbs. “It doesn’t rain because of the mountains,” he muttered.

Harry turned his head. “Huh?”

“You were wondering why it doesn’t rain,” Tom replied. “My sister is in the OSI; she says that the mountains around the Mojave keep rain clouds from forming. That’s why it doesn’t rain much.” He went back to shucking.

Harry went back to staring at the sky. Tom looked at him from the corner of his eye and caught a small satisfied smile on Harry’s face.