#low grav au

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖: 𝕃𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕩/ ℙ𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖

🥀Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact 

🥀Au: sci fi au, space station au

🥀Trope: long distance relationship, ex to lovers

🥀Summary: when Yunho calls you one day, drunk and missing you, you let him guide you through some stress releasing phone sex

🥀Kinks: long distance sex, verbal instruction, dom! yunho, sub! reader, joint masturbation, video call sex, usage of toys

🥀Word Count: 1,515

🥀Betas: @mejuii

🥀Day Eight: Experimental/ Nipple play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Ten: Hate Sex

You were about to go for your afternoon run through the park that was built on the grav-wheel of your space station when you got a notification on your watch that you had an incoming call from your ex. You sighed, well aware that he would not stop calling you unless you at least answered.

“Yunho,” You answered blandly.

“Babe,” Yunho chirped at you in hello.

You looked at the planet timezones on your watch and it was way too late on earth for Yunho to be calling you about something reasonable. “Are you drunk?”

“Nooooooo,” Yunho replied.

“Yunho, you can’t be calling me like this,” You said, taking a seat back on the bunk of your room. “I broke up with you before I left on this mission, remember?”

“I know,” Yunho admitted, “But I missed you.”

“Goodbye, Yunho,” You proclaimed.

“No no, wait!” Yunho attempted to stop you.

“Yunho, you’re not making this easy!” You cried out in frustration.

“Did you find someone up there to fuck yet?” Yunho shot low. “I know how your libido is. And you don’t fuck randoms.”

“No, Yunho, I did not find someone up here to fuck,” You sighed heavily. “Not that that’s any of your business.”

Suddenly, Yunho turned the camera on on his side, and his face flashed on the screen before you. By the look of his rosy complexion, he had absolutely been drinking. “Let me fuck you then.”

You laughed bitterly. “I hate to break it to you, Yunho, but we’re a couple of lightyears away from each other right now. This isn’t a normal booty call.”

“Please turn your camera on,” Yunho pleaded, “I want to see you.”

You don’t know what’s worse, Yunho still having the hots for you or Yunho sounding like he still loved you. You might as well let this play out. If you hung up on him, he was just going to be calling again and again. So you pulled out the small camera that would hover and take in your form and turned it on.

“There’s my girl,” Yunho said softly, moving over your face as if he was attempting to memorize it again.

“I’m not your girl anymore, Yunho,” You gently remind him.

“You are,” Yunho insisted, “Watch.”

Yunho sat back, the camera taking in more of his form. You groaned when you saw he was wearing your favorite shirt on him. Then he said, “Pretty girl, won’t you open your mouth for me?”

Your jaw went slack, muscle memory from a time before. Then you clenched your jaw tight, in both anger and rebellion. “Really?”

Yunho had a tiny smile of confidence on his face. “See? Your body still knows who you belong to even though you refuse to acknowledge it.”

You turned your face away from the camera, feeling your throat go tight and hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. “What’s the point of this call, Yunho?”

“No, Babe, don’t cry!” Yunho lamented. “I wanted to hear your voice and see your face, even if you were pissed off at me.”

“I’m not pissed off at you, Yunho, I just don’t want to be pining after a man who is so far away from me that it would distract me from my mission.”

“Look at me,” Yunho commanded in a rough voice.

You brought your eyes upwards and saw Yunho had moved closer to the camera. “When was the last time you released some stress?”

You laughed bitterly. “Yunho!”

“I may not be your dom anymore. I may not be in charge of your wellbeing. But I still care. I can help you.”

“This is ridiculous,” You muttered. And yet your body found itself assuming the position in front of your bunk: feet tucked under you and your hands folded on your lap. You knew you needed the help and the release. The closer you got to the planet that your mission was on, the more tightly wound your body got.

“Close your eyes for me,” Yunho crooned. “Imagine that you’re sitting on my lap. You’ve been good today and I’m treating you.”

You didn’t like the way your body instantly tightened at that sentence but you had spent way too many years with Yunho for it to forget something so quickly. “Yu…Sir?”

“My hands are wandering all over your body,” Yunho’s even voice continued to paint the picture. “I’m running them down your arms, up your ribs, over your hips, just appreciating all your curves.”

You whimpered at the imagine of his large hands over your body. There was nothing you used to enjoy more than Yunho manhandling you. You used to be a ragdoll for him. And he used to fulfill you in ways that always made you sleep soundly at night. 

“Were you a good girl for me?” Yunho’s deep voice permeated your eardrums.

“Yes, sir, I was good,” You replied.

“Then take your clothes off for me, pretty girl, I won’t tease you tonight,” He cooed.

You discarded your work out clothes and moved back to your previous stance. “Can we use the rose toy?” You asked.

“Wanna feel my tongue on your pretty pussy?” Yunho wondered.

“Wanna feel good,” You hummed. 

“Go on,” Yunho gave you permission. “Spread your legs so I can eat you out.”

You prepared yourself and the chosen toy, lubing up everything. Yunho had always been a messy eater, an enthusiastic one, but a messy eater nonetheless. Anything to make sure his sub came and came hard.

You pushed down the tiny floating camera to the level of your cunt and Yunho groaned on the screen. “I miss your taste,” he admitted.

You missed the way Yunho would press your thighs down, effectively spreading your legs to max capacity. The way he would pepper your inner thighs with kisses, eyes looking up at you, waiting for you to beg for him. For Yunho, when he dommed you, you were his entire world and nothing else existed. 

“Sir?”

“Let me hear all the cute noises you make when I eat you out, pretty girl.” Yunho gave you the go ahead to use the toy on yourself.

You let out a muffled moan as the toy laps at your folds on a low setting. 

“Poor baby,” Yunho sympathized, “You really needed me, huh?”

“Need you so bad, sir,” You whimpered back.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Yunho praised you, “Taking all my love like the good girl you are.”

“I’m always good for you, Yunnie,” You can’t help but say, bucking up into the toy, “Can we go faster, sir?”

“You like my tongue on your clit that much, huh?” Yunho asked.

“Feels so good,” You slurred, half drunk on Yunho’s praise and the other half on the pleasure you were pretending he was giving you. 

“Wanna come for your Sir?” Yunho prompted you. He cursed and you blinked wearily to see that he had his legs spread and was lazily rubbing one out while ordering what to do.

“Please, Yunho, please. Come with me. Nothing makes me happier than listening to your groans.”

Yunho smiled quite happily but shook his head. “This is all about you, Babe.”

You turned up the speed on the toy and then cast your head back onto the bunk behind you. “Fuck, Sir, your tongue, so good, hhhhhnn, I wanna come for you, please, please, please.”

“Go on, pretty girl, let my tongue take you away, come for me, let me taste your cum, give your sir exactly what he wants,” Yunho instructed.

Your hips stuttered forward, riding out your high, pushing the toy further into your folds, mimicking as Yunho used to do, dipping his tongue into your hole to scoop all your cum into his mouth. 

There were no noises in your room for a moment, your toy turned off and discarded, before Yunho said, “Fuck, I missed you.”

“Yu--” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat. “Yunho--!”

“I know,” Yunho sighed rather glumly. “I just wanted to help you.”

“I--” You swallowed down some emotions. “I needed it.”

“You were so good for me, Babe,” Yunho couldn't help but push. “You did good.”

There was still a part of you that preened at Yunho’s praise. “Th-thank you, Sir.”

“You should go clean yourself up,” Yunho suggested, sounding wistful. 

You gathered your clothing, finding yourself suddenly not willing to end the call.

“Yunho?” 

“Mmm?” He hummed back at you.

“Do you think you could help me again?”

A pause, palpable and raw. And then, “If you let me order a toy for us, then yes.”

That made your proverbial ears perk up. “What kind of toy?

“The one where you get a scan of your pussy so I can fuck it and you get a scan of my dick so it can fuck you, and when i’m fucking your toy pussy, my toy dick moves as my dick is moving,” Yunho chuckled.

“Oh,” You said quietly, letting those words sink in.

“Yeah,” Yunho grinned, “So? You want to become my pretty girl again? Officially?”

🥀Day Eight: Experimental/ Nipple play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Ten: Hate Sex

[birgittesilverbae]

in a wn subnautica au it could be really cool if ava usually needs like a mobility device above water BUT due to the fact that subnautica is literally underwater AND you can fabricate a little powered water propulsion device, ava actually can get along quite well solo. idk i just think the environment allows for a neat acknowledgement of avas disability in a way that doesn't immediately fix it with a halo ex machina yknow?

yeah exactly that's what I was angling at with the first ask. an Ava who's used to using the Aurora's drones as her eyes and ears in places she's unable to access because her chair doesn't fit, an Ava who would have thrived in low- and no-grav if she hadn't been stuck in the halls of the ship, who looked on with longing every time she passed the Vehicle Bay and saw the PRAWN Suits hanging in their rigging. The rumours in the caf and in the bunkrooms about modules for pilots with limited mobility that she ate up with far more relish than the nutrient blocks

the thrill of it when she realizes the seaglide works perfectly for her, lets her legs drift behind her in a streamline as she rockets through the water. entering and exiting the seamoth can feel at times like the learning curve of those first few days after she'd gotten a new chair, getting into the rhythm of mount and dismount, the movements working muscles in her arms and shoulders and upper back that weren't used to that specific pattern of recruitment. the vast majority of the controls there are hand-worked as well.

the PRAWN Suit doesn't even require a separate module, she realizes once she's deep in sub-menus and staring at commands for reassigning inputs. she could have been using one this whole time, if she had only had the blueprints from the outset, if she hadn't had to drag herself through miles and miles of the Aurora's burning corpse to find them in the wreckage of the vehicle bay

she unearths blueprints for the Cyclops and examines them on her PDA, spins the holograph of the ship this way and that with frank disgust. this so-called mobile base, this one-stop shop for everything she'd need to make what seems like the final run through the depths she needs to save herself, is completely inaccessible to her. instead, she builds herself microbase after microbase to keep caches of supplies in helpful places, takes the prawn deeper and deeper and deeper and fears the day she pitches over a blind cliff she can't pull herself back out of.

in the end, she always finds herself trending back towards the surface, towards her first base in those safe shallow waters, where she'd laid platforms just beneath the surface that she could move amongst with ease, accessing planter beds and solar panels and basking in the sun

[kanerallels]

For my 501st follower celebration, as requested by @accidental-spice, a chunk from the Wraith Squadron being trained by Vos and Ventress au! (A little context: Sierra is a Jedi OC of a.spice's who can see the future. You'll see how that's relevant in a minute)

The Wraiths were relaxing in their lounge. Which, of course, meant that a low scale form of chaos reigned. Shalla and Donos were having a push-up competition, at which Shalla was winning with ease while Runt, Tyria, Wes Janson and Dia were placing bets on who’d win. Piggy and Face were playing Dejarik at the board in the corner, Kell was messing with something that looked suspiciously like an alarm clock with several things of dynamite strapped to it, and Phanan was sitting back with a glass of whiskey and watching the whole thing unfold.

Oh, and distracting Face from his game from time to time so he’d lose.

Leaning over a little, he slurped from his glass loudly right next to Face’s ear, and the former actor threw him an annoyed look. “Could you not?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Phanan said innocently. “Is this—” he slurped again, louder, from his cup— “bothering you?”

Face let out a long, aggravated sigh just as a loud whistle caught Phanan’s attention. He turned to see Vos strolling into the lounge, carrying a large crate under one arm, a duffle bag hanging from the other, and propelling another crate with its anti-gravs turned on with his foot.

“Attention, Wraiths,” he said cheerfully. “Donos, please quit while you’re still alive, we’ll need you in the future.”

Donos dropped to the ground, taking a heaving breath, while Shalla carried on, looking completely unaffected. Vos coughed. “Uh, you, too, Shalla.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, popping up from her position and to her feet.

“Inhuman,” Donos said, sitting up with a groan.

“Told you,” Kell pointed out.

As the Wraiths who’d been spectating exchanged money, Phanan said, “So, not to be the curious one, but my superior intellect—” he was interrupted by groans from Kell, Face, and Tyria— “can’t help but notice that you’ve got some baggage there.”

“So I do,” Vos said with a devious grin. “I’ve got another practice mission for you guys.”

Perking up, Kell asked, “Are we robbing another bank?”

Phanan sighed. “I can’t believe you sent Runt and Kell to rob a bank but not me. You two get all the interesting missions.”

“In all fairness, you’ve done some interesting things in your time,” Vos pointed out. “And they had to put the money back— you did, right?”

“Of course,” Kell said.

“Absolutely,” Runt said.

Vos looked deeply skeptical, but apparently decided to move on. “Anyways, this one’s a little different. You need to take control of a large building and prevent the people inside from leaving.” Setting down his crate, he flipped it open, revealing a lot of blasters. “These are your weapons for this situation.”

“Oooooh,” Phanan said. “This is very much my kind of mission.”

Dia got to her feet, peering at the blasters. “These aren’t standard issues— these are the kind that you’d get if you were in a pirate’s crew. Piecemeal, bottom of the barrel— those aren’t even legal.”

Peering over her shoulder, Vos said, “Whoops. Those weren’t supposed to be in there.” Grabbing a pair of rifles, he slung them over his shoulder. “There, now these are your weapons for this situation.”

“What’s in the bag?” Face asked.

“Disguises,” Vos said. “You’re using the contents of these boxes and this bag—  or, for that matter, anything else you have in this room— to take over the building in question.”

“Has Commander Antilles signed off on this one?” Donos asked.

“He can’t actually sign off on it, as he’s been called off-world on an important matter,” Vos said. “Therefore, I’m in charge, and I say yes.”

A grin spread across Phanan’s face. “You planned this.”

“I didn’t not plan it, we’ll just say that,” Vos told him. “Now, everyone’s in on this one. Your goal— on the forty-seventh floor of the building I’ve had a datacard hidden. Get that and bring it to me, and you’ll have succeeded. No casualties, and no one gets caught. Understood?”

“This seems extremely illegal,” Tyria said with a frown.

“That’s because it is,” Vos told her. “If you get caught, you’re definitely going to jail. I have a safe house set up for you in the lower levels. Just head there when you’re done. Please don’t embarrass me and all go the same way—”

“We’ll split up,” Face assured him. “We’ve been at this a while now, you know.”

“I know,” Vos said with a grin. “And if anyone can pull this off, it’s the Wraiths.”

“I’ve got another question,” Phanan said. “Where are we holding up?”

Vos’s expression twisted into something half-grin, half-grimace. “Tyria, Shalla, Donos— you’re really not gonna like this.”

~

Bail Organa was strolling through the Senate Building on his way to lunch with his friend, Padme Amidala and her family. It had been a long session, but not as long as some that the Alderaanian senator had been through. It would be good, he thought, to see Padme and Anakin. It had been a long time— and he always enjoyed visiting with their children, whenever the twins were around, although that was less and less these days.

As he headed for the turbolift, he spotted Mon Mothma chatting with the young senator from Bothawui. An ambitious fellow, if Bail had ever met one, but he meant well, in his own way.

Doesn’t have the best grasp of Coruscanti politics yet, Bail mused. Perhaps I should offer to give him a hand. He reconsidered the thought quickly, however, after recalling the Bothan’s aggression on the Senate floor that afternoon. He had a feeling that any offers of help would be turned down at the least and probably taken the wrong way.

Bail keyed the button for the turbolift, and was patiently waiting when a thunderous boom shook the Senate building. Feeling himself tense, Bail scanned the room, wondering what had caused the quake— and then the door to the turbolift hissed open, revealing a large group of beings, all wearing bandit masks except for one man, who appeared to be wearing a very large tube sock with one eye hole and a mouth hole cut in it.

The leader lifted a blaster rifle up to his shoulder, and spoke in a casual tone. “Hands in the air, Senator. We don’t want any trouble.”

“Other than what we’re bringing,” added a woman’s voice in the back, and a murmur of laughter went through the group.

Hmm, Bail thought. So this is what Sierra was talking about when she told me not to panic at work today. Raising his hands in the air, he stepped back as the masked group stepped out of the lift.This should be very interesting, he mused.

[dectech]

it is times like these I wish I hadn't forgotten my au with survivor, artificer and Saint. I mean, I still kinda remember it, but I definitely can't explain it now as well as I could have, considering I haven't been a major part of the fandom for a while now. May as well give it a shot though. wait a damn minute hold on. Nevermind, I found the original two asks I sent to my friend about the AU that explained it thoroughly.

part 1. part 2.

it has changed slightly since its inception here, I'll give you a (not-so-)brief rundown of what's changed under the cut if you're interested. be warned, I am very tired so this is probably written rather sloppily. proceed at your own discretion

Each Scug's karma-related "power" starts off weak and then gets more potent the further along their journey they go. For example, Saint's Death Pop would start out as a raw, unrefined and unfocused blast of void energy that would send enemies flying away and could kill any who were directly hit by it, and Saint would also have low-grav while the ability is active. Then, as Saint finds more echoes, The Death Pop would take a creature out of the world for several cycles, although they would come back eventually, and Saint would have the ability to "steer" the trajectory of their low-grav jumps mid-air. Finally, as Saint reaches Karma Level 10, The Death Pop would become the true Death Pop we all know and love, deleting targets from reality and giving Saint straight-up flight while active.

This also applies to Survivor's abilities. when Surv first unlocks it, it functions as described in the post linked (albeit roughly, as I no longer completely agree with what past-me wrote there. think of it more as a general concept). At some point, Surv is able to hone it further (not sure how) and it lets them create temporary hard-light shields that can also be launched forwards or used as platforms (inspired by the close association of the survival urge with shields, but also really just because it would be Cool and Interesting for Surv to have, as a treat). Wounds also rapidly heal while active. The tremor debuff is made less severe, and the boost briefly reaches claw-and-punch-your-way-out-of-a-leviathan's-stomach-through-its-abdomen levels of powerful. The final level, reached through the events described in part 2, gives Survivor the ability to heal others and shrug off ascension (including Saint's Death Pop) like gourmand is able of occasionally shrugging off a spear.

Unfortunately, I never got around to figuring out what Artificer's ability should be, aside from becoming even more of absolute killing machine. Maybe she could "curse" targets across multiple cycles?

I was never quite certain HOW Survivor should "unlock" their abilities, but one of the ways I came up with (and just about the only one I can remember) involved a kind of crossover with Daszombes' Iterator Logs and Region Concepts series, The Tower and Silent Light, to be specific, with a change (which I suppose could make this an AU of an AU). beware of spoilers below, if you haven't seen it

...

...

...

..

Essentially, Survivor accidentally falls into the primordial void container after being ambushed by a vulture. As they drift downwards, a kind of apparition of Silent light appears, telling them to fight against it, to persist, that their story is not over, and so on, motivating Survivor and guiding them out. as they emerge, they are changed by the experience (would put more detail into this but I am very tired).

there was also something I came up with inspired by Pansear Doodle's Heretics, but it's rather long, but I can at least give the bare bones here.

To make a long story short, Survivor beats the ever-loving hell out of Saint for forcefully ascending all those close to them and Saint is only able to come out on top because having all of their friends and family ripped away from them shattered Survivor's resolve and made them have a meltdown, giving a window of opportunity for Saint to actually ascend Survivor. Then, in the new loop, as a result of the same kind of deja vu we see in monk, Surv does NOT trust Saint at ALL. like they just meet them and freeze, and you can hear the gears turning in Surv's head as they try to figure out why they were suddenly struck with the distressingly vivid image of them bashing in saint's skull with a brick in a tearful fit of earth-shattering rage and grief, hard enough to send gunshot-like noises echoing over the horizon(obviously not Survivor's finest moment). And then they see other scugs around them experience some degree of deja vu involving saint, and they talk about it with them (being careful to avoid mentioning their own deja vu experience) and Survivor's just like "why the hell did I see THAT". Thing is, as shown at the end of Heretics, Saint may indeed be starting to change their ways, but they'd be hard pressed to convince Survivor with the mounting suspicion they're beginning to have against saint. Again, to make a VERY long story short, these two end up having whole ass character arcs together spanning massive chunks of their entire lifetimes, ending in them eventually reconciling after a very long, turbulent road and a lot of character development between the two of them. again, I did my best to keep this as brief as possible.

that's all I remember right now, and I'd like to not have this grow too long, so I'm gonna end this here. I don't.. really know how to naturally conclude this. Bye!

you know what, I did oc lore (you can still send oc lore btw) what about au lore?

so many cool aus I have never heard about, or struggle to remember

Feel free to share Rain world AU lore!

[tuckerteal]

I just thought of the softest simple au,, I’m just going to call it the low-grav AU for now:

The Low-Grav AU: Everything is exactly the same but Blood Gulch has slightly lower gravity than normal.

(also Wash and Carolina are here too)

All the future-tech allows all supplies + armor be super lightweight:

Everyone floats a little bit off the ground, Lopez (and Shelia) are the only ones who are actually able to ‘walk’ on the ground normally.

Lopez: (fixing the Warthog, points at wrench) <Donut, pass that wrench to me.>

Donut: Okay! (Tosses the wrench to him, it ends up starting to float away) 

Lopez: (office stare)

Every time Church’s robot bodies get shot, they just. Float up. Leaving the AI/spirit form behind. Like that one gif of winnie the pooh’s spirit ascending.

Donut grows and tends to a mini floating vegetable garden. It’s built out of old crates tied to the top of Red Base, Sarge and Lopez helped with that part. Donut even gave Wash a little floating patch to take care of to “de-stress”. 

My favorite idea about this: Beds. The R&Bs have lightweight mattresses that have grav-locks to keep them (and whoever is in them) in place while they sleep. 

Caboose keeps forgetting to lock the bed and he ends up floating out of the base in his sleep (the base has no doors!). It’s part of Church and Tucker’s daily morning routine to go out and look for him. 

Once, Caboose ended up floating into Red Base. No one minded at all, in fact, Donut even made an extra plate of pancakes. The Reds probably assumed that Sarge had invited him along, since he’s basically a honorary Red at this point...

Grif doesn’t like to sleep on the mattresses, so he usually ends up sleeping in the air within the base. Sometimes he sleeps under the sky (on top of the base on along the hill), it reminds him of his old home on Earth. 

Wash gets the best sleep he’s had in decades. That’s it. That’s the AU.

Ok this is ending up a little longer than I expected, so more below under the cut!

Carolina decides to use the lack of gravity to try new training drills with the R&Bs. She starts by telling them that they could pretend to be Star Wars characters to make the training fun. (”Just... pretend you’re using the Force when you vault, Simmons!”) The conversation takes a tangent as they start to argue who would get what lightsaber color. 

Sarge insists Grif is so boring that he should have a white lightsaber, Simmons corrects him by saying that white sabers were actually the highest honor a Jedi could get. Grif calls him a nerd. Simmons rolls his eyes “Actually, geek is the correct term here.” 

They end up not training but ultimately end up deciding that Carolina would defeat General Grievous in one go, and that O’Malley was a better villain than Kylo Ren.

Carolina smiles a lot that day. We should do this more often.

Church looses his body. A lot. Anytime something hits his body, the AI just. Misaligns. (”Tucker did it!”) Sometimes he gives up on trying to stay in the robot body and decides to ‘armor hop’ as Epsilon.

His first option is always Carolina. They’re pretty close at this point, since they’re basically siblings in some twisted manner. Her mind is unusually clear at night, and Church appreciates the quiet. 

Church doesn’t willingly stay in Tucker’s armor; his sleep is surprisingly disturbed with worries about the future, or Junior. Church has stayed in his armor a couple times, both times neither of them ended up sleeping (sleepover vent time babey!!).

He hasn’t stayed with Wash yet. 

Although he wouldn’t tell anyone, Caboose’s armor is his favorite to stay in. It feels like coming home. Church can actually feel Caboose’s care about him nearly personify every time he is there. It’s nice to know there was someone who did actually care about Church. The R&B-sonas in Caboose’s mind aren’t actually that bothersome, and he’s even had some super genuine talks with mind-Caboose.

As a cyborg, Simmons makes mini thrusters/boosters/idk the term for himself so that he can float around more easily and directly. He offers to make them for the rest of the team but Grif refuses because he wanted to “postpone the cyborg uprising”. Simmons scoffs, but he thinks that defence is ridiculously hilarious.

Kai throws the most Wild raves. She’d get award for creativity if there were Oscars for rave-hosting. 

Kai also joins Grif on top of Red Base some nights when she’s homesick.

Tucker has a bunch of baby blankets left over from when Junior was younger, so he’s set them up floating in one corner of Blue Base (it’s known as “Cyan Comfort Corner” because they’re uncreative as hell). Blue Team has too many emotional problems, and Tucker thought it would be nice to be there for his friends in some way. Wash spends a lot of time sitting under the layers of floating blankets.

I’m imagining a bunch of mismatched blankets sitting in the air like a weird slice of lasagna, if that helps picture it at all adskfjhfkjsfh

That’s basically all I have right now, but I will definitely add more if I think of anything. Feel free to add more if you want! 💞

[insomniamamma]

Stuck: Ezra x f!Reader

A/N: This is written for @littleferal ‘s Writer’s Iron Chef. The prompt was “Half the names on the list have already been crossed off.“ A chance meeting on Hanratty’s Bench may lead to better things. This is an one-shot and not connected to any of my other Prospect AUs.

Warnings: brief non-descript mention of suicide. language. references to past violence. alcohol mentions.

          Every day is the same old same old, wake and scan the boards, hoping for something other than a three-day drop downworld, mining salt with a suited crew of fellow short timers, everyone hoping to make enough to buy passage damn near anywhere else, make enough over bench-scrip to C conversion. They've got you by the short and curlies unless you can get in good with a non-local outfit. There are a couple crews you know, making the circuit between here and Arlen, a simple two-sling swing, round and round about, but that would be better than here. Anything would. Get on a ship, even a small hauler and you've got more chance at something better. But you always seem to get passed by. You're starting to wonder if you're going to spend the rest of your days on this grimy bench, unloading cargo cans for just enough scrip to feed you and buy booze enough to keep you from marching yourself into the nearest airlock and hot-wiring that son of a bitch.          According to the boards a big intersystem cruiser is due to dock, the kind that travels far enough to fly under spin, to make grav enough so people can survive long term,  something that can get you out of here. You set three alarms. You want to be the first to hit the boards and start spamming your credentials, such as they are. Being a janitor on an intersystemer still gets you the fuck out of Hanratty's System, and now that's all you really want. Fame and fortune and all the things you thought you wanted when you first went offworld be damned. You have to look at someplace else or you will go insane.          Your alarm trills and you are making your way down the ring and to the boards before you are even properly awake. You log yourself in.          "What the fuck? Half the names on the list are already crossed off!" You yell without meaning to, tears prick your eyes, you go about sending your info the the dwindling list of crews looking to take on another. Fuck. You won't get another chance in who knows how long? This system is not exactly prime real estate. No one is responding, no one is pinging you back. Not entirely unexpected but it still hurts. How many long-liners have to pass through this dump before you accept that you're stuck here? That you've marooned yourself? All for the promise of somewhere better?          "Excuse me, miss?" A voice soft and low over your shoulder, and you whirl on him, all the tension expending itself and he raises his hands, one flesh and one articulated metal.          "I didn't mean to scare you, but I think we may be drinking from the same trough." He is smiling and pretty, and you don't trust him. You drop your hand to the thrower on your hip.          "How so?"          "Not one to mince words are you, Birdie? If you are demanding a blunt assessment I will give it to you. You are fresh out of a well, stuck on a shit-splat of a bench with few skills and no prospects. You have the strength of your body and mind on offer. And precious little else." He shrugs theatrically. "As you can see, I am diminished. I lost much of my fine motor control when I had to lose my arm."          "You're looking for clever hands."          "I am."          "And what do I get? Besides off this miserable low g hellhole?"          "You get the whole of the Great Arm if Kevva smiles upon us."          "Liar." He grins at you.          "On occasion," he says, "Look. You want off this little patch of nowhere, and I have had difficulty finding reliable crew. I've got three drops lined up along the intersystemer's flight path. You sign on with me for those three drops and we renegotiate when we reach Puggart Bench. If you find the work not to your liking we'll part ways there. Or you can wait and see how this plays out." He gestures at the rapidly diminishing  list of crew slots and offers.          "Say I sign. What's my cut?"          "Even split."          "You're trying to scam me. Or trick me. No one offers an even split." He smiles but there is a tiredness to it, a sadness.          "My days of arguing over every point on every pull are done," he says, "In the end all that gets you is crewmates willing to slit your throat in your sleep. Or leave you stranded on some Kevva forsaken rock."          "You know what it's like to be stuck."          "I do."          "Alright, I'm in," you say and offer your hand. His prosthetic hand folds stiffly around yours. "Three drops. And then we see where we stand."          "Three drops," he smiles big and bright, showing dimples in his scruffy cheeks, "I'm Ezra, by the way. Don't think I caught your name, Little Bird."

[pupyzu]

hi! can i get names/pronouns related to bright colours + science and possibly kidcore? i already use chem/chems (like chemistry :])

i have kidcore pronouns here! the rest are under the cut!

BRIGHT COLORS:

blu/blu/blus/bluself

blue/blues/blueself

bri/bright/brights/brightself

co/col/color/colors/colorself

green/green/greens/greens/greenself

neon - ne/ne/(neo/neos)/neself

or/ora/oran/orans/orangeself, oranself, or oraself

pi/(pin/pink)/pinks/pinkself

pri/mar/mars/primaryself

pur/pur/purs/purpleself

pur/purp/purs/purpleself, purpself, or purself

rai/rain/bow/bows/rainbowself

re/red/reds/redself

red/red/reds/reds/redself

reh/re/rez/rez/redself

te/teal/ter/ter/tealself

ye/low/lows/yellowself

yel/yel/yels/yelself

･┈┈･･⟡ ∞ ⟡･･┈┈･

SCIENCE:

ag/ag/(ag/ags)/agself

al/al/(al/als)/alself

ana/tomy/anatomy/anaself

astro/astros/astroself

astro/nomy/astroself

at/atom/atoms/atomself

atom/atoms/atomself

au/aur/(aur/aurs)/aurself

beaker/beakers/beakerself

bi/bi/(bir/birs)/biself

bi/bio/bios/bioself

bi/muth/bis/bismu/bismuthself or bismuself

bio/bios/bioself

bio/chem/bios/chems/biochemself

biology/biology/biologyself

bo/bron/ron/rons/bronzeself

bot/tany/botany/botanself

botany/botanys/botanyself

cell/cells/cellself

che/chem/chemis/chemself

chem/chemis/chemiself

chem/mical/chemself

climate/climates/climateself

data/datas/dataself

earth/earths/earthself

eco/ecology/ecoself

elec/electro/electroself

elec/tricity/electriself

fe/fer/(feir/feirs)/ferself (feself)

fe/ferr/ferrs/ferrself

fossil/fossils/fossilself

gene/genes/geneself

geo/geos/geoself

geo/logy/geology/geoself

grav/vity/gravself

gravity/gravities/gravityself

gravity/gravitys/gravityself

hypo/thesis/hypoself

lab/labs/labself

lab/ratory/labself

li/lith/(lis/lis)/liself (lithself)

magnet/magnets/magnetself

mass/masses/masself

matter/matters/matterself

mineral/minerals/mineralself

mole/cule/moleself

mole/moles/moleself

na/nar/(naer/naers)/narself (naself/naeself)

nature/natures/natureself

ne/ne/(neo/neos)/neself

ne/neo/neodym/neode/neodymself

neo/neon/neonself

ni/nic/(nic/nics)/nicself

o/oxy/(oxys/oxys)/oself (oxself)

organism/organisms/organismself

paleo/paleos/paleoself

phy/phys/phys/physself

phys/sics/physics/phyself

pla/plat/tin/tinum/platinumself or platinself

pra/pra/praseo/pras/praseoself

quantum/quantums/quantumself

scale/scales/scaleself

sci/scis/sciself

scien/tist/scientist/scienself

science/sciences/scienceself

scientist/scientists/scientistself

ta/tax/tax/taxoself

ta/tom/omi/omic/atomicself or atomself

theo/theory/theoryself

theory/theorys/theoryself

ti/tiat/tain/tani/titaniumself or titaniself

tu/tung/en/sten/tungstenself

volume/volumes/volumeself

way/wave/wave/waveself

xe/xe/(xer/xers)/xeself (xerself)

zoo/zoology/zooself

☢️/☢️s/☢️self

☣️/☣️s/☣️self

♻️/♻️s/♻️self

⚠️/⚠️s/⚠️self

🌍/🌍s/🌍self

🌎/🌎s/🌎self

🌏/🌏s/🌏self

🌡/🌡s/🌡self

📡/📡s/📡self

🔍/🔍s/🔍self

🔎/🔎s/🔎self

🔬/🔬s/🔬self

🔭/🔭s/🔭self

🚀/🚀s/🚀self

🛰/🛰s/🛰self

🦠/🦠s/🦠self

🧪/🧪s/🧪self

🧫/🧫s/🧫self

🧬/🧬s/🧬self

🩺/🩺s/🩺self

[defiantgalaxy]

seven of nine for the ask game 💞

a song that reminds me of them

in cold light by vanbur

what they smell like

@tomvorikandharry​ summed this up quite nicely. i guess in fanfiction terms i’d probably say something like ‘metal and electricity with a hint of something uniquely her own’ lmao

an otp

i love what i’ve seen of seven/raffi, but i’m also a fan of b’elanna/7. i am also now slightly obsessed with the idea of kira nerys and seven meeting but probably as a brotp.

a notp

chakotay/7. it’s just,,, not good. after all the development of janeway/chakotay, too ☹

favorite platonic/familial relationships

naomi wildman and icheb! i love how seven gets to take on an older sibling/mentor role. i think her relationship with icheb really helps seven begin to understand and heal from her own trauma as well as helping icheb through his. i also love the way seven and janeway learn a lot from each other about humanity and identity.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with

not sure! but i do have one that i absolutely agree with, which is that seven is autistic 😊

the position they sleep in

i feel like after years of sleeping upright in her regeneration alcove it’d be weird for her to sleep in any other position than flat on her back. that or upright and held up by something (i’m picturing the way astronauts sleep in low/no grav in those lil sleeping pack with strap things).

a crossover au i’d love to see them in

i want seven and spock to meet. i think that’d be neat. but also seven and kira (i’m hopeless) so seven on ds9 would be cool as heck. except sisko might not be super thrilled about having an ex-borg around, at least at first.

my favorite outfit they’ve ever worn

other than her wearing a proper uniform… i love everything she wears in the killing game episodes. the silvery dress?? the beret and floral dress? the black turtleneck?? all iconic and i’m v gay. i haven’t seen picard yet but i also love her outfit in that. it feels very authentically her.

send me a character ✨

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Seek and Destroy

Pairing: Namjoon x reader featuring ot7 and Monsta X though not specifically by individual member name

Warnings: None really? Mild violence, bomb explosions, member injury, heavy sports junk (The angst Queen did it to em I’m sorry lol)

Word count: 2609

Au: sports/ Halo aka grifball. Futuristic twist on rugby

A/n: Okay so I know not many will understand the ins and outs of the Halo universe unless you’re a gamer lol. Keeping that in mind I tried hard to make it as comprehensive as possible without losing the substance of the plot. A special shout out to @crystaljins for the beta read lol Ya girl almost chickened out until she came through with the confidence boost. Thank you so much chica~ And on that note I hope you all enjoy!

***

The roar of the stadium crowd echoed in his ears. A distant cacophony that rang through the concrete tunnels protecting the anxious man and his equally unnerved teammates. He ran a trembling hand through the short cropped blonde hair at the base of his neck, turning to his team in the hopes of lightening the mood.

“This is it boys. The finals has been a long time coming but we’re here because we’re the best of the best. We’ve squashed every team that stood before us. Those crowds out there?” he punctuated his statement by jabbing his thumb towards the exit. “They’re cheering for us! It’s Bangtan they want! Are we going to give it to them!?”

He glanced around, taking in the various answering cheers of the team as a whole. 

Yoongi, their goalie, was checking the straps of his reinforced suit, ensuring that the specialized titanium composite body suit  protecting his vital organs was undamaged before beginning the process of putting on the various components to the outer shell. Jimin and Taehyung, two of their center backs, were joking and hugging as they cheered and chanted in singsong voices.

Jin, and Hoseok, their center forwards, were distributing the fuel canisters to ensure that everyone’s rocket packs were properly fueled. And then there was y/n, his fellow center forward.

She smiled up at him, sliding an armoured glove through the military cut of her hair before sending him a thumbs up that was meant more to reassure him than it was to show that she was ready.

“Remember boys. We are at war.” Namjoon growled as he banged the steel plate covering his chest. “Monsta X may think they’re prepared for us. But we’re gonna show them why we’re Bulletproof!”

A resounding cheer echoed through the hall as the last member of their team arrived, pushing the massive cart sporting their gravity hammers along the hall and distributing them accordingly.

“Jungkookie! You’re late man!” Taehyung joked, patting the backup goalie roughly on the back as he reached out to grab the Gucci patterned grav hammer that belonged to him.

“Yah! I can’t help it! I had to shove my way through a bunch of reporters just to get here. I swear you would think we had won already with the way they were acting.” Jungkook grinned as he handed y/n her hammer.

She took it with a nod, inspecting the handle to make sure that it was powered up and ready to go. The weapon moved easily in her skilled hands, weighing close to 85 pounds and yet slicing through the air like a chef’s knife through a tuna filet.

A moment of pride filled him as his eyes followed those around him. They’d come a long way to get to where they were today. From injuries early on when their equipment wasn’t rated to deal with explosions, to almost being torn apart as a team when rumors ran rampant after an incident between Yoongi and another goalie on an opposing team.

They'd made mistakes, plenty of them to be sure. But the most important thing was that at the end of the day they were family. Had been since they'd been on a squad together in the war that ended 8 years ago. These were their retirement days, and yet they still faced danger, still fought together, and would lay down their lives for each other, Namjoon wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hyung. We’ve got 2 till contact.” Taehyung interrupted his thoughts, handing the captain his helmet before sliding his own on and locking it into place.

“Saddle up ladies! We move out at 0600. Get your gear and get moving!” Namjoon’s voice had taken on a hard edge, adrenaline lacing the nerves trailing along his fingers and stilling the trembling he hadn’t even realized had taken over until it quit.

The team moved together like a well oiled machine, taking hold of their weapons and banging them into their chest plates before moving towards the exit.

The former space marine grinned, shoving the high tech helmet onto his head and locking into place until the Heads Up Display flickered into view and gave him a map of the entire arena they were about to enter.

***

The roar of the crowd increased, stadium lights reflecting on bright blue armour as Bangtan stepped onto the field.

Namjoon waved, grinning beneath the protection of his armour as his well disciplined team lined up at their end of the field.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We are here today to celebrate an amazing feat! The match up of the millenia!”

He tuned the rest of the announcer’s speech out, choosing to glance across the field to take in the glaring red armour of the opposing team.

Monsta X. They’d not been on the grifball scene nearly as long as Bangtan had, but they’d fought together in the Covenant War almost a decade before.

Namjoon remembered well their leader Shownu’s ability to strategize in the heat of battle. Clearly picturing the last battle they’d been in and how Shownu had quite literally carried an injured Jungkook off the battlefield while ensuring that both teams escaped into the alien planet’s early morning sunrise and to safety.

Namjoon respected him to be sure. But past experiences had to be put to the side. He was no longer a Spartan officer. No. He was the captain of a team of ruthless players. And as the final countdown began he knew the others felt the same way that he did. This was their chance to finally unleash. To be able to face an opponent as skilled as they were, to battle like they used to in a life or death situation with no way of knowing what the end result would be.

They loved the feeling, they lived for it. And no matter how this match turned out they would finally feel complete.

The clock ticked out each second, inciting the crowd into a fevered pitch, filling the stadium and the surrounding city with a deafening shout of almost feral proportions.

Namjoon waved to his team as it came close to time, signaling them to ignite their jet packs.

The building rumbled as the floor began dropping away, causing those on the field to now rely on their jetpacks to keep them in view of the stands. At the same time the audience seats began to rise, powered by massive pistons that lifted the seats into the air as huge almost building sized monitors flickered to life. The monitors showed various positions on the field, each focused on ensuring those in the arena as well as those watching at home would be able to see the full extent of the match.

A loud buzzer resounded through the air, signalling the start of the match as a massive round bomb was shot high into the air. Namjoon moved quickly, signalling to his partner to grab the bomb as he powered up his gravity hammer in preparation to defend her. 

Y/n managed to reach the bomb, snagging it and whooping in glory through their shared comms as her armour sizzled a bright orange color to signal to those watching that she was now in possession of the coveted item.

The field erupted into chaos, three members of Monsta X having decided to take on Yoongi in an attempt to render him immobilized and Bangtan’s goal undefended. Jimin and Taehyung moved quickly to defend him. Taehyung shot high into the air, letting out a war cry as Jimin flew down low. As one they converged, forcing two of the opposing team to swerve away from the goal at the last minute as Yoongi took the last on on his own.

The man seemed to have underestimated the shorter goalie. Yoongi wielded his hammer with ease, waiting for the man to come just within reach. As he swung his hammer Yoongi took full advantage of the high tech armour he was wearing. Lithe body flipping through the air with barely a thought as his warrior reflexes caught the man in the back of his head with the gravity hammer.

The poor fool’s body shot across the arena, catching the barrier of his own goal with his ankle and spinning off into the bleachers. Taehyung cheered, saluting Yoongi with his hammer before turning back to assist Hoseok in keeping others off of Namjoon’s back.

The orange armoured Spartan meanwhile had been surrounded. She floated in the center of the arena, back to back with Jin who was flailing his hammer back and forth in an attempt to keep those trying to steal the bomb at bay.

"Jin come on, focus!”

Y/n elbowed her senior officer in the side, causing him to pause in his rapid and random movements to really assess the situation around him.

The match proceeded rather quickly. After a hasty play call by Namjoon, Jin and Y/n managed to shake off their opponents and scored with a resounding explosion that the unfortunate goalie hadn’t been quick enough to avoid.

Namjoon breathed a huge sigh of relief as the medics cleared him to continue playing, thankful that the protective armour that protected the sport’s players was the military grade that’d always been their signature on the battlefield.

He signaled to his crew, letting them know to set up for the next bomb to be deployed. His attention was caught by Yoongi who seemed to be reclining in between the goal posts.

“Hyung!!! Really? Taking a nap in the second round???” Taehyung seemed to have caught on to what Namjoon was glaring at as his voice was layered with a high pitched irritation.

There were grumbled words over the muffled coms and Yoongi waved in Taehyung’s direction just as the bomb launched into the air to signal the start of the second round.

It was a mad rush to the bomb, one that unfortunately Bangtan lost with a series of well placed swings of the  hydraulically enhanced battle hammers of Monsta X.

Jimin shot forward, dealing a glancing blow that knocked an opponent out of his way. He smirked beneath his helmet, a loud growl echoing through the coms as he seroed in on the two red suits attempting to pin Taehyung down midfield.

He barely registered the play by play of the announcer, instead honing in on the reserve fuel lines glowing bright blue against metallic red paint.

“Taehyung! DUCK!”

His brother in arms reacted without hesitation, cutting the ignition of his jet pack just long enough to drop thirty feet through the air.

With a battle cry Jimin swung, clipping the supply line of one of the men and sending him careening into his own teammate and out of play for the moment. 

Taehyung cheered Jimin’s actions, patting him on the back in appreciation as they raced back into the game.

Jin meanwhile was attempting to redeem his earlier hesitation, battling it out with a red suit as if this were a real battle and his life depended on it. An overhead swing clipped his opponents shoulder, forcing him to almost drop his own weapon. Before the man could respond Jin was swinging up, catching the man in the jaw and almost knocking him out cold.

“Jin! On your six!” Hoseok shouted as he came up behind his elder.

A member of Monsta X had been intent on catching Jin off guard but Hoseok caught on quickly, smashing into the man with his shoulder and shoving him well past Jin who smashed his hammer down on the man’s back. If it weren’t for the protection of the armour this would have destroyed the man’s spine, instead only shoving him down towards the floor of the arena and rendering him timed out of the match for a matter of 15 seconds.

Namjoon battled it out side by side with his girl, grabbing her hand and swinging her through the air in front of him to launch her towards the orange suited man that’d quickly made his way towards their goal.

“Yoongi! Watch out!!!” She screamed, attempting to garner his attention.

He’d unfortunately come under attack, having been virtually pinned down in the safety of his own goal as he battled off the remaining member of the opposing team.

She watched on in horror as the orange suit launched the bomb across the field. It breached the barrier between the goals posts, ticking rapidly as the enemy launched themselves out of the way.

Yoongi hadn’t seen the bomb and was unaware, turning only at the last second to stare at the device as it exploded.

He was launched through the air, smashing neck first into one of the goal posts before dropping to the ground below.

“YOONGI!!” A collective roar echoed through the communication system as the bulk of Bangtan raced to his rescue, dropping from the skies like flies and landing around him as the medics quickly set to work attending to his injury.

Jungkook rushed from the sidelines where he���d been observing the match, helmet and hammer already in hand as he joined the group to wait out the medical team’s diagnosis.

“He’s going to be fine. The fall unfortunately broke both bones in his left leg. He’s also got a concussion and several minor cuts that we’ll be treating immediately.”

Namjoon nodded as the others sighed in relief, though his eyes burned with fervor as he watched his elder and battle buddy get carted off the field.

He turned to his team, barely registering as the crowd screamed and cheered at the raised wave of Yoongi.

“We’re ending this. Now.” Namjoon’s orders left no room for objection, though those around him would have never said anything against their fearless leader.

“Jimin take point. Phalanx form up.”

They rose into the air, patiently awaiting the countdown to announce the resumption of the match.

At Namjoon’s signal the team moved as one, forming a solid line of titanium and muscle around Jimin and moving forward across the field at a fearsome pace. Hammers worked in unison, swinging and smashing the opposing team as they tried to break the line.

Namjoon roared into the coms, signalling Taehyung and Hoseok to break rank as Jimin streaked forward like a bullet. The young soldier acted on instinct, dodging a player with a roll in mid air before launching the bomb at the goal more than 15 feet away.

It struck with a clang that echoed through the stadium, beginning the 3 second countdown.

“Move out!” Hoseok shouted, shoving an opponent out of the way with a resolute swing of his hammer before tackling Jin out of the way.

The arena went quiet, a unified breath being held as two of the opponents attempted to race towards the goal to knock the bomb out of the way.

But they were too late.

An explosion rocked the arena, smoke and flames billowing forth to encase the field and obscure the players from view.

A moment longer of silence as the smoke cleared, blown away to reveal a victorious Bangtan standing at attention as they faced the crowd in a resolute circle. Jungkook flew to the side lines, offering the injured Yoongi a hand and helping him to the center of the circle.

Namjoon turned instantly, shouting a clipped “Atteeennn Hut!” Into the comms before saluting the injured warrior. As one the others saluted as well, moves well polished and practiced hundreds of times before. And yet this salute felt different.

More a salute to the ending of a chapter in their lives. Or the beginning of a new one.

[colubrina]

If you would still like prompts and dramione... perhaps alternate sci-fi universe? or if you'd prefer, a professor au? thank you!!! (If you're done then please ignore me ^^)

The corridors moved.  It was one of the first things Hermione had had to get used to when she arrived at school.  Planetside things didn’t move.  Or, rather, they moved in logical ways.  But at Hogwarts, the corridors shifted depending on some complex array of gravity wells and solar flares and what she suspected was just plain orneriness on the part of the designers.  She hadn’t wanted to seem ignorant, though, so she’d nodded her head briskly as the prefect explained.  Moving corridors, of course.  Nothing unusual to see here.

It was just that planetsiders didn’t come here very often and she didn’t want to seem overawed or unsophisticated.  The station school was for space brats, the kids of engineers and scientists and the staff that worked to keep the whole edifice running and clean.  To them, low-grav corridors were old hat.  They’d been sailing down them since they were tots.  To her, it was flying.  It was magic.  

But admitting that would set her up for mockery. 

Her roommates changed their nail color with the touch of a wand.  Embedded screens.  Didn’t they have those down below?  No?  They’d giggled when she’d said stiffly she’d never seen anything like it and Lavender said airily, “Well, technology doesn’t always make it planetside.”  It was an excuse, and Hermione didn’t like to need excuses made for her.  She was the smartest girl in her form. She’d been winning science fairs since she was seven, and she’d been invited to come here by the Deputy Head of School.  Lavender was here because she’d been born here.  She hadn’t earned her place.  She wasn’t special.

Making friends wasn’t going any better here than it had before.  Class wasn’t any better than the dormitories.

“You need to set the magnets so,” the professor said, and the feather in his anti-grav field rose obligingly off the table and hovered in space. “There’s an art to it.”

Hermione set hers precisely the way her class-tab said, measuring the distance three times to be sure and her feather cooperated.  Up it went, and her pleased smile became smug when she glanced around the classroom.   No one else had done it.  She leaned over to help the boy at the next table because at home you were supposed to do that once you were done.  Money was tight, and no school had enough teachers. It was good leadership training, the government said, making a virtue from a necessity.  She’d been doing it since she could remember, and this Ronald clearly needed help. “Did you measure?” she asked.

He jerked his set away from her. 

“It’s just,” she started to say because she could see where he was going wrong.

“Mind your business,” he said. “No wonder Lavender complains about you.  You don’t know anything.”

Snickers filled the classroom, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see a blond boy jabbing his elbow into his own seatmate.  “Dirtsider,” one of them said, and that got even louder snickers.

“You can’t ever get clean planetside, you know,” said another.  “No real freshers.  Only water. And all that dirt. It’s why they don’t touch.”

Hermione’s shoulder’s stiffened.  This was not fair.  She knew enough to do the assignment.  She knew enough to do it on the very first try, and this boy with his ginger hair and his spotty skin, this boy who had grown up with anti-grav, couldn’t make it work and it should be easy for him.  And these people who implied she wasn’t clean.  Did they know people planetside called them spacers and infects? She’ll have to be in quarantine just to come home, a friend of her mother had said in a scandalized voice. They still have measles up there, and that blood disease.  

“Fine,” Hermione said, keeping the tremor out of her voice.  “I was just trying to help.”

“Well, don’t.”  

She kept it together until they were released from class.  Her hands didn’t shake as she put the anti-grav kit back on the shelf, and she tucked her class-tab back into her bag without so much as a tear.  But when she was out of the room, away from the rules of the teacher, it seemed like she could feel eyes boring into her back.  Every laugh seemed like it was directed at her, and she walked at first, then ran, pushing the ginger boy out of the way.  There was a public fresher on this level, and she slammed her palm against the door reader and tried to keep the tears inside until the door slid open. Until it closed again with a whoosh. Until she could lean against the immaculate white wall and cry and cry and cry.

Until the door opened again.

Hermione looked up, hand reaching for the knife she hadn’t been allowed to bring.  No weapons on station.  You won’t need to worry about violence, the transport tech had said with a bitter laugh.  They’ve all got plenty up there.

The blond boy slipped into the fresher and smirked at her.  She scowled. He had grey eyes, and skin so pale he probably had to stay out of the solar rooms.  He’d clearly never spent a single day in real light. “What do you want?” she asked as ungraciously as possible.

“Weasley’s a try-hard,” he said. 

“More like a fail-hard,” she muttered.

To her surprise, he laughed and stuck out his hand.  “Name’s Malfoy,” he said.  “Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione recognized the name from the board of directors.  He was important, or at least his father was.  Well, she didn’t care.  “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get dirty,” she asked. She wasn’t going to fall for some boy ready to pretend to be friends then set her up as a joke, especially since he’d already laughed at her in class.  Dirtsider.  What a term.  She crossed her arms and ran her eyes over his black uniform.  Not a speck of dust and a green enamel pin on the collar. “And why would I touch you? We don’t shake hands anymore planetside, you know. Infect.”

“Hogwarts is a funny place,” he said.  His hand still hung in the air.  “We don’t get a lot of planetsiders.”

“I’d figured that much out, thank you.”

“I can help.”

“Why?”

The hand didn’t waver.  “Because you did it right in class the first time.”

That was a reason she understood.  She unfolded her arms and, trying not to let him see how weird it was to touch a stranger, set her hand in his.  His skin was dry and smooth.  She suspected her own palm was much sweatier.  “Granger,” she said, mimicking the way he’d introduced himself.  “Hermione Granger.”  She yanked her hand back as soon as she could without looking like she really thought he might have some disease, and was careful not to wipe it on her own uniform.

Draco’s grin made his nose wrinkle.  He was trouble, and she knew it, but it was hard not to smile back.  “Come on,” he said, palming the door back open.  “I’ve got to introduce you to the rest of Slytherin.”

“Slytherin?”

“A club,” he said.  “Secret.  You can’t tell.”

“Is that ginger in it?” she asked warily as she followed him out of the fresher and back into the corridor. She didn’t want to go anywhere that ginger was.  And she didn’t want to get expelled, sent back planetside. It would be a humiliating failure and, even though she’d barely been here, this place was amazing. She didn’t want to give it up to go back to her mundane life on the surface.

Draco Malfoy laughed, and it was a mean laugh, but it wasn’t directed at her.  It invited her in and maybe, she thought, she was willing to do that.  She’d step into a circle that kept other people out if it let her have a place. “No,” he said.  “We have standards.”

“Standard that include a dirtsider?” she asked.  

He stopped walking to look at her, and for a moment his grey eyes looked scared, and the mask of the poised space brat fell away, and she realized he was as nervous about her rejecting him as she was about being made fun of.  

“Yeah,” he said.  

She reached carefully for his hand, not sure this was allowed, but when he slid his fingers through hers and squeezed, everything felt better. She felt less alone.  “Well,” she said. “Lead the way, then.”

They passed Lavender and Ronald in the corridor, and Hermione felt a frisson of smug pleasure at how shocked they both looked.  A director’s kid with the dirtsider.  Lavender whispered something into Ronald’s ear, and they both laughed, and Hermione tightened her mouth.  Screw them. The vulgarity felt daring in her mind, so she thought it again.  Screw all of them.  She was going to join this Slytherin of Draco Malfoy’s, and she was going to make them all sorry.

She squeezed Draco’s hand, the corridor ahead of them began to shift, and they both started to run.  If you caught them moving halls just right, you could slide all the way to your destination.  Which they did.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Dying @ the Borderlands AU post to be honest. (At work. 8') ) GIVE US THE BORDERLANDS ACE ATTORNEY CONTENT WE DESERVE. (Did you ever actually post that fic with the train push-off though??) ... I should look into playing that game. (Those games? Heck if I know. I like the artstyle though.)

I posted the first chapter of the fic, though at some point as I massaged out details, I did start trying to rewrite that chapter. So plot-location-wise, that’s a bit of a mess, but the general vibe of it is the same.

I think I had some other completed excerpts I never posted, and so if I get to writing up a huge big summary of the thing, which I want to do now, I can intersperse it with a few written bits. There was a thing with Ema, and then later with Kay.

(Those games, yeah, there’s three shooters and then one….idk how to describe Tales from, I own it and haven’t played it. But yeah, there’s Borderlands, Borderlands 2, and Borderlands the Pre-Sequel for the shoot-em-up main entries of the series that I’ve played. I love all of them, but I love the Pre-Sequel a little less because low-grav combat made me want to die.)

To summarize the AU, or the start of it, for everyone who doesn’t remember/wasn’t here, the main cast, and what their class names would tentatively be in-game, include:

APOLLO, the Sharpshooter, a sniper with an eyepatch who never misses a shot

(The eye patch is significant, I’ll come back to Apollo’s powers in another post.) He lived on Elpis for most of his life – Elpis is the moon of Pandora, which is the planet that most of the games take place on – and until the start of the story, works for the corporation Hyperion with his best friend Clay, an engineer. They’ve both come to be pretty important in Hyperion’s ranks, pretty quick – Apollo for his sniping skills is the personal bodyguard/assistant to Hyperion’s CEO, Kristoph, while Clay is one of the top engineers and most valuable people except for periodically when they’re forced to pay out the ass to run some antivirus/debug software on his brain, because Clay has a USB port in his head and sometimes he tries to download every cat video ever and gets a virus. Kristoph puts up with this, barely. (It is not the worst financial crime being committed in Hyperion’s ranks. Klavier is embezzling millions into pointless endeavors and Kristoph can’t lock him out of the system no matter what he tries. But that is, again, something to come back to later.)

Apollo and Clay start to suspect that there is a lot amiss about Hyperion and the kinds of experiments they do and what they want from Pandora, and together they start investigating into what, exactly, Kristoph is doing. In the midst of this, Clay is (apparently) killed, and Apollo not allowed to investigate anything about his death. This is the final straw, so Apollo takes what he knows, destroys what he can on the way out, and flees the Hyperion moonbase and Elpis, stowing away on a freighter shipment down to Pandora, intending to disappear into the wilds of Pandora. 

CLAY, however, isn’t dead – just in a coma, with his brain wired into Hyperion’s mainframe. He hacks the ECHOnet to get into Apollo’s communicator and serves as a “voice from above” font of “advice” and “wisdom”. (He’s taking the role of, to quickly spoiler-free summarize from the games, the Guardian AI called Angel, who throughout Borderlands and 2 offers advice and points you in the direction you need to go on your quest. Clay is an infinitely shittier at his job version.) Because of some limitations hacked into his brain, he can’t tell Apollo that he’s Clay, that he’s alive, and that he’s sort of being forced into trying to manipulate Apollo and friends into doing Hyperion’s bidding, but he can be very inefficient at it and sabotage from within as best he can. Also, sometimes he accidentally sabotages, like when he’s like “I’ve made the calculations and your vehicle can definitely make this jump” and they try it and crash because he was using the gravitational constant of Elpis, which has much less gravity than Pandora. 

On landing on Pandora, Apollo is waiting for one of the Hyperion trains that still runs to take him west and get as far away from this landing site as he can. There, he meets three other travelers and apparent fugitives:

ATHENA, the Berserker, who takes on robots with her fists and a sword and maybe sometimes she’ll use a shotgun;

KLAVIER, the Doppelganger, the spitting image of Hyperion’s CEO;

and TRUCY, the Siren, one of six women throughout the galaxy marked with strong magical powers and glowing tattoos that make her a target for everyone who knows the legend.

Hyperion robots stop the train and begin a search for the fugitive Apollo – the four of them take down the robots and jump off the train, and that’s where their adventures really begin.

ATHENA and TRUCY have a mind to go to the city of Sanctuary, the only free city on Pandora that isn’t corporate-owned or a bandit shithole. Trucy’s father and all her friends live in Sanctuary; Athena, too, lived there for a few years. Before that, they both lived in the city of New Haven, which was razed by Hyperion in their search for the man who screwed Kristoph out of getting his hands on a piece of the Vault Key and a Siren.

-inhales- quick more Borderlands plot context. Vaults are ancient alien caches of powerful weapons, treasure, or monsters scattered throughout the galaxy. These can only be opened by special keys, which are ancient artifacts that tend to be broken and scattered in pieces. In Borderlands, a corporation called Atlas and their military arm, the Crimson Lance, are trying to acquire all the pieces of the key scattered across Pandora to open a Vault to get the loot inside of it. You play as a Vault Hunter, who are not-quite-bandits who for whatever reason are interested in the lore of the Vault, or just kinda ended up on Pandora and fell into it accidentally. In Borderlands 2, about five years later, Hyperion is going after a different Vault, also on Pandora, also with the key in pieces, but the opening of the first Vault in the first game has done some funky stuff to the planet in the form of a mineral called Eridium. Both times, you are trying to stop the corporations from getting to the Vault, with help from some allies, such as the AI Angel and an independent resistance group, based first in New Haven, then in Sanctuary and called the Crimson Raiders, headed up by some of the player characters from the first game. In 2, the Vault Key can only be used naturally once every 100 years; otherwise, it has to be artificially charged with an Eridium-powered Siren. Thus, Hyperion needs a Siren. 

phew okay back to the AU, context thus set for Trucy.

TRUCY has spent a few years traveling Pandora on her own, trying to learn more about Eridium and its connection to her Siren-powers. At this point, however, she’s had enough being on her own, and wants to go back home to Sanctuary. She knows she’s a Hyperion target, and that’s partially why she’s been out on her own. She wanted to protect her friends and family. But she’s been reasonably undetected thus far, so she thinks she’s safe. Safe enough as anyone can be on Pandora. She wasn’t born on Pandora, actually, though her mother was from here. She spent the first years of her life living with the Troupe Gramarye, a gang of notorious con-artists who traveled the galaxy scamming people and looking for Vaults. How’d she fall in with Phoenix? Maybe that’s for next time.

ATHENA was not actually born on Pandora, either. She was born with strange, non-Siren powers, probably from her mother’s exposure to weird alien elements; Metis tried to keep this secret and devise ways to help Athena, but eventually people found out, wanted to turn Athena into a lab rat, and so Metis fled to Pandora, knowing its reputation for lawlessness because one of her former coworkers, a woman named Aura, fled there after she vaporized three people for stealing and copyrighting her own personal work. Aura’s brother followed her, after stabbing the people who showed up on his door looking for Aura. Metis knows she can rely on them, and so she takes Athena and goes.

Athena just acclimated really, really well to Pandora. In the course of fighting against Hyperion, however, some time after the attack on New Haven, Metis is murdered by an unknown infiltrator. Simon and Aura agree that they can’t raise and protect Athena the way she deserves, not when they are both dead-set on avenging Metis, and so Simon takes Athena off-world and settles her down somewhere safe. She has a normal teenager-hood in a normal part of the galaxy, goes to college, gets a degree in psychology – all the while chafing at the normalcy of it all. When she’s confronted with her massive amount of college debt, she says her final “fuck it” and abandons her responsibilities to run home to Pandora and find Simon again.

She hilariously has zero secrets that she’s keeping from the others. 

And KLAVIER was born and lived most of his life on Elpis – not that he says it, or much of anything, about himself to the others. He has obvious affiliation with Hyperion, but since Hyperion’s ‘bots are out to kill him as much as they are Athena and Trucy, they both accept that he’s on their side. Apollo isn’t quite so sure, because Apollo knew Kristoph and knows that Klavier looks just like him, thus knowing that Klavier was probably someone very important in Hyperion. 

Except Apollo can’t say that, because Kristoph (unlike Handsome Jack, Hyperion’s egomaniacal CEO in the games) doesn’t plaster his face everywhere and make himself well-known, so the fact that Apollo recognizes Klavier’s face to be shocked at him means that Apollo was also someone important in Hyperion to know Kristoph and so Apollo and Klavier are just the Spider-Man Pointing meme at each other over their Hyperion involvement. Except Hyperion has bounties on both their heads, so they’re like, okay, okay, cool, I guess I will tolerate you.

After some horrible misadventures involving Pandoran wildlife, which Klavier and Apollo are not prepared for even though Elpis also has horrible wildlife, they reach Sanctuary. Sanctuary is home to the resistance against Hyperion, called the Crimson Raiders, made up of random people and some of the remains of Atlas Corporation’s Crimson Lance who were hunting the Vault years earlier. There in Sanctuary, they catch up with former colonel EDGEWORTH formerly of the Lance, and former commandant VON KARMA also formerly of the Lance. They were once sent to Pandora to acquire the key and quash the Vault Hunters who were chasing it; however, a certain persistent Vault Hunter and his Vault-researcher friends won them over to his side, and so they turned on Atlas and the Lance. The two of them run Sanctuary and the Raiders, Von Karma handling a little more of the military matters, and Edgeworth with the mayoral matters, but mostly, they’re an apparently seamless team. 

Aaaand….I think that’s enough for one post. I could probably do, like, four more posts? One for the rest of the people of Sanctuary, one for Apollo and Klavier’s various fucked-up backstory secrets, one for Gramarye Bullshit, and one mapping out the very loose plot points moving forward.

But I’ve spent like all day writing this, so I guess I’ll do this in installments if I’m reminded. 

[kawaii-kozume]

In Depth Character List

Okay, so this was a part of the first post, but it got out of hand. So here’s an entirely unnecessary post about all the characters that’ll come up more often than not. Putting it all under a read more, sorry not sorry.

z3r0 9r4v, pronounced zero grav, is comprised of three members: Katsuki “Ground Zero” Bakugou, Ochaco “Uravity” Uraraka, and Izuku “Deku” Midoriya. The three have known each other since their first semester of college, after Izuku approached Ochaco with a proposal. Zero Grav started with Katsuki and Izuku in high school when the two childhood friends found they both had an interest in music. They tended to just click well and saw no reason to ruin it. Howver, their sound wasn’t complete until Ochaco came along.

Shouto Todoroki is the son of Endeavor’s lead guitarist, Enji Todoroki. And he wants nothing to do with that title. After forced lessons in violin, guitar, piano and cello all throughout his childhood, Shouto never wanted to do anything in regards to music. When he told his family he was pursuing digital art, his father nearly kicked him out. His family in general is a little broken due to Enji’s constant infidelity while touring and his domestic abuse while he’s home. Substance abuse was very common throughout Shouto’s childhood so the entire music industry is painted in a really disastrous portrait for the boy. And because this is a quirkless AU, Shouto’s hair is not half white/half red. Instead it’s all red!

Momo Yaoyorozu is a very determined girl when she sets her sights on something. Her girlfriend, Kyoka Jirou, can confirm that. So when Momo decided she wanted to work with the quiet redhead in her Intro to Digital Art class, she got what she wanted. It was only a matter of time before she and her merry band of misfits were dragging him to a z3r0 9r4v concert.

Kyoka “Jax” Jirou is the lead singer to the band Vantom. Vantom is seen as z3r0 9r4v’s rival but their music is a little different. Vantom is made up of Jax on melodic vocals and synthesizer, Neito “Phantom” Monoma on rapping vocals and guitar, Tetsutetsu “Real Steel” Tetsutetsu on drums, and Kuroiro “Vantablack” Shihai with those screamy vocals.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a simple man. He gets a commission, he delivers on the commission, and he’s paid. Quick and simple. Until his boyfriend’s rival band commissions him for a design. Then his boyfriend’s band commission him. Then before he knows it, he’s making more money by designing record covers for people he hasn’t met.

Eijirou Kirishima. Aspiring artist manager. Scratch that. Artist manager. The man’s balancing four different acts by the end of the series and has no backup! He thought he had it just fine with z3r0 9r4v, but then he wanted more. And more. And more. Well, at least the pay is good. Right?

Finally, Tsuyu “Froppy” Asui is a quiet girl with a sassy attitude when she sings. Her sound is soothing to listen to and empowering. She’s caught Uravity’s eye quite a bit. Enough to drag Eijirou to listen to her. And who knows? Maybe the redheaded manager will add her to the roster.

Side notes/characters!

Fumikage Tokoyami is Shouto’s dormmate! He’s super chill and puts up with a lot of Shouto’s crap. But hey! If it let’s Mezo Shouji stay the night a couple times during the week, what’s it really matter?

Mashirao Ojiro is such a ball of sunshine. And he’s definitely Shouto’s favorite boyfriend of Hitoshi’s. He’s quiet around others, but is really comfortable around his other two pieces and it fills Shouto with a lot of hope.

Mina Ashido is one of Katsuki’s longtime friends that the blond just. cannot. shake. No matter how many times he’s left her on the side of the road, she just keeps coming back. (Okay he’s done it once. Cut him some slack.) She’s super upbeat, a bit of an airhead sometimes, but definitely supports the blond with everything she has.

Denki Kaminari is one of Katsuki’s coworker that seems to have latched onto him. Shitty dye job, half sleeve of tats, he’s befriended the feisty blond in the only way one can. Music. They share the same taste in music and often go to concerts together, along Mina, Hanta and Eijirou of course.

Hanta Sero. He and Denki are almost never separated unless one of them is at work. Even then it’s doubtful because the other will be there just to tease him. Gauges, beanies and low hanging pants drew Katsuki to him, but his snide comments against Vantom made him stay.

[bartholomaus]

  Multi spun domne ce frumos era înainte de 1947 - erau valori, biserica era puternică, nu ca acum. Ok. Pai hai sa vedem. Cuza a deposedat BOR de proprietățile uriașe ale mănăstirilor. Bisericile  Romano și greco-catolice erau majoritare in Transilvania. Prostituția era perfect legală (!!!). Acum - statul dă bani la greu către BOR. BOR a furat toate proprietățile celorlalte biserici și nu le dă înapoi (deși e ilegal asta). Și spune ca e singura biserica “națională” - o minciună istorică.  Ce prostituție legalizată - biserica impune ce trebuie studiat sau nu in scoli. Doamne ferește sa gândești mai modern sau altceva decât spun ei. Așa ca stam mult mai prost decât in interbelic. De ce? Pai pentru ca toți cei din BOR care erau ok au fost arestați și inlocuiti cu securisti și comuniști. Imediat ce ne-au ocupat rușii (nu spun eu - spun toți istoricii). Si celalalte biserici au fost distruse si deposedate de comuniști - ce au luat de la ei au dat la BOR. De atunci nu s-a schimbat nimic. Deci BOR - nu mai e biserica de atunci. E doar o unitate militară a statului român de fapt, cu rolul de a îndobitoci și a ține oamenii obedienti. Un fel de Jandarmerie dar fără bâte. Intelegeti acum? Ps: probabil vine CNCD peste mine iar pe tema asta. Ii atenționez - teza de mai sus este scrisă de istoricii specializați pe istoria noastră sau pe postbelic, cum ar fi Jens-Oliver Schmidt, Keith Lowe, Keith Hitchins. Și extrasă din ce spune departamentul de stat in evaluările anuale pe libertatea religiei in România. Arestați-i pe ei - ca eu doar citez aici din experți de pe la Cambridge și Washington și alte locuri de astea nerelevante.

--

In fapt, Cuza secularizeaza averile manastiresti in decembrie 1863... insa BOR este fondata in 1872, deci 9 ANI MAI TARZIU. Pana atunci slujbele se tineau in slavona si in greaca... asta asa, pentru incultii aia care ne spun ca biserica ortodoxa a fost coloana neamului romanesc. A fost.. da' in greaca si slavona 😂 Dar trecem si peste asta! Ideea este ca BOR, ca institutie infiintata la 9 ani DUPA secularizare, nu ar trebui sa primeasca nimic inapoi, caci ei nu i s-a luat nimic, ea nu a fost deposedata de nimic, nefiind nici macar infiintata la vremea respectiva. Da, erau manastiri si bisericute unde se tineau slujbe ortodoxe in greaca si slavona.... insa astea nu apartineau de BOR, ca nu exista pe atunci... si banii stransi de la prostime se duceau in Grecia sau in Rusia. Deci ce revendica BOR mai exact daca secularizarea s-a realizat cu 9 ani inainte ca ea sa fie infiintata? >> Autocefalia au obtinut-o mai tarziu, insa de infiintat atunci s-au infiintat. Nici eu nu stiu cat conta institutia cu pricina la vremea cand nu era de sine statatoare, insa cert este un singur lucru: d.p.d.v. legal nu ar trebui sa li se retrocedeze nimic. Da' nimic! Cat despre perioada comunista... s-au construit peste 500 de biserici in acea perioada, asta de atei ce erau comunistii...pentru ca, la naiba, se stie, ce face orice ateu? Construieste biserici, desigur!

--

BOR, AUR si toti astia - nu sunt ortodocși - sunt eretici. Tot ce fac ei este bazat pe o erezie care a fost condamnata chiar de sinodul ortodox de la Constantinopole din 1872 - adică de toate bisericile ortodoxe din lume. Erezia asta se cheamă filetism. Concepția care pune specificul particular peste binele comun. în filetism sunt incluse toate concepțiile care așează națiunea mai presus de omenire ca întreg și mai presus de rânduielile dumnezeiești. Naționalismul religios este clar filetism si este eretic. În istoria modernă filetismul a jucat un rol important în formarea fascismului clerical fiind ideologia de bază a mai multor mișcări de extremă dreapta. În cazul României - Garda de Fier a promovat în interbelic filetismul și naționalismul religios, cu ajutorul direct al BOR. Acum vorbim de AUR care lucrează mâna in mâna cu BOR. Eretici si unii si alții, non-ortodocși. Nu mai zic că BOR mai are un păcat grav de tot: Simonia. Lăcomia de bani, vândutul posturilor de preot pe bani, totul e pe bani... Dar la Bisericile românești e așa de sute de ani. Preoțirea s-a vândut totdeauna pe bani. Sunt o mulțime de izvoare din sec 19 care vorbesc de asta.

[yoli-cu-capsune]

oi, iară îi jăle

24 ianuarie 2022

mid winter. a feeling of chronic numbness is taking over my body.  im starting to hit a new low again.  

oki sa lasam la o parte incercarea de a scrie compuneri la romana si hai sa incepem.

ZAIBAL.

de o bucată mare de timp nu sunt sincer cu mine. it just doesnt go away.

i’m so sick of not being able to express myself properly.

ma simt ca intr-o inchisoare, iar lucrul ironic este ca cheia spre libertate se afla in mainile mele. vreau sa fiu liber odata keezda masii. subconstient, aleg sa-mi petrec timpul aici. sunt speriat.

more often than not i feel  inadequate  că nu pot tine o conversatie normala fara a fi ciudat si awkward. its killing me. incerc sa ignor asta de cand ma stiu. hoping it will get bettter but it just doesnt. nu ma astept ca cinva sa creada ii ca intr-atat de grav asta cum mie mi se pare (theyre right).

but i cant help but socializing brings me a lot of anxiety. chiar si cu cei mai apropiati prieteni, ma simt de parca nu pot pune nici un efort in conversatie. its bland and boring a lot of the times.

sometimes i cancel plans with people for the fact that i cant bring anything valuable in conversations. ma simt ca nu am nimic de zis tf. cum dracul oamenii vorbesc asa efortlessly nu as inteleg. te-ai gandi ca in tartucuta asta este ceva. da blin ii gol de prea multe ori.

ii greu sa primesc placere din conversatii when my brain is wired this way.

cateodata vreau sa imi imaginez cum ar fi aratat viata mea if i got this part right. mai multe usi ar deschide. experiente, prieteni noi. phd as merge spre extrovert.

acum ca ma gandesc. cam toti prietenii care ii am is din cauza ca ei au facut primul pas. sure i had my part in putting effort to maintain these friendships. but this thing says a lot about myself.

blyadi eu nu stiu sa imi fac prieteni.

printre altele, citisem recent ca calitatile *cacafonie* care le admiri cel mai mult in idolii tăi, sunt calitatile care urmeaza a fi descoperite in tine. ma vizualizez ca cineva cu care poti avea o conversatie faina, whos balanced in their way of speaking, and generally a good vibe for their friend group. da doamne sa ajung la asta.

oleacă de rant, oleacă haotic.

noapte bună, păpușăi!

v-am pwpat <3

la sigur am greseli gramticale. will edit later

yk as much as this shit is uncomfortable to admit. it feels liberating to feel my issues being heard by myself. daca asta are sens

#live laugh love

[jacksgreysays]

946. 'You and I will never / be a great love story. / That's ok! / Let's see what kind / of story we'll be. / (Oooh! Oooh! I hope it's science fiction!)' KibaxShikako

You and I will never be a great love story.That’s okay!Let’s see what kind of story we’ll be.(Oooh! Oooh! I hope it’s science fiction!)

—

(Never Lookin’ To Come Back)

“Again?” Shikako says, stepping out from the shadowed cover of the ship, “You don’t get hazard pay for starting a fight with a bunch of civilians.”

Kiba’s hackles don’t quite rise–never against her, not after what they’ve been through–but he does scowl something fierce, “It’s my shore leave, cap'n, I can spend it how I want.”

Akamaru, the traitor, wags his tail at the sight of her, whining a plaintive request to stop this whole disaster in the making.

“And what are you doing bringing Akamaru?” she asks, crouching down to scrub at his ears, “They don’t serve ninken on this rock, and it’s not fair to make him clean up your mess when he can’t even have fun, too.”

Akamaru barks an agreement.

“Get on back inside,” she says to him, head jerking toward the gangway, “I’ll deal with this idiot.”

He goes, claws clacking against the metal of the ramp as he heads back inside the ship.

Shikako stands up, meeting Kiba’s eyes in a familiar way that almost makes him want to bare his throat, “I’m not here to lecture you.”

“Sure feels like it.”

She rolls her eyes, “Come on,” she says, walking away, the tails of her long brown coat flapping behind her, “let’s get drunk and fight some Rooters.”

—

There’s a difference between being a part of Konoha and being a Rooter: the first is like a pair of shoes, too tight and constantly chafing, blisters forming, and yet unable to take them off.

The second is a knife to the back.

They’re not the same, and of course the latter is far worse, but it’s terribly easy to stab someone if they can’t run away, isn’t it?

—

On the bucket of bolts that is their ship, there are the following:

Two “reformed” brown coats whose ferry and delivery service may or may not include smuggling contraband.

Two mercenaries for hire who have never so much as killed a single person between them and have accidentally inspired, on more than one occasion, cult followings about their heroic deeds.

One mechanic from a far off moon who swears that no matter how talented she is, the ship is going to crash without a replacement grav unit, she means it this time.

One Organization member who rents the starboard shuttle and might be a high class escort or possibly an assassin, the jury’s still out on that one.

One Teacher of the Will of Fire who knows a suspicious amount about the inner workings of Konoha and is far more connected than a man who has given up his last name should be.

And one ninken who is way too skilled at opening locked doors, that food’s not for you, damnit Akamaru, spit it out.

On a somewhat fairly routine smuggle and ferry, their number goes up by two.

—

The four core planets of Konoha were Aburame, Akimichi, Hyuuga, and Uchiha.

During the Uprooting, the planet of Uchiha was destroyed, the blame pinned on the rebellion.

Whether they believed it or not, the tragedy galvanized the other three core planets into putting their full power behind bringing a swift end to the war...

... and Root, the jingoist half of what remains of the Senju Administration, filled the gap of the fourth power in Konoha.

—

“Go get me some passengers,” Shikako commands, waving an imperious hand out towards the town they’ve landed near. It’d be more impressive if she weren’t curled over face down on the table, awkwardly trying to eat porridge without lifting her head.

Regardless, it’s not exactly a new or surprising sight, not after the years of being her XO and the year before that of being her lieutenant. Still funny as hell, but not unexpected.

“Aye, aye, cap'n,” Kiba shoots back, not moving from his seat whatsoever. Akamaru huffs a doggy laugh, nosing upward for some rehydrated meat substance.

“I have to get some parts,” TenTen says, ignoring their captain’s disgraceful posture and petulant groaning, “I think I can make do with the current rotator belt, but the grav unit won’t survive another atmo crossing, captain.”

Shikako grunts.

“And I’m running low on duct tape,” TenTen adds, which, apparently, makes the request of vital importance: the credits are dispensed immediately.

“Lee, go with her. Now everyone leave me alone, I’m trying to eat.”

Four hours later, Naruto returns with a small herd of passengers practically throwing money at him–thankfully, after Kiba already stowed the contraband away, otherwise that’d be a disaster–and Lee and TenTen return with a different grav unit, a crate of duct tape, and a suspiciously posh looking man with suspiciously large luggage looking for a quick and discrete way off the planet who is willing to pay five times the rate. Suspiciously.

“We need the money,” Shikako mutters.

“I’m not saying we don’t,” Kiba argues, “I’m just saying that we definitely don’t need the trouble that comes with it.”

“Oh, now you’re worried about trouble?” she asks, a sardonic eyebrow raised.

“This is a different kind of trouble,” he says, nose wrinkling, “I can smell it.”

“How bad can it be?”

—

The daughter of the chancellor of the planet Hyuuga is missing.

Kidnapped, all official reports say.

It is a very bad kind of trouble.

~

A/N: Presenting the brand new ‘verse, Never Lookin’ To Come Back, a FireflyxDoS fusion featuring a Kiba/Shikako relationship that can be romantic or platonic–it’s up to the readers to decide for themselves.

So… the ratio of Kiba/Shikako to worldbuilding perhaps wasn’t the highest it could have been, but I got carried away with trying to adapt the Firefly ‘verse into a fusion with DoS. Which I think is totally an acceptable excuse?

Anyway, what should I name the spaceship?

Number + Character/Ship + (optional) AU –> my ask box

[If anyone else wants to do a softer world prompt that isn’t on the list, you can just send the page id number for the original comic instead.]

[linane-art]

7. Flowers (Fili/Kili, Mature, Stars Verse)

“Come with me to collect some flower samples, you said,” Fili grumbled, shoving dejectedly at his anti-grav sample container to send it spinning another couple of feet ahead of him. 

Next to him Kili trekked with a more classic backpack, clinking quietly with yet more containers.

“A beautiful valley a mere 120 clicks away, teaming with life. Very promising, you said.” Another shove.

Fili was only allowed to borrow the precious, battery-powered equipment, because he sure as hell couldn’t wear a backpack of his own.

“And it was!” Kili protested.

“We could make it a picnic, you said! Just you, me, and the wide open skies, you said.” Fili swatted away a low-hanging branch in his way.

“Flowers are important! Potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and a lot of other delicious things all evolved from nightshade, which is a little, pretty insignificant, white flower. Garden peas were domesticated from –“

“I brought lube, Kili!” Fili stopped dead in his tracks, both hands coming to rest on top of his hips despite a little wince. “Lube, condoms and wet wipes! You do know of course that our condoms are all itemised, right? I had to hack into our stock records and ‘adjust’ the volumes.”

“But your shoulder –“

“- Has no impact on the performance of my cock. It’s been two months, Kili.”

“Well clearly, it has enough of an impact to make you want to nap and recover your strength,” Kili huffed.

Fili fell asleep but for a moment. The sun was out, the meadow smelled sweet, swayed by a gentle breeze from the West. He wasn’t expecting to stay asleep until it was time to go back. He had plans, wonderful plans, all of which came to naught when Kili failed to wake him.

“Look,” his brother stepped right into Fili’s personal space and gently removed the hand on the side of his injured shoulder from his hip. “How about this: we’ll get back and I’ll sort out our food –“

“The only thing you’ll want to sort out is your samples,” Fili muttered, but without any real bite.

“I’ll sort them out tomorrow. They’ll be okay overnight.”

“Mmmhm…” Fili allowed himself a tiny little step forward, warming up to where he thought this was going.

“And then afterwards you can show me that much-discussed performance of your cock. At home. Full of soft, comfortable things. Where the first aid kit lives.”

“Now you’re talking,” Fili agreed. “But next time you offer to take me out, I’m banning all scientific equipment, unless it is to be used for purely un-scientific purposes.”

“Deal.”

---

“You…you what???”

Reno my Reno AU, aka you called me to fix your DIY project

Magical Bond

Mysophobia

Restraints

He was more expressive than others noticed

Glitter

Impossible odds

Playing games

Spanking (kink)

Dads

“Polka dots? Really?”

Dragon Riding

"Tell me what you're feeling."