#needed humans to come up with plans for him

[thetadispatcher]

"Oh, right, three. I'm sorry." Peter had trouble keeping where most of the androids came from straight, but he tried his best as he didn't want to accidentally offend them. But that still didn't stop him from making mistakes on occasion that he felt he'd have to make up for, even if most of the androids understood that he was only human and an odd one at that.

"They're easier to care for as they need far less work. I can't say for sure if they deviate, but I'd have to say probably. It's just less noticeable as they still act like the animal they're based on. BeeBee is harmless though, sure she was aggressive to begin with, but that was just because Zlatko mutilated her and kept her locked up. She calmed down after I got her fixed back up, think she just needed proof I wasn't going to hurt her before she'd let her guard down." He didn't blame the URS12 for her initial aggression, she'd been through a very traumatic experience and was just acting accordingly as she didn't know he wasn't there to hurt her.

Peter brought his hand to his mouth, sticking two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp, short whistle. He knew G and BeeBee should be inside as Dan had likely taken Strasky for a walk around the property to calm him down, meaning Dan would take over watching for anything suspicious and G would take BeeBee inside for a break.

He lowered his hand as he heard the sound of claws rapidly clicking on the floor that were heading for the basement. He turned as BeeBee came to a halt in front of the room and sat down, chuffing and shaking her head. Peter motioned for her to enter the room as he knew she was waiting for permission. She quickly got up and jogged over to him, getting up on her hind legs as Daniel moved out of the way. She rubbed her nose against his as she made a purring sound, using her front legs to nudge him onto the ground, allowing her easier access to rub against him.

"They are furry, and BeeBee is just as fluffy as a polar bear should be. She usually is with G as he patrols the property, pretty good deterrent for anyone looking to cause trouble." Peter explained as he ruffled her neck. "She's not gonna hurt anyone unless given the command to do so, other then that she's a sweet heart." He gently coaxed her down so he could stand up again as Brent left the room to fetch more finished parts.

"Yeah, but don't point it out to them, they don't like that and I found that out the hard way." Not that it bothered him as he didn't get in trouble for the fight, the group had attacked him first and he had merely defended himself. He was just warned not to call out anymore protestors or acknowledge them if they tried to talk to him.

"Oh, nothing else. The computers should be it as we haven't come across any issues that can't be easily fixed." Sure they were still working on the space, but so far he couldn't name anything else that was obviously wrong that needed to be replaced.

"I don't, but I'm fine with it." He didn't understand why it was so important to the android, but he knew he needed to address Dan's overbearing protectiveness before it worsened.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't blame her if she still wanted nothing to do with me. I did threaten to kill her and jump off the roof with her, even held her out when the RK800 showed up to talk me down." Daniel wouldn't hold it against Emma if she never wanted to see him again after what he'd done to her. "And I find it interesting to deal with someone who's neurodivergent verses one that was perfectly normal." He didn't mind the change, in fact he found it to be a fun learning experience.

"He also really didn't want to be there as his goal was finding me, and being stuck on a rusty ship wasn't helping him accomplish that. And then to be dragged along occasionally or just hearing them planning something just added to his hatred of being there." Peter knew Dan understood it was best he hide as a deviant, but that didn't stop him from being upset about it.

"And finally reuniting with me and finding I lost an eye didn't do him any favors mentally. He deviated because he thought I was dead and had to find out if I was okay, so finding out I actually could've died well he was in the same city as me... Messed him up. I'm gonna see if we can fix that, he's getting very over protective because of that."

"There's three." the android corrected, "Three of us remain on the property."

"What's the point of android animals?" Rook asked, "Do they deviate too? Are they fuzzy at least? Can I pet BeeBee?"

"Rook."

"I want to pet a bear, Willow!"

Willow rolled her eyes, "Yes, the belief that the evil machines are stealing jobs is a myth that only serves the corporations. Unfortunately, most humans are too dense to understand they're considered on par with any other piece of equipment, thus are just as easily replaced by whatever is more cost effective."

So, trying to get the computers out of storage through semi legitimate means was most likely a lost cause. Willow resorted to sending a text instead. "Would you like to have everything delivered to this room?"

"I'm glad you understand now." It still didn't explain why Bishop specifically wanted his counterpart to fail, but that wasn't relevant to the android's argument as to why he felt the need to prevail.

It was a reasonable question, as far as he was concerned.

"Sometimes kids don't know better. Maybe she'll come around when she grows up and starts thinking with her brain." Rook told Daniel, "It's good that you found yourself new people to hang out with, even if one of them speaks in riddles— You've got something to add, Willow?"

"Oh, I was just thinking that Dan was right about most of Jericho's plans."

[hyunsvngs]

𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚, 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 - han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

a/n: pwp based off of two images i saw of jisung's boobs in concert and then i went haywire and wrote THIS... MERRY CHRISTMAS !!! 🎄🎅 please read the warnings! 18+ SMUT MDNI!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: ROLEPLAY where jisung is santa for no particular reason, nipple play (m rec), oral (m rec), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (i’m having a white christmas!), dirty talk, overall kind of not extreme but maybe a bit of d/s dynamics (both switchy)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you don’t know what game you’re playing tonight.

jisung’s due back home any minute now. he’s been gone a few hours, last minute christmas shopping with friends, and he claimed he had a surprise for you. you asked to go with, claiming you needed to get a few things too, but jisung had simply told you he had a plan. it’s unusual behaviour for him, but he’s always doing sweet things for you - this could just be another one of those times.

still, you’re bent underneath the tree placing presents in nothing but your nightie and some fuzzy socks. you’ve had to light the fireplace to warm yourself up, but jisung always likes it when it’s cozy anyway. you expect that he’ll arrive home tired, but wanting, from the infrequent texts he’d sent you about missing you. there’s nothing you like more than snuggling with your favourite person on your favourite holiday, even if he does get a little too warm too quickly and ends up being more of a human radiator than anything else. 

once you’ve finally found places for all of the gifts, you’re able to wriggle yourself outwards. with the multicoloured lights on and the fireplace lit, along with your many other trinkets… well, it may look like christmas has exploded in your living room. still, you’ve always loved christmas. you adjust a little santa ornament on your fireplace and allow yourself to lay on the couch, pulling a thick blanket over your body. it’s comfortable.

unfortunately it may be a little too comfortable. you appear to have dropped off, because when you wake up it’s a little darker outside. you hear the click of the lock, the sound of the door swinging open and heavy boots stomping in. you sit up, drowsy with sleep but ready to greet your boyfriend. 

a few hums are heard from the door, soft and melodic, and you smile. it’s nice. you push yourself up, padding over to the front door, and- oh. 

santa’s here.

sure, he looks a little different. under the fluffy white beard and velvet red costume you can catch glimpses of him. a snippet of black ink across honey toned skin when he moves, the sight of his chain dangling beneath the fabric - it’s him, your santa claus, you know it, and suddenly it all makes sense.

“santa!” you grin, walking over to wrap your arms around his middle. he lets out a small ‘ooph’, pretending he’s winded, but two toned arms wrap around your frame right back. “you’re here! early, too.”

“i had to be early for my favourite girl,” you feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks against your ear, and you nuzzle the fabric of his suit. over the time you’ve known your santa, you’ve learned he can be a little sleazy - you’re pretty sure he’s making his voice deeper on purpose, and his fingertips are already tugging up on your nightie to check if you have panties on. it doesn’t surprise you. “why don’t we go take a seat?”

you’re guided back over to your sleeping spot with a firm palm on your back, and you realise he’s got his gloves on too, black faux leather that you can feel even through your nightie. you stumble a little and santa catches you, using the position to sit down and pull you down with him.

one of those sinful gloved hands come up to push your hair out of your face. it feels a little fucked up you’re getting aroused over this, over fucking around with someone who isn’t really your boyfriend, but he meets your gaze with his own. the look in his eyes lets you know that it’s all intentional. “have you been nice this year, baby?”

“i’ve been so nice this year, santa,” you wiggle onto his lap, legs splaying over the side. you receive a gummy smile in return and the feeling of his hand moving up your thigh. it’s sleazy, and you’re slicking up already. it smears against your thighs. “don’t you remember? just last week, i fingered your asshole until-“

“al-right,” he stammers. “doing naughty things isn’t very nice, y’know?! it’s actually the polar opposite. hah, polar.”

his facade is cracking, and you giggle, letting your hands run over his chest. you can feel the muscles beneath his suit. “i thought it was nice, santa. you seemed to like it. a lot, actually, if the noises were telling at all.”

“u-um, you’re not- this isn’t how this is meant to go,” his eyes are wide and ever so brown, the multicoloured lights bouncing off of them. he looks so earnest, almost innocent - if you’re pretending you can’t feel his cock hardening underneath your ass. “i’m meant to- you’re- baby.”

you’re already moving, swinging your legs back over to kneel on the floor in front of him. despite his protesting, he’s letting you, always pliant. his arms fall to his sides and his knees kick apart. his boots make a heavy thud on the wooden floor, the same platform boots you thought he’d retired years ago, and you want to ask him about them but he’s moving your hands to his cock. 

while your santa is pliant, you are too, and you give in.

you pull his trousers down, letting the waistband snap just underneath his balls. the pressure pushes his cock upright for you, hard and plump and leaky, and you engulf it with your mouth without a further thought.

“this is why y-you’re my favourite,” he gasps shakily, thighs spreading further. with a flick of his hand, the red velvet jacket falls open, and you’re met with the tattooed honey skin you’ve been craving all along. he’s built, chest plump enough to make your mouth water, and he rubs his thumb over his nipple while you suckle on his cockhead. “that’s it, my sweet baby. suck santa’s cock, just like that.”

your jaw aches already, head reeling from how fast everything is going. you pull off with a wet pop, and with your spare hand you stroke the shaft erratically, your spit acting as lubricant. it’s all too wet for him and his hips buck upwards into your grip. a sharp whine leaves his lips, preceding the heavy breaths that he lets out. 

you can’t help but let your other hand move down to his balls, running over the taut skin there. his thighs shake, and you pump harder, squeezing deliberately to watch how precum forms on the head.

“come and kiss me,” he orders, pushing your hand away to replace it with his own. he looks the image of debauched, cockhead ruddy red and sensitive, and he pulls you upwards impatiently to his mouth. you’re laying over him like this, tits pressed against his through your nightie, and he finally leans up to press his lips against yours. immediately, the kiss is filthy, his tongue pressing into your mouth with the deep moans and muffled noises he lets out at the feeling of his own grip. 

it’s not long before he’s pushing the same gloved hand past your nightie again, wet from your spit and his precum, finding that you definitely are not wearing panties. he moans into your mouth again, digits finding where you’re wet and aching for him. his lips clack against yours messily as he pushes two fingers inside of you - it’s just a precaution, not meant to be anything more than a quick stretch. still, when your fingers scrabble for purchase on his chest and your nails dig into the plump flesh, he finally pulls away from the kiss and sinks a third finger inside of you. the faux leather is warm from his natural body heat, and you gasp, hips grinding into his palm rhythmically. 

“f-fuck, that’s- you’re stretching my pussy out so good, santa,” you keen, keeping your words filthy because you know how he likes it. as you expected, he groans, head tossing back against the sofa and causing his hat to slide onto one side. his cock aches, pressing against your thigh. you can’t help but rub against it just to be cheeky, and his thumb comes to your clit as a punishment. “o-oh! oh, santa, please, will you give- give me more? i want your cock, please!”

“yeah, of course, my baby, of course, just- get this off? get it off,” he’s impatient, gripping at your nightie and pulling it each and every way until you finally sit back and yank it off of your body. instead of wasting any time, your santa is shifting forward, letting his fingers slip from your soaked hole. 

he slides inside at the same time his pouty lips envelop your nipple. he’s always been engrossed with your chest, just as much as you are with his. while he’s letting you adjust, his hands move to your ass and squeeze the flesh, eyes fluttering shut as if he’s sated just being inside of you - you know him better than that, though. once you’ve readjusted the red hat on his head, you start to move your hips.

“oh, that’s it,” it’s muffled against your chest, but you hear it, along with the deep groan that leaves his chest. he tries to remain in control, hips moving against yours. “this fuckin’ pussy. been needin’ it all day, baby, you don’t even know.”

“that’s why you came early, santa, right?” you say shakily. the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit in a way that has your eyes watering, and you quicken the pace, pussy clenching down on his shaft. “needed your baby’s pussy too bad. it’s here now, santa, why don’t you just take it?” 

“fffuck,” he leans back on his forearms, nodding, eyes scrunched shut. you can tell he wants to take, to force your pussy to take his thick cock, but the feeling of it all is too pleasurable to think. he’s always been a bit too sensitive. you can tell it’s not going to be a long one already, and your hand snakes down to rub fast circles on your clit. “ah, it’s so- it’s so wet, baby, so wet around my cock.”

you moan, moving like a woman possessed, hips rutting into a fast bounce that has him pistoning in and out of you. it’s then that he takes a little more control, grip moving back to your ass to bounce you on top of him. his cock hits deeper like this when he’s pulling you back and forth, and your toes curl in your socks, nose scrunching at the wet sounds reverberating throughout the room. it really is so wet, and you only have your santa to blame.

your hand slaps over your clit just after he opens his eyes, and they narrow, fixating on your pussy. his chest is heaving, and then in a split move, he’s pushing you down flat onto the sofa.

“keep rubbing it, keep- keep going, i need to cum,” he babbles, shaking his head. he’s out of it, and both gloved hands pin your hips down so he can take it from you. his hips move erratically, balls slapping against your skin, and with one hand you do exactly as he said, rubbing the little bundle of nerves until you’re wailing into his neck. the other hand splays against his stomach, almost as if you’re pushing him back, but he’s too strong for that. “it’s- me, now baby, talk to me. talk to hannie, my baby, c’mon.”

“h-hannie,” you hiccup, tears biting at your eyes. “‘s so good, jisungie, baby. i think i’m gonna cum.”

“yeah? why don’t you cum for me?” jisung questions. the white pom pom of his hat swings in front of his eyes, but jisung’s fed up by now, ripping the fabric from his head and tossing it to the side. it’s nice to see him properly, his face unobscured by taunting red fabric, and he gives you a gummy smile.

the sincerity of him, your boyfriend, your one true love is ultimately what does you in. your gummy walls clench around him, finally letting go, and your fingers slide messily across your clit until you’re finished crying through your orgasm. jisung isn’t far behind, and his lips come to kiss your forehead as he holds you close and pumps you full of his cum.

unceremoniously, jisung collapses with another ‘ooph’, sweaty chest pressing against yours. you know it’s intense for him to cum so quickly, and you run your nails up his back underneath the jacket to soothe him. he hums and wiggles his hips around in glee, as if he’s not still inside of you.

“so,” you yawn, letting your nails run down to scratch over his ass. jisung’s hips buck into you this time. “where did the santa idea come from?”

jisung leans back and rubs your nose with his, giggling. “no idea. it wasn’t even the original plan.”

“it wasn’t?” you gasp, attempting to sit up. “then what was it?”

“what was what?” jisung furrows his eyebrows. you groan.

“what was the original plan, jisungie?”

“oh, that!” he slides out of you, and you try not to giggle at the way he surges off of the sofa with his dick still out. “i’ll show you, just wait there!”

you really do giggle when he runs out of the door, tripping over his trouser legs. you think he’s going to return with the surprise, but then he pokes his head round the door, that same wide grin on his face. 

“merry christmas by the way, my baby. i love you.”

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - Joe Cool

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning(s): fighting, brief mention of physical abuse, aggressive cussing, angst

The comeback fic long as fuck so I’m not proofreading more than once :)

—————————————

Halloween was my favorite holiday. A time for spooky movies and fall decor. Fun candies and dressing up to party. Nothing was better, especially when the leaves began to change and fall from the trees. And in New Jersey, it was one of the most beautiful times of the year. At least I thought.

The leaves bad barely begun to change before I could feel my season turning sour. Will, my boyfriend, had never been a great guy, but the last slivers of hope I’d been clinging to were beginning to slip from my hands. He insulted me in front of his friends, called me names, grabbed me too hard. I kept telling myself it was just the way he was. That we played hard. That he’d learned it from his father. He just needed time to fix himself. But the longer I stayed the worse it got.

Our last argument was over Halloween costumes. I’d given him weeks, and countless ideas to choose from. I couldn’t say why it was the straw that broke the camels back, but when he kept saying nothing sounded good, I had finally lost it. We fought long and hard the night we broke up, before I had finally kicked him out of my apartment. Will was an awful human anyhow. My best friend had always told me as much. I just never listened.

Weeks passed, and I kept myself distracted with the friends I had close. A few of my girls came over, as well as Jack, from time to time. Well… especially Jack.

“So, I know it’s still a little early and stuff but..” Jack paused as he picked up a slice of pizza and set it on his plate, swiftly returning to my living room. “You plan on going out for Halloween?”

I shrugged at the question.

“All my girl friends already coordinated their costumes. I don’t wanna fifth wheel any of them.” I really wasn’t too worried. The breakup had killed my excitement for the holiday anyhow. I waited for Jack to sit before I stretched my legs across his lap. “What are you going as?”

“Haven’t decided. I was gonna go with Luke but he got sick so.. I’m solo this year.” A soft chuckle fell from the boy’s lips. “And Nico is doing some weird thing with Timo.”

“Poor Jackie,” I teased, earning a playfully scolding look from him. We’d put on some Disney Halloween movie, but neither of us had paid much attention to it. We sat in silence for a moment before Jack looked up from his plate, watching me.

“You know Nico said you could come to the Devils party.” He offered.

“Jack-“

“The girls miss you. They haven’t seen you since you got with that Asshole. And I miss partying with you too.” The mention of Will made my eyes fall back to my plate.

“I don’t have anyone to dress up with.” I gasped as Jack pinched my ankle in response. I leaned forward and swatted at him in retaliation.

“Me!” He shouted through laughter, trying to shield himself. Once his words registered, I relaxed. “Me! You can dress up with me.” His concerned expression shifted into peace once he realized I was done attacking him.

“I don’t know.”

“Look, you don’t have to go, but I’d love to see you there. Everyone would.”

I sat in silence and mulled over the idea. What if it was too early? What if I ended up crying halfway through the night? How would I find a costume?

“Jack.. what would we even go as?”

“Easy.” His quick response surprised me. “Your favorite Halloween movie.”

“Huh?”

“Snoopy and Woodstock.” He spoke as if it was obvious. “Charlie brown?” I felt guilty about how quickly my eyes lit up. Like I wasn’t even grieving the loss of a dear lover.

“I have always wanted to do that.”

“I know.” Jack knew. Of course he did. He always did.

“God. I should have dated you instead.” The words slipped from my mouth as a joke, and my eyes fell back to my plate, completely missing the sad look in Jack’s eyes. I took a small bite of pizza, still considering the idea. “If I did go, I’d get to be Woodstock.” I laid out my only condition, half expecting Jack to say no. As if he was anything like my ex.

“I like snoopy.” His easy agreement took me by shock once again.

“You’d really let me be Woodstock?”

“Yes, of course.” Jack smiled. “You’ve got me all excited now, which means you have to go.”

“Okay, but-“

“Nope. You’re going.”

And just like that it was decided.

——

Jesper’s girlfriend had joined me in my apartment to get ready for the party. She was busy doing her makeup to be Jewel from Rio, while I dusted on a light layer of yellow eyeshadow with some bright blush. We’d had a bottle of wine open somewhere, though I couldn’t remember where we left it. Our glasses were more than full, and our hearts were just the same.

“The boys will be here soon. Are you ready to get dressed?” Nicole questioned as she dug through her various lipstick options.

“Yeah. I’ll run into my room and do that now.”

Over the week, I’d gone shopping different times to find the perfect Woodstock outfit. Jack and I had agreed to surprise one another, which only added to the excitement of actually going out. I shut my bedroom door the minute I was inside, rushing to my dresser to pull out the pieces of the costume I had laid out the night before. A yellow body suit, and a matching yellow mini skirt with layers of frills. I had bought a pair of yellow socks as well. I had never imagined myself wearing so much of the color, but once I got the outfit on and peeked in the mirror, I had to admit, I looked cute.

I rummaged through my room to find my white converses, sliding them on and grabbing a pair of sunglasses and the yellow boa I’d bought. It was a simple look, but it worked well. I performed any small adjustments on my hair in the mirror before stepping out. Nicole had already been dressed, though she wore a robe to get ready considering there wasn’t much to her outfit. Not that I blamed her. Jesper would be drooling all night, and that’s exactly what she was going for.

“Nikky!” I called as I walked down the hall into the living room. The woman quickly emerged from the kitchen, the half empty bottle of wine in her hands.

“Oh. My. God.” Her lazy grin turned into a wide smile. “You’re adorable! Jack is gonna love this!”

“Yeah?” Her reaction fueled my confidence. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She took a swig from the bottle before placing it on the coffee table. She walked over to ruffle the boa around my neck, laughing.

“Birds of a feather we must be.” She smirked at her own joke, plucking a yellow feather from my boa and a blue one from her own costume. She laid them on the table together. “A keepsake. It’s cute.” I had to agree, it was. Our phones both went off within moments of each other. Our cue to get moving. I sat on the couch to lace my shoes while Nicole ran off to find her own. We met in the kitchen to take a quick shot before rushing out the door and out of the apartment.

When we got to the car, I found Jack standing outside with a wide grin. And I must admit, his costume brought a grin to my lips as well. Big black puppy ears hung from either side of his head, connected by a small headband barely noticeable through his thick ruffles of hair. He wore a white t-shirt with a little red choker as a collar. And someone, god knows who, had drawn the black nose on for him.

“You look- adorable.” I couldn’t help but reach out for a hug. Jack met me halfway, wrapping his arms tightly around my midsection and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Thanks. Nico’s girl helped me.” Jack giggled, holding on for a second longer than anticipated. When we parted, I couldn’t help but stare. He was so cute like this.

“Come on! In the car!” Nicole opened the passenger side door, climbing in the front with Jesper.

Jack was kind enough to open the back door for me, allowing me to climb in before he did.

“Someone smells like alcohol.” Jesper commented as Nicole shut the door. She and I laughed softly.

“Nothing wrong with a little pregame.” Nicole reasoned. “Now step on it sexy.”

——

When we arrived, my nerves went through the roof. I had sobered up fairly quickly. I hadn’t seen the Devils or any of the girls in so long. I didn’t know where to start conversation, or how to even fill anyone in. But when I stepped out of the car, Jack grabbed my hand, and every single worry flew out the window.

“Everyone is gonna be so excited.” Those were the last words I remember before we walked around the house into the back yard. Then it became a blur for a while. People asked how I was, what I was up to these days, where I had been. It was all a lot. So much so that I’d felt myself slip into autopilot at some point. Though I quickly fell out of it when the excitement of my arrival calmed down and I was able to join Jack at the pong table.

“Snoopy!” I heard the familiar voice of Nico call, both Jack and I turning for only a moment to see the Swiss man approaching. Drunk off his ass.

“Hey, Nico!” Jack had been fairly tipsy as well. Hell, we all were. The only difference was Jack and I could keep our clothes on when we had alcohol in our systems. The same couldn’t be said for Nico or Timo.

After much consideration, Jack and I had agreed that we were certain they’d gone as dumb and dumber. It was only hard to tell because all they had on were the blue and orange pants. All of their other clothes were missing.

“Timo and I play you next!” Nico called, earning a nod from Jack.

The music was loud, and people were yelling louder. A never ending issue of noise. Couples ran in and out of the house, some were in the pool, others at the small homemade bar, and others around the food table. But Jack and I hadn’t moved from the pong table in around 15 minutes. We were the best. We had been since high school.

“You know you look really good tonight?” I called toward Jack, fishing a ping pong ball out of a solo cup.

“Huh? Oh! Thanks! You look pretty too!” We went silent.

“Pretty?” I asked.

“Of course, beautiful.” Jack downed the shot from the cup I’d taken the ball from. I stared at him, surprised. Shocked?

“You don’t mean that.” I brushed the comment off nonchalantly, though Jack quickly looked at me and smirked.

“Yes I do. Of course I do.”

“Jack, stop.” I shook my head, trying to act dumb. Trying to ignore how my heart fluttered. As if I hadn’t crushed on him since high school.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, seeming to realize finally what he was saying. After the exchange, I threw the game, and Nico threw a fit because now he wouldn’t get to play Snoopy.

I was quick to step back from the table, announcing my need for water before I rushed toward the back door to the house. Compared to the coldness of the night air, the indoors was much warmer. As I shut the door behind myself, I let out a soft sigh, hearing voices in the living room. The girls.

I followed the sounds right to the culprits, all curled up with pillows and blankets in a circle on the floor, chatting their lives away.

“Everything okay?” Timo’s girlfriend questioned. Did I still look distressed?

“I’m alright. Just.. Jack-“ I paused. They didn’t need to know. And yet somehow the looks on each of their faces said they already did.

“Sit down. It’s chaotic outside.” Timo’s girlfriend opened a spot on the floor for me, and I made myself at home in the safety of the women.

“It’s still early.” Nicole commented. “Jack just doesn’t get that.”

“What?” I asked, incredulous.

“Nico tells me.” Anna, Nico’s girlfriend spoke up. “Jack just doesn’t wanna lose his chance that’s all.”

Lose his chance? I felt overwhelmed.

“Just don’t rush into anything you’re not ready for.” Timo’s girlfriend reasoned.

What was happening. I had been staring at the floor so long I didn’t even realize I had a room full of eyes on me. Until I looked up.

“He likes me?” I earned a nod. “And you guys knew?” Another nod.

“He hated seeing how Will treated you.” Anna spoke softly, as if that would ease my stress.

“All this time?” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. I needed time to think. To process. To- fuck. Anything. I had waited so long for Jack only to assume he didn’t see me the same way. So I moved on with another man, only to be told he did feel the same.

A knock on the wall brought me from my thoughts. I sat up slightly and spun around only to spot Jack in the doorway. He looked stressed, and his body was swaying back and forth in the slightest.

“Hey can we talk? Upstairs?” Jack’s soft voice broke the silence. I don’t know why but I nodded, stood, and followed him up the steps. Into what I assumed was a guest room. Jack shut the door. “I’m sorry-“

“Why did you wait so fucking long?” I asked, exasperated. My tone caught Jack off guard.

“What?”

“You! You waited!” I raised my voice. “I went through all of that shit because of you!” I didn’t want to be angry. Why was I angry?

I stopped in my tracks the moment I saw the look in Jack’s eyes. Hurt. Betrayal. Shock. Then it fueled my anger, my bitterness.

“That’s not my fault..” his soft voice pushed out.

“If you would have said something I would have fucking dated you! Instead of fucking around with that asshole!” I snapped. “God damnit! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“That’s not my fault and you know it! What the fuck is wrong with you? I was there for you through everything! Every time he yelled at you and called you names! When he didn’t come home some nights or when you needed a place to stay!” Jack raised his voice, “and somehow it’s my fault?! How about it was your bad judgment!”

A mutually hurt silence fell between us. Snoopy wasn’t supposed to yell at Woodstock. They were best friends. But Woodstock had never blamed Snoopy for his hardships and suffering. I felt every emotion in my system come crashing down to sadness. Heartbreak. My body seized up, muscles so tense my arms went numb. My eyes turned glassy and I drew my lip so hard between my teeth that I tasted blood.

“Jack,” his name came out in a whisper.

“No. Fuck it. No. You said what you said. If that’s how you feel then forget it.” Jack took a backwards step toward the door. “Go home.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I ever did shit for you.” He swung the door open, almost running face first into Nicole, giving her a sideways glance before he stormed off down the steps. The tension in my body released in that very moment, my shoulders falling with a broken sob.

What had I done?

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[milk-tea-sakura]

Back Story- Price decides that his team, Ghost, Soap and Gaz need a much needed home cooked meal. And who better to cook it than his own missus. Plus with you cooking he knows for sure his men will eat all the food, after all they don't want to see the disappointed look on your face.

Cw: Fluff, "Family" Gathering

Price looked at his wife Y/n, a smile on his face. "Love, I was thinking... this Christmas, I'd like to invite the team to come over for a home-cooked meal. Would that be alright with you?"

You smiled back at him, clearly pleased by the idea. "Of course, dear. I'd love to have them over for Christmas it'll be nice to have some company other than just us."

Price nodded, relieved that you were on board with the idea. "Excellent, I'll let them know. I'm sure they'll appreciate a warm home-cooked meal and some good company on Christmas day."

You nodded "I'll start planning the menu, it'll be nice to cook for a couple extra people this year. Do you know what they like to eat?"

Price chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt they care. They're just a bunch of hungry soldiers who'll eat anything i put infront of them."

You laughed, imagining the men eagerly devouring whatever food you put on the table. "Well, I'll make sure I cook enough food for a small army then."

Price grinned, obviously amused by the thought. "They'll appreciate that. They'll probably be asking for seconds before they even finish their first plate."

You chuckled, thinking about the men asking for more even with a full plate. "Well, I'll make sure we have plenty extras just incase. And maybe some extra deserts aswell."

Price nodded, clearly looking forward to the Christmas dinner. "That sounds perfect. I'm sure the team will appreciate your cooking, love. And I know I will as well."

~~Christmas day~~

Christmas day had finally arrived, and you were in the kitchen busily preparing the big dinner for the teams dinner. The house smelled like a mix of delicious spices and holiday treats as you finished up the last few dishes in the kitchen while singing along to Christmas music.

After a long couple of hours of cooking, you were finally done. The table was finally set with all kinds of homemade dishes, and the house felt warm and inviting. Price helped put the finishing touches on everything when he heard a knock on the door.

Price smiled at you as he went to answer the door. He opened it to find Ghost, Soap, and Gaz standing on the other side, all wearing smiles and holding gifts in their hands.

"Come on in, lads," Price said, stepping back to let them enter. The men all came into the house, looking around and taking in the festive decorations.

"Wow, the house looks amazing," Soap said, looking around at the Christmas decorations. Gaz and Ghost nodded in agreement, clearly both impressed by your handiwork.

You came out of the kitchen to greet them, a big smile on your face. "I'm so glad you could all make it. Merry Christmas, everyone."

The men all greeted her back, wishing you a Merry Christmas as well. They handed her the gifts they'd brought, each one wrapped neatly and tied with a bow.

You thank them for the gifts, setting them under the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. The food is just about ready to be served."

The men all found seats around the dining table, with Ghost sitting on one end and Soap and Gaz sitting on either side of him. Price took a seat next to you, a small twinge of nervousness in his stomach.

You, noticing your husband's slight anxiety, placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Relax, darling. Everything will be fine."

Price nodded and taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I know, love. I just want everything to go smoothly, that's all."

"You said yourself that these men will eat practically anything."

Price chuckled, his nerves starting to ease a bit. "You're right, you're right. They're basically human garbage disposals, they'll eat almost anything put infront of them."

Gaz and Soap mock-gasped at his comment. "Oi, we're not that bad!" Gaz said, feigning offense.

Price just laughed "Oh please, I've seen you two eat. You'll eat anything that's not nailed down."

Gaz and Soap both shrugged, not denying the accusation. Soap chimed in with a grin. "We just have a good appetite, that's all."

"It's because the Army starves you all, eat. I made it all for you guys."

Soap and Gaz both nodded, their eyes roaming over the spread of homemade food on the table. "We don't need to be told twice, Mrs. Price," Gaz said with a grin. "We'll gladly eat it all for you."

"What about you Ghost? What would you like to be passed to you?" You say with a slight jester to the food on the table.

Ghost looked over the food on the table, his eyes scanning the various dishes. "I'll take a bit of everything, love," he said, a small smile on his lips. "It all looks delicious."

Y/n chuckled, feeling emboldened by his response. "Everything, huh? You have quite the appetite, Ghost."

Ghost shrugged, unashamed of his hunger. "What can I say? I'm a man who knows what he likes."

"Well what are we waiting for, start passing food around. I mainly just want ham and sausage balls but you are all welcome to anything on the table."

The men all smiled at her words, clearly eager to dig in. "You don't have to tell us twice," Soap said, already reaching for the serving platter of ham on the table.

Gaz quickly followed suit, grabbing the platter of sausage balls she'd mentioned. "These look amazing," he said, sniffing at the food appreciatively.

Ghost nodded in agreement, his eyes roaming over the rest of the table. "Everything looks fantastic," he said, his voice low and rough. "You've outdone yourself, Y/n."

Y/n smiled at Ghost's compliment, feeling a sense of pride in her cooking. "I'm glad you all like it. Please, dig in."

The men didn't need any more invitation. They immediately started passing dishes around the table, loading up their plates with a bit of everything.

The room was filled with the sounds of forks and knives clinking against plates, as well as the occasional appreciative moan or sigh of pleasure.

"This is incredible," Soap said, his mouth full of food. "You really are an amazing cook, Y/n."

Gaz nodded in agreement, his fork already spearing another sausage ball. "Agreed. I don't think I've ever had a Christmas meal this good."

Ghost, as usual, said nothing, focused on eating as much as he could. But his face was a clear indication of his enjoyment, his expression one of pure bliss as he savored each bite.

Price sat back in his chair, watching the men devour his wife's cooking with a mixture of pride and amusement. "You see, love? I told you they'd eat everything you put in front of them."

"And you were nervous."

Price chuckled, a trace of embarrassment in his voice. "Yeah, maybe I was a bit worried they wouldn't like your cooking. But I should have known better. You're an amazing cook, after all."

"You eat too, love"

"Of course," Price said, grabbing a plate and starting to load it up with food. He glanced over at the men, all of whom were already on their second or third helpings. "You boys better slow down, or you'll eat us out of house and home."

"Their fine, I made extra"

"Looks like we've got our own personal eating team here," Soap teased between bites. "We can clear a buffet like nobody's business."

Gaz chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Damn right. Give us a challenge and we'll win it. You won't see a single crumb left on these plates."

Ghost just grunted in agreement, his mouth too full to speak. But the fact that he was already on his third helping spoke volumes

The dinner continued on, the men continuing to devour the food as fast as they could. They all praised Y/n's cooking, and even Ghost managed to mutter a compliment or two.

Price sat back in his chair, watching the display with a mixture of amusement and pride. He'd never seen his team eat so much, but he couldn't blame them. His wife's cooking was truly incredible.

As the meal came to an end, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She smiled, knowing that she had managed to feed and please a group of hungry soldiers.

[letskilltimetogether]

Omg I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging ;-; I can only offer the excuse of crippling school projects, but I’m back!

Dr. Stone Spoilers for most of the story

Okay so your point about him being a good leader actually opened up a can of worms in my brain. This is def kind of off topic? But I think it’s interesting so I want to write it down for my own sanity.

For a while know I’ve been coining Senkuu as a bad leader, or at least not ideal for personal writing purposes, but your comment made me rethink it. Looking at things with a fresh start, I realized Senkuu is a good leader, but not in the way I was originally imagining. (Doing my best to keep it as canon as possible) Senkuu 1. Cares deeply about people, not just his own 2. Is very strategic and thinks of the future 3. Does not want power. These 3 aspects make him a good leader, especially in the setting of Dr. Stone.

To use an analogy, He would be a very good science club leader, which is kind of what he is. He is dedicated to the craft, and can manage a small group of people with similar goals, and rather than excluding others, he encourages and fights for them to join his club of nerds.

However!

For the first part of Dr. Stone, that works fine. It’s just the Kingdom of Science and the Empire of Might. It’s like 140 people, who although need some coaxing, can work together. But once America hits and they have Zenos people how have very different ideas, and all sorts of other civilizations across the globe… people are going to have conflicting ideas. There’s always going to be Tsukasas, misguided people, and Hyogas and Homuras, people who don’t mean well and try to shape the world in their making. This is where I believe Senkuu is no longer the best choice, as I don’t think he could handle managing and keeping peace between all of these people, in addition to perusing and steam heading science projects. Obviously there’s people to help him do these things, but it’s a lot.

Many people instead make Ryusui the main leader, which is not a bad decision. He’s used to leadership and thrives in positions of power, and cares about the people around him, even if they don’t like him(most of this comes from his confidence/arrogance, but still). He is great at planning and managing people, and is decent at working with people who have different views than him. However he doesn’t really understand the differences between what people say/think they want, and what they need, and he could make bad decisions based on that misconception. In addition, Ryusui is pretty disconnected from the people around him as he had a very different upbringing, and can’t always relate to people. This makes him a caring leader, but unable to properly act this way.

Both he and Senkuu are decent leaders on their own, but still not great. In conclusion, I say the best solution is to have the 5 generals, so some other council, in charge. They balance each other’s faults, this sharing of power relieves the pressure of leading the entirety of humanity from 1 person’s shoulders.

Main tangent over lol.

I def agree about Senkuu trying to save everybody, including Tsukasa, with all of the stuff happening at the beginning of Treasure Island Arc being a lot to juggle. This means to me that his decision to give Hyoga and Homura to the “authorities”/legal system is weak evidence for him being lawful.

I feel like we’re running this thread dry, so I pose another question: How do you feel about the ending of the manga, and how would you change it? I have some strong thoughts about those last few arcs lol.

*offers microphone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other*

Also happy holidays!!

Your honor they're homosexuals

[love-toxin]

Dorian doesn’t know his own strength, you say? 👀 can’t wait for him to get all mean n’ bruise my cervix prrrrrr-

somehow I have this image of like...Dorian being so paranoid about being found out as an android/hunted down by Trinity that when you arrive on scene, he's so suspicious of you (because you're too pretty and make him feel too weird to be any normal human) and obsesses over thoughts of you without knowing he's in love until you do something drastic--like show up at his apartment door with some desserts you made or just to deliver his mail that was in your box by accident. and you have such a huuuuge crush on him you let him drag you by the arm into his place and shut the door behind you, thinking he's finally confessing his feelings for you even though he looks like he's about to punch something to everyone else.

(cws: rough sex, dubcon, afab darling)

cut to him holding your arms back and absolutely plowing you on his bed from behind, your pretty legs all shaky and your tits jiggling so mesmerizingly as he drags his cock in deep squelching thrusts through your precious, messy cunt. he's trying to interrogate you but he sounds somewhat garbled because of his messed-up voicebox, and it just sounds like guttural moans to you so you're none the wiser. when you try to squirm off he thinks it's cause you're trying to get out of talking--even though it's really cause he's pushing you to the brink of cumming your brains out--and he yanks you back by the hips every time, slamming you down on his cock even harder to hear you yelp and squeal before you bow your head in submission again.

eventually he realizes he's not getting the answers he wants, and that you're actually getting pleasure out of this questioning session, so he plucks you off the sheets and manhandles you in front of his mirror, just to bend you over the coffee table and make you look at how pathetic this is. how much you leak and drip all over his sweatpants as he pries you open, how your back arches and your tongue lolls out of your mouth when you should be clamming up and kicking him off. what's really pathetic is how hard he is, to the point that his cock has taken on a purplish hue at the tip (he didn't even know it could look that way) and it's no surprise when he decides that if you aren't going to talk, you should at least put your mouth to use and stuffs his tongue inside it. he hates all you Trinity scum, but he hates you the most, because no lemming of theirs should ever have such a soft, clingy pussy and the sweetest eyes when you beg for him to cum. he hates that you run your fingers through his hair and flash him a wobbly smile as you confess that you like him too, and that you wish you had said something sooner. he shouldn't cringe when you gasp in pain at a particularly bruising thrust, and he especially shouldn't pull out and lift your hips to his face to kiss your sweet, sloppy pussy better.

eventually, he'll have to realize that you're not with Trinity at all and that he just has a fat crush on you, but that might not come for awhile. so there's plenty of time, once he's finally let you drop and catch your breath for the session, to interrogate you again. maybe he needs new methods; new positions, new tortures to put you through, like sitting you on his mouth until you squirt or fucking those beautiful tits until he shoots ropes all over your adorable face. maybe he just has to pin you in a mating press and let you feel his biceps flex as he holds you down, threatening to put you in a chokehold if you don't give up Trinity's secret plans. there's so much he can do...and he won't rest until he's tried everything to get you to fess up, innocent or not.

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

It itches my brain, fam, because I can *see* all the perspectives and philosophies. If he leaves well enough alone, he is forsaking the ancient elves and condemning their society to utter extinction. He has the ability to fix things (supposedly) and simply accepting things as they are is like getting away with murder with a “sorry”. But if he does try to change things, he is condemning an entire world to death. He is trying to wrench the past into the present, trying to resurrect an empire. Even though he hates imperialism and empires, that’s what he’s doing.. He is trying to replace those alive *now* with those whose existences are *potential*. He’s trying to bring back people who lived during a time of great splendor and eminence. In essence, Solas wants the ancient elves to *replace* those who are presently living. He doesn’t get into what this means for humans or qunari or dwarves (the latter existed during ancient elvhenan). Can we be sure that the ancient elves would resist exerting superiority/supremacy over the remaining living people? Can we?

As far as I understand. I still don’t understand what he means by bringing back the Ancient Elves. If he means that there are ancient elves in comas he wants to resurrect or souls stuck in the Fade he wants to give bodies? Or he means the few elves like Abelas that are still alive that he wants to return their pre-Veil powers to. IT’S REALLY UNCLEAR.

The reason WHY I am so furtive about the Veil is because so many important details are left unknown. In a conversation you have with him in DAI on the balcony, he tells you to your face you flout the categories he has created for the different races, and this is him as Wisdom-Pride given mortal form. I cannot shake the nagging worry that the Ancient Elves, if they were to return, wouldn’t reassume a collective sense of racial superiority over the surviving living races. If they truly get their resurrected empire off the ground, I can 100% see them marginalizing the modern elves, dwarves, humans, and qunari. Everyone would be “separate but equal”, and not even Solas with his good intentions and “philosopher king” pursuit of freedom would be able to prevent it. If the ancient elves were to get their shit together, some form of organization would need to be arranged, and like Elgar’nan, it could lead to a consolidation of power that recreates oppressive hierarchal structures. Solas would probably take up the mantle, reluctantly, but for all of his desire that rulers cede power when they are no longer needed, he would have to remain a ruler if only to prevent war lords and ambitious ancient elves from pulling another elgar’nan. He would either need to become the thing he detests, watch the ancient elves make the same mistake as before, or watch the ancient elves wither away and die before their society ever had a chance to see its true birth. Just because the ancient elves were slaves and freemen who suffered under the tyranny of the Evanuris doesn’t mean that their suffering will make them nobler or more insightful and more sensitive to the harm they could inflict on the survivors of the apocalypse. Because it would be an apocalypse.

But again I need details on how Solas’s plans allow the ancient elves to come back and exactly how many people will die if they were to go off without a hitch. We talking 25%? 50%? 75%? 80%?

I want to live in a world where it is possible for there to be a Legend of Korra style Harmonic Convergence where spirits and people can mish mash together with minimal death and bloodshed. Where the hell is that option. Yes it’s very neat and tidy and “happily ever after” but I don’t care, make it one of the most difficult and intricate world states that you need to do a fuckton of things to be able to trigger! Have your Inquisitor and Solas be the sacrifices needed to make that happen so that you still get that bittersweet tragedy, crib the “Shepard is Spacedust Spacetime God” for it, idk! Make a dozen different endings, if you want.

Veil comes down (Inquisitor dies)- Inquisitor dies in attempt to prevent it. Thus Solas wins, but it’s a pyrrhic victory because it is the final piece of his humanity he has sacrificed. He rules as a stone-hearted king. Romance version: Solas has once again lost a world he cherished. His heart.

Veil comes down (Solas dies)- Solas dies to ensure it does, believing the world is better without him in it. The final sacrifice. But without Solas to lead the ancient elves, his efforts are all but wasted. They cannot gather together to rebuild and meanwhile every other kingdom and empire is crumbling from the shock of the Veil torn down. The world is on fire and demons are everywhere and oh my God what the fuck. This is the worst ending.

Veil stays up - Inquisitor dies to keep it up and things end up in such a way that Solas is incapable of ever interfering with the Veil again. His punishment is to live in this world created by his actions, divested of power, neutered.

Veil stays up (Romance optional: Stop Solas) - Solas somehow, either voluntarily or involuntarily, sacrifices himself to keep it intact. Essentially the “Good” and “Trick” DATV endings.

Veil stays up (Romance optional: Stop/Save Solas) Solas abandons his desire to tear down the veil. He accepts that trying to change the world is not worth it because this world is also worthy of life. Solas is basically put in Inquisitor’s/Lavellan’s custody. One can choose whether to imprison Solas, Tranquilize him, kill him, or task him with helping make the world a better place.

Veil comes down (Romance-Save Solas) - By some means, Solas and Lavellan sacrifice themselves to bring the Veil down safely. LoK Harmonic Convergence. It is more difficult for the world to adjust. Solas is not there to lead the ancient elves, Lavellan is not there to help unite modern people. It’s a brave new world, for better or worse. Underlying theme: We have to believe and hope that people will strive to make the world better.

Veil comes down (Romance-Save Solas) - The rarest and most difficult achievement. Solas and Lavellan survive and the Veil comes down. They are there to lead their worlds toward integration and coexistence. They live happily ever after. I don’t know what big sacrifice needs to be made for this to work. Perhaps Solas completely loses his magic? Perhaps he also loses a limb. I don’t know, fam.

Anyone got any other ending ideas?

I’m just talking aloud and getting my thoughts down. Pay no mind to me. I have never claimed to be good at writing stories.

[25centsoda]

Tagged by @jediscribe! <3

Long Awaited, Unexpected summary: "Young padawan Luke Skywalker and his master Obi-Wan Kenobi get a visit from Inquisitors. It will change their lives—and Vader's—forever." Basically, Luke and Obi-Wan get drugged and taken by Inquisitors and Vader goes "omg is that my son" and hugs Luke while Obi-Wan is #suffering in the corner. The final chapter is partially written but needs to be finished.

Crawl Before You Can Fly is inspired by Ursula K. Le Guin's The Fliers of Gy, a short story within her book "Changing Planes", wherein some humans grow wings at age 18-19. It's a long, fever-intensive process that basically incapacitates you for a year. F in the chat for Luke, who was just starting this process when he went on the Cymoon-1 mission, and got discovered - and captured - by Vader. :) The fic will be a VERY long one, featuring Luke's entire year, going from "out of his mind with fever and sleeping all the time" to "got some functioning back but needs to learn how to operate these new limbs" to "learning to fly" to "fully functioning again now let's take down the government". I plan to write it as a oneshot collection, with installments of various lengths. Basically, it's a lot of whump and family bonding - and eventually murder! First installment will be Cymoon-1 and the lead-up thereto, then a 5+1 where Vader tries to get a feverish Luke to comprehend the "I am your father" reveal. Other planned installments include Piett #suffering, and Palpatine being delighted that he has a new propaganda piece in the new Imperial Prince. Luke has a rough time, but I'm having so much fun.

The Language of Love summary: Lighthouse keeper Din Djarin has finally left his bloody past behind him and lives on a secluded coastal island with his nonverbal son, Grogu. Life is quiet and routine until a mute merman washes up onshore and refuses to be thrown back into the ocean... | Ft Cara Dune, Moff Gideon, and Din et al getting dragged to the deep by Luke's father as both Din and Luke's pasts come back to haunt them. It's got AAC (based off of my boards and others found online), it's got Little Mermaid vibes, it's got murder, it's got magic, it's got complicated family stuff. I tried to finish it before the summer ended but then I got hella busy, and then Fliers of Gy took over my brain lmao. I have 3 chapters out of 5 written, the 4th chapter is started, and I have plans/ideas for the last two chapters.

Tagged here by @kimium!

Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Here are your options…

These are the only options at the moment, sorry!

Tagging: @waythroughtheice @tyrantchimera @emeraldthelynx

Feel free to play or ignore!

[tagsecretsanta]

From @call-me-casual

From @call-me-casual to @thalassastra

Prompts

John and Scott

The natural world or a non-sky/space related hobby

Hurt/comfort or fluff

The plan:

John and Scott go for an early-morning walk post mission in a frosty park. Hijinks ensue. Scott worries about John, falls down, they laugh. They find a robin (or does it find them?), and reminisce about an old superstition their mum told them a long time ago. “Maybe someone doesn’t have to be dead to send a robin. Maybe… if they try hard enough, they can send one anyway, to see if we’re alright.”

-

Silence in space was very different to “silence” on Earth. Most people thought they knew quiet, but they had never truly been in the absence of sound created by the endless vacuum that was their universe. In a way, you could consider it a vast deprivation chamber, nothing to hear or feel, your only visuals being stars no matter which way you turn. 

Silence on Earth wasn’t silence. No matter where on the planet someone stood, there would always be noise. Leaves rustling, cars rumbling along roadways, the far off chatter of other humans, the wind. Hell, even things like the aurora had a sound if you listened hard enough. Although that occurred in the atmosphere - so would it count as a space sound? Eh, who cares about specifics. 

In this place, Earth silence was the distant trickle of frigid water, the flitter of wings as a robin hopped from one skeletal tree to another, a crow hidden somewhere in the morning mist letting the world hear what it had to say, the gentle crunch of frosted ground underfoot-

“I mean, the nerve! The audacity!”

John smirked. Seemed like the crow wasn’t the only thing making its opinions known.

Scott’s face was pulled into an annoyed pout of sorts. John knew his older brother, could read him like one of his many (many, probably too many) books, and considered himself fluent enough in Scott-facial-language to understand when he was dealing with ‘annoyed, but harmless’ Scott Tracy versus ‘I’m five seconds from murder or a breakdown’ Scott Tracy. Today was the former. 

The orphan commander grumbled as he trudged along, looking a bit like an angry dragon with the little puffs of steam that came from his breath, his hands fiddling with the strings of a hoodie worn not out of necessity, but a half-arsed attempt at concealing his IR uniform. Anyone with functioning eyes and half a synapse could see that everyone from the waist down gave it away, but it was 7:09am, GMT, in early December. No sane English person would be up at this time, let alone out for a run.

They walked past a tall cluster or gorse, bedazzled so slightly by ice and frost that glinted in what sunlight broke through the clouds. Lady P had been right, this place was beautiful…

That hoodie string wasn’t going to last much longer like this.

“Alright, what’s wrong, Scott?” 

“We’ve come a long way as a species, but this could set us back years! Decades!” The brunette tugged at his hair, disrupting the perfectly combed style.

John could feel a smirk tugging at his lips

“Are you still on that?”

“Yes! If this were to get out-“

“I don’t think people will try it, Scott…”

Scott turned to look at John, big blue eyes narrowed with cold seriousness.

“You don’t know people like I do, John. You haven’t… haven’t seen what I’ve seen. There are maniacs out there, pure evil. This is… it’s too dangerous. We need to alert the GDF! I refuse to let my brothers live in a world where-“

The ginger fought the urge to roll his eyes, finding support against a fence post. Damn gravity.

“It’s pie, Scott. The world isn’t going to end because someone put cream cheese on their pie.”

Scott scowled, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a melodramatic huff. He blinked his eyes, jaw tensed to hold in what was obviously a yawn.

“You haven’t slept in over 24 hours, have you?”

It was hardly a question, John had been the one to send Scott on back to back missions - regretfully - and he knew how his brother worked. Burn bright, burn fast, burn out.

Scott waved his hand dismissively, blinking again.

“I’m fine, just a little tired.” He said “Nothing a little cold air won’t fix!”

“…”

“Okay and maybe a coffee.” Scott didn’t bother to hide the roll of his eyes, even as he turned that gaze of sky to his lesser earthbound brother.

“But what about you?” He said, “It’s an icy, frosty morning and you’ve just thrown yourself down from Five to…” Scott trailed off, brow knotting together as he came to the realisation that he didn’t actually know John’s motives for leaving his usually preferred solitude in geostationary orbit.

John huffed, trying to reached across a large gap in the fence without losing his current handhold. That would spell disaster in way of sudden acquaintance with the dirt, and there was no way in hell he’d give Scott the satisfaction of seeing that happen.

“Can’t a guy want to spend some quality time with his big brother?”

“You have Virgil for that-“

“I said big brother, I didn’t say older brother.”

Scott’s face scrunched, each invasive silver hair glinting like the frost. John frowned.

“When was the last time you hung out with any of us? No, let me rephrase-“

John clutched to a fence post as pulled himself up,

“-When was the last time any of us hung out with you?”

There it was. The sideways glance, the twitch of the lips, the falter.

Scott Tracy wore his mask well in front of the world, the mask of the strapping young man who’d stepped up to bare the weight of their father’s legacy. But when they were alone, when the only eyes on them were that of a singing robin did that mask, for just a moment, slip.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not very interesting-“

“Scott-“

“I’m fine-“

“You’re still our brother-“

“I told you I’m f-IIINNEEE!”

Scott Tracy was many things. Daring. Charismatic. Loyal to a fault. Heart of gold. A quick thinker. 

Graceful on ice, or any other slippery surface for that matter? Unfortunately no.

The brunet’s notorious “noodle legs” (so affectionately named by Tracy Island’s resident Fish freak) fell from under him, and for a brief second Scott’s equally “noodly” arms - John made a mental note to ask Virgil to keep an eye on when their brother eats - flailed like the flapping of a nearby robin’s wings in attempt to keep upright.

That cruel mistress gravity won out. Scott hit the ground with a thud, gasping in pain as his head slammed on the ground.

“Scott!”

John’s heart sank. Oh no, no no no no. A hit like that could leave at best a concussion, at worse more serious damage. What if Scott couldn’t fly One? What if he got knocked out? What if he got brain damage?! What if-

The undignified yelp that left the Space Monitor’s lips would go unheard and forgotten. If anyone asked, it never happened. Never. Like a tree falling in the woods with no one around to hear it.

Was that how the saying went?

He flopped down into the cold and the dirt alongside Scott, getting a face full of hoodie. John raised his head and shook it frantically.

“Scott?!”

Please be okay please be-

Scott’s shoulders shook, his chest heaving with each shaky breath he took. A hand found its way to John’s back, clutching it as the pilot threw his head back

And laughed.

It was a sound as welcome as a robin’s song on a cold winter’s morning, and in no time John joined him.

-

Silence on Earth wasn’t silence. No matter where on the planet someone stood, there would always be noise. Leaves rustling, cars rumbling along roadways, the far off chatter of other humans, the wind…

And the shivers of a pair of tropically-acclimated brothers as they huddled on a small bench, watching the sublimation of sun-warmed frost mingle with the waning sea of mist.

Scott giggled softly, the dimples gracing his cheeks creased and deepened as that still youthful face pulled back into a relaxed, gleeful expression. Sunlight to melt away the cold silver that tried to creep in, to take that boy away from them all. John idly rubbed at the drying mud in the pilot’s hair.

He knew, that just like the endless return of winter and the greater pass of time, that the silver would always be there, waiting like a beast beyond a door, ready to take Scott into its peremptory grasp and never let go. It would come one day, but not today. John Glenn Tracy was not a man who gave in, and he intended to hold the beast at bay for as long until he could no longer.

No one would take his brother from him.

A small flash of red flittered across his vision, and John looked up at the little robin settled on a branch overhead. Scott sniffed, trying to dispel the cold from his now reddened nose.

“I swear that thing has been following us.” John thought aloud.

“The robin?” Scott sat up, relinquishing John’s side back to the frigid air. “Aww, he’s cute!”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

Scott shrugged, “it’s big?”

John rolled his eyes in amusement, even if he itched to correct his brother.

“It’s the females that bigger in most bird species.”

“I swear Virgil said robin guys are bigger.”

John hummed in acknowledgment, chewing his inner cheek to distract himself. Damn it.

“…I’ve got one of those shortbread things in my pocket.” Scott said, reaching a hand into his worn out hoodie, producing a small packet. He pressed it between his hands, grinding the contents.

“Give me your hand.”

John blinked, sitting a little straighter.

“Me? Why me?”

Those big pools of sky did a barrel roll. The eldest grabbed his brother’s hand, bringing it close and tipping the former shortbread into John’s hand.

“Because you need some connection to the planet you’re from that isn’t going face first into it.”

Okay, touché. John couldn’t find an argument against that. This was the first time he’d been down in what, a month? Two? He’d ask EOS, but the space monitor had suspicion that she’d take his brother’s side and join team Smotherhen. Traitorous little…

“Still, John!” Scott’s excited whisper brought John back to Earth. Was he trying to tell him something and he’d completely ignored him? Or was that an instruction? A pair of tiny talons gripped into his spacesuit, and John watched as the small robin - its feathers a shade Virgil would almost definitely call “Scott brown” and its belly a fiery orange not unlike John’s own hair - pecked at the offering. Its moved with swift little hops, dipping its head down like lightning to enjoy the treat. Occasionally those black eyes would glance his way, and John felt his breath catch.

The brothers sat in silence, watching as their little friend ate.

“He’s tame.” Scott mumbled quietly.

“I still think it’s a female.” John said. The robin didn’t move.

Scott curled his hand, gripping his uniform with that telltale anxious energy. He chewed his lip before speaking.

“Do you… remember that old saying mum used to tell us after Grandpa died? That robins-“

“-are our loved ones coming to check on us?” John recalled that day. It was little Alan’s first time seeing the red-bellied birds. Gordon’s too, if he remembered correctly - that boy only had eyes for anything that swam. It had sat on the windowsill all morning, an unusual sight for the ranch’s climate really. Their baby brother had been so fascinated by it, until it flittered suddenly and startled the toddler. Mum had consoled him, and told them all it was just Grandpa. The old man had always loved a good joke.

“Do you think it’s mum?”

“I thought you said it was a male robin.” John cast his brother a smirk.

“Well it can’t be…” Scott trailed off like the word had lodged in the back of his throat, refusing to come out. Because that would be bringing a bad idea into the world, making it real.

“He’s not… he can’t…” the frost began to creep in.

John ran his free hand up Scott’s back, up until he brushed against his hair like he could melt the silver away with the warmth of his hand. Staring down that vile beast, standing tall and saying “try me”.

John Glenn Tracy had lost his father to the frost. He wouldn’t lose Scott.

“You know, Scott… mum never said our loved ones had to be dead. Maybe you don't have to be dead to send a robin. Maybe… if they try hard enough, if they really, really try… they can send one anyway, to make sure we’re okay.”

[dsireland86]

The 5th Day Of Christmas:

Have A Holly Jolly Christmas

Tag list:

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Christmas Morning with the guys would always be memorable. Jolly, Noah, and Matt always sleep late, while Nick and Folio are the first ones up, dragging you along with them.

Instead of coffee, Nick prepares large cups of hot cocoa so chocolatey, you swear you get a cavity just from drinking it.

Folio puts on your traditional Christmas holiday movie, “A Christmas Carol” (the one with Jim Carrey) and with you in the middle, the three of you wake up together, snuggled up tight.

By the late morning, Noah, Jolly, and Matt have showered and dressed, meeting the three of you, who are still dressed in matching Christmas pj's, downstairs. Noah rolls his eyes dramatically the moment he sees the three of you. Matt can’t hold back his sarcastic comments, and Jolly just smiles and tells you how cute you look, with a soft kiss to the forehead.

You sit on the floor between Noah's legs, watching Matt and Folio argue on how the order of gift opening is going to go. Noah's gentle rubbing of your shoulders soothes you to the point that there is no trace of tension in your body. You rest your arms on his knees, but quickly wrap them around his legs as you rest your head against him.

Gift unwrapping goes in order. Matt goes first and has to make a non-serious sarcastic comment about every gift except yours which is nothing but stuff for his two boys; new leashes, food bowls, toys, and treats. Matt thanks you with a big hug and a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

Jolly is next. He says he's still getting used to American Christmas and how these traditions are so different compared to Swedish traditions. The gifts you give him remind him of home, and at one point, when he looks at you with a smile, you see the small glints of tears in the corners of his eyes.

Nicholas opens his faster than the other two. His pile of drawing pens, paints, canvases, make him super excited, and for the remainder of the Christmas morning, he divulges his plans of new flash cards and art he and Davis are working on. You ask him later for a new tattoo, and show him your idea to which his face lights up. Matching tattoos for the six of you gets him in the drawing mood.

Foilo's turn is up. He obviously can't be serious about hardly anything, the bows especially. Later he tells you how hot you'd look wearing only them while sitting on his bike, making you laugh. After unwrapping new bike gear, a drum rug, and fishing attire, you make your way over to him, finding comfort in his arms as Noah's turn is up next.

Anime, Anime, Anime; his family knows him all too well. Your gift is the last, which is a custom made Demon Slayer Hashira sword; a Nichirin sword. Noah's speechless. He pulls you up to him, wrapping you up in his long, strong arms and muttering thank you and how much he loves you. He kisses you, making you feel so defenseless and weak, to the point that the need to be alone with him overtakes you instantly.

You're the last one to open gifts. Five gifts sit in a perfect pile beside you with five sets of eyes watching you in anticipation. One by one, you open them, smiling, laughing, and crying over each one. They resemble something personal between you and the one who gifted it to you, something only the two of you would understand. You hug and kiss each guy, thanking them sweetly.

Dinner comes, the six of you contributing something to the meal. You, of course, handle the choice of meat, while the other five manage the sides. It's a perfect night filled with laughter, stories, memories made, and new ideas for the New Year. You don't want the night to end, but you know it has to at some point. Thankfully, Nicholas suggests one more movie before bed.

"It's A Wonderful Life" has Matt, who's never seen it, almost in tears. You sit, snuggled up into Jolly's side, watching as he subtly dries his eyes. His vulnerability is a sight to behold, making your heart melt. Noah reaches over and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You glance at him only to find his sight fixed on the TV as well, and the tender moment makes you want to cry. Holding Noah's hand still, you snuggle deeper in Jolly's side and drift off to sleep.

[clownowo]

Guardian of the Eastern Gate and the One Entrusted with a Flaming Sword by God: Principality Aziraphale

[overx]

"You can't--!" Vi catches himself, voice lowering. "...you can't be serious." Not disbelief, entirely, no. Anyone would have needed help to pull that off. Even me. "That is one hell of a conclusion to come to, sir..." but the logic is sound.

The whole situation had felt fishy from the start, especially with the insistence there be little to no Maverick Hunter presence. "...well shit boss, we can't exactly make these accusations public. What the hell are we supposed to do?" Hardly had time to sit, and already the idea is getting under his skin.

"Great. GREAT. Just what we need! Evil undead alternates and political subterfuge! Sure! Why not." Vile grimaces momentarily as Xanti finishes replacing a fried cable-- didn't hurt until it was fixed. "Fucking hell... we're the only people in that room that aren't suspects."

Finally, the brunet speaks up as he discards the burned out wiring from Vi's limb. "Everyone in that room would have the resources to arm him, sure." That was a no brainer. There was enough money and political will to get one rogue machine some ride armor and new weapons.

"...and there's two ways this could have happened. Someone gave him information beforehand," which could have been anyone. "It'd be a lot riskier to do it that way... since the plans could have been delayed or changed last minute." Then there's option two: "...oooor someone was feeding him live info. Only one of the reploids in the room could do that, or anyone who stepped away temporarily." Security, and personal aids who cycled quietly in and out.

"...but if he's really a Maverick, then his presence already gives half the game away." There's almost no possibility that this guy was working with humans, right? "That still leaves us a few names, but it's a start." That still doesn't answer who the target was supposed to be.

"Zain," you know him better than anyone else. "What does your gut tell you? Do you think he was supposed to be an assassin? Kidnapper? Or was this stunt of his meant to fail?" Just an act to put everyone on edge-- to get fingers pointing? Did someone really think he'd succeed with Zero literally in the room?

Even if the outburst hadn't been intended, every word was true. Still, he shouldn't have snapped, if his subordinate's expression was anything to go by. Zain's sigh puffs his bangs out and away from his face, hands with nothing better to do fidgeting with torn threads on his slacks.

His anger had performed as intended-- briefly distracting him from his surroundings-- but just as quickly subsided to the discomfort of the quiet rhythmic beep of Xanti's monitors. It's cold. I feel cold. Even after he's given permission to escape, the gentle smile from his boyfriend and the seemingly conclusive end to their conversation, the blond grimaces.

Hesitation permeates every movement, but he still needs to speak. If nothing, for those who shared the same cursed knowledge as him. "...No. There's more." Even as he fiddles with the Maverick's files, there is a growing pit in his core. "Even if I don't know how he got here, it doesn't explain where his mech came from."

Vile didn't have access to the same resources as his Hunter counterpart had, "...and I know he wasn't aware of what Xanti looked like until today. He was there for someone else." While goading Zain wasn't too off target, what had happened was certainly not gone to plan-- if the anger they'd received was anything.

"He shouldn't have known the exact coordinates of the Conference's room, or when to show up when the security was lighter."

Too many loose ends. "Someone in that hall had to have been feeding him information."

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

[mabaris]

alright so now that we’ve gotten some actual crumbs, it feels like it’s a good time to lay out my prediction for what da4 is going to look like. writing this in a letter and mailing it to myself

we are part of an underground organization formed from the ruins of the inquisition to stop solas from ending the world

meanwhile the wardens have been researching the blight/the location of the archdemons and discover some secret about the location of the black city/what is actually contained in it

we’re supposed to be shocked at the reveal that the evanuris are trapped in the black city and the maker doesn’t exist

the ancient elves were in control of some crazy mutating technology (like in hormak) and that was the original source of the darkspawn. the whole thing about them being from the deep roads and a dwarf concern was actually just a red herring, they’re just underground because they’re powered by lyrium and this has ALSO been an elf thing the whole time :)

anyway, now we need to Double Make Sure the veil stays up because the evanuris have something even worse cooking up in the black city and we need to prevent them from unleashing a super blight and destroying all life, and our job is to convince solas to give up, not because we disagree with his plan but because his actions will have unintended consequences. even if he doesn’t care about everyone else and wants to rebuild the world, he won’t even be able to do THAT because the super blight will kill elves too. so although we WERE enemies we will have to band together to defeat the greater threat etc. it will be optional to recruit him as an ally/advisor, or you can just fight him directly and take control of his forces

we will have to cross into the fade AGAIN and storm the black city directly to put a stop to whatever’s going on in there