#badger writes

[roachs-pet-roach]

Ghost doing this thing where he gets nightmares and his first instinct is to go check on his team (siblings, family, yk the drill)

(doing ghostsoap, Nik x Price, & gaz x roach for this one)

Johnny is first.

He’s usually found in the Lieutenants bed, sprawled across his chest.

Ghost lays there and makes sure he’s breathing.

Gary is next.

He can be found either in the common room, squished behind the couch somewhere, or in Gaz’s bed.

Gaz is next.

He sleeps like the dead, so Ghost has stopped knocking on his door.

He just opens it quietly and watches him breathe for a minute.

Gary’s usually there, squished between Gaz and the mattress.

Gary likes to be squished.

Price is last.

not out of him being Ghost’s least favorite, just out of the fact that Ghost can’t actually comprehend something getting price.

Yes, he worries, but it’s not a tangible fear like it is with the sergeants.

Price is usually in his office, working, relaxing, or that one time Nik brought Vodka as a suprise.

Price pretends not to notice Ghost when he peeks in

If Price isn’t in his office then he’s in his room, asleep.

Sometimes Nik is there, sprawled over him in the master chief death pose.

They’re all used to seeing their lieutenant in their doorway for a minute,

nobody says anything.

sometimes johnny goes with ghost if it was really bad

[thehomelybadger]

Vertical slice of my Godfather AU (tentatively titled "This thing of ours"

basically, Caitlyn is the youngest of four children of Cassandra Kiramman, who is known as "The Dame" in Piltover. She's one of the five families that have controlling interests in Piltover's criminal underworld, and Caitlyn is something of a black sheep - going off to war with Noxus (called The Big One in the fic) instead of being a part of Cassandra's criminal empire. Vi is Caitlyn's bodyguard and Cassandra's triggerman (basically a soldier or a paid killer, depending on what the family needs), and has been since they were both kids. you see the vision - criminal empire AU with bodyguard pining.

the slice takes place roughly a third of the way through the fic. there was an attempt on Vi's life that Caitlyn got caught in the middle of, and Caitlyn had to carry Vi eight blocks to an ER nurse's apartment - Mel Medarda.

hope you enjoy, let me know what you think.

-------

To Sevika’s recollection, this was the most unkempt that Caitlyn Kiramman had ever been.

Her eyes were ringed with red from lack of sleep, she had a bandage plastered to the left side of her face - a shrapnel wound, Sevika had heard. Bullets that had smashed masonry in their attempt to end her and Vi’s life. She was using her cane again - and apparently she hadn’t touched it since she’d come back from The Big One with bullet scarring in her thigh and the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Sevika hadn’t spent a lot of time with Caitlyn. Sunny had been the daughter that Sevika had been charged with protecting, alongside other odd jobs that the Dame of the house had requested. The youngest daughter had been mostly Vi’s responsibility, and it was one that Vi had applied herself to with gusto.

Those early years were fading from her memory. She’d been doing this shit too long.

But Caitlyn still snapped upright when Sevika entered her room, cane at her side. She still nodded with that Kiramman grace - the grace that said she was in control, and that you had stepped into her world. Sevika had to admire that - the Dame had taught her youngest well.

“Ms. Kiramman,” Sevika nodded, pulling off her flat cap and crushing it in her good hand, “glad to see you up and about.”

“Same to you, Sawed-Off,” Caitlyn replied. Her voice was crystal clear. Her left hand held a bottle of brandy, and she raised it in question after a moment. At Sevika’s nod - grateful, because her fucking nerves were jangling in her stomach like Christmas bells and she was irritated about it - Caitlyn poured her three fingers, sat at her small table and gestured for Sevika to take a seat across from her.

Sevika closed the double doors to her room, sat across from her, and cupped her good hand around the brandy.

“I was surprised,” Caitlyn said, “when Jayce passed along that you wanted to speak to me. Even moreso when you requested that it be alone.”

Sevika nodded, sipped at her brandy. “It’s important.”

“I’ve gathered. Would you like to start at the beginning?”

Sevika lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you’d dance around it more.”

“The faster we finish with our business, the faster I can see how Vi’s doing at Mel’s. Forgive my speeding the process of negotiation along, some.”

Sevika snorted. “Negotiation.”

“All conversation is negotiation. Because you want something, and because you want it bad enough to come to me and not my sister, who is the current head of the organization and much more capable than I of dealing with what you want, I absolutely consider this a negotiation.”

Sevika swallowed the rest of her brandy in a single gulp, and Caitlyn was already pouring her more.

“I’ve never seen you nervous,” Caitlyn said.

“It’s not a common sight,” Sevika admitted, figuring it was useless to pretend. The youngest daughter was always perceptive. “If this is a negotiation, I’m entering on the backfoot. I hope what I’ve done for your mother, your family, negates that.”

“I’d never take advantage of you, Sawed-Off,” Caitlyn replied, gently, “tell me what you want.”

“It’s Sevika. Can you - can you call me Sevika?”

Caitlyn nodded. “Sevika.”

“It’s - you fucked up last night,” Sevika said, “you fucked up with Mel. You need to make it right.”

Caitlyn’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Excuse me?”

“Mel’s not in the game. She doesn’t have any skin in it. They tried to kill Vi, and now that you brought Vi there, then the Verazas - they’re going to see her as Kiramman aligned. You put her in danger.”

Caitlyn’s left brow lowered, leaving her looking skeptical. “Why would the Verazas care about an ER nurse taking care of a gunshot victim?”

“Nothing,” Sevika said, “but the men you left standing outside her door will cause questions.”

Caitlyn grunted in displeasure. “I told Sunny to put them inside, not display them. Damn it.”

“Sunny’s all about shows of force,” Sevika said, quietly, “she’ll think it makes us weak to hide our soldiers. She’s claiming Mel, whether she knows it or not, and that means Mel’s in a lot of trouble - a lot more than if Vi doesn’t pull through.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to her if Vi doesn’t make it,” Caitlyn said, softly.

“You say that now,” Sevika began, “but if Vi doesn’t-”

“Sevika,” Caitlyn said sharply, “I don’t break promises. She has my word, and since it matters to you, you do too.”

Sevika exhaled lightly. “The Verazas won’t care, though.”

“We can fix it,” Caitlyn mused, tapping her thumbs, “Sunny probably didn’t tell the door-men what they were protecting. Mother would’ve told her to keep it separated. Who did she send?”

“Pistol and Lo-Jack.”

Caitlyn hummed. “Then they know nothing. I’ll fix this - leave it to me. Do you have a recommendation as to who you’d prefer guarding her?”

Sevika watched Caitlyn for a few beats. “Yeah,” she said, softly, “yeah, one.”

Caitlyn sighed, smoothed her fingers along the edge of the tabletop. “This matters to you,” Caitlyn said, “it matters a great deal. Why?”

Sevika opened her mouth, closed it, shrugged. “She’s not in the game.”

“Neither was Seraphine’s producer,” Caitlyn pointed out, “and you got the name Sawed-Off after that job. Why the distinction now?”

“There’s not much of one,” Sevika said, “not really.”

“You must think me an idiot to swallow that,” Caitlyn said. “I thought you had more respect for my intelligence.”

Sevika ran her bad hand along her jaw, the prosthetic cool against her face. “It isn’t enough that she’s an innocent, that she’s not in the game?”

“Once, it would’ve been,” Caitlyn said, not unkindly, “but when the most dangerous triggerman in my mother’s organization comes to me and wants to be removed from my sister’s protection detail to sit in the apartment of a nurse, then yes. It matters.”

This was Dame Kiramman’s daughter, Sevika said, and couldn’t hide something akin to a proud smile from leaking through her lips. Sunny was certainly as tough as Cassandra, and Mira had the natural charm that Cassandra had displayed when she was up and coming, but Caitlyn had the steel silk, the flinty eyes, the commanding voice.

If Sunny wasn’t careful, Caitlyn could steal this whole thing - if she wanted it.

Sunny should be very grateful that Caitlyn didn’t.

“More,” Caitlyn continued, “I know the reason already - but I want you to say it to me.”

And now Sevika hated her.

“You know the reason,” Sevika repeated, incredulous.

Caitlyn nodded, sipped her brandy, swallowed. 

“How long have you been seeing this nurse, Sevika?”

Sevika grunted, rose abruptly, smashed her flat cap on her head. “I’ll find a way to do it myself. Fuck this. I’ll take vacation time.”

“Not on the eve of a war you won’t,” Caitlyn said, “Sevika, sit down.”

“I don’t need to take shit from you. I don’t take shit from anyone. You’re the youngest fucking daughter - fourth in line to take the reigns. Scared little war hero playing at being the big Mafia boss.”

“All true,” Caitlyn replied, “you’re still going to sit down.”

“Why should I?” Sevika snarled, “I’m not going to sit there and have a fucking kid go through my affairs like it’s her business.”

“Because I’ll help you,” Caitlyn said, calm, relaxed, “and you’ll get everything you want - but you need to sit down, and you need to listen.”

Sevika thought of Mel - of her fucked up apartment, of her crime lord mother and all the things at stake. She thought of her alone in that apartment, with two dumb goons on her doorstep which may as well have been a sign that said Someone Important Is Here on it to any of the many Kiramman family enemies.

She thought of her, and so she sat.

“You don’t trust Sunny to protect Mel properly,” Caitlyn said, “I don’t trust Sunny to protect Vi, and we both don’t trust Peter and Max to protect them against Veraza interests. We don’t want Sunny finding out about your relationship with Mel, and we’d much rather have you in that building, protecting both of them. Have I summarised effectively?”

“There’s no relationship between me and Mel,” Sevika said, stubborn and stupid and in fucking love.

“Yes, of course,” Caitlyn replied, waving that away. “I’ll fix this for you. No favours owed. I want to - for everything you’ve done for this family, for my mother, my cousins - you deserve to be happy. Your people are our people.”

Sevika grunted. “My usefulness to your mom was that I had no people.”

“Everyone has people,” Caitlyn soothed, “that’s what makes us human. I’ll fix this for you. Go to her, and if you don’t mind - call the house from an outside line when you can, let me know how Vi is. I imagine I’ll be too busy to check on her today.”

Sevika stared. “I can do that.”

“Good.”

“How, exactly, are you going to fix this for me?” Sevika asked.

“I’ll tell Sunny you’re working on something for me that’s taken you out of the city for a week. Enough time for us to be sure about Vi either way, and then move Vi and Mel if needed. We won’t leave her out in the cold.”

“Sunny won’t like that,” Sevika said.

“No,” Caitlyn replied, and Sevika saw the silk steel flash, “I imagine she won’t.”

Sevika exhaled, thought for a moment. “Be sure about Vi either way. You don’t seem all that broken up that your bodyguard got shot up.”

“She’s a good bodyguard,” Caitlyn replied, “it would be a shame to lose her. The sooner I have news, the sooner I can select a replacement - no offense, but you’re a little long in the tooth for my needs.”

Sevika chuckled. “Right. You know, I used to think you two were sweet on each other. I guess I was wrong.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Caitlyn replied, patting Sevika’s hand, “most did. It’s natural when two single and healthy individuals spend such a long amount of time together to speculate. She’s a loyal person and my mother owes her a great debt, from my point of view. It would be a shame if she never got to collect.”

“You’re a pretty cold person, aren’t you,” Sevika said, watching her.

“When I need to be,” Caitlyn replied, “you’re wasting time. Go to Mel’s, send Peter and Max home - that’ll mollify Sunny some.”

Sevika watched Caitlyn, watched the prim and proper Mafia princess - silk steel over her features. She thought about the way Caitlyn shrugged off her relationship with Vi, thought about her own inability to do that with Mel. Thought about Vi’s lost puppy look whenever Caitlyn entertained a suitor, the hardness that had stolen over Vi when Caitlyn went to The Big One, served and got shot and fought for her country.

Caitlyn might not care, Sevika thought, but Vi sure did.

She hated having shit in common with the young pup.

“Alright, kid,” Sevika said, pushing herself to her feet. “Thanks.”

Caitlyn raised a glass in salute. When Sevika closed the doors behind her, Caitlyn was up and moving to her window, cane thumping rapidly. She didn’t move until Sevika was in her car, driving towards the gate of the estate, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs.

As soon as the gate opened and Sevika’s black car was around the corner, Caitlyn sat down on her bed - right next to the phone.

She put her cane between her legs, rested her hands upon it, and waited.

[leapingbadger]

Boom! - Chapter 10 - Contained

Summary: Tech and Wrecker work to unlock the mysteries of the separatist bombs while Hunter and Crosshair come up with a plan of their own.

Read on AO3

Crosshair lingered outside the medical tent in his new blacks. The flap was still propped open, giving his exceptional eyes the perfect sightline.

All the wounded troopers they had seen when they arrived had been relocated, the only occupant inside now was Eros, trapped within a bubble-like contraption, presumably to protect the outside world from whatever chemical composition had been blasted in his face. A trooper in hazmat gear took a decontamination shower as he exited before joining the others lingering outside the bubble.

“Any news?” Hunter’s gravelly voice said from behind. Like Crosshair, he wore a new pair of blacks. His wet hair hung languidly over his bandana, the humidity of the planet causing loose curls to form.

All troopers who had been in the vicinity had been taken outside the base for a thorough examination. Wrecker was still there. As he was in the barracks during the explosion they were keeping him under observation overnight.

“Nothing yet. I told Wrecker he’s alive. That’s the best I can do.”

Hunter put his hand on Crosshair shoulder, “that’s something at least. He was getting anxious, not knowing.”

The stars were bright overhead, twinkling in the blood red sky despite the light from the base.

“We shouldn’t’ be here, Hunter. It’s not our problem to fix.” Crosshair felt his words hang in the air as Hunter’s eyes fixed on the trooper in the bubble.

“It’s personal now.” He said at last.

“To you?” Crosshair asked, his eyebrows raised. His brother may be more even tempered than the rest of them, but he didn’t feel any sense of loyalty to the regs.

“To wrecker. He won’t let it go.” Hunter said with a sigh.

“Wrecker can barely walk.”

“I know.” His brother said his eyes were still fixed ahead. “I think I have an idea. But you’re not gunna like it.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, “do I ever?”

Hunter laughed and bumped his shoulder, “I suppose not.”

“It’s a stupid idea. Isn’t it?” Crosshair asked, reveling in the ability to annoy his big brother.

“Oh yeah, probably one of my worst.”

“That’s not saying much,” Crosshair continued, hoping he could continue bating him and avoid learning of the plan.

Hunter laughed again and clapped him on the back again. “Keep that sense of humor, Cross. You’re gunna need it.”

“Now you gotta remove it from the casing.”

Tech sighed, “I have already done that, Wrecker,” he snapped.

“Well how am I supposed to see that when I’m in this kriffin’ bubble?” he spat back.

The bruiser sat on a makeshift bed, his regulation blacks pulled up to his waist but unable to surpass his chest and arms. The bright red scarring on his left side was a constant reminder to Tech of how close they had come to losing their brother, and he wished he didn’t have to look at it.

Tech was propped up outside the secure bubble, a table set up so he and his brother could disassemble the smoke bomb from a few weeks ago and see if there was something they had missed.

Wrecker could have done this on his own, but in his weakened state and being under observation, this was the best they could do.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing a sausage like finger at the bubble surrounding him, “angle it this way so I can see.”

Tech manipulated the piece of metal and adjusted the small desk light in the hopes of making it easier for his brother to see through the shield.

“There’s a little indent inside…” Wrecker paused to cough, a deep bark that Tech hadn’t heard from him before. “Get a tool in there and lift up. I think it’s a plate covering something.”

Tech paused and watched his brother’s chest rise and fall, a gentle wheeze emanating from his throat as he breathed.

“Are you quite sure you feel alright, Wrecker?”

“I’m fine,” he said, coughing again, “use that and try and pull the two pieces apart.”

Tech turned the cylinder to look inside. There was a small notch in the bottom of the shell that looked like a scratch from a machine. Likely when the device was built. But regardless, Tech did as he was told.

He inserted a long, thin metal pick with a minuscule notch at the top. He took a breath to steady his hand.

“Careful,” Wrecker said slowly.

“I am aware.” Tech said haughtily. He took another breath and connected the pick with the notch and pulled.

With a ringing ting sound a thin metal disk popped out, revealing a glass cylinder containing a white, powdered substance.

“Well, I’ll be. I think we have it.” He said, removing the circular metal and showing the shaft to his brother.

“Haha, I knew it.” He said triumphantly before dissolving into a coughing fit.

Tech put the cylinder down gently and walked around the table, so he was next to the bubble containing his brother.

“You are not sounding well. Are you sure you don’t require some assistance?”

Wrecker continued to cough as he shook his head. “nahh, I’m fine I just…” he coughed into his hand, pulling it away to reveal and foaming white substance.

Tech’s eyes went wide. “Wrecker. You need to lie down. I’ll call the medics.”

“I’m fine,” the bruiser said again, but he did was he was told and laid down on the bunk, his body all but collapsed into it.

“Hunter. Crosshair. I need you back here now.”

Wrecker’s chest was heaving with the effort of breathing by the time Hunter and Crosshair returned a few short minutes later.

“What’s happening? Where’s the medic?” Hunter asked, looking around.

“They are apparently all with Eros who is…” he looked at Wrecker before turning away and lowering his voice, “…not doing well.”

“But Wrecker needs help now.” Hunter shouted, his eyes wide in panic. “Tech, his heartbeat is too fast, his breathing spotty. We need to get in there.”

The bruiser’s eyes fluttered closed as his face changed into a painful grimace.

“Then I will go.” Tech said, following his brother’s gaze to Wrecker.

“Tech,” Hunter said exasperatedly.

“It makes no logical sense for us all to become exposed.” He picked up his tool belt off the desk, his pack and whatever medical supplied he could carry and made his way through the safety doors and into the quarantine area.

Hunter and Crosshair were pressed as close as they could be to the outside of the bubble, their faces anxious as Wrecker started to twitch and convulse.

“Tech, roll him.”

Tech rolled the bruiser onto his side with a grunt.

“Can you hear me?” he asked into the comm.

“Yeah, we’ve got you.” Hunter responded.

The shuddering had stopped. Tech checked his airway and opened his jaw, letting more white foam seep out of his mouth and down his cheek. He looked at his brothers, alarmed and shook his head. If Wrecker was afflicted as Eros was, their timeline to help him was closing rapidly.

“Talk to me Tech. How’s he looking?” Hunter’s tense voice sounded over the comm.

“His heart rate is returning to normal, although I imagine you already know that. But his breathing is still erratic. I can’t safely mask him with the risk of the discharge making him choke. I will keep him on his side until that stops. However, is he does struggle to breath I will have no choice but the intervene.”

“Understood,” Hunter said.

Tech spared a quick glance at his brother. His hand was pressed against the outside of the bubble. He likely didn’t even know he was doing it. Hunter was so used to being in control, having no ability to help in a situation like this was akin to his worst nightmare.

When the medics finally showed up, it was clear they did not anticipate the hostile welcome.

“Hey, he can’t be in there.” One of the regs said, suited in full protective gear while the other moved to the hatch to try and coax Tech out.

“Where the kriff were you?” Crosshair spat, “he saved his life.” He said, jerking a long finger to Tech who was injecting Wrecker with something in his neck.

“Cross,” Hunter said as a warning, his low voice.

“No,” Crosshair said, shaking off Hunter’s hand on his shoulder, “this is your fault.” He said, jerking a finger aggressively at the Reg’s chest.

Tech watched the commotion with mild interest but wouldn’t really hear what was being discussed, although given Crosshair’s outward aggression it likely had something to do with his current predicament.

“Well, he has to stay in there now too.” The reg said.

“Yeah, no shit.” Hunter growled as he turned back to his brothers in the bubble.

Wrecker’s breathing had improved slightly under Tech’s care. He was able to roll him onto his back and watched trepidatiously as his eyes fluttered open once more.

“Wrecker, how do you feel?”

The bruiser coughed, a deep rattling sound. “I’m alright.” He said, starting to sit up.

Tech placed a firm hand on his shoulder and held him in place. “Stay put.”

The bruiser nodded and sank his head back into the bed. He followed Tech with his eyes as he walked over to Hunter.

“He has come around but will likely get worse if we don’t discover the pathogen in the bombs.”

Hunter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes tracking to Wrecker. “I’m not sure how much more Wrecker can take. He’s still recovering from the explosion.”

“Agreed. We must be fast if we hope to get ahead of this. We were able to discover where the compartment containing the substance was located,” he jerked his finger to the bomb pieces still scattered on the table.

Hunter gingerly picked is up, peeking inside, “How do we get it out? And who’s gunna test it if you’re stuck in there?”

Tech sighed and adjusted his goggles. “Unfortunately, we will need to send it to a Republic lab for analysis.”

“How longs that gunna take?” Crosshair hissed as he joined the conversation.

“I am sure given the risk they would make it a top priority. Especially as I am not equipped to assist at this stage. If you leave now, you should…”

“We’re not leaving you here,” Hunter said with a side glance at Crosshair.

“Hunter, I understand your…”

“It’s not happening, Tech. We’ll let a Reg take the sample.”

Tech hesitated, knowing that look in his brother’s eyes. “And what will you do.”

“We’ve got a mission of our own.” He said grimly.

[roachs-pet-roach]

Simon was exhausted. His eyelids grew heavier by the minute and his muscles had started to shake sometime during the exfil.

A hand made it’s way into his own. Johnny gently rubbing his thumb on the back of Simons hand.

The second they got back to base he grabbed Johnny by the arm and practically dragged him to his barracks.

The door was shut and locked, tactical gear hastily shoved off.

Vests and boots remained on as the teo crashed onto the bed, tired muscles getting a reprieve, eyes closing momentarily.

“Tired are we?” Johnny laughed as Simon grunted and his boyfriend worming his way into his lap in response.

“alrigh lad” Johnny laughed, tugging Simon’s mask off and tucking Simon’s head under his chin. a leg tossed over Simon’s own, arms wrapped around him.

Simons hands clung to the back if his shirt, like a small child would.

A gentle kiss pressed to Simon’s hair lulled the man into sleep, muscles relaxing against Johnny.

Eyelids closed, sleep overtaking the two soldiers quickly.

Two soldiers wound together in a reprive from their lives, just enjoying the warmth of each other and the comfort of sleep

Post-mission Nap

[roachs-pet-roach]

i think the 141 just treats simon like a creature sometimes

“he’s in his box” - Johnny, referring to Simon sleeping in his room

“You’re UPSETTING him” - Gary, as Soap keeps poking him

“we have to keep him in a box at a perfect temperature or he gets cranky” - Price, explaining why Simon is so particular about the temperature things are (he’s just got a touch of the ‘tism)

“he’s getting his enrichment :D” - Gary, as Simon beats a recruit

Simon is fully aware of this and has no complaints.

[thehomelybadger]

Got into pwhl because of ratc. Tiktok kept showing me carly jackson edits so now i can't stop fancasting her as vi even though she's a goalie.

You're so fucking real for this, anon. Carly Jackson does give Vi coded

[thehomelybadger]

everyone seems to have already written one of these, so here's my version:

I going to hell and you’re all coming with me

[mischievous-thunder]

Meanwhile Wade:

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[kawaiiwritingcomputer]

sonic characters when they have a crush on you || headcanons

Sonic 🍄

Sonic is the “doesn’t make it too obvious” king of guy. You give him something, he takes it with grace and a simple thank you and nothing more but behind closed doors he admires it. He holds everything and anything you give him or do for him dearly. His love language is gift giving but makes it seem like it was nothing.

“Oh yeah this old thing? No worries, just had to get rid of it anyway.” Meanwhile he totally thought of you and what you had mentioned. He’s the kind of hedgehog that can’t go too long without your attention without feeling weirdly huffy but refuses to admit he had a crush on you!

“Has anyone seen (Y/N)? I’m gonna go check on them.” Yeah. He totally doesn’t have a crush.

Tails 🍄

Tails makes his crush totally obvious. He’s inventing you things saying you might need them. Tails explain it thoroughly so you’re always well equipped and know what to do! He’s always looking for you everywhere just in case… Just in case what? Well, for just in case. Tails gets a little nervous that you might not like him back so he tries to overcompensate as a true friend! He’s so easy to fluster. He laughs at everything you say! Even if it’s not funny sometimes. Tails listens to every detail of your life and closely pays attention. Tails loves you so much to the point he’ll create anything for you!

Knuckles 🪼

The echidna will treat you with the respect he gives any other, overall being a kind person. He wouldn’t know what do to with himself, caught in your flames of love. He thinks of you often, yearning to have you in a hug. He’s so strong,, but not strong enough to deny these feelings. He is bad with hints, and to be honest he’s rather blunt.

“Y/N, here are these flowers I picked for you; and also some grapes! I think you are beautiful/attractive, and I would like to court you on a date!” He’s so serious, it’s very silly but you think it’s endearing and sweet. He’ll try to impress you and make a fool out of himself, eventually winning you over in the end because he’s such a silly cute guy and he makes you laugh.

shadow 🪼

He pretends like his feelings don’t exist, for as long as he can stand it. Damn, you’re just so cute, doing your own thing and enjoying every moment of it. You’ll try to drag him along somewhere for fun, and he’ll pretend he hates it but he’s loving every minute with you. He doesn’t make eye contact with you and he seems to be blushing a lot. He’ll only start to open up to you in private moments.

Shadow will show you small physical affections, like an awkward hug or simply trying to hold your hand. If you seem even a little bit off he will pull away, fearing you may think of him as a monster. You’ll have to reassure him yourself and make some of your own moves. “You don’t think I’m,,, dangerous?” He’s scared of hurting you, he doesn’t want to lose something he loves,, have it ripped away from him again.

silver 🍄

Oh Silver. He’s so awkward and shy! He can conversate for sure but if you show too much interest with your pretty eyes he starts to shut down. Silver practically melts but tells himself he must keep strong. He doesn’t want to look weak to you. He has everything under control! Including his crush on you… Or so he thinks. He yaps about the future and his special interests to you. Silver isn’t a show off kind of guy but if he thinks something will impress you, he’ll try to impress you for sure! Even if it embarrasses himself. Anything to hear you laugh!

scourge 🪼

Scourge always gets what he wants, even if he has to take it. From the moment he set his eyes on you, he wasn’t gonna give up. He had to have you. You would look so good as royalty by his side, sitting atop a throne. He would shower you with gifts, anything even stuff you wouldn’t care for. You may be flattered, but he’s a bad boy. He’s trouble, a straight up red flag that’s erratically waving!! He would make any comment he could about you, often really lewd stuff. Obviously staring at you from beneath those flashy sunglasses. He does have a hidden gentlemanly vibe on the inside, though, when he’s fallen into your trap instead. He’s like a moth to a flame fr.

“Have anything ya want from me, please, just take my heart already! I can’t stand it, someone like you lookin’ so good, you should be mine! Come on, I ain’t as bad as everyone says!” His huge fanged grin says otherwise, but at least he’s trying to be honest about his feelings. You get to be royalty, and he may not seem like it but Scourge is a very loyal partner to you.

amy 🍄

Amy is sooo obvious about her crush with you. She’s daydream scenarios and sighing dreamily to herself. You can always feel her eyes on you, and even feel her smile from miles away. Amy reads her tarot cards about you weekly to see when the perfect day to confess is but she gets nervous. What if it ruins the friendship? She can’t stand the thought of not being anything at all! Amy makes you home made gifts as a token of her love. You say you want new earrings? She’s on it! You saw a cute blanket? She’s knitting away! You would have to be blind to not see her crush. Will you accept her feelings?

rouge 🍄

Rouge is hot and cold with you. Is she being nice or is she flirting? Is she being mean or is shy flirting? She’s also very touchy, in a sly innocent way. If you questioned her, she would just shrug innocently. “Ya had something on ya, I was just trying to help.” Rouges love language can be hard to pinpoint. She comes and goes when she pleases but she always makes sure to talk to you. She doesn’t gift you anything because she doesn’t buy anything but she might steal you something. Rouge is playing the long game with you, slowly working her way into your life completely. She just thinks it’s cute watching you get flustered.

sticks 🪼

Sticks is attached to you in an endearing way, and she likes to talk a lot, so hopefully you can keep up with her. She’s not a prize to be won, you have to earn her respect and show her comfort before trust. She’s been through a lot,, and will be glad to have someone to finally talk to and lean on! She would make you primitive looking gifts, or go hunting to bring you something. She feels like she needs to give you something to represent her feelings.

She is quite flirtatious, and it could be confused with her also just being friendly- because she talks without thinking a lot. She makes compliments on your appearance, offers to show you new things, and tends to be kinda handsy. “You n me get along so good, we might as well become partners!” She would remark, hoping you’ll get her hints.

blaze 🍄

Blaze is direct. She befriends you and talks to you a lot. She goes out of her to see you then will go see others. You’re like a soft and safe place for her. She’s got a cool exterior and she feels like when she’s with you, it can be dropped. She knows she can be quiet or talkative around you and you’ll gladly just show up for her. Her love language is quality time and sharing things!

belle 🪼

First thing about Belle, she’s gonna stand up for you in all situations. She is very reliable, and also super intelligent and interesting. She’s so cute, she would love having your company,, someone to chat with while fixing up inventions. She longs for a partnership, and a bond where she doesn’t get hurt in the end. She’s a little shy when it comes to her crush on you,, and you’ll notice she’ll be more nervous and blushy, words don’t seem to come out right and she’s scared of messing up!!

When it comes to how Belle would confess, she would try to make it fantasy line for you. A beautiful environment to look upon, stars in the sky, and she would make you something related to your interests as a gift,, to show you she cares and she has a heart even if she is made of wood and other materials. She would protect you with all of her power, and always try to keep you happy.

bonus: robotnik

What?! Feelings?? Ivo has never felt such things, in fact he would rather laugh!! There is no feeling, only knowing, he claims to believe, and being deemed as unwanted all of his life has only driven these thoughts in harder. In truth he’s honestly scared of emotion,, he doesn’t like the way things can hurt him,, he doesn’t like to care. Vengeance against that hedgehog and his friend is his motivation…. At least until you came along.

There had never been any processing,, if there was room for love in his life. He’d try to calculate it into his plans,, but such an unforeseen situation would have his mind scattered. He’s a lil stressed about it, and may give you harsher conditions to try and push it all away- but he realizes he feels bad about it. Remorseful, he’s gonna apologize to you and try to set you free, you’re better off without him. If you try to stay— well he wouldn’t know what to do, but would blindly accept the situation, and fess up to you. He will always put you first and would never judge you. He never realized before how badly he craves touch,, and someone to love.

[roachs-pet-roach]

so we think soap or roach or gaz has ever been fucking around and it went aomething like this

Roach: guys i like twinks

Gaz: so ghost?

Ghost: *whips his head up* H u H??

Soap: he’s just got a snatched waist

Ghost: *contemplating murder*

Roach: Where’s that waist? not here!

And price walked in on Ghost trying to simultaneously strangle Soap and Roach while Gaz is incapacitated from laughter on the floor

Sometimes I think I draw his body a lil bit TOO bulky and his waist a bit TOO tiny but then I SEE HIS CANON INGAME MODEL.

I am not okay

[silkoodles]

day 3 - Future

It's them in my crossover au which takes place in the future. Danny's in his 30s or so.

[sonicboomrevisited]

A Sonic Boom Revisited Short Story:

"I'll Be Home for Christmas"

Written by @mama-qwerty with editing and inspiration from @multiisketch

Art by @multiisketch

Colors by @star-stages and @multiisketch

NOTE: This story is NON-CANON to the SBR comic itself and is purely for holiday fun! Please Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twas the morning before Christmas and all through the lair, not a creature was stirring, not even–

"An eclair!" Cubot said, in an enthusiastic mood.

Orbot protested. "An elcair's not a creature, it's food!"

"Exactly!” said Cubot, hands on his hips. “That's why it ain't stirrin!"

Orbot scoffed. “Oh enough with your quips.”

The stockings were hung by the exhaust port with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be–

"Married!" Cubot shouted, sounding quite proud.

"Santa’s already married, for crying out loud.” Orbot sighed and shook his head in frustration. “Can you please be quiet and allow the narration?”

Quite. Anyway... the robots were nestled and charging in stations, while visions of sugar plums danc’d in their processing units.

"Hey," Cubot said, the word dragging out long. “Those words don’t rhyme, you’re doing it wrong!"

Rhyming is hard, and not something that’s forced. So you’ll deal with my attempts, for better or worst.

The robots went silent, exchanging a look. It always seemed easy when reading the book. They returned to the tinsel hanging duties assigned, when in walked the dastardly Robo-Sonic, his boss close behind.

"I just don't understand, truly at all, why those rodents won’t fight!" said Dr. Eggman, standing tall.

“Because they’re losers who know they won’t win,” Robo-Sonic said, his voice confident, and edged with a grin. “Seriously, Boss, it’s the smartest thing they’ve done. Why would they fight when they know that we’ve won?”

“It’s the principle!” Eggman shouted, his hands clenched in fists. “If they won’t fight, then I won’t . . . won’t . . .”

He threw his hands up. “Ya know what? I’m not doing this rhyming thing. Nope.”

But–

“NO.” Eggman crossed his arms, his lips pulled into a tight line.

How are we gonna tell a Christmas story without that well known rhyming couplet setup?

“Much better, because we won’t be locked into short little oddly worded sentences for the sake of rhyming.”

Ouch.

“Go on,” Eggman said, giving his hand a dismissive flick. “Just let it flow naturally.”

Fine.

“Oh come now, don’t pout.”

I’m not pouting.

“Then go ‘not pout’ somewhere else so we can get on with things.”

“Geez, Boss,” Cubot said, shaking his head. “That’s not very Christmas-y.”

“Quiet down, you imbecile, or I’ll remove your head.”

“That rhymed,” Orbot said with a shrug. “Although you technically rhymed ‘head’ with ‘head’.”

“Nevermind!” Eggman said, moving to his console and flicking some switches. The monitor along the back wall flared to life and scenes from the village dominated the screen. “As I was saying, if those rodents won’t fight me, I won’t get a good workout for my various inventions.”

Robo-Sonic turned to him. “So?”

“So, fighting so-called heroes is the best way for villains to work the kinks out of their dastardly plans and evil robots. It’s the first thing they teach you in villain college.” He turned suddenly, his voice edged with defensive anger. “Which I totally graduated from, thank you very much.”

Robo-Sonic flicked his ocular LEDs toward the ceiling. “Okay, so why won’t they fight? Other than the obvious reason that they’ll lose, I mean.”

Eggman tapped a few places on his control panel and twisted a dial. “I don’t know. But we’ll find out soon enough.

The screen flickered and centered on Meh Burger where Amy, Tails, Knuckles, and Sticks sat at a table.

“Are we still going to your place for Christmas Eve, Amy?” Tails asked. He poked at his burger. “It may be a good way to take our minds off . . . you know.”

“The fact that Sonic’s been turned into a glorified Eggman bot who hates us and wants to pound us into the dirt?” Knuckles asked, his voice low and frustrated. The others looked at him, their expressions a combination of annoyed and hurt. “What? I’m just summing it up in case you forgot.”

“We didn’t.” Tails’ ears flicked backward, and he looked away.

Knuckles seemed to sense he’d really stepped in it, and turned his attention back to his half-eaten burger. He let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Right. Right. Sorry.”

“I don’t know if I should bother this year. It won’t be the same without Sonic,” Amy said, pushing her burger away and resting her crossed arms on the table. “We always baked cookies together.” A little smile curled her lips. “When he wasn’t trying to eat the batter, that is.”

“We’d always make popcorn strands,” Knuckles said, shaking his head with a smile. “That was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah.” Tails pushed his burger away, fiddling with his gloves. “We would trim the tree together. The lights were always my favorite part, and every year we’d fight over who put the star on top.” His ears flicked back. “This year was his turn.”

Silence fell over the group. Sticks looked between the others.

“Well I say we don’t let this get us down!” she said, pounding her fists on the table. “I say we get together and have the best Christmas Eve ever! We’ll show that Eggman and his new little robot henchman that they can’t stifle our spirits!”

She turned directly toward the camera filming them and shook her fist.

“YA HEAR THAT, YOU BIG CLOD! WE AIN’T BENDING!”

In the lair, Eggman let out a little yelp before cutting the feed, the screen going black. “That badger’s pretty astute for someone who thinks her doorknobs are alien spies.”

“Who’s she calling a henchman?” Robo-Sonic said, hands clenching into fists.

Eggman absently rubbed his chin with a hand. “Quiet, you.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Eggman’s brow furrowed slightly as he paced back and forth before the console. “Hmm . . . so the rodents are feeling all sad because their little blue rat is now my number two. That sadness is preventing them from really bringing their A-game during battles with me.”

“Perhaps you could offer to return Robo-Sonic to them for Christmas Eve,” Orbot suggested, hovering closer. “That way they can feel more motivated to fight when next you appear.”

Eggman whirled on him. “Are you insane? You’re suggesting I simply give Robo-Sonic over to those insipid rodents? All because they miss him so much?”

Orbot flinched back, as Robo-Sonic looked on, shaking his head.

“Oh, I know!” Eggman said, holding a finger up. “Maybe I’ll be a gracious arch-nemesis and offer to let Robo-Sonic fraternise with them for Christmas Eve, just to refuel the hope of getting their friend back and reignite that fighting spirit, before dashing their misplaced hopes to bits during my next attack! Ho ho, that is brilliant!”

“Yes, sir, very clever,” Orbot said with a sigh.

“Hey now,” Robo-Sonic said, hands on hips. “Who says I want to go back and ‘fraternise’ with those losers?”

Eggman turned to him, brows furrowed. “You’ll go and you’ll play nice. Because while you’re there you’re going to collect any information you can on weaknesses–other than you, of course–or soft spots I can use to my advantage in future battles.”

Robo-Sonic threw his hands up in exasperation. “But I already know their weaknesses and soft spots! I can tell you that right now!”

Eggman held up a hand. “Upp upp upp! Everyone knows that Christmas is when people show their softer sides and reveal hidden thoughts and desires no one knows the rest of the year. It goes hand in hand with Christmas miracles, holiday spirit and putting differences aside to show that not everyone’s all bad and all that touchy feely stuff.”

The doctor went to his desk, yanked open a drawer, and fished around for a moment before pulling out a crumpled card. He scribbled something inside, stuffed it into an envelope, and stepped over to slap it onto Robo-Sonic’s hands.

“There you are,” he said, patting the robot on the top of his rocket booster. “Off you go. Spread holiday cheer with your ex-friends, and then come back here and dish on the gossip you learn.”

Robo-Sonic heaved the robot equivalent of a sigh, before turning and heading toward the door.

“OH WAIT!”

He turned back to see Eggman digging through another drawer, before pulling something out and rushing over to him. The doctor slapped a gift sticker right above Robo-Sonic’s visor and adjusted a Santa hat on top of his head.

“There!” Eggman said, stepping back and perching his hands on his hips. “Ooh, you look so festive!” He waved in a dismissive manner. “Okay, get outta here. Go be merry and trim the tinsel and ginger the bread or whatever it is you people do during the holidays. Shoo!”

With an electronic groan, Robo-Sonic turned and drudged away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screams drew Amy from her book, and she hurried out of her house, hammer in hand. The chatter from her communicator indicated the others were on their way to investigate the trouble, too.

She hoped it wasn’t Eggman. While she never liked fighting Eggman in the past, at least it had been a little fun. Now it was painful. Seeing what the man had done to Sonic hurt her heart. And she couldn’t bring herself to hurt him, even if he was a robot now, and had no qualms on hurting them.

And, based on how lackluster the fights were when Eggman did attack, the others felt the same way.

As she neared the center of the village–seriously, everything always seemed to happen right in the middle of town–she found the chaos somewhat comforting. It was familiar and a good fight with the Lightning Bolt Society, or Barker, or even Shadow may help dissipate some of the anxiety that had twisted her stomach since Sonic changed.

When the fleeing villagers scattered, she skidded to a halt.

Sonic was standing in the middle of the town, arms crossed, and wearing a . . . Santa hat?

A quick flick of her eyes caught no sign of Eggman himself or any other attacking robots. Sonic–Robo-Sonic, she reminded herself–stood with his back to her, tapping his foot in that familiar impatient way that always made him look like he was waiting for a bus that was fifteen minutes late.

“Amy!”

Knuckles’ voice called out. Both she and Robo-Sonic turned to see him rushing over to her. He stopped a step in front of her, taking up a defensive stance, fists at the ready.

“Where’s Eggman?” the echidna asked, his brow furrowed and voice uncharacteristically serious. He didn’t like fighting Son–ROBO-Sonic any more than Amy did, and preferred to head straight for the doctor when attacks happened.

The quicker they took out the doc, the quicker he retreated and took the robot version of their friend with him.

“I don’t know,” she said, gripping her hammer tightly. “All I see is him.”

Tails and Sticks arrived soon after, each wearing similar expressions of confusion.

“This isn’t like Eggman,” Tails said, holding his wrench before him like a staff. “He doesn’t usually send robots without being there himself to gloat and claim early victories.”

“Finally,” Robo-Sonic said, rolling his head back in a familiar expression of exasperation. “You’re all here. Cripes, take a little longer, why don’tcha. It’s not like I can die of old age or anything.”

“What do you want?” Knuckles all but growled, baring his fangs. “It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t you take the holidays off from being a jerk?”

Robo-Sonic mostly ignored him and stalked forward. Knuckles threw an arm out, keeping Amy back. When the robot hedgehog stopped before them, he reached into his metal quills and pulled out an envelope. He thrust it forward, toward Amy, and Knuckles tensed.

Everything seemed to stop in that moment. Amy flicked her eyes from Robo-Sonic’s ocular visor, to the little gift sticker attached to his forehead, right below the brim of the Santa hat. Instead of a “To” and “From” note, it bore Eggman’s logo, as if he’d branded the robot before sending him to the village.

Her eyes then dropped to the envelope in his hand. When she made no move to reach for it, Robo-Sonic uttered what sounded like a sigh.

“Just take it, Ames.”

She flinched at the familiar nickname coming from a digital voice box. After a moment, she gently pushed Knuckles’ arm to the side, and plucked the envelope from Robo-Sonic’s hand. Keeping her eyes on the robotic hedgehog, she tore it open, before looking down as she pulled a battered card from the paper.

The front showed an image of Eggman dressed in a Santa suit, Cubot and Orbot beside him with little antlers on their heads. He had a large sack thrown over his shoulder. Above him read “Evil Season’s Greetings!”

She rolled her eyes.

Inside, she found a handwritten note, undoubtedly from Eggman himself.

"Dear Rodents, 

Since you insist on being frustratingly avoidant when fighting my newest bestie Robo-Sonic, I have deemed it acceptable to allow him to be returned to you for 24 hours. Make it count and bring your A-Game to the next fight! Happy Holidays! 

Love, Dr. Eggman."

Amy reread the note three times, before flicking her eyes back up to Robo-Sonic. He stood with his arms crossed and he, and Knuckles who also stood with his arms crossed, seemed to be having a glaring contest.

“So, wait,” she said, drawing their attention. “You’re here to spend Christmas Eve with us?”

Robo-Sonic heaved an electronic sigh. “Apparently.”

Amy exchanged a look with Tails.

“You don’t actually expect us to believe this, do you?” the fox said, hands on hips. “Like we’re supposed to just throw our arms open and pretend like everything’s normal?”

“I think he’s here to spy on us,” Sticks said, eyes narrowed and flicking back and forth. “He’s here to discover our deepest secrets, our hidden hopes and dreams!”

“Not my eggnog recipe!” Knuckles cried, hands to the side of his head.

“Knuckles, that’s just milk and eggs, mostly,” Amy said with a sigh.

He cast her a raised eyebrow. “Eggs?”

“Nevermind.”

“Look,” Robo-Sonic said, holding his hands up. “As stimulating as this conversation is, I don’t wanna be here any more than you want me here. But the boss said you get me for 24 hours and the clock’s ticking, so, whatever you wanna do with that time is on your head. If you want to just stand here and argue about it, be my guest.”

The group exchanged looks again. Amy gave him a tight little smile.

“‘Scuse us for a minute.”

She motioned for the others to follow her a few feet away, and lowered into a huddle.

“This is a trick,” Knuckles said, looking over his shoulder toward Robo-Sonic. “No way he’s not here for evil reasons.”

“I hate to admit it, but I agree,” Tails said, shaking his head. “Sonic’s not our friend anymore. As much as I want to believe he’s here because he wants to be, I think this is some kind of trap.”

“Of course it’s a trap!” Sticks said, gripping her boomerang tightly. “It’s obvious he’s here to steal our Christmas spirit, and maybe even all our decorations and presents and even our last can of Who Hash!”

Tails gave her a raised eyebrow. “Our what?”

“Nothin’.” Sticks narrowed her eyes, looking around suspiciously. “I’ve said too much.”

“Okay, look,” Amy said, drawing their attention. “I don’t think he’s here of his own free will either. But maybe we can use this to our advantage. If we do things we used to do with Sonic on past Christmases, maybe he’ll remember who he really is and come back to us!”

Tails shot a look over at Robo-Sonic, who was giving the evil eye . . . well, evil LED to any villagers who came too near. “I dunno, Amy . . .”

“C’mon Tails, we have to try.”

The others looked at her before exchanging a glance between themselves. Finally, they turned back and nodded. Although, they didn’t look very happy or sure about it.

She didn’t care. If there was a chance to get her . . . their Sonic back, she’d take it. As slim as it was.

She nodded back, before standing upright and moving toward the robot hedgehog once again. Knuckles was right next to her. She could feel how tense he was.

“Okay, Son–I mean, Robo-Sonic,” she said, stopping with her hands on her hips. “If you’re gonna be here, there are going to be a few rules.” She counted off on her fingers. “Rule number one, no fighting. Rule number two, no insulting us. Rule number three, you have to actually participate and not simply sit and sulk the whole time.”

His ocular LEDs narrowed for a moment. “And if I refuse these stupid rules?”

Amy shrugged. “Then we’ll just send you back to Eggman’s. You’ll have failed your mission and ruined Christmas for your new ‘boss’.”

He stood and glared at her for a long moment, before rolling his head to the side. “Fine.”

A smile curled her lips. “Good.” She clapped her hands together, giving a little squeal of excitement. “Oh, this will be fun!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was not, in fact, ‘fun’.

It had been hours. Hours of trying to have a normal Christmas Eve.

They’d all gathered at Amy’s house, as they did every year. She hadn’t been in a very festive mood after everything that had happened with Sonic, so the house wasn’t as decorated as she normally did. Knuckles and Sticks had helped pull her decorations out of storage, working to create a more appropriate holiday atmosphere, as Tails set about trimming the tree.

Supper was awkward. She’d made everyone’s favorite. Even the sweet potato chili dogs Sonic liked. But, being a robot now, he couldn’t eat them.

Okay, no problem, she could work around that.

But he spent the entire time glaring at Knuckles, who glared right back. Amy had shot the echidna a warning glance, and he’d sheepishly turned his eyes away, but the mood had been set.

After supper, she cleaned up the dishes as Tails helped Knuckles make popcorn for this year’s garlands. With a little coaxing, Amy had encouraged Knuckles to try and follow his tradition with Robo-Sonic.

It didn’t go well.

Robo-Sonic couldn’t string the popcorn before his metal fingers crushed the kernels. After five minutes, the floor around him was littered with broken bits of popcorn. Knuckles, for his part, tried to extend a hand of friendship, so to speak, citing that he knew what it was like to deal with more strength than you need most of the time. He tried to help Robo-Sonic pull it back so he could work with the popcorn without crushing it.

Things only went further south when Robo-Sonic revealed, in a fit of frustration stemming from the continued crunching of the kernels, that he never liked making the garlands–a waste of perfectly good popcorn, he claimed–and only did it so Knuckles wouldn’t look like an idiot doing it by himself.

The echidna gasped, eyes wide, before running from the room in tears. “Not cool, Robo-Sonic!”

Sticks fared a little better. She was always suspicious of wrapped presents–”You don’t know what’s inside! It’s not safe!”--so Robo-Sonic used his scanners to examine every one. He announced, loudly, what each box contained. This soothed the badger’s suspicions, until he announced what the gifts she’d brought held.

“Those boxes were supposed to be lead lined! X-ray proof! So’s the aliens couldn’t see what I got and report my preferences and kindness to their leaders, taking me hostage when they come to rule!”

And off she went, presumably to find whomever had sold her the supposedly impervious boxes, and deal some angry feral badger damage to them.

Tails was hit worst. He had brought the tree decorations, and hoped to have his and Sonic’s tradition at least somewhat salvaged. It started okay, but when it was time to put the lights up, Robo-Sonic took them from the fox and wrapped them around the tree in three seconds flat.

“Oh,” Tails said, ears flicking back. “We usually do that together.”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “It’s not exactly a two-man job, kid. It’s done, now.”

“Right.” Tails reached across himself to tightly grip his arm. “G-good job.”

The fox quietly left soon after.

That left Amy.

She tried. She really did.

She pulled out the ingredients for the cookies she and Sonic baked every year. But there was no laughter as they mixed the ingredients together. No trying to keep him from dipping his fingers into the batter. No slapping his hands away as she tried to roll out the dough.

Robo-Sonic was focused and efficient. The cookies went in without issue.

“You’re really not him anymore, are you?” she asked, her voice soft.

He turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m better.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “No. No you’re not.”

Amy turned, hoping to be out of the house before the first tears fell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic watched her leave, just like all the others had left.

He didn’t care. The less he had to deal with these losers, the better. He was only here because Eggman practically ordered him to be. He wasn’t enjoying this. He didn’t care about these stupid traditions and little holiday scenes the others insisted on.

He should leave. They all left, so apparently they didn’t care if he was here or not. He should just go back to Eggman’s lair, tell him the mission was a failure because these rodents couldn’t accept that he wasn’t the weak loser they remembered. They’d have a good laugh at the overly sentimental nature of these fools and that would be that.

He took a few steps toward the door, intending to do just that.

Then he stopped.

Turned and watched the oven timer tick down.

Less than ten minutes before the cookies were done. There was no one else in the house. He had no idea when they’d be back.

If he left and they didn’t return for a long time after, the cookies would burn.

The house might burn.

If these losers wouldn’t give him a decent fight because they were ���sad’ about his change (his improvement), then they certainly wouldn’t be up for any challenging battles should Amy’s house burn down on Christmas Eve.

He could wait ten minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is worse than when we thought he was gone,” Tails said, curling his namesakes around himself. He let out a long sigh. “This feels like a cruel joke.”

The group had met up near Sonic’s old shack. Knuckles stood with his back to the porch post, arms crossed. Tails sat on the front steps, staring out into the ocean as the waves licked the beach below. Sticks sat on the ground nearby, legs crossed beneath her, an angry pout on her face.

And Amy stood a little apart from them, staring into Sonic’s shack. The moon was full tonight, and lit the area enough to see.

The shack stood dark and empty, like it had since Sonic was changed.

“I’m sorry guys,” she said, her voice soft. “I thought . . . I thought if he was in a familiar place, if he was surrounded by his friends, doing things he loved, then he’d remember.”

“It was a nice try, Ames,” Knuckles said, rubbing a hand over his face. “But he’s not him anymore.”

She pulled her lips tight. “No. I guess he’s not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Popcorn was strewn all over the floor. Some were crunched from being stepped on, but most broken because of his metal fingers.

He looked down at his fingers now.

Sharp and cold. He couldn’t really feel anything now. Oh sure, there were pressure points on the outside plating, giving him the approximate sensation of ‘touch’. But he couldn’t feel.

The fingers curled into a fist.

Nevermind.

That wasn’t important. He was better. Stronger.

His LEDs flicked back down to the floor.

It wouldn’t be fair to leave Amy to clean up this mess, and he knew Knuckles likely wouldn’t help. Seemed a waste to throw out all that popcorn, though.

He checked his internal clock. Seven more minutes until the cookies were done.

He had time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He didn’t even try,” Amy said, moving to sit next to Tails. She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. “He said he would try and he didn’t.”

“Actually,” Tails said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “He said he wouldn’t fight, insult us, or sulk. That’s not really the same thing as trying.”

“But he promised he’d participate!” she said, and even to her own ears it sounded ridiculous. “He . . . he promised.”

“I guess he technically did participate,” Knuckles said with a shrug. “He was just being an irritable and impatient jerk about it.”

“On the bright side,” Sticks said, tilting her head to the side. “He did reveal a horrible injustice done to me by those shysters who sold me those boxes. I made sure they wouldn’t cheat anyone else like that!”

The others sighed, the mood not exactly feeling any lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic stood before the tree. The popcorn was all cleaned up, and now he stood with his arms crossed, staring at the wrapped presents strewn about, where Sticks had let them drop as he’d examined each one.

With a soft electronic sigh, he bent to gather them, stacking them neatly.

He picked up the final two, which were identically shaped, only with different wrapping. One was addressed to Tails, the other to him.

Well, to the weaker version of him, anyway.

He’d scanned them before, when Sticks had requested, and discovered they held matching scarves. Yellow for him, blue for Tails.

Probably hand crocheted by Amy herself. She liked to do that kind of thing.

He didn’t know why she bothered. That took a lot of time; it was easier to simply buy a scarf. They weren’t that expensive, really.

He stared at the boxes for a long moment, before placing them on the stack.

Glancing up, he flicked his LEDs over the tree at the lights he’d strung earlier.

They bothered him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I just . . .” Amy said, burying her face in her hands. “I hoped there was something left of him. Something that showed our Sonic was still in there.”

Silence answered her. It hung heavy before Tails gave a little sigh, reaching over to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I did too, Amy. I really did. He’s . . . he was my best friend. The idea that he’s gone is . . . well, it’s hard to accept.”

She nodded. “It’s so strange. He seems so much like the Sonic we remember, but . . . not.” She sighed, a harsh, frustrated sound. “I wish Eggman hadn’t sent him here. It’s making everything worse.”

Tails’ hand gripped her a little tighter. Knuckles moved to sit on her other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“We could pay Eggman a visit and deck his halls, if that would make you feel better,” he said, a little smile curling one side of his mouth. “Want me to leave a knuckle sandwich in his stocking?”

Amy gave a soft giggle, shaking her head. “As tempting as that is, I don’t want to ruin anything any more than it already is. It’s bad enough that–” She gasped, her eyes going wide. “THE COOKIES! I completely forgot about them!”

She shot to her feet and ran toward her house with the others close behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh no oh no oh no!” Amy nearly whined as she burst into her kitchen. She expected a house full of black smoke, possibly even flames shooting from her oven, but she stopped dead when there was no oppressive heat of an uncontrolled fire, no choking smoke threatening to smother her. “What?”

The others screeched to a halt behind her, piling up and nearly knocking her over.

The scene that met them was one she would not have believed just fifteen minutes ago.

Robo-Sonic was pulling the cookie sheets from the oven. He turned and placed them on towels he’d set out to protect her counters, before looking up and finding himself with company.

“Well look who decided to finally show back up,” he said, flicking the oven off and turning to plant his hands on his hips. “Figures you guys would all take off and leave me to do all the clean up.”

Silence answered him as the others stared. Amy’s gaze fell to the cookies currently cooling on her counter. “You . . . you stayed to take them out?”

He shrugged. “Boss said I had to stay, so I stayed. I’m used to picking up the slack for you los–” He caught himself. He’d promised not to insult them. “You left. The cookies were done. I pulled ‘em out. The end.”

Amy stared. This . . . this wasn’t what she expected.

“Hey,” Knuckles said, pointing to the other counter. “What are those?”

All eyes turned to a plate stacked with popcorn balls. Robo-Sonic shrugged as he pulled them over to place on the center island counter behind the cooling cookies.

“Ames would have had a fit if I threw away perfectly good popcorn,” he said, stepping back to lean against the counter. “So I made those.”

“Huh, that’s weird.” Knuckles stepped forward to pick up one of the popcorn balls. “How did you get the string to do that?” He took a bite, his eyes lighting up. “Hey! That’s really good! And no string to get stuck in my teeth!”

Robo-Sonic shrugged again. “Amy always has a bag of marshmallows hidden away. Thinks I don’t know about it. She uses them to sweeten her coffee. Which I always thought was gross, but whatever. Figured I’d use ‘em to make something better than those stupid garlands.”

Amy blinked. Sonic would regularly raid her cabinets, so it wasn’t a surprise he knew about her secret mallow stash, but the way he was talking . . . the things he did while they were gone . . .

This was absolutely not what she expected.

“Hey, what happened to the tree?” Tails’ voice cut through her musings. They looked into the living room where the tree stood dark. “Where are the lights?”

“Took ‘em off.” Robo-Sonic’s voice sounded almost bored, like there was an implied shrug even if his shoulders didn’t move. “They were bugging me. Not strung right. Some spots had the same colored lights all bunched up. I’m not good with that kinda detail stuff.”

More silence, and Amy dared to hope. Dared to think that her Sonic, their Sonic, really was still in there.

“Do you . . .” Tails started, his voice small and shaky. “Do you want to try again? I can make sure the colors are adequately distributed this time.”

Robo-Sonic stood still for a moment, as though contemplating. Amy expected a sharp retort. An annoyed “Fine” or “Whatever”.

But instead, the robot offered a simple, “Sure.”

A little smile curled her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just before midnight.

Wrapping paper was strewn about, tossed carelessly as the annual gift exchange had taken place. The gang sat on the floor before the tree–now properly trimmed and lit, thanks to Tails’ careful calculations of the optimal placement of the various colored lights–with the star perched atop. Robo-Sonic had placed it there, in keeping with his and Tails’ tradition.

Now soft snores floated over the living room. Sticks, Knuckles, and Tails were fast asleep, their gifts piled nearby, while Amy and Robo-Sonic sat a little further away, their backs against the couch.

Amy wanted to break the silence. Needed to break it. The longer they sat like that, the longer it went without at least trying to get through to him, the more she’d beat herself up over it later.

This was the perfect chance to try and bring him around. To try and reach the Sonic she knew was still in there.

After another moment of hesitation, she cleared her throat.

“I suppose I need to send a thank you note to Eggman,” she said, her voice soft. “For letting you come tonight.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “You always were a stickler for manners.”

She swallowed, turning her head away slightly. The familiarity he spoke with. He knew her. As much as she tried to convince herself that he wasn’t any different from Metal Sonic, that he was just some robot who’d copied Sonic’s personality . . . she couldn’t fully believe that.

She spared another glance in his direction. The yellow scarf she’d crocheted him was fastened around his neck. When he and Tails had opened those gifts he’d hesitated before putting it on, but finally tied it in place, much to Tails’ delight. Sonic never looked right without that trademark scarf around his neck.

The color contrasted with the red Santa hat still perched on his head. Her eyes flicked back to that gift label above his visor. Eggman’s logo seemed to glare at her, a stark reminder that he was here on borrowed time. 

Another silent moment passed, and she turned away again. When she spoke, her voice was quieter. Hardly above a whisper.

“Stay.”

“No.”

The response was immediate. He didn’t even consider it.

“Why?” She turned back to him sharply, her tone pleading. “Why do you hate us so much?”

He turned his head away from her for a moment, before turning back. “Because you’re weak.”

“We’re stronger together.” She turned to him more fully and tried to pull back the pleading tone. “We were always stronger with you.”

“I can’t carry the whole team, Ames,” he said, his tone hard. “I can’t do what needs done if I’m worrying about the rest of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Amy said, and hated how pathetic her voice sounded even to her own ears. “Doing what needs done? What needs done is keeping Eggman from ruining everything, from destroying everything we love. We did that! And now you’re helping him. I just . . . I don’t understand.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead looking over where the others slept. Amy watched him for a few moments, before turning away when she decided he likely wasn’t going to answer.

“Sometimes protection isn’t just about bashing some bots and calling it a day,” he said, his voice softer. “Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to focus on the bigger picture.”

She stared at him, her brows furrowed. “What’s the bigger picture?”

He went quiet again, and this time it felt more final. Like whatever information she was going to get out of him had been said.

The two sat there in silence for a long time. Finally, Amy spoke, her voice a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Sonic.”

He didn’t respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time ticked on. Robo-Sonic watched the others sleep. He didn’t need to sleep anymore, although he sometimes went into standby mode. Not a ‘sleep’ in the traditional sense, but something that let him kind of ‘drift’.

Beside him, Amy’s breathing evened out, changing to a deeper, slower rhythm. He turned and found her head tilted against the couch, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.

He watched her for a long moment.

Moving before he even knew he was, Robo-Sonic stood and gently lifted her, placing her on the couch and positioning a pillow beneath her head. She stirred slightly, and he froze, before she settled back into a comfortable position, her breathing deepening.

Pulling the afghan from the back of the couch, he draped it over her, tucking her in.

“Merry Christmas, Ames.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning.

The sun filtered in through the windows, pulling Amy from her sleep. She sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she got her bearings. It took a moment before the events of last night caught up with her, and she looked around, catching no sign of Robo-Sonic.

He must have gone back to Eggman’s.

With a sigh, she flipped the afghan back, preparing to head to the kitchen to start breakfast before the others woke. That’s when her eyes landed on a small stack of gifts on the coffee table, still unopened.

Her brow furrowed. That was odd. She could have sworn they’d opened all the presents last night.

Moving closer, she immediately recognized the sloppy, somewhat hurried wrapping style of one Sonic the Hedgehog.

She distinctly remembered helping Sonic pick out gifts months ago, in an attempt to keep him from being caught empty-handed come Christmas Eve. (Something that had happened on more than one occasion.) He must have wrapped them to have them done and ready back then.

But how . . .

Her eyes went wide.

Robo-Sonic must have gone back to Sonic’s shack and brought them here after she’d fallen asleep.

A little smile curled her lips. Her heart felt warmer than it had in months.

She had hope again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, the blue rat bot returns!” Eggman said. He turned from the breakfast table, still dressed in his long underwear. “How went the whole ‘give your ex-friends false hope so they’ll fight me with more gusto’ plan?”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “Fine.”

Eggman frowned. “Fine? That’s it? Just ‘fine’?”

Another shrug from the bot. “Yeah? Not sure what you want me to say.”

“Well, you could say that they spent the night bemoaning my successful plan to turn you into a robot; or that they tried to convince you to be some kind of double agent to get the goods on me in secret; or that they tried to appeal to your non-existent sense of loyalty to them in combination with the ‘spirit of Christmas’ to cast off your allegiance to me and rejoin them in their constant, infuriating destruction of every bot I painstakingly create!”

Robo-Sonic waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

Eggman slammed his fists on the table, sending the silverware clattering. “Oh, you are just as infuriating now as you were when you were flesh and fur! I thought you were going to bring back some gossip or embarrassing tales of what happened!”

“What can I tell ya, Boss,” the robot said as he began to wander off. “Just a boring Christmas Eve. Same old, same old. Just like all the others.”

Eggman scowled. “Then what’s with the scarf?”

Robo-Sonic froze. The scarf. He’d forgotten he had it on. “What about it?”

The doctor smirked. “Seems a little sentimental, don’t you think? A lovingly hand knitted scarf from your little girlfriend.”

Robo-Sonic turned sharply, red LEDs narrowed. “She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s crocheted.”

Eggman scoffed. “My, my. Aren’t we touchy?”

The robot hedgehog uttered a little growl, before stalking toward the doctor. He yanked the scarf off his neck and slapped it on the table. “Whatever. I don’t need it.”

Eggman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure nothing happened back there?”

Robo-Sonic let out a soft scoff as he turned and walked away. “Nothing worth reporting.”

Eggman watched him go with a frown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic walked down a long hallway, the walls a polished steel here. He pushed the thoughts of last night away.

It was just a mission. He was sent there to spy. To gather intel. To give false hope so those losers would fight harder when he and Eggman attacked next.

Because if they fought harder, they got stronger. They needed to be stronger.

He only acted the way he did last night to foster that sense of hope. That he was still the Sonic they remembered.

That was the only reason.

His hand curled into a fist.

The only reason.

But that scarf . . .

A voice in the back of his mind whispered. Said things he knew weren’t true. Tried to make him soft. Make him weak.

He stopped and turned to face one of the walls. They were polished to a near mirror finish. He stared at his reflection. The gift label was still stuck to his forehead and that stupid Santa hat still perched on his metal quills.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

He almost saw the hedgehog he once was.

With a growl, he yanked the hat off and tossed it to the ground, before tearing the sticker from above his visor. It shredded, leaving behind sticky paper strips. Figures Eggman would have the cheapest, most residue-y stickers on hand.

Last night had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have gone.

Uttering a growl that bordered on a yell, Robo-Sonic drew his fist back and punched the wall, leaving a deep dent in the metal at the impact.

“No more weakness. You had your chance. You failed. Now it’s my turn.”

Robo-Sonic withdrew his hand from the crumpled metal, and continued along his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Eggman said after Robo-Sonic had walked away. He slumped against the table with his chin in his hand.

Don’t pout.

“I’m not pouting!”

Seems a good place to end things, doncha think?

Eggman let out a frustrated grunt. “You wanna do the thing, don’t you?”

Wouldn’t be a Christmas story without it.

A long sigh. “Fine.”

And with Eggman pouting from not getting his way, Happy Christmas to all and to all a good day.

“I’m not pouting!”

Hush.

Merry Christmas, Season’s Greetings, and Happy Holidays to all!

[roachs-pet-roach]

obligatory dec 3rd hcs

ghoap, gazroach, nikprice for these hcs

Ghost refused to get a jacket or hoodie with his name on it

It just felt weird

That was until he started his thing with soap

his hoodies kept going missing.

He had a few idea as to where they went.

Soldiers wore each others jackets sometimes

After all, Gary was usually seen with “GARRICK” on the back of his jacket.

Gaz usually seen with “SANDERSON”

Price wasnt usually so obvious

but every one in awhile his hoodies or shirts ended up with russian lettering on them.

Eventually Ghost resorted to getting a jacket with “RILEY” across the back

his hoodies started returning at the expense of that jacket going missing.

he almost choked the first time he saw Soap in the mess with ‘RILEY’ across his back

He’d dragged the man back to his room

“the fuck do you think you’re wearing?”

He’d growled as he’d shoved johnny against the door

Soap had just given him that shit eating grin

Ghost had just kissed Johnny senseless as he wrestled the jacket off him.

there was a lot of giggling from johnny

that night Ghost’s jacket was replaced with a hoodie that read “MACTAVISH” across the back

this was entirely self-indulgent 😔

[roachs-pet-roach]

BRO STOP THIS IS SO GOOD

chimera shifter ghost au where he grows and changes through various animal features.

it’s constant to the point he has to entirely cover up to prevent others from seeing as feathers melt into scales, back into skin, quills emerging only to be replaced with spines and then whiskers.

after a full week of consistently carrying varying kinds of bird wings on his back, soap finally convinces him to let him preen the itching feathers as they descend into disarray.

halfway through, as soap’s sitting straddling ghost's back where he’s splayed out on his bed for better access, the feathers start to stretch and meld together. soft fluff is replaced with iridescent membrane that splits and elongates into 4 fluttering dragonfly wings.

ghost, half asleep and completely relaxed below him, doesn't seem to notice. so soap just continues gently running a dampened washcloth along the newly smooth surface, admiring the shimmer, and quietly memorizes the subtle green shine along delicate veins to later document into his sketchbook.

ghost doesn’t know it yet, but soap keeps a detailed documentation of every shape he falls into. Every scale, antler and spine lovingly etched in graphite and whatever coloured pigment he can get his hands on, safely kept in its own special journal. it's safe to say soap delights in the ever shifting face of his lieutenant, but what truly catches his attention, is the man who wears it. (and maybe one day, when ghost finally sees it, its the final push he needs to finally let soap in. ghost's made him wait long enough.) ((soap doesn't mind. he would have waited forever, if that's how long it took.))

[thehomelybadger]

more of my fantasy stuff. she has a name - adel - and she has an anger.