#sorry I am thinking again about how you can do something with peacemaker and nobody wants to ......

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

We CANT lose the diplomat/CEO Of A Peace Business backstory for Peacemaker we cant ok not before Al Ewing gets to it

[golden-barnes]

Audacity

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky has a long list of reasons to hate John Walker. But the fake Captain America deciding to flirt with you, definitely takes the cake.

Category: Smut 18+

Warning: Jealous Bucky is just soft dom! Bucky, dirty talk, penetrative sex, slight chocking, closet sex, and just John Walker being annoying

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: trying out this new format bc I liked the way it look when I did the Spencer Reid fic. A small spoiler warning for the newest FATWS episode but other than that it’s like an AU bc this really has nothing to do with yesterdays’ episode. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

There’s a lot to hate about John Walker. The fact that he is trying to replace Steve as a cheap version of Captain America. His stupid face and the way he handles the shield. Even the way he speaks comes off as pretentious and arrogant.

But what really made Bucky seethe with anger is the fact that his little beady eyes would not stop looking at you. Undressing you with his eyes. Taking in every move and gesture you made. It made Bucky’s blood boil. He kept clenching and unclenching his fist. How haven’t you noticed his insisting fucking starring? 

“Can you chip your teeth? Because I’m pretty sure you might by how clenched your jaw” Sam said, patting Bucky on the back. He just rolled his eyes but decided not to say anything. 

There was nothing that can be done. They made a silent pack not to anger the imposter. The government had asked Sam, Bucky and you to help out with a smuggling ring that they have discovered and low and behold, their little Captain America got his ass handed to him. They basically begged them to help. Bucky almost screamed a Fuck no into their faces but you managed to hold him off from punching the soldier that appeared at your apartment. 

You turned around and bent over to pick up something. You were unaware that the fake Captain America licked his crusty lips while looking at you. He kept eying you like a piece of meat. Bucky rolled his eyes again and turned to Sam who was quietly reading the reports.

“Can I punch him?” Bucky whispered to Sam.

“Do you want your pardon to be revoked?” Sam said to him, not even looking up from the reports.

“There’s nobody here. Y/N won’t say anything. You definitely won’t mind.” Bucky whispered, glaring at the blond man that kept staring at you. You clearly didn’t give a shit about him. Therefore, why was he still looking at you?

Sam rolled his eyes at his ex-assassin friend. “Yeah, and later we can steal the shield.” Sam looked up from the reports and pushed them to the side. 

“Exactly! Yeah, now that’s a plan.” Bucky said excitedly, standing up from his chair trying to make his way to John before being stopped by Sam, who grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him back into his chair. Before Bucky could protest, he heard you whistle at them. 

“Hey, guys! I think I have something.” You said. The three men surrounded you, while you were explaining how you found out the new base location for the smuggling ring.

Bucky tried his best to focus on what you were saying and your explanation, but he couldn’t help but notice that the Kmart version of Captain America was inching closer and closer to you. Didn’t this man have a wife? Bucky swore he read that somewhere. Why does he keep staring and getting closer to you?

“Oh! Sorry, ma’am.” The jackass said, when he “accidentally” bumped into you, he grabbed your waist and forearm to stabilize you. 

“It’s okay.“ You told him, and let out a soft chuckle. Bucky felt his pen explode in his hand. The three of you turned to the pouty super soldier who just rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the schematics. 

You knew something was up with Bucky. He didn’t say anything. Not after the pen exploding incident. Not even when you were joking around with Sam. He loved making witty comebacks to your jokes. It was your thing. 

But maybe it was John Walker’s presence that made it uncomfortable for him. You knew Bucky hated the guy, mostly cause he took Steve’s spot without earning it. But there was something more to this. Bucky has always had a staring problem, but the number of sharp glares he has been sending to Walker has been enough to alert anyone. You couldn’t comfort him, not without making it super apparent that you are dating. And Bucky had already expressed that he doesn’t want to publicize it unless it’s only Sam that’s around. 

“Agent Y/L/N, I think I found something,” Torres said, signaling to you to go follow him upstairs. You took one last look at Bucky, who was still glaring at the oblivious John Walker.

“Damn, I don’t know how you guys get any work done with that around you all the time,” John said, staring at you walking up the stairs. More specifically, staring at your ass. 

Bucky looked at Sam, almost begging him to let him punch the douchebag that is this man. But Sam gripped his forearm. Bucky will not lose his pardon like this. 

“How about we focus on the damn mission?” Bucky almost growled. John Walker put his hands up.

“I’m sorry man. It’s just- look at her.” John sat back and leaned into his chair. From the distance, he could see you talking to Torres. 

“C’mon man. You asked us for our help but we aren’t here to do all the work.” Sam said trying to be the peacemaker between the super-soldier with a murderous gaze and the soldier with the wondering eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah sorry.” John said trying to go back to the records. You were descending from the stairs and walking over to them. John brought his attention back to you. The way your hips would sway when you walked. The confidence in every step. Everything Bucky loved, and apparently fucking John did too.

“Guys, I think we need to rest for today. I am a little bit burned out. I think we all are.” You said, with your hands on your hips. Bucky felt his heart clench, you did look tired. Especially because you were almost doing all the work and piecing all of the clues. 

“That’s an incredible idea.” Sam said stretching in his chair. He also looked tired. It made Bucky feel bad that he has been focusing all his energy on glaring and not helping out. He almost felt guilty.

Almost because a surge of rage flows through him again. John “Can’t take a hint” Walker smirked at you while you were grabbing the files that were on the table. 

Bucky didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye. To Sam or the annoying motherfucker that made Bucky want to break rule number 2.

“Woah, Buck. what are you doing?” You said while the brunet dragged you around the base. His grip on your forearm was hard but not enough for it to hurt. Bucky wouldn’t hurt you, not in any way you wouldn’t like it. 

There was something about how Bucky was walking, the silence, the way he was searching for something but never letting go of you.

Bucky opened up a closet door. 

“Get in, doll.”  He whispered in your ear, in a low deep voice. You let out a gasp, feeling goosebumps all over your body. You looked at Bucky in the eyes, and you knew he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. You entered the closet space without protesting.

It was a small storage closet. It barely had anything in it so you felt cramped. You turned to Bucky, while he closed the door. The man stalked towards you and you walked backward till your back hit the wall. Bucky had you cornered, and you didn’t mind it.

“Did you have fun, doll?” Bucky said, getting close to your face. His hands went to your hips, pulling you towards him. 

“Buck, what are you talking about?” You whispered to him. Bucky rolled his eyes and took one of his hands off your hips. Placing it on your neck, lightly applying some pressure to it. You gasped at his touch, he chuckled a bit at your reaction. 

“C’mon darling. Did you have fun playing around with the imposter Captain America? I mean he had fun looking at you. So I’m assuming that you had fun being looked at.” He said, with his hand still on your neck and his face inches away from your face. You looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t notice that. Well, I did. Maybe I should teach you who do you belong to. Would you like that sweetheart?” He said, his breath tickling your lip. You nodded, breathless. Bucky smiled at you.

The hand that was around your neck, went to your chin. Grabbing it and pulling you closer so that your lips would meet. His hands started to wander across your body, while yours looped around his neck. 

Your kisses started to grow hungrier, more desperate. As if Bucky spotted kissing you, you would fade away. His hands reached the zipper of your pants and pulled it down. Not even breaking from your kiss, Bucky managed to push your pants down. You break from your kiss to get out of them, while Bucky took off his pants and underwear.

He didn’t wait. He pushed you softly back on the wall and started to leave kisses and soft bites all over your neck. 

“Jump, baby girl,” He said softly against your skin, patting your butt.

 And you did just so. Wrapping your legs around his waist, with one of his hands on your ass and another moving your panties to the side. 

“Hold that there, baby. Let me make you feel so good.” Holding his neck with one hand, you moved another hand to hold your panties to the side, to make it easy for him.

“Good girl.”And with one thrust, he was inside you, hitting all the spot. You moaned and gripped the back of his neck tightly.

“Like that doll? Can anyone else do this to you uhn? C’mon doll give me everything you got.” With every word that came out of his mouth, he would thrust hard and deep into you. You felt lightheaded. Your legs tightening around his waist but his thrust wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, Buck. Don’t stop.” You gasped. Bucky kept kissing your neck. Overloading your senses. You were close, you knew it. Bucky knew it. You could feel him grin against your skin.

“Who makes you feel this good, doll?” He asked. You gasped at his sudden change in pace. He started to thrust more desperately, less controlled. He was close too.

“You. Fuck, only you.Shit, Bucky. I’m going to cum.”  Bucky smirked at you.

“Then cum, doll.” Bucky silenced your cries with his lips. Still thrusting into you, letting you ride your high and getting to his. And that wouldn’t be long.

With one final thrust, Bucky came. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and let you down.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You said, putting on your pants.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You slapped his chest lightly, which made him laugh.

“I hope you realize that I would never go with discount Captain America over there.” You joked which made Bucky laugh even harder. You both were dressed and tried to look as decent as you could to leave the closet and the base.

“Let’s hope that fucking in an army base won’t be the reason you lose your pardon.” You said, grabbing Bucky’s hand, to give him reassurance. He gave you a smirk.

“Maybe if we let them watch, they won’t take it away,” Bucky replied to you, giving you a wink. 

“Yeah and get John Walker to join would also help your case.” Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked at you.

“Oh, you are gonna get it when we get home.” Now it was your turn to wink at your boyfriend.

“I’m hoping I do.” Bucky shook his head but pulled you closer to him. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, walking towards the exit of the base. Confident that John Walker couldn’t take you away from him.

[kibleedibleedoo]

The oneshot I lovingly call “Fuck you Thranduil”

Just a little oneshot that has been floating around my head for a few weeks. Its set after BOTFA where everyone lives / nobody dies (YAY) during the negotiations regarding reparations. 

Warnings - if you couldnt tell from the title it contains a few swear words, mentions of assault/abuse of power, mention of bloody death

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"Well, if you do not agree to our terms then the Arkenstone will remain in our possession."

"Listen here you pointy eared bastard! " Thorin raised a hand to silence his cousin, then brought it to his furrowed brow. The meeting continued to go around in circles, as it had the past few days, no side willing to budge on their demands and no concessions being made.

"I think it time we all took a break." Bard, ever the peacemaker, huffed.  He was already out of his chair and pouring himself another drink. Dain was all worked up and angling for a fight, which with guards and armies assembled would undoubtedly lead to another war leaving countless more dead.

"Amrâlimê, you have barely spoken work since talks began." Thorin turn to you stood next to his chair and kiss your hand.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to overstep the mark"

"I think we are well past that given the bickering that is occurring. If you would like I can have Dwalin go to back to the mountain, at least then one of us can have a reprieve."  he chuckled through a pain smile. His patience was wearing dangerously thin.

"No, it's okay." you smiled back. A flash of relief washed over Thorin's face. "Plus, I think I have an idea, but it is going to be umm well a bit insane, possibly a little dangerous, and it might make things a whole lot worse.  Do you trust me?" you whispered into his ear.

" Do I trust your judgement? Undoubtably! Your ability to keep yourself safe? Well, that is why we have a small army of guards overseeing the negotiations. If you think it will work, go at least put an end to this, then you have my blessing" Thorin whispered back.

"Excellent!" your hand reached up and caressed his face. As he turned his lips met yours. " if you'll excuse me, I just need to fetch something" you kissed him quickly then left.

"As I have said before, operations you are requesting at out of the question!" Thorin growled cutting Thranduil off. 

"Do you mind if I cut in?" you asked before Bard or Thranduil could begin again. Thorin smirked and ushered you forward. "My lords, I think it is important we address your request individually as our current approach is getting as nowhere. Lord Bard I hope you do not mind, but I will be addressing the elven king first.

"Very well" Bard seemed a bit taken aback for a moment that consented regardless.

"For my benefit could you please reiterate your demands Lord Thranduil?"

"The necklace made of jewels of Starlight, pay for my soldiers, and compensation for those lost defending the Mountain!" Thranduil snarled.

"and in exchange you will relinquish your claim on the Arkenstone?" Thranduil tilts his head in your direction, his smug way of agreeing. " brilliant!" you now turned your attention back to Thorin. " as part of my employment contract I am entitled to one fifthteenth of the treasure in Erebor, correct?

"Yes?" everyone was now looking in your direction, confusion plastered across their faces.

"Then I would like to claim this as part of my share" you gesture towards a very distinctive elvish box. " it was after all an item of treasure from within the mountain." Thorin leaned back in his chair, eager to see where you are going with this, while Thranduil’s expression flashes from shock to distain. Your attention now returns to the elven King. "It seems I am now the owner of this beautiful, jewelled necklace that you so desire and unfortunately for you I do not desire the Arkenstone nearly half as much as the dwarfs you were previously dealing with." Thranduil clenched his jaw, trying to keep his composure. He knew he had just lost the upper hand.  You knew the calmer you acted the more frustrated Thranduil would become. Afterall, the last time you had engaged the elven king have almost slit your throat trying to get information about the quest from Thorin and yourself. Now you all that scar with pride but still you held a grudge and would do anything to see that entitled elf brought down a peg or two. " Now from where I am standing, I do not see why you are entitled to anything you're requesting. See it was you who assembled your army against us. You were only caught up in the war because you marched on the mountain for selfish reasons!

"THOSE JEWELS BELONG TO THE ELVES!" Thranduil rose to his full height, likely as a means to intimidate you. However, though he was nearly twice, your size your rage was far greater. You would stand atop the table if you must, to show that Thranduil did not have the upper hand. 

"Those jewels belong to me! Regardless of who they belong to in the past after the dragon attacked, anything in that mountain belong to those brave enough to try and reclaim Erebor and since I am counted among those few these jewels on mine." a smirk crossed your face knowing that Thranduil was struggling to keep dignified. " now the deal on the table is these jewels for the Arkenstone."

"I cannot conduct such a trade. My men -----------” before he could even finish his sentence you cut Thranduil off.

"That is a pity. Oh well, I am sure this necklace will look lovely when I wear it to my wedding” you took the Jewels out of their box and drape them over your neck. " my love do you mind?" Wordlessly Thorin stood, brushed your hair to the side, fasten the necklace and placed a kiss with a gems of Starlight grazed your collarbone then sat back down. It seems he was enjoying how flustered Thranduil was becoming, and he did have to admit he did find it rather attractive when you took charge. “Thank you.” You once again switched your attention to another. “My Lord Dain, what do you think?”

“You look divine my lady.” This earned Dain a quick judging glance from Thorin, you were his one after all.

“Hmmmm I don't know, it doesn't sit quite right with my scar. “Your hand traced across the stones, feeling their position on your neck as you turned back to the elven king. “No, I think it would be better if we broke it apart for different jewellery. “

“YOU WILL NOT!” It seems that had caused Thranduil to finally snap. the tip of his sword was now firmly pressed against your throat. all had jumped into position. Dwarves, elves, and men all ready with swords drawn. worry exuded from Thorin however he trusted your calmness and held Dain back.

“Go ahead. Spill my blood all over your wife’s necklace. Did she die wearing it?” A single drop of blood landed on one of the sparkling stones. “Did her blood tarnish the jewels as mine now seems to?” You wiped the warm, sticky blood from the gems and tapped Thranduil’s sword to the side, which he lowered in shock. “Oh, did you not expect me to know the history and why you covet this piece of jewellery so much?“ No words were uttered, the entire tent was silent even Thranduil was speechless. “Now I repeat again, the Arkenstone for the necklace. Or I break it up piece by piece it's that simple.” You gave the elven king a sweet smile, but he said nothing “No? Okay. Thorin my dear, do you reckon it is possible to get one of these gems out with just a knife? or will I need a hammer? I want to do it personally you see.” You had already unclasped the necklace and held it firmly in your grasp.

“A knife should work on some of the smaller stones, aye” Concern had not left Thorin. At any point this could turn deadly. You are pressing buttons that even an orc dare not press. Still, he knew interrupting now would only lead to disaster.

“Great thank you.” You reached down to your boot and took a small knife from within, then placed the necklace on the table ready to take a stab at disassembling it.

“Wait!” Thranduil shouted drawing everyone's attention from you. “You have a deal!” He almost sounded defeated. Almost.

“I will give you this necklace and in exchange you and your army will leave this land. Agreed?”

“. . . . Agreed.“ Thranduil responded flatly.

“and the Arkenstone will be returned?”

“. . . . yes.” Bard and Thranduil exchanged a look but agreed nonetheless.

“Don't worry Bard, I still acknowledge your claim on the Arkenstone as well.” He gave you a slow nod of acknowledgement. “Then it's a deal!” Thranduil watched as you gently placed the necklace back into its box, then held out your hand to shake on the deal. Apparently, that was not how deals were usually ended in Middle Earth.

“Come, we should leave these accursed lands!” Thranduil took the box from the table and quickly turned on his heels, not even acknowledging the other Kings at the table.

“Oh! Thranduil” you called after the elven King. As he turned, you flung a single gold coin at him. “I'm feeling generous. Here, consider this a donation towards your troops.” He scowled and swiftly left, causing Dain to burst into bouts of uncontrolled laughter.

“Up yours! You gangly bugger!” Dane managed to pant out through laughter. Thorin looked at you full of love, pride, and bemusement. You moved across the room and sat on the table across from Bard. He looked vaguely terrified but concealed it well.

“Back in Laketown Thorin gave his word that the wealth of the mountain would be shared. Bilbo and I vouched for him.” Bard nodded, not entirely sure where you were going. Your calmness unnerving for all now. “If he does not keep his word it would reflect poorly on me. Now I cannot have that. You will receive enough gold to rebuild Dale and Laketown.” You quickly glanced at Thorin to ensure he wasn't already scowling. “Your people will be looked after through the winter and they will receive compensation for the dragon attack and the battle. Is this acceptable?”

“That is very generous my lady.” Thorin and Bard locked eyes. Thorin’s usual scowl had returned causing Bard to shift his attention back to you. You briefly returned Thorin’s scowl, letting him know this was happening whether he liked it or not.

“If the King doesn't keep up with payments please inform me. I will ensure everything is taken care of. I took the Liberty of bringing a chest so that you need not leave here empty handed.“ Bard gave you a quick bow and took the chest from one of the dwarven guards, leaving the Arkenstone behind on the table. Turning back to Thorin and Dain you could see they weren't nearly as happy as when Thranduil left.

“That was far more than I was willing to give, amrâlimê”

“When you failed to provide adequate compensation, you called my honour into question Thorin. Thorin looked slightly ashamed at your remark. “At least I earned you back the Arkenstone my love.” Since you weren't in a caring mood you took the opportunity to sit on your Kings lap.

“You were very impressive ghivâshelûh” Thorin tilted your chin up to inspect the wound on your neck. It was only minor. and required no further attention.

“Remind me not to get on the wrong side of the future Queen” Dain chuckled.

“You might have to remind me the same cousin.” Thorin smiled giving you a kiss.

  Translations

Amrâlimê – my love

Ghivâshelûh – my treasure of all treasures

[halorocks1214]

the law of action

AO3 Link

Word Count: 10100

Summary: The Law of Action must be applied in order for us to manifest things on earth. Therefore, we must engage in actions that support our thoughts, dreams, emotions, and words

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | You are here! | Virgil | Scott | Gordon

these just keep getting longer fellas i dont understand how thats possible but it is. ALSO: REMEMBER IN ATTRACTION WHEN I MENTIONED THAT THESE WERE BEING WRITTEN OUT OF ORDER. HA, UH, KIND OF AN UNDERSTATEMENT I GUESS. but its here! johns pov chapter! im pretty satisfied with it, albeit a few kinks i wasnt really able to work out, so i hope you enjoy it too!

thanks again to @gumnut-logic for the prompts! "Where?" and lightning were this fic's choices. sad to see the last ones go away, but this was still a blast so thank you once more! also, just because the prompts are gone doesnt mean this series will be too ;3

Anger was a rare emotion for John Tracy.

It had to be. When dealing with the cold hard truth of data telling them something wasn't possible or dealing with annoying people who thought they knew better than him or dealing with people panicking in his ear because nobody expected the aftershock of an earthquake to be that bad, he didn’t have a choice. There were a lot of deals in life that had to be made and someone needed to play peacemaker, even if it wasn’t deserved.

It was true that he got the least angry out of his siblings, even compared to Virgil. Virgil might not get necessarily violent like Scott did, or threw caution to the wind like Gordon, or, hell, pulled off whatever John does when someone somehow manages puts him in a bad mood, but Virgil did get angry quite a lot. He just didn’t have as many blatant ways of showing it. John, on the other hand, didn’t have a lot of ticks. Pet peeves, definitely, John was no stranger to annoyance (especially with siblings like his), but not outright anger.

That didn’t mean he never got angry. He was Tracy born and bred, so that meant one the few ticks he did have surrounded the topic of family.

Specifically, his family being threatened.

John wished he was the youngest sometimes. That meant he could say things like let Scott punch the idiot already, he’d be doing the world a favor, and not get lambasted for the immature response. It also meant he could throw tantrums to hell and back and not feel like a total loser.

Like right now for example.

“EOS, I swear, if you don’t open the elevator door for me--”

“No, I won’t.”

Unbelievable.

Groaning and rubbing his face, his hands found their way up to his forehead and through his hair, holding his bangs out of his eyes for a moment. His eyes had many emotions in them, the most blatant being this shit cannot be happening right now, “EOS, do you know you’re amazing? I don’t think I’ve said that enough.”

EOS whirled for a moment, “John, I’ve seen that grin on Gordon. I cannot believe you would stoop that low.”

The grin she pointed out fell flat off his face, “Yeah, okay, you’re right about that--”

“Like I always am.”

“--So thank you,” John was going to strangle whoever defined sass so thoroughly in the dictionary. It left a bad example, “For the reminder, but seriously, I need to get up to ‘Five. It’s… important.”

It’s been a week since Alan was taken.

They’ve exhausted all options.

The only thing that could possibly get him back to them had to be International Rescue’s resources.

But EOS over here wasn’t getting the memo. Her words had that hint of childish innocence behind it. In that way that said there was no innocence whatsoever and she knew exactly what she was doing, the little shit, “John, do you really need to, or do you want to?”

There’s the inflection that John taught her. An inhale through the nose and… Uuuugghh, “EOS, I know the difference between needs and wants, this is definitely a need.”

Another lens blink, another moment of disbelief, “It seems like you have a lot of needs, John Tracy.”

John grimaced and ground his jaw together, mumbling his grievances with the current situation, “Yeah, well, if there’s any trait I truly share with my siblings, it’s that we’re all high maintenance.” His next words were more clear and designed to get the point across, “EOS, I’m not kidding, unlock the door.”

EOS stood her ground, “John, you going up there is one of the most detrimental things to you’re health at the current moment. I won’t let you.”

John threw his hands into the air, “EOS, there’s are whole lotta things that are currently detrimental to my health currently happening, one more thing won’t hurt.”

EOS lens shuttered again and John felt like it was nails on a chalkboard, “You have a point, but I’ve seen you with Scott when he’s in a similar mood. Don’t you tell him he needs to take a moment and think when he gets like this?”

John groaned as quietly as possible. Not too loud, but loud enough that EOS hopefully got the point, “Yes, I do, but I’m not Scott. We are two very different people, you have pointed this out numerous times. We have different ways of handling things, this, and ‘Five is exactly how I can fix this problem.”

That was not how he should’ve worded that. Her lights flickered in sympathy, sympathy, and he knew she finally figured out what John was trying to get at, “John, there may still be a lot I have to learn, but at least I understand--”

“No, EOS!” John snapped before he could help himself. Before she could finish explaining her point of view that was most likely right, but his desperate brain didn’t want to hear it. His brain that was running on zero energy telling him this was taking too long, fix that, “You can’t understand!”

Just like that, John was reminded of why he hated getting angry.

As soon as the words left his mouth, so did the air in his lungs. Through sheer will and determination, the only thing that didn’t leave his body was the little amounts of food he ate over the past seven days, though it really wanted to. He became very pale, and EOS could detect the not-so-trace amounts of fear that fell over his eyes.

Dammit, you idiot. Months upon that past year of work were now going to go down the drain because you blew your lid just this once! First, the call with Alan, now telling the one thing that could kill you in your sleep she’ll never essentially be good enough was--

“I know, John.”

His food came back with a vengeance, but he was bullheaded as hell, and he already caused enough damage. The last thing anyone needed was to clean up vomit. It would’ve been nicer if she got angry at him. He could handle being thrown out into space. He couldn’t handle EOS admitting he was right, least of all over blatantly cruel words.

He channeled the energy his stomach wanted to use into weak words, “E-EOS, I…” What the hell was he supposed to say? Sorry surely wasn’t going to fucking cut it.

Well, whatever he wanted to cut didn’t come up, as EOS continued as if John wasn’t the worst thing on the planet, “I’ve been doing some reading. I understand that I’ll never really understand certain human-based things like you do. You, humans, have gotten close, me being one of the better examples, as long as that’s not considered bragging, but even I’m not at that level yet. But I do at least know you and your habits. I put up with them on a daily basis.”

Because if there’s anything else John needed to fail this week, it was the one promise he made to her. His promise to keep her safe, to make sure she wasn’t treated like a mindless robot by some crazy scientists ready and willing to cut her circuitry wide open like a middle-school science project. While he would never even get close to being a quote-on-quote crazy scientist, never in a million light-years, he surely didn’t follow that middle part of his promise, “EOS, listen, I--”

“Please, John,” and now she was pleading, thinking he was going to ask to use the elevator again. Thinking he wasn’t going to give up, even after all of that. John might’ve laughed if it wasn’t his fucking fault, “I’ll help look for more options if it means you’ll stay here for a little while longer. You should stay with your family. I know how they affect you in those positive ways that you currently need.”

John was abruptly aware of his heavy, almost wheeze-like breathing. If he wasn’t careful, it could delve into one whopper panic attack, which would be so great right now, “Y-Yeah, okay. They probably won’t understand the effects of gravity over an elongated period of time like I do, so I can stay and help with that, at least. Thank you.”

As John turned around, he heard EOS whisper to herself. He could blearily tell it was actually fondness that filled her vocal waves for once, but it still stung regardless, “Idiot.”

Yeah, he really was, wasn’t he.

As he helped look over his Dad’s med-scan with Virgil, when Virgil went looking for something on the other side of the room, his father whispered, “I know this is a bad question right about now, but, is there anything we can do for you? Maybe even I? You look dead on your feet.”

John could only reply to the first half of his father’s statement with a meek, “I don’t know anymore.”

---

16-year-old John Tracy was seated atop his roof, making sure he got the perfect view of the Big-Dipper.

He was hoping to spot a more exciting constellation when he first used his new telescope, but dangit! He was just so excited to get cracking right away! He just got back from his birthday party, Alan and Gordon snoozing in their rooms while Scott and Virgil secretly finished off the cake. That was okay. John was too busy focusing on his new expensive toy to worry about having any more sweets.

His dad could pull some strings when it counted.

Newest model. The only other people who have this baby are scientists at NASA. Happy birthday, John. Sorry I didn’t get you a car like Scott.

Fuck cool cars. John would be on cloud 9 for days with this thing. Scott would call him a nerd for it. Jokes on Scott, he couldn’t zoom about 10 thousand miles into space now, could he?

Right as he nailed it, the world shook. Large arms snaked around his waist and he involuntarily found himself giggling at the contact. As soon as those limbs let go, he blushed at his reaction and cleared his throat. Suddenly, the arms were an entire body sitting down right next to him, speaking with their ever-comforting burly voice, “Hiya, son, I see you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

Rolling his eyes, John turned back into his serious, analytical self once more, “Yup, this thing’s crazy. I’m glad I got out here as quickly as I did.”

Jeff simply grinned. John was always reserved, but Jeff was a good translator for all of his sons, and he could tell that John meant this is one of the best things in my life holy crap, “That’s great to hear. The look on your face when I brought this out of the closet was certainly good enough to last me a few lifetimes.”

John snorted, “I bet it was. I heard Gordon joking about it with Alan. I don’t think I need to see any pictures anymore. I have a pretty good mental image of what I looked like.”

Jeff smiled and sighed, “No kidding. “Like a goldfish with a broken jaw.” Not the most eloquent, that Gordon is.”

Laughter rang out throughout the roof, followed by a few moments of silence. Not awkward, but not really welcomed on John’s part either, “Do you…” Stop it, John, you’re asking for too much, “Nevermind, it’s dumb.”

Jeff tilted an eyebrow, “Oh, is it? I guess you would know if something were smart or dumb, so I trust your judgment.”

Dangit, Dad, why are you so manipulative, and why are you so good at it, “I don’t know. I’ve established I wanted to be an astronaut, right?”

Jeff nodded, “Mmhmm.”

John, for some reason, felt like he needed to tread carefully, “You are also an astronaut. If there was any way for you to be able to… could you… could you come up with me the first time?”

Jeff blinked in shock, and before his son could register that as disapproval, “Huh, well, that’s certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Now it was John’s turn to blink, his mouth gaped, “Wait, what? Are you serious? Aren’t there rules for this kind of stuff?”

Jeff shrugged, his shoulders clearly saying rules shmules, “I’m also one of the biggest entrepreneurs on the planet itself, and one of the most renowned ex-astronauts there are. You would not believe the lengths people are willing to go to kiss my ass. Would you feel better if I pinky promised?”

John’s nose scrunched, “You can never truly promise anything, you know.”

His father chuckled, used to his son’s antics. John was reserved, remember, “Well, you boys always credited me with doing the impossible.”

John continued challenging him, “When we were all less than 10, yeah, sure. I think Alan still thinks you can breathe in space. You. Specifically. No one else. I think he said you only wore the helmet to “protect your secret so the evil movie scientists don’t take you away.””

Chuckles turned into laughter and a clap on John’s shoulder, “Well, glad to see I still got the magic touch at least.” That same arm that playfully smacked him was now wrapped around his shoulders, “Just you wait, Johnny boy, if I can’t get on that ship with you, then you bet your ass I’ll at least be the loudest one cheering in the crowd.”

Then, suddenly, John was right, like he always was.

A promise that never should have been made: broken. A wish never fulfilled.

Dad was swallowed up by the very thing John loved.

No more space stories, no more fun moon facts, there was a void in John’s life as big as the galaxy itself, and he wasn’t sure how to walk around it, or God forbid even into it.

He tried to be the healthy sibling about it. He tried so hard. Getting through high school quicker than most so he could just worry about his family. Scott and Grandma were doing their best, and in so many ways, it was enough, but even they couldn’t bear all of the stress themselves.

But then his high school graduation came and Grandma gave him one of the biggest hugs of his and her life and he realized that he would never get one from his father again. His mom leaving this world was already bad enough, but at least his dad was there and knew how to fill in the gap after years and years of his marriage with her. You didn’t marry a woman like Lucille Tracy and not fundamentally understand how the gears in her brain turned lest you were truly insane. Maybe Dad was. Certainly would explain a lot of things from John’s perspective. Certainly would explain why she married him in the first place. Crazy attracts crazy.

Regardless, the one thing closest to his mom’s warmth and care was gone, and if he spent the night of his graduation party quietly sobbing his eyes out while the others slept, well, then he was glad they kept snoring.

Try as he might, he became just as unhealthy and unbalanced as the rest of his family, but he was more subtle about it. His self-destructive ways weren’t bad if other people had them, but when it came to him, oh, he knew it was the worst thing he could do in terms of recovery. That’s probably why the rest of the family didn’t notice (Good). John was smart, he would know better. Yes, he did, which is exactly why he dived headfirst right into it all.

Focusing on college, getting up into the star-filled void closer to his dead relatives as quickly as possible, focusing on the here-and-now to make sure this shit didn’t happen again. Making sure no family went through what theirs did.

And maybe that’s why, why he couldn’t handle the touch of others wanting to comfort him. Because it reminded him too much of what they used to have, of what they used to be. Too many hugs and kisses from others might wash away what his mom’s and dad’s felt like, and out of all the things they could potentially lose from this, those were the worst possible ones.

John was a Tracy, which meant he was stubborn.

He wasn’t going to lose the last few things he remembered about his parents if he could help it.

---

It had been just under a month, and John finally got what he wanted.

And it wasn’t working like he thought it would, if at all.

He’s been on ‘Five for three days, and for just a fleeting moment, it washed away any uncertainty. He felt back in control, if only minorly, and he held the world at his fingertips once more. Too bad the world he wanted to fix was so far away it felt like it was on the other side of the frickin solar system itself.

He promised his family four days at most. Please, just one chance. We won’t know unless we try. He wasn’t sure what cracked them first, them coming upon dead end after dead end, them finally seeing reason behind John’s argument, or if they just got annoyed with the space monitor after endless nagging and relented like tired parents.

The tiny part of John’s mind that still allowed him to joke kinda hoped it was the third option. “Easy child”, pfft. John’ll show them.

Right, right, a clear head, the most focused of IR, he can’t get unfocused or go too far off track. He’s saved many lives throughout his life, all of them thanks to his level head, but right now, he was arguably saving the most important life of all, so that meant he had even more incentive to stay focused.

In fact, he was so focused, he jumped at the sudden, feminine voice filling the room, “John, I found another article I think you would like to see about most common places criminals… John?”

Crap, he was halfway into the fetal position. Slowly uncurling, John nodded, “Oh, thank you, EOS. I’ll start reading it shortly.”

The noise of her lens adjusting sounded throughout ‘Five again, “Of course. Let me know if you would like me to start searching for a different topic, though. There has to be a limit to how many “You wouldn’t believe this” articles one can take, and I think I’m finding it really quickly.”

For the next few seconds, John was suddenly filled with a rush of determination he had been trying to get after their little confrontation in front of a locked elevator door to ‘Five.

She had been helping him out so much the past couple of weeks. Running unnecessary tests for him, searching parts of the web only she could search without getting tracked by some secret mafia, letting him know it was okay if he couldn’t get everything right the first time when two months ago she snapped at him for getting a simple algebra equation wrong due to lack of sleep. She had been especially patient with him recently, even after their little spat in the hangar, and John wasn’t sure how to process it. A tiny part wanted to resort to anger again because he clearly didn’t deserve her, but the more prevalent parts preferred something like depression or even apathy.

She had been making sure his world didn’t spin off its axis, and John couldn’t even tell her sorry until now.

“EOS, I’m sorry.”

She stopped moving, turned around and let her lights blink yellow for only a moment, “For what, John?”

The man in question waved his hands around in front of his face, lost, confusing her more. With a sigh, he explained, “For a lot of things, but mainly from a few weeks back when we had that argument. I said something that wasn’t okay, and I didn’t have the balls to own up to it until now. So, I’m sorry. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have even been near.”

For a little bit, it was quiet. John waited as the A.I. contemplated his words. Then, she spoke her judgment, “Well, I know you are. You haven’t exactly been working off your butt over nothing, right? Plus, reliable sources say one of the ways guilt manifests is anger. I’ve seen that with the rest of your family. It would make sense yours would too.”

John blinked. Part of him was expecting her to not fully understand why he was apologizing, but the other wanted her to just so he could get over this, just so he could let go of even just the teeniest amount of guilt he had, “EOS, anger isn’t a valid excuse. What I said was wrong. I don’t believe those words and you shouldn’t either. The whole point of this partnership is to show you that there’s more to life than just calculations and probabilities. It’s kind of hard to see that when the one person who promised to be different went and screwed it up anyway.”

John hoped EOS was at least questioning things now instead of letting his words go in one ear and out the other. Her next words said she was doing exactly the latter, “Okay. I don’t disagree with you, John, but I don’t know why you’re so hooked on this. I understand. We don’t have to worry about this unnecessarily anymore.”

Yes, you do understand. That’s the fucking point.

They weren’t getting anywhere, yet John didn’t even have the energy to groan in annoyance. He could even get his eyebrow to twitch.

All he could do was simply lean his head back against the wall and let his hair stick up against it like static electricity was flowing through it. The real reason it was sticking up was probably due to a mixture of Zero-Gs and grease from all of the showering he hasn’t been doing, however. His eyes had deep rings around them, and for a second, EOS thought about how relative age could be as a number while John softly spoke, “The Hood was an angry man, too, you know. He felt slighted by our family and wanted us to feel the same. It still doesn’t make what he did right.”

EOS thought about his words before coming to a logical conclusion, “Well, that’s certainly a leap in logic. There’s a big gap between simply yelling because you’re annoyed and literal kidnapping. One gives people a sour mood, the other gives them a significant amount of jail--”

“Yes, EOS, I’m aware of that,” John brought his hand to his face, but underneath it was a grin, telling the world that he was feeling fond exasperation more than anything. EOS was more obtuse than him sometimes. It was one of the few things of himself he wished she didn’t copy so easily. He sighed and brought his hand back down, “I’m just... putting things into perspective. I want you to see why my words were wrong. It would make me feel better if you did.”

EOS hung still, letting John’s admission roll over her wiring like a wave of electricity, “You have a lot of needs and wants. What takes precedent?”

More inflection. This time, John welcomed it. It gave him something to stand on. John wanted a lot of things. Alan to be home safe and sound, Dad to have not disappeared for nearly a decade, for his brothers to stop slowly killing themselves, for himself to stop, but the needs of the many, even the needs of one, outweigh the wants of a singular man like him, but, “Well, needs obviously, they’re necessary, however… it’s okay to be selfish every once in a blue moon. It doesn’t make you inherently bad.”

It was advice he parroted many-a-times to his family, some of them more often than others, seldom to himself if at all.

Scott, it’s okay if you have to tell them you can’t make this business conference.

Virgil, you can count inventory in the morning. You didn’t get any sleep last night either.

Gordon, if you can’t smile for a day or two, that doesn’t make you a bad person.

Kayo, you don’t have to patrol every night. We have security cams for a reason.

Alan, I know we tease you, but you missing a chore or two isn’t the end of the world.

Grandma, you already do enough for us, you barely cooking for us is the least of our worries.

That last one might be more for the rest of his family than not, but hey, two birds and one stone. Keeping his back against the wall, John stood up straighter against it, face suddenly serious, “In fact, wanting to be selfish is one of the best ways to tell that you’re human. You can’t escape it. It only becomes bad when you end up only being that.”

EOS sat in silence, her lens flickering in that way it always does when she was signifying she was about to pass judgment like a Goddess, which she seemed to be doing a lot more recently, “Well then… If I’m allowed one moment of self-reprieve, I suppose I should say that those words did… hurt.”

John grimaced despite very much understanding that he deserved it. The return of the inflection didn’t exactly help. Pushing himself away from the wall, he felt the metaphorical weight fall off his shoulders, “Yes, they did, and while they weren’t okay, it is okay to say that they weren’t. I still am very sorry.”

EOS adjusted her camera, probably to stall for time, “I know you are, John. I still forgive you, but am I correct in assuming I’m allowed some time to… recover isn’t the word I’m looking for, but--”

“Yes, EOS,” John helped her explain her own point, “Recover is a good word. You’re allowed that if you want it.”

John wasn’t sure how, but it seemed like EOS visibly relaxed, “Thank you, then, for letting me do that. This.”

For some reason, John did too, “Of course.”

It was a soft kind of awkward silence, where both parties had something on their mind but they weren’t entirely sure if they wanted to say it out loud. This is why EOS appreciated John more than the others, he simply let silence be silence. It allowed her time to think, unlike how Scott and Virgil kept asking questions, or how that awful duo made noises and messes only to have a chance at making people laugh. As if that was the most important thing they needed to do.

The nights the youngest called John were endless with his constant babbling that tended to grate her circuit boards. The only reason she let it happen was that John seemed to loosen up at the interaction. He became less weary, less worried-filled. He seemed to greatly enjoy the audial presence of Alan Tracy, let alone the way he lit up when the youngest actually showed up in person. It was just unfortunate that it seemed like the kid could never keep his mouth shut.

Then again… from what John said, the whole reason there wasn’t any more Alan was because he did keep it shut. At the worst moment possible. Now there wouldn’t be any more babbling period. Alan was gone, and the whole family was suffering from the new silence. EOS reasoned it was from the general idea of forced silence instead of just freely being able to leave the room or being able to tell him to quiet down, but maybe it was more than that. She could make another list of options to consider.

Plus, it was weird to think about a future where all of those video game walkthroughs she was forced to save would never be used again. John insisted that they weren’t just wastes of megabytes, so...

Hmm.

“Could you…” EOS trailed off, and before John could comprehend the unusual behavior of the A.I., she started speaking again, “Could you tell me more about Alan? I’m starting to think I judged him rather harshly.”

John took a moment to register her words and promptly snorted, “Well, most of your assumptions about him aren’t entirely unfounded, but that’s one of the joys of being an older sibling, I guess. Surprises around every corner,” there was regret in her voice and John knew he had to treat this as gently as he would a newborn child otherwise he would never hear it again.

EOS flickered, “I thought you didn’t like surprises.”

Uh, “Well, not usually, but there are a few from time to time that I could look back on and call them… quaint, in a sense.” Suddenly, a memory resurfaced, and John found himself grinning like he was doped up on nitrous oxide, “Yeah, they can have good surprises occasionally…”

It was a week before his next rotation. Scott would be back home in about three days, which allowed the second born to actually have a few moments with his only older brother. He was looking forward to it just as much as Scott was. Right now, though, he had to make sure he got the right angle.

Right as he did, he heard the soft pitter-patter of footsteps come up the ladder, and when he turned around, he was met with a bundle of freckles, “Oh, hey Alan.”

Hi, Johnny, the kid squirmed out, Is it okay if I sit next to you?

At first, a list of things wanted to fill John’s head. You look dead on your feet, you should be asleep, you have a lot going on this week so why are you wasting sleep? but instead of any of those filling the void that was his brain, John simply nodded, “Yeah, sure, come pop a squat, Sprout.”

John looked away right before he could watch Alan’s nose wrinkle in displeasure. Despite the usage of the nickname (that Alan secretly liked, don’t think you could pull that wool over our eyes, little bro), the kid still toddled over and flopped himself down right next to his older brother. Sighing, the kid leaned his head on John’s arm and absentmindedly stared out into space, both figuratively and literally. Satisfied his brother was comfy, John went back to his current objective.

As John examined the night sky, he also carefully looked over Alan out of the corner of his eye. Every bruise that John could see was finally dulling out into that familiar greyish-yellow as bruises do, and the sight was enough to calm any negative emotion being created from the reminder. John refocused on his telescope to help as well.

The kid had been through one hell of a week, bullies being their typical selves. Every Tracy outside of Scott and Gordon had their fair share of their own experiences with nasty people, and it wasn’t even the first time they’ve left their special kind of blue-and-black marks, but seeing it on Alan was… worse, somehow. Virgil had unsavory anonymous notes at ‘best’, and John knew first hand that their hits bruised more than just physical skin. So to see Alan get the same treatment and not say anything...

John was starting to understand why his older brother greyed so easily.

Speaking of which, Scott was pretty peeved at the idea of not being there for Alan. Because of this, John made sure to be the sole one to call him and inform him of the awful news while the older brother was out at his designated Air Force base. John wanted to see with his own two eyes that Scott wouldn’t do anything rash and made himself liable to be put on some kind of list.

You would think he wouldn’t be that stupid, but the Tracys are known for breaking expectations over their sweet, sweet kneecaps.

(“Scott, you’re not going to steal an Air Force jet just to come and beat up some dumb kids.”

“Watch me.”

“They’re only a year older than Alan.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose, “Listen, we already scarred them enough as it is, let alone their expulsions. Grandma’s threats to the adults were liable for a government-mandated therapist, Virgil just being there had them running for the hills, the computer I was sporting sent chills down their spines and throughout the hallways, and that’s not even to mention Gordon’s threats to the kids themselves. Seriously, where would a 15-year-old even get the tools to do that?”

Scott visibly relaxed at John’s point, but he still sat a little taut, not fully accepting the idea of people being cruel enough to hurt a literal ray of sunshine, “Fine, fine, I still want to talk to the kid over a call at some point. He was the one who dealt with those idiots.”

John’s shoulders deflated, “Yeah, you got me there. He’ll be back with Virgil and Gordon soon enough, you can see him then.”

Scott smiled in a way that washed away the greys in his hair, if only for a moment, “Awesome, I--”

John wasn’t completely done, “But I’m going to be with Alan while you talk to him. I don’t trust you to not be in search-and-destroy mode, and the last thing Alan needs is an angry you with no buffer. Besides, I’m pretty sure we have the same questions. I can play the angsty-Scott translator tonight. Usual fee, 10 bucks each word.”

The groan that managed to fill the whole house despite the tiny speakers was one John would never forget.)

Too lost in thought, John didn’t catch Alan’s movements at first. Leaning away from his telescope, John focused on Alan, “Sorry, Allie, did you say something?”

The child simply shrugged and smushed his chubby cheeks against John’s side, shaking his head, followed by his hands, I just wanted to see what you were doing.

Ah, that made sense. Alan had been continuously signing for the past year because of the obvious, so John rolled with the punches. It was always funny when they talked about these years in the future. Alan talked, Alan said, Alan brought up: it was always metaphorical, and nobody could believe them when they said Alan was fluent in ASL, let alone because he could actually go half a day without talking.

It was ironic because even with no words, Alan still managed to be the loudest thing on the planet. His hands always screamed with excitement whenever he felt like ‘talking’, and no brother ever felt like shutting him up. Especially when it was so easy for Alan to simply not shake his hands to hide the fact that he was in trouble--

Right, don’t go there. John shook his head to bring himself out of his thoughts and replied to the non-verbal admission, “Just looking at the stars. Recording their coordinates and whatnot.”

A small gasp had John jerking immediately away from his scope to see Alan suddenly very worried, maybe even fearful, But won’t you lose your eyes?!

Aha, what? “Allie, you’re going to have to give me more than that.”

John almost didn’t catch what Alan was trying to explain with the way he frantically shook his hands even faster than before, Mrs. Gatsen explained to us that the sun was a star too, but we’re not allowed to look at it for too long because it’ll steal our eyes! I don’t want you to lose your eyes, Johnny!

Ohoho, the part of John’s brain that was all about the smartsy stuff was gearing up to have a full-blown seminar of sorts, but the way the kid seemed so sincere in his worry, in his fear, John felt partially bad for giggling instead, “Oh, Allie, no. Here,” John was activating his inner Virgil and Scott with the way he grabbed the youngster and placed him in his lap, “Yes, the sun is a star, but there are many kinds of stars. Most of which don’t hurt your eyes. Take a look.”

Alan gave one last sentimental look at John, who nodded again just to reassure the blonde before the boy gulped and put his eye against the tool like Johnny did. This time, the gasp that came from him was more magical, more child-like, as it always should be. John watched on as the kid became stuck to his telescope like glue.

Suddenly, Alan leaned back into John, somewhat knocking the wind out of him. Honestly, now that he was thinking about it, John realized he was pushing it by letting Alan sit next to him in terms of his personal comfort zone. He loved Allie just as much as the rest of the family, but letting them in, letting them get close, was veering dangerously close to that specific ‘hug’ territory like he and his parents had.

Before John could explain that in a child-friendly way, and hopefully in a way where the too-smart-for-his-own-good kid couldn’t pick up on the hidden message, Alan looked him directly in the eyes and confidently signed his wants, Can we do this more often? Can we?

Just like that, John’s mind blanked. Alan wanted to do something with him. Not swim with Gordon, not music with Virgil, not do, well, anything with Scott, Allie found something that he would like to do with John.

Huh, interesting, “Yeah, sure. If we can’t do it in the next week, then the first thing we’ll do when I come down is stargaze, because that’s what it’s called: stargazing.”

Alan started gripping his arm tighter and leaned more into his chest, nodding vigorously at the news and looking back to the sky with newfound wonder. Letting Alan be, abruptly forgetting his grievances with things like touch, John went back to his telescope. After another minute or so, John reached a point where he needed both sides of his body, except it looked like one of them was going to be kept immobile unless the spaceman said something to Alan.

John tried doing just that, just without looking away from his device, “Hey, Allie, I don’t mind the sitting-in-my-lap and stuff, but I do need my arm back to--”

Snoring.

Oh.

Jerking his head to physically look at his sibling, John found Alan passed out and squeezing his arm like a freckled koala bear. The ginger flinched a little bit at the drool dripping onto his sleeve, but the way Allie melted into him made him-- actually, he was very suddenly aware that this whole night he hadn’t really been thinking at all, and that thought made him continue to stare mindlessly at the dozing brother.

He always thought about, well, everything. What he was going to say, what he planned to do tomorrow, about what the future held now that they were down their second and last parent. If he didn’t think about it beforehand, he rarely did it. He had to make sure he went through all of his options before haphazardly jumping into the pits of hell.

Yet the way his younger brother looked at him like he was the world himself tonight made John throw all of his training to be as cautious as possible out the window in a need to comfort and care for the small thing in front of him.

It was shocking to his mind, yet he didn’t resent just being able to do without worrying too much. Was this how smother complexes started? Did he ever drool on Scott’s arm? Still staring at Alan, John’s mind continued to be robotic as he simply let his younger brother be and went back to his telescope. Alan had been needing to get a little more sleep lately anyway.

Yeah, it was fine. He could figure out how to follow up on his words later. It wouldn’t be that hard to figure out a way to squeeze Alan into some of his already-planned stargazing nights while making sure the kid still got sleep. Also, John’s used telescopes wearing a cast and sling before, he might prefer two arms, but he has been okay with only one.

If Grandma yelled at John for spending too much time on the roof again, well, she would have to get over it. Alan got an extra hour of sleep and that was all that mattered.

EOS watched as John finished the story. Once he was done, he continued to be quiet while grinning at nothing. All he was doing was simply staring at the floor… It was slightly creepy, and EOS cleared her nonexistent throat, “Huh, I didn’t realize he got a lot of his interests from you. Maybe… maybe you could show me why he did. He can too. More perspectives always get more data.”

John blinked and was immediately taken out of his trance. He brought his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat, “Yeah, he-- wait, what?”

EOS sighed. This is another reason why she snapped him out of it; his inability to listen to someone right in front of him. She simplified her words, “If Alan comes back, can you two take me stargazing? I don’t think I’ve ever seen what the stars look like down there, or, at least, I never looked at them long enough to understand what you all find to be so fascinating about them.”

John blinked a few more times with his mouth slightly gaped. He looked around nervously before bringing his turquoise eyes to look EOS directly in the middle of her camera, “Yeah, sure, EOS. When Alan gets back, that’s the first thing we’ll do.”

EOS didn’t mention anything about the correction of if to when, “Thank you, John, I would like that very much.”

John nodded and floated back to his tech, “Of course. Now then, we’ve got work to do. I’ve been meaning to stargaze recently anyway.”

He still had one more day up here.

And a baby brother who needed saving.

How hard could it be?

---

Very.

Growling in frustration, he thumped his fist against the wall next to him rather harshly.

Not enough to leave any kind of mark or dent, but enough for him to focus on the tiny amount of pain it gave him. He vaguely heard EOS’s lens flare at the sudden noise, but he was a little too focused on why he felt the need to hit his girl.

It was the end of the last day, and he didn’t make it any further like he thought he would.

Some bleak part of his mind was hoped, prayed that his girl would have the tools to find their baby brother. He was willing to bend her entire satellite to be able to reach the far ends of the galaxy if he had to, but even he had to concede that she wasn’t enough. The Hood wasn’t dumb, unfortunately, and he wasn’t going to go easy on them. That is if he was even going “to go” on them to start with.

While it wasn’t the first time he failed spectacularly, this failure certainly hurt the worst.

Half of him wanted to curl up into a ball and forget everything for a moment (or maybe forever), but the other half won out in terms of what his body contorted into. Instead of curling up like a prickly hedgehog, he leaned backward to be floating with his back to the ground and his face to the ceiling with his face in his hands. Meanwhile, EOS silently gazed from her camera in the corner. Watching John struggle this way was… new, and it twisted her wires in a way she wasn’t sure she could describe.

EOS watched him mumble something. Huh, peculiar as ever. Adjusting her camera, she tried small talk, “What was that, John?”

Still mumbles, but more intelligible, “... I need to drop the ‘s’.”

A flicker of yellow, nothing but pure confusion for once in her robotic life, “The ‘s’ of what?”

Suddenly, the astronaut was standing (well, floating) upright with a look of disdain, but EOS could see that it wasn’t meant for her, “Of ‘she’. It’s not ‘Five’s fault, God, it never is, but maybe… maybe it’s mine.”

All of her programs should allow her to say something. Anything, sugarcoated or not, would be beneficial to this seemingly one-sided conversation, but this was the moment she learned that humans could be faster than computers since John steamrolled right to the point without hesitation, “He wasn’t good enough sounds better. Nothing I’m doing is getting any results. I gave my family false hope that I would find something and now I have to go to them and essentially break them. They were already barely holding it together as it was, but when the “smart one” in their family says there’s nothing he can do…”

She found herself going against the logical part of her program-- because despite the idiot John Tracy could be, when he made an argument that had any kind of evidence you never could go against it-- the first time in, well, ever, in an attempt to comfort her partner, “John… I think you’re grasping at straws here.”

He looked up from the floor, and EOS had to shrink her lens at the sight of unshed tears in his eyes, “Who was the one that called him?! Me! He was standing there only a few rooms over, probably terrified out of his mind, and I didn’t know. I let him slip between our fingers because I was so caught up in the moment and I hate myself for it.”

EOS found herself speechless for once, and the few droplets of tears that floated in front of John’s face didn’t help. She had been trying her best recently, especially recently, to understand the fluctuations of human emotion, and she was pretty sure she had decent tabs on at least John nowadays, but this was something unexpected, a thing her programming never really liked to deal with. It involved lots of new calculations and new sims, why, it made things seconds longer when they didn’t have the time to deal with it!

Her electronic voice box made a noise with the intent to say something, as she thought she finally had the time to deal with it, but just her luck, more unexpected things made her reapproach the issue at hand, “John, look out! The Chaos Crew!”

Blinking out of his self-deprecation train, John was uncharacteristically panicking, “What, where?” After doing a full 180, John eventually saw one of his comm radios with the familiar pink symbol floating above it.

John’s pupils shrunk and his eyebrows tilted downward in that unfamiliar emotion: anger.

Fuck this.

The mood change was as fast as the speed of lightning. John practically flung himself to the communication device on something akin to a warpath. No longer regretful or depressed, John was filled to the brim with fury at the sight of one of the men that was a constant thorn in the Tracy family’s side, “What the hell are you doing here? How the hell did you--”

“Wait wait wait!” Fuse pleaded, making John momentarily pause enough to listen, “I’m not good at this like my sister is, so this connection is going to drop soon. I need you to reopen the line yourself so I can explain what I’m here for! Trust me, I swear I’m not--”

Zip.

Blinking at the lack of noise, John slowly turned his head to look at his A.I. to get her opinion on the matter. It wasn’t a positive one, that’s for sure. Her dots were bright red, and for the first time in a while, he found himself flinching at the sight and sound of her, “It wouldn’t take much of me to get rid of the nuisance, you know.”

Taking a few deep breaths, John shook his head, “No, EOS, give me a sec. Don’t send him careening into space.”

Yet.

With shaky hands, John did as Fuse begged and found the comm line the guy haphazardly threw together. Right as Fuse jumped at the sight of one of the Tracys actually hearing him out, John’s voice spoke coldly, “You have five minutes. Go.”

Fuse gulped, “W-Well, I suppose the first thing to do would be to apologize. I’ve caused a lot of messes for you and your family-- heh, ‘messes’ probably doesn’t even come close to explaining what I did-- and I realize that now, so I want to--”

Ah, that tactic. The one where they try so desperately to seem like they were repentant. John wasn’t familiar with it, but Scott sure was. Shady business owners trying to shy away from their consequences made the eldest very aware of how slimy those in power could be. Scott complained about it a lot, so John made sure to always remember it just in case he ever ran into it himself.

Preplanning wins again in the Tracy household. You should listen to John’s advice more, Gordon, “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” John muttered mostly to himself and moved in a way that signified something was going to happen.

Fuse sputtered and stopped immediately. Crap, he was going about this wrong. These were all things he was suddenly genuine about, he really was, but the Tracys didn’t want useless apologies at the moment, and he understood that. Hopefully, he didn’t understand it too late. Right before John could do anything to him or give any kind of command to his satellite, Fuse blurted the information he should’ve said the first place, “I know where he is!”

John felt like the Earth flew right off its axis.

Everything froze, including EOS. His hand was out in front of him for some reason, probably subconsciously reaching for some kind of button, as he absentmindedly listened to the whirl of ‘Five and his brain fully processed what Fuse was promising, “... What?”

John was keenly aware that sounding so weak, so hopeful, was something that Fuse could spinelessly abuse if the man wanted to, but John had a good lie detector. The words that fumbled out of half The Chaos Crew’s mouth were sounding good, great, and John could tell that he wasn’t bullshitting anything, “I know where he’s keeping your bro. I mean… shit, what The Hood did wasn’t right, maybe it never was, but I know this specifically is--” a break in his speech in an attempt to words things better. Fuse failed, “Bad. I just…”

John’s head involuntarily tilted at the way Fuse trailed off. For once in his life, John was at a loss. This was highly uncharacteristic from what John had seen of The Chaos Crew, and the astronaut was so flabbergasted he couldn’t even begin to come up with any possible ulterior motive behind Fuse’s actions at the moment.

Suddenly, Fuse looked back up with big eyes, almost reminding John of Alan a little bit. Not in the obvious ways, because Fuse was on the verge of seven feet tall and built like a truck whereas Alan was the teeniest thing on the planet, but… John could see similar traits of innocence in them. The eyes of someone desperately clinging onto the last few shreds of hope they had, but still ready to do what's right because of it. Because even if the light at the end of the tunnel was small it was still worth fighting for.

Fuse, seeing that John wasn’t going to say anything, bit the bullet, “I don’t know, call it selfish, call it smart, but if The Hood is willing to do something like this to someone so young, I… I don’t want to be apart of it. I can’t give any information about my sister, I’m no snitch, but I want out, even if it means spending the rest of my days in a GDF cell.”

John was suddenly aware of a burning question, “Wait, how old are you, Fuse?”

A tired sigh, aging Fuse to something that was probably three times what he was going to say, “I turn 20 in two weeks.”

John sharply inhaled, “Jesus, I… I didn’t realize you were that young.”

A lot of things made sense quickly and abruptly like they always do for the ginger.

If The Hood was willing to do this to someone so young, that didn’t stop him from doing this to someone like Fuse. The logical conclusion the now ‘ex-villain’ made probably danced the wildest jig in his head, and before anyone could clap their hands, he got as far away as possible. John wouldn’t be surprised if The Hood made idle threats for not following orders or for “being stupid”, so Fuse had every right to feel threatened.

Jeez, he was probably terrified at the implication. A dark, buried part of John selfishly thought good, it sucks you had to learn the hard way, but now you see why we all hate him, but the first thing that came to his mind was something unexpected yet expected all the same.

John was reminded of Alan again.

Except Alan had four older brothers to run to when the monsters got too big or too frightening.

…

Scott was going to kill him, “Park her over on the left and come in. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Bring inside whatever you think will help.”

EOS’s shrill John! ringed throughout the room, yet it was overruled swiftly. Fuse’s mouth was wide open, “For real?”

John couldn’t tell if he was losing the knots in his stomach or forming completely new ones, “Yes. Don’t do anything funny, though. I have eyes everywhere.”

Fuse gulped again, yet he was very business-like with his next words, “Of course.”

The line cut a millisecond before John wanted it to. John knew exactly why, “Listen, EOS--”

EOS was suddenly in his face, and it spoke miles at how far she’s come that she wasn’t blaring any alarms in anger, “No, you listen, John Tracy. I cannot believe the level of ignorance you are displaying!”

Gordon always joked about her being his daughter, but right now, John’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance at the feeling of being scolded by an overbearing mother, “I get this may seem like I’ve lost it--” jokes on EOS, who says he hasn’t at this point? “Listen, there’s nothing else left to go off of, and I know this makes me look like a crazy man desperate for information that might not even be there, but--”

“No buts!” EOS shrieked, “You told me that if you followed a sentence with a “but” that what you were about to say shouldn’t even be considered an option! What is making you throw all of my training out the window?!”

John’s mouth became very dry. This conversation was taking a very different turn, “Wait, EOS, why is this all about you suddenly--”

John was starting to regret giving her more mobility at the sight of her jamming her camera directly in his face even more, “It’s not just about me! This affects you too! You said you always based your decisions on the here-and-now, so I should too, so why am I the only one doing so?! You’ve seen what he’s capable of!”

John’s mind tended to be made of gears, and all of them began spinning at the same time. Dammit, he didn’t pick up on this because he didn’t even consider it a factor: EOS being scared. Hell, it wasn't even considered because the last time he remembered her being this scared was when she thought he was a threat during the first time they met (was it really that long ago?). She was scared that Fuse was going to hurt John like he hurt the rest of the astronaut’s family. Like he hurt Gordon.

The only difference is that nobody could get to John like they did Gordon, so that left the ginger at an impasse if the small chance that Fuse was here to hurt him came true.

John found it very hard to breathe all of a sudden. Closing his eyes and struggling to get enough air in, he realized a fundamental problem. EOS was based on data and things that have been recorded, and so far, the only things recorded about Fuse was that he was hellbent on hurting the Tracy family, a family that John was apart of.

She didn’t know any other way to feel about the guy, she didn’t have any other example.

John would love to be that way too, honestly, to just focus on the data. Numbers never tended to be wrong, and the idea of being a simple number-crunching bot would make life a shit-ton easier, but he can’t. He’s human. One that’s very much willing to go against the numbers and probabilities if it meant helping his family.

A rarity for John, to follow his gut and nothing else, but at the end of the day, he was a Tracy, and following his gut was as familiar to him as it was to name all of the immediate constellations in the summer’s nighttime sky, “EOS, I know it’ll be hard to believe me, hell, I’m having trouble believing myself, but Fuse isn’t here to hurt me. The here-and-now is different for reasons I don’t have enough time to properly explain, okay? If there’s anything to believe, believe in the trust you have in me to make the right decision like I always do.”

EOS made no noise, not even a flicker of her lens. He expected her usual sass, something along the lines of, Who says I trust you, moron? but what he got punched away what little air he managed to collect, “... Do you promise?”

That was the million-dollar question. Of course, he couldn’t. He didn’t like making promises after the age of 12. Too many probabilities, too many what-ifs, made promises somewhat of a theoretical impossibility. But just like that night on the roof with Alan, John was able to not think, “I promise, EOS. You wanted to go stargazing with me and Alan, right? Fuse might be able to let us do that again.”

‘Family’ was a Wild Card. Nothing was possible, yet everything was at the same time when it came down to it. ‘Family’ was what made Scott go from day to day without keeling over. ‘Family’ was what got Virgil to sleep at night when he just couldn’t by himself. ‘Family’ was how Gordon managed to keep smiling and joking despite everything in the world trying to make him stop. Hell, ‘Family’ was how their father kicked the word impossible right in the groin and live.

‘Family’ might have been why Alan was stuck in such a shitty situation, but it was also the reason the kid was willing and able to go that far in the first place. He learned that selflessness from his ‘Family’, after all.

John was intent to use that fact to the fullest.

EOS’s lights blinked in contemplation before she quietly spoke once more, “Do I have permission to shock him if he makes even the slightest suspicious movement?”

John rolled his eyes yet grinned all the same, “Sure, only just a little voltage, though. Right in the ass. Would be a nice pick-me-up after all of this.”

Well, despite the year they’ve had, John wasn’t aware EOS could snort. Another sign things might be going right for once.

The door swwwshed open and Fuse floated into where the two hyper-intelligent beings were hanging about and got straight to the point, “Thank you. I hope… I hope I don’t let you down.”

John found himself light as air, and it wasn’t just the zero-gravity this time, “Sounds good. Let’s get cracking.”

While the first thing he did back on Earth was scare his father and his immediate younger brother shitless, the way they and the rest of the family lit up at the plan he and Fuse came up with (after making sure nobody killed the dude, which was surprisingly more difficult than expected, and boy was it expected) made it all worth it.

Well, maybe the sight of Fuse occasionally jumping and yelping at a strange pinch in his bottom with no known cause was worth it too. John wouldn’t tell his brothers that, though, he was the responsible one, remember?

You always made me look at things differently, EOS. Thank you.

[phoenixmakeswords]

100 Follower Celebration--Part 1

That’s right. Part one. I’m horrible with decisions, so I’m giving y’all more than one thing. To start things off, here’s the first chapter of the dragon shifter thing. Enjoy!

The sound of human voices downstairs both alarms me and reawakens my hunger. I was human once. But now I'm the monster in the dark, the thing that goes bump in the night.

I move silently through the rickety old house that’s become my prison. I want to see these foolish, stupid humans. Don’t they know what this house is? Haven’t they heard the legends of a fairy tale come true? Don’t they know I eat people like them? They’ll see the bones of the others soon enough. The would-be heroes come to slay the vicious dragon. Of course I ate them; I don’t particularly feel like dying.

I stick to the shadows on the second floor. The house is mostly shadows now; they’re where I blend in.

Five human men sit on the battered, dusty red couch in the living room. They’re not armed. Or not that I can see, and I can see quite well.

“It’s an urban legend. Nobody’s ever seen a dragon,” one of them snaps in exasperation. He has a strident voice that grates on my nerves. I might eat him first just so I don’t have to hear his voice again.

“What’re we gonna do if it’s not a legend? Hope it doesn’t eat us?” one of the dark-haired ones retorts. Three of the five have dark hair. I don’t like this one either. I don’t appreciate being called an it. I am a him, thank you very much.

“Ah, but the legend says the dragon was sent here by its mother. Doesn’t it? Because she caught him with another boy. All we have to do is catch the beast.”

I’ve heard enough. I don’t need a reminder of my past. They don’t know the whole story. Nor do they deserve to.

I wasn’t sent here by my mother. She brought me here to protect me. She loved me.

I slink to the top floor. I like it better up here; it’s sunnier. I like sunning myself on the wood floor.

I miss being human sometimes. If I were human, I’d probably be friends with those guys downstairs. I miss being outside in the sunlight; I can only go out at night to hunt so no one sees me. I miss ice cream and not eating raw meat. I was vegetarian before this. The worst part of all of this is not knowing if I can ever be human again.

I stretch out in the sunny spot on the floor. The warm sunlight feels good. I might even go back to sleep.

I think what I miss the most is the boy I fell for when I was still human. I wonder often what happened to him. If he’s happy. If he found some guy who loves him as much as I did. As much as I still do.

He’d run away screaming if he saw me now, I think sadly, resting my chin on one of my forelegs.

Once the sun goes down, I’ll hunt. I don’t want to eat the humans downstairs unless I don’t have an option.

Their voices carry upstairs, though I try to tune them out. Until I hear Aaron’s familiar smoky voice. The sun seems just a little brighter. He’s still alive. He’s here. I can at least see him again, though he won’t know who I am. To him, I’ll just be a monster.

I creep stealthily back downstairs. I just want a glimpse of him.

I flatten myself along the wall where I'm hidden. Where I'm safe.

He’s chatting with the one who called me an it. He doesn’t sound happy.

“Look, just because I don’t know the story, doesn’t mean we have to kill him if he exists. He might not be dangerous! Have you thought of that? He might have been defending himself,” Aaron shouts irritably. His eyes sparkle like Fourth of July fireworks with his anger.

My stomach sinks at his words. They’re planning on killing me. I haven’t done anything to them, but they’ve already decided on my death. Why shouldn’t I decide on theirs? Why should I bother trying to give them a chance and be less of a monster when they’re not going to do the same thing?

I don’t realize I moved away from the wall until I see Aaron’s eyes fix on me. I'm dead. I'm a dead dragon.

I slink back to my lair. I need to plot. The sun’s just started to set when they find the bones in the kitchen. All it does is give them more ammo against me. Make them want my death more.

I’ll bide my time. They’ll attack. And I’ll be eating good for a while. Except for Aaron. I won’t hurt him. I can’t. No matter what he does to me, I’ll die before I hurt him.

I wait until the stars have made an appearance and things are quiet in the house before making my way to the window. It takes more effort on my part than it should to work the window open; I don’t exactly have opposable thumbs right now and the window frame is swollen with rain.

The night air feels good on my face.

I clamber gracefully onto the metal steps. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to spread my wings like this. I don’t hunt often. Probably not as often as I should anyway. It’s been a couple weeks since I last did this.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to flying. I hope I never do. It’s incredibly freeing. The wind in my face. The moonlight on my back. The steady beat of my wings. I love it. It might be the one thing about being a dragon I enjoy.

I stay away from the town when I hunt. Away from the lights. I don’t want to be seen.

It isn’t long before I spot the deer. They’re grazing peacefully in a farmer’s field near New Hebron. They don’t run when they smell me. They should.

I take two of the smaller ones. They’ll keep me from starving for a couple more weeks. I don’t like doing this, but I can’t eat grass. I’ve tried. Tried eating a tree too; all I got for that was a splinter between my teeth.

I’m sorry, I think, nudging the bones away from the road. I know coyotes and other scavengers will come investigate and I don’t want them to be hit by a car.

I have humans in my lair when I get back. A low growl tears from my throat when I see the variety of weapons they bear: Knives; guns; pipes, and a baseball bat. Aaron is the only one unarmed.

“Don’t do this,” he pleads, stepping between his friends and me. “He hasn’t tried to hurt us. Why provoke him?”

“He’s a monster! Just look at him!” Strident Voice retorts, gesturing at me with his free hand. Tail whipping angrily, I huff in response. “Did you miss the bones?”

“Maybe he didn’t mean to. Do we have to hurt him? If we leave him alone, maybe we can coexist.” Aaron, ever the peacemaker. That worked out real well for him when my dad caught us together. Worked out real well for both of us. At least Aaron didn’t turn into a monster.

I stretch my neck out and rest my head lightly on his shoulder. He smells just like I remember: Axe Phoenix, leather, and mint. His heart rate skyrockets at the contact.

“See? He could tear my head off right now but he’s not.”

He makes me feel a tiny bit more human. He’s good at that.

“He’s just waiting for you to let your guard down,” Pipe Dude #1 spits, inching closer.

He swings the pipe at my neck. Snarling, I catch the pipe in my teeth and jerk it from his grasp. I don’t want to hurt him, but I will if he pushes me.

I straighten to my full height, a low growl rumbling in my chest. They should run.

“See? How are we supposed to renovate this stupid house with him here?” Pipe Dude #1 demands.

“Why can’t we? He wasn’t hurting us before. He’s only upset now because you attacked him. Anyone would be.”

The last time Aaron defended me, we had been making out on my bed when my dad walked in on us. He tried to take the fall. He got between us when my dad started screaming at me. I stepped in when my dad punched him. It made things worse for me because how dare I defend my boyfriend. The last time I saw Aaron, his nose was bleeding from my dad’s fist. He hasn’t changed.

Purring, I bump my snout against his head gently. Even if I’m never human again, I want to enjoy this moment.

As much as I want to eat his friends, I won’t because it will hurt him. I can’t hurt him. I’m not that much of a monster. I still slink into the hall to watch them in the morning. It’s becoming my favorite hobby. Except it might get me killed.

I listen to their renovation plans. Apparently, they’re planning on selling it once they get done. Again, my death is brought up. Like it’s the only thing that matters. I don’t want to die.

“We’re not killing him,” Aaron sighs in exasperation.

I think I might love him just a little bit more for that.

“He was supposed to be a freaking myth,” Strident Voice snaps.

“What was the rest of the legend anyway? I haven’t heard it before.”

“So, five years ago, this guy, Leo Something-Or-Other brought a guy home. Things were getting pretty hot and heavy between them when Leo’s parents found out. They weren’t too thrilled about their son being gay. They flipped out and their hatred is what made Leo turn into a dragon.” He sounds skeptical but he’s closer to the truth than I’m comfortable with.

Aaron’s face is unreadable as he rakes a hand through his chestnut curls. I wish I knew what he’s thinking.

“That’s interesting,” Aaron says finally.

[gundamthey17]

Klancetober Day 3

Once again I should be asleep, but here it is.  This one has more of a “plot” than the first two, so that’s something.

Edit: Just figured out how to make a “read more” tab.  Lol, whoops! Please forgive me! (This is my longest one so far too. I’m so sorry.)

Exploring Spooky Places

“This is a bad idea,” Hunk whimpered.

“You’ve said that.  Twelve times,” Pidge deadpanned.  “If we didn’t listen to you the first eleven times, do you really think saying it again is going to change anything?”

“No.  I just want it to be stated, for the record, that I am against this plan.  That way, when I get gruesomely murdered by a vengeful ghost, and you’re being interviewed by reporters, you can all cry and say how much I warned you not to do this, but nooo, you wouldn’t listen to me!”

“Duly noted, Hunk!” Lance called, far too loud and cheerful for the situation.

Armed with only flashlights and their wits, the group of six friends were embarking on a hazardous late night journey into a local graveyard, which was believed to be haunted.  It was, of course, Lance’s idea.  Convincing Allura and Pidge to come along had been easy: Allura loved the thought of a thrilling adventure and was excited to possibly commune with spirits. Pidge thought the haunting was “total bullcrap”, and was bringing along several scientific instruments to prove once and for all that ghosts didn’t exist.  (“You can’t prove a negative, Pidge.”  “Shut up!  I can prove that this particular graveyard isn’t haunted.”)  Keith was next on the list, and convincing him was far easier than Lance had imagined. When he asked, Keith merely gave a bored shrug and muttered, “I don’t have any plans tonight.”  

Lance had initially wanted to keep the venture a secret from Shiro, but Keith refused to lie when Shiro texted to ask if they wanted to watch a movie.  When Shiro found out where they were going, he insisted he come along as “supervision.” (So he claimed, but if his bright eyes and barely suppressed grin were any indication, Shiro was just as excited as Allura.)

Which just left Hunk.  Lance knew Hunk would never want to come along, but if their time in the Garrison taught him anything about his friend, it was that Hunk would easily cave to peer pressure.  And so he had, and here they were.  

They parked their cars and bikes in the visitor parking lot and began the long trek to the mausoleum at the center of the graveyard.  The whole place was supposedly haunted, but the mausoleum had the most superstitions surrounding it.  If they were going to meet any ghosts tonight, that would be the place.  The dirt path was narrow and poorly maintained.  Pidge had insisted they bring only red-tinted flashlights, so as not to ruin their night vision, and the dim bulbs were of little help.

“Watch your step,” Shiro warned.  “I don’t want to have to carry anybody out of here if you twist an ankle.”

It was well after midnight, and there was no moon.  The whole area was pitch dark except for the flashlights trained on the path in front of them.  And it was quiet. They were far enough from the city that any ambient noise had faded beyond hearing.  The trees were still.  No bats swooped in the air, no crickets chirped.  Six pairs of shoes scraped the ground, and that was all.

Shiro took the lead, with Allura and Pidge directly behind him. Hunk insisted he stay in the middle, which left Keith and Lance to bring up the rear.  “So,” Lance whispered, “do you think we’ll see any ghosts tonight?”

Keith snorted.  “No. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Yes there are!  I saw one.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Did too!”

“When?”

“When I was a kid.  I was staying at my abuela’s house, just me and her.  We were both downstairs in the kitchen when we heard a violin.  It was coming from upstairs.  When we went to check it out, it stopped.  There was nobody there.  But my abuela told me that it was my abuelo playing, just like he used to when he was alive.”

“What?” Hunk gasped, turning to look at them.  “Okay, that’s really freaky.”

Keith was unimpressed.  “So you didn’t see a ghost.”

“Well, no, but I heard one!  Close enough!”

Allura chimed in, “I think it would be nice if ghosts were real. Loved ones could be watching over you, like your grandfather.  And if they are real, it would mean that we could also have the chance to communicate once we’re gone.”

“There’s no way ghosts exist,” Pidge countered.  “If they did, we would have conclusive evidence of it by now. But there’s nothing.  ‘Orbs’ are just dust caught by a camera’s flash, and EMF readings go crazy in old houses because of all the faulty wiring.”

“What do you think, Shiro?” Keith asked.

Ever the peacemaker, Shiro replied, “I don’t know.  But you’d be surprised how many senior officers at the Garrison are superstitious.  You stay in this line of work long enough, you’re going to encounter something you can’t explain.  Lights in the sky, whispers in the hallway, doors locking and unlocking by themselves. There might be a natural explanation for all of it, but we have no way of knowing one way or the other.  I like to keep an open mind.”

Lance stuck his tongue out at Keith, and Keith gave him an affectionate shove in return.

“There it is!” Pidge whisper-shouted.  “Everybody turn your lights off!”

They all obeyed.  Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as the mausoleum loomed in front of them.  

Hunk was the first to break the silence.  “Okay. Great.  We saw it. Can we go home now?  Preferably before something gets angry and tries to kill us?”

“No way,” Lance said firmly.  “We have to check it out.”  The group naturally split off into pairs: Hunk and Pidge, Shiro and Allura, Keith and Lance.  Pidge turned in a slow circle, holding up a strange device and frowning with intense concentration.  Hunk hovered anxiously nearby.  Shiro and Allura started to walk a circuit around the building.  Keith marched right up to the front door, Lance in tow.

“Should we go inside?”

Lance hesitated.  “I mean… isn’t that trespassing?”

“Are you afraid of the ghosts or the police?”  He turned around before Lance could formulate an answer.  “Look, the door is already ajar. Come on.”

It was even darker inside the mausoleum.  The tiny windows on the walls were useless without any ambient light outside.

“What was that?” Lance gasped, grabbing Keith’s arm tightly.

“What?” Keith replied, sounding more annoyed than scared.

“I heard something move!”

“I didn’t hear anything.  It was probably just a bat or an opossum or something.”

Moving excruciatingly slowly, they ventured further inside. The sound came again, louder this time, and they both froze.  Whatever it was, it was bigger than an opossum.  Much bigger.

“H-hello…?” Lance asked timidly.

“Who’s there?” Keith demanded.

A different sound echoed through the chamber, a low scraping like bone on rock, and something lunged out of the darkness in front of them.

Lance screamed and fell backward in his attempt to make a hasty retreat, but Keith, reacting purely on instinct, moved forward.  His fist connected with something soft and fleshy that definitely wasn’t a ghost.  A familiar sounding grunt preceded a low thud as whatever it was got knocked to the ground.

Things happened very quickly after that.  They heard Shiro calling out to them, “Lance!  Keith!  Are you okay?” By the time their friends had shouldered the door all the way open and made it inside, Keith had retrieved his flashlight and was shining it over a figure who was seated on the ground, wearing dark clothes so as to blend in with the shadows.  The figure looked up with a wheezing laugh.  “Damn, Lance!  Your boyfriend has a mean swing.”

“Ryou?!” Lance cried.

Ryou continued to laugh as his twin moved to stand beside Keith. “What are you doing here?” Shiro demanded.

“Thought I’d scare you guys.  Looks like it worked.”

“How did you even know we were coming here?”

“I looked at your phone while you were in the shower.  You shouldn’t leave it sitting out like that.”

“My phone is locked – “            “With a fingerprint scanner,” Ryou interrupted.  “We have the same fingerprints.”  He grinned as he got slowly to his feet.  “Nice job defending your boyfriend, Keith.”  He patted Keith on the shoulder, and Keith slapped his hand away. “I love that your first instinct is to punch a ghost.”

“I knew you weren’t a ghost,” Keith growled.

“You sure about that?”

“Hey!” Shiro said as Keith clenched his fist.  “Knock it off, Ryou.  You’ve had your fun.”

“That I did.  You okay back there, Hunk?” he called in the direction of the mausoleum door.  “You didn’t piss yourself, I hope?  Somebody’s gotta ride back with you, you know.”

Keith turned away and offered a hand to Lance.  “You okay?”  

“I’m fine. I wasn’t that scared,” Lance said as Keith hauled him to his feet.  He appeared to be unhurt, save for a bruised ego.

“Uh-huh.  Sure you weren’t,” Keith replied.

“I wasn’t!  I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Right.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who thought it would be a smart idea to punch a ghost!”

“He’s not a ghost!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that at the time.”

“Yes I did!”

“You’re willing to punch a ghost for me.  That’s sweet.  Futile and stupid, but sweet.”

“I’m going to lock you in here if you don’t stop.”

Lance grinned and mimed zipping his lips as he scurried ahead of Keith and out of the mausoleum.

[winsister91]

The Bartender

Summary: Written for Taylor's @pheonyxstorm 100 followers challenge! Congrats on the milestone babe! (p.s I’m so sorry this is like two fucking weeks late >_<)

My prompt was bartender! Decided to try a different angle so bear with me here.

Word Count: 1006

Characters: Dean x Reader, Bartender

Warnings: Language, extremey mild angst, fluff, a bit cracky.

A/N: Again, I’m so sorry this lil piece of trash took so long.

My Masterlist!

~ Dean and forever tags are open! ~

Being a bartender puts you in a unique position. The variety of what you witness is actually quite astounding. Bachelor and Bachelorette parties, weddings and funerals, fights and celebrations, it really goes on and on with the possibilities. Yet, believe it or not, this doesn’t affect how monotonous the reality of these situations are. You’re the bartender, you don’t take part, you just serve up the booze and hope nobody destroys the place. Any sign of trouble, get them the hell out of here. You are the authority and the peacemaker.

This position however brings a new element into play. Complete strangers will approach you to spread their joy, get an outside opinion on their dilemmas, get their traumas off their chest, ponder on general life problems, etc. They’ll honestly bare their soul like they’ve known you all their lives. Kind of like being a counsellor I guess? Without the ridiculous hourly rate. It’s a huge responsibility when you think about it. I just try to stay impartial, rather than tell people what to do, I try to help them find the answer within themselves. That way, I can’t be blamed if it goes all tits up frankly.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

The doors swung open, colliding violently into the walls with a harsh bang. Following the crash came a couple, bickering in hushed voices. Slight shoves and elbows to each other, combined with scowls and hisses.

Regulars. Don’t often come in without that ridiculously tall guy. They generally keep to themselves, but I’ve had the odd conversation with them from time to time.

I couldn’t hear them properly, only just making out the conclusion of their exchange as they got closer to the bar.

“Jerk!” Y/N squeaked, thumping Dean’s arm, “Stupid, stubborn, beautiful, god damn...uh...Jerk!”

She turned on her heels and stormed in bathroom’s direction.

“Yeah love you too,” Dean muttered shaking his head before sitting on a vacant stool at the bar, “Beer please.”

“Sure thing Dean,” I nod, unable to hide a slight titter at the recent display, “Falling out?”

“A disagreement, you could say,” Dean narrows his eyes before taking his drink, “A freaking dumb one at that.”

“Can’t be that bad then,” I offered sympathetically, “Nothing too serious.”

“You’d think maybe,” he nodded, before mumbling, “Except this is probably the tenth dumb fight we’ve had this week, and it’s frigging Tuesday.”

He wore the face I’d seen adorned on many guy’s in the past. Tired eyes. Slightly glazed. Brow furrowed. Lips pursed and chapped from nervous bites. A guy worried he might have blown something good, and didn’t even know how.

“But you two have been together like...forever right?” I asked in genuine curiosity, they were practically joined at the hip most of the time.

“We’ve known each other forever,” Dean shrugged, “But together...about a year or so?”

“Really?” I blurt in shock, “I dunno, I just assumed all this time...okay so friends first. That can be complicated.”

“Should it?” Dean takes a deep gulp from the beer bottle, “It should be easy surely. We already know each other. And for me nothing really changed, I always loved her, being with her is… well, it’s only now it’s starting to screw up.”

“So what changed?” I asked him.

“A freaking personality change?” Dean scoffed, “I dunno man. Bitchy comments here and there, little things turning into freak outs. I don’t know what I did.”

“Comments about what?” I questioned, “When did they start?”

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes for a moment, “Since we… kinda moved in together I guess.”

“Right,” I laughed in relief, causing Dean to scowl a little, “I know exactly what’s wrong.”

“Care to share?” Dean shrugged animatedly.

“Honeymoon season is over,” I stated, “Shit’s getting real, and you’re both freaking the fuck out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Dean jolted upright defensively, “She’s freaking out, she’s crazy.”

“Who’s crazy now?” bellowed Y/N’s voice, reappearing to the scene.

“Hey!” Dean raised his hands, all I could do at that moment was fail to hide a chuckle.

“He…” Dean pointed in my direction, “He said, that our Honeymoon period was over.”

“Were you talking about our relationship?” she gasped.

“He said,” Dean answered quickly, “th-that we are both freaking out!”

“You were talking- wait, what?” she stopped mid sentence, “Who’s freaking out? I’m not freaking out!”

Her sudden change of stance was comical, causing me to stifle another chortle.

“And I’m not freaking out either!” Dean chipped in.

“Exactly!” Y/N nodded, “We’re good. Happy.”

“Amazing.”

“Couldn’t be happier.”

“Wouldn’t change anything in the world.”

I raised an eyebrow as I witnessed the slight pause that ensued. Y/N’s face softened with reassurance at each of his words. Dean’s stance relaxing as he watched her smile develop.

Eventually, she seemed unable to hold it in any longer. She needed that one last confirmation.

“Really?” she mumbled sheepishly.

Dean didn’t even need to answer. Playing it off cool with a head tilt and a smirk.

“Thank god,” I heard a faint whisper from her as threw her arms around Dean. They laughed quietly and simply held each other for a moment.

“Did you not even order me a drink?” Y/N giggled, “You can sort that out, and I’ll grab us a pool table.”

“On it,” Dean nodded, “You can prepare to get your ass whipped.”

“That’d be a first,” she taunted, elbowing him playfully before heading to one of the tables with a school girlish grin painted on her face.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

I’m not sure why that simple memory sticks with me. If anything maybe I reacted a bit harshly and gave them a blunt eye opener. That’s just how I am I guess, seeing so many people in the same situations, you get a form of desensitization from it all. But what’s a bartender for? An unbiased opinion, and that’s generally what people come for I feel. At least I know there was one night, where I did push one good thing in this world in the right direction.

Tags!

Forever Squad: @sofreddie @chelsea072498 @ria132love @untitled39887 @chicagolove88 @akshi8278 @sis-tafics @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @mandilion76 @teamfreewill92 @supernaturalmagicfolk @emoryhemsworth @musicistobeheard-blog @pheonyxstorm @mrswhozeewhatsis @turnttover @itspronouncedsatanbitch @the--real-wombat @xagateophobiax @samisimportant @jensen-gal @castiel11235 @waiting-to-find-myshadows @19agbrown @mogaruke

Dean Divas: @hobby27

[11eustonwehaveaproblem]

Post-Cat Stress Disorder

It is now day 10 of a 20-pound bag of cat food being used as a door stop to the front door of the apartment building, and I am sick and tired of it.

You see, first of all, this is a safety hazard for many reasons. Imagine that a fucking murderer is chilling in Brookline, one of the safest neighborhoods in Boston but still, imagine that there is a murderer. This murderer is walking around, maybe trying to find the Kennedy family’s house somewhere deep in Brookline so that he can rob and kill them, and he sees that there is a building on Euston Street that is fully open to the public because there is a bag of cat food holding the door open. He walks into this building and picks the lock of apartment 1, and then kills me, my boyfriend and all of my roommates.

Number two, imagine that someone is coming home drunk from a night of fiesta-ing and walks in through the door. They are so drunk that they do not remember that a 20-pound bag of cat food is blocking the door, and they trip and fall and then hit their head on the banister of the stairwell that leads up to the other apartments, and their head cracks open and they die, and I discover them when I walk out of my home at 12 p.m. the next afternoon just trying to get some brunch with M, and then I have to call 911 or whatever and I become a central character in a mysterious murder when it was the fucking cat food all along.

Three, it reminds me of how that cat food even got there in the first place: it was my horrid former roommate A’s bag of cat food, because, despite my horrific cat allergy, she had a cat. See, I TOLD YOU she was the worst!!!

In the beginning of the year, before I even moved in, I stated that I had a cat allergy and that I only had one living condition: I cannot live in a house with cats. Sounds reasonable, yes? Apparently, it was not.

This whole gross cat business started when she got drunk and went to this cat show with my other roommate T, the one who I actually liked. They texted in the groupchat that they got a cat, and I thought that they were joking. Turns out they weren’t, obviously, but they didn’t come home with the cat. The cat had gone home with A’s boyfriend, J, and A said that it would stay with him and just be brought over for her to play with sometimes, and that she would always keep it in her room with the door locked.

I was placated by this, and really didn’t care. But then one day, I got home and the cat was sitting on the living room couch with A and J, who were drinking 40s of beer at, like, 11 a.m. on a Wednesday. I blanched.

“Oh, hey, Case!” A called out, using a nickname that I absolutely hate.

“Heeeeeeeeey,” I said, approaching slowly.

“This is Lucy! Wanna meet her?” J said, clearly unaware that I am extremely allergic to cats.

“I’m good,” I said. “Is she living with you?” I asked him, trying to remain low-key.

“Yeah, but I brought her over so A could chill with her,” J replied, and I was calmed again.

“Cool. Well, I’m allergic to cats, so just make sure she doesn’t get into my room,” I said.

“Oh, shit. Okay, will do. Sorry!” J said. He was extremely nice and wonderful.

“No worries!” I said, because I am a pushover and a peacemaker and I will do literally anything -- a n y t h i n g -- to avoid confrontation, especially with A, who was and still is one of the scariest people I’ve ever met.

Needless to say, Lucy the cat, that fucking ugly, fat-ass cat, never left the apartment after that day. A started to clandestinely keep her in the apartment and only let her out of her room when I wasn’t home, but this only worked for a short amount of time because I started sneezing. And sneezing some more, and sneezing some more.

I confronted A about it one day over text message, when I knew she wouldn’t be home for a while, because like I said, that bitch scared the ever-living shit out of me. I asked if Lucy could be moved back to J’s, and A said that she complied. However, Lucy, again, never went back to J’s. She just continued to live in my apartment, and conditions got worse. A was no longer careful with making sure that Lucy stayed in her room. Lucy roamed the apartment like nobody’s business, and everything fucking stank of cat piss all the time. My allergies got worse and I had to take Claritin every day just to live in my house. I would stay out of the apartment for hours at a time and dread going home to sleep at night because I knew I’d wake up congested, with itchy eyes and a headache. I reminded A to move Lucy back to J’s, and she said that she was going to, again, but again, never did it. One time, I came home from getting literal surgery in New York City for the weekend and I opened my door, wanting nothing more than to collapse into my bed and go to sleep, and Lucy came bolting out of my room. That bitch knew she wasn’t supposed to be in there -- she knew.

I think that Lucy coming out of my room that afternoon was the final straw. I talked to V, who I thought was A’s best friend so I thought, wrongly, that A would listen to her. Turns out, everyone else in the apartment hated V as much as I did, so that was incorrect. But anyway, V talked to A and I expected that the cat would be moved back to J’s easy-peasy.

One day I was in the kitchen and A walked in, all breezy-like. “Hey! I called a cleaning service to clean up the house so we can see if that works to make your allergies better.”

“Oh, cool. Thank you. When is Lucy going back to J’s?” I asked.

“Well we’re gonna see if the cleaning service works first,” A replied. I wish I could have seen the look on my face just then.

“I DON’T USUALLY FUCKING SCREAM LIKE THIS BUT LIKE I HAVE BEEN DEALING WITH THIS STUPID CAT FOR SO LONG AND I AM SO ALLERGIC AND IT IS IMPEDING MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T SCREAM AND KICK YOU IN THE FACE FOR MAKING ME MISERABLE FOR LONGER LIKE I SNEEZE WHEN I’M AROUND A CAT FOR THREE SECONDS SO HIRING A CLEANING SERVICE TO GET THE STINK OF CAT PISS OUT OF EVERYTHING IS JUST TRULY NOT GOING TO WORK BECAUSE IT’S STILL GOING TO SMELL LIKE CAT PISS AND LUCY IS STILL GOING TO HANG OUT IN MY ROOM BECAUSE YOU DON’T RESPECT ME ENOUGH TO NOT LET HER IN MY ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” is what I screamed in my head.

“Okay, sounds good,” is what I said in real life.

To my complete and utter non-surprise, the cleaning service did not work. I was at peace for three days, but on day four I woke up with red, itchy eyes and cold symptoms. I told A that her mom absolutely had to come pick up Lucy by next weekend, latest. And it was still another month before that bitch got her fucking bitch-ass cat out of my space.

Her mom, to her credit, profusely apologized to me.

Anyway, boy, do I ramble or what?

So this bag of cat food brought back a lot of memories that I was trying to work on repressing. And I had had enough of it. I enlisted my roommates to all lift a corner of the bag of cat food and move it to the other side of the lobby so that it wasn’t convenient to be used as a doorstop.

I went to sleep feeling like I’d done something good for not only the safety of the building, but my mental health. Two mornings later, however, the bag of cat food had returned to its original doorstop usage. Using M’s help (read, telling M to go do it pleeeease), I just threw the goddamn thing out.

“Who keeps moving the cat food in front of the door?” I asked my roommates, knowing that it wasn’t any of them but just trying to communicate my frustration.

“It’s the boys upstairs,” G said. “One of them doesn’t have a front door key. I was like, then why don’t you ask David (editor’s note: David is our landlord) to get you a key? And he was like, cause he’s lazy.”

“Well I don’t want to get murdered!” I exclaimed, vocalizing my neuroses, of which I have many.

“I know!” G agreed, because she has some of the same neuroses as me, though thankfully not as many.

Anyway, we were soothed in knowing that we would not get murdered because we had thrown away the cat food. But then the following weekend, there was something else in place of the cat food: a fucking air conditioning machine.

K and I threw the air conditioning machine out in front of the apartment, and a few days later it had disappeared. It was a working AC machine, and someone had probably taken it. The apartment was safe once again.

A few days later, I discovered that a wooden board was now being used as the doorstop. This item was light enough for me to carry through my apartment and throw out in the dumpster in the back. I told myself that if one more item was going to be used as a makeshift doorstop, I would say something to the boys upstairs.

It was quiet for two weeks. But this morning, I walked out in the front to discover that a cereal box, all crumpled up but seemingly still with some cereal in it, was blocking the door.

“Oh my fucking God,” I groaned upon discovering this. I did not want to pick up the cereal box because it’s a food item, and that felt kind of gross. Maybe this had been their point in using a food item as the doorstop. Maybe this was our little game, and I had been unwittingly playing, like those Saw movies or whatever. Maybe we were flirting?

Instantly, I knew what I had to do. I took a few copies of the front door key that my mom had made for me in the beginning of the semester because she loves me and put them in an envelope, and then taped the envelope to their mailbox and wrote out “Apartment 3” on the outside. Inside, I wrote a little note on a Post-It.

Hi,

Here are a couple copies of the front door key. You can give them to whoever needs them. Please stop using items as a doorstop to the front door because if a murderer comes in, we’re the first ones to die. 😊

Love,

Apartment 1