#the things i do for you bb

[audioletter]

Day Thirty: Only One Bed (AR1 for @colonelshepparrrrd) (Author's note: Gregory, Queensland is a real place, and my father lived there for a brief time. The more you know!)

Ronon was inches from the kangaroo. A stare down of epic proportions was occurring - the kangaroo laying languid in the shade of a gumtree, and Ronon on all fours.

"This is going to end badly," Rodney whined. "Did he not watch the videos we sent him on Australian wildlife before coming here?"

Teyla walked around Rodney's left, putting one of their carry boxes down near his feet. "You know you cannot stop Ronon when he's on a mission."

Rodney spluttered, his tablet almost flying out of his hands. "And today's mission is get kicked in the face by a muscly marsupial?" A sudden movement and he ducked, squealing a little in a distinctly unmasculine way. "A BIRD just dive-bombed me! What is with this country?"

"That was a magpie, mate, did you need an ice cream container with eyes? Scares 'em off." A warm looking woman walked towards them with John by her side, and Rodney touched his head for injuries. "You'll be fine, they're just protecting their babies."

"Well, is everything out here planning to kill us?" Rodney asked the woman, who introduced herself as Sharon. "I'd heard rumours of your country but…"

Sharon laughed. "Welcome to Gregory, mate. I'd probably get your friend away from the 'roo though, he's going to get a swift biff to the face if he's lucky and one to the nether-regions if he's not."

John walked over and collared Ronon - not an easy feat - pulling him away from the kangaroo who seemed unfazed by the whole thing. "Not now, Ronon, we need to find this ZPM that's been detected here."

"We were just bonding," Ronon growled, but he gave the kangaroo one last dark look before dragging himself over to the group, now surrounded by the last cases of detection equipment from their very out-of-place SUV hire car.

"You'll need a place to stay, right?" Sharon said, putting her hands on her hips. "The Gregory Downs Hotel is mine, and I've only one room left but you're welcome to it."

"That would be excellent, thank you," John smiled, and Rodney rolled his eyes at Sharon's flushed cheeks and shy smile in response. "Where can we check-in?"

The sound of birds and rustling of trees broke through the oppressive heat, the humidity almost killing Rodney the moment they'd stepped out of the car in Gregory, Queensland's...well, "main town" seemed like a stretch, with a population of twenty-five max, but the landscape was, despite being extremely sparse, rather beautiful.

"Ah, nah, we can fix that up in a bit, let's get your stuff to your room." Sharon lead the way, pulling a worn key out of her pocket. The hotel was wood and corrigated iron - Queenslander architecture Rodney had learnt in his study of the area - and she reached a door, wigging the key and swinging the door open to display an even more sparse room than the outside terrain.

And only one bed.

"Sorry, mates, we're full because of a caravan party dropping in, but there's a couch - well, it's a bit buggared but you can make do." She smiled at Teyla. "No doubt these gentlemen will let the lady have the bed, and I'll get you some extra blankets and pillows, all good?"

"All good," John smiled radiantly again, but even Rodney picked up on his dread at the room. "Is there somewhere we can eat?"

"Oh, nah yeah, you can get a good feed at Murray's." She turned and pointed directly next to the hotel. "He'll set you right. Did ya wanna come sign in now, get it over and done with before you fang down?"

"'Fang down'?" Teyla muttered under her breath, moving into the room and testing the bed. It seemed servicable to Rodney's eyes and Teyla's expression confirmed that, and she stood happily. "'Fang down' means to eat?"

Sharon laughed, heartily. "Welcome to Australia, Yanks." She stopped as she turned to walk out. "Oh, 'Yanks' is a term of endearment here, so don't take it too serious, yeah?"

The four of them stared at her and nodded in unison, Rodney clocking the lack of air con and sighed as Sharon left them alone in the room.

—

"No one seems to know anything about a Zed-PM," Rodney groaned, entering the room and throwing himself down on the bed. "And stop trying to get into fights with kangaroos, Ronon."

"I could take one."

"No doubt you could!"

John sighed. "We should get some sleep. Sharon's left some blankets and pillows which is good."

Teyla frowned. "The floor is tile, and the couch seems uncomfortable - certainly we have slept in closer quarters than this bed which seems big enough for all of us?"

A silence fell over the group - awkward, embarrassed and thoughtful - and it was Ronon who threw himself down next to Rodney on the bed and grinned. "Seems fine by me."

"No snuggling," Rodney muttered, knowing he was in for a restless night of Ronon thrashing in his sleep, but he was so tired from the flight to Brisbane, then Cairns, then the massively long drive to Gregory, that he didn't care if he slept on a pile of rocks.

Everyone took their time to get ready, eventually all piling into the surprisingly comfortable bed. The ceiling fan rotated quietly above them, Rodney happily full from the shockingly amazing meal they'd had at Murray's as they lined up, four in a row, on the queen sized bed.

"Good night, all," Teyla whispered from her end of the bed, curled up. "This humidity may be hard to sleep in but let's try."

A chorus of good nights rang through the air, and Rodney found himself falling asleep before he could even complain about the thick air and thin sheet.

—

The next morning - well, it was a game of Jenga to work out exactly how to get them out of the bed. Teyla was still in her ball, but Ronon was very heavily leaning into Rodney, his arm thrown over him, John pressed against Rodney's other side and snoring soundly.

Of course I had to be in the middle, Rodney inwardly groaned, gently picking up Ronon's arm off him and trying to get out of the AR1 puddle. It was going to be impossible until -

"Good morning," Teyla beamed, waking John up in the process. An escape route, Rodney thought, ignoring Teyla and crawling over the top of them to freedom.

"Did you sleep well?" John smirked, stretching his arms above his head.

"Let's just find this Zed-PM before I die of heat stroke and Ronon gets us kicked out for terrorising local wildlife."

"Good plan," Teyla and John said in unison.

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[starlightvld]

Up in Smoke

(Also on AO3)

The first time Ghost rips the cigarette from Soap's mouth, drops it on the ground, and stomps on it as he passes by, Soap is too stunned to say anything for a full ten seconds. They've only been working together consistently for a couple of missions, and even as his superior officer, the audacity of the action floors him.

By the time his brain restarts, Ghost is long gone.

--

The second time Ghost steals Soap's cigarette, he bursts out in a string of Scottish curses and tackles Ghost from behind before the wanker can drop it on the ground. An impromptu sparring match ensues, fists and curses flying. 

Afterward, he doesn't feel much like a cigarette anymore — not with the split lip, anyway. Besides, the buzzing under his skin that usually drives him to smoke is just... gone.

Price catches wind of the incident, of course, and calls them into his office a few hours later. By that time Soap has calmed down enough to be... maybe not okay with it, but at least able to see the humor. 

"What's this about you muppets scuffling by the smoking area?"

"Just a little sparring to blow off steam," Soap says.

"Ghost?"

"Nothin' to worry about, Captain."

"No? I've got one soldier who looks like he just got back from a bar fight, and the other..." He squints at Ghost. "He get a hit in on you, too?"

"Yeah," Ghost replies in that deadpan tone of his. "Coupla black eyes."

It's a joke. 

Ghost is telling a joke. And it's objectively not funny. It's not. But Soap bursts into hysterical laughter all the same. 

The corners of Ghost's blacked-out eyes crinkle. 

Price rubs his temples before dropping his hand on his desk. Soap presses his lips together to contain his laughter.

"Sparring happens in the gym. I'm sure you know the place. It's where we have things like mats and gloves. I catch you two bare-knuckle fighting again, and you will regret it."

And it's enough to sober Soap up. He avoids Ghost as he ducks away to catch dinner.

--

The third time... well, no. He supposes that's really the fourth time. 

Because the actual third time, Soap had come back from a shit mission where everything went wrong. Intel was faulty, exfil was delayed, and people under his command died. It didn't happen as often in SAS as it had in the regulars — the soldiers here were well-trained and hard to kill — but that made it all the worse. 

When Ghost tried to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, Soap growled. 

"Back the fuck up, Lt. Or Price is gonna be disappointed in both of us."

Ghost paused, and their eyes met. Slowly, Ghost lowered his hand. 

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Fuck no."

"Thank God."

Soap didn't have it in him to even huff a laugh. He took a long drag and blew the smoke away from Ghost as a peace offering.

To his surprise, Ghost didn't leave. He spun around and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. They stood there together, utterly silent, as Soap let the heat and sting in his lungs soothe the beast inside that wanted to rip the world apart.

When he was done, though, he was surprised to find he didn't want another. Usually after shit missions, he'd stand there and smoke half a pack before his hands would stop shaking.

He finally met Ghost's eyes. The man quirked a barely visible brow.

"S'pose we should take it to the mats this time?"

Ghost pushed off the building and started walking. Soap followed like a lost child looking for a way home. 

--

The fourth time is in Chicago. His hands are shaking not from losing soldiers but from almost losing his own life. The cigarette trembles in his grip as he stands outside the bar, the biting wind turning his fingers and probably his lips blue. He lifts it to his mouth, inhaling deep—

And then it's gone.

The whine that bubbles up from his gut and bursts from his throat is nothing short of humiliating. But God. God. He needs it.

"Not now. Please, Ghost."

"Why?"

Ghost hasn't thrown the cigarette down. Yet. He cocks his head to the side and gives Soap a long look. Soap can only tremble from the cold and a need that goes deeper than a simple hit of nicotine.

"I just... I need it."

The cigarette drops to the ground, but Soap doesn't have time to lament the loss before that same hand is curling around Soap's neck and pulling him into a fucking massive chest. The other arm comes around Soap's shoulders and...

Ghost just stands there, holding him. And Soap can't help melting into the warmth and solidity of the man who saved his life just hours ago. He dares to curl in deeper. To raise his hands and clutch at Ghost's jacket. To let a few, silent tears escape his tight control.

Finally, his muscles relax. Ghost must feel it, because he turns and leads Soap back toward the bar.

"Why do ye even care?" Soap mumbles from his spot tucked into Ghost's side.

"Because those things'll kill ya."

Soap supposes the "I like you alive" is implied at this point.

--

Soap loses count after Chicago. He gets stretches of days when Ghost is on a solo op or out with one of the other operators when he can smoke in peace. So he does.

At first.

He's been hooked since he was a rebellious teen trying to make his mark on the world. He's tried to quit multiple times, but it never seems to stick. The first bad mission or adrenaline-filled near miss and he's back at whatever smoking spot he can find, puffing away.

He finds himself trying to cut back, though, even when Ghost is away.

Any time Ghost is on base, all bets are off. In addition to darting by and making a grab for it or sneaking up behind him and flicking it out of his hands, Ghost has gotten more creative. Sometimes Soap will pull out a cigarette only to find he's "lost" his lighter. Sometimes the cigarettes themselves go missing — he clutches his chest and mourns all that wasted money whenever a whole pack disappears. 

He supposes it's all just going up in smoke anyway, though.

He should be angry. But in truth, it's almost a relief to hand over the reins to Ghost. To let the man help him by annoying the shit out of him until he wants to give up on it entirely.

Which is definitely the point. Ghost has made that perfectly clear.

So, whenever he gets the urge to calm his racing thoughts or overactive mind with a cigarette, he finds Ghost and annoys him instead. They talk, or spar, or simply sit in silence together, doing their own thing. Ghost doesn't often touch him — their moment in Chicago is still the closest Soap's ever gotten to the elusive Ghost — but he also doesn't push Soap away when he slumps into Ghost's side after a hard day or leans over his back when he's sitting at the table in the 141's common area on base.

The urge doesn't go away, of course. And sometimes, when things get really bad, Ghost will just sit or stand with him like he did the third time. Still, he finds himself smoking less and hanging out with Ghost more.

--

The last time Ghost steals a cigarette from Soap, he simply stands beside Soap and holds out his hand. Soap immediately knows something has gone terribly wrong. Still, he's too invested in the game now to not hand the cigarette over.

He nearly keels over when Ghost pulls up his mask and takes a long, hard drag. Soap watches in fascination as his cheeks hollow, his neck muscles strain, his lips curve around the paper. It's erotic in a way he really shouldn't be thinking about in regards to his emotionally unavailable superior officer, but the knowledge hasn't stopped him yet. Since that day in Chicago — probably before if he's honest — he's only ever wanted to be closer.

Ghost coughs a little and hands the cigarette back.

"Fuck. Just as disgusting as I remember."

"Ye used to smoke, then?"

"Before I joined up, yeah. Hated it, though."

"The smell? Or—"

"Everything. The taste, the smell, the heat..." Ghost trails off, his hand rubbing over his bicep in a strangely specific way. He shakes his head and looks back at Soap. "Not your problem, Johnny. Forget about it."

Soap's hand is darting out, fingers curling into Ghost's jacket, before he's properly thought through the action. Ghost pauses before turning back. They stare in silence for a moment until—

Soap stubs out the half-burned cigarette and drops the butt in the trash. He licks his lips. Glances up at Ghost. The mask is still sitting on his nose, and Soap stares at his lips for longer than he should before pulling the pack out of his pocket and throwing it in the trash, too.

"Cannae have ye thinking I stink, can I?"

"Too late."

But Ghost's throat bobs with a hard swallow. Soap wets his lips, takes a step closer, and uncurls his fingers to slide his hand up Ghost's chest until his fingertips are resting on Ghost's shirt collar.

"I dinnae think it is."

Ghost turns and walks away. Soap closes his eyes and drops his hand, internally cursing his impulsive behavior. The scuffing of boots walking away from him is like nails on a chalk board.

Until they stop, and a gruff voice calls out, "You comin'?"

A slow smile slides across Soap's mouth. "No' yet."

A huff — exasperation? laughter? a bit of both? — before, "Better get movin' then."

And Soap has never been more glad to follow an order.

[haunted-xander]

Wholeheartedly

[bonefall]

Does leopard still have 3 lives in her final battle? Or was that changed?

Yep. I think she drowned her once, then Leopardstar lunges up refreshed, and she gets the upper paw on Mistyfoot with 2 lives to go.

(MAYBE tw gore, but I really did try to be tasteful about a head being smashed on a rock.)

On her back, splashing and thrashing furiously against Leopardstar's claws dunking her head under, Mistyfoot glimpses a wave breaking just over the tip of a stone-blue rock. Her only chance.

With a surge of power, her claws sink into her leader's golden shoulder and they tumble and roll to the right. Before the tyrant even realizes what's happening, she's yanked up, and then whipped backwards with a wet CRUNCH

And then again

And again

And again, until Mistyfoot can't even make out what's left of her leader anymore. All she can see is that it's a red, brown, and yellow blur, because her eyes burning with salty tears and her whole body is trembling.

She drops the corpse onto the stone and it slides into the water, lifelessly. After a moment it spasms aimlessly one last time, like an insect does after its head is bitten off, unlike the deliberate, agonized throes of Tigerstar suffering through his doomed lives. And then it's still.

There's only the tranquil sound of bubbling water, and Mistyfoot's frenzied panting. Her pounding heart makes it hard to hear either.

The blood is carried off by the shallow water in scarlet swirls, but the lake runs pale red as if it's washing it away. Some were aware of this prophecy, but Mistyfoot was not.

It isn't closure to her, or a fulfillment of divine decree. It's just blood that should be on her paws, slicked away by the complicit river. She wished it could feel like it's over, but she's smart enough to know the truth. Has been through enough terrible events like this to understand what comes next.

Her body will move foward. Her mind will need to consider her deputy. Her paw will come down on code-defying cats like Blackclaw and Greenflower. But her heart will stay here, next to the remains of Leopardstar, the same way another piece of it remains at Stonefur's side across space and time.

[simplydm]

Grian and Impulse’s friendship is so fun to me. Get you a friend that will hold your hand. Get you a friend that you go to sounding like you’re crying sobbing throwing up etc. Get you a friend that will motivate you to start your episode with positive affirmations. Get you a friend who scolds you like they’re your father. Get you a friend who will blow up your base and totally won’t feel guilt about it.

[moongothic]

You know, I would love it if we could see Mihawk just. Get slightly fucked up by someone, have his sword stolen and watch him figure out how to fight with some random ass sword instead

I just think. It'd be neat.

Like we kinda know how The World's Greatest Swordsman fights with his itty bitty knife, we know what kind of damage he can do with his iconic Yoru

I just think it'd be fun to see him fight with a regular katana and try to get his stolen sword back or summin' IDK

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

"We don't know what kind of life he's had, but the resentment he's shown towards adults is nothing short of extraordinary."

"Was Ralph really an accident? Or did Eli just rig it-to stir up the kids?"

Liquid Snake, the most unhinged, deranged 12 y/o in MGS.

[dreamboundedstar]

Linda: But trying to make people think you're cool is exhausting. And when you stop trying, suddenly the next person you talk to thinks you're the best person ever.

Cue the time-passing montage of Tina learning to let go of that embarrassing moment and stop trying to be cool. Most of the time it's with her family, at the restaurant, or by herself just investing herself in her favorite music again. However, there's this one frame I'm convinced has subtle symbolism!

The only time Zeke appears in the episode and it's to be in front of Tina while she looks out the window still sad from the event. Due to how this scene was set up it really looks like it's implying that Zeke is one of those that would think Tina is "the best person ever". However, Tina is too busy being sad to notice what's already in front of her. I mean, the window perfectly frames Zeke in (and sweet Susmita gets her moment too, even if it's just her hair and some of her skin) when they literally could have done whatever they wanted and changed the character in the seat in front of Tina. Heck, Tina could have been in the last seat and further symbolize the loneliness/self-pity Tina is feeling. It's possible they just wanted to stick with accurate continuity and have Tina, Zeke, Susmita, and the rest be in the same seating arrangements as they were in "Cheaty Cheaty Bang Bang". For continuity reasons or not, I still take it as symbolism that Zeke already thinks Tina is the coolest person ever and Tina just needs to really look around her to realize it. The subtext I tell ya!

[braincloggedwithcats]

When you look up the differences between platonic and romantic love, one of the . The things. Is "imagining romantic situations with them" and just. The. H!???1??! I DONT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!!!

[windslar]

drafting a legacy challenge because i'm not already playing two of them right now ✌🏼

[snav1d]

straightest interaction between two war criminals

full audio on ytb

[todayisafridaynight]

i cant explain it but daigo being subtitled to just be like 'you're making me look like i have no balls' feels so illegal and wrong. hilarious but something's off

[bonefall]

I personally like Thunder's prosthetic. Explained it to my friend (who does use a mobility device, a cane and wheelchair, and listens to me rant and infodump about BB) and they agreed, it's important to know that not every person needs what someone wants to give them. It's another example of "bad ableist person does a thing that hurts a disabled person because they are bad and ableist".

Clear Sky got Jagged Peak killed and would have killed Sunlit Frost! He would absolutely force his disabled son to be "normal" and present it like a privilege. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, it's special, why don't you want to be helped?"

Thunder Storm should toss it in Clear Sky's face. (I would say toss it into the river but we do not pollute waterways in this house)

Thank you for telling me this, and tell your friend I'm thanking them too! If they have anything else to add please forward what they have to say

Since BB!DOTC tackles some of the heaviest topics in the entire series because its canon equivalent is so dark, I think very carefully about what I do here and how I show it. I take feedback on its sensitive aspects very seriously. If I'm understanding the criticism properly, it's that I should avoid stigmatizing prosthetics by making sure Thunder Storm's not the only one with it-- which he's not! And I'll add even more.

I don't want to avoid something only because it's uncomfortable if the topic is important, and my portrayal is respectful. Ableism IS uncomfortable! There are some situations where a prosthetic is not wanted! I think the rejection of this particular one is both a good opportunity to show a type of ableism and ALSO is very fitting for the characters.

In BB!Clear Sky's mind, the villain, he's fixing an old mistake. He can't admit that he got Jagged Peak killed or take REAL accountability for it (though he will, occasionally, apologize insincerely), but deep in his bones, he knows what he did was cruel. He'll never tell anyone this because he doesn't really cognate it himself, but Thunder Storm NEEDS to take his gift.

If Thunder doesn't take it, it blows a hole in his newest story. You see, throwing Jagged Peak out was All That Could Have Been Done back then. It was a Tragedy and he simply Made A Hard Choice. He regrets it very much, But You Have To Understand.

But now? Now? Well, behold. Look at what he's accomplished since the tragic death of his little brother. His cats are well-fed, cared for, and stable enough to make such incredible advancements. If only Jagged Peak had been able to hold on longer, if only he could be here now, I could fix him.

Just like I can (MAKE YOU JUST LIKE ME) fix you.

"Everything I've ever done is for Jagged Peak. For Fluttering Wing. For you." Thunder Sky is SPECIAL, but if he rejects any gift, tries to turn down the "privileges" offered to him, in an instant that becomes ungratefulness and arrogance. He both forces him to be special, and then leverages it against him if it's rejected. "Spoiled brat, doesn't appreciate what I've worked so hard to give him."

It all goes back to him and his own guilt. He can NEVER be wrong. He can't accept his family doesn't have to be "normal" or reflect his own ability. He won't see himself as a bully, let alone a murderer. It was never about his son's comfort or finding out what Thunder Storm wants or needs, it was about his own ego.

...All that said I'm still taking feedback if there's anything else I should keep in mind, or if anyone has a counter point, especially if you also have experience here.

(In the interest of having a link trail for posterity, here's the critique/call for feedback this is in response to)

[eskawrites]

so. um. like. what if the nancy pov was as long as the cfdau

[basslinegrave]

partners in crime