Patrick loves the tentacle beds. Bob is not so sure.

"Everybody, this is Adam," says Educator Kari. She's standing next to a skinny kid with red hair, who's still wearing the white and blue jumpsuit they give new people. He's also wearing a cape.

A sort-of sequel, or accompaniment, to Robots Need Love Too. Kari and Grant try to do it by the book.

Different time. Different Place. Same Losers.

Waste not, want not. Which applies to former Shinra employees too.

Space AU - Peter got Neal paroled to his and El's ship because he couldn't bear the thought of Neal on a prison planet. El hijacks Neal into her event planning because she can't bear to see his talents being wasted while he and Peter pine over each other. But there's many perils in space, not the least of which is to convince her boys to stop being silly and listen to her!

A peaceful Earth, five major powers united in global governance. An International Space Service, exploring the stars for new homes and signs of life. An ever-expanding Alternia, convinced of its own supremacy, willing to tolerate no threats, willing to acknowledge no others. A species with a history drowning in its own blood, in turning on itself, in destroying anything that seems other, in taking any excuse for a war. (That last one was humanity. Trolls are about to find out they've made a big fucking mistake.)

"The SHIELD interceptor spaceship Avenger is under final attack. Aboard her, sitting in his cell, the war criminal Tony Stark gets ready for the confrontation, and the revelation, that he knows is about to come. Roughly 6000 words of a random Space Opera AU."

"Wait, no, wait, don't shoot!" Belle cried, hopping and untangling a cord from her foot as she followed the robot into the workshop. "Chip, it's all right, she's the ship's security officer. She's a friend."

Colonel Mustang's company receives a distress call -- coming from Alphonse Elric's AI.

"No, see, we've all been trained a certain way. The training system is traditional; it's centuries old. Nobody taught you. You ballist like it's got nothing to do with war at all." A sleepy, extraordinary smile crawls over Victor's face. "Nobody else does it like that. That's why we're going to win."

"No, see, we've all been trained a certain way. The training system is traditional; it's centuries old. Nobody taught you. You ballist like it's got nothing to do with war at all." A sleepy, extraordinary smile crawls over Victor's face. "Nobody else does it like that. That's why we're going to win." [fic & art collab with inknose]

His Grace the Archduke Yuri Plisetsky wins the Ballistic Grand Tournament in his debut year, at the age of fifteen. Things go downhill from there.

Kurama hears the footsteps long before anything else.

“And here you are,” Yibo agrees. “What’s next?” Xiao Zhan shrugs. “Another flight, further out. A ship if I can sign on to one.” He grins at the thought, then peeks at Yibo. “I don’t suppose you know a crew who’s looking for a mechanic? I’m good with my hands,” he says, wiggling his fingers. Yibo raises his eyebrows and Xiao Zhan feels his ears turn hot. “Why not a ship of your own?” Yibo asks. Xiao Zhan snorts. “I didn’t cash in that much.” “You might be surprised,” Yibo says, and Xiao Zhan deflates a little. “And you were doing so good at not being a salesman,” he says resignedly, and Yibo grins. Xiao Zhan leaves the quiet, stable life of a shipyard mechanic for adventure in the stars; adventure finds him after the third drink.

The boy came to UCR_1669321_QH with the night shuttle. This was significant only because the ID he showed to Auntie Huaifeng on paperwork duty is clearly fake, and he didn’t leave with the next shuttle outbound—he wandered further into the belly of the station instead, asking about work. Auntie Huaifeng reports this all to Mingjue through the comm right from her rickety booth overlooking the station shuttleport in gleeful, cracking bursts.

nyargles)

“Torao says a lot of stupid things,” Luffy informed him, deadpan, and Law huffed a laugh and kissed him again—longer, this time, like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t manage aloud. Like doing this right was the only thing that mattered, now. Monet watched the star-lines drift past in the viewport, shimmering as they sped across the black.

His hand against Jensen's stomach gets the soldier flinching again, at least twice as hard as the one that jolts him when Jared tweezes the first splinter of elysium off of the tray and pierces the skin right at Jensen's hip with it.

Jason, on a mission, gets captured. Tim, working undercover, goes to get him out. There's...a side benefit.