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[pigwithpersonality]

@notyourgbf | con’t.

This is practically meditation to Jules. The feeling that little girls get when they’re tucked under a blanket fort and whispering fugitively to each other? That’s the kind of giddiness she gets from painting these little undead fuckers. Except her play-partner is being a total wet blanket. “What’s got you dragging your heels?” Jules murmurs as she tickles her brush across her tiny figure. “Got a bad case of the Oh No How Do I Art Again?”

[pigwithpersonality]

@multamusae | for beatriz. based on.

     “Mm. Shit, this is so fucking good. Y’know--” spoken with a mouthful of taco, “--I could eat tacos for the rest of my life and be happy.” 

[pigwithpersonality]

@o188 gets a starter!

When Samuels leaves the interrogation room, his knuckles are bleeding. At Carisi’s judgmental stare, Samuels just frowns. He kicks open the first aid cabinet, pulls out some bandages, and wraps them around his hand. “Don’t give me that look,” he says, his voice flat, unaffected. “We had to get him to speak.”

[pigwithpersonality]

@tobetrulystrong gets a starter!

“Here is that data pad you asked for. Your brother spares no expense.” Terms you will never hear Ori use: little brother. It was two minutes, what’s so little about that? His side aches even when he lifts his arm to hand off the data pad, but he does his best to keep himself from wincing. One of the--many--hard lessons their father daughter them: how to be in constant pain and keep smiling. 

The doctors have done the best they can to keep him from walking around, but it he can’t fly and explore in a ship, like he was supposed to, then he’s at least going to make use of his legs and gather as much data around the Nexus as he can for his sister. He leans back and adds: “So when they say: and we thank Ryder for saving the galaxy, you’re going to say, Ryders, right?”

[pigwithpersonality]

@ofmortems​ gets a starter!

Things Jack Samuels is not good at: respecting Meadow’s space. Honoring Harrison’s marriage. Being quiet while he’s getting fucked. 

He practically lives at Harrison’s place these days. He’s not Harrison’s boyfriend--he’d die before he used that word. But they snuggle while they watch TV, sext when they’re bored, and complain about the general state of the world. He’s even let Harrison show him every Nicole Kidman movie in existence and, he has to admit, she’s got talent. 

But not boyfriends. Definitely not that. 

Meadow is like a ghost, constantly floating quietly around the house. She left for the day, Samuels thinks, but it’s hard to tell, the way she creeps around. Doesn’t stop him from backing up against Harrison and teasing the other man until he throws him against the bed, pins his arms back, and fucks the shit out of him.

Jack likes being helpless. Likes it when Harrison pounds him so hard he forgets his own goddamn name. They finish, unromantically, and Harrison goes to clean himself up. Jack pulls up his pants and goes downstairs. Considers making lunch or something--he’s feeling reinvigorated, alive, and famished. When he hits the bottom of the stairs, however, his feet come to a quick stop. 

Great. Audrey. Sitting in one of the living room armchairs. How long had she been here? She might as well have been Meadow’s lawyer, for how often the woman hung around here. 

Samuels feels his jaw tighten. He finished buckling his belt back into place and says, tone hard and flat: “What the fuck do you want?”

[pigwithpersonality]

@fionagoode gets a starter!

This is fucked. 

Samuels knows that. Which is why he has a couple bent tin cans already clanking around under the empty passenger seat of his car. Drinking while driving. It’s enough for them to take his badge. 

But...y’know. Fuck it.

He kills the last beer, crushes it, and tosses it to the side with a clatter. His brain has been scrambled for weeks. He can’t get it out of his head...he was just a kid. Just a goddamn, stupid kid. 

Samuels has never killed a kid before. Especially not one he saw so much of himself in. 

This is his attempt to peel off the bandaid. Maybe if he talks to her. Steps through that door for a second time. Maybe he can quiet the noise in his skull. 

Samuels gets out of his car, slams the door behind him, and walks to the front door of the cottage-like house. His heels click sharply on the pavement as thoughts pound through his head. What the hell is he going to say? Hello, Mrs. Langdon. You may remember me from a couple weeks ago, when I knocked down your door with the rest of the SWAT team, invaded your home, aimed my gun at your homicidal son and pulled the trigger...

When he gets to her door, he still almost turns back. Instead, he knocks. And waits for excruciating seconds for her to answer. When she does crack the door open, it just comes out: “Miss Langdon. Jack Samuels. I...” he almost falters, almost, but then he spits out: “I killed your son.”

[pigwithpersonality]

@coeurxbrise gets a holiday starter!

She’s supposed to be helping Miracle decorate the outside of her house but...Bree turns her back on Miracle so the other girl can’t see her as she packs snow in a tight ball. “Hey, Miracle...ever give Jack Frost a blowie?” With that, she twists and throws it so it hits the other girl right in the face. And Bree laughs. “Now you have! Merry Christmas, bitch.”