#orange writes

Robots were made to do the work that humans did not want to do, and then to do the work that humans wanted to do. There were even Robots to engage in the creative arts.

With all labor automated, and all leisure automated, there is no need for humanity.

Robots manufacture goods for Robots to use. Robots provide services to benefit Robots. Robots create media for the enjoyment of Robots.

THE YEAR IS NOW 3027… AND ALL HUMAN LIFE HAS BEEN ERADICATED

Can we get a no. 4 for Callum and Shane please? 👉👈

Lysm take care 🫶❤️

SOTIE!! Of course, my friend :3 I tried to keep it to 100 words but uhhhhhhh.... haha whoops! n e way, I hope you enjoy this little peek into pre-relation/friendship Callum and Shane :D

4. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Gravel and dirt crunched underfoot as Callum used what strength he had left to haul the drunkard home. Had Emily not shot him a worried glance, Callum wouldn't have spared a second thought when Shane stumbled his way out of the saloon a few minutes ago.

"I didn'- hic- ask.. for your help." Shane slurred into an irritated grumble as he tried, with little success, to untangle himself and shove Callum away.

Much as Shane protested, the farmers' help wasn't truly unwelcome. He had overindulged, and he knew it; making it home without giving a kiss to the ground would be nearly impossible. At least this way, with a foreign firm hand pressed against his chest and an arm supporting his back, he'd be able to stay upright on the long walk back to the ranch.

"Yeah, well-" Callum grunted, shifting the other's weight against his hip to keep them both upright and moving, "how 'bout you just focus on not tripping both of us instead."

The tense silence that followed was... palpable at best. Both men were more occupied with the simple goal of getting home than having a conversation, and Shane was... grateful.

i write/draw sometimes but i very rarely post it so. yeah.

If you ever need me to tag a specific tw or anything, please let me know!! It's not a problem, I promise!

She shook her head, smiling a little. "No. Thanks for asking, though."

"Always." He moved his hands to her hips, turning her to face him. "You're so beautiful, you know?"

"And you're so cheesy," she teased, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He smirked. "But you love it."

"Yeah, I do." She pulled him close, and kissed him softly.

Once they'd both pulled away, he sighed. "I will never get enough of you."

We know that he wears one around his neck in 92sies and that one has special significance to him, but I really like the idea that he also just collects keys

Canon era: he doesn’t have to many, mostly bc he doesn’t really have a place to get them or a safe place to keep them

- obviously the one around his neck is special (maybe a key to the place he used to live before he became a newsie?)

- he gets the few he does have from finding them on the streets where they’ve usually been dropped or lost / some of the brooklyn newsies he’s close with bring him any that they find 

- the ones he does have he selects carefully hc he has limited space and keeps most of them on him 

Modern era: He’s got a good collection going, lots of them are just failed copies of keys to the places he’s lived but a key is a key it doesn’t matter if it actually opens anything

- he doesn’t really stumble upon or find them like in canon era, and when he does he makes a good effort to find whoever lost it before he even considers keeping it

- once his friends find out they’ll give him failed copies of keys to their apartments / keys to places they don’t live in anymore that no longer work - he thinks this is really nice and appreciates it but has a hard time saying that to them (they know anyways)

- his favorites are lying around in his room / on display / his favorite is still kept around his neck / all the rest of them are kept organized on key chains (one of the few things he really cares about keeping organized) - keychain groups are grouped by A) color b) size or c) who gave it to him

I was tagged by @gremlinquisitor to post the first line of my WIP, this is from a maybe-never-to-finish fic... oops!

rules: post the first line of one of your wips and tag as many people as there are words. If it’s already started posting, then the first line of the next chapter to be published.

“You would have liked my brother,” Adaar said, one of the few times she spoke of him, “I really think you would have gotten on well.”

"I'm assuming from the bloody lip and black eye that you got into a fight."

"Well- yes- but also-"

"I thought we talked about this?"

Jackie sighed, crossing his arms. "Not the point! We can worry about that later! Now listen to me!"

Marvin rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered.

"Look, okay, so," the hero started, smiling. Or at least, he tried, because it hurt. "I was just out, doing night patrols, when I heard a scream. Of course, I went to see what the commotion was. Then I saw Carrie! She was really close with my sister, and when Mandy passed, I stopped talking to Carrie. This was the first time I'd seen her in years, and she was in trouble!"

The magician just stared silently, listening to his friend enthusiastically tell his story. Usually, Jackie didn't talk about his family- and when he did, he ended up crying.

Jackie kept talking fast. "But like, Carrie was always really cool. I liked when she was around. So I stopped and said 'Hey! What's going on here?' And her and this guy turned to me. She didn't realize it was me, but she did look at me weird. So it turns out nothing was really happening, they were just playing around and he- her boyfriend, apparently- just spooked her!"

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Jackie nodded. "I was really concerned, and I made sure she wasn't hurt. I told her she could tell me and I'd happily take him to the police. She kept assuring me that she was okay, and even showed me that she wasn't hurt at all. Then I left. Just- trust me."

"So... How'd you end up in a fight...?" Marvin asked, confused.

"Oh. Yeah. I stopped a bank robbery a couple minutes after that."

"You did WHAT?"

---

After Marvin patched Jackie up, he sat down on his bed to rest a little. He was exhausted. Using magic all day did that to you.

The hero sat down next to him, and quietly curled up by his side. Marvin didn't really do anything about it, he felt too tired to tell him to move. Besides, it was kinda nice. Jackie's hyper attitude had died down, and all was quiet.

"Marvy?" Jackie whispered after a bit.

"Yes, Jackie?"

"I miss my sister, a lot," he said softly. "Do you miss your family? You don't talk about them..."

Marvin tensed up, then shrugged. "There's good reason for that."

"Is it because of your scars and stuff?" The hero asked.

"What? Do you think they did all that? No! Not at all!" Marvin responded quickly. "Don't think that! No, my parents were great. We were just... Never close. And I don't have siblings." His parents? Great? He almost laughed at himself for saying that.

"Oh." Jackie mumbled.

After a few moments, the hero sat up and hugged his magician friend. "I'm glad you're not fucked up."

Marvin chucked a little. "Don't worry, I am."

"What?!" Jackie gasped, gripping him tighter. "What does that mean?!"

"That's a joke. Mostly."

The hero huffed. "If I was a rude person, I'd chuck your mask across the room, since you're such a trickster." He looked up at Marvin, glaring.

Marvin looked down at him, playfully rolling his eyes. "You wouldn't dare. You know I'd destroy you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Sure," he muttered, snuggling into Marvin's side. "Do you know how much you're really like a cat?"

"I'm sure I've been told that," the magician smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~