#but yeah idk I think it was really good and I really like her

[cosmicluvcore]

To be human part 2

Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender neutral, friends to lovers, himbo Leo (?), one sided pining

Part 1 here

Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a clooking broach he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!

☆

Idk if you can tell but this is kinda Aladdin inspired

Also I wasn't sure abt posting this since it has no Y/N interactions umm so sorry if you're dissapointed

I promise the next one will have fluffy moments between Y/N and Leo!! Sorry this is short

Tag list!!

@lunaflyer @wings-of-sapphire @ssak-i @nessarolla-in-constant-flux @envyjmoney

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"¿Qué hice para merecer esto?" Is what the disgruntled Señor Hueso muttered under his breath, as he watched Leo come crashing into his restaurant.

Of all the times that mutant decides to show up, it had to be on a good day. A loud sigh left the skeleton's mouth as he watched the turtle bump into one of his waiters, knocking all the dishes out of her hand.

"Señor! Señor!" Leo called out eagerly as he approached, "I have a really, really important request and you have to-"

He was interrupted by Hueso placing his hand up, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

"Instead of disturbing my guests, Pepino, let's talk in the staff room."

~

Leo was still wiping spilled spaghetti off himself as he spoke. Amazingly, that didn't stop his excited flow.

"Señor, bone head, buddy! Long time no see, right?" Leo asked in an overly friendly manner, offering Hueso a hand.

Hueso glanced at his hand, which had marinara sauce on it, before glancing back at Leo with an unimpressed expression.

"Uf hijo, did you just come here to cause trouble?" He asked rather bluntly.

Leo chuckled to himself, "Of course not! I just came here for a little... help."

"Help?" Hueso repeated, tilting his head as he watched Leo's over excited behavior.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me get my hands on a cloaking brooch." He explained briefly while wiping away the bit of sauce that was on his shoulder.

"A cloaking brooch?" Hueso repeated raising his brow, "Why would you need one of those? I've seen you walk among humans like it's nothing."

"It's not for that."

Leo bit his lip unsure whether he should let the truth spill, no one knew of his little crush and he was afriad if he started talking about them he wouldn't know when to stop. So he took the easier route.

"It's for uh- You know... science." He lied, smiling awkwardly as if that made his reply more believable.

Señor Hueso simply shot him an unconvinced expression.

"Este idiota..." The skeleton muttered under his breath, "Why don't you just say why you really want it? It would save you from the embarrassment of lying to my face."

Yeah, Hueso wasn't buying it. Figures.

"Okay okay, I'll admit that wasn't my best performance," Leo said with a grin, although his trade mark smirk faded into a small frown as Hueso stared back at him with narrowed eyes.

"Truth is I'm trying to impress someone..." He admitted quietly, his gaze darting to the ground, while he fidgeted with his hands sheepishly.

Hueso blinked in surprise at the turtles sudden shyness, "Trying to impress someone?" He repeated curiously, looking back to the blushing turtle for futher confimration.

Leo bit his lip, his heart fluttering at the thought of them, "A human." He confessed softly.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before, they're just perfect in every way!" He explained brightly, though his happy expression faultered, "But, I don't think they'd be interested in, this whole situation." He frowned, gesturing to himself.

Hueso nodded slowly as he listened, "I see," He hummed in reply, looking thoughtful as he considered Leo's situation for a moment, "So you want to pretend to be human and lie to them?"

Leo frowned at the skeletons blutness, "It's not a lie! I'm just... bending... the truth," He said, his brow furrowing as he spoke.

Even he didn't believe himself this time.

"Alright it's kinda a lie, but what other chance do I have?"

"I don't know, tell them the truth?" Hueso retorted, Leo couldn't help but roll his eyes as he was lectured on the obvious answer, "If you really think this person is worth it, then you should be honest with them."

"The last thing I need to be is honest." The turtle insisted stubbornly, his expression souring at the idea of even attemping to tell his crush how he felt.

Leo hated to picture it, he hated that he knew his voice would tremble as he would try his best to convey to them how deeply he felt.

He hated how he knew he would stammer over his words as he scrambled to find the best way to express his feelings.

And then he would have to wait impatiently for their reply, fearing the worst, after this new discovery.

Not like he could blame Y/N.

Who wouldn't turn down a nervous idiot? And why would anyone ever be interested in someone who looks like him?

"I don't want to risk losing them." Leo finally said, sighing before meeting Hueso gaze again with a serious expression.

"Look, all I need is a brooch. I just want a chance to be with them and make them happy. Please, Señor?"

As Hueso watched Leo's sad expression he was still unsure how to reply, he knew this was an awful idea yet Leo seemed so attached to it. The puppy dog eyes that the blue masked turtle was giving him eventually casused a defeated sigh escape Hueso's mouth.

"Fine, I have a spare somewhere around here," Hueso muttered reluctantly, too tired to keep pushing, turning to his desk and opening a drawer, "Just don't blame me when things go terribly wrong."

Leo's expression immediately brightened.

"Really?!" He leaned over Señor Hueso's shoulder, eagerly watching as the skeleton searched.

Eventually, Hueso found it, a gold gemstone-adorned brooch.

As Leo looked at the badazzled brooch, excitement began to bubble in his chest, the glamorous item really did make this whole situation seem a lot cooler. This was his key to being Y/N's perfect romantic partner, something he'd dreamed of for far too long that was now finally a possibility. His heart soared at the thought.

"Here," Hueso said, handing him the brooch, "Try not to get spaghetti on it, Pepino."

Leo was practically vibrating with excitement as the brooch was placed into his hands. He nodded at Hueso's words despite not really hearing them.

"Thanks Señor! I can keep this right?" He asked.

"Just don't damage it." Hueso warned in reply, "If you do, it could stop-"

But before he got the chance to finish his words, Leo had disappeared into another blue portal.

"-working..."

#Spotify #rottmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leo x you #rottmnt tbh #rottmnt to be human #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x you #tbh #to be human #rottmmt x gn reader #gn reader #rottmnt leo x y/n #rottmnt leo x gn reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt Leonardo #rottmnt himbo leo #tmnt x reader #Idk if this is himbo #hes being a bit of a silly billy rn #but its because hes excited #senor hueso #rottmnt senor hueso #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #rise x reader #rise leo x reader #rise of the tmnt x reader

[patentedsun]

You guys I'm actually crying over chapter 204.5 (which is technically an ad for a certain company we're all boycotting btw) but ignoring the actual ad THE STORYLINE WAS SO??? GOOD???? the Natsu characterization in this was INCREDIBLE (be prepared for intense 100yq hatred) and it portrayed exactly why I fell in love with nalu in the first place....

Summary and analysis below (doesn't incl all the pages btw!!)

We start off with Lucy finding Natsu and Happy at her place, as always.

this is followed by him being like "do you think we'll peek or something" which... 100yq natsu would have... that IMPOSTER...

Anyways while she's taking a bath, Natsu and Happy are browsing around Lucy's room and find a book that stands out. (Btw right next to this book is her diary, 100yq natsu would've gone straight for that). However they end up accidentally destroying it and start panicking. They ask Lucy if they can "borrow it" and Lucy panics at first, saying it's precious and not to touch it, but relents when they say they found it "interesting".

fast forward, we see them worn out after trying and failing to find a replacement copy. ONCE AGAIN, they're doing this because it's something precious to LUCY. Not because they care about reading, or because the book has any value to them, but because they understand it's important to HER. Natsu (and Happy) going the extra mile for things that are important to Lucy is SUCH AN IMPORTANT PART of their entire dynamic.

continuing, Lucy walks into the guild and asks how they're finding the book, they say it's interesting. Lucy gets SUPER EXCITED ABOUT THIS and starts talking non stop ab the book. Happy asks her why this book is so important to her and...

Y I K E S.

So yeah, they ultimately decide that lying isn't it and they should apologize upfront.

this is so beautiful to me, idk like the imagery of them bowing so sincerely is so.... and like wow MASHIMA seems like natsu IS capable of acknowledging his own wrongdoings and offering genuine apologies. I'm not even talking ab the whole post tartaros situation no, I'm talking about fucking 100yq, where natsu actually physically hurts Lucy and doesn't apologize for it (AND IN FACT ITS PLAYED FOR A GAG)(IMPOSTER!!! NOT MY NATSU!!!)

Soooo Lucy doesn't take it well and runs away.

the fact that they didn't stop their search here. the fact that they EXPANDED it to other towns to try and find her the book THIS IS JUST <3333

Anyways, Lucy returns and reveals dozens of copies of the book...

My heart actually broke for her here because as someone who ig creates stuff as well, it really can be painful to have no audience interaction. And to have a book you wrote bomb like that...ouch... and of course she would've been excited, her best friends told her they found it interesting!!! my HEART. OUCH. and the sheer guilt on Natsu and Happy's faces here 😭 Once again, 100yq would've played this off for a gag...

And they all start bawling (and the ad comes in so I will stop there) but YEAH. THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL??? The way she's regretful too, the way they're still trying to apologize and make her feel better I'm :(. This is what makes nalu work and it feels like mashima is forgetting that ab his own work... they're both genuinely good and kind to each other... like not to get sidetracked but there has always been goofy fanservice moments but there were also so many wonderful, emotional, complex scenes with them with depth and maturity and I just feel like that's lacking now. So reading this was like getting punched in the face srsly because wow... THIS is the natsu I know and love ugh .....

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #natsu #lucy heartfilia #nalu #natsu appreciation #pro nalu #lucy heartfilia appreciation #seriously i got so emotional over this #100yq rant #anti 100yq

[ghouljams]

ooogh you get me

im a major fallout girlie i loooove your interpretations… but yeah ghost would be a ghoul there’s no way. he crawled out of the remnants of a fucked up vault that had too many roaches for comfort. gaz the more that i think about it would so be a ranger.. imagine his ass in the Mojave overlooking the area and complaining about the legion (and how little reinforcements there are) while talking to his pretty courier

tbh soap as a mechanic also makes sense but i could see him as like brotherhood knight or hangin around the followers (like yknow how raul ran around for a bit then was a mechanic like that but a really hyper for the apocalypse guy who really likes power armor mods and mods in general) and ur take for price is correct no notes

oh and how do we feel about könig as a mutant… or maybe legion? or possibly just a fucking monster like frank horrigan or a weird brotherhood knight.. but frank was also just a mutant so idk

Gaz as a ranger just makes sense to me, he's scoring lots of good boy points that he's using to convince his pretty courier that they are not, in fact, being held hostage by him. He's just following them around to make sure they're safe, no other reason. (He's watching you sleep and palming himself to the thought of you shooting a death claw clean between the eyes)

See I like Soap as someone lowkey on the run, maybe a former brotherhood knight, but someone that Price wants on his team and is trying to track down. Just very appealing to me, and lends itself well to my thought of "he saw you, he liked you, he grabbed you and ran." He's already on the move, why not take the pussy to go, y'know?

König as a super mutant... *fanning myself* he wears the hood so he doesn't scare the pretty vault dweller than stumbles upon him after she's kicked out of her vault as a sacrifice. I think much like Price He's built a bit of a cult for himself. He's smart, he knows what he has to do to live a long and happy life. He also knows that if he grabs the vault dweller that cries about being a sacrifice and brings her back to his little cult he can swing it as proof that he's favored by God and thus the rightful king of the land. And also, y'know... he's gonna breed her.

#ghoul speaks #thank u i am right about price #no notes he's perfect and he's doing what hes supposed to #i think Ghost makes many jokes about being “textured for your pleasure” and makes you grind against every inch of him to prove it #shit i could write that as a fic #fallout au

[fadingdaggerr]

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

[ironbatpaperturtle]

How about Michael gives Adam a ring? He has no reason why he gave Adam a ring. He just saw a pretty ring and thought “Adam would look good in this” and bought it (that’s how rich he is).

Ring varies depending on the AU.

S2Adam: Assuming Sinner!Adam gets Pride Ring’s color scheme of red and black, the ring would be black with ruby red stones. Unfortunately, since he’s in hell, Adam doesn’t want anything to happen to the ring. It’s hidden but it’s always with him wherever he goes. If he’s feeling brave, the most he’ll wear the ring would be like a necklace.

Time Travel Adam: Ring is silver with a blue stone (Maybe Aquamarine? Sapphire? Or Lapis) and small white diamonds. Adam wears it all the time (another reason for the Royal Family allegations) on his left hand. Michael was the one to put it there though. I don’t think Michael knows what giving someone a ring and putting it on their left hand mean. Or maybe he does but Adam assumes he doesn’t. Either way, Adam never stopped Michael from doing so.

Your AltDimension Adam: The ring would be melted scraps of metal because it’s the most Michael could do in their messed up world. But he always kept an eye out for a beautiful stone. He was never able to find a gem though

That AltDimension made me tear up a bit. Only a bit. Wtf thats so cutee.

I would find it really romantic if Adam just let Michael put a ring on his finger. The rings have these small meanings that both Adam and Michael don't realize.

Michael understands the prospect of a good ring. Y'know all the necessary shit. Never ever tungsten. Gold, diamond, shit like that. The meaning behind each ring

Adam never had a ring. But he knows that it means marriage. But he'd be all like yeah whatever. Go ahead.

Frieren, a scene there was Frieren picking a random ring, not knowing its meaning and then Himmel immedietly knows and he kneels down to attach it to her ring finger.

It was so sweet and yeah. Idk

[eyelessfaces]

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here” 

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fluff #star wars #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #poe dameron angst

[kazoologist]

Every Current Formula 1 Driver But I Decided They Were All Bugs

No Thoughts, Head Empty, Only Insects I Enjoyed From My Single Entomology Class Several Years Ago. Sorry to folks from outside the states. Most of these are like. my local critters.

Max Verstappen - Appalachian Jewelwing, Calopteryx angustipennis I have no reasoning behind this one. He just gives me the vibes of a damselfly kinda man.

Sergio Pérez - Synoeca Cyanea, a species of warrior wasp, or just the Synoeca genus again, literally no justification besides he's on the dark blue team and I just really like these wasps. Please read the Synoeca wikipedia page. they are SO cool.

Lewis Hamilton - Violet Carpenter Bee, Xylocopa violacea fashionable! cool lookin bee!

George Russell - Blue Hawker, Aeshna cyanea

Charles Leclerc - Cattle Killer/Cow Killer, Dasymutilla occidentalis (letting my south midwestern hick jump OUT here. most folks call em velvet ants)

Carlos Sainz - Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta

Lando Norris - Walker's Cicada, Megatibicen pronotalis this is NOT meant to be a drag I actually love these freakishly loud animals but he just gives bright green cicada energy.

Oscar Piastri - Green Carpenter Bee, Xylocopa aerata cop out? yeah. good bee and something that feels correct? yes.

Fernando Alonso - Mourning Cloak, Nymphalis antiopa i love these fuckin bugs. absolute freaks of nature. they live for like a full year and they're always wandering around and getting up to something. plus they're very distinguished.

Lance Stroll - Common Buckeye, Junonia coenia I'm not even gonna elaborate on this one.

Valtteri Bottas - Eastern Cicada Hawk, Sphecius speciosus I just think they're neat!

Zhou Guanyu - Ebony Jewelwing, Calopteryx maculata blatant favoritism here. The ebony jewelwing is perhaps my all time favorite bug from home :) (its also v stylish)

Esteban Ocon - Chinese Mantis, Tenodera sinensis a noble creature that frequently scares the life out of me when i find one outside my window. Why the fuck are you so long. I appreciate u anyway.

Pierre Gasly - European Field Cricket, Gryllus campestris he just *feels* a bit crickety. Idk what to tell u man.

Kevin Magnussen - Halloween Beetle (or in America, the Japanese Lady Bug), Harmonia axyridis the most determined little bastard in the animal kingdom. They WILL get into your apartment through that microscopic sliver in the window.

Nico Hulkenberg - Green June Beetle, Cotinis nitida idk dude he just serves local scarab

Daniel Ricciardo - Black-And-Yellow Mud Dauber, Sceliphron caementarium im sure you are all noticing how much i love wasps by now. i was SO brave not making this a wasp only post. if ur american and a hick (hey girl(gn) hey) you'll know these guys From Constantly Being In Your Car's Inner Workings

Yuki Tsunoda - Bullet Ant, Paraponera clavata tiny but mighty!!!!! (short king solidarity)

Alex Albon - Great Black Wasp, Sphex pensylvanicus yet more blatant favoritism for my faves. Yes this post is so i can assign the williams boys and zg my fave types of local bugs. Anyway. this is one of the best wasps in the world. if u see her irl please stop for a moment to appreciate her. she's usually a docile species but she is very big and i love her. (good hunter too)

Logan Sargeant - Blue Dasher, Pachydiplax longipennis the ultimate late spring and all of summer insect of america. voted america's sweetheart of every local body of water eight millionth year in a row!!!! one of the best dragonflies in the country and i am serious!!! if u live in north america this summer, find a LAKE, a POND, A RIVER, perhaps even a CREEK!!!!!! A POOL WILL EVEN GET YOU! you'll find these folks. at current you might catch mating flight season!!! anyway. these are crazy good hunters and they're a beautiful little baby blue shade. anyway. logan and the rest of williams should go huntin for these when he gets back to florida. think it would fix em.

#zoomies posting #kazoo noises #babys first f1 season #sports posting #i said id do it and i was very serious #also sorry for the funky ordering i did this like in order that i thought of them and then had to match the teammates to whoever i did firs #this is why williams are the last ones here. i could NOT decide which wasp alex was gonna be

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Hi hello and howdy

Since I can't contain my thoughts here's all the "Mirage" logicistics. Basically they either swap or enhance ones personality, heres a few examples:

Mirage Lenore is way more looney and impulsive, with a practically nonexistant off switch having to be dragged off screaming before she sets anything on fire, her group mainly sticks with her for fear of their own lives and she and Annabel are ALLOWED TO BE GAY!!! HOORAY!!! They still have the pretend to hate each other thing but thats mainly due to Annabel's paranoia

Mirage Duke is a shit magician who constantly looses parts of his tricks, he's also like WAYYY too overdramatic, the kinda mf to fall over if you steal his chip,

"MY CHIP!!"

"Its... its just a crisp.."

"I WAS GOING TO EAT THAT!"

"Oh my god..."

So yeah, pathetic cringefail looser LMFAO, but he is the kinda person to pull a "OMG MY BEST FRIEND! MOVE!" And shove whoever out of his way

Mirage Pluto is if you took a wet cat and made him a golden retriever. He's very hyperactive, social, easily distracted. Mf is like "wanna hear abt my hyperfixations?!" Talks and doesn't wait for an answer a neat thing i did with some characters Mirage's is i inverted stuff abt them like hair, emblems, all that. He still thinks M! Duke's magic is cool

Mirage Berenice is a feral little creature, constantly biting or nibbling on things (mainly Eulalies arm, or her own. I dont think chewlery exists in the victorian era). She's also the queen of being unhinged, in spectre form shes somewhat normal at least. For the most part she's in her own world

Mirage Eulalie is the mean autistic, less into creepy/old things n thinks their lame and/or weird. She's the one dragging Berenice around and keeping the gang from falling apart. Her and M! Morella really out here sharing the only group braincell, shes also blunt as fuck and wont hesitate to tell you you look bad. I wanted to lean more into the japanese part of her character so she just kinda- speaks more of it now (lol idk how else to explain it)

Mirage Morella, like M! Eulalie, is a mean autistic. She's less emotional, and more of "I dont give a damn just get me out of here.", sticks with whatever group she's feelin that day tbh. Won't tell you you look bad, will probably just call you a dumbass and leave

Mirage Annabel is kinda like regular Annabel but without the "Life is like chess" mentality. So more jumpy, kinda a walking talking mental breakdown waiting to happen. Excess paranoia and increase of hallucinations cus pookie and I decided we aren't giving her a break

Mirage Prospero is no longer fancy and polite, he is sopping wet germaphobic wet cat. He will go through great lengths to avoid disease, faints around blood and puke, screams at the sight of his own rats (or just rats/bugs in general), actively raising his and Annabel's blood pressure with how scardy he is.

Mirage Montresor is imo the funniest one cuz he's just a polite little gentleman, doin all the chivalry shit like opening doors, pushing chairs in and out, saying his pleases/thank yous/welcomes, he's even calling everyone "Sir" and "Ma'am". He's still an asshole, but you really gotta provoke him to see that

Tbh, I didn't think much abt Mirage Will since Will to me is kinda just there as Monty's lackey who gets kicked around. SO he's less of a pushover, more demanding, up and refuses what people tell him, bullies M! Monty, he tried bullying M! Ada and M! Morella but bro got his ass kicked. On top of it, he's unfortunately more sexist and stubborn. No more people pleasing ig 🤷‍♀️

Finally, Mirage Ada. What I wanted to do for her is have her be an absolute girlboss who is always serving 100% of the time. Everything she does is her choice and for her and her friends, and and and shes Aroace too, pretty chill when she has to reject someone just like:

"Hey i like u"

"Oh! I don't feel the same but we can still be friends?"

"Ok"

EPIC HIGH FIVE

She also beat M! Will up, good for her

So uh, yeah! Thats all i got. If you have questions, feel free to comment or ask in the askbox. :)

#nevermore webcomic #annabel lee webtoon #nevermore webtoon #lenore nevermore #lenore vandernacht #annabel lee whitlock #annabel lee nevermore #duke nevermore #pluto nevermore #eulalie nevermore #berenice nevermore #prospero nevermore #will nevermore #morella nevermore #nevermore fanfic

[petruchio]

You claim to like Taylor, but you’ve been absolutely brutal since TS11 dropped… like I don’t like the name either but I’m not gonna say half the album was unnecessary

yeah fair enough! i mean idk i feel like i tend to be pretty brutal in my takes in general, but like i obviously do love taylor and i have for years (i've literally written multiple essays defending debut on this blog) -- i think she consistently releases some great stuff, and to that end, i really do think there is some really good stuff on this album. (for example i think the black dog is one of her best breakup songs in a while, and i think the melody in but daddy i love him is absolutely spectacular.)

i think my beef with this album in particular is mainly that i feel like it's just the culmination of every marketing technique that worked on the last few albums (no lead single, releasing a bunch of vinyl variants, extra songs dropping after the midnight release, etc.) such that it's honestly soured my opinion on it as a work of ART -- because the album feels so conscious of itself as a PRODUCT. so when i say half the album is unnecessary it's not to say i think all the songs are bad, but that i think it's just exemplary of putting profit over artistic integrity and it just rubs me the wrong way. but that's just me! i mean i've seen plenty of people with alternate opinions on the number of songs, i think i just feel cynical about it because to me it's so blatant BECAUSE of the way the last several albums were marketed (you'll notice she hasn't released a lead single since fearless tv. and it's because it boosts first day streams... i'm not criticizing it as a tactic, like go off taylor, but it just annoys me on principle)

but idk. i mean i do think she's brilliant -- i think there's always some amazing stuff on the albums. my issue is that ever since lover, i've felt like the albums are just... a bit unfocused? (except FOLKLORE!!) so i feel frustrated with all her recent releases, because i just want them to be a little tighter, the imagery a little cleaner, the lyrics just a little more polished. like, it's all IN THERE! she really is that good!! it's just bogged down with the rest of... everything else.

#is that fair? like idk i dont actually think the album is that bad!! i just think its bloated #i think especially in music -- pop music -- the shorter and cleaner the work is the better it tends to be #but thats just my opinion. and who am i to say im just a random girl! #ttpd #answered #anonymous

[magnetosfavorite]

here's a snippet of the cherik dads (and then there's you) sequel idk if i'll ever post <3

(they had another baby! it's david! hurt/comfort! love! nina is about 3 here.)

Charles wants to weep when Erik comes in the door, Nina propped on his hip. He still feels so fucking weird, emotions everywhere, freezing cold from the analgesia, head fuzzy from the pain meds. They’ve taken David to the NICU, because he was too early, and he’ll get to come back for skin-to-skin time later, but Charles is so muddled and doesn’t know when later is. God, it’s so good to see them.

“See?” Erik says, rubbing her little back with one big hand. “Daddy’s okay. He’s right here.”

“Hi, Neens,” Charles says, swallowing the thickness in his throat.

She turns her head into Erik’s neck, holding onto him tighter. Erik frowns down at her, then at Charles.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Erik asks, voice low. He crosses the room, sitting in the chair at Charles’s bedside. She doesn't look up the whole time.

Nina lets out an aggravated sob, and Charles has to stop himself from ordering Erik to hand her over. “Daddy,” she whimpers, but she keeps clinging onto Erik.

“Don’t you want to see him?” Erik says gently. He’s such a good father, so patient. It’s started up the tears again, and poor Erik shifts Nina to one arm so he can hold Charles’s hand. Charles squeezes, letting it anchor him.

They can’t both cry, so he gets it together while Nina starts properly sniffling.

She was so excited to see you, I promise, Erik nudges into his mind. Charles thinks if he tries to respond, he might give Erik amnesia or something. Instead, he gives him a tight smile.

“I’m okay, bug,” he tries.

She manages a tearful look at him, all big eyes. Her cheeks are bright red. “Daddy,” she mumbles mournfully.

“There’s my girl.” Charles isn’t sure how long he can stand it, not being able to soothe her. “It’s a bit scary at the hospital, yeah?” She peeks at him a little more directly, so he keeps going. His head is still swimming, but Erik’s rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, and he can comfort his baby on autopilot at this point. “If you get too scared, Papa can take you home, okay?”

She shakes her head, scrunching up her face like she’s going to cry again. Charles rushes to add, “You can stay, baby, of course you can. My brave girl.”

Finally, finally, she reaches out for him. “I don’t think–” Erik starts to say, but Charles admonishes him quickly.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Erik looks dubious, but he stands up and hands her to Charles, who tucks her against his chest carefully. Her face is wet and snotty and hot, and she holds on tight and mashes it against his throat. He squeezes her tight, ignoring the leaden feeling in his arms. “Hi, love, I missed you so much,” he whispers into her hair.

“Daddy,” she hiccups. He can tell as he rubs her back that she’s starting to fizzle out. “Missed you.”

Chest aching, Charles kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be home soon, okay? I’m just a little poorly. The doctor will fix it.” He knows she’s not going to like that answer, but she wants comfort and sleep more than she wants to pitch another fit. He just keeps holding her, carefully away from where he’s sore. They’ll be a family of four when they go home, but right now it’s him and his best girl and the comforting knowledge that Erik’s here.

Erik’s in his mind, too, just faintly, fond and loving and a bit awed, which Charles doesn’t really understand.

When Nina falls asleep, Charles just about does too.

“I’m gonna let my mom have her one more night,” Erik says quietly, somewhere at his side. “I want to be here, since you can’t go down to see David yet.”

Charles lets him extract Nina, as much as it makes him want to cry again. He wants his babies, both of them, here.

Erik appears again after a moment, though, and sits beside him carefully. “If you rest, you’ll be able to see them soon,” he says, leaning down to kiss his temple. He’s not sure if he’s leaking emotions or if Erik just knows him. “Everything’s alright. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Can you just—” His tongue is getting thick, but Erik understands, sitting next to him and stroking his hair. Charles registers that he’s probably going to sleep at the hospital, too. Maybe he should feel guilty, but. The feeling of safety blankets him instead.

“There you are,” Erik murmurs, scratching his scalp. “Just rest. You’re so good.”

It works, because it’s Erik, and they’re together, and that means it’s going to be alright.

#cherik fic #cherik #cherik dads #kidfic #idk here u go #my fic

[beybuniki]

they should go on a fishing trip pt.1

#DONT COMMENT ON THE BACKGROUND I KNOWWWWWWWWWWWW #anyway this is day 1. they take a bus. the bakugo household has fishing gear so ´deku is wearing bakugo's onesoe (?) and bakugo is wearing #his dad's. and notices he has grown :') #anyway they take a BUS and don't feel like doing this at all it's awkward for so many reason #also trying to relax after everything is neurologically just really hard they might be hyperivgilant dik #and there's so much they never got to unpack bnut they have to and they have to start somewhere and with someone #deku makes that flower crown while bakugo preps everything and they both look at it and are thrown back into their childhood 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ #and at first they just sit and wait for the bavarian fish to bite (rody should make a cameo tbh) but then bakugo breaks the iceeee. #and he starts with their moms because their moms have been such a stubbron connection between these two :') #and deku answers with the usual 'good :) how's your mom :)?' and to everyone's surprise he actually opens up #and tells deku about his mom's insomnia because she watched her son die (that shit was live streamed tpo 10 bnha tweets btw) #idk i love to think of their moms being a very easy subject to connect through i think it's easier for them that way to be more vulnerablei #and then some fish biteeeeeeeeeeee #but like 3 small ones so they have to gather berries and mushrooms and make stew (dw there's an aldi this is bavaria after all) #but yeah day 1 is a bit weird like it's just them in the woods with no distractions #which is so different from whatever went on during their 1st year of high school #don't read this i will throw up i just need this somewhere this is my public scrapbook #bnha #deku #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #the flower crown on their knees makes this a bit homosexual but fishing is always homosexual im not fighting against that #au: #fishing

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo being put into a situation where there is absolutely no fighting, just verbal manipulation and perception games, would be amazing to witness. We see a lot in the series how good he is at subterfuge and how he uses his perception to manipulate to great effect, so it’d be so cool to really see it put to the test even more.

Manipulation is one of the most effective tactical strategies of all time, so just imagine Leo putting this skillset of his to the full test. Imagine the boys slowly get up to busting bigger and more powerful criminals, including those with networks of crime under their belt, and a simple fight isn’t enough to take them down. For criminals like this, Leo’s skills in subterfuge would be deadly.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #me back to talking about Leo’s incredibly high affinity for subterfuge #genuinely think it’s one of if not his best and most honed skill #AND IT’S A VITAL NINJA SKILL #above fighting battle tactics and the like #it’s verbal blindspots #Sun Tzu’s The Art of War literally states that “the greatest victory is won without battle’’ #and idk I think Leo would be so good at this and we see him do it in the show quite a bit but not to the amount I yearn for #but yeah like just think Leo getting sent in and his bros standing guard #of course he wouldn’t be the ONLY one involved but 100% he’d be the main player #man idk I just really really love when their specific skill sets that ARENT the fighting ones are used it’s so interesting to me #like we already know Leo can easily take in a whole room’s worth of people and know exactly how to avoid them all #we know he can manipulate manipulators into his schemes #we know he’s good at improv which is essential to the games of speech high end criminals like to play #it would be SO INTERESTING #OKAY HEAR ME OUT- #he’s asked by Big Mama to join her at a criminal ball of sorts #she needs to regain power and he needs to take down big name criminals #thus a deal #no but really it’s so cool seeing Leo specifically do his best tactics through thinking like his enemy and predicting how they’d act

[wizardnuke]

thought about professor caleb a little too hard. laying on the floor

#his fantasy ratemyprof is all 5stars and 1stars no in between. the fives majorly outweigh the ones but the ones are very strongly worded #about how he's really stringent on due dates (incorrect he just knows bullshit when he sees it) and extremely humorless (sometimes he #makes jokes that none of the students get and he thinks that's really funny so he keeps doing it) and grades harshly (absolutely) and goes #On and On about ethics (ABSOLUTELY) but the high ratings are split between 'super lame but a really good teacher' and 'he's NOT lame we #asked him to turn into a dragon and he DID' and 'my cousins gf swears she saw him and some monk kicking the shit out of someone in an #alleyway and idk why but i believe her. also when he teaches utility cantrips we get extra credit for pulling pranks on him with them. 5/5' #the difference is entry vs advanced classes. grad students are like 'yeah he goes to raves in nicodranas and won't take us with him'

[tibtew]

this image was always painful but now that we have more context on it, it's straight up just driving me insane

the fact that dongbaek and yi sang are at the front, but dongbaek is hiding her hands.... the fact that gubo is off to the side and looks anxious almost.... the fact that dongrang stands at the back (fully at the back, to me it looks like he's standing behind even the guy he's shoulder-to-shoulder to) and is the only one not looking at the camera, his heart not truly in it...

#okay wait I will expand on my points in the tags #imo the small detail of dongbaek hiding her hands is significant because dongbaek and yi sang were the most alike in what the league #meant to them and what they wanted out of it #but she never revealed the full extent of those feelings unlike him #meanwhile gubo was always there because of yi sang. I think I believe sang yi when he says that #(but I also believe yi sang when he says gubo cares more about himself) #so I think the idea of him being framed as part of this group sort of. Caught him off guard #I mean he didn't even seem fazed when shit went down #ik he's not really an emotional guy to begin with but he was just sort of like “the league has collapsed. Come With Me” #and he didn't even Blink at the idea of building a new one #so I yeah I think he just Didn't Really Care #txt #limbus company #yi sang #canto iv spoilers #canto 4 spoilers #canto four spoilers #addendum: idk what’s up with young-ji’s face being distorted but it keeps making me think #of that line dongrang says about his shitty imitation of the window #and the general motif of good concepts being misused/twisted that permeates the chapter #the fact that something He founded was torn apart and distorted like this… ugh

[tennessoui]

ganymede & zeus but make it obikin

been a while since i did a ficlet for tumblr....this comes out of a discord convo about ganymede!anakin and zeus!obi-wan......sort of dark tho gods are horrible beings with no boundaries

(for @jswander ) (2.3k)

Every muscle in Anakin’s body feels overextended and sore. He cries out from the sensation upon waking, instinctively trying to curl in on himself—anything to get away from the pain.

“Hush now,” a voice above him and below him and around him says. “None of that, beloved,” it speaks again when Anakin fights to tear open his eyes. “Sleep.”

There is nothing Anakin wants to do simultaneously more and less, but he’s never submitted under another’s thumb without a fight. With a great push of effort, he arches his back up, off the comfortable surface he’s laying on. And with what remains of his will, he wrenches his eyes open to survey his surroundings.

He cannot see a thing. White fills his vision, so bright and heated that it feels as if he is burning from the inside out, as if his very being is disintegrating the longer he looks at the light. It is blinding. It is everything. He cannot look away, nor can he close his eyes. His mouth has fallen open and he can hear himself screaming from the pain of it all, the radiance of the being in front of him.

“You stupid boy,” the voice snaps, sounding absolutely furious as the light coalesces into one solid shape, something that looks like a chest, then an arm, then a hand reaching towards him.

Anakin tries to scramble back, away from what will surely feel like a brand against his skin—and oh gods, doess he know what that feels like—but the hand extends faster than he can move, and even when he turns his head away, it catches him. It covers his eyes.

“Drink,” the voice murmurs, reverberating around him. Only then does Anakin notice that a cup has been brought to his lips. His lips seel themselves into a firm line. No. No. “You stupid child,” the voice snaps, “Do as you are told.”

It is the sheer power in the command that causes Anakin to open his mouth, to tip his head back. He is the lion among men, the Conqueror with No Fear, the Queen of Naboo’s Chosen Warrior, and yet—he opens his mouth and yields to the voice, to the hand over his eyes that burns. It feels like renewal, not pain, though that may be because every other part of his body still feels as if it is on fire, the aches from the first few moments of consciousness burning to ash under the pain of that radiance.

“Sleep,” the voice commands, and this time Anakin can do nothing but listen.

—---------

When he awakens next, he can tell from the breeze in the air that he has been moved. It is cool, and the breeze brushes against his skin like a gentle friend, running over his body to reach every part of him.

It is then he realizes that someone has stripped him of his clothes, his armor. He had been wearing armor. He had been preparing to lead his men into battle. He had—

The breeze in the air twirls around his chest and neck, caressing his skin until his nipples stiffen into peaks from the cold. Almost distantly, it sounds as if someone is laughing, an exhale over and over again that conveys their mirth, and Anakin can suddenly feel the breeze on his lips like a lover’s breath.

“Eurus, out,” a voice roars from somewhere that is everywhere and nowhere all at once. Anakin quakes from the sound of it, but the breeze withdraws, tosses out one last laugh that sounds almost like a cackle, before seemingly winking out of existence.

Anakin lies carefully still. The fabric beneath him feels soft, slippery. He’d been to the palace of Naboo only once to pay respect to the queen he fought his wars in the name of. Her personal chambers had been draped in a material that felt similar. So soft that it had felt then almost uncomfortable to touch. 

Anakin had been born a slave. He did not know soft things, nor how to languish against them. The queen had tried to show him how, had made such a persistent overture in the name of pleasure that he had sworn his loyalty to her name—but, privately, to her figure against those silks, the line of her throat, the tilt of her chin as she gave ground and submitted to his desires—and yet he still could never relax in the comfort her status and love had offered. He was not made for it.

He was not made for these silks either, though they certainly felt different against his skin. 

“You are too perfect for your own good, my darling,” the voice says quietly, a hand running through Anakin’s hair carefully. The motion is one filled with strange devotion. Tenderness. “Your beauty could start a war amongst the gods themselves, for they would all like to take you, to have you. Yet you are mine.” 

Anakin can feel his heart stutter at this declaration. The touch of his hair is no longer tender. It is proprietary. He opens his mouth, wets his lips. “I am no one’s,” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking. 

His defiance makes the voice laugh, a rich sound that reminds Anakin of the sounds of rocks tumbling down a mountainside. “You have sworn yourself to me, Anakin Skywalker, of course you are mine.”

“You are not my queen—“

“You would be wise to not speak of your infidelities so casually,” the voice snaps, and the hairs on Anakin’s arms stand as the air seems to fill with electricity. “You have no queen here.” 

Anakin is silent, his mind and heart racing. Has he been captured? Is he a slave again? He would rather die. 

“Open your eyes, darling. Look upon me and allow me to see the reward of my labor,” the voice turns soft again, coaxing, and the hand leaves his hair to trail down the side of his face, thumb brushing over the bow of his lips.

“Hurt,” Anakin manages to say. The thumb takes his parted lips as invitation and presses into his mouth to rest against his teeth. Anakin thinks about biting it, but there is something inside him that screams at him to be careful. To tread carefully around this voice. This man.

“I know,” the voice croons, “and I apologize for it, treasure. I had not expected you to wake so soon after your ordeal and was not prepared. Humans cannot bear to look upon my godly form. Those who have have perished. You have frightened me with your recklessness.” 

The thumb presses down hard before it withdraws.

“Open your eyes, Anakin,” the voice says. “Your king demands it.” 

Gingerly, carefully, Anakin opens his eyes.

He is met immediately with the sight of a man leaning over him. His face is lined with a well-kept beard, short and practical and dark red. His hair too is the same color of russet, pushed up and off his forehead in a rakish cut. His eyes though—Anakin cannot look away from them. They are glittering, electric blue. No—they are the color of the sky before a thunderstorm, whirling points of gray and dark blue. No—they the early morning sky in the north of Naboo, slate gray and bright.

“Hello there, darling,” the man says. He strokes Anakin’s cheek again, resting his broad hand against his skin.

Anakin can do nothing but stare. This man—he is handsome beyond imagination, but there is something in the set of his face, the jut of his lips, his jaw—perhaps something in his eyes that screams danger.

He is so perfect that he is almost unreal.

“I will miss the blue of your eyes,” the man murmurs, looking at him intently. Critically.

Hungrily.

“What?” Anakin whispers.

The man continues as if he has not heard him. “Yet there is something deeply satisfying in seeing your eyes stained gold from my blood. You wear it well, darling, your godhood.”

Anakin shakes his head. The man’s words—they do not make sense though he says them in the manner any sane man speaks. 

“Truly you were born to be mine,” the man whispers like a sacred declaration, and this finally causes Anakin to flinch away.

“I am no one’s,” he says again, shifting off the fabrics and pushing himself to stand. He was wrong earlier—he is not fully nude, though he thinks he’d prefer to be. There is a cloth like a skirt around his hips, though the fabric only covers the area between his legs, held together by clasps that lay against his hips. And even then, it is light and transparent and doing little to protect his modesty. His chest is bare, but his upper arms have been wrapped in gold coils, one short and one extending almost to his elbow.

The man before him has dressed him as a child would dress a doll and it infuriates him. He is Anakin Skywalker, a lion among men, and he will not suffer this.

“I am no one’s,” he declares with a snarl, turning upon the man and striding forward. “Release me at once!”

The man arches a singular eyebrow but otherwise appears completely unaffected. Anakin feels like roaring, like taking his face into his hands and ripping it apart. 

“Where am I?” He interrogates as he stalks towards the man. Though he is handsome and though he appears strong, his bare torso as visible as Anakin’s and just as well-muscled, Anakin is a warrior and broader than this man, taller too.

Anakin can beat him into submission. 

“Why have you taken me? Return me at once, and I will let you live! I am Anakin Skywalker, I am the Resolute, I am the warrior with no fear and the Queen’s intended. I—”

The man, whose face had been unflinching in response to Anakin’s threats, stands at the mention of the queen, beautiful features twisting into a wicked snarl as he suddenly meets Anakin in the middle. The temperature in the room grows cold and the air becomes heavy with electricity. With something that Anakin does not know how to name.

“If you mention your queen once more, I will kill her,” the man bites out, every word weighted with promise. “I will kill her and see her soul damned to Tartarus. I will take her there myself and string her up amongst her kin. Thieves and pillagers and all those mortals who were foolish enough to attempt to steal from the king of the gods.”

Anakin flinches away, some long buried instinct in him insisting that he put space between himseslf and the predator staring down at him. “Who—who are you?” he asks, question catching in his throat. 

The man’s eyes, stormy blue now and swirling in his rage, lighten at the question. His mouth relaxes. He appears to enjoy answering, for he takes his time with it. “I find myself offended that you have forgotten,” he says, moving to touch Anakin again.

Like a frightened rabbit that knows it has found itself in the jaws of a lion, Anakin lets the bejeweled hands cup his face.

“I am the man who bought you and your mother from your masters when you were but a child. And I am the boy who sold you fruits that never seemed to bruise, no matter how you handled them as you walked home. I am the cat that lurked outside the god king’s temple as you prayed to him for strength and skill and riches, promised yourself to him in return, promised to wage every war in his name, conquer in his colors. And I am the old man who trained you in battle, showed you how to fight and kill and conquer.”

Anakin shakes his head, struck speechless at these words. They are the ramblings of an insane man, but…but this man knows too much about him. No one knows that he was born a slave. Even when he fucked Padmé, he had made sure that she could not see the brand on his leg.

He latches onto the last words, shaking his head harder. “Ben was a crippled old man. You are—” handsome, is the only word that comes to mind.

As if the man has heard it in his head, he grins, gifting him with a flash of white teeth. “Yes, he was, wasn’t he? And you were so young then, all of eighteen years old and eager to prove yourself. I thought if I took my most preferred form, this form, you would never pay attention to my lessons. And I knew if you had offered yourself to me then, I would not have turned you down. Nor would I have let you leave.” Anakin shakes his head once more, but there’s no power in the motion.

“I was the eagle that flew above you as marched into battle, and I was the handmaiden who bore witness to your betrayal, when you promised yourself to the queen of Naboo, as if you had not already promised yourself to me.”

The scowl has returned, marring the man’s perfect features.

Anakin swallows, wetting his lips. “I promised myself to the king of the gods,” he whispers. “To Kenobi.”

“And he has made good on your promise,” the man smiles, one hand falling from his face to cup his neck. “He has taken you from your battlefield, delivered you to Mount Olympus. I have taken you as mine, I have taken what is mine.”

Deep within Anakin, he knows that the man before him speaks the truth. That he is no man at all. That—that—that he is—

“Kenobi,” he whispers, and the king of the gods lets his eyes flutter shut as if he hearing his name from Anakin’s lips causes him great pleasure.

“Yes,” Kenobi growls, adjusting his hold on him to tug him closer to his body.

Anakin is touching a god. A god is touching Anakin. The king of the gods has taken him from the battlefield, from the arms of his bride to be, from the mortal realm all together.

And he is holding him like he has no intention of letting him go.

#ganymede au #obikin #obi-wan here is very anti padme #that was mostly an accident #anyway i think anakin has some distant god in him so he didn't immediately die when he looked at obi-wan #but also obi-wan has been secretly giving him food and drink of the gods for his entire life #the fates said that anakin would be his eventually #obi-wan just got tired of waiting after 22 years of it #he saw anakin at 22 and swooped down to grab that #also idk i liked the idea of obi-wan's blood turning anakin's eyes gold but also healing him #there was a lot of things going on in my mind that did not make it into the story #most importantly that in a couple of days anakin is thrilled to be there #like it's not really dubcon much #much less dubcon than knocking on the wrong door au #oh also padme is definitely pregnant with the twins and obi-wan is gonna steal them too #ganymede au padme is like that one woman in greek mythology where shes sure the gods hate her specifically #and she's half right because obi-wan absolutely despises here #anyway im not gonna lie for a good two minutes i looked at my tumblr #and i was like oh no no one's sent an ask about this au so how do i post this ficlet?? #and then i was like oh yeah #i can just post it no ask required this is the first post in the au of course no one has sent an ask about it yet

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

if judit has 1 fan, that 1 fan is me

(harry's telling her some kind of stupid joke and judit's trying really hard not to laugh)

#my art #disco elysium #harry du bois #judit minot #harry x judit #was inspired to draw this image coz there was NOTHING in their ship tag #its really fun and cute to think about. so i figured why not manifest it #this is just a doodle so it's kinda sloppy #still dont have a good grasp on what they wear in elysium #but i do think they wear hats #jean dressed harry here btw. harry was gonna go out on his date looking like a fucking clown. russet blazer purple shirt green pants etc #harry asked kim hey do i look ok and kim was like yeah! you look like yourself #but then jean caught harry b4 he went to meet judit and jean was like harry no. none of this works #bc a fun little fact is that um. in my fics jean is good with fashion #also judit gothISH. i like to think shes counterculture and juuuust a little bit alt #kinda basing her 20s on my moms! going to rock concerts and shit. being part of the counterculture #judits 37 now i think #some kinda 1910s 1930s dress. idk #still need to figure out the fashions #bg is a picture i took #ALSO JUDIT TALL. SHES FUCKING SIX ONE. SHES JEANS HEIGHT #do you know how obsessed with that i am???? #also dw about harrys ropeburn scar. #also judit did her hair a little. curled it. normally its just flat choppy