#JUST BECAUSE ONE SINGULAR PERSON DOES NOT LIKE HIM WITH A BEARD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blacklegsanjiii · 8 months ago

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Your thoughts about Marco x Sora are so good omgggg (<- the anon who asked you about them)

I can't stop thinking about Sora being a pirate after some time, because she's already living on the Moby Dick and married with the First Commander, so why not? (Marco loves loves loves see her fight, actually)

And if the acesan happens would be very funny, and the StrawHats reaction about this?!

Welcome back and I'm glad you like it, truly i am obsessed with Sanji having good parental figures and Sora getting the love she properly deserves. Sora became a pirate in NBL so I don't see why she wouldn't here. Even if she played a more behind the scenes roll there.

Also we didn't really set a time frame for them? So like Sanji could be eight when they join the Shirohige. Sora and Sanji both freaked out by Marco flying them in his talons but they need to make a quick escape from the Navy and animal brain went 'mine' when he saw them. Marco's only explanation is to quite literally look at White Beard and go 'my bird brain went "oo shiny" so i had to bring them' which makes the man laugh so hard the Earth shakes. Vista starts calling him a crow and Marco sets him on fire with a singular look. Marco is so thankful Sanji and Sora are in the infirmary so they didn't see that.

Marco explaining his fruit to them and his place and job in the Shirohige fleet. How his fruit helps because it allows him to treat more than one person at a time or give enough time for back up to come. It doesn't always work. Marco uses it on Sora a lot first mostly because the poison is still affecting her and it's like a god send almost because his fire over time basically cures her. They also use the time to get to know each other and start "dating" because it's really hard to date as a pirate, or a doctor, or a fleet commander. All of which Marco is. They tell Sanji first and he approves of Marco and Sora and Sanji have already joined the crew so ya know, they just gotta tell the crew. The party is extravagant.

Sora makes a comment that she wants to be able to help defend the fleet and the family and Marco agrees and says they'll talk to Jozu and some others about training for her. Sanji is probably already training his kicks and everything because Thatch insists on protecting the kids hands and Jozu has been doing well with him. So them taking on Sora to train is nothing and Vista finds she does very well with a sword and his eyes light up as he looks at Marco and damns him for getting to her first. Marco says he better watch it and they scuffle.

Sanji has to set himself on fire at like thirteen. Marco is watching him and Sora train with Jozu and Vista only to then see his kid set his legs on fire and be thrown into the ocean. He flies out to collect his son and then laughs his ass off at Sora wailing on Vista and Jozu screaming about the dangers of throwing a child off a ship. Marco says she has that covered and checks Sanji over and yep, that's his over abundant(sensitive) haki. Marco says Sanji might be a good candidate for learning to sky walk which is like flying but not really. Sanji is fucking excited. Marco is also so thankful all the god damn time that he and Sora have their own room and they sound proofed it because Marco fully believes Sora hung the moon and the stars and pulls the sun up each morning. Sora has it just as bad back and thinks Marco makes the waves and sea foam. THEY ARE SO GROSS I LOVE THEM OMG

Also could you imagine Ace rocking up to kill the old man and is then held hostage and thinks that blondie around his age is super cute? Too bad he's in the shirohige and Ace fully plans to demolish the fleet until he's forcefully adopted with love and care. Like Ace has no clue what's going on at first because he looks at Marco and then the woman he knows is the guy's wife and just how draped over her he is, like they have to make everyone sick all the fucking time. They have some the highest bounties in the New World. Ace starts flirting with Sanji without a clue to who his parents are and Sanji just gives him that "oh darling" small smile while he leans on the railing and smokes.

During one of these flirting sessions Marco strolls up and is like 'Hey, Thatch said you're in charge of shopping this time, you can head to the island if you want' and Sanji nods and sky walks to the land mass. Marco laughs at that and takes Sanji's spot and gives Ace a smile. When he asks Ace what his intentions are with his son Ace goes pale and sinks to the deck as Marco fucking loses it. Marco pats his shoulder and says he takes after his mom just like Sanji takes after Sora and they approve of the relationship.

Sanji ends up joining the Straw Hat crew on the hunt for Teach and absolutely flirts with Ace in Alabasta who flirts back way harder. Like they are the remix of Sora and Marco and clingy flirting and draping okay? Marco said that's a Roger thing and White Beard 100% agreed with that assessment and said Marco is a bird that mated for life and Marco couldn't argue because his fruit some times overwrites his human nature.

Back on track: Ace and Sanji flirt so fucking hard no one on the ship can believe it. Despite the fact they've been dating for a while, Sanji probably never mentioned he had a boyfriend(or parents) to the crew and just went along with whatever they thought. When they meet Rayleigh he and Shakky look Sanji over with a very high interest because he looks like that one brat's wife. Sanji is like 'yeah, Marco took me and mom to the fleet and we joined and they're married and he's the man I consider my father' which makes Rayleigh blink because why the fuck is he in the Straw Hat crew? He's a White Beard brat? Sanji just shrugs and is like 'idk seemed fun, bonding with my bf's little bro' which makes the Strawhats fucking lose it. They are sent to another plain of existence except Luffy who is like 'cool, we're brothers'.

Then like Marineford happens and Luffy is there, Sanji isn't, Ace is about to be fucking merced and then Sora and Marco are there like 'can't kill the son in law fuckers' and like yeah, White Beard dies but Ace doesn't. That wound is a mortal wound and so is Luffy's but Marco is a bird brained doctor and he has absolutely 'oo shiny''d his son's bf so like he's in the family in the family, ya know? It's fine if not and we can go deeper in that later need be.

Also could you imagine Marco coming up as an Emperor in this? Like the battle against Black Beard is more a draw than anything else so they are both brought to the status of Emperor and damn those bounties are fucking HIGH. Of course parental sin bullshit means Sanji and Ace's bounties also fucking go astronomical, more so than before. Like holy shit the straw hat crew is looking at Ace and Sanji post ts and how fucking gross they are but they are still two of the most wanted men in the new generation and should be feared.

Would you guys believe I got a normal amount of sleep?

#black leg sanji #portgas d ace #vinsmoke sanji #marco one piece #phoenix marco #marco phoenix #marco the phoenix #vinsmoke sora #shirohige!sanji #shirohige!sora #sora x marco #acesan #sanace #ace x sanji #sanji x ace #fire fist ace #answers

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jamiesfootball · 7 months ago

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Ted taking Beard to his friend who is a dentist? It's not just helping Beard not be in pain. It's helping him get his life back.

I was (for almost a decade) missing a tooth. I did realise how much it held my life back until I came into enough money to have it replaced.

(I actually had an idea in one of my fics that the first thing Beard does after getting like Money is teeth stuff because I have a friend who is in long term recovery that did that. He got implants to replace his partial)

This, yes. I’ve known a lot of people over the years (including myself) who’ve just dealt with long term tooth pain because the amount of money it would take to fix whatever problems they had.

With Beard, who I’ve always headcanoned as coming from a low income background, I can definitely see a combination of factors leading to him putting off doing anything for a long time.

Then with Beard staying with Ted when he got out of prison-

“Can’t help but notice that after dinner your plate’s looking a little closer to half full than half empty. Now I’m certainly no Emeril, but then I also don’t remember you being a real picky eater back in college either. It’s not an allergy is it?”

“No. It’s fine. Just a little tooth sensitivity. Got worse in prison.”

“Uh-huh. And how long you had that?”

“About twenty years.”

Ted answers with his eyebrows. Beard hardly notices it; he told Michelle he’d do the dishes, and that supersedes whatever personal lore of his has caught Ted’s interest this time. He doesn’t see how Ted’s eyes soften, the way he sighs with his shoulders, the gears rattling into territory where good men should fear to tread, less they get their boots dirty on the low-level grime Beard’s been trailing behind him his whole life like Linus with his blanket.

He doesn’t know yet that Ted’s never turned over a stone without wanting to shine it up and take it home.

Standing in Ted’s house, under the weight of Ted’s generosity, with one singular task to focus on, Beard doesn’t even wonder to himself what Teddy might be up to, digging a leather phone book out of the junk drawer and slinking off with the receiver of the cordless phone in hand.

Rookie mistake.

#ted lasso #coach beard #cw dentist #ask box is always open

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il3x · 1 year ago

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Why Waltz in E-Major, Op. 15 “Moon Waltz” by Cojum Dip is THE definitive Chris "Cryptid" Elman song (a rant) (as requested)

i.e. the song that first made me make a chris playlist; there are other equally fitting songs I found later, but this one is iconic. rant for @thesternest. long post warning

Weird. He's a weird little guy. Creacher. Any absurd song that sounds kinda staticky like you're being microwaved is an instant candidate.

the amv I have in my head

The image we see of you has been Just a little late There is no atmosphere To wear down any sharpness It's not how long you wait

"The image we see of you has been / Just a little late": Chris in front of the screen, with Lab Rat's recorded instructions playing. He's all about having his identity displaced in time - he was Lab Rat, Lab Rat thought he still would be the same person (or would become him again), but as Dr. Yamada observes, there's a disconnect.

"It's not how long you wait": I have a vivid shot in my head of him facing away from the camera, starting as his apocalypse-self, growing and flickering between different creature forms. He didn't find synergy or integration between his identities and goals, even with two years of time. Alternatively, this shot could be flickering between different moon phases, or different celestial bodies - I wanted this AMV to represent pre-download-apocalypse-clone, 'Chris' in canon, and Lab Rat with celestial bodies, moon and sun definitely in there, I just need a third.

Synodic season To come out of hiding Why'd it take so long? Inching out of orbit dividing Where did I go wrong?

"Synodic season" - conjunction, alignment of celestial bodies. The plan to take over an Earth brings his different sets of priorities/identity facets in harmony, with a singular goal. Imagery? Solar eclipse!!

"Why'd it take so long?" again, yeah, he's just frustrated with how long it's taking to get a self he wants to live as. fuckin mood. this is canon iirc with his transformations, "every mutation is a step away from being this" or whatever he says to Amy - you betcha he was annoyed that he had to lie low and pretend to be a regular kid instead of going full mad scientist Glorious Evolution monster transform.

"Where did I go wrong?" This is where I slip into headcanon/AU, because I only read part way through Ward. I think that even taking over a planet was not fulfilling for him; either in terms of satisfying his Imperatives, or on a more personal level. The only support I have is the time I skipped forwards to a chapter where Breakthrough meets up with a delegate from Shin, trying to find out more about chris' deal, and his behaviour in that chapter strikes me as very defensive. But yeah; he's having his "oh, damn, I fucked up" moment. His "And in that moment, he experienced the greatest triumph of his life. And he was terrified.", to quote my other most rancid and horrible problematic fave.

Visuals-wise... well, an eclipse is not true harmony of two celestial bodies. It's one eclipsing the other.

A wise woman said I'm alive Nobody's ever told her she's wrong A paella of space-talking jive I'm as alive as her beard is long

the ultimate disconnected from life and humanity dude. you betcha he doesn't identify with Living in a conventional sense - and furthermore feels like he's trapped in a facade of life and humanity, which no one will own up to and admit ("nobody's ever told her she's wrong"). The "wise woman" here could work as Yamada or Victoria, and you betcha he'd go [pissy 13 year old voice] bullshit but in a derisive trying-to-be-fancy way like this if either of them sat him down and was like. You're alive, you're a human. Hell, that basically IS what Yamada says to him in his interlude - you're a kid, you need a place to live and human companionship - and he Does (TM) react kinda like that.

I also feel like the surreally upbeat depictions of injury, damage and death fit him. "Twirling moon dust abound / Lung destruction is starting"; yeah, he would enthusiastically describe the timeline of your medical degradation as you Died in the Space Death Pit.

#chris elman #banger tunes for my blorbos #unedited! you're getting this raw

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fagsystem · 2 years ago

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I saw this post and I wanted to speak about the topics it touches upon and provide some advice for anyone questioning any sort of LGBTQ+ identity.

You are not your identity because your experiences are that identity, you are your identity because that identity describes your experiences.

There is this idea that there is some true identity in you deep down, one right box you can neatly shove yourself into. That is not the case in the slightest.

Yes, some people find a label that fits them perfectly. It is like suddenly the whole world makes sense now that they know that is what they are. And it is a beautiful and wonderful thing when that happens.

But being queer is still beautiful and wonderful even when that does not happen. Being queer is not and has never been about having to adbide by boxes, and I would suggest looking into queer history via digital archives if you have not already.

It is alright to use whatever label serves you the best. It is alright to use different labels in different circumstances. It is alright to use labels that you feel are right for you and helpful even if you do not fit into the boxes people except of that label. It is alright not to use labels even if you seemingly fit it perfectly for whatever reason you do not wish to use it.

The FTM subreddit is a good example of this. It's description is, 'Support-based discussion focused on trans men, trans mascs, and other people who are assigned female at birth who are trans.' While the label FTM has a technically strict defintion, many people who do not meet that defintion benefit from the label. Even those who do not identify with it personally to describe their experiences are able to find use in it to find community of people with similar experiences. And I tell many stories about this.

I do hesitate to bring up the following anecdote due to the TERF rhetoric rather prominent in the community at the moment. So I will preface this by requesting people understand that the rather intense discourse surrounding 'men in lesbian spaces' is TERF shit and does not stop being TERF shit when you make it gender affirming. I am not here to debate TERF shit. If what you have to add the conversation even remotely resembles 'men in lesbian spaces bad' I request you make a seperate post, link this one as I did above, and tag me. However, I reserve right to block you and ask you to edit the post so it is screenshots without my username present if I want to. Thank you.

I know of a lesbian with an extremely muscular, bearded, 6' tall AMAB partner. This person is not cis, but does use he and masculine terms like man along side neutral terms and it/blood pronouns. He would not fit the orientations of many lesbians.

When he and my friend got together, he was going by he/she/blood pronouns. Which would make him fit more lesbian's orientations, I suppose, but when he changed his pronouns wbsolutely nothing changed at all really. My friend still loves him like a butch and is still a lesbian. Her experiences are lesbian experiences because that is what she feels fits it best.

(And, for the record, her partner is not suddenly a butch just because my lesbian friend loves him like one. She understands that and just because she feels the best description for her feelings is 'loving him like a butch' doesn't mean she actually views him as one.)

A lot of people end up really struggling with their identities and exploring who they are because the moment they discover anything at all outside of the box of the label that fits best they are kicked out of it.

Especially due to the prominence of TERF rhetoric in the LGBTQ+ community, it is especially bad for lesbians. There is a reason there is such an oversaturation of 'men in lesbian spaces' but not 'women in gay male spaces' and that's because of gender essentialism and 'men bad evil woman victim helpless'.

Like I saw a video of a lesbian mention that maybe they had experienced an attraction to a man one singular time and were questioning. The comment section was flooded with people harassing them for calling themselves a lesbian and invading lesbian spaces when they may or may not have had just experienced an attraction to a man.

You know. As though they have not been in lesbian spaces for a long time and found community in people with shared experiences. All of that is suddenly them being lesbophobic for daring to invade lesbian spaces as someone who literally is a lesbian.

Like that really fucking sucks to be turned on like that for daring to even begin to question your orientation.

If you are a lesbian who is worried that maybe they experience attraction to men or literally anyone worried that they are wrong about their identity, I really hope you are able to stop worried about what the 'true correct 100% perfect box that your identity totally will fit into' is and instead focus on 'does this label describe me? how does it help me?'

If you are someone who would never be with a man ever but occasionally experiences attraction, that experience remains the same whether you believe that bisexual or lesbian or queer or whatever fits it. Hell, if you feel like straight fits best I don't get it but I am happy for you doing what's best for you.

If you are someone who does not care about gender or what pronouns you are called, that experience does not change if you identify as cis or trans or nonbinary or agender.

Just.

Relax.

And be nice to each other.

#lgbtq #lgbt #lgbtq+#questioning #questioning help #long post #rant #ramble

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casspurrjoybell-19 · 6 months ago

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Does it Matter? - Chapter 51 - Part 1

*Warning: Adult Content*

"Get in," the bearded man said once they'd climbed off the horses, giving Dara a shove in the direction of the cage.

"Your friend, too. Used to keep dogs in that thing but the wolves got 'em. I'm sure it'll hold the two of you just as well."

"I'm sorry," Dara murmured to Bug in Eulan, taking advantage of an excuse to speak under the guise of translation.

"Me too," Bug murmured back.

He couldn't imagine why Dara thought this was his fault.

Maybe he'd intended it in the same sense as telling someone you're sorry when a loved one of theirs dies.

Not a matter of fault.

They crawled into the cage and the bearded man slammed the door shut before locking a padlock in place on the door.

Bug hugged the coat around himself.

It was getting cold but the coat kept him warm enough for now.

"Are you cold?" he whispered to Dara once the men were far away enough.

Dara shook his head.

"Only a little. My body won't let me get too cold."

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. Even if we escape, we'll be on foot with no supplies. And you..."

"Promise me that if we get the chance to escape, we'll take it. I would rather die free than become a slave again."

Dara hesitated.

"Okay. I promise."

As Dara started examining the cage they were in, Bug watched the men talk and laugh.

They didn't seem like monsters when they interacted with one another.

They just seemed like people.

Lord Nolan had never really cared much for anyone but himself and Fraccus...

Well, it was hard to know what trauma had brought him to where he had ended up but he had hardly seemed like a person anymore.

In a way, it was harder for Bug to comprehend how men like these could stomach what they were doing.

How someone capable of connecting with others could simply decide some people were not people.

It happened all the time, of course.

Bug knew that.

Slavery was an integral part of their society and it couldn't be that everyone was just evil.

No, they were just humans who were fully capable of feeling love and empathy who had chosen to direct none of it at certain people because it benefited them not to.

Feeling sad about that would get him nowhere, though.

It was time to see what the future had on offer.

Bug closed his eyes and took in the array of tiny lights that represented all the possible futures that lay ahead of him.

He had half expected every one of them to dead end in the near future but of course no matter how dire things seemed, that was never the case.

Even so... there were a great deal more opportunities for death in his near future than he was used to seeing.

Perhaps that mattered very little, though.

Perhaps the vastness of possibilities was only an illusion.

He had been shown a vision of that night with Brayan since he was a child.

He hadn't chanced into that singular outcome out of all the possibilities.

He didn't know if the thing guiding him could hear his thoughts, whether it would listen even if it could but he sent up a silent plea to please, please get them both out of this alive without more long years of suffering to pay for it.

Bug picked a random moment a few hours into the future, dove in and endured just a couple of seconds of what his mind was pummeled with before pulling back and opening his eyes.

"I made a mistake."

Dara turned from where he'd been examining the back of the cage.

"A mistake?"

"Looking into the future is largely useless. There are countless possibilities and no way to know what will come to pass, so often I don't even bother looking but there is one thing I can predict every single time, without fail. The weather."

"The weather?"

"It's early in the year for it. It didn't even cross my mind. The rains are coming. Tonight."

Dara sat back.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. Even if we hadn't been captured, we would have been in a lot of trouble. I should have checked."

Dara shook his head.

"I'm not upset. Maybe it's better that we're here. Maybe they'll let us in the tents so that you don't freeze."

"It's not better. I told you. I'd rather take our chances as free men."

Dara hesitated.

"Then... this might be an opportunity for it. When the rains come, they're sudden, heavy. They mask sound, block vision. Under the cover of heavy rain, we wouldn't have to get far at all before it would become almost impossible to track us down but... the cold."

The cold, which would easily take Bug's life but which Dara's body wouldn't let touch him too deeply.

"This is what I want. Do you think we can get out of the cage?"

Dara nodded.

"This cage was never intended to hold people and the joins at the back are rusted. I think a few solid kicks should knock it out. Can you find out exactly when the rain starts?"

"Of course," Bug said.

"It will take me a little while to find the right moment, but once I do, there's no doubt. The weather is reliable."

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ragnarlothcat · 2 years ago

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hello! i hope your day is going well! i'm absolutely in LOVE with your sugar baby au - do you have any hcs/ideas/scraps about it?

Thank you 🥰 I do have some of those! I've got an extremely rough outline for the fic now, which is progress since before it was just vibes. I worry it reads a little similarly to my fic à la carte but in space, but I'll interpret it as me having found my niche instead of me only having one singular idea that I will shoehorn into new settings until eventually I die. Anyway it's 12 chapters now because it's important to me that I start more long projects I will never finish.

This Anakin was trained by Mace Windu so he's a slightly different flavour of Anakin. He agrees to the casual, sugar baby relationship because it's very specifically not a romantic relationship so it's probably fine and Anakin won't get attached (ha). But he does resist Obi-Wan buying him pretty things because as a Jedi he shouldn't really have stuff. Obi-Wan cleverly gets around this by spoiling him with experiences (and also stuff, once he finds Anakin's weaknesses).

This bit is from after they've slept together for the first time and Anakin is being very cool and casual about it.

Sugar baby au

“How was the mission?"

Anakin tugs on the collar of his robes self-consciously, very aware of the bitemark on his collarbone. “It was fine. The assassin never even showed.”

“Hmm.” Aayla narrows her eyes. “And the senator?”

“Still alive, last I checked.” Last Anakin checked Obi-Wan had been lounging on his plush chaise lounge draped in pale silk, his chest bare aside from the marks Anakin left on the swell of his pecs.

If Anakin hadn’t come three times already, he’d have fallen to his knees right there.

“Hmm,” Aayla says again. “It looks like you checked pretty thoroughly. Based on the beard burn, I mean.”

Anakin winces and slaps a hand to his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We kept things strictly professional.” Which is true, in a sense, because Anakin did protect Obi-Wan from danger as his job demands. It would have been very difficult for someone to assassinate the senator, after all, when he'd spent the entire night between a Jedi knight’s legs.

Aayla laughs as Anakin furtively checks his reflection in a polished vase. “You really are all grown up now,” she says with a sigh. “Have you now slept with 100% of the senators you’ve been assigned to protect?”

Anakin abandons his vase with a scowl. “I told you about Padmé in confidence.”

“I thought you avoided senate duty because you found it boring. Little did I know it’s because you’re like spice to these politicians. They just can’t keep away.”

Anakin’s comm buzzes and he blanches at the ID. “Senate duty is boring,” he bites back.

“Or is it that your type is politicians? You’re all about the fancy clothes, impassioned speeches.” Aayla clears her throat. “Silver tongues…”

Anakin never asks Mace for favors, but suddenly he feels like begging him for a very long assignment in the outer rim. His comm buzzes again. “Shut up, Aayla,” Anakin hisses. “It’s Kenobi.”

Aayla raises her eyebrows. “He has your personal comm number? Didn’t you just meet him yesterday?”

“Shut up—this is Skywalker.”

“Anakin,” comes Obi-Wan’s voice, as sticky sweet and intoxicating as it was in bed. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Anakin glares at Aayla, who smiles back, all innocence and dimples. “Nothing important. Is everything okay, Senator? Has there been another threat?”

It’s entirely possible. If someone wants Obi-Wan dead, they’d hardly stop after just one failed attempt. Truthfully Anakin thinks the man needs to increase his security permanently if he’s not going to stop being controversial in the senate. But Anakin’s assignment had been for a single gala, not to hang around Obi-Wan indefinitely and keep him locked up in his apartments.

(Unfortunately.)

“Only a threat to my sense of honor. Do you know Delia Zaro?”

“The holostar?” Anakin blinks down at his comm. “I don't know much about her. Senator, what does this have to do with the threats?”

“That’s the one,” Obi-Wan says, completely ignoring Anakin’s question. “A friend of mine owns a restaurant. It’s very exclusive and the food is exquisite.”

It’s sounding less and less likely that this anecdote has anything to do with the assassination attempts. “Sounds nice. Most of what I eat comes vacuum sealed.”

“Ms. Zaro dined there the other night. Now my friend has started advertising that he’s played host to ‘the most beautiful person on Coruscant’. Can you believe that?”

No, because Anakin wasn’t aware that restaurants advertised at all, let alone that they did so by hawking attractive celebrities. What's the point? It's not like you can eat the other patrons.

But Aayla is looking far too amused for someone who is currently eavesdropping, so Anakin turns away from her and aims for his most serious, no-nonsense Jedi voice. “Senator, I’m not sure I understand.”

“I just can’t tolerate falsehoods. As a politician, I am bound by the truth.” And even Anakin can hear the ironic smile in Obi-Wan’s voice at that. “I’m left with no choice. We must take action.”

Aayla snickers and Anakin pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think I can arrest your friend for having different taste in holostars.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. “Of course not. My plan is much simpler and much less illegal. I just need to turn a lie into a reality.”

“How—”

“By ensuring the most beautiful person on Coruscant actually eats there as soon as possible. Say, eight o clock? My treat.”

Anakin frowns down at the comm for a moment. It’s fine if Obi-Wan wants to go to dinner with some other random holostar of his choosing. Well, it’s not fine because someone is actively trying to kill him, but it’s not something he can forbid. But why is he calling Anakin and making it sound like—

Oh.

Humiliatingly he feels his face flame and his heart flutter in his chest. How can this man fluster him so easily? Anakin has been tortured more times than he can count, but this smooth-voiced senator has him squirming like a youngling.

Anakin pointedly ignores Aayla’s quiet laughter. “Senator”—he clears his throat around the embarrassing roughness— “I’m flattered, but I have a lot of work to catch up on.” He does. He has dozens of reports to finish, and Mace will have him murdered if they're late again, especially if he explains that they’re late because Anakin is weak to pretty words and a free dinner with a handsome man.

“Please, darling—”

‘Darling?’ Aayla mouths.

“—I want to thank you for taking such good care of me last night.”

Aayla snorts and Anakin yanks her lekku with the Force.

“There’s no need for that,” Anakin says. Obi-Wan thanked him plenty last night. And again this morning in the shower. “It’s just part of the job.” Keeping him alive, that is. Learning the taste of his skin and melody of his cries was more…extracurricular.

No, Anakin cannot be alone with this man again. He doesn’t have the willpower to resist him.

“I already made the reservation. I promise the food is absolutely worth the trip. Now, it is a fine dining establishment so there’s a dress code.”

Perfect, a way out without offending him. Anakin doesn’t even own a dress. “I still only have my robes.”

“Which is why a courier is on their way now. The outfit I picked out is mostly black, so I do hope you like it.” Obi-Wan pauses and makes a small coughing noise. “I for one can’t wait to see you in it.”

Obi-Wan has barely known him for a full day and he already knows Anakin is most comfortable in black. Obi-Wan is so sweet and charming, and he is getting so fucked tonight.

(Mace is going to have Anakin's head. Oh well, a problem for the Anakin of tomorrow.)

“You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Anakin croaks out.

“I don’t think of it as trouble,” Obi-Wan says, his voice leaving no room for argument. “It’s what you deserve. I’ll let you go for now, Anakin. I’ll see you at eight.”

He hangs up, and Anakin meets Aayla’s eyes, worrying his lip between his teeth.

Aayla rests her hand on Anakin’s bicep. “Oh yes,” she says, her face suspiciously neutral. “You two are definitely keeping things nice and professional.”

#asks #anon #sugar baby au #obikin #i hope this is fun!#i'm battling some brain fog so i haven't been writing much #but i do like these versions of them #anakin is doing his best to be a good jedi #also aayla and anakin friendship forever

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jackoshadows · 3 years ago

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One of the consistent themes of ASoIaF is that rulers are flawed and human and make mistakes. GRRM has talked about this in interviews, the between a rock and hard place decisions characters have to make, and whether a ruler should make a pragmatic choice or a morally right one. He has compared his rulers to Tolkien’s Aragorn and how in LOTR we don’t get to see what ‘And he ruled wisely’ actually means.

GRRM’s rulers/leaders in Westeros also often times put their own selfish desires above the greater good or allow their emotions to get the better of them, including protagonists like Robb Stark and Jon Snow. His solution to this seems to be a ruler of the 7 kingdoms who is not exactly human - Bran Stark.

“Every judgment teeters on the brink of error,” Leto explained. “To claim absolute knowledge is to become monstrous. Knowledge is an unending adventure at the edge of uncertainty.” - Children of Dune

The more I think on this, the more I see similarities between Bran Stark and 9 year old Leto II Atreides of Children of Dune. We have been told that Bran on the Iron Throne is GRRM’s ending, however the way the show got there was absolutely atrocious because D&D have no understanding of that story, are not interested in telling it and don’t like the fantasy aspects of the series.

Sorry for referencing the terrible dialogue from the show, but notice how Bran is referred to as ‘Memory’.

Bran: He’ll come for me. He’s tried before. Many times, with many Three-Eyed Ravens. Sam: Why? What does he want? Bran: An endless night. He wants to erase this world, and I am its memory. Sam: That’s what death is, isn’t it? Forgetting … being forgotten. If we forget where we’ve been and what we’ve done we’re not men anymore. Just animals. Your memories don’t come from books; your stories aren’t just stories. If I wanted to erase the world of men, I’d start with you. ‘

- GOT, Season 8, episode 2

-----------

“The boy who fell from a high tower and lived. He knew he’s never walk again, so he learned to fly. He crossed beyond the wall, a crippled boy, and became the Three-Eyed Raven,” Tyrion continued. “He is our memory, the keeper of all our stories: the wars, weddings, births, massacres, famines, our triumphs, our defeats, our past. Who better to lead us into the future?”

- GOT, Season 8, Episode 6

Now of course on the show all this makes no sense because they never really explained what the 3ER was. Sam and Tyrion’s explanation are absolutely nonsensical. So if Bran is killed everyone becomes amnesiacs and animals? How does killing Bran remove everyone’s memory? Why should Bran be king of Westeros just because he’s ‘memory’?

This feels like D&D using the rough bare bones concept GRRM told them and just shoving it in there because they either don’t understand it or don’t care enough to spend time and episodes on Bran as a central character.

However, Bran being ‘memory’ brings to mind Leto II Atreides. Leto is pre-born and hence is prescient. In Children of Dune, he is 9-10 years old.

At various points, 9 year old Leto talks about how “the entire universe with all its Time is within me”. Leto tells Stilgar that “ I have no first person singular, Stil. I am a multiple person with memories of traditions more ancient than you could imagine”

‘Memories of traditions more ancient that you could imagine’ brings to mind, Bran’s weirwood paste stimulated dreams

Then, as he watched, a bearded man forced a captive down onto his knees before the heart tree. A white-haired woman stepped toward them through a drift of dark red leaved, a bronze sickle in her hand.

“No,” said Bran, “no, don’t,” but they could not hear him, no more than his father had. The woman grabbed the captive by the hair, hooked the sickle around his throat, and slashed. And through the mist of centuries the broken boy could only watch as the man’s feet drummed against the earth…but as his life flowed out of him in a red tide, Brandon Stark could taste the blood. - Bran, ADwD

The pre-born have access to genetic memory that is awakened by narcotics like the spice melange. This is sort of similar to how Bran is given a paste to consume at the end of ADwD, with Bloodraven telling him that the paste will awaken his gifts and wed him to the trees.

"Once you have mastered your gifts, you may look where you will and see what the trees have seen, be it yesterday or last year or a thousand ages past." - Bran, ADwD

In ASoIaF I see the Weirwoods of Westeros as being the equivalent of Dune��s Sand worms of Arrakis. While the Sandworms provide the spice necessary for prescient and genetic memories, the Weirwoods see everything that’s happening over time.

A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful. They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle‘s granite walls rise around them. It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea. - Catelyn, AGoT

“I have an uncle Brynden,” Bran said. “He’s my mother’s uncle, really. Brynden Blackfish, he’s called.” “Your uncle may have been named for me. Some are, still. Not so many as before. Men forget. Only the trees remember.” - Bran, ADwD

"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies," said Jojen. "The man who never reads lives only one. The singers of the forest had no books. No ink, no parchment, no written language. Instead they had the trees, and the weirwoods above all. When they died, they went into the wood, into leaf and limb and root, and the trees remembered. All their songs and spells, their histories and prayers, everything they knew about this world. The singers believe that they are the old gods. When singers die they become part of that godhood - Bran, ADwD

Leaf touched his hand. "The trees will teach you. The trees remember." - Bran, ADwD

“I have my own ghosts, Bran. A brother that I loved, a brother that I hated, a woman I desired. Through the trees, I see them still, but no word of mine has ever reached them. The past remains the past.” - Bran, ADwD

I have watched you for a long time, watched you with a thousand eyes and one. I saw your birth, and that of your lord father before you. I saw your first step, heard your first word, was part of your first dream. I was watching when you fell. And now you are come to me at last, Brandon Stark, though the hour is late.” - Bran, ADWD

This is an interesting quote when we think of wargs, skinchangers and greenseers:

It was the Singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven… but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin.”- Bran, ADWD

to connect to Leto II becoming a symbiote with the sandworm.

The knowledge from those uncounted lifetimes which blended themselves within him provided the certainty through which he chose the precise adjustments, staving off the death from an overdose which would engulf him if he relaxed his watchfulness for only a heartbeat. And at the same time he blended himself with the sandtrout, feeding on it, feeding it, learning it ... He located another, placed it over the first one ... Their cilia locked and they became a single membrane which enclosed him to the elbow ... This was no longer sandtrout; it was tougher, stronger. And it would grow stronger and stronger ... With a terrible singleness of concentration he achieved the union of his new skin with his body, preventing rejection ... They were all over his body now. He could feel the pulse of his blood against the living membrane ... My skin is not my own. - Leto II, Children of Dune

And just like Leto II slowly understands what needs to be done and goes on a quest to Jacurutu , Bran is slowly drawn towards the weirwoods.

Bran had always liked the godswood, even before, but of late he found himself drawn to it more and more. Even the heart tree no longer scared him the way it used to. The deep red eyes carved into the pale trunk still watched him, yet somehow he took comfort from that now. The gods were looking over him, he told himself; the old gods, gods of the Starks and the First Men and the children of the forest, his father’s gods. He felt safe in their sight, and the deep silence of the trees helped him think. Bran had been thinking a lot since his fall; thinking, and dreaming, and talking with the gods.- Bran, ACOK

and goes on a quest beyond the wall. Of note is that characters think that Leto II is dead when he goes off into the desert and characters think that Bran is dead when he goes off beyond the wall into the snow.

There’s also Bran’s parallels to the mythological Fisher King and being connected to the land.

So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I'm not dead either. -Bran, ACoK

I have already talked about Bran’s parallels to Rand al’Thor traveling through the glass columns of Rhuidean to see and understand the past.

There is also Leto II Atreides’ relationship with is twin sister Ghanima. Aspects of this in the story that could be transferred to Jon and Arya in ASoIaF. Or even Bran and Arya. Bran does compare Meera to Arya. Ned does say that Arya will marry a king.

Leto and Ghanima are extremely close and look very similar (Jon/Arya). They end up marrying for dynastic reasons (Also of note here that the Bene Gesserit considers mating the twins for breeding purposes - similar to the Valyrians marrying amongst themselves to control their dragons).

“This is the way it will always be with us. We'll stand thus when we are married. Back to back, each looking outward from the other to protect the one thing which we have always been” - Children of Dune

Leto and Ghanima is a sexless marriage and there is no actual incest, but GRRM has no such issues. There’s lots of incestual sex and marriage in ASoIaF.

In all three series, Dune, WOT and ASoIaF, the past and memories of yore prove to be necessary to solve a problem in the current age. In Dune with Leto and genetic memory, in WOT with Rand and prophecies/glass columns and in ASoIaF with Bran and the Weirwood trees.

Both Leto and Bran are prescient - they can see past and future.

"My brother has the greensight. He dreams things that haven't happened, but sometimes they do." - Bran, ACoK

There are all these theories of Time traveling Bran. We know he has influenced the past already with Hodor. There are theories about everything in ASoIaF being influenced and controlled by Bran. That he is talking to Arya, Jon, Theon through the Weirwoods, that he set up his own fall from the future etc. But to what end? Why would Bran do all this?

Time traveling is a complex subject with concepts like the temporal paradoxes and causal loops. Essentially, Bran going back and changing events would lock humanity onto a single path he himself creates - the causal loop.

For instance while Paul Atreides, the Muad' Dib, uses prescience several times to get to preferred scenarios, his son realizes that this would bind humanity to a single chosen path. Arrakis becomes stagnant and green and heads towards destruction. Without desert, there are no worms, there is no spice and no intergalactic space travel, leading to the eventual destruction of humanity.

Leto II sees infinite paths to choose from and decides on the Golden Path. A path where he sacrifices himself and becomes a worm hybrid and a God Emperor who is immortal, thereby saving humanity from destroying itself. Removing the ability to see the future frees humanity from prescient control.

“The future remains uncertain and so it should, for it is the canvas upon which we paint our desires. Thus always the human condition faces a beautifully empty canvas. We possess only this moment in which to dedicate ourselves continuously to the sacred presence which we share and create.” - Children of Dune

Leto II breeds critical thinkers who build a new Arrakis. He becomes a tyrant emperor against whom humanity unites and his death leads to his body becoming thousands of Sand trouts that once again populate Arrakis and produces the spice for space travel and humanity going all over the universe and surviving and preventing stagnation.

In ASoIaF, the Weirwoods seem to the Sandworm parallel. They hold vital memories of Westeros, of the land, of the people who live there, their histories.

The First Men were wary of these trees and started burning and chopping these trees leading to war with the Children of the Forest. This war ends with the Pact and the Children giving the First Men their religion of the Old Gods - the Godswood and Weirwoods with faces carved on them. We see from Bran’s vision that the Starks perform human blood sacrifices to nourish these trees.

The Children and First Men then work together to defeat the inhuman Others. More retreating of Children to forests and beyond the Wall.

The arrival of the Andals leads to more destruction of the Weirwoods. Despite the Children waging war again, they were unsuccessful this time. The worship of the Old Gods is now restricted to just the North

All this history is more or less forgotten. The inhuman Others are seen as snarks and grumpkins, the original purpose of the Wall is forgotten, the Night’s Watch is in bad condition, we have the faith of the Seven in the south, Melisandre’s Lord of Light requiring that weirwoods be burned.

Just like 9/10 year old Leto II had to consume large quantities of Spice Melange and see the future and past to identify the Golden Path and sacrifice himself for the greater good, I think Bran will consume the weirwood paste and integrate with the weirwood in some manner and sacrifice himself for the greater good.

So why does Bran end up as King of Westeros? I think that the attack of the Others will end up with another pact between humanity and the Children of the Forest necessary to save life. And Bran holding the essence of the Weirwood trees in some manner like Leto II and the Sandworm, is chosen as an immortal king keeping watch over all of Westeros.

I doubt it’s any kind of triumphant ending like the show depicted it with jokes on the small council. Rather, it will be sad and poignant. It will be this young child sacrificing himself to a life of loneliness and Godhood for the greater good.

Why must he waste his time listening to old men speak of things he only half understood? Because you’re broken, a voice reminded him. A lord on his cushioned chair might be crippled, but not a knight on his destier. Besides, it was his duty. - Bran, ACoK

“Most of him has gone into the tree … He has lived beyond his mortal span, and yet he lingers. For us, for you, for the realms of men. Only a little strength remains in his flesh. He has a thousand eyes and one, but there is much to watch. One day you will know.”- Bran, ADwD

“Earth and water, soil and stone, oaks and elms and willows, they were here before us all and will still remain when we are gone.”

“So will you,” said Meera. That made Bran sad. What if I don’t want to remain when you are gone? he almost asked.- Bran, ADwD

#Bran Stark #Leto II Atreides #Parallels #ASoIaF #Children of Dune #Dune #GRRM #Frank Herbert

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cowboymirio · 4 years ago

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They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake!

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up.

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’)

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY??

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them) flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now.

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh

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lovelylogans · 3 years ago

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honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

see other chapters, notes, and warnings here!

chapter five: obligate mutualism

obligate mutualism: a type of mutualism in which the species involved are in close proximity and interdependent with one another in a way that one cannot survive without the other.

REMY

Emile appears in Nice, squealing and jumping up and down.

“Hey!” Remy says warmly, hugging him; Emile’s joy is so infectious that Remy can feel Emile’s smile stretching across his own face. “What’s got you so happy?”

“They let him off!” Emile says exuberantly. “Rem, they let Remus off! Jay proved that they don’t have anything on him so Remus is free to go!”

“Oh my God, that’s amazing!” Remy says, then, “wait, what was Remus under arrest for?”

“Oh, murder,” Emile says, waving that off, “but Jay proved that Remus was just joking when he was threatening him, so Remus got off! Oh my goodness, he’s out! He can finish his latest book! He can stay with Roman! Yay!”

“Yay,” Remy cheers weakly, wondering what the hell kind of cluster his boyfriend has birthed.

ROMAN

Roman drops a substantial amount of money on champagne on their drive home.

Remus rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning a little bit, so Roman assumes that he’s happy about it. Or maybe he’s plotting how to ruin Roman’s possessions with champagne. One of the two.

Roman opens the door, balancing the champagne bottles in his arms, feeling a lot like he’s forgotten something. He drops his keys into the bowl on the entry table.

“Hey, Roman! Ooh, champagne—on a Tuesday? What, did you land a role with Guillermo del Toro?”

“God, I wish,” Roman says wistfully, then, oh shit I forgot to tell Sasha.

Sasha blinks a couple times before she stands up.

“Um, hey, sweetie,” she says. “Who’s your friend?”

Remus snorts loudly at the fake endearment.

“Um, Sasha,” Roman says, shutting the door behind him. “This is my twin brother, Remus.”

Sasha gawks at Remus. “I didn’t know you had a brother!”

Remus socks him in the shoulder so hard that Roman nearly drops the heavy glass champagne bottle. “You bitch, you said you’d tell her!”

“I forgot?” Roman says weakly.

“I have no idea how you put up with him,” Remus tells Sasha. “Is the convenience of a beard worth hearing him sing Disney in the shower?”

Sasha, looking a little startled that Remus knows the full truth of the deal Roman and her made, rebuts with, “

“Where have you been before this, anyway?” Sasha says.

“Oh, jail,” Remus says brightly.

“Oh, okay,” Sasha says, and, with a level of casualness that frankly stuns Roman, moves on to, “So, I’ve had a gripe with one of your books for forever.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t know you read his books,” Roman says, mystified.

“Yeah, I started back when I was doing that slasher pic a year and a half ago, you remember that?” Sasha says. “Helped me pick up on the internal life of a stalking victim. Anyways, the first book I read of yours—”

“Behind the Bushes, I’m guessing,” Remus says.

“Yeah!” Sasha says. “I super love that you subverted the expectations and the victim was the one that slaughtered the stalker, but I do think you could have carried through a threat she was considering through the book.”

“Which threat is that?” Remus says. “I write a lot of threats.”

“She should have castrated him,” Sasha says. “Duh.”

Remus looks at Sasha how an inventor might lovingly look at a device that finally works.

Roman groans, because he should have expected this outcome, and feared it.

“Oh, no,” Roman says. “You’re going to be friends.”

Sasha and Remus give him identical grins full of mischief.

LOGAN

Virgil appears sitting on the counter. Logan isn’t even fazed by the surprise of seeing him, although his heart rate does pick up a little.

Over the past few days, this is the way it’s been, between them; Logan suddenly finding himself looking over Virgil’s shoulder at his dinner when he’d meant to be looking at data charts, Virgil finding himself with handfuls of flowers in the face of the barren landscape of the Antarctic.

Even when he isn’t actively visiting, Logan still feels that pull, his mind turning to Virgil at the oddest times of day. He tastes coffee when he should be drinking tea. He finds himself idly doodling South African native flora during dinner. He thinks Virgil might like this when he tries to read a novel during his relaxation times and wonders how best to explain the minutiae of his science to another scientist.

“Hey, Logan,” Virgil says, and Logan feels that thrill in his stomach again.

“Hello, Virgil,” he says, after making a show of turning on his Bluetooth, for the benefit of the other scientists in the lab. “How have you been today?”

“Pretty okay,” Virgil says. “My mom said she was gonna see if she could find any of the other sensates down here that my grandma knew, so I might be able to hear more about her cluster.”

“Excellent!” Logan says. “Be sure to ask if they’re connected to the Archipelago?”

“You and that Neolithic Google,” Virgil says with a lopsided smile. “But, yeah. I’m being careful about it; I know not every sensate’s a great person to connect to. Ergo mom as a mediary.”

“A wise plan,” Logan says. “It does seem like a disadvantage that all that’s needed for a lifetime of connection is a singular instance of eye contact.”

“Maybe I should invest in a really good pair of blocking glasses,” Virgil teases, and he reaches over. Logan hadn’t even noticed they’d been slipping down the bridge of his nose.

Virgil gently nudges Logan’s glasses back into place, his finger resting on Logan’s nose, and Logan’s mouth goes abruptly dry.

This might be the first time one of us has touched the other.

Logan tries to swallow, coughs a little bit, and says, “It could potentially be a wise investment, yes. I’d—um. I’d have to do more research into what exactly would suffice to block eye contact.”

“Yeah,” Virgil rasps, and he clears his throat, too. “Yeah, that’s probably, uh. That’s probably a good thing to ask Emile about.”

“Yeah,” Logan says, and he fruitlessly tries to refocus his attention on his research. He’s much too aware of Virgil’s eyes on him.

JANUS

Janus turns the phone over and over in his hands.

One last job, two more jobs, three more jobs…

He remembers getting arrested for the first time. He remembers the lawyer who got Janus out of it, pro bono, and managed to keep it off his record by the skin of his teeth.

He thinks about representing Remus in the courtroom; he thinks about the state of his accounts; he thinks about how the threat of jail that Remus would have faced was what spooked him into pursuing a law degree in the first place.

He thinks about Remus and Roman, side-by-side in the courtroom; he thinks about Roman declaring that he doesn’t care if Remus killed him or not.

Roman is an idiot. An idealistic, loyal, altruistic idiot.

Janus is many things. He is not an idiot.

Key, scowling, sits across from him at the restaurant. Sriracha aioli, fried cod. Janus has been here a thousand times before.

He proffers the little box; Key takes it.

“This is my last job,” Janus says.

Key snorts. “I’ve heard that before.”

Janus hands him the burner phone, too.

“Oh shit,” Key says. “For real?”

“For real,” Janus reaffirms.

“Shit,” Key mutters, sitting back against the booth. They stay quiet. A waitress drops off their meal. They stay quiet for a bit longer.

“Don’t suppose I can lure you back with money,” Key tries to joke.

“No,” Janus says.

Key heaves a sigh. “All right. Well.”

He moves for his wallet, and Janus shakes his head.

“I’ve got lunch,” he says. “I can appreciate that I’m leaving you in the lurch for a computer guy.”

Key snorts and shakes his head disbelievingly. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Janus chews the inside of his lip. “If you ever need a lawyer…”

“Yeah,” Key says. He stands. “Yeah.”

Key leaves. Janus stays.

He’s been here a thousand times before. And yet.

PATTON

There’s a hint of spice in his mouth, and Patton rolls over in his bed to see Janus.

“I keep showing up when I should be sleeping, I think,” Patton muses, before he reaches out and takes one of the chips that Janus is neglecting.

Janus snorts. “Roman was stealing those the last time I was here. Perhaps you all keep showing up to eat my food.”

Patton smiles, dipping the chip in the sauce. “Maybe,” he says.

Janus exhales loudly, before he says, “I have a brother too.”

“Oh?” Patton asks, intrigued, and for a moment they’re in Patton’s bed, Patton lying down with his head propped up on his arm, Janus sitting uncomfortably at the corner.

“Unlike Remus, mine did it. Does it,” Janus amends.

Patton frowns. “That’s tough.”

“I did too, until,” Janus checks his watch. “Three minutes ago.”

Patton’s eyebrows lift in surprise, but that’s the only sign he shows.

“It’s the reason I became a lawyer,” Janus says.

“Oh,” Patton says because that—that clicks. He doesn’t know Janus very well—he will, surely, but he doesn’t yet—but taking on the good-quality job of lawyer for self-protective reasons makes a lot of sense. Janus kind of seems like the type of person to not really want to rely on other people.

“So, I don’t,” Janus says, and he sighs again. “I’ve been chasing down just one more job for years and years, and now…”

“Now, you’re done, and you don’t really know what to do with yourself?” Patton asks sympathetically.

Janus nods and he drinks some of his Ribena. The fizz of blackcurrant condensation pops in Patton’s mouth.

“Can I offer some advice?” Patton says. “You can do whatever you want with it.”

Janus scoffs a little, but he gestures for Patton to go ahead.

Patton takes another chip. “There are a lot of other people who need a lawyer’s help to stay out of jail. Not just sets of brothers.”

He dips the chip, takes a bite, and is back in bed right as a thoughtful look dawns on Janus’s face.

REMUS

Roman’s fake girlfriend is delightful.

They spend almost the entirety of dinner talking about their favorite horror movies—Sasha is quite the aspiring scream queen in her career, so it makes sense that she’s studied the greats—to a point where Roman puts his hands over his ears and went “I can’t hear you, lalalalalalaLALALALALALALA—”

Truly excellent. Especially when Roman had screeched at the top of his lungs when Sasha had gone into an in-depth side tangent about the verity of the special effects of slitting throats in movies.

And now—

“Ooh, that was good!” Remus says eagerly, pointing at the Sasha in the little screen as she gets stabbed.

“Right?!” Sasha says, and they ooh! in unison as the movie gets increasingly bloodier.

“I hate you both,” Roman grouches from where he’s slouched between them, one hand covering his eyes.

Sasha ruffles his hair. “Go ahead and break up with me, then, I’m sure the press will get us both booked like crazy.”

Roman grumbles to himself, and Remus grins at Sasha over Roman’s head.

“If any of my shit gets adapted into movies, I’m absolutely gonna make sure you get cast into a leading role.”

Sasha grins back. “You’re the best fake brother-in-law I could ask for.”

⁂

Sasha is flopped out on the couch, asleep, as the credits of the movie roll in the background.

“Where is your nearest sharpie,” Remus asks, and Roman rolls his eyes, pulling Remus to his feet.

“Leave her alone, Freak-a Kahlo. I’ve got a spot set up for you to sleep.”

“But,” Remus whines, images of lewd drawings dancing in his head, but he allows Roman to pull him away anyway.

Roman has got a little cot set up for him in his room; it’s like they’re ten again, on a trip to see their abuela, except Remus can’t tackle him and wrestle him to the ground for the honor of sleeping on the bed.

Well, he could, but considering Roman posted Remus’s bail, he figures that roman could be allowed to sleep in his own bed.

All the same, it does give Remus a strange sense of deja vu of their (admittedly rare) family vacations; Roman brushes his teeth and does his extensive skincare routine in the bathroom first, then he cajoles Remus into handling his hygiene, please, they’re living together in the same room, eating soap didn’t exactly work to make Remus smell like a spring rose. To which Remus would usually rebut good, he doesn’t want to smell like a spring rose, he wants to smell like sewage, to which Roman goes ugh, how are we twins, how did two people so catastrophically different come out of the same womb, at the same time, to which Remus says it’s payback for stealing my dick in utero, to which Roman says that doesn’t even make any sense, it’s not like I have two, to which Remus says—

It’s a whole familiar argument, anyway. But Remus does at least dunk his head into Roman’s bathtub to get his hair sopping wet and swish around some mouthwash.

They’re both tucked into their blankets, and Remus is staring at the ceiling, wondering at the best ways to ruin Roman’s fancy linens. He thinks Roman’s fallen asleep until his voice pipes up.

“I’m glad you’re not rotting in jail.”

Remus ugly-snorts. “Yeah, I guess I am too.”

“Thanks to our weird psychic lawyer, anyway.”

“And your fuck-off big actor money,” Remus reminds him, rolling over to face him. The room is so dark that he can barely see the outline of Roman’s face.

“Yeah, honestly, bribing the cops was going to be my next plan if you didn’t show up,” Roman says sleepily.

Remus grins at Roman in the dark. “I’ve been a fantastic influence on you.”

“Incorrect,” Roman grumbles.

“You’ll be watching slashers with Sasha and me in no time.”

“Ugh, I hope not,” Roman says.

“They’re inspiring!”

“Yeah, to you, Mr. Big Horror Novelist.”

“You know what else is big—”

“Ew! Ew ew ew, I know I set it up, but ew. No.”

“...This—”

“Remus, I’m kicking you out, I swear to God.”

“No, you’re not,” Remus sing-songs, “You were gonna bribe the cops, I’m holding this over your head forever.”

“I didn’t actually bribe the cops.”

“Yeah, but you were gonna,” Remus says. “Funnily enough, that seemed like the biggest case the cops had against me, too. That I was gonna.”

“I know you’re a horror writer, but I hope you don’t write about Miguel,” Roman says. “Might look a bit too If I Did It to the public.”

“Course not,” Remus says, his eyes slipping shut.

“Good.”

“I’m going to be writing a book about murdering the cops.”

“Oh, much better,” Roman sighs.

VIRGIL

Virgil spits out his toothpaste into the sink and looks up into the mirror to see Logan in his reflection, his glasses off, a toothbrush in hand.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Virgil quips.

The Logan in his reflection smiles at him awkwardly around his toothbrush, blushes, then redirects his attention to finishing off brushing his teeth as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Virgil uses that time to wash his face; Logan follows not long after. Virgil gets a whiff of the facewash Logan is using; it smells rather nice, something floral.

They do their respective routines in companionable quiet; Logan, waking up for the day, and Virgil, about to go to sleep.

“What’s on your agenda for the day?” Virgil asks, moisturizing his face.

“Research, research, and more research,” Logan says dryly, rubbing sunscreen onto his face. Their hands move in unison; moving in small circles on each cheek, up to the forehead, down the nose, the chin, down the neck. Mirror images, if not for their distinct physical differences.

“Probably should’ve guessed that,” Virgil says, rubbing the excess moisturizer into his forearms.

“Oh, you missed—”

And suddenly, Logan is not just in his mirror, but in his bathroom, reaching out a hand to smooth some more moisturizer into his skin.

“Right here,” Logan says softly, his fingers gentle on Virgil’s cheekbone. Virgil barely even breathes as Logan smooths away the smear of moisturizer.

“There,” Logan murmurs, but he’s still cradling Virgil’s face.

“Thanks,” Virgil rasps.

Logan smiles at him, just a little. “You missed right there when we first met, too.”

“Did I really?” Virgil asks. He can barely focus on anything else except the cool smoothness of Logan’s hand.

“Mhm,” Logan says. “There I was, thinking I was going crazy, and there was this African man planting a jacaranda tree into the tile, with a smear of sunscreen on his face…”

“And I had this note-taking Pole talking to me about preferring if I were a hallucination,” Virgil says. “Telling me you’d ignore me if you saw me again.”

“And then I immediately started questioning you,” Logan says, smiling. “And…”

He trails off. His hand is still on Virgil’s face. Virgil is standing so stock-still he could probably turn into a scarecrow, if only for the virtue of keeping Logan’s hand on him.

“And then I kept feeling this pull,” Logan continues quietly, looking Virgil in the eyes. He isn’t wearing his glasses; there is nothing between Virgil and those bright blue, captivating eyes. “This pull to come to you.”

“Me too,” Virgil says softly.

Logan licks his lips. He says, softly, “I do wonder why it is us, that keep feeling this pull to each other.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Logan affirms quietly. “Maybe there’s that call to those similar that we theorized about, that day. Maybe that’s what fuels this connection. Whenever I learned something new, I flashed to you. Always to you. I’m not sure if we’ll ever find out why. Perhaps there’s a level of…”

A level of what, Virgil doesn’t know, because he leans in and kisses Logan.

Logan freezes, and, with anyone else, Virgil would panic and pull back, thinking he’d been presumptuous, but he abruptly feels a thrill in his stomach and a yes in hid mind that may as well be in Logan’s voice, and Virgil’s shoulders relax at the presence of it, of that pull between them finally being eased.

Virgil wraps his arms around Logan’s waist, and Logan’s arms twine around Virgil’s neck, and they kiss, continents and oceans apart, able to taste the minty toothpaste on each other’s breath.

#my fic #my fanfic

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anthonyed · 4 years ago

Note

stevetony + no. 99 (“I fell in love with you, not them.”)? only if you want to, of course. no pressure! :)

ive said this before: i LOVED writing this. hopefully you like cats ♡

-//-

Tony says it started like this:

One afternoon, Tony barged into Pepper’s office because he conveniently forgot how to knock and caught her rolling a miniature lint roller up her suit sleeve.

She startled with her high pitched, “Oh my god, Tony!” But, Tony was too fascinated by the lint roller that he kept advancing with a singular focus.

“What is that?”

Pepper bristled, “It’s a lint roller. Why are you here? I told you I don’t want to see you for at least four hours.”

Oh. Right. She was still upset about something Tony did during the board meeting. Menial stuff, unimportant, anyway -

“I know what it is, what I meant is, why are you using that in here?”

At this point, he’s close enough to catch the very fine blonde hair stuck on the roller. “Are you trying to bury the evidence of your boyfriend, Miss Potts? Because while that is very thoughtful, I have a feeling he’d be -,”

“It’s not a boyfriend,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “With you as my boss I don’t have such time -,”

Tony on the other hand, while Pepper was talking, snagged the roller from her hand, “This is - This is not - Ah CHO!”

Pepper winced.

Tony’s jaw dropped.

“Miss Potts,” he asked, deadly calm. “I thought you read and signed all the clauses when you agreed to be my personal assistant.”

“I did, Mr Stark.” Pepper's lips thinned.

Tony dropped the roller on her table; the miniature thing completing two circles before stopping in front of her.

“Then why are there cat hair all over you?”

Despite what Tony likes to think, according to Pepper it started like this:

"Who is that?" Tony asked, low whisper, eyes like hawk fixed on the blonde man with a pink cap -

"Oh!" Pepper exclaimed, leaning sideways and waving to catch the guy's attention. "That would be my lunch."

From the cat cafe, Pepper didn't say. Instead, she hurried out of the room to meet the delivery staff before he could enter; didn't want to risk putting the man responsible for her paycheck in close contact with the one thing he's allergic to: cats' fur.

Now, Pepper doesn't know exactly what Tony thought that day, but when she reentered the room after shoving a 20 dollars bill into the guy's hand, she found Tony to be in some kind of… stupor.

She stopped where she stepped in. The door closed behind her and she asked, "Tony?"

Tony startled. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"What? No!"

"Is he single?"

"Tony -,"

"Who is he?"

Pepper paused. Then she promptly decided to play hard - because secretly she is a menace and Tony is right. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fast forward the next day; she saw Happy exiting her beloved cat cafe and entering the limo he drives to drop Tony off at work.

She didn't even hesitate; she pulled open the passenger door and slid into the empty seat.

"Fancy seeing you here," she cocked her head, smiling syrupy sweet.

Tony Stark stared wide eyed, like he'd been caught red-handed with a cookie jar.

"Ah HAH!" Pepper pointed at him.

No matter how much Tony denied: "It is not what you think it is!", don't believe him.

It was exactly what it was. In fact, that was how it started.

But Steve never talked to Pepper as much as he talked to Tony. So he obviously thought what Tony claims is right.

That the reason the wildly famous Tony Stark started frequenting Bucky's cat cafe is because he loves cats, and the moment he learned his PA had been hiding this cafe’s existence from him, he bribed her with fancy shoes to get the address.

Happy would say, bullshit.

But as it is, Happy works for Tony and Tony bribes him with a free sandwich of the day every time they visit the cafe to keep his trap shut.

(What can Happy do in the face of excellent sandwiches and delicious Caramel Macchiato? They do say it’s hard to get the caramel swirls on top of the whipped cream right, and whoever makes his drink does it perfectly each time. So at least for the love of that talent, Happy keeps his mouth shut.)

So, when Bucky taps the caramel bottle on the counter and grumbles, “Are you gonna ever ask him out?” - Steve blushes the deepest shade of pink and pries his eyes away from Tony.

“Why would I ever do that?” He busies himself with… nothing.

“Uh, I don’t know Stevie, maybe the fact that he keeps coming back here asking for this vile shit," he pauses to press the cap delicately over the large Caramel Macchiato. "Or that he’s giving you pathetic googly eyes all the time?”

Bucky glares at Steve then he directs that glare at the drink he loathes making the most with all the venom in the world.

“Wherever he’s putting this cursed thing into," he shoves it at Steve. “Here. Go call for your knight in… whatever the fuck he’s wearing.”

Steve turns to look at where Tony’s sitting; in the far left corner in the back of the cafe; in his pinstripe suit and daisy dotted tie paired with white, also daisy dotted, sneakers and a pair of orange-tinted glasses.

Alpine - Bucky's white Turkish Angora - sits pristinely on the table in front of Tony looking like she’s giving him a lecture on something - like father, like daughter - while Tony stares right back at her challengingly.

Liho, who’s Natasha’s favourite kitten (no matter how fervently Natasha denies having a favourite at all) is lounging next to Tony, tail draped lazily over his lap. Mrs Berry in all her tortoiseshell glory, is licking her butt on Tony’s left. Grey Mr Goose is sniffing Tony’s shoes and rubbing up his shin.

Behind the cash-counter, Steve sighs like the hopeless man he is. Bucky’s bemused gaze bores into him steadily.

Steve bristles, “I don’t see what’s wrong with what he’s wearing.” Because as much as Bucky’s wrong about Tony being interested in Steve in any way, he is right in assuming that Steve is.

As a matter of fact, he’s balancing precariously between sanity and lovesick insanity and with every visit from Tony, he’s tipping dangerously towards the latter. Fantastic.

“Idiot,” Bucky snorts, turning to the kitchen. "At least ask him to change the fucking order. For fucks’ sake.”

Which leaves Steve alone with Tony, since it’s 8.30pm on a Tuesday and the cafe would never see a slower business hour than that.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Steve puts the drink on a tray and checks his reflection on the microwave’s shiny surface - courtesy of Phil, their clean-freak coworker - before he moves.

It’s both scary and amazing how each time he makes his way to Tony, his heart would pitter patter and trip in its running behind his ribcage. So is the way he’d inhale sharply, lashes fluttering when they lock eyes and Tony smiles and -

Steve could just die right then and there.

The first time Steve talked to Tony; he vividly remembers it being a horrible day.

Everything had gone wrong from when the alarm went off that morning - A series of misfortunate events, and he’d just bribed Clint with a promise of dinner from his wallet in exchange for his extra shirt because an idiot on the freeway had driven through a puddle of rainwater soaking Steve dirty and wet.

Then, he’d stepped behind the cash counter for his turn at taking orders when a rich-looking asshole in a gaudy get up started yanking on Steve’s already frayed nerves. The man, with his stupid beard and flashy glasses rattled off what he’d probably thought an impossible order.

But Bucky was the barista for that hour and Steve had never come across an order Buck couldn’t whip up till this day. Right then though, he was calmly speckling cocoa dust on a mocha, letting Steve face their new customer who had evidently walked in to test their capability.

Unfortunately for all parties involved, it was just not Steve’s day.

“Do you want anything else?” He’d asked, after dotting pointedly on the cup.

Tony had leered at him, saying: “Maybe a little smile for the service,” and Steve fucking snapped.

“I’m sorry. But we don’t serve that for assholes.”

He could see Bucky freeze next to him. Tony, on the other hand, looked fully offended. “Excuse me?” he started, peering above his purple glasses, gearing up for a fight and Steve wasn’t going to back down either - putting the empty cup aside as he inhaled and squared up his shoulders.

But Bucky broke it off before it could even begin.

“Rogers, go make sure Barton is not ruining my sourdough,” he spoke up, flat toned, and he squeezed Steve’s arm warningly before offering his best smile to Tony. “I’m sorry, sir. We just ran out of cardamom so if you don’t mind excluding that from your order, I could whip it up for you just fine.”

The sudden professionalism was so jarring for both men that they each stuttered out an affirmative response and that was that.

Steve went into the kitchen, finished his shift, put an end to his awful day and he forgot all about the asshole customer. Until a week after when he returned.

“One caramel macchiato with perfected caramel swirl for Happy Hogan,” Steve places the tray in front of Tony.

Alpine hops down and leaves, bringing her gang with. Tony’s eyes trail after the number of swishing tails, as well as Steve’s.

“They really do like you,” Steve tells him, turning back to Tony with a teasing glint in his eyes; cheeks straining hard to keep a happy smile inside. "Nobody gets that much attention all at once."

Tony snorts, leaning forward in his seat, and he looks up from the rim of his glasses. "Pretty sure it's an intimidation tactic," he squints his eyes at Steve.

"Whatever for," Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and he looks down at his feet before looking up at Tony. “Are you gonna stay here longer? I was wondering if I should make yours to go or to have here.”

“Oh,” Tony glances at the tray, “So that’s why my drink is not here then,” he grins at Steve.

“You didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy noticing you.”

Steve blinks, “What’s that?”

“To have here,” Tony declares loudly, his eyes flicker as if they’re hiding something, and his next words come out softer, “If you don’t mind having me here for long, that is.”

Steve’s pretty sure he’s blushing; at least his ears must be the shade of tomatoes in the Spring. At least. “No. I - Of course not.” Could have said, stay forever please but luckily for Steve even his self-deprecating tendency has mercy on him. “Shall we?” He signals.

Tony’s eyes go wide as a saucer. “You’re letting me watch you make it?” And there’s excitement in there, Steve could taste it, even if Tony is trying so hard to keep it contained.

“I mean, we’re not busy now,” he shrugs and the doorbell dings, seeing the only couple who was there out. “And we’re closing in fifteen minutes so…” Steve turns back to Tony, mouth stretching slowly into a smile, eyes twinkling and he could see Tony’s face wearing his reflection as he stands up.

“Lead the way, fine Sir.”

Changing opinions is not an easy thing to do; especially those cemented so strongly from first impressions.

Seeing Tony the second time immediately made Steve’s spine tense up. But he’s been on this job for a very long time and he knows how to keep feelings away from his profession. He looks Tony straight in the eyes and beamed at him like sunshine.

“Hello! Welcome to Purricano, what would you like to have today?”

Steve distinctly remembers Tony’s eyes going saucer shape wide that day; two rapid blinks and a slack jaw which required Steve’s arched eyebrows to work. (If you ask Tony, of course he’s going to deny that.)

“You’re smiling today,” he squinted. “Why are you smiling? Do I have something on my face?” His eyes flashed towards the nearest reflective surface and Steve swallowed a bubbling laugh.

“Except for your fashionable pink sunglasses, I assure you, there is nothing on your face, Mister,” (and your stupid goatee), Steve kept smiling creepily.

Tony’s eyes grew narrower, and he glanced over his shoulder once - making sure no one else was waiting in line - before leaning close to the counter. He beckoned at Steve with one elegant finger, and he hushed, “Do you really think it’s fashionable?”

And the first bubble of laughter escaped out of Steve’s chest that day.

Never stopped ever since.

Tony makes him happy. There’s no denying in that.

It’s probably why Bucky keeps pestering Steve to ask him out; because it’s been years since Steve last laughed. Genuinely, and this loud.

“Oh god,” he clutches his stomach, wiping tears from his eyes.

The horrible latte art Tony attempted stares back with ugly googly eyes when he looks down and he bursts into another fit of laughter.

He could feel one of the felines’ tail curling around his ankle curiously, and a pair of large green eyes peer up at him longingly with an accompanying pitiful meow.

“Not,” Steve tells her.

None of the cats are allowed on the counter; even Alpine doesn’t get the pass. But she likes to try the most out of them all. The rest are already settled for bedtime, and Steve briefly thanks his quick wit to flip the sign close on the front door before he starts showing Tony around.

He turns to him with aching cheeks, tingling skin but the remnant of his grin dies when he sees Tony’s face. Something else takes residence in his belly instead; wings flapping neurotically, lifting to fly away.

“What?” he asks, lashes fluttering, breath sticking like glue on the lining of his throat. Because Tony looks dazed, like he’d just witnessed something divine but got no vocabulary enough to describe what was that.

He shakes his head, inhale sounding sharp, and he tries to bury his words under a chuckle but Steve hears him this time. “You’re beautiful.”

Loud like a Church’s bell, echoing even after and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest. Hope, blossoms like Queen of the Night; rapid and shy. Would die with a single ‘no’ from Tony, would probably never bloom again after this, but the hope is heavy as well as pretty; pushes Steve to ask Tony, “Did you mean that?”

Tony’s eyes snap up and Steve could see the same hope growing in them. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice high with a nervous tremor and it comes out like a breathy bark. His shoulders come loose, all limbs as well, and he reaches out for Steve before he stops himself.

Can I? His eyes ask, and Steve takes a step forward. Of course; his gesture screams. Of course, you can.

Tony's hand touches his cheek and Steve thinks maybe this Queen of the night would live to see daylights.

He shudders, full body. Closes his eyes tight and wills those butterflies in his belly to calm down. He smells Tony before he hears him; spice and a spilled can of cinnamon from just now. "Shh," Tony tells him. "Shh," and Steve sighs into his palm.

His thumb drags a stripe under his eye, and Tony says, "God, Steve… Can't you see how bad I want you?"

The truth is no. Steve didn't see it. He shakes his head.

"Why'd you think I keep coming back," Tony asks, so close now that Steve swears he could hear the rumble in his chest even if their bodies are not touching. Yet.

Feeling somewhat more grounded, he guesses, "For the cats?"

And Tony laughs.

Not just a little but a full hearty laugh that makes him wheeze.

"Oh no," he splutters, trying to gather himself apiece while Steve's surprise slowly shifts into a scowl.

"No, no, no," he chants, reaching for Steve again, catching his face with two hands, cupping and Tony's so bright with joy when he presses their foreheads together.

"Steve, Steve, Steven," he breathes. "Honey, I can’t go near a cat without popping twenty antihistamines."

"I'm allergic to them."

"What?" Steve pulls back. More shocked than surprise now. "But -,"

"It's you," Tony cuts him off, pulling him back by his hips, and he butts his head into Steve’s breastbone. Buries his next words in there; "I fell in love with you, Rogers. Not them.”

And he sounds almost whiny but Steve can see now, why; can’t believe Tony’s been inhaling allergy medications to see Steve -

“Jesus Christ.” A little frustration seeps into Steve’s own voice as he buries his fingers into Tony’s hair. “I can’t believe you’re allergic to cats.”

A betrayed meow sounded from below and both of them look down to find Liho, gazing expectantly at Tony. “Meow,” she says again.

“Think you got some explaining to do,” Steve smirks, looking at Tony. As if on cue, Tony sneezes so hard that Liho jumps a foot in the air before scrambling away in fear.

“Oh uh,” he cups his mouth and nose, blinking at Steve, lost.

And Steve knows it’s bad to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. At least he saves himself with a smooth invite when he’d calmed down. “Wanna wait outside? Let me close the shop and we’ll…”

“Dinner?”

“Definitely.”

“Great!” Tony grins at him so prettily and Steve, with his heart fluttering in its cage, leans in and kisses him sweet.

#stony #stevetony #mine #prompts

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likeholymary · 4 years ago

Text

— untitled ii.

playlist | masterlist

summary: once dear friends in college, obi-wan and (y/n) have bumped into each other in the capitol city of coruscant while both working there. will they rekindle their old romance from their college years, or will they remain as passing faces in each other’s lives? takes place in college years and 10+ years after.

a/n: fluff AND MORE ANGST awaits you in this chapter! also some good music references await you as well😌 also, just to note, i am a slut for obi-wan and his beard, so yes, he does have a bit of a beard in his college years, i do not accept any slander for this creative decision bc you can’t deny how hot the man is with a beard. also, not as much college content, but there will be more in part three! i hope you all enjoy! please reblog if you like this enough to do so, i appreciate it more than words can say! i love you all☺️ warnings! a few swear words!

word count: 3.7k words

present.

“AUNTIE (Y/N)!”

You could hear the chorus of the screaming twins from your car, a smile beginning to inch its way across your lips, despite the heavy weight of a decade of old baggage weighing down on you more and more throughout the day. At least now you would be able to bask in some temporary, if not chaotic, joy brought by Luke and Leia.

The blonde and brunette came skidding up to your knees, running so quickly they almost knocked you over. You laughed openly, bending down to let the two envelope themselves around you. Luke crawled up on you back, asking politely for a piggy back ride into the house, while Leia simply just crawled up on you, wrapping her legs around you waist and holding onto your shoulders, despite the fact that you were carrying your very large purse. You just hoped you didn’t drop it - after all, it did have your datapad in it, and you did not want to break that thing.

“Auntie (Y/N), have you been crying?”

Leia was never one to shy away from the facts. That five year old would be the end of you.

While Leia looked at you quizzically, Luke stroked your hair with his little hands. “Are you sad, auntie? We can eat your favorite chocolate if that will make you not sad anymore. I don’t want you to be sad.” And that five year old would probably make you cry again, his sweet natured personality always shining through.

“Whose crying? No crying, we’re all fine!”

Anakin came rushing through the dining area from the kitchen to the front door where you stood with the twins still clinging to your body, and he nearly slipped and fell on his face as he ran too quickly with socks on the wood floor.

Luke and Leia giggled as he stumbled and caught himself before the both crawled off of you, now attempting to tackle their father.

“No, no, no wrestling right now, guys!”

Now it was you who could not hold back a small snicker, watching the poor father be smothered by his two children. It took him a moment to pry them off his legs.

Anakin leaned against the archway leading into the kitchen attempting to catch his breath as he laughed. “I’m not even going to apologize for the twins because I’m pretty sure you and I were the same way.”

You set your bag down on the bench by the door, shrugging your blazer off. “I don’t know, I think the twins are at least open with one another.”

Music from the 70s played in the background from C-3PO’s portable extension speaker. Anakin looked confused, coming up to rest a hand on your shoulder. “What are you talking about? We tell each other everything, we— oh. Oh no.”

Now, granted, Anakin had thought that keeping Obi-Wan’s return a secret was a good idea. Initially. He now realizes he was so wrong as he looks at the deadly expression on your face, the way your eyebrows are arched, the way you clench and unclench your fists and then shake them as if attempting to shake off your emotions, but he sees you slipping.

You’re going to kick his ass and he knows it.

Damn, I knew I should have told Padmé and asked for her advice. Anakin thought as ‘Does Your Mother Know’ by ABBA began to blast through the speaker in the kitchen.

“You better start running, Skywalker.”

Anakin whipped around the corner, knowing all too well that he was in some deep kriffing trouble. You were hot on his tail, still in your heels, and you would not let him get away. He, after all, was in socks, and therefore would be more prone to slipping. You, on the other hand, had been challenged by Anakin a few years ago to run in your heels as he believed that it was impossible. He had been wrong then, and he was still wrong now.

You both remembered in that moment chasing each other through your homes back in Tatooine, cracking jokes and waiting to tackle each other or wrestle each other for victory. You were proud to say you often beat Anakin because he was.... well, honestly, he was a weakling when you were young.

Anakin was practically your brother, you were everything to each other, and you felt as if this was a deep betrayal. Anakin knew how broken you had been after your unspeakable breakup with Obi-Wan, but he, being the idiot he was, obviously had kept this tidbit of information to himself.

And for what gain? Did he really think you would allow yourself to fall back into Obi-Wan’s arms? Did he really think everything would go back to the way it was in college, that the four of you would go back to having double-dates, that what? you and Obi-Wan would get married and have children of your own?

What a foolhardy dream that was, and you knew it more than anyone.

Chasing him through the living room, he ran through into the dining room, running around the long table. You caught up just as quickly, grabbing the table and giving it a light shove to knock into him. He stumbled a bit but grabbed the table to ground himself.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, I should have told you—“

“Sorry?” You said incredulously. You laughed, astounded by your idiot of a best friends stupid response. “Oh, we are past sorry. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You knew what he put me through. You were there, helping pick up the pieces that he left behind. And only now you think it’s a good idea to not tell me he would be waltzing back into our lives?”

Anakin winced at every word, knowing he had royally forked (his vernacular changed after having children) up. Where was Padmé when he needed her to calm you and your fiery temper down?

You grabbed one of your heels and chucked it at his head, knowing he would dodge it, but you still almost wished it would have at least given him a bruise. And of course, he dodged it.

Anakin began running again, this time cutting through the kitchen. “Anakin Skywalker, you get back here!”

Now, you were wondering where the twins had run off to. Surely they would want to see you kick their father’s butt.

Well, the twins had run off to go grab their foam swords once you had begun chasing their father, but had a minor argument about whether or not the swords were in Luke’s room or the playroom (they were actually hidden in the hall closet, I wonder who put them there).

“Aunt (Y/N), here, get him!” Leia yelled at you, throwing you one of the foam swords, while Luke politely handed Anakin the other. “Sorry dad, I’m rooting for Aunt (Y/N).” Luke whispered.

Anakin smiled sadly. “Me too, bud.”

The living room was sunken in, and quite an open space, with divider couches in the center of the area, plenty of space to run around and play in. Perfect for having a set of chaotic twins. And now perfect for a foam sword duel between you and Anakin. ABBA still blasted from the speakers, and it only helped in amping your frustrations.

You stood behind one of the couches, panting heavily as you began to pace in place.

You understood why Anakin had stayed friends with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was the only real male figure in his life, both like a brother and a father, but after they served together in the Republic army it became more apparent that their brotherly bond was something that could transcend lifetimes.

However, had Anakin so quickly forgotten the state you had been left in after discovering Obi-Wan’s relationship with Satine?

You couldn’t think about those memories right now, having already spent all day dwelling on the past, barely getting any work done.

You charged at Anakin, beginning to beat him with your foam sword, and he took it, as he felt he should, feeling the betrayal you felt with each strike. “Would you at least fight back?” You yelled. “This isn’t much of a fight, and your children are watching. Talk about embarrassing, Skywalker.” You breathed heavily, ceasing to beat Anakin as he grabbed the foam blade you had raised, ready to hit him some more.

“I’m not going to fight you, (Y/N/N).”

You paused, looking up into his soft, crystal blue eyes and you began to feel it.

Your tough, anger-filled facade began to crack, Obi-Wan’s memory once again taking a hammer and destroying any mask you would try and force upon yourself to keep anyone from seeing even a sliver of sadness out of you. A singular tear began to slip down your cheek as Anakin cupped your cheek, frowning knowingly, before enveloping you in one of those infamous Skywalker hugs that you knew was a true gift every time you received one. The twins even came up, both of them hugging each of your legs.

“I wish you would have at least let me punch you,” you mumbled into his chest. You could feel his laughter rumbling through his chest, just as you heard the garage door opening.

“Pads must be home,” you sighed, pushing Anakin away as you went to pick up Leia, Luke running to the door. What a momma’s boy.

Padmé looked forever beautiful, even after a day at work. She kicked off her heels and set down her large purse on the bench by the garage door, grinning as she saw Luke running toward him. She was quick to pick the five-year old up, greeting him excitedly.

“And where is your sister?” “With Auntie (Y/N)!”

Padmé turned the corner to find you holding her daughter, doting on her twin buns and poking her nose, thanking her for ‘the sword’ she had given you.

“What’s this about a sword fight?” Padmé questioned with a raised brow and a smile.

“Mommy! Auntie (Y/N) kicked Daddy’s butt!” “Yeah! He made her cry!”

Padmé’s eyes flashed with both concern and anger, glaring quickly at Anakin and then casting a soft gaze of concern upon you, reaching out with her free hand to graze your arm affectionately.

“But I’m not really sure why he made her cry... We were too busy grabbing the foam swords.” Anakin mumbled, “Yeah, I thought I had hidden those after last time...” “What!” Both of the twins shouted, quickly slipping themselves out of you and Padmé’s arms to go chase their father and tackle him for the 8th time that day.

“Why did Ani make you cry?”

You bit your lip, chewing on it like you used to when you were nervous, an old habit you couldn’t shake in your most anxious days.

“Obi-Wan is back and Anakin knew. He... he didn’t tell me.”

There was nothing more you needed to say, and Padmé grabbed your hand, dragging you back to her room so you could relay all of the details and she could change after a long day in the office. As you relayed the details of literally walking into Obi-Wan and Anakin’s knowledge that he withheld about Kenobi’s return (“Oh, he is going to regret having kept that from me”), Padmé would gasp from the inside of her walk-in closet every once and awhile at what comments you had made as well as Obi-Wan’s attitude that he could make such a return and act as if there were no consequences.

She came back out in more comfortable clothes, a teal oversized-cropped sweatshirt and some grey sweatpants with fuzzy socks seemed to be the comfy-mom fit, paired with a low messy bun. How she managed to still look stunning was beyond you, but Padmé could walk around in a potato sack, and the press would call it a fashion statement that would quickly become the latest trend. She was astounding.

Padmé came and sat down next to you on her and Anakin’s bed, pulling you into a warm hug. You took a shaky breath as the tears finally began to fall. He was breaking you again. And you couldn’t stand the feeling of helplessness that washed over you as your shoulders began to shake. You tried muffling your sobs, but it was so hard to hold back the waters after the dam had already cracked and had begun to flood, rushing through you with memories of a now wished forgotten yesterday.

college years.

You had survived the first few weeks of college thus far and you were more than happy for it.

Of course, you had a few whacky professors (like the one who didn’t understand his students sarcasm, or the one who talked about anything other than the course work), but you had survived your first few sets of midterms, save the last one you had later this afternoon.

You made your way to your favorite place on campus, the small Twin Suns Coffee Bar that was nestled inside the student activity center. It wasn’t a place to sit and chat with friends, more just the basic aspect and aesthetic of a regular Twin Suns, simply a coffee bar there to fuel the students making their way to different classes, jobs or internships.

You strangely loved the busy atmosphere, well, when you yourself weren’t busy, and you had a few hours to fuel up on some coffee and break into a study session before your exam. As you got in line, you enjoyed watching the people rush by, listening to the sound of coffee beans grinding, the soft indie music playing through the speakers.

As you stood, lightly swaying and breathing in the smell of the rich espresso being poured over some milk, you spotted a familiar head of golden hair headed this way.

Obi-Wan had his nose stuck in a book, but he easily maneuvered among the bustling of the people as he would through the student center. You tried waving to get his attention, however it seemed he was to enraptured in whatever he was reading to fully pay attention to his surroundings.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, he seemed to be like this quite often, or at least, that’s how he seemed whenever you visited his and Anakin’s apartment. Always studying. Anakin tried to convince you that he was the actually amusing individual he described, that he was just busy with his studies as he had some more advanced classes he was taking. Thus far, you were not convinced.

You finally decided to call his name. “Obi-Wan!”

His head shot up in an alert sort-of surprise, and after a moment his eyes finally caught with yours and a small smile crossed his features as he made his way towards you at the back of the line.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile, (Y/N).”

“You saw me last night at your apartment.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right.” He chuckled to himself, ducking his head in embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose I’ve been rather busy with my courses this semester.”

“Yes, that’s what Anakin has told me. He talked you up so much as some reckless guy like him, but so far I haven’t seen any proof of such an Obi-Wan. Perhaps you’ve gotten too old.” You said slyly, smirking in just the slightest way, your comment causing him to laugh.

His eyes twinkled down at you, and they seemed to shine in the light from the coffee bar, it seemed almost unfair to be in his presence. He was just too beautiful, those cerulean eyes so captivating and difficult to look away from...

“Too old? Well, after such an insult I suppose I won’t invite you to the little party Anakin and I were going to tonight.” He looked up, feigning to be studying the menu as his lips curved into a cheeky grin, knowing he had caught your attention now.

“A party?” Your eyes snapped to look up at him, your eyes begging him to look down at you. You composed yourself, mimicking his position as you stared at the menu, even though you already knew what you wanted. “Anakin would take me anyways,” you stated nonchalantly, “but would this party mean getting to see you with your nose out of a book for once?”

Obi-Wan turned to face you now, looking down at you with that impish grin still stuck on his face, his dimples peaking out from his beard. “I suppose you’ll have to determine that, my dear.”

A blush began to creep up your neck, and you could feel your face getting hot as you stared into his eyes, refusing to break eye contact.

“Hi, can I take your order?” The impatient barista asked, watching awkwardly as the two of you stared at each other.

Obi-Wan calmly turned to the barista, and ordered a nitro cold brew before turning to you, motioning for you to order as he pulled out his wallet. “Order whatever you’d like, it’s on me today.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to win me over now by buying me coffee?” “Well, I at least want to seem interesting, and what’s more interesting than a bit of chivalry in this modern world?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his comment, trying desperately to look anywhere than his piercing gaze. “You should take the offer.” The barista said, and you stared at her incredulously, biting your lip and huffing before you begrudgingly ordered your favorite drink.

Obi-Wan walked with you over to the waiting area, grabbing a napkin as soon as you reached it. He pulled a sharpie out from one of the side pockets on his backpack, and then began to scrawl something out on the napkin before handing it to you. His fingers brushed across yours just briefly, but you swore you felt an electrifying tingle shoot up your arm and a warm feeling following.

It had his phone number on it. “So you can text me later about tonight to let me know if you’re finally ready to get to know me.”

You pointed a finger at him as your eyebrows began to furrow. “Hey, you’re the one whose always too busy whenever I am around.” Now you had him pinned. He was being such a flirt, you almost couldn’t believe his smug attitude, no matter how endearing it felt or how much it made you a little weak in the knees. “Who said I wouldn’t make time for you?”

You thought you would collapse then and there. Obi-Wan leaned down, whispering in your ear. “You only had to ask.”

Just then the barista called his name, and his lips were gone, having brushed just lightly against your ear. This was not the Kenobi you had imagined when Anakin had told you all about their grand collegiate adventures.

No, this was so much better.

Obi-Wan handed you your drink, flashing you a smile as he began to walk away, backwards. “I hope to see you later tonight, darling.”

And then he began to blend back into the crowd, but you could still see remnants of his perfect golden hair moving as he continued to drift from view until you could no longer see him.

“You love him and you never let him go.” The barista behind you said, looking just as charmed by Obi-Wan as you felt.

“Yeah, I will.” You responded, still left in the daze that now seemed to consume you. How were you going to even be able to study for your test now?

present.

After dinner, the twins had pleaded for yet another infamous movie night with Auntie (Y/N). Of course, you caved, even though you could have probably used a night in with a bottle of wine and some tissues for the inevitable onslaught of tears that were to come once you were alone again. You were just about three-fourths of the way through Finding Nemo when the twins fell asleep, Luke laying on the pillow in your lap and Leia cuddled up against Padmé. You smiled down at Luke, affectionately running your fingers through his hair as he lightly snored. Just like his dad, you thought.

Someone’s phone buzzed, but you didn’t really care, just trying to focus on the movie and not think about the day you had just had. Anakin got up as the phone continued to buzz with text after text. “Uh... It’s for me, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, don’t be too long, I’ll need your help putting the twins to bed soon.”

Padmé turned to look at you, while you continued to watch the Disney movie on the screen, Dory yelling after Marvin after they lost their chance at finding Nemo. You tried focusing on the movie, but after the long, emotional day you had, your thoughts began to slip back to him. “I look at you and I’m home.”

You tried wiping away the tears, but it was hard to do so with Luke practically sprawled on top of you. Maybe it was time for that bottle of wine.

You pulled Luke off of you, moving his sleepy body right beside Leia’s on top of Padmé. “Are you leaving?” She asked. You nodded your head, watching as Luke nuzzled himself into a comfortable position, cuddling closely to his mother. “Well, drive safe, and make sure to text Anakin or I when you get home safely. Speaking of, where is he?”

“I’m sure he’s just taking a breath outside or something. I’ll see you later, Pads.”

You wiped away any remaining tears as you stood by the front door, grabbing your purse and blazer. However, as you stood by the door, you heard quiet muffled voices somewhere in the front yard that sounded like they were arguing. Anakin better not be arguing with the neighbors over mowing the lawn again...

You gently opened the front door, trying not to make too much noise not only for the sake of the twins but also so you wouldn’t spook whoever it was who was outside. When you turned around after shutting the door however, the voices stopped.

And standing on the sidewalk next to you car was Obi-Wan.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan kenobi x reader #modern obi wan kenobi x reader #modern obi wan #modern star wars #modern!star wars #modern!obi wan #modern obi wan kenobi #modern au #star wars au #untitled #obi wan kenobi au

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a-dorin · 4 years ago

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it takes two to tango

pairing: professor!obi-wan kenobi x female reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: professor/student relationship, unprofessionalism, flirting, cursing, age gap, love triangle(maybe?), allusions to sex, mentions of oral

a/n: hellooooo! this is a little blurb or oneshot based off my ardor au, featuring professor!maul as well as other characters in college! for some context, this idea stemmed from this post linked here! i hope you guys enjoy! :))

read the first chapter of ardor here!

“welcome to writing foundations. i am professor kenobi, but i go by an array of names. you can refer to me as obi-wan, obi, or ben. if you’d like, you can just keep the professor kenobi. it makes things a little easier and maintains the professionalism.”

letting out a quiet sigh, you fidgeted in your seat, chin resting in one hand, the other absentmindedly brushing over the keys of your laptop. your phone rested on your lap, vibrating every few minutes or so with a variety of notifications.

however, one notification in particular caught your attention, pulling your focus away from the professor.

it was a text from your boyfriend, flashing across the face of your apple watch.

i miss seeing your gorgeous face in class. :’( maybe i should’ve failed you so you were forced to retake the course. just kidding! or am i? ;)

upon reading the message the corner of your lips tugged into a shy grin, hands flying to your phone to respond.

“am i really that boring? or, is that text too important for you to focus?”

the inquiry was laced with scorn, your cheeks flushing as your eyes traveled upwards, focusing on the front of the classroom. professor kenobi arched a brow, his arms folded across his chest, a frown etched across his features.

“well?”

giggles erupted from several of the freshmen, the sound bouncing off the walls. reluctantly, you set your phone face down on the desk, “sorry.”

“i expect your undivided attention for the rest of the period,” he retorted, “i do not tolerate any disrespect directed towards my time in lecture. that does include texting, snapping, and sleeping in class. i will not hesitate to take your phone either.”

“i said i was sorry,” you gritted your teeth, your jaw clenching as the laughter continued, “you can proceed, professor kenobi.”

“i’m glad we’re both on the same page,” he rolled his eyes, plucking a marker off the tray, “now i’m going to write down my contacts on the whiteboard here. feel free to utilize my email at your leisure. i am aware of how some professors feel about giving out their numbers, but i have the utmost confidence that you all won’t abuse your texting privileges. well, maybe not all of you.”

fiddling with your laptop, you pulled up a new document for some notes. although you sure that professor kenobi wasn’t going to dive straight into lecture, who knew what his next move entailed.

already, you understood why maul was not fond of the professor. his aura was cold yet witty, and a bit pretentious. well, he was warm and kind, spitting out a few jokes here and there. that was until he caught you typing out a text. maybe that was just one of his pet peeves.

or maybe he was just an asshole, like maul said.

to your right, there were a couple of twi’leks scribbling away on the syllabus, copying what was written on the board. although you were a seat away, you could make out a few breathy giggles and hushed murmurs.

“maker he is so hot.”

at the comment, your eyes shifted towards the english professor. for the first day of class, he was donned in a tweed jacket, the color a darker, more chocolate brown, with beige patches on the elbows. the jacket was paired with a pair of khaki slacks, the glitter of a chain dangling from his pocket. it was more than likely a pocket watch.

he was average in stature, with a pale complexion. from your guess, he was a younger professor, somewhere in his late thirties, early forties. sure, although he was older, he had a handsome face. and the auburn beard only enhanced his features, complementing the icy blue hue of his eyes.

that was one of the first noticeable aspects of professor kenobi. his eyes were a brilliant color, bursting with emotion and shining with warmth as he welcomed you into the classroom.

yet, his first impression was nowhere near maul’s.

“i wish he would yell at me in class like he did with that girl.”

“be quiet or she’ll hear you!”

“now,” professor kenobi cleared his throat, smoothing out his coat, “i want to take the last twenty-five minutes to discuss your first assignment. don’t worry, it’ll only take me a few minutes to explain it then you’ll have the rest of the time to work. for your assignment, i want you to write about someone important in your life. i would like to hear what you find admirable about them, along with a few of their quirks. it can be anyone: a relative, friend, or significant other. the paper should be three paragraphs: an introduction of your chosen person, a body with an explanation of why you admire them, and then a conclusion. how you craft the conclusion is up to you.”

a hand shot up in the air, prompting a question. professor kenobi’s brow furrowed, “yes?”

the twi’lek to your right cleared her throat, “can it be a member of the faculty on campus?”

“it can be anyone of your choice. it can be a celebrity for all i care,” he chuckled, “the assignment is an assessment of your writing capabilities. it’s so that i can see where everyone is at.”

another student raised their hand, professor kenobi’s voice drowning in your ears. clicking on the title tab, you began to formulate a title for your paper, biting your lip as your mind buzzed.

who would you write your paper about? well, your mind was gravitating towards one individual. a crimson zabrak.

but would that jeopardize everything? would kenobi be able to read in between the lines? surely not. they were professors in vastly different departments. surely they rarely crossed paths.

“are you going to write about professor maul?” the twi’lek’s friend teased her, “if you do, you better hope that his girlfriend never finds it!”

“he has a girlfriend?” her companion snorted, “i was in his class this morning and he never mentioned any girlfriend.”

“there’s rumors going on all over campus. he has a girlfriend, but he won’t give anyone her name or even a picture. the only picture anyone knows about is the wallpaper on his macbook. i guess it’s just really private to him.”

the blush in your cheeks only deepened by their comments, your heart fluttering. was the entire campus really creating rumors about maul? and why did everyone care so much?

yet, the sound of his voice ringing across the class ceased your eavesdropping.

“now, i am sure this is the statement you all have been waiting for: class is dismissed. i will be sticking around for a few minutes if any of you have any questions.”

with no hesitations, students sprang to their feet, a flurry of chatter swirling all around you as they filed out of the classroom. plucking your laptop off the table, you placed it into the its case, shoving it in your book-bag. the twi’leks next to you flashed you a meek smile, shouldering past your seat.

“you know, you’re quite distracting.”

your lips pursed as your head swiveled towards the front of the class, “excuse me?”

“i’m not going to repeat myself,” professor kenobi shuffled some papers together, filing them into his satchel, “by the way, you need to watch your tone. i don’t like brats in my classoom.”

your breath hitched in your throat, “w-what? i’m not a brat.”

“yes you are,” kenobi fired back, “blatantly disrespecting your professor like that? i’m afraid that’s bratty behavior, love, and i don’t like it.”

“well i’m afraid it’s not going to happen again.”

you nearly couldn’t process what was happening. although he was putting up a tough exterior, the words stern, his tone said otherwise. it was light, laced with a tease.

was he flirting with you?

“good,” he nodded, “because i have a tendency to punish bratty students.”

“i--” your throat tightened, “oh my--”

“by the way,” he crossed over to the table where you were situated, a smirk plastered across his features, “you have gorgeous eyes, (y/n). i never noticed until now, but your sweater complements them. now, you should head out. you have other classes, don’t you? i look forward to seeing you in lecture tomorrow. oh, and you better watch that pretty little mouth of yours.”

within seconds, he was out the door, leaving you stunned in your chair.

the confrontation had your cheeks burning, your mouth dry.

not only did you happen to capture the attention of one professor on the first day of class, but you managed to do it twice.

yet, what professor kenobi didn’t know was that there was a certain zabrak in his office, awaiting your arrival in a matter of minutes.

and what professor kenobi didn’t seem to grasp was one singular aspect about a relationship.

it always takes two to tango.

at the moment, he was the only one expressing interest.

tomorrow though, who knew what he would do or say.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

tagged: @shannon-odonovan @maulieber @snips-n-skyguy0501 @calamity-queen @anakinswhore @justalittlecloud @pascalz @hounding-around @sasurah @laorme34 @littlevodika

#ardor: a professor maul au #professor!maul #professor!kenobi #ardor #star wars au #obi wan #obi wan kenobi

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keeper-not-hero · 3 years ago

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MY THREE HUMANS AND MY THREE TROLLS ARE FINALLY DONE BEING THOUGHT ABOUT AND ARE NOW PLACED INTO THE WORLD FOR YOU TO ENJOY READING ABOUT, Massive post under read more!!!

[Obs: These ain’t kids. They’re all in their early 20’s tho.]

Gatolt Osbizb (name means nothing. = Muse of Doom.) -

Looks: Hair that goes down to her shoulders, curly and surprisingly well groomed. Skin (and body) made up of tiny chunks stitched together. Fingers, hands, legs, slightly different shades of grey, with seams colored with the multitude of different blood types beneath. Blank eyes, shirt and pants. Simplistic dress code.

Personality: A hodgepodge of Troll flesh, bones, and a few cybernetic enhancements all stitched together into a singular being. Goldblood, purple blood, violet, and more. Both of her eyes are blank (though she can still see thanks to cyberoptics), and she is usually in at least a mild amount of pain due to the strain of her body barely being able to keep itself together. Despite all that, she tries to act cheery and tries to be the life of her friend circle, though not always with success. And besides, she rarely tries to mingle outside of it, feeling unwelcome in other circles.

Constantly requires maintenance which she usually does herself, and… fresh replacements. Her creator fucked up in making her, which means she is now slowly yet constantly rotting away, to the point every part of her body except the brain and enhancements are different than her first resurrection. Her girlfriend, Bakhus, usually helps with gathering ‘replacements’. She feels like a burden due to her condition that sometimes leaves her bedridden for days, which makes her stay quiet and sometimes even enable her friends’ bad habits, because she doesn’t want to be a drag. Hates the fact her whole life revolves around her condition. Likes gardening and clockwork.

Bakhus Gredui (Greedy Bacchus / Dionysius. = Thief of Void) -

Looks: Hair that goes all the way to the floor and a few feet behind her, greasy, messy, and dragging food bits in it. Tank top with her sign (Sign of the Brazen) on it, suspenders and oversized clown pants. Juggalo make-up messy and somewhat faded, droopy yellow eyes, usually with a hunched stance. Very, very tall, and extremely strong - with some healthy weight to her body to go along with it.

Personality: A purple-blood that represses her kind and motherly urges under liters and liters of Faygo. A chef at heart and a great cook from years of experience, she constantly throws barbecues and small carnivals on her massive garden, which attracts lowblood and highblood alike. Her festivities have become small gathering spots for those who wish to mingle with the upper / lower classes despite their own status, and for spies of both the Condescension and those who oppose her. Bakhus is, of course, too busy grilling to mind that she has accidentally created the perfect neutral spot.

Despite her cooking prowess, the Faygo inhibits both her ability to feel much empathy or care about the taste of her food. Deliciously cooked and prepared meals placed near overly-sugary, soggy, Faygo-drenched pretzels. She carries a massive cookbook alongside her massive pot, which has recipes that certain blood types enjoy, and… recipes made out of said blood types. She has no qualms cooking violets and reds, and sometimes will go so far as to grab Faygo-drunk trolls in her cookout and take them inside to ‘rest’. They’re never seen again.

Also keeps a small spice garden. Gatolt usually takes care of it, with whatever isn’t used to cook as fertilizer. Occasionally, she sends the butchered corpses to Marciu. Who also happens to be Gatolt’s creator.

Marciu Shelli (Like, y’know. Mary Shelley. Frankenstein’s author. = Seer of Space) -

Looks: Short hair, think Eridan, but with no streak. Scrawny to a fault, and clearly underfed. Big scientist glasses with special prescription lenses, white lab robes that hide his starving figure and his left hand gloved with thick, hazmat-suit-like protection. The right one is a prosthetic, indigo tubes and wires trying to replicate the sensation of the original with… some success. Pointy nose, sharp teef.

Personality: Anxious, skittery and, quite frankly pitiful even for an indigo blood, Marciu spends most of his days either robbing graves for corpses or putting his ill-gotten gains to use in his laboratory. Deeply resentful of feelings he has about himself, he buries them deep within him and, to make sure no one can say he is valid or try to empathize with his pain, keeps pushing himself further and further down the hole until he pushes everyone away. Having lost a hand to a nasty accident involving a bone saw and a few too many of Bakhus’ spiked snacks, he also has a mechanical replacement.

A master of biomechanical engineering, he constantly creates half-troll, half-machine abominations to help him around the lab. Rotten servants just barely able to move their joints with hollow eyes and faces, mechanical hearts pumping blood and fuel throughout the system. Still, despite his best attempts at being as repugnant as possible, his friends still cling to him.

Except Gatolt. Gatolt has actively tried to kill him multiple times, being stopped only by Bakhus’ eternal kindness to the weirdo that occasionally gives her “aged” ingredients. Also, his human friends.

[Why does he have human friends? Idk, Pesterchum + machines or AU where humans and trolls live in the same world after a few Sburb/Sgrub/Swhatever versions playing out after homestuck and Lord English being gone.]

Bert Kairos (Albert Einstein and his whole relativity stuff + Kairos, a greek concept of time. = Mage of Time.) -

Looks: Very short and very curly hair. Dark skin, both legs missing, though one has a very unpolished, simplistic metal prosthetic to help him stand in one foot. Right arm missing too, half of a prosthetic attached to it,cut off at the elbow from an accident. Hasn’t bothered replacing it yet. Blouse with a robot symbol and shorts, chin stubble. Brown eyes.

Personality: A gentle soul who makes more time for everyone else than he ever did to himself. Spending literal days away from his parents’ home, staying in his makeshift workshop creating toys for the kids on his street and to help the people of his community. Lost both legs and an arm from accidents with heavy machinery and cars that he work repairing to make a living, usually for meager scraps out of the kindness of his own heart and the belief that it’s all part of a greater plan that he barely gets enough to survive, relying on crutches and Marciu’s prosthetics that often break because of even more accidents due to his very precarious working conditions.

He dreams of one day being able to inspire people, though. A big, endless machine of silly, simple delights. Not curing the world, not controlling the weather, a machine with the same utility as a painting. A machine that could cover the entire world in its width and length, proof that humanity can do anything if it just bands together. A wish that sometimes consumes his mind as he spends hours on end, instead of sleeping, building small moving pieces that will hopefully one day help fill this whole. This magnificent machine he will make to help mankind flourish through its artistic value, that they will sing his name in praise for generations, that mankind will be uplifted until we don’t need work, money, barriers, differences, just a homogenous mass streaking across the cosmos with machine brilliance.

But, he has way too many people to take care of, so he never dabbles on it too much.

Andy Eissuh ( :) - Lord of Life) -

Looks: Blonde hair tied in a manbun. Bushy stubble beard all over his face. Smuggest fucking grin you’ve ever seen. Blue eyes. Average height, an air of superiority that is as annoying as it is believable due to how he carries himself; like an untouchable douchebag. White tuxedo and business pants, y’know, like a doctor. Right? He’s even got the white cross! Yeah, sure, that sounds right. Like he cares about proper dress code for doctors.

Personality: A very, very, very bad doctor. A very bad doctor that has just enough good reputation and far too much money from their family to let their pretty much 100% patient loss rate slip without anyone being able to pry into it. Patient comes in, body bag goes out, and nothing ever leaves the hospital. The one time he actually saved someone was by accident, and it was a botched (and misdiagnosed by him) liver transplant where he accidentally removed the appendix instead of said liver, forgot to replace it, and the patient recovered in a short while with the help of the nurses from what he later learned was appendicitis.

Believing himself to be able to do no wrong, with a chirpy, colorful yet aggressively passive personality, he keeps his friend group around mostly to dispose of the bodies without many questions asked, and so he can feel better than the pathetic wretches he considers them. Completely blind to his irredeemably cruel medical malpractices, which he didn’t even study for, he simply bought his way into a degree because he “could feel it was my destiny.” Soft, sweet, and completely unhinged. Finding great joy preying upon the insecurities and naivete of his peers, which he feels is a breeding ground to use and abuse them for his own needs. Shoulda been smarter if you didn’t wanna get taken advantage of, duh!

Cain Pyrite (Cain the first sinner + Fool’s Gold. = Rogue of Light. ) -

Looks: Hair slightly above his shoulders, dark and greasy. Sickly pale skin, beeg librarian glasses. A nice fuzzy coat, plus shirt, plus jeans. Eye symbol on his coat. Looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in weeks, which, yeah, is absolutely right. Gentle smile, though it occasionally cracks into a nervous attempt at hiding… something!

Personality: Dedicated to… no, OBSESSED with preserving occult and ancient knowledge. Scrolls from ancient alchemists, bones of kings, relics thought long since lost hidden on the back of his seemingly normal book shop. Spending most of his days with no clients, he occasionally gets someone who is aware of his darker inclinations. He is always happy to trade knowledge for knowledge and artifact for artifact.

Only, not always the originals. No. Never the originals.

Always finding a way to spin a story and make sure that he can spot out any fakes, he builds his collection of convincing lies, and hidden truths. Friends with the others since grave-digging always inherits some fun and interesting things, and his appetite for the esoteric and forgotten is only comparable for his taste in interesting and unique foods.

#oc #long post #homestuck #Enjoy!!!!!!!! maybe idk #they're all horrible peopl #who will one day get better...#if i ever fucking WRITE my fanadventure #or... the dream #manage to turn it into a fancomic with someone

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #335

“on my forehead, a birthmark / remove it with the kiss of a knife / even if it causes me to die”

Do you recover well from surgery? Judging by the two surgeries I've had, oh yeah. I was hyper as hell when I came home from getting tubes put in my ears as a little kid, even though the doctor said I'd be very sleepy. Then, after my cyst removal, I was put on very strong painkillers but was still warned it was going to be a painful recovery, when it totally wasn't. I literally only took painkillers the first day. What addictions have you had? Caffeine, technology. Would you change your name if you became famous? Nah. If Cupid were real, would you hire him to make someone love you? No. I don't want somebody forced to love me. Ever been to an auction? No. Which word(s) do you generally use to describe someone attractive? (e.g. “fit”, “sexy”) It kinda varies with gender. Women I tend to call "beautiful" or "gorgeous," sometimes "hot" or "cute," while men I usually refer to as "handsome" or "hot"/"sexy." The last person you kissed - are they older or younger than you? She's a bit younger. When was the last time someone wanted you to do something, and you refused? Hm. I dunno. I have a hard time saying "no," so. When was the last time you had Pop Tarts? What flavour were they? Many months ago; I kinda stopped eating them because they're truly not filling and just a load of sugar that veils itself as an actual breakfast choice. But anyway, I liked the chocolate sundae ones. Have you ever felt a temperature below 0? No. Did you ever play Spyro? I LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!! SPYRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those games were my CHILDHOOD, and it's half the reason I'm dying for a PS4 to play the remastered trilogy. Speaking of which, it'd be awesome if they remade the The Legend of Spyro trilogy as well. I might just like those games more than the originals, but that's a bold statement I'm unsure about. Have you ever dated someone who was of a foreign origin? I dated a Hispanic guy for less than a day. Have you ever read any of your idols’ books/autobiographies? Ozzy Osbourne's, yes. I'm just fucking waiting for Mark to write one, but he's always said he has so little interest in writing about his life. DO IT, YOU FUCK. Do you own any succulents? No. I think they're pretty, though. Do you have a drone? No. What’s your favorite Netflix series? *shrug* What is something a lot of people like but you don’t? Summertime. The heat, the humidity (at least here), the sunburn from just standing outside for ten minutes... I hate all of it. The ONLY two things I enjoy about summer is swimming and then flowers, though spring is the more floral season here anyway. Do you have revenge fantasies that you never actually play out? They've... happened. Did your first real significant other change you at all? Pretty sure forever. Are you waiting to have sex until you’re married? Once upon a time, that was the plan. Now, nah. I'd just want to be in a healthy, stable, and long-term relationship. What do you think about divorce? It's sad, but necessary for some people in order to be happy, which everyone has the right to be. I used to be very firmly against divorce except in extreme cases like abuse, etc., and I'm still definitely no fan of it and think couples should do their best to work things out, but it's incredibly unfair to believe that someone should be stuck for the rest of their life with a person they just don't love anymore. Getting married can be a mistake; don't damn people forever to be chained to their bad decisions. Do you remember the first time your heart broke? What was the reason? It was probably when Dad just abandoned us. What's the worst prank someone has ever done to you? I don't think anyone's ever pulled a sick joke on me. Have you ever seen someone sleepwalk? Yes; my little sister deadass tried to walk outside late at night. Thank God I was on the computer in the living room and stopped her. What song are you listening to right now? I just turned "Mutter" by Rammstein on. When is the last time you cursed? I'm not re-reading, but I have probably cursed fifty times in this survey already. It's so deeply ingrained into my vocabulary. Are there any words on your shirt? No; it's just a plain gray tank top. Why do you forward forwards? I never do because they annoy the fuck out of me. How many people are you interested in at the moment? Just one in a healthy and logical way. I can't be truly interested in Jason because like come on I haven't spoken to him in four whole years. My PTSD just ensures I never forget the memory of who he was, who probably no longer even exists. I mean, look how much I'VE changed in four years. Do you know any mechanical stuff about cars? Nnnnope. Who was the last person (apart from family) that you spent time with? What did you get up to? Apart from family, I have no idea. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them got on your nerves? Venus never does, but Roman can get on my nerves sometimes when I don't let him lay on me when I'm on the laptop in bed. He's a large cat (not overweight, just a big male cat) and blocks the screen big time unless he lies down properly, which he doesn't always do. He still tends to win when he tries to come over, but sometimes I'll block him with my arm, and this spoiled brat will actually slap it a few times before walking away lmao. Would you rather live in a house with a swimming pool or an indoor cinema? Absolutely a pool. I want one badly. Do you own a credit card? If so, do you currently owe any money on it? Could you afford to pay it off tomorrow if necessary? No. How many hours of sleep do you typically get each night? Is that enough to function or would you rather have more? Especially lately, I don't get nearly enough. Like at the time I'm answering this question, it's 4 AM, and I've been up for almost a couple hours. I struggle with falling asleep, I will ALWAYS wake up at least once in the night, and I jerk awake from nightmares regularly still. It's a big reason why I pretty much require naps. Does your house have a loft/basement? Are they functional or do you just use them for storage? We only have an attic. Do you suffer from road rage? What kind of thing tends to set you off or wind you up while driving? No. I'm way too timid of a driver to get that outwardly pissy about stupid people. I'd just judge them in silence, haha. What kind of animal did you last see in the wild? Is that a common sight where you live? Because of just how common they are, I'm going to assume this excludes birds, in which case it was probably a squirrel? Yeah, the normal brown ones are common. Do you post a lot on social media? If so, what kind of thing do you tend to post on there? Since I was fucking stupid enough to post a suicide note on Facebook (I don't want to hear a goddamn thing about "attention seeking," I genuinely wanted to say goodbye), I almost never, ever, share things about my personal life. Even before, it was rare for me to actually share what's going on with me. All I really do now is share relatable, wholesome, or funny shit I find, as well as political things I'm in firm agreement with. What are some habits you have in common with your parents? I pace like my dad, and it drives people crazy because it apparently makes them anxious? I can't think of an obvious one I have with Mom, but I'm sure one exists. Where's your favourite place to swim - the ocean, a pool, river, lake etc? I feel safest and most clean in a pool, but c'mon, swimming in the ocean is so much fun. When you're saving your place in a book, do you use a bookmark or fold your pages down? Or something else? It depends on the book, it seems. Especially if someone else owns it, like in school or something. Is any part of your body hurting at the moment? Is there a specific incident that caused the pain? My legs always hurt. I've shared enough as to why; it wasn't an actual, singular "incident." What was the last thing to make you laugh out loud? OH MY FUCKING GOD. So in group therapy the other day, one of the girls had her bearded dragon out, and he was being aggressive. I think he tried to bite her aND SHE SAID WITHOUT REALIZING HER MIC WAS ON, "fucking dickhead," and everyone d i e d. She's a really cool chick, I'll miss her when I'm finished with PHP. Who was the last person you heard sing? Myself, surprisingly enough. I barely ever sing. Do you bite your lips a lot? Yes, especially when they're dry. .-. What part of your body would you never get pierced? Anyone who gets a piercing "down there" has a greater pain tolerance than this bitch right here. Have you ever dated someone with tattoos? Juan had quite a few. I don't remember if Tyler did... but I think maybe a The Legend of Zelda-related one? Have you ever failed gym in school? No. Are you scared of dogs? No; I love dogs. What is the saddest movie you’ve ever seen? Man, idk, I'm a little bitch when it comes to emotional movies. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is high up there, as is of course Johnny Got His Gun. Old Yeller, too. Which one of your friends is most likely to be famous one day? Why? Sara's gonna write a fuckin book series ok you can't convince me otherwise. What is the worst present you have ever gotten? Damn dude, what an ungrateful question. I'm just appreciative someone even thought TO give me something. Do you shave your arms? My armpits, yes, but not my arms themselves. How many people have you dated? I only count three as even remotely serious: Jason, Sara, and Girt. Have you ever performed in a play? I remember back in Sunday school as a tiny kid I played Mother Mary in one we did in class. Do you chew gum? I have been more lately since my doc upped the dosage of one of my mood stabilizers (which I think is actually helping); I mention that because apparently a side effect is dry mouth, and it's the fucking Sahara in there. He advises those who deal with it to always carry around hard candy or something like that for the sake of forcing salivation, so gum works for me. How old were you when you first started dating? I was in the 7th grade when I had my first "boyfriend," but it was total puppydog love. I started dating my first "real" bf when I was just shy of 16. Are/were your parents strict? Dad, no. Mom, only to a degree that I feel was pretty reasonable. She only ever wanted to prepare us to be functional, independent adults. Didn't work so well on me though, ha... Do you wear glasses? Yes. God, I need new ones. I'm blind as hell. What do you miss most about your childhood? Being so outgoing and happy to just be weird lil me. Do you write “To-Do” lists? Not really, no, but I do have notes on my phone about a couple things, like a bulleted list of planned monetary investments by importance, as well as a list of drawing ideas. Do you have a favorite quote? What is it? I don't, really. There's loads I like, but no one favorite. Could you survive as a vegetarian? I pretty desperately want to, but I don't know if it's realistic. I am so, SO picky, and without meat, it's very questionable as to where I'd get an adequate source of protein. I still want to try again though once I'm at my goal weight. Has anyone ever asked you for your autograph? Lol no. Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Yeah, but that was a looong time ago when I was actually some semblance of pretty. Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? I used to be someone who firmly stood by nighttime showers, but now I'm all about them in the morning. It's a nice way to wake up and start the day with productivity. Could you handle living with a male roommate? I mean, I lived with my then-boyfriend once, but I'm going to assume you'd consider him more than a "roommate." We lived with our two other friends, though, also a couple, and I was totally fine with living with them. Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yes. Do you like Freddy Krueger? His concept is very scary, but all the movies I've seen bits of have always been super cheesy. Which do you prefer, Naruto or One Piece? I haven't seen either and really aren't interested. What do you think of Rob Zombie? I've never really watched his movies, but I'm a fan of his music. What’s you fetish? I don't have one. Have you ever been in the “friend zone?" Well, what I'd call a "fake" one with Jason after the breakup until I was blocked on Facebook. I know now he absolutely did not want to be friends; he was trying to appease me. Is the area you live in more liberal or conservative? Definitely conservative. Do you know anyone who had to have tubes put in their ears as a baby? Yeah, me. Were either of your parents baptized? I'm certain Mom was, but idk about Dad. I think so. The last concert that you were at, was there a mosh pit? No. What was the last computer game that you played? World of Warcraft. Does your bathroom have a theme to it? No. Are any rooms in your house themed? No. What was the last thing that you recorded? I think Mom and I singing "happy birthday" to my late dog Teddy; we knew it would be his last. Do you like the show Futurama? Not really. Have you ever been in a choir class? I was in the elementary school chorus, as well as the choir at my childhood church. Are you ashamed of any of your family members? No, only myself. Were you a chubby child? No. Did you ever have senior photos done? No, even though I wanted them. Who is the person you dislike the most? God, this is so petty... but it's the girl Jason dated after me. I know it's childish as hell to feel like she "took" him from me, and I just feel this horrible hatred towards her that is entirely uncalled for. I just can't get myself to move past it. Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? No, as I'm unemployed and also don't have disability, so I literally can't. How do you usually celebrate New Years? I really don't do much. Sometimes Mom will grab a pack of daiquiris, but that's pretty much the extent of it. Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? N/A What was the last job interview you went to? At a local grocery store to work in the deli. Got the job, lasted there for not even two hours. :^) Do you know anyone with autism, mood disorders or learning disabilities? Autism and mood disorders, yes. I myself may have high-functioning Asperger's (yes, I know that term doesn't technically exist anymore, it's just the umbrella term of "autism," but w/e). Have you ever had an immediate relative pass away of cancer? My grandmother died of pancreatic cancer, and it's pretty much guaranteed that, unless there's some sudden accident, my mom will die of cancer, too. Hers got too bad to entirely eliminate every trace of cancer cells, so it will inevitably re-emerge at some point, just obviously some place else given that she had a total hysterectomy. Would you rather work in an office, warehouse or on a retail shop floor? Office. Are you a fan of sweet, sour, salty, or savory snacks? I enjoy all of those, but sour I think tops the list.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''mutter'' by rammstein

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ingravinoveritas · 4 years ago

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I noticed a lot of people ship David and Michael. They started shipping them just because they saw Michael staring at David's lips. Let me tell you this: Michael always looks at people's lips when they talk, sometimes with a smile or dreamy expression on his face. Is he in love with all those people? No. It might be just a habit. I also think they just tease the fandoms with their flirty comments. They both love attention. They know the fans will go crazy about it and they're enjoying it.

Oh, Anon. Well, there are a few points here that I agree with you on, but as for the rest...

But let’s start with the points I agree with, Anon, so we can have a good, civil discussion here. I’ve said this before, and I will readily reiterate that I am fully aware that Michael and David do enjoy teasing the fandom. I had someone come at me over this on another social media platform the other day, so let me be 500% crystal clear: I know that there is a PR machine at work. I know many of us are reacting to the workings of said machine. Obviously, Michael and David had to have some sort of script for answering the same questions over and over again on the GO press tour. And of course Michael and David love attention. They’re actors. Hell, I’d be calling the paramedics or a priest or the ghost of Sigmund Freud if Michael and David didn’t enjoy getting their egos stroked on occasion. HOW-FUCKING-EVER.

This is where we part ways, Anon. I can only speak for myself here, but the Michael-staring-at-David’s-lips thing is a mere fraction of the reason I started shipping them. It is a tiny slice of the delicious Shennant pie, which is comprised of many lovely flavors and textures. One of which is that Michael consistently talks about and looks at David like he hung the moon and sun--this sort of singular, permanent starry-eyed expression that lives on Michael’s face whenever they are near each other, and I swear every time he does it, I start hearing “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from the freaking Lion King. (In this analogy, Michael is Nala and David is Simba. I’m just saying.)

Another is the leaning. Michael orienting not just his eyes, but his entire body to be facing David. There are plenty of interviews where Michael does indeed look at people’s lips when they are talking, Anon, but there is an entire galaxy of difference between Michael concentrating on what someone is saying versus every molecule in his body rearranging itself in David’s direction. A few examples (of the many that are out there):

The entire concept of personal space: Exists

Michael Sheen:

ALSO. You are quite correct that Michael has looked at other people with a dreamy expression on his face...but do you know who those people were, Anon? His significant others. People with whom he was in a long-term committed relationship. People he cares/cared about on a deep, personal level. But the great thing about Michael Sheen, the Welsh Seduction Machine™ (no, that’s not officially trademarked yet, but by God, I might as well do it) is that he wears his heart on his sleeve. He makes his feelings very, very plain and obvious, and that is why the aforementioned PR machine and fan teasing only explains so much.

Because what is worth noting is that Michael and David (especially Michael, who just cannot help himself) have made these comments and quips when they’re completely on their own. Michael calling David his “lover” last year. Michael THIS year calling David’s hips “slinky” and saying that he “took him home from the set of Good Omens.” David saying “Maybe I should’ve married Michael Sheen” last year. David THIS year calling Michael’s beard “cuddly” and talking about “occasionally filling a Michael Sheen-shaped hole.” And what brings me unending joy is that even now, long after the GO press tour has ended, David still speaks so fondly of Michael, and Michael’s face still lights up when he talks about David and how much he admires him--as an actor and as a human being.

Is that love? Or is that merely a bid for attention? Maybe a little of column A, a little of column B, Anon. But I ship Michael and David because there is no easy answer to that question. I ship them because their relationship isn’t just about looks or leaning or flirty comments...it’s about what they mean to each other. I ship Michael and David because their energy is so incredibly positive--warm and happy, sexy and sweet--and we damn well need all the positive things in the world we can get right now.

Anyway, that’s my two shiny pennies on the matter. I admit I was slightly miffed by your query at first, Anon, but I’m glad I got to write all this out. I hope it helped to open your eyes a bit.

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #good omens #good omens rpf #you all know what i mean too re: Lion King #that *look* Nala gives when they're laying in the jungle #I swear to everything unholy i have seen Michael give David that same look #top!David and bottom!Michael #i'm just saying #bottom/switch energy coming from both tbh #TL;DR: Michael and David are cheeky little instigators (especially Michael) and I regret nothing #love these idiots #amazing #discourse

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