#Thanks Chel!!

[fesenmoon]

ko-fi request of falin for @rozecrest! two pigeons…

[chellustrates]

i enjoyed this film haha couldn't pass up doodling them

[pernillecfcw]

Thank you for everything you have given this club Conor , you achieved your dream of playing for you’re Boyhood club and wishing you wasn’t leaving ❤️‍🩹 you truly deserved so much better from this club , I am wishing you all the best at atlético . As we always say once a blue always a blue 💙

[tizzymcwizzy]

oh btw for everyone interested in my Hades journey, i got to the epilogue! and have almost maxed out every relationship!! we are near completion :D

oh and i also bought Hades 2 yesterday and have since put like 10 hours into it....

[clingonlikeclingwrap]

Characters from this original work by @kolbietheaggrievedwriter

I read it and sprinted to procreate for these character studies I think I cried a little looking at the picrews they’re so pretty hhh

[junespriince]

CAN U CAN UUUU u said ocs so like would u maybe draw chel as a snail i can send u refs if u need thwm but like PLEASSEE!??? 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺❗️❗️❗️❗️🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱 <- (WORMS FOR OFFERING)

chel got snailed, feat his dads and batfam giving him worms bec that will never not not be funny to me lol so silly

[firesofdainix]

Jupiter x Sun is the most toxic yaoi ship of them all

[slugandthorn]

Thank you Twitter user aprilquestnmark for sharing this from crazy.dragon.lady 's Tiktok.

[rinnysega]

Screaming crying throwing up this beautiful Christmas morning 😭😭😭

Thank you @sketchnwhatevr for this gift of Bruno and Gustavo! It’s been a joy meeting you this year and getting to know you more through mod work for the Encanto Big Bang ❤️ I’m looking forward to more adventures and memories with you in the new year!!

Now excuse me I have a case of the zoomies now 😭❤️ This is way better than a PlayStation!

[ravangie]

hello

an anon appears in your inbox

-sits down,drinks tea from the spout-

what is your opinion on Chel?

Hello, anon!

Interesting question, but why would you ask for my opinion, when you can hear the opinions of those who have actually met Chel:

[brigittttoo]

thanks @elwenyere and @galateagalvanized for the fun idea, from the randomizer: https://perchance.org/aif690dk10

Cody follows him into the flat and shucks his coat, the sound of the material sliding over his dance jacket seeming louder in the dark, late night. He feels sweaty and bone-tired and doesn't want to start talking; he knows Obi-Wan well enough to not expect the conversation to begin from his end, so they both stay silent and end up in the kitchen. Cody remembers this room from years ago, and not much has changed. The tea towels are still draped over the oven door handle, the souvenir magnets are still stuck to the fridge and holding up receipts, the linoleum is still chipped on the one tile in front of the sink.

Obi-Wan starts the kettle and automatically takes a second mug down from the cabinet. "Coffee, please," Cody says, voice coming out hoarser than he expected. He clears his throat and leans his hip against the counter.

"You moved well, tonight," Obi-Wan says, not looking up from his drawer of instant sachets. Cody raises his eyebrows and lets the silence pull more words out. Obi-Wan glances up briefly, the grey in his hair and beard shining in the overhead light. "I've always liked the tango, but I know it's not exactly your preferred style."

Cody lets his eyes close for a slow second. He had moved well tonight, both of them had, feet and arms and hips working together like they'd never spent any time apart. He'd felt it in his muscle memory, the way Obi-Wan's hand slid in and away from his own, their shoes trailing across the floor in sinuous arcs. There'd been the usual tension, dark and flowing, lowered eyes and quiet, steady breaths held between them-- and then there'd been the fact they'd been in public, no longer dancing in the empty out-of-hours practice rooms with the blinds drawn tightly shut, but together in front of an audience, professional spotlights and sound systems and flowers held in the crooks of their arms afterwards, his heart bouncing around in his chest. Matching black trousers and polished shoes.

"I do still like the waltz better," Cody says. When he opens his eyes Obi-Wan is staring at him in that way he did five years ago, the mugs and instant coffee abandoned but his hand still clutching the edge of the counter.

"Here," Obi-Wan says, barely a sound, and Cody's hands come up automatically to hold the ones coming towards him. He steps back with his left accidentally, still too used to leading, but then they're doing a slow box step in Obi-Wan's dim little kitchen, and Obi-Wan's hand is clutching his back. "I'm sorry," he says to Cody's shoulder, head tilted down but cheek still brushing Cody's ear. "I should never have left you."

"I was the one that moved away," Cody argues, but then Obi-Wan is leading him out into a spin and he goes with the movement, pulling back in and meeting Obi-Wan's eye. "It was never your fault."

They fall silent again and Cody can't help his eyes from closing, leaning his head on Obi-Wan's. He wishes they could have those five years back so he could fill them with more of this, more dancing and less worrying. "Do you want to get back into it?" he asks quietly, and Obi-Wan hums.

"The world is changing," he says, placing an idle kiss on Cody's cheek, high up by his eye.

Cody jolts like he's blinking awake. "Do you want to get back into it--with me?"

Obi-Wan attempts to push them out into another spin but Cody grabs his shoulder and doesn't let him avoid the question. "Competition?" Obi-Wan asks after a second of wide-eyed staring. Cody smooths his hand further back into proper position until they're chest to chest. Obi-Wan's eyes flick down once to Cody's lips.

"And more," Cody agrees, and when Obi-Wan leads into the next step and presses forward in a kiss, Cody follows.

____

tagging @lttrsfrmlnrrgby and @andthepeople to try their hands :)

[galateagalvanized]

2 is my lucky number!

#2 - Aphelion, by Sleeping at Last

Loving Obi-Wan was supposed to be safe.

Not easy—though it was that too, sometimes, and terribly so—but safe.

Cody takes a breath like sharpening a blade, like racking a round, and tries to focus on the intel report that he's run his eyes over three times already. His brain stutters over the words. It keeps catching on grief.

“Sir?” Boil asks, parting the tent flap with a gauntleted hand and a single second of hesitation. Cody checks his chrono. It’s been exactly an hour since Waxer came by; Cody would admire the consistency of their check-ins if each interruption weren’t a reminder.

“Come in, Lieutenant,” Cody says, sighing, looking up. He doesn’t know what they expect to find each time they peer in. He doesn’t know what they want him to say, to do.

“Forward scouts have found two additional Separatist camps north of Shyrikaw,” Boil says. A week ago, that would’ve been a comm message. A week ago, it would have been an alert accompanying an automatic update of their battle map.

A week ago, Obi-Wan would have mentioned it to him in passing, their heads huddled over the holoprojection, their fingers trailing possible paths through the blue mountains of Kashyyyk.

Now, Cody nods. This is an answer easy enough to give. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Boil hesitates again, waiting. The song of cicadas rises to a crescendo, then fades, then rises again.

“If you need to take some time,” Boil says, “Wax and I can—”

“I don’t need time,” Cody snaps, then breathes, then calms. “We lose people every day. We lose people on my orders every single day. I can’t stop to grieve them. Why should this be different?”

Boil looks at him, uncertain, wary. Kashyyyk’s atmosphere has the approximate water content of Kamino’s oceans. Sweat beads on Cody’s forehead; he wipes it off. Dirt streaks the back of his hand, and he scrubs at his face irritably.

“Cody,” Boil starts. Stops. Cody wonders if Boil would need to take some time if Cody died, if Waxer died, if either of them were shot in the dark by a coward hiding behind a scope.

Grief claws at his throat, clogging it like the gritty Kashyyykian mud.

“Check the perimeter,” Cody chokes out, ducking his head back over the report.

A whisper of canvas, and Boil leaves.

His hands shake. His knees shake. His chest expands in pointless pursuit of oxygen that his blood can’t seem to process, and he drops the pad.

Loving his brothers was a given, written into his soul, in every whorl of his fingerprints. He loved them, all of them, but there were no promised tomorrows for clones. And, beyond that, Cody had to put those well-loved lives on the table himself, to personally up the ante of the war with their lives. 

It required a distance. No need to make it any harder to be the one who survives, he had thought, but—

He never thought he’d survive Obi-Wan. 

Wetness gathers on his lashes, threatening to spill into the tracks carved by his sweat. Loving Obi-Wan was supposed to be safe, simple. He could never have Obi-Wan, and he could never lose him. Always perfectly just out of arm’s reach. And the love Cody couldn’t afford to spend on the brothers he would lose, he spent there.

And lost there anyways.

The sour summer heat soaks his blacks through. They’ve lost a few datapads to the humidity, and they keep having to scoop water out of their fuel supplies. Mud has seeped into anything with more than a hairline crack. 

Misery breeds in his lungs thicker than the atmosphere, and Cody hates himself for it.

He collapses into a chair, surrendering the fight to gravity. What would Jango have said, to see Cody mourning an outsider more than he ever mourned a brother, more than he mourned Ponds, his batchmate, more than the thousands of names Cody still reads through every Remembrance Day? 

Guilt seeps through the cracks in him like mud.

Guilt, because he must have cared for this man more than his brothers. Guilt, because after two years of loss, it was not the loss of his brothers who brought him to his knees, gasping in mud that is as red and wet as love.

And he thinks that that isn’t how love should work—there should be no finite quantity of love, for which loving one person more means loving another less—but few things in his life ever work the way he thinks they should.

Cody is so awfully sorry that he does not work the way he should. 

He stands. Mud stains the sun streaks on his armor.

Beyond his tent, he hears a squelch, a throat cleared. A white and black and gold gauntlet appears in the slit between the tent flaps.

“Sir?” Crys says.

“Come in, Corporal,” Cody says, and his guilt drowns out the grief. 

Surprise! the numbers were related to my spotify top 20 hahaha. This probably isn’t a very new years eve-y story, oops! But thank you very much for the prompt 💖

[pernillecfcw]

Thank you melly 💙 wishing her all the best in the future and as we say once a blue always a blue 💙

[karinasbaby]

the boy is mine remix lyric video.. and it’s NEWSPAPER THEMED.

[mydictionary-yume]

WAIT HI I WANNA HEAR ABOUT KNIROUN LUSAKU

Rubs my little paws together. You have no IDEA how bad the kniroun lusaku brainworms are, this is prolly the most developed AU next to romijuli hehehe...

LET ME PREFACE THIS WITH THE FACT THAT I KNOW JACK SHIT ABOUT ARTHURIAN MYTH AND LEGEND. THIS IS ENTIRELY COMING OUT OF MY ASS. Okay we good? Good<3

So. Lu's character is named Gardenia, she's been working at Arthur's palace since she was pretty young, and met Mordred through having to serve him on a few occasions. When they were young, they played together when they had time, since she was one of the few people around his age he saw often. Gardenia always found him a bit stiff, but they had fun<3

When they were a bit older, and Mordred had started his swordsmanship lessons, he often taught her after he was finished, and they sparred when they could. Of course, the older he got, the less time they had to spend together, with Gardenia having to pick up more difficult tasks and remain more professional around the royal family, and Mordred working to become more of an attendant to Arthur.

THE PLOT OF KNIROUN IV HAPPENS. Mordred gets possessed, Lancelot and Gawain bring down Merlin, yadda yadda yadda, Mordred is severely injured and is going through a lot of mental strain.

Because of this, he's forced to be bedridden by Arthur's demand, and Gardenia is assigned to care for him while he's unable to attend to his duties. It's really awkward at first, since they haven't directly spoken in years by this point, but she still does her best for him.

I love the idea of Mordred thinking something like She's really gentle, I don't remember her being like this... What happened? and Gardenia something along the lines of, He was stiff, but never like this. What happened?

After a lot of resistance and refusal from Mordred, he allows Gardenia to care for him, and he ends up falling for her first. Soon, he finds himself "accidentally" bumping into her here and there, and asking to see her when she's free.

Gardenia starts to wonder what's going on, but enjoys the chance to catch up.

Eventually Mordred confesses blah blah blah yeag<333 I love the lusaku kniroun au they're everything hehe

[firesofdainix]

Ford Pines, Dipper Pines, Lilith Clawthorne, Lord Garmadon and Michikatsu Tsugikuni should be locked in a room together