#i've had this idea for years

[kradeiz]

Meet the Parents: Manson Edition

There were surprises on both sides.

Made by the amazing @hoodedjelly, commissioned by me.

[illeaadante]

Headcanon: the 'Dragon Pulse' in FMA:B is the movement of groundwater.

lbr, the only reason Ed/Al let the 'dragon pulse' explanation fly was because they had other shit to worry about at the time. you know Ed would be all over that shit any other time.

If Edward "I met god and came out of that an atheist" Elric heard about the mystic sounding dragon's pulse, he would crack open the whole crust of the earth to get to the bottom of that shit.

I think it's groundwater movement bc:

A) groundwater is, by necessity, closer to the surface of the earth than the tectonic plates where alchemists get their energy from, which means it would be faster to draw on and also could bypass the philosopher stone layer under amestris. (you know those stones needed to be buried deep so that no one could just... accidentally dig up a Philospher's Stone.)

B) I don't remember if it's explicitly stated in the show, but decently popular fanon has alkahestry as having a basis in healing and the body, and sense of self. Groundwater movement is way less rigid and would also symbolically link well with healing and life.

C) Mei can do alkahestry at a distance so long as something she has used, something she sees as an extension of herself, is at the point and both she and that point are connected to the ground in some way. What if that extension of self actually comes from the fact that, if you carry something for long enough, you'll sweat on it or bleed on it, and you can sense the remnants of that through the alkahestry.

C.1) the idea that all you need is a vague connection and a bodily fluid to do alkahestry at a distance opens up all sorts of fun avenues tbh. Using blood or spit probably doesn't work well unless you're setting traps on non-porous material. Trap won't work if the snare got absorbed by the nearby trees... although... could you water a plant using your blood for long enough that the tree could be used as an alkahestric target/anchor/whatever they call it? (I can just imagine Ed learning alkahestry just so he can spit in somone's face, quick clap, and break their nose without touching them. That would be sick as hell.)

It would also make sense if alkahestry and qi sense in FMA is based on water. Humans = mostly water, so if qi sense is just a sense a person can develop to see how the water (plus the hormones and reactions that make up emotional responses) move throughout another person then it would go well with alkahestry and the dragon pulse also being water based. (This is also why all of the homunculi are strange to qi sense, even Bradley, bc he was human who became homunculus ,while the others don't really have blood or normal bodily functions/systems.)

Plus, it's called the Dragon's 'pulse' which implies liquid. If the dragon is the earth, then it's pulse would be groundwater, or really just water, movement. (... if it's just water, imagine the damage a Pirate alkahestrist could do.)

[lonelywretchjervistetch]

Indulge me a moment, so I can finally get this in writing somewhere. Call it a writing prompt or creative exercise if you will/must.

It's been 23 years since Arnold Perlstein stepped foot here. It's honestly surreal. The floorboards of the school hallways creak a bit more than he remembers. And things look far smaller, as they would when you've last experienced a place when you were nearly 2 feet shorter. But some things remained the same. The smell, for instance. That odd mixture of old books and a summer coat of paint, with the occasional waft of perfume or...wood chips? Alright, maybe not everything was the same as when he was a kid, but Arnold would have to parse that mystery out later. He had a classroom to find.

Arnold had been surprised when he was offered the job at Walkerville. The school had expanded its class number since he was a kid, and was now a K-8 school. But Arnold was offered the 5th grade slot, when the kids started going to different teachers for their subjects. Whenever Arnold was asked by he wanted to become a science teacher, his answer always took him back here, to 4th grade. His classes were extremely engaging, fun...and for some reason caused him high amounts of anxiety occasionally. Still, he looked back on them fondly, especially the field trips. Although, he could never remember them in full detail for whatever reason. He usually chalked that up to childhood amnesia, though.

Arnold found his room, a newly built science lab and classroom where he would guide his students for the year through discovery! Exciting. As he opened the door, the smell of wood chips once again hit him. The source became immediately clear, as in the corner of the room near his desk, there was an enclosure containing...nothing. But the spread of wood chips on the floor leading from the case was immediately of concern. Quickly, Arnold shut the door behind him to prevent anything from escaping, and began searching the room.

The woodchip trail led from the cage to the desk, when some of the drawers appeared to be opened. Did this creature have opposable thumbs? Arnold's concern rose, as he distractedly passed by the colorfully wrapped package sitting on his chair. He followed the wood chips to a drawer labeled "Don's Delights", which was conspicuously empty, save for some spare wood chips scattered within. Who was Don? And why were his "delights" in this room? Distressing. Arnold continued his search, until coming upon a series of blocks, toys, and other items, stacked in decreasing size and leading up to a window. And there, at the top of the stack and hanging off the window handle, was a small brown rodent with a long tail and light brown stripes.

Arnold thought for a moment that this was a chinchilla, but the color was wrong, and it was way too small for that. The two looked at each other, frozen in an awkward moment. Arnold looked back at the aquarium in the corner, and caught the nametag "Don the Degu", along with a small display about this animal. But as he looked back, Don had jumped off the stack, and was running for it! Arnold had never been the most fit person in the world, but he managed to catch up to Don before he could squeeze beneath the supply closet door.

As Don stared at Arnold with big, wet brown eyes, knowing he was going back in the aquarium, Arnold looked back at him with a bit of pity. After all, who knows how long he'd been in the enclosure without food or water? "If I let you go, and give you some snacks, do you promise not to run away?" Arnold wasn't quite sure why he was talking to this animal in plain English, as if expecting to be understood. But he was even less sure of his grasp on the situation when the degu nodded at him in response. Weird, but...OK, Arnold thought, as he released his grip on the degu. Don climbed onto Arnold's shoulder and began grooming himself, then cast a glance that was clearly looking for Arnold to hold his end of the promise.

Arnold searched for the snacks in Don's Delights drawer, but couldn't find them. In response, Don hopped off of Arnold's shoulder, and led him to the desk. Arnold followed and opened a drawer that this...surprisingly intelligent rodent was pointing to, and found a bag labeled "Cheesy Treats", which Don dove for immediately. Tired from the events that has already taken place, Arnold sat in his teacher's chair for the first time, and finally saw the present sitting on his desk.

The box was wrapped in possibly the most wimsical and colorful wrapping paper Arnold had ever seen...yet somehow extremely familiar. It was decorated in stars, planets, asteroids and comets, various trappings of space. He wrote it off at first as a Dollar Store wrapping paper...until he picked it up. The planets were actually remarkably accurate, with Jupiter's Great Red Spot immediately drawing Arnold's focus. If he stared closely enough at it...it almost seemed to move and swirl around. But Arnold shook it off, relegating it to his imagination.

He cast his eyes towards the tag on the paper, which said only two words on it: "Take chances." Not like he hadn't done that already with this job. Again, Arnold hadn't applied for it, it was offered to him on great recommendation. But he wasn't even sure whom that recommendation was from. In previous schools, he'd been a little too ambitious with his curricula, using sometimes flashy demonstrations and high-budget experiments to get his students to learn and remember his lessons. This is what he remembered as a student himself, and large efforts on the part of his teachers got him to love science in the first place! But, that never made him the most popular teacher amongst administration. So, taking a recommendation from his old school on face value was a chance in and of itself. Still, Arnold noted it, and opened the small present.

Engraved on the box within the wrapping was yet another message: "Make mistakes." Again, not a concept Arnold was foreign to in his life. Not that he was a complete screw-up or anything, but he'd certainly changed his career prospects enough times to know about mistakes. His parents had wanted him to be something reliable, like an accountant. His cousin Janet was a big-shot lawyer in New York (which his aunt just loooooved to mention at any given opportunity). And he'd tried those things, amongst others. College was supposed to be a place to find yourself. Well, he did. A LOT. And all those versions of himself were...not him. Until coming upon science education, where he felt something click. The idea of spreading knowledge of the world around us and beyond, to change the world through changing forming minds...that was appealing to Arnold. After all, science was about making mistakes and learning from them. That was basically Arnold's whole adult life up to this point.

With his introspection done (and with Don having eaten an entire bag of treats, which probably wasn't great for him), Arnold opened the box. Inside was a tie, covered in stars and planets like the wrapping paper, and made of some very nice material. Perhaps most surprising of all to Arnold was how cold it was to the touch. The room was a normal temperature, but the box and the tie felt refrigerated. As he unfurled this gift, another produced itself: a key with a key fob. Arnold tried it on the desk, the supply closet, and any other keyhole he could find, to no avail. And when he pressed the fob, he couldn't hear or see anything change. But last of all was the message on the inside of the box: "Get messy." To which Arnold took this as a reminder to clean up the mess that Don had made. And so, distracting himself from the mysterious key, Arnold set to work cleaning the room and getting familiar with all of its features. School started in a few weeks, after all.

By the time Arnold was done with cleaning and inventory, and with convincing Don that he'd be back tomorrow, it had turned dark outside. Tired, he made his way to the parking lot, where he would get in his beat-up car and head home and watch something on Netflix. Maybe a documentary or that one TV series about the drug lord he'd been meaning to start. He reached into his pocket blindly and pressed the fob to unlock his car. But in the process, he heard a far-off horn honk, rather than the car right in front of him. Taking the key out of his pocket, he revealed his mysterious gift.

Arnold followed the sound of the horn to the back of the school lot. A stand of trees lined the entire parking lot, but Arnold followed the asphalt to find a pathway leading through it. But it was dark now, and possibly dangerous on its own, not to mention the idea of following a mysterious horn caused by a key given by someone you don't even know...Take chances, Arnold thought. Foolishly, he entered into the wood. It was louder than he thought it would be. Crickets and frogs peppered the night with their sounds, getting the last cries out before summer ended. Fireflies, too, danced around the wood, creating a beautiful-if-eerie atmosphere. And then...he saw it.

An old, yellow, rusted and broken down school bus. A school bus. Somebody had given him the key to a rusted-out school bus. But despite the absurdity of giving a teacher command of their own bus, nevertheless one that'd been retired in, like, 1997, Arnold was drawn to it for some reason. Why had he been given this key? Whose bus was this? And how could this broken-down junk heap respond to a modern key fob? He walked up to the bus, and the doors swung open for him. Knowing better than this...Arnold entered the bus anyway.

The inside of the bus appeared as broken down as the outside. This bus wasn't safe or operational by any standard, then or now. Still, it reminded Arnold of childhood, and he sat down in the seat. There, on the dashboard, his eye was drawn to another surprisingly modern flourish, a keyless start button. This was...impossible. And yet, Arnold surprisingly couldn't help himself. He pressed the button, to see if the old junk heap would start. But rather than the engine starting up...a message flashed on the dashboard in front of him. HANDS ON THE WHEEL, AND SEAT BELT ON, PLEASE! Enraptured by the insanity of this situation, Arnold put on his seatbelt, and put hands 10 and 2 on the steering wheel.

And that's when he remembered it. He remembered all of it.

Memories of field trips came flooding back to him. Impossible, whimsical, magical, TERRIFYING field trips re-entered his mind. Underwater volcanoes, flying through the clouds, traveling back in time, going to space...dying in space? So many beautiful and horrible things that he could now remember, enough to traumatize a child forever, and yet...all Arnold had now was true understanding. His love for science, his will to teach, all of it...his inspiration was these trips, which had somehow been altered by his mind into good and engaging teaching, instead of what it actually was: magic.

Realizing everything he'd forgotten, Arnold looked around at the bus: it was the same as it was when he was a kid, now. As if brand new, with a fresh bus smell, right out of the factory. With his memory restored, he quickly realized who gave him the key. "Ms. Frizzle.", he said out loud. And he was quickly met by a voice in return. "HelLO, Arnold! So very good to see you again!" Startled, Arnold looked up at the windshield, and the face of his old 4th grade teacher, Ms. Valerie Felicity Frizzle, appeared projected upon it. Arnold yelped and jumped in his seat in surprise, to which Ms. Frizzle chuckled a bit.

"Ms. Frizzle! What...how...why...what's happening? Am I going crazy? Is this...was this all real?"

"It was, Arnold. All of it! Every fantastic journey into the unknown, into discovery! All real. And all wonderful. And now that I'm retired, well...it's yours to discover now."

Arnold hadn't immediately noticed it, but Ms. Frizzle was obviously older. Her once frizzled orange hair was now a frazzled white, and prominent crows' nests and smile lines told the story of a life full of joy and excitement. After all, it'd been 23 years. And as Arnold's head was spinning from these thoughts and recovered memories, another quickly came to him. "...You sent the recommendation for me to work here? For ME? To get all of THIS? I used to be terrified of these trips! Why on EARTH would I be your choice for this?"

"Because I saw something special in all my students, Arnold, and I've kept track of you through the years! Through social media, not magic. Still, with every path and choice you've made, you've proved yourself to me to be the right person for the job. You've taken chances, you've made mistakes, and you've learned from them! Now, you can use those lessons to impart on others."

Arnold grew quiet. That had been his whole reason for teaching: to help the future generations learn about the world and themselves. "I'm not...agreeing to this yet. After all, like I said, those trips were terrifying. But...how does this whole magic bus thing work, exactly?" Ms. Frizzle smiles that old mischievous smile that Arnold remembered (and also remembered dreading).

It was time for another field trip.

[steveshcrringtons]

Introducing (finally): Fiona Greyjoy in Game of Thrones

From a young age, Fiona Greyjoy had been betrothed to Robb Stark as a gesture of good will to Lord Eddard Stark that her father, Balon Greyjoy would not rebel against the Iron Throne again. Her brother, Theon, was also taken as a ward by Ned Stark as well. 

As she grew older, Fiona grew to look at the Stark family as her own. She was eternally grateful for the life with them she had been granted. Her loyalty was undoubtedly devoted to the Starks of Winterfell. 

However, no matter how hard she tried, her heart’s loyalty was split. She wanted so badly to love Robb. Her brother’s constant jabs growing up about how she was in Winterfell to marry Robb never helped. Though, despite Theon’s reminders, and Robb being the perfect gentleman, Fiona’s heart belonged completely to Jon Snow.  

tagging: @eddiemunscns @samwilsonns @foxesandmagic @camiemendess @sgtbuckyybarnes @ocappreciation

[manny-jacinto]

Bend It Like Beckham (2003)

[hayden-christensen]

STAR WARS WEEK 2024 DAY 3: I'LL TRY SPIN-OFFS! - FAVOURITE NON SKYWALKER SAGA MEDIA ▸ OBI-WAN KENOBI (2022) + trivia [insp]

The series features the return of Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen to Star Wars after 17 years. Jimmy Smits, Joel Edgerton, Bonnie Piesse, Temuera Morrison, Ian McDiarmid, Anthony Daniels, Liam Neeson and James Earl Jones also reprise their roles from the prequels. It is the most-watched Disney Plus original series premiere globally to date, based on hours streamed in an opening weekend and was nominated for five Emmy Awards, including Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series.

[sadmages]

In my mind palace my tav and Astarion are playing the exact same game of 5D chess and they don't realize it yet

[causeimanartist]

Typical Justice League meeting

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[itsajollyjester]

Family Portrait

The only family he has.

[orengejoshi]

Villainous ideal ending: Flug rejects everyone and dips with his hatship Super Mario Odyssey style

[wordswrittenbynight]

Finally sitting down and working on some planning stuff for an old novel idea I had. It's called Nine.

It's a deadly game/battle royale story that takes place in a dystopian society, think like a Hunger Games/Future Diary mashup.

[littlegayteaboy]

how similar zuko and ozai look from side profile got me thinking:

i mean they have the same straight forehead, same brow, and the long and sharp nose. having a familial resemblance to the person you hate most in the world is real and it sucks. i imagine this bothers zuko for a long time, bc every time he looks in the mirror he's reminded of ozai.

until one day he gets socked in the face by an assassin and breaks his nose. ever since then he has a nose bump and he's very happy with it

[welcometogrouchland]

ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)

[yawnderu]

CW: mentions of kidnapping and stolen body autonomy.

Find a way in, kill the enemy, retrieve the hostages, leave. A routine of sorts that gave his life some sense of purpose to avoid going insane for the past two decades. Simon liked to believe he got over what happened in his past... truly, he did; and yet Manuel Roba’s horrors seem to haunt him no matter where how many years pass.

“C’mere.” Simon’s voice held no hostility, he made sure of it, yet your stiff position never changed. Legs angled to the right, hands folded on your lap, and eyes looking forward, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze even if it’s been hours since your rescue. Garrick, Price and Johnny have already tried to get you to talk multiple times, all of them with different approaches. 

Garrick was friendly, trying his best to seem approachable, a bright smile on his lips that you didn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at a wall no matter how much he tried to hold a conversation.

Price seemed fatherly, never once laying a hand on you even if it was itching to comfort you, and so he settled with telling you you’re safe now, how no one will ever get you again now that they're here. His words didn’t seem to do much, either. 

Johnny was… something else. His first attempt was a shitty pick up line, getting a reaction out of you for the first time— a nose scrunched up in disgust, but a reaction nonetheless.  

And Simon… Simon’s approach was different. The man was used to barking out orders and obeying them himself, not to deal with an unresponsive hostage. His behemoth frame was nestled next to you, putting a tray on the table and observing your reactions. From the way you swallowed thickly the moment the meal was presented to you, to the sound of your stomach growling. 

“Go on, then.” Your gaze follows his movements for the first time, the feeling of your stomach rumbling makes you more aware of your hunger, so many years being fed nothing but what was necessary to keep you alive by Manuel and his associates, so many years of being trained like a dog to obey to their very order. 

Simon can see the hesitation in your body language, too tense to allow yourself to dig in the way you wanted, yet no longer as stiff as before. There was a sense of relief at the fact that they didn’t seem to want to hurt you —unlike Roba—, yet years of non-stop brutal training can’t be erased within hours.

Roba’s training was engraved into your brain, and while the sense of security the SAS blokes gave you is something you’re thankful for, nothing guarantees they’re not working for him. You’ve seen other military men come and go throughout the years, always Roba’s friends, and always sharing the same disgusting, sadistic desires.

“Eat up.” The rest of the men watch the way you move, curiosity and amusement mixing at how strange your movements seem, almost robotic. Your forearms rest on the table, elbows away from the cheap wood as you attempt to hold your own cutlery— attempt, because it looks fully foreign to you, trying out different angles to make it work, and yet it's the first time in years you've been allowed to try and feed yourself.

Simon is the first one to catch on, having lived under Roba’s rules for long enough to know he enjoys taking people’s autonomy, to reduce them to nothing but a pathetic mess that depends on him. His gloved fingers are gentle as he takes the spoon from your hand, scooping up some food before holding it up to your lips. His full attention is on you, relief starting to make its way into his body as sees your rather soft lips wrap around the spoon, eating whatever he was feeding you. Lucky for you, this time it wasn’t an MRE… or beans on toast.

His gloved thumb wipes the corners of your lips every time you’re done chewing, and he’s quick to pick up more food from the plate, nothing but patience and kindness shown in his actions, so unlike the brooding soldier he's known to be.

“... two goldfish are in a tank…?” Johnny’s loud groan gets your attention for a second, yet you quickly glance back at Simon, curious eyes looking up at him, almost as if asking him to go on. 

“One turns to the other and says… ‘you know how to drive this thing?’” You can see the corners of his eyes crinkle before he even finishes his joke, clearly trying his best not to laugh at just how awful it was. A small smile hides in the corners of your lips, and Simon takes that as a victory, ignoring the questioning looks he’s getting from his team, for now.

[celerydays]

Princess and the Frog Turtle AU 🐢👑