#the-one-under-your-bed

[28ms28]

its been a while since i did lestappen text posts so here you go

all other parts here

[lazylittledragon]

i already know there’s a hyper specific tattoo artist/florist AU for something somewhere in my future now that i actually know what i’m talking about

[littleblueteacat]

September loves Gale, but sometimes he feels like he will never understand him.

He's also a bit worried that he insulted Tara and she won't like him now. Nothing like messing up a first impression.

[bucksdaffy]

coming out as a firm 'oliver is a bucktommy endgame truther' believer like oh the way he speaks about them in his interviews? i just know he wants them to be long-term bad and i hope all his wishes come true

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

okay here's part 3! (still no dinner scene sorry, but we're slowly getting there!) (this is a long one heads up)

the post/thread that started this whole au

dinner scene: part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

there's a masterlist now!

*back at the palace*

penelope: i wonder how it went…

penelope: *starts walking toward the entrance for the palace gardens*

penelope: *notices odysseus running through the gardens towards the very same entrance*

penelope: *was concerned until she could clearly see a joyful look on her husband’s face*

odysseus: *sees penelope and heads towards her*

penelope: *notices and opens her arms for an embrace*

odysseus: *grabs penelope by the waist and twirls her around in the air* good morning wife, did you miss me?

penelope: *holding onto odysseus’ shoulders laughing*

penelope: good morning husband *leans down to kiss odysseus*

penelope: *looks him in the eyes with a smile* more than you know.

odysseus: *smiles back with eyes full of adoration*

odysseus: *goes in for another kiss*

*a while later after many more morning kisses between the two*

*penelope & odysseus now walking arm in arm back into the palace*

penelope: so, i’m assuming by the look i saw on your face, your friend agreed to dinner?

odysseus: uh yeah, surprisingly he did. no forcing or threats needed.

penelope: *hums and holds a finger to her chin in slight thought*

odysseus: *wondering what she’s thinking of* penelope?

penelope: *giggles and looks at odysseus* maybe you’re already more friends than you thought?

odysseus: *blinks repeatedly and then shakes his head*

odysseus: my love, trust me… the god of the seas and i are not friends

odysseus: *looks down in thought* after everything that’s happened, i don’t think we could ever be

penelope: *stops walking and turns to odysseus who has also stopped walking*

penelope: *holds her hand to odysseus’ cheek* i thought you said after all these incidents on the sailing trips with our son, that you had put that behind you?

odysseus: *leans into her hand and reaches to hold it with his own*

odysseus: *sighs* i- i have. i admit that while it’s a lot of fun being able to mess with him… all that anger & resentment i held has left me.

penelope: *gives a small smile*  

penelope: how do you know that lord poseidon hasn’t too? maybe he’s learnt to forgive?

odysseus: *thinks back to the moment he held his hand out to poseidon while on his raft, asking him the same question*

odysseus: … *blinks the memory away*

odysseus: yeah… i don’t think so, i tried that once already…

odysseus: *grabs both penelope’s hands* anyway! that doesn’t matter-

odysseus: *lets go of her hands and once again links his arm with hers*  what matters is… what the cooks have planned for breakfast!

penelope: *letting the subject drop for now*

penelope: *smiles* i don’t know about breakfast… but i’m sure that after you and our son’s fishing trip, i would say fish is the plan again for lunch *laughs*

odysseus: *laughs with her* yes, we certainly brought enough back.

odysseus: though speaking of our son. just how excited do you think he’ll be when i tell him the good news?

penelope: oh, i am sure he’ll be delighted! why don’t you go wake him for breakfast and let him know?

penelope: *unlinks their arms, turns and gives odysseus another quick kiss* i shall see you soon my dear husband

odysseus: yes soon, my lovely wife *watches her go down the hall until she out of sight*

odysseus: *turns to head the way to his son’s bedroom*

*odysseus arrives at the door leading to telemachus’ room*

odysseus: *knocks on the door*

odysseus: telemachus? are you awake yet?

*after hearing no response & no noise to signal movement*

odysseus: *gently opens the door and heads inside*

odysseus: *looks across the room to the bed and sees his son still fast asleep*

odysseus: *makes his way over, while looking at the walls covered tapestries of monsters, -also seeing ones he himself has faced- all slightly starting to fray from the years they’ve been hanging there*

odysseus: *sees the newest tapestry above telemachus’ bed -one he knows that penelope and athena had weaved together- the tapestry of him, penelope & telemachus also including a owl sitting on telemachus’ shoulder*

odysseus: *smiles* *gently sits down on the edge of his son’s bed*

odysseus: *reaches his hand out to stroke telemachus’ hair, like he would do when he was just a baby*

odysseus: *in a soft voice* telemachus, son it’s time to wake up

telemachus: *makes a small groan at being woken up*

telemachus: *voice heavy with sleep* father?

odysseus: *pulls his hand back & chuckles to himself at his son’s sleepy confusion* yes, it’s me, did you sleep well?

telemachus: *now slightly more awake* yeah, i dreamt of the dolphins we saw a while ago-

telemachus: *sleepiness long gone and now slightly excited* -did you manage to speak to lord poseidon?!

odysseus: *smiling at his son’s excitement* i did indeed

telemachus: annnnnd?

odysseus: he will be at dinner tomorrow

telemachus: *leaps forward at his father and hugs him* yes! thank you for asking him!

odysseus: *hugs his son back* i promised i would didn’t i?

telemachus: *lets his father go and gets ready to get of bed* i need to start planning for tomorrow-

odysseus: *laughs and stops his son from running off* yes you can, but later. first you need to wash yourself up and get down to dining hall

telemachus: how come?

odysseus: it’s morning remember? the cooks have made us breakfast and your mother is waiting for us to join her

telemachus: oh yeah! that makes sense.

telemachus: *gets out of bed more calmly* okay well i’ll wash up quick and be there shortly

odysseus: okay i’ll see you there *watches his son leave*

odysseus: *to himself* i guess i’d better make my way there mysel-

*a small breeze hits him and then a soft hoot of an owl sounds out*

odysseus: *turns to see athena in owl form sitting on the perch by the balcony, that odysseus had made for telemachus’ room*

odysseus: *hands on hips* so how come when i was young, you had me up for training everyday before sunrise, yet my son gets to lay in?

athena: *turns back into her normal appearance* good morning to you too odysseus

odysseus: don’t change the subject ‘thena

athena: *shrugs* what can i say? times have changed

odysseus: *drops his arms and laughs*

odysseus: *looks back to the (family photo) tapestry* indeed they have

odysseus: *looks back to athena* so, breakfast?

athena: *smiles* let’s go.. my friend

odysseus: *smiles back and then heads out telemachus’ room with athena*

[sebastians-asks]

Wishing you all a very sinister Spirit’s Eve.

By the way, there’s someone under your bed.

Can you hear the breathing too?

[yomudkipo]

POV: Gunsmoke is experiencing a heat wave

[theflagscene]

They might as well have called episode 11 of Mumu-Tofu Story; the ep where they admit they’re fucking.

[subway-boss-jericho]

Emmet and Ingo's Back Office from Steady Tracks Do Not Waver!

I've been holding on to this one to post on a bad day. guess who is learning how to 3d model. This bitch. my power is unlimited ST!Ingo getting hit with the 3D beam as soon as classes let up on me

more on the way soon (relatively)

Steady Tracks Masterpost

[r-2-peepoo]

Coriolanus Snow and Anakin Skywalker are perfect examples of really interesting characters who had every chance to do the right thing but repeatedly chose wrong even though they were surrounded by good people, all because they had one person whispering in their ear and convincing them to be selfish and to hurt people instead. There is no point where they have to do what they do, it’s their choices that make them compelling.

They’re also both incredibly controlling over the women they claim to love but are quick to try and physically harm them when they realise that they’re actually human beings who will not blindly follow them. It’s very clear they were possessive, not actually in love. To sincerely love is to respect someone’s agency and neither of them were capable of that.

Another trait they both share is that, despite being layered and well written but fundamentally flawed characters who turn to evil by their own free will, if you cast an attractive actor to play them, there are always going to be people who blindly ignore the entire plot just to defend them and justify their actions. Being a victim of abuse or oppression does not excuse you from being a perpetrator.

[polarpasteque]

Correct me if I'm wrong because English isn't my native language but I've got a funny explanation for fandom meta :

When I say I'm a Starscream apologist, it means "I see him committing many crimes and still love him. Maybe I love him because he commits crimes and I support women's wrongs"

When I say I'm a Rodimus defender, it means "I see him committing crimes and deny that they're crimes in the first place. Your Honour my client pleads not guilty"

Basically imo the line between character apologist and character defender is very thin and you cross the border by going nuh-huh when someone brings up said character's flaws.

[wildsaltair]

sometimes I think I can be normal while taking screencaps of my beloved husband. I am always incorrect

BONUS BECAUSE I'M IN THE THROES OF AGONY OVER THIS STATUESQUE MAN

[ghostkingdoesstuff]

Y'all ever just think about the fact that Luke has younger siblings, and like not by a huge gap from when he was born. Can't figure out how old Chris Rodriquezs actor is (Andrew Alvarez most mysterious man on this planet, apparently, if you know do share) but like if we're assuming he's the same age as Clarrise/Dior then bros 18 at Luke's 19 meaning atleast in show cannon, maybe 17 at the time of release, but regardless ughhhh yeah Hermes moved on from May Castellan QUICK, possibly while like was like only a few months old. I'm just saying YEAH bro was busy doing God stuff and GETTING LAYED AND YOU'RE SLEEPING NEXT TO THE PROOF??? While you grew up fatherless and fending for yourself against you very mentally ill with no meds or some kinda assisted living situation mother, your dad had moved on with his life completely and had several other kids, AND NOW YOU'RE EXPECTING TO BE ROOMATES??? from Luke's pov FUCK LIN MANUEL MIRANDA!!!

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 6

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 971

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

Sylus' body is an inferno. He's well used to running hotter than most. It's just another part of who he is, that doesn't occur to him the majority of the time.

The first few times you'd shared a bed, you'd wriggled out of his grasp, sweating and uncomfortable. Had he had less control over himself, he'd have pouted. (You probably didn't miss the furrow in his brow though.)

So he'd slept wearing as little as possible.

Still too much, waking up in the middle of his sleep schedule to find you across the bed, covers thrown off to cool down. Shedding your discomfort.

Next he'd taken to pulling your clothes off. Always a delight, this time a driven aim. It had worked somewhat, you'd wrapped yourself into his embrace and tangled around him, seeking out the heat of his body like he was your personal pillow.

It lasted longer, but still he was awoken by you edging away, seeking the chill of a turned over pillow and the outside of the duvet.

He'd changed the type of bedding he used, bought you new bedding.

You'd told him to stop worrying, to stop paying expenses, sometimes it was just too warm.

Sylus was sure at that he'd grumbled like a child. He wanted to hold you, and he wanted to wake up with you in his arms.

Everytime you moved out of his reach, he itched and ached like scales growing through raw skin. It was one of the few times he envied the doctor, he never seemed to have trouble with keeping you clinging throughout your slumber.

Eventually he had two things fitted, a ceiling fan and air conditioning. The change to temperature meant so little to him, unbothered by heat or cold. When you'd seen them on your next visit, you'd been incredulous. Since when did he need either of these?

He didn't answer that he needed them for you, for him, he just made an offhand comment about the best, and preparation for the future. (The immediate future. His sleep quality.)

His relief that day when he'd woken up, your head under his chin, legs tangled with his, and arms around him. Seeking out his skin against yours.

The second you left the bed, however, you'd complained for the chill. He left the remote for the new tools of his victory, in your hands, but he had gleefully held you as long as he could, chin on shoulder and hands dancing across cool skin.

Your week off has allowed him to experience that for a few days now, he's using your sleep pattern for the week, though there is no real track of time in the sky of the N109 Zone. He doesn't want to make your return to work difficult.

As he wakes, this morning you have stayed asleep, catching up on long hours. Your back is pressed to his chest and you're holding onto his arm. He won't tease you about the drool out the corner of your mouth, but he files away the image for himself. Tickled and endeared.

He doesn't want to wake you, you're so peaceful... but he can't stop himself from pulling as close as he can. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, and breathing you in.

You smell like his last meal in every life. Like he could bite down and die happy, your blood in his mouth and your soul in his chest.

If he were a weaker man, perhaps he'd drool as well, salivating and starving.

He certainly feels starved when he cannot keep you close, desperate and dogged.

You'd teased him that he reminds you of a wolf, and he thinks that's more accurate than he likes. He would bite your hand lovingly, but tear and snarl at your command, if that's what you wanted from him.

Sylus wants to get up, if he can get breakfast ready, he can see your eyes light up. Hand you a mug of coffee, that turns his nose, in bed. So you'll kiss his cheek and sigh happily.

He feels satisfaction when he sees you happy because of him. Yet...

Pressed against you, your chest moving with each breath. So alive, and warm and his. You trust him to guard you, to kiss your neck when the scent drives him to madness, to keep you warm against the cold. He once mused that you still took his hand despite how dangerous he was, and every day he marvels more at how you continue to do so.

Now when you take his hand, you place a kiss on his knuckles. That if he had no healing ability, would be scarred and torn and ruinous. He thinks, that even if that were the case... you would still kiss them tender and raw.

You had always seen something in him that no one else did. Flowers suiting his soul, a smile worthy of his face, love belonging in his hands.

He feels sick with the feeling, overflowing from where joined hearts beat in his chest, but it's a sickness he would never wish to heal himself of. Peace found despite how little he probably deserves it.

Sylus is selfish though. A fragment, a taste, a burst of you had not been enough. Millennia's will not be enough. Until the end of the world itself he will never think this is enough.

No matter his sullied hands, or the actions he has made, some of which he would not apologise for, he will never relinquish his treasure.

His Soul.

You who owns his heart for eternity.

As he bites down at your shoulder, stirring your sleep, and laves with his tongue to your sleepy pleasure, he settles for a taste of the cure to his hunger, that he plans to draw out forever.

[teddybeartoji]

begging bodyguard!blade to tell you stories because you can't sleep and his voice is so calming...

[milflewis]

gimme sth w 49 - self sacrificial. im in a mood. also love you

49. Self-sacrificial

"I am going to do it tonight."

Carlos taps at his phone, selecting two words for Connections. Tuna and sword are both fish. "Okay."

"I am. I have decided - we have decided."

"Okay."

What the fuck is a grouse? The English language is completely ridiculous, in Carlos' opinion.

"Monaco is tomorrow, Carlos, I must do something."

Carlos looks up at that. There are circles under Charles' eyes, blue and delicate. Everything about Charles looks delicate. There are always circles under Charles' eyes recently.

You have a face for dying, Carlos thinks about telling him. Most of the things Carlos thinks about telling him go unsaid.

"If you say," Carlos goes with instead. He opens up Google on another tab.

Grouse /ɡraʊs/

noun

noun: grouse; plural noun: grouse

a medium to large game bird with a plump body and feathered legs, the male being larger and more brightly coloured than the female.

verb

verb: grouse; 3rd person present: grouses; past tense: groused; past participle: groused; gerund or present participle: grousing

complain about something trivial; grumble. "she heard him grousing about his assistant"

So, not a fish.

"Yes, I am saying."

"Yeah." Carlos is sure there is a fish that is like the church. He looks at the words again. Monk? That sounds not entirely wrong. "I heard you."

Carlos sees Charles' hands twist in his lap out of the corner of his eye. He knows exactly how soft the skin is between Charles' fingers, though they have never held hands out in public.

Surely there is a crabfish. That could work. Carlos presses SUBMIT. That was his last guess. The category was: __FISH. What the fuck is a silverfish?

"I can't say no to them now."

Carlos exhales. He powers off his phone, slipping it back into his jean pocket. He stands up. Thank fuck he never took off his shoes when he came over to Charles' hotel room, Charles insisting that they need to talk before morning.

Carlos has already said everything he needs to say. Charles will not hear it. Or he does, but simply does not care. Carlos prefers to think about it like this - Charles not caring about him, rather than him not caring enough.

"No," Carlos gives him, allows him, because there are circles under Charles' eyes and Carlos is never going to hold his hand again, won't know how the skin there changes as he grows old, and he has always been weak. "You can't."

Ferrari has always been Charles', and after tonight, Charles will always be Ferrari's.