#colors are my nemesis OK
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hey i have another request if youre still open to taking em? can u draw yellow guy wrapped up in a blanket or rug, like ppl do w/ kittens? he is being kept from causing injury + destruction and enjoys the pressure. also i can imagine the 3 guys going to the beach and burying red guy in the sand while he's sleeping. i feel like that's smth yellow + duck would do. idk i just wanted to throw ideas out there for u, hope u enjoy these and pls do whatever u like with them! enjoy ur day :D
i really liked the imagery of this one ... i think he wakes up and doesnt even mind it
#described in alt#request#dhmis#dont hug me im scared#dhmis yellow guy#dhmis red guy#dhmis duck#colors are my nemesis OK
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the family lean lol
#plate of corn moment#its kinda cute idk#tommen with the forward lean ok girl ur so quirky and different we get it 🙄#why is joffrey in targ colors tho lmao#this is why your dad doesnt love you#'my idiot flop son keeps wearing my arch nemesis' colors hope he dies right now'#maybe its just dark red#its so weird seeing robert alone with the kids wow its almost like he's their dad???? or something?????
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Happy Birthday (LN4)
Summary: It’s his favorite person’s birthday
Warnings: literally none just language
Note: my bday being a few days ago has nothing to do with this!!!!!!!! I know it’s short but I got a late start to this tn 😭😭 hopefully I can get some much needed writing time tomorrow
landonorris happy birthday to my person! I told myself I would just say all of this to your face but on second thought I want the world to know just how much I care about you. To be honest, when we first met, I never thought we would be here; in love and prepared to spend the rest of our lives together. I just didn’t think you would like me that way. However, the day you said yes to going on a date with me will forever be one of the greatest days of my life. That was the day my life truly started because, as cliche as it is, you are my life. I’ve never cared or loved someone as hard as I do you and I’m eternally honored to be the person you come home to at the end of the day. Being your boyfriend over these past few years has taught me a few things. The first thing being that someone’s laugh actually can become your favorite sound. Always thought that was an over exaggeration but hearing you laugh and knowing I was the one to make you laugh is completely different from the happiness I feel when I win a race. The feeling’s better because you’re better. The second thing being that loving someone doesn’t have to be hard. I feel like people think love is a hard thing but with you it’s not. From the start, loving you has been easy because you understand me and you love me wholly for who I am. There has never been a time where I had to force myself to love you or work to strengthen the love I harbor for you, and there will never be a time that will happen. Loving you is like watching the sunrise. It’s peaceful and quiet, beautiful to look at and experience, and, most of all, it’s relieving because you know there’s going to be the hardships of the day, but that’s ok because you can always come back to the memory of waking up, starting your day, with such a gorgeous view. I don’t have to say that I think you’re the most stunning person to grace this Earth, you already know. But, if somehow you don’t, I’ll repeat it to you for the rest of our lives. Lastly, sorry I know this is long, the third thing you have taught me is to enjoy life. People seem to think that mentality came from my own mind, but, no, it didn’t. It came from you who said it to me one night when I had a panic attack over the stress of racing and performing well. You sat with me in our bed, held me as I freaked out, comforted me, and told me that I had forgotten to enjoy life. In the moment, you had related that statement to me enjoying the privilege of being able to do what I love as a profession especially when what I want to do is so hard to get in to. Although, after thinking on that statement, I realize that enjoying life has nothing to do with racing and everything to do with you. Enjoying life is cherishing the moments where I get to wake up to you, cherishing the times when you tell me you love me, cherishing the ability to love you, cherishing the calls I get in the middle of the night because you don’t care what time it is where I am, all you want do to is tell me the gossip you heard that day, cherishing the fact that I’m the person you want to spill those secrets to, cherishing the knowledge that I’m the person you trust enough to confide in, and cherishing you. Anyways, I should stop now because you’re actually calling my phone as I write this. Probably going to tell me something about your high school arch nemesis coming back into your life to ask for F1 tickets. Don’t worry, I’ll act surprised and tell you she’s out of her mind if she thinks she’s coming anywhere near a race circuit dressed in our colors. Happy birthday, baby.
Loved always by me,
Your biggest fan 🧡
Comments:
mclarensgirlyy SO BASICALLY ILL JUST GO THROW MYSELF OFF A CLIFF THEN
f1fan22 i will never recover.
ynnn LANDO THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING I HAVE EVER READ I AM FUCKING CRYING I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH LAN THANK YOU I LOVE YOU
- landonorris I love you more baby
- mclarenfan4 STOP THIS MADNESS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
ln4andop81 he is so gone for her like I just genuinely don’t even think winning is top priority for him anymore it’s her
- landonorris ofc I’m literally so in love with her she’s my end all, be all
- ynnn so I’ve passed away.
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 x reader#mclaren#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris fic#lando imagine#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris edit
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Okay, I'm gonna go a little
but hear me out:
If Melinoe is the ghost goddess/chthonic nymph and has the same hair color as Persephone, and following the Melinoe hymn it's said that "whom revered Persephone bore by the mouth of the Kokytos river", I'm betting money on the fact that she was born just after Zagreus, but since Mel was... you know, phantom-like:
Persephone could not just leave her to be or get back to the Underworld, so I'm theorizing she did the second best thing: leave Melinoe with someone else who was more apt to take care of her, someone like...
since Melinoe was called a, you know:
and she also calls the new big mommy Headmistress, so if I'm theorizing right said headmistress could either be Hecate, Circe, or Medea. Circe is a good option because of her island, which is somewhere the teaser seems to be happening at? Or a garden of some kind, or Olympus garden for all that I know because Chronos got himself free and brought war upon the Olympians, and on that note, I would like to point out that this place can very much be Poseidon's domain:
Some other things that I would LOVE to point out:
This guy is a son of Nyx. He's Thanatos and Hypnos' brother.
Nemesis is also a daughter of Nyx and it's said in canon. Also: LOOK AT THE FUCKING SWORD.
And Supegiant said in the Steam intro that:
"Infuse your legendary weapons of Night with ancient magick, so that none may stand in your way. Become stronger still with powerful Boons from more than a dozen Olympian gods, from Apollo to Zeus. There are nearly limitless ways to build your abilities.
Meet a cast of dozens of fully-voiced, larger-than-life characters, including plenty of new faces and some old friends. Grow closer to them through a variety of new interactions, and experience countless unique story events based on how your journey unfolds."
Can we expect Hera, Hephaestus, and Hestia? Because we already got this gay- I mean, guy.
Halfway through this, I was like "ok but the headmistress dress like Charon so it would be pretty fucking funny if it was just Nyx with a hat" and this thought does have some credibility bc:
I MEAN??? LOL I MIGHT BE WRONG BUT I ALSO MIGHT BE RIGHT?? I think two chthonic gods in a trench coat are not too far-fetched for Hades' standards
(Will she be a boss? Will Chronos be a boss? WILL CHRONOS STOP TIME JUST AS HADES GOT INVISIBLE?)
AND YOU CAN PET THE FROG, THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT (its name might be Frino, because it was the name of the file when I got it from Steam).
And who do you think this red-caped dude is? My friend is betting her money on Odysseus and Jason.
And I would like to finish this madness with the fact that since Chronos is fucking shit up and Hades is trapped inside a BDSM dungeon like this
Zagreus is probably doing what he hates most in this whole wide world: the desk job LOL GET FUCKED ZAG
AND GO WATCH THE ANIMATED TRAILER
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happy happy HAPPIEST of birthdays to you, lovely!
I am absolutely OBSESSED with the idea of baking a birthday cake together (or the icing one, if you’d rather) and “come on, blow out your candles!” - with TGM Ice - do with that what you will 💛
Ok. So. I'm combining a couple of Ice birthday cake asks because there's at least two I know of. I manipulated the ask just a little, Gogh darling, so I hope it's ok and that you love it. Because I really, really do. Mature Iceman just is a whole other thing for me, okay?
Triggers: mentions of cancer, age gap
All My Should'ves
Really, there’s very few instances in his life that Admiral Tom Kazansky could say he deeply, truly regrets. Not that he’s the only man that has any, certainly—it’s the crisis of life, regret. But nothing quite brings you nose-to-nose with those moments like the numbering of days, the perspective of the dying. And sure, he’s always known he could die, in the air. On the ocean. Blown into a thousand pieces even an ME could never put back together. But not like this.
And some of those regrets are smaller than others. Selling his ‘67 Grand Prix in high school, not plucking up the courage to ask the captain of the cheer squad to prom his senior year. Watching her go with his nemesis in high school, instead. Of course, all the shots he should’ve taken in the air. All the maneuvers that, in hindsight, were absolutely bonehead mistakes only rookies survived but he, by some miracle of heaven, had. That one speech he gave in 1994; that one Academy exam he should’ve studied for instead of fooling around with what’s-her-name-could-never-compare-to-you. That damn Oldsmobile in ‘87. Skipping out offering on that house you’d both loved, had watched another honeymoon couple actually buy. Never getting around to seeing God’s handiwork across the globe at paces slower than neck breaking from the seat of a cockpit.
What’s more haunting than all those choice moments, perhaps, are the everyday things. The things he should’ve said before that hardly-legible scrawl welded forever in his medical chart threw a wrench into everything and flat-spinned every heartbeat of life. Now it’s in every breath. All the white-hot, cracking whip of minutes. Every kiss, every glance, every dance of the day to day. It pursues like a hound of hell, like unshakable bogies and tone that stands up and screams.
He can’t think—rather, exist—without the whispers of cancer following him around like a shadow. It’s an adjective before his name. One burning question everyone only knows how to ask at parties, the only topic of conversation that swirls through the air. “How’re things going, Ice?”
And God, does it take over. Crucifies him with memories and all the “should haves.” Laying awake at night, restless to sleep but too exhausted to function, regret pounds the stakes that nail him to the cross of lifetimes. He hasn’t slept soundly in weeks. Everything he’s ever said means little to nothing at all, has no truth whatsoever. Words, before you really think about them, ring hollow. Are spineless and without depth. Black in white thrown against a canvas of opportunity, screaming for color. Dreams die, like pulseless corpses; extinguished Vegas neon in a night screaming for light—everything he’d ever lived for, extinct. Washed out beneath the harrowing shadow of “How long, Doc?”
Memories parasite his energy—there’s little to do than remember, after all. Hours brimming with nothing but the film reel of his life, passing in slow motion black-and-white. Damn the Navy, benching his ass for medical in his prime. When there’s so much to do, to give. Admiralty fully stalled while pursuing recovery, these four walls press in like Paul and Silas. Forever awaiting the day his prison Sesames open, chains shatter. He’ll rejoice like Scripture recalls of the two men, singing praise. Endlessly blessing the eternal. If only.
“Ice?” The clear strength of your voice echoes down the hallway leading into his study like an open sky. The soft pad of footsteps down the hall lifts his attention from the papers he’d like to mull over, the atmosphere shifting a little as your energy cracks into the room like a whip.
Eyes skating up the length of you hanging in the doorway like a bad habit, the corner of his mouth lifts into a pleased little smile. You’d left early this morning for the market, your soft kiss had stirred him from whatever little sleep he’d laid hold to in the wee hours. And Tom regrets not stealing a glance at you before you’d whisked out the door—-it’s sinful, really. Nobody should look so good in a maxi skirt and knotted t-shirt, barefoot sunburn and all.
Arms crossed over your chest, you angle your head to rest against the doorframe, smiling softly. Lift a foot to press against your leg, balancing candidly in his doorframe. Watching him, eyes skating over the splay of trinkets and documents on his desk that mean little to nothing at all when you’re here. And then that smile—it catches him off guard even after four years together. Thrums up his heartbeat a little more every time.
Blinking, his fingers brush closed one of the open books on his desk. You look just like you did the first time he’d slapped eyes on you at the Naval ball, four years ago. Effortless, ethereal. Happy and young. Minor differences, like hair color and length that only comes with time. Mostly, though, you’re not wearing that floor length, slit-to-the-devil dress, but—little else is different. Except that Tiffany ring on your left finger that makes him a type of wild that he’d only ever imagined was Maverick’s type, but finds him nonetheless.
“There you are—what are you doing in here?” Your brow pops up curiously for a second, but vanishes away as your brow creases into a confused little wrinkle. “I thought we were baking a cake?” There, the accusation isn’t serious, more curious than anything. Slipping deeper into the room to meet him around the desk, your arms slip home around his middle, “I grabbed eggs from the store, and some cream. And I figured I’d make your favorite for supper—since Ron’s coming over.”
Lifting up on toes, your lazily kiss to the corner of his mouth prompts a smile from him. Smoothing some of your hair behind your ear, he takes a breath of you—eucalyptus and mint, like always. Your hair’s still damp from a shower, and his fingers brush your earring, lightly. Memorizing details to remember for later. Arms snugging around his waist, your fingers card through his hair slowly.
“I pulled your mother’s recipe from the box from on top the fridge—you go get things started. I’m going to change and I’ll be right there.” Smiling coquettishly, you nibble the corner of your bottom lip. The way color dusts over your nose implies motive, but, he isn’t one to complain–you’re lovely when you’re flushed for him, “Think you can handle it, Admiral?”
Nodding, Ice rouses moisture to the front of his mouth. There’s a dozen things he could say, wants to say in a moment like this. But words—they don’t find him as easily. They evade, bouncing beyond the crosshairs of moments like an enemy at Mach 10. Oncology touted that speaking would become difficult as treatment progressed—that eventually, he may not speak at all. Which rusts more decaying regret. How often had he said things he didn’t mean? What weight did his words leave in the world? What he could’ve said, what should’ve slipped from between his lips haunt him like ghosts in the depthless void of time.
He tries not to dwell too long—it’ll eat him alive. Like wolves, all going for the throat. Literally, and figuratively. Radiation and chemotherapy are bastards, fatherless treatments that rip away too much. But what he despises most of all? They dominate moments. Words.
“You bet,” taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, Ice squeezes a little before smiling at you, slowly. “Hurry back,” and he leaves off the Can’t live without you that hangs in the back of his raw, burning throat. Immediately he regrets it when you spin away. Magicking out of the room in a spin of curl, skirt, and perfume that leaves the room asystole in your absence.
You return only when he’s separating eggs into the KitchenAide. A flick of his eyes from his task reveals that you have, indeed, changed clothes—more relaxed, as always. How he loves you. Hooded sweatshirt, satin sleep shorts and tube socks. Different earrings, and he’s fairly sure that’s a fresh coat of gloss that’s got your lips all pouty and plush. Sliding to a stop in front of the fridge, you snap it open with a flick of your wrist to begin plucking ingredients. With a quick prompt to Siri, The Doors blasts through the house and open windows as background noise.
And he could relish in the way you bleed through this kitchen like you were born for it, Tom for a moment thinking you could never belong anywhere but here. In his house. As his wife. Even if you’re twenty years his senior. That controversial young thing his best friends still tease him about. You’d captured him from the first time you’d smiled at him–he’d been reborn when you’d given him your name and agreed to see him again. Euphoria had laced his veins like inferno jet fuel when your “Yes!” had bounced through the front seat of his Chevelle when he’d offered you that Tiffany he loved seeing on your finger.
The beginnings of homestyle frosting are all but alive under your careful attention when you glance at him, “Whoa—hold it!” Eyes wide, you all but jump to stay his hand from depositing a measuring cup of cream into his flour mix, “That’s way too much, baby. Jeez louise.” Batting his hand away sends the cream tottling over the side of the utensil, to the floor.
Surprised and chuckling, he lifts his hands in surrender. “Did you read the recipe, Tom? Calls for a quarter cup of cream, not three.” Blinking, you rescue what remains of the cream from him and grab the carton from the counter, “Here, whisk that.” Gesturing to the fostering you’ve abandoned, you pass the whisk to him.
Brushing his shoulder on your way to the sink, you begin backmeasuring the cream back into the carton. Checking the measurements as you go, humming to Jim Morrison while your head bobs back and forth to the familiar tunes of Alabama Song. Once satisfied, you set aside the carton and return to the island, sliding to a stop in front of the KitchenAide. Dumping the cream, you roll-call the ingredients in the bowl before switching the mixer on, to low. And once the hum of stirring begins and drowns Jim Morrison, you begin collecting ingredients from the counter that are no longer necessary for the assignment. And from the corner of his eye, you look delectable—reaching to replace the flour to too-high cabinets above the stovetop.
Before he can notice the slight arch to your back, the way the front of your thighs brush the edge of the counter even more, he moves from the frosting like he’s firewalking. Crossing daylight between the two of you at breakneck speed, he snatches your wrist. Pulls you flush against his chest like it matters, because it does—and oh, does it.
Your little squeak, the shallow breath—it hits the low of his gut like a jackhammer. Heat afterburns through his blood, Ice can feel it dusting the bridge of his nose like a fresh snow. Not wasting a heartbeat, he tries bringing moisture to the front of his tongue but barely manages—can’t live without slanting his mouth against yours, the taste of you. And it’s a hard kiss, rough. The way you like it; that always produces a little sigh from you. He’s kissed you like this no less than what the stars could guess is a thousand times, but it feels new. Like it always does when it’s you.
But it’s moments like this that rapture away all the regrets, the negatives. The Paul and Silas prison that threatens to pull him farther into the void of uncertainties and unknowns. Home alone in a house that’s too big for the pair of you, but is so picturesque. It’s everything you’d ever wanted, a dream he’d ever only wanted to provide for a dream girl. White picket fence, the whole all-American nine yards. It’s only been four years calling this ZIP yours. But Ice has lived lightyears, here. Lifetimes that aren’t enough. Feel like microsecond sands that slip between the hourglass of fingers and a too-loose hold on dreams.
And it may be December outside his front door and between the chill that chases in and out of his ribs, but the crisp air creeping through open bay windows, rustling Better Homes and Gardens curtains is fresh and good. Chases away racing heat in his blood as his hands brush down your sides. Palms over your ass in those satin shorts make him feel like it’s 1986 all over again, like he isn’t a man twice your age and on the edge of glory. How you fall against his chest, fit against every curve of his frame is the stuff of Shakespearean sonnet and Hollywood–there’s no greater feeling. Eve to Adam. To think that at one time, he’d never thought of missing the rib.
Reeling when you raise on toes to skate your fingers through hair that’s far too silver for his own liking, his hands move to cradle either of your hips. Dipping you forward against his chest, you gasp a little when he steps back to counterbalance. Smile against his mouth, the raspy chuckle in the back of your throat spirals down his spine like a cannonball. And when your fingers brush along the stubble of his jaw, the peek of that platinum ring so at home on your finger could send him into space.
He could kiss you like this forever. And he would. If you didn’t tug at his bottom lip lightly, tipping your head back to look up at him through curled, fluffy lashes. Thumb fanning gently across the height of his cheek, your lips are full and kiss-plushed, cheeks red with either arousal, or the chill of the open window he isn’t sure. You encourage the play of his hands at your hip, the slow circle of his thumb along your hipbone before your eyes skate over his shoulder. To the KitchenAide–to the cake the two of you were supposed to be baking.
“Oh shit!” Like a cat pouncing from a happy tree, you dart around him like it’s a precision cut. Slapping at the mixer, you all but rip the bowl of mix from the paddle, swiping a finger along the side to test the batter. Ice can practically feel your heart thunking against your ribs from here, and you almost slack with relief as the bowl clatters lightly to the island surface. He’s trying not to chuckle as you swipe the recipe card closer to you, for next steps.
“Save it?” He teases, slipping up behind you. To his place. It’s always meant to be his, because you look too perfect standing there in a hooded sweatshirt and shorts to be anything else. He’d sooner lay in front of a train than think you belong anywhere–to anyone—else. Swiping his own finger through the batter, he tastes it. “Tastes pretty alright to me, sweetheart.” It’s rougher than he wants words to be. But, they are words—and calling you sweetheart has never tasted so fine.
With the same hand he brushes tendrils of curl off your shoulder, to nuzzle the soft of your neck. And that, too, tastes delicious—your skin is sweet. Saccharine, almost. Like you’re carved from pillars of innocent goodness designed for him and only him. Memories skip through the back of his mind—had he told you that? Any of it? Fighting to keep the bile of more should’ves from his conscious, he focuses a hot kiss against the juncture of your neck and shoulder.
Wriggling, “I think you’re deliberately trying to sabotage this cake, Thomas,” you mutter to the recipe card, “first the cream, then you distract me from award-winning batter here.” Angling to peek over your shoulder at him, he chuckles at the pop of your brow. “What would your mother say?” Brushing at his hands rucking the front of your sweatshirt up, he rests his chin on your shoulder.
And Tom really doesn’t want to think what the late Mrs. Admiral Kazansky would think, because she’d probably not understand you or the love he harbors between his ribs for you. Really the only thing he reckons his mother would appreciate is the fact you’re following her recipe for his birthday. It’s a week early—but Slider is heading East this weekend, and it’s the last chance either of you will have to see him before the new year. He’d all but insisted on doing dinner. You’d never been more excited to use that fancy, god-awful huge dining room.
He smiles against your skin, reveling in the light thrum of blood beneath your skin. He doesn’t have to answer. Prides that you know this. Gently rocking you between his arms, he slips his nose into your hair and takes a breath of curl that nearly curls his toes as your hands work to twist the batter with a spatula. His hand lifts to dust under your breast—you wriggle away, spluttering out a laugh. Always ticklish.
Working moisture into the pocket of his cheek, “What’re you giving me for my birthday, pretty?” husks into your skin more iniquitous than he intended. The upside traumatized vocal chords, really. Relishing in the bristle of your shoulders, he smiles deviously into your hair, “Feel like sharing early?”
He knows what you’ve squirreled away for his birthday—had spotted that Victoria’s Secret bag on the top shelf of your walk-in weeks ago, and he’d never really been a patient man. A breathless, “Hmmm….I think that can be arranged,” giggles from between your lips, and how you tip back a little against his chest tells Ice everything he thought already knew. Excitement pounces into his gut like a hungry thing, spinning blood through his ears until your hand finds his.
“I think that could be arranged, Admiral—but only if you close your eyes.”
And like adrenaline slipping into his chest at takeoff, you bleed out of his embrace. Tug him around the corner of the island, beyond the kitchen. The cake you’re supposed to be baking. And he’d been getting excited at your bedroom eyes, the sway of your hips leading him to oblivion. Until you breeze past your bedroom; the California King. That’s all but got him hard and excited at the thought of you splayed across down duvets and satin sheets.
Confusion all but hits him like a tonne of G-force when you shuffle him to a top in front of the door to your office, hands over his eyes. Icy cold against his skin, he all but fights away the selfish urge to swat at your hands. Your heart thrums excited against his shoulders from where you’re pressed up against his back, standing on toes to cover his eyes. The childish giggle playing on your lips pulls at the corner of his mouth, until you stop. Hands still over his still-very-much-closed eyes, you shuffle around him to gently stand on the toes of his slippers.
“You ready, Kazansky?” And his mouth opens to respond, but you’ve already whisked your hands away, your “Surprise!” pinballing through him with the force, and clarity, of lightning. Blinking in surprise as you backpedal farther into the room, you’re all but bouncing as your arms Vanna White around the object of your attention. Half of it’s perched on your desk, the other half on a series of boxes you’ve stacked to keep it level. It’s all but taken over your office—all seven and a half feet of it.
Blinking a few times, his brow almost liftoffs from his face before folding into a confused wrinkle. At the goofy grin on your face, the twinkling light in your eyes, he chuckles. A little breathlessly. At face value, he knows what this is. But how it’s here, and why, is the mystery. Heart hitting home against his ribcage, he gnaws at the inside of his cheek.
Eyes moving to take you in, you hurry around the desk and plant your palms on it. Leaning over the absolutely massive aircraft carrier, the all-white, bold 99 all but stands up and demands attention. Smoothing your hand over the desk, Tom doesn't miss the familiar logo-ing of GI Joe emblazoned right at home on the radio tower. It takes all of a few seconds to realize what it is, why it’s here. And it touchdowns, like a Tomcat hitting the tar.
Months ago he’d mentioned off-the-cuff that he’d been a GI Joe kid at one point in his life, and that he’d regretted selling them off in college. One of the very few toys he remembered cherishing the most as a child, he still remembers seeing the USS Flagg in a Sears catalog all those years ago. How he’d have given an arm to have something like that all to himself, and how priceless it would’ve been as an adult. Ironic, Admiralty considered—he had a real life carrier all his lonesome. Entrusted to him by the federal government, nameless and faceless American citizens. By no means a sentimental or materialist, Ice did have his moments—if he’d had children, this would be a piece of nostalgia he’d cherish sending them along with.
A shallow chuckle escapes him as he rubs his jaw, shaking his head at your starry eyed, child-at-Christmas look. Because for all the non-materialism he is, you’re the opposite. You love things. Chaotic happy little clutter that has stories and childhood memories to match. Minimalism is the farthest thing from your personality, and that’s maybe one of the things that he loves about you, minimalist aside. You’re easy to please, happy even with the littlest things. And for all awful he is attaching value to things and knowing what you’d love, you praise the small things. The effort, the thought. And that drives him wild.
“Pretty rad, huh?” Your voice takes up the room as he steps farther into it, eyes skating across the pristine plastic. This is one for the memories, the books—it’s perfect. And maybe something he doesn't need. The last thing he’d ever ask for. But that’s not the point—at all. Just the fact you’d listened, had entertained wistful childhood memories while laying in bed doing nothing, meant the world. You remembered. In a throwaway society that was selfish and liked to forget, you remembered.
“Rad?” His eyes cut from the deck of the plastic carrier to you, fingers brushing over the sticker lines easy. You gnawing giddily on your bottom lip is a delectable punch to the gut. And for all he loves this, he’d send it to the floor if it meant cornering you in that chair, tasting your mouth on his. “I can’t even believe you remembered we talked about this, baby.”
“I remember everything we talk about,” a wishful lie, because he knows better. But it’s beautiful all the same. Slinking around the corner of the desk purposefully, foot over foot, you sidle up beside him and rest a hand on his chest. “How couldn’t I? You said this was something you’d want to pass onto babies, Ice—that’s, well, that’s kinda a big deal.”
And suddenly it’s there—the conversation the two of you have perpetually been circling since getting married. A family, babies. He wanted them, you were hesitant. Not for the reasons everyone would believe—the age difference mattered little in the grand scheme. But cancer, even on the other side of it. Punched a hole in the hull of what seemed to be watertight intentions, even after a year.
And Ice understood—the last thing he’d ever want for you is to raise children alone. But it was the gamble, the gauntlet. Of life, even without terminal illness on the radar. The thought of children, of little feet running around this house, in this season of life felt overwhelming. Fanciful. Storybook, even. Leaves him nearly breathless, thinking about you pregnant and maternal. He couldn’t have ever chosen a more perfect person to have his children, to raise them.
When your arms slide home around his waist, he’s pulled from the thought of just how perfect that extra bedroom would be for a nursery. Leaning forward to join the pair of you at the middle, he takes your face in his hands and smiles at the way your eyes light up into his. Everything about you is so right, so pure. Even when he loved to ruin you, you shone like the sun. Simmered like refined, hot silver waiting to meld into a perfect he could only ever dream of. Thumb fanning over the apple of your cheek, he lowers to wisp a light kiss to the end of your nose, which makes you sigh.
“It’s perfect,” he breathes, letting the thought settle in his chest. And he doesn’t exactly mean the plastic carrier, though that is a level of perfection he hadn’t anticipated. “You’re perfect. I don’t deserve you,” wrapping one of the sweatshirt’s ties around his finger, he curls his finger for you to come closer, if possible.
“You really don’t,” you chuckle, mouth brushing his as your hand smooths down the front of his shirt. “But I don’t deserve you either, Admiral. I guess that’s why we’re meant for each other, huh?” Daylight ceases to exist between the two of you as you meld against him, perfect and whole and everything he’d ever want you to be. And your nails tugging at his scalp lightly as he kisses you feels so exquisite that forgets everything but the way his gut jumps against his breastbone.
Humming in agreement, he shivers when your fingers dust over the button of his jeans. Fingers curling into the denim, you shuffle him forward, back in the direction of the door. Siren eyes and kiss-fat lips, he’d follow you anywhere. But thank God for familiar patterns, because within seconds you’ve bled through the door of the master suite, slipping from his reach easily. Like it’s planned, the easiest thing in the world.
He can’t breathe when you flop onto the bed, all starry-eyed and tipped ears. “Now. About your other birthday present, love. Closet, top shelf—”
And there’s truly very little to regret, after all.
And this is the toy in question! Yes. It actually existed, in a 1987 Sears catalogue. Oh what I would've given....
#val kilmer#top gun maverick#top gun#tom iceman kazansky#answered asks#ask mare#birthday celebration#top gun imagines#top gun maverick inagines#top gun fanfic#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#tgm#tom iceman kazansky x reader#iceman x reader#tom kazansky#iceman kazansky#x reader#tom kazansky x reader#top gun fic
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Holidays on Nemesis
Hi! This is my first post. This is a fanart based on my fiction (which is not written) about body swapping. I think it's easy to tell who is who by the colors of the highlights. I don't know when I'll add people.
OK, here we can see different first reactions:
Someone is scared...
Someone is ready for battle...
Someone is in quiet horror...
...And someone hasn't woken up yet...
#transformers prime#tfp#jack#megatron#miko#dreadwing#raf#soundwave#june#body swap#body switch#hon#ratchet
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As an aro who wants a qpr, reading your qpr of Hero and Villain makes me feel wonderful about myself. Especially because I’m ok with my future qpp feeling romantic feelings for me, as long as they respect that I don’t feel romance towards them.
I’m interested in you writing a prequel snippet where Hero comes out to Villain!
Hey there fellow aro! It means so much to me that you like this series
Part 5 may have gotten a little heavy? But I hope you like it anyways
-------
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
QPR, Part 5 (Prequel)
This was all the hero’s fault.
In their defense, it was news to them that the villain had been flirting.
But maybe they should have known. The witty compliments, the thoughtful gifts, the flimsy excuses to run into the hero again and again and again . . . yeah, anyone else probably would’ve seen this coming from a mile away.
It’s just that the hero didn’t see why those things had to be romantic. They complimented their friends all the time. Bought them presents, spent time with them, told them they loved them. Why did everyone act like romance had a monopoly on care?
Why was friendship never enough?
But none of that made a difference right now. Because the villain clearly had other intentions. The hero felt a pang of guilt for every close moment they’d ever shared with their nemesis.
“I tend to find,” the villain said, resting their arms on the balcony’s rails, “that if you lean into the cheesiness, it becomes endearing.”
The hero glanced at them. “How many laws did you break?”
“Surprisingly, not that many. You wouldn’t believe the kinds of things you can get a permit for.”
“Still, I’m sure there’ll be noise complaints.”
The fireworks spelling “[Hero], will you go out with me?” burned in the night sky like glowing colorful candy. A second bout of fireworks shot up, forming an enormous heart.
“So, did it work?” the villain asked, grin as bright as the explosives. “Did I endear you?”
The hero peered over. The villain’s expression was easygoing, their stance casual.
But their eyes betrayed them.
Their eyes held enough hope to flood a citadel.
This was all the hero’s fault.
“Look, [Villain] . . . I . . .”
The light flickered dead on the villain’s face, and the hero felt like a murderer.
“Oh,” they said, voice deceptively calm. “I see.”
“It’s not because of you, it’s – ”
“Please.” The villain’s eyes were cast downwards. Away from the hero, away from the dazzling display. “Please spare me the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ speech.”
The hero faltered.
But then their jaw set. They needed the villain to understand.
“I’m aroace,” they said.
The villain glanced up, brows scrunched in confusion. “What’s that?”
The hero should have expected this. But still, they wanted to groan. Of all the times to pull out the god damned vocab lesson.
“It’s short for aromantic asexual,” they said, suppressing a sigh. “It means you feel little to no sexual or romantic attraction. In my case . . . I don’t feel it at all.” They met the villain’s eyes. “Ever.”
The villain paused for a moment. Was the hero imagining the disbelief on their face?
“So you just . . . can’t fall in love?”
I love so much and so deeply, the hero thought, some days I’m sure my heart will burst from it.
“Yeah,” they said. “I’m just not capable of that sort of feeling.”
Because allos only ever meant one thing when they said “fall in love.”
The villain searched the hero’s face. “Are you sure you’re not just a late bloomer?”
The hero’s fingers curled at the question. The villain didn’t know any better, they reminded themself. They didn’t realize the implications behind those words.
Maybe you’re just a late bloomer. Maybe one day, you’ll mature out of a fundamental part of yourself.
Maybe one day, you’ll be normal like the rest of us.
“Even if I am one,” the hero said, with a sad smile, “do you really want to wait around forever on the slim chance that I am?”
The villain averted their gaze.
“I’m never going to date again,” the hero continued. “I’m not going to get married. So it’d be best if you just try to move on.”
Of course, the hero’s statement was misleading. It made it sound like the hero wasn’t open to anything. But silently, secretly, within their quiet moments all to themself, the hero longed for a QPR.
Something lasting. Something real. Something treasured and special and intimate, that defied the very definition of what a relationship could be.
But that wasn’t the sort of relationship the villain wanted. Even bringing it up right now would just give them more false hope. It would be nothing but cruel.
“Can we be friends, then?” the villain asked, pulling the hero out of their thoughts.
“Sure,” the hero said. But their smile was fake.
They’d done this dance before. The villain would make an honest effort at friendship. They really would. But then, eventually, they would realize that the hero’s continued presence in their life was making it impossible to move on.
And then the hero would lose the villain forever.
They blinked. If they weren’t careful, they were going to cry.
“Okay,” the villain said, sounding relieved. “So long as we can stay friends.”
----
The villain sat in front of their computer, illuminated by its cold ghostly glow.
On their desk sat a bottle of whiskey. There was a tiny pink post-it note stuck to the bottom corner of their screen, covering the digital clock so that they couldn’t see what ungodly hour of the night it was.
This evening had almost been the most devastating fuckup of their life.
What if the hero had been creeped out by their romantic advances? What if they hadn’t believed the villain about remaining friends?
The hero could have disappeared from the villain’s life entirely.
The villain took another shot of whiskey.
So here they were, combing through the internet for every mention they could find of asexuality and aromanticism. They had to make sure they didn’t mess things up again.
As it turned out, there were never-ending nuances to these identities. Hundreds of different perspectives, piles upon piles of vocabulary words, strange new concepts that the villain struggled to wrap their head around.
It was getting increasingly difficult to keep up.
They were currently scrolling through reddit, a surprisingly helpful resource. Some person had started a thread asking the internet if they might be aro.
At least I won’t have to watch [Hero] get with anyone else, they thought, as their eyes drifted over the comments.
Then, their attention snagged on a new word. Actually, an acronym.
QPR.
Great. Yet another thing to look up.
They clicked open a new tab, and typed the term into the search bar.
As they read, their gaze sharpened. They sat up straighter. Leaned in.
This was . . .
But was it actually viable? What if this was too close to romance? What if the hero wouldn’t go for it?
Could the villain dare hope that they had a second chance?
They finished their whiskey, and slammed the empty bottle back down on the desk.
Well, there was no harm in asking, right?
Part 6
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A-spec stories taglist:
@feline17ff , @piept , @doublericenobeans , @vioqueenofmushrooms
#aromantic#asexual#aro#ace#aroace#a-sec#aspec#asexuality#aromanticism#aromantic spectrum#writing snippet#writeblr#villain x hero#hero x villain#villain#hero#heroes and villains#villains and heroes#lgbt representation#lgbtq+#queerplatonic#qpr#queer#not a prompt
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You are being attacked by the asks fairy! 🧚♀️
Your ask prompts are:
The fairy mafia (like it can be a fairy!villain (based on something I did on my main weeks ago))
Hero is a magical being of your choice
The colour blue.
Prompt #1 - Shimmer
(I've no clue how to write an organized group, so I just kind of stuck with the fairy part 😅)
~
"You have wings." It was barely a whisper coming from Hero's lips.
Villain forced down the rising dread and quickly replaced it with anger. "Stop staring," they snapped. "Yes, I have wings."
Hero visibly swallowed. "Are they...?" They gestured vaguely.
Their nemesis looked less than amused. "I don't know what-" they repeated the gesture, "that means. Spit it out."
"Are they...real?"
Hero's eyes finally flickered away to meet theirs. Villain stared at them for a long moment before scoffing and turning away. Their wings followed the motion, catching the light as they fluttered and drawing Hero's attention once more.
"No," Villain said. "I bought them at the dollar store."
Prompt #2 - Not a God (ok you said magical and my brain said "nope, mythical" and produced this instead)
"A demigod."
"Yeah..."
"That explains the inhuman strength."
Hero rubbed their arm, looking sheepish. "Uhuh."
"And why you heal so fast."
"Yeah..."
"What the fuck?" Villain laughed hysterical. "So I never had a chance to begin with. You were just toying with me, weren't you? I was never a threat to you."
Hero looked startled. "What? No, Villain. No, that's not-"
"Stop." Villain flicked their wrist and turned away. "Save your pity for someone who needs it."
Prompt #3 - Blue
Villain glared at the hero in front of them. Of course when their invention blew up in their face, when they were suffering the consequence of their own failure, their nemisis had to show up. Villain cursed their knack for impeccable timing. And to make matters worse, in their state of near-colorblindness, the stupid Hero was the one thing that stood out the most.
"What are you doing here?" they spat.
"I- I got a distress call." Hero had a funny look on their face as they observed the villain.
Villain scowled harder. Bright blue eyes, blue cape, blue streaks in their hair. Why, of all the colors Villain was left to see, it had to be blue? Everything that highlights them.
#asks for puddle#puddleslimewrites#hello yes I am super sorry for how long it took to respond to this :')#but thank you for the ask <3#feline friendo#it's not exactly what you requested but I did my best with whatever my brain gave me hehe#this was fun! tysm! ^-^#writing#writing prompts#writing snippets#heroes and villains#hero x villain
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sora :3
Omg sora my boy
Ok so yk how he and daxiang have similar hair colors? What if sora during one of his travels goes to China and meets daxiang who thinks "ah, a fan." Cause idk I think a lot of kids would try to color their hair like the national champion dhrhdj meanwhile sora has no idea
Favorite colors are red and orange
No matter how much time has passed he always considers Kenta a very close friends and I think after the nemesis crisis he tells anyone and everyone that he's friends with him, he's just so proud of him!!!
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unpinned this cause im too lazy to keep updating it lolzers. mostly no longer applies
randomly decided to do an intro. ok
u can call me skittles.. not my real legal name but like. yknow. u can still find it
my pronouns r any. go wild (but i pref he/they/she)
im genderfluid and queer
alot of the time i mispell on purpose cause its funny imo
my fav bands are dazey and the scouts, gum disease, and pierce the veil. my fav song is sweet cis teen by dazey and the scouts (the only song ever) my fav color is pink my fav pokemon is blacephalon and i love cats rhrhrgrhrgr :3:3::33::333:3::333:3:3:3
i like reading esp fantasy. i like wings of fire and homestuck and rn im like super hyperfixated on roxy :9 i also like bfdi/bfb/tpot ii tadc and kirby :3
ela teachers are my worst enemy. my nemesis. my foes. why yall so annoying 4 no reason >: [
my fav characters are qibli anenome and whiteout from wof, roxy jade and dave from homestuck, four x and two from bfb/tpot, and bot paintbrush and lightbulb from ii ! (i also love marx from kirby and jax from tadc
i like making kandi and sleeping and being filled with rage. also baking and writing and drawing. i have tt and discord
anyways angone can interact idc if i think you annoying ill just like block you ok byee
also other blogs @androgynousundead @unfathomablydrawnroxy @calmunication
(edited a lil bit. migt edit even more ill tell u)
(i did.) (again)
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Thoughts on the P3 casts personas? i.e which do you prefer between the initial and secondary personas and which are your favourites?
Oh god thank Rui ily for this
Ok so I'll keep this one fairly opinion based (because someone else asked me a very similar question and I thought fuck it I'll rant about them twice because Personas and their designs are my fav thing to talk about) so without further ado:
So in general I absolutely adore the Persona 3 cast's Personas. Design wise they're not as flashy as P5's but I feel like they don't need to be because their more muted color palette and simpler designs fit the tone of P3 well. There are some I love to pieces (Penthesilea, Artemisia, Caesar, Castor and Cerberus come to mind) and then there are some that I don't like that much (Polydeuces and Nemesis). I'll put a more detailed breakdown undercut because I know I'll get carried away lmao but those are my general thoughts!
I'll break them down by character so it's easier!
MC/FeMC: OK so I do have a preference for male Orpheus but I honestly like both! Female Orpheus has a more cheery color palette (well brighter is prob the better word) which I like a lil more but I think the original one is just iconic. I love his harp and how he uses it to bash enemies idk why that's so funny to me it just is. Thanatos is probably one of my favorite designs ever I love that guy so much. I love his mask and I love how beast like he is. And the coffins? Absolute banger design. Messiah is overall a good design but I'm not as fond of it? It's very well executed but I think because it's so late in the game and it's just not as iconic as the other two I'm kinda meh about it you know. Thanatos is my fav for the MCs (and if he doesn't count for whatever reason then Orpheus).
Junpei: I don't have too much to say about Hermes design wise other than I like him! I like his bird look and tbh my fav thing about him is actually his attack animations! The way he slides into enemies is really satisfying to me idk why. Trismegistus though. God I love him so much. Mostly because of his awakening scene that is honestly one of the highlights of the game (like a lot of the second tier awakenings) and the fact his design is a fusion of Hermes and Medea is just so so good. I def prefer him.
Yukari: I really enjoy both Io and Isis a lot. I really like their designs and their lore and how it ties into Yukari's own story! However compared to some of the others, these designs kinda fall in the middle of the pack for me. Solid looks but nothing crazy you know? I think I slightly prefer Isis because of her wings I think that's such a cool design feature.
Akihiko: Ah my boy. He has one of the best and the worst persona designs of the cast for me. Polydeuces is such a dope choice for him as a Persona. Picking the immortal half of the Gemini twins for him and giving Shinji the other one is so so so so good and I could rant all day about why I love the concept. The design? Ugly af I'm sorry 😭 I cannot stand it it looks so weird the big bulky body with the skinny little legs looks so off-putting and his hair is just so weird? I don't like it at all 💀 Caesar however???!! Absolutely ADORE him. Such a powerful looking design and I love the lil person who sits in his chest (I'm one of the "it represents Shinji" people because I just love that idea so much). Caesar def is my preference here.
Fuuka: I really love Fuuka's Personas because of how she interacts with them. I really like how she's encased inside the persona and I think both Lucia and Juno look really really good. Unfortunately they're kinda similar to Yukari's for me in that they're like both very good but just don't stand out as much as some of the others. I prefer Lucia for her lore and I prefer Juno's design so 🤷♂️
Mitsuru: Oh baby. I absolutely adore Penthesilea and Artemisia to DEATH. I have written essays on here about the details of their designs and how they fit Mitsuru as a character so so well. Probably two of my favorites in the entire series. If I had to pick I think I'd give the slight edge to Artemisia because the fact that she has that red mask symbolizing the fact Mitsuru is finally coming out of her shell and letting down her walls a little makes me so so emotional.
Koromaru: Cerberus is a very very good boy. I think it's a really on the nose design but there's nothing wrong with that he's perfect. 10/10 would pet and give treats.
Ken: I think Ken's personas have the same deal as Akihiko's for me but to a lesser degree. I don't like Nemisis that much. I don't hate it as much as I hate Polydeuces, I just think it looks really awkward. I could see what they were going for and the blade saw thing is cool it just looks... Kinda weird. Idk. Kala-nemi on the other hand I much prefer! I think it does the over exaggerated proportions much better than Polydeuces (it's big bulky shoulders look and move really well) and I like the lore behind it. It's not a massive favorite but I enjoy it.
Aigis: Honestly I like both Palladion and Athena a lot. They're both really solid designs and they fit Aigis super well! I'd have to give the edge to Athena though because I love the big shields that circle her. Really cool touch.
Shinjiro: Oh god Castor. I adore Castor so so much. Such a fantastic design. The horse the blade in the chest just everything about him. He looks like Polydeuces but just so so much better. Brilliant design def one of my favs in the series.
#asks#wildcard-rumi#persona 3#fuck it main tag#good lord i went crazy#and im about to go crazy with the next ask too LMAOOOO#literally never ask me about persona designs i will not shut up#but yeah i love sees persona so much#they might not be as cool overall as the thieves personas but god damn do they hit hard#i dont mean to shit on polydeuces so much LMAOO i just really think its ugly 😭#can y'all tell which ones are my favs LMAOOO#im also attached to mitsuru's personas just because ive spent a lot of time studying them for reasons ehehe#but yeah thank you for the ask rui!! bet you weren't expecting this long an answer LMAOOO#i really hope i didnt forget anyone that would be embarrassing af#also before anyone says anything i left out metis deliberately I'll get to her in a minute
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TFA Invasive anon here, ready to serve up some more!
First and foremost, yes, it was the Nemesis and crew that wound up on Earth with the repair team. It is definitely Milfatron time and the baby Optimus is holding is their eldest; he's already made squeaky noises at other attack helicoptors so they know his alt mode is chosen definitely. Otherwise, he's a little sweetheart that likes to chew on things and stare at everyone; aka just like any baby ever. There's a couple others from their broods in the herd chasing Bee.
As for Bee, the moped is actually his sparkling between himself and Prowl (Bee carried) and the four wheeler is Prowl's sparkling from Lockdown (Lockdown carried), who also stopped to top up on supplies when he heard rumors of a starting colony and had a few wild nights with the ninja. He still swings by every now and then to check up on them and take Prowl on dates. There's two other sparklings in the bunch that are Bee's between himself and Blitzwing (Blitz carried); one's a flappy wing'd triple changer and the other's a chunky grounder that's been patting tank pictures, so they know what he wants to be.
And yes to all of the rest; just all of it. Ratchet supervising nap times and tending to little hurts and aches and just being the best grandpa bot ever, grumpy or not. Prowl moves a lot more carefully now, making sure tiny watching optics can follow what he does and always ready to swoop in and catch anyone that slips off a branch or some other high surface. Bulkhead's art classes are very popular and the bitties love every moment of it; the art produced is hung up all throughout the base in various spots.
The other TFA characters are here too; Wreck-Gar helps with the art classes and just playing with the bitties. They love his high energy and willingness to get down and play with them on their level. The Constructicons aren't too good being around tiny sparklings but they help make playground equipment and bittie sized furniture out of stuff, as well as ensuring the nests and hides are safe and well put together.
Blackarachnia is still hiding out on Dinobot Island, with the Dinobots as basically her adopted sparklings. She and Optimus still meet up sometimes to catch up and just sort of...talk, about things. There's a lot of healing that needs to be done there, but it's happening.
Starscream took over the top of Sumdac tower, the tallest in Detroit. ONLY THE BEST FOR HIS NEST. He has a handful of squeaky bitties that are a full rainbow of colors, so best of luck guessing the sire(s).
And basically the only Decepticon that didn't date/get together with an Autobot is Lugnut, but that's only because of his loyalty to Strika. Who....he called over once they got a good signal going and she arrived with her team to help settle in. Then they had their *own* sparklings to add to the growing bunches.
....They may or may not have also brought in an Autobot team that they'd stopped to help; their ship had engine trouble and why not come along with to a new colony, right? So Team Athena could be here too as well!
Ok I’m just gonna go down the list and address every point one at a time, because this kind of ask makes me gush incoherently! Under the cut because this bitch is LONG
1. Hell yeah Milfatron time! 🤩 I gotta know, when you say the bitty OP is holding is their oldest, do you mean the oldest of like a litter, aka all born at the same time, or do they like each other enough to have bitties multiple times over the years? Both are good so it’s your call 👀 or even they’ve had multiple litters? I’m so here for it regardless
2. I’m so glad you’re throwing plenty of cross parenting out there! I’ve always loved that vibe for the invasive species AU. Some mate for life and others just wanna contribute to the colony, and both are 🥰 I’m my book. I love the BeeProwl moped baby XD I love the Lockprowl car baby. I love the Blitzbee bitties (twins?). There’s just so many bitties 🤩 you suppose Bulkhead decided to take the plunge into parenthood, or is he content just being their teacher and playmate?
3. Glad we can agree on old grandpa Ratchet. He’s already has his bitties over the years, and probably won’t be kindling ever again (unless drift shows up in which case-)
4. Wreck Gar! Hell yeah Wreck Gar he’s so cute :’) the bitties probably climb all over him, they just love their big loud Uncle
5. I…….. always forget about the TFA constructicons 😅 are we gonna go with their canon iterations or just go with more of them, as a gestalt? Regardless, at least they’re helping, praise Primus for that
6. Elita still mutated into Blackarachnia? Inchresting 🤔 was Archa 7 a potential colony planet? Were the three of the, just young and stupid and dicking around? How did that whole thing go down? Dying to know. But good on her for finding herself a niche and a family ^-^
7. As for the rest of the decepticons, I love Starscream and his nest of squeaky babies. Ofc he takes the tallest tower because that’s just how he is, BUT. I actually don’t know if it would be Sumdaac tower. Like, think about it. All of Sumdac’s fortune came from tech he got from Megatron’s corpse. Megs never crashed here, so he never had access to it. He still may be an inventor but one with such a vast tech empire? I kinda doubt it. So, whether or not it’s specifically his tower is up for debate, but still! Tall. If he doesn’t decide to stay in the Detroit area he probably peace’s out to a tall, steep mountain where no nosy humans can bother his sparklings and wake them from their naps
8. You will literally never convince me that Lugnut and Strika don’t have twin girls Clobber and Alpha Strike. You will literally never convince me otherwise. Lugnut is dealing with parenthood about as well as you’d expect lmao 😂
9. Team Athena 👀 Rodimus? Hot Shot? Red Alert?? 👀
#cybertronians are an invasive species#I’m sorry this is so ridiculously long but long asks deserve long answers!
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Gonna post MY OFFICIAL SHANG TSUNG BIO. because nrs is wrong and i said so. So suck it boon,suck it fans,this is how shang tsung is supposed to be. Die mad. 💅🏻💋☕💖
Anywho enough of venting. Here's his bio.
❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤
Name: Shang Tsung
Full name: Tsung Shang (i hc his last name is tsung because it sounds better and most of mk names are both given and surnames. I looked this shit up and listen,this game was made by two American nerdy guys. What are you really expecting? A masterpiece? No)
Age: physically: in his 40s. (If we go by cary hiroyuki tagawa's performance in the 95 movie. He was around 40 when he starred in that film. Ik,he dont look it but it's true. And it makes way more sense than how some people and canon depicts his youthful rejuvenated form.) Technically he is over 500yrs (and i collectively ignore any new retcons or canon saying otherwise). He is mortal in technicality. But he is immortal by proxy. Due to his curse of to wither and age less he takes the souls and vitality of others. (Like an energy vampire in a weird way. Guy is basically Chinese Dracula)
Gender/prns: amab, he/they. (He is masc but people are so damn xenophobic and amercian centric on what masc is. But ya know we aint here for that politics. I hc he uses they or gn prns on occasion. If it calls for it. But most of the time is masc coded prns because he's 1. Lazy. 2. It's just a force of habit. And 3. It feels more comfortable for him. Otherwise he's gonna use gn. As he defults everyone to. Because thats how he works,as for himself. Well he just doesn't really give a damn much. He is who he is. Period)
Height: 5'11" (tho in his old man form. I hc he shrinks a bit to a 5'6"/5'7" lol)
Weight: approx maybe 175? I dunno im not good with measurements. So plz dont hate :')
Hair: black,long,and up to his lower back/buttocks. (In his old man form the same but white/silver. Still thick and luxurious. Despite being an old man he takes good care of himself. I can't ever see shang ever living in squander or despair. Even when shit is rough for him. He ooozes confidence even when he struggles. He's mastered self mastery. (God i wish that were me) )
Eye color: dark brown. (Goldens,glosses and turns to a pale gold as his curse affects his aging.)
Origins: Earthrealm (EARTHREALM. NOT OUTWORLD YOU DUMBA$$ES. fucking nrs othering shang tsung and getting rid of what made his betrayal interesting. Fucking morons buy into it too. But whatever.)
Resident realm: earthrealm,on his island. (Which i have hcs about but that is for a separate post because it would be too long to add here.)
Species: Human
Alignment: Neutral. Maybe a bit chaotic. The yin axis. (All in all he's for bis own morality. Never anyone else's)
Weapons: chinese saber or straight sword.
Abilities/powers/etc: Soul magic,fire magic,the dark arts. (He's a mofo sorcerer bih! I have hcs more about soul magic and how his damn magic works. Because people dont really care to write this)
Allies: anyone who he deems trustworthy enough.
Nemesis: any who dares cross him. Liu kang. (He fucking hates liu kang. No it's not secretly likes him. NO HE FUCKING HATES THIS GUYS GUTS AND WANTS HIM DEAD FOR THE SHEET FUCKING PLEASURE OF IT! SHANG,HE'S A PETTY LIL SHIT. OK?!)
Current whereabouts: on his island. Doing who knows what. Mostly tending Mortal kombat tournaments. And any who wishes to learn under him. As he is a master after all.
🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉
Blank below cut (in case you wanna use it for ocs):
Name:
Real name:
Age:
Gender/prns:
Height:
Weight:
Hair:
Eye color:
Origins:
Resident realm:
Species:
Alignment:
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Abilities/powers/etc:
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Nemesis:
Current whereabouts:
Dominion: (used for god characters only. Titans dont exist and i completely erase them from narrative. So dont even fucking add this. Dont even try. It's either gods ocs,immortal ocs(i.e. like bo-rai cho) or mortals (like kung lao,etc). Pick one)
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Ok I delayed this too much is time i make my appreciation of the Sonic IDW comic original Villains part 1:
First this guys:
The gangster green possum and the dumb Skunk thugs
Well for the design i have only one complain and is that i don't like how much this guy resembles Surge, but that's just a matter of color... They shouldn't have made him green but for the rest he is ok i love his Mafia clothes style XD, i like the Skunks too as they are.
Over all this guys don't look too important... I guess the possum gangster is not meant to be a heavy powerful villain and it seems more fit for him to have tumble and Rumble as his lackeys than any other villain ... But it will be fine to use him for less dramatic plots with more comedy relief.
Then Mimic the creepy octopus:
This character has a brilliant design, he is an octopus but has a face that resembles a skull 💀💀 and everything about him and his abilities make him so creepy, scary and shady and also he looks like he has a murderous aura.
He is not meant to be another nemesis to sonic, he was made to be exclusively part of Whisper existence who has a really sad and dark tragic past and it's all his fault and we still haven't see the last of him. I do wonder if he is going to become more powerful and challenging in the future... For such a strong presence and lore we saw too little of him... Now that tangle will join Whisper in her journey i hope we more of him... I'm up for drama!
And the last of this part,
Dr Starline the mad platypus:
Oh dear oh dear his design is my favorite!!! I can't express how much i love that he is a platypus!!
Unlike the others i mentioned this guy has a fairly attractive design, so attractive I wish he had a girlfriend (i saw a lot of fan arts of him with a OC goat girlfriend and I wish it was canon) but he was too focused on his obsession with Eggman 😂. I mean he wears an elegant coat, a stylish haircut and it totally looks like he wears eye makeup! (Eyeliner makes us all hotter regardless of sex or species, i don't make the rules) he is also rather elegant when he is not in fan or mad scientist mode. It's fun that he is not taken seriously by other bad guys probably because he is an annoying smartass, is like he is the loser of the group of villains even though he caused a great impact despite seemingly be more rational and less nonsense guy than Eggman.
Like the other 2 he seems totally fine with murder and is rather sadistic, he is ambitious and push his ideals to his idol Eggman and has 0 empathy for others regardless of being his subordinates or creations, he is not a strong fighter so I respect that they still made him fight physically despite being more of a brains and not muscle.
And well what he did to Surge and kit... And his tragic end in the fight against Eggman... I'll say he had a great ending descending from ambition and fanatism to madness and ending with a breakdown moment of self deprecating followed by a "supposed" death ☠️, man I'm gonna miss him... I still hope we see more of him.
In part 2 I'll talk of the last current villain showed... And totally my favorite 💚🖤💚⚡⚡
By the way... Is this a female platypus??👇👇👇
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#sonic idw#dr starline#mimic the octopus#tangle and whisper#surge the tenrec#kit the fennec
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"Delete later" oh. Better speed run this shit then ajshdm
1, 5, 16, 26, and 30 for the music ask pls :3c
omg thank you!! I'm gonna answer these with hyperlinks to youtube videos <3 :DD also lmfao dw abt the "delete later" tag it's gonna be up for at least a day or sth and I might just end up forgetting it's there hahaha
anyways..... 👀
(1) A song you like with color in the title
- like? A specific color? Or the word COLOR? Because, hilariously, I have one that fits both of those criteria lmfao: Favorite Color Is Blue by Robert DeLong ft. K.Flay! It's a fun, seductive kind of "fuck me up" song! >:D
(5) A song that needs to be played LOUD
- ohhh I have a couple!
But depending on what kinda vibe I'm going for that particular day, Nemesis by VNV Nation makes me want to riot!!!! It's about seeing all the unfairness in the world and a guttural cry for justice!!!
Mate Um Bonito Hoje Mesmo by Marcioz on the other hand just fills my chest with an indescribable rush after the initial drop, like falling through a raging storm at high speed, watching the world around you go up in flames - but still ends on a gentle, if oddly somber note! It has to be played loud for the full immersive effect, in my humble opinion ÙwÚ
(16) One of your favorite classical songs
- ok so this is 100% going to put me on blast as being a blatant and obvious remnant of my long-lasting past fnaf phase, but there's just something so genuinely, heartachingly beautiful and haunting about Ständchen by Schubert that I keep adoring
(26) A song that makes you want to fall in love
- definitely Nothing by Bruno Major. There's so much beauty in the sheer domesticity of it, the simple comfort and everyday joys one can source from the most mundane of places that are simply better together, even if you don't add the specifically romantic lens!
(30) A song that reminds you of yourself
- oh boy this was a hard one ngl.
If you'd asked me this a couple of years ago it would've been something far more depressing, but now...
despite the occasional downs I still often experience, I'm mentally and emotionally doing better than I ever have I think.
I have people who love me unconditionally around me, I'm growing in confidence through simple everyday life as a working adult, I don't feel like I have to hide myself and who I am around people as much anymore... It's oddly nice. It's the reason I get very teary eyed whenever I think of the Orange poem by Wendy Cope - just this reassuring sense that things really do get better :')
So Green Grass by Ellie Dixon will have to be my pick for this!
It's just the right amount of struggle and optimism, with a touch of external support that I finally feel like I have going much more of for me. Also a touch of motherly love and advice, which is something that hasn't always been as apparent and appreciated by me in my life as I feel it is now ;w;
#mom hasn't always been the most understanding person when it comes to my neurodivergence but she's srsly doing her best to rectify that now#and I appreciate that so much more than I think she realizes#chubs answers#chubs rambles
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