The entire Solar System as furries! Finally got around to doing a full lineup <3

And I just had to throw Pluto in there, as a treat :3

Planet Personifications - Info Sheets

you may or may not have seen these guys floating around on here, but these fellas are my planet personifications! ive been meaning to post these for a while now (made sol’s sheet nearly a year ago lmao), but here they are!

i’ve always had a passion for astronomy, and combining it with my passion for character design lead to me making these guys a few years ago. i tend to focus more on what we’ve observed about these planets when figuring out their design and personality, which is always very fun for me hehehe.

if yall have any questions regarding these guys, feel free to ask! i may not get to it right away (my inbox is a mess yikes’’’) but i dunno i love these fellas so much asgdhahsd

(text on each sheet under read more)

Sol (the sun) [he/him - bi - 7′8″]: About as happy and "sunny" as you'd expect! He's the "leader" of the solar system and loves each and every one of his planets!

Mercury [he/him - gay - 5′3″]: The aloof first planet. He's a lot more talkative than you'd expect, able to hold convos that go on for hours. Has been through a lot but still living strong!

Venus [she/her - bi - 5′7″]: The explosive and derisive 2nd planet. Her acid skies and  fiery temperatures leaves her always itching for a bit of destruction.

Earth  (terra) [they/them - nb&bi - 5′7″]: Home sweet home! They're the solar system's sweetheart, arguably being it's most powerful planet. May or may not be the main character of reality.

Mars [he/him - bi - 5′5″]: The first planet after the ice line, Mars is very anxious, kinda depressed, and always ready for a bit of vandalism. Probably the most introverted extrovert you'll ever meet.

Jupiter [he/him - bi - 6′6″]: The largest planet in the solar system. He's a gentle-giant-in-training who's trying to atone for his past. His distinguished appearance poorly hides a friendly and silly soul.

Saturn [he/him - trans&bi - 6′4″]: The least dense of the planets. Generally the voice of reason among the planets, even if he seems somewhat self-absorbed. High standards for himself, but more for giving for others.

Uranus [he/him - bi - 6′1″]: Permanently on his side from a collision in his youth, Uranus has a sideways view of the world that tends to distance him from the other planets. It doesn't help he also has trouble feeling and expressing emotions.

Neptune [he/him - trans&gay - 6′1″]: The farthest planet in the solar system. Neptune is an anxious, emotional crybaby who has trouble calming down, and will often argue with people for hours on end. Good thing he has Uranus around to keep him in check.

Pluto [he/him - nb&ace - 5′0″]: The largest of the dwarf planets! Pluto has a very large and loud personality that makes up for his small size. Often left out of things, he will try to make his mark by any means necessary.

My Home, My Heart - Platonic!141 x Reader

Fem!reader Summary: Y/N has two younger sisters named Emi and Marigold. Y/N has invited her teammates to her farm relax after their deployment, they enjoy an early morning together with Y/N's younger sisters. Masterlist

Cw: Mentions of an absent mother, mentions of alcohol, very cringe writing

Word Count: 2232

The morning air was cold and thick with the scent of brewing coffee and dusty curtains. You winced, pulling yourself from your cocoon of quilts and comforters. You reached for the knitted sweater you left on the floor with a yawn, still tasting last night's bourbon on your tongue. You scratched the back of your head, tangled hair falling down your back. A pleasant sting in your muscles drew you further into consciousness. The intricate tattoos stretching over the scarred skin was a prideful mapping of your stories and ancestry. A permanent reminder of what you cherished most. 

You made your way across the familiar path of your bedroom, your socked feet creeking across the worn wooden floor boards. You thumped down the stairs to squint away the morning light shining through the fogged windows. Tracing your nails across the scratches in the wooden railing as you did when you were little. Your farm house was quaint, nestled into a vast, rich, valley that was folded into the ocean cliffside. If you were lucky and the morning mists parted in time, you could see the sun kiss the churning waters golden. The property had been in your family for decades, the imprint of different generations found in the old oil-stained recipe books stored over your stove, the tablecloths and plaid quilts your grandmothers had sewed together by hand, the worn-in farming tools that you had been teaching your sisters to use, and in the welcoming promise of security you returned to after every deployment. You cared for this home, the same way it had cared for you and your sisters. So when money grew scarce and your mother abandoned the property, you joined the military, trained as a combat medic, and sent the majority of your checks back to the farm and into your sister's schooling. Little did you know that in joining the army and eventually qualifying as an SAS soldier, you would find yourself under the command of Captain John Price along with the other chosen candidates for the coveted 141 squad. In which you had managed to find the comfort of home far away from it. 

You had found it in their smiles and their hearty laughter. In Johnny's jabs at Simon for his British mannerisms and in your conversations with Gaz regarding his nightmares surrounding the night he first met the captain. You found it in your Price’s encouraging rants about bravery and in his habit to always make sure you had eaten at least one thing that day. You found it in random bars and around a deck of cards, in the bottom of cheap beer bottles and the barracks of the different bases you were rotated between. When you first joined, you believed that you had only two goals, make sure none of these men die, and if they do make sure they don’t die alone. It was only through the many bullets you had to dig out of their muscles and the frantic stitching of open wounds did you begin to see these men as your brothers rather than colleagues. You cared for them with disciplined tenderness, never treating them as broken but always ready to help fix and mend their wounds. And as your first year on the team stretched into three you eventually had invited them to spend a few nights at the farm. Before, only Gaz, Roach and Johnny found time to make the trip. It was only now that you had convinced everyone to come up for at least one night, with Price and his wife meant to be driving up that evening. It was meant to symbolize how far you had come as a team but also a merging between your two homes. A celebration of your camaraderie and friendship, or that's what you told yourself as you stocked up on ibuprofen for the inevitable hangovers you would have to deal with. Your sisters were ecstatic, to have someone else in the house to talk and play with other than you. You couldn’t blame them. In your phone calls with Marigold in the days leading up to your flight back, she couldn’t stop talking about how happy she and Emi were to see their uncle Johnny and to finally meet the mysterious Simon Riley you talked so much about. 

Your lieutenant was someone you knew didn’t have a home like yours to return to. You had never forced Simon into feeling obligated to accept your offer, even if you told him every holiday and summer season that he was welcomed in your home and that your sisters would love to meet him. So, when you made your way to the kitchen and saw from across the tiled counter that your youngest was sitting at his side, asking feverish questions about his tattoos while tracing them with her small chubby fingers, you felt a mixture of relief and pride bloom in your chest. ‘Morn’in… you sleep well?’ Gaz asks who stands at your coffee maker, pouring himself a cup. You smile, realizing that the tension that held his shoulders back and his jaw tight had finally dissipated. The cream cable-knit sweater was pulled up to his elbows so as to not get the fabric dirtied with coffee grounds. 

‘Of course.. How could I not after last night?’ He smirked, dumping fresh grounds into the machine. You were referencing the long card game you had played the night before. All of you finally went to bed when Roach’s slurred speech was entirely indiscernible, elated from the bottles of Geniuss Johny had brought from his trip into town that day with Simon. 

‘Well, you are still the only one who has managed to stay sober, that might change tonight once captain gets here’ Gaz says, you snickered as you pulled the fridge open, finding the coffee creamer. You handed it to Gaz, knowing he is the only one who likes the stuff, you stocked up. In a trade, he handed you a cup of coffee of your own. You took a generous swig, the dark liquid burned down your throat, waking you up. 

‘Y/N!’ The squeal of your little sister's voice made you smile widely, giggling at the way she perked up from Simon’s arms, finally noticing you. Her bright red hair was messy and tangled. Your old shirt she had chosen to sleep in hung from her small body with the tube socks bunching down her calves. You set the cup down before crouching down to pick her up and swing her into your arms as she ran into the kitchen, peppering her freckled cheeks and forehead with kisses. After coming back from every deployment, you tried to give your sisters as many kisses and hugs you think they missed when you were away.

‘There’s my little lass! What were ya do’in with our Simon there lovie? This early in ‘da morn’in?’ You cooed, brushing back the frizzy strands from her bright round face. Her arms pat your shoulders in her built up excitement. ‘He- He was tell’in me ‘bout the dwa’ins on his a~arms.. It’s like yours!’ She said pointing back at Simon, who sat idly on your couch. The one requirement you gave him was that he wasn’t allowed to wear his ski-mask in the house. You wanted your sisters to know the real Simon, not the soldier. You chuckled, looking back at your lieutenant, his lips drawn upwards as he looked down at his hands. Gaz reached over and ruffled your sister's hair before kissing her head and turning back to switch on your old stove and pulling out a large pan from your cupboard. ‘Was he now? That is just… huh’ You said fake-surprised. Only your baby sister could have gotten Simon to smile so easily. Gaz softly chuckled as you set your sister on the island counter. You heard Simon scoff, leaning back on the couch. You winked at Gaz, realizing that you and him now had the best blackmail for when you were back on base. ‘What do you want in your pancake’s Emi?’ Gaz asked you sister, fishing out the carton of eggs, fetched yesterday by Marigold from your coop. 

‘Chocolate please.. And blueberries!’ Emi said, swinging her feet ‘Is Roach and Soap up yet?’

You ask both of them, fetching another mug and pouring a cup of coffee for Simon. Carrying the fresh cup over to your lieutenant. ‘Kid’s knocked out cold.. really can’t handle his liquor. Johny’s up though.. Took Mari out to chop would I think’ Simon said, nodding as he took the steaming porcelain cup into his large hands. ‘Did he? We should fetch them in a few.. wanna get started on dinner prep after Gaz finishes up’ You say, looking out the window expecting to see your sister and Johnny with arms filled with pine logs, trudging through the thick build-up of snow. You sip your coffee, fat lazy flakes of white drift lazily from the hazy sky. In the distance you can see the plump black bodies of your cows stomping through the blanketed fields, swaddled in their winter coverings. The soft crackle of the wood stove in your living room blended together with the muted conversation struck up between Emi and Gaz. Emi asking him if he had cows and chickens in Birmingham like we do here. You turned at the shuffled Simon standing beside you. One of his hands in his sweatpants pocket with the other wrapped around the rim of his mug. You smiled, hoping that Simon felt the same collective comfort you felt any time you would look out from this window. ‘My sister would never! She.. Sh-’ ‘Oh but she would! She’s an absolute menace lassie..’ You groaned, leaning your head back. Johnny’s voice carried from the back porch. Only now did you realize that having your teammates and your sisters in the same room meant they now had every reason to share the many embarrassing stories of you they had collected over the years. You took another swig of your coffee, smiling at the sound of Marigold's high-pitched laughter as Johnny recounted one of the nights he had to drive you home from the bar with you entirely shit-faced, trying to grab hold of the steering wheel from the backseat. You smiled down at your cup, downing the last of the hot liquid. ‘I’m really glad you're here Si’ You say, just loud enough for the two of you. Looking up at him, you couldn’t tell if the softening of his eyes was from the coffee kicking in or your comment. Either way, to see your Lieutenant so relaxed was rare and welcomed. You were proud that you could give this to him. Repayment for all of the times he had listened to your rantings about your mom’s non-involvement in your sisters lives. For the late-night walks around the different bases after one of you had a nightmare. For the constant reassurance that you could stick behind him and the rest of the team for protection and certainty. He turned to you to say something, only you had turned away at the crack of the porch door opening and snowy boots being kicked off.

‘Y/N! is it true that you were captured by yanks and..and Johnny had to save you? Your sister asked you, her face flushed red from the bite of the cold and the swinging of your axe. Between your two sisters, Marigold looked the most like you. The gentle swoop of her freckled nose and chocolate brown eyes always was a surprisingly reminder that you shared her beautiful features. You took the pale bucket from her arms, filled with split cedar logs. Looking over her shoulder to glare at your sergeant, who winked at you as he unzipped his coat. Snowflakes falling off of his shoulders. ‘You go wash up lovie, breakfast should be done by then, Ya Gaz?’ You asked into the kitchen, receiving a muted ‘yea’ from Gaz. You gently squeezed your sister's icy cheeks. You kissed her hairline, her darker red curls peeking out from the green headband she tied her hair back with. She hurried up the stairs with a hum. You sighed, placing the pale on your hip. You watched as Johnny ruffled Emi’s hair as he got himself coffee before taking his place beside Simon, who still stood watching your snowy farm through the fogged window. You sighed, crouching in front of the wooden stove and opening the hatch. The dwindling flames licked your arms as you placed the fresh wood over the coals. The ambient shrill of laughter and the warm buttery scent of Gaz’s pancakes settled you. You shut the stove with a harsh click. You picked up your baby sister from the counter and set her on your hip, tsking at the chocolate smudged around her mouth. A clear indication that Gaz let her get into the chocolate chip bag. You smiled, looking out over your home. Realizing that the people you cared for the most were all here. Tucked away in your warm, hidden paradise. There would be no surprises, no alarms or sirens, no uncertainty and panic. For once, you were certain in the safety of your team and certain in your care and appreciation for them. You just hoped that they felt the same.

Mischaracterization for Makarov is SO bad it’s actually insane, like no I don’t think the man who was introduced though the lines “no rules, no boundaries, be doesnt flinch at human trafficking or genocide. He’s not loyal to a flag or country or any set of ideals, he trades blood for money” would have a relationship with an opposing side. I saw someone shipping makarov with soap my man did we play the same games💀he is genuinely such an awful person one of the original missions is to go with him to an airport with a gun and just start blasting. I understand headcanoning morally grey characters or characters who are pretty bad and giving them good traits and stuff but MAKAROV???? No he would not kill someone for you he would kill YOU

Anyways rant over I love his character :3

wanderstar39 / skyewanderstar / fireflies-never-came (also known as Haleigh, Cosmo, Zinnia, Skye) has made s-xual jokes to minors and allow minors in the n.s.f.w channels and have n.s.f.w discussions on their discord server. You can see the birthdays match up. Image backup: ( https://postimg.cc/gallery/FmNQYWP )

The Uranus appears

All the art from my newest chapter of “Milky Way Forgiveness.” Aka My fic!

thought it'd be silly to see a side to side comparison of könig's height compared to mine

curse my mexican genes 😭😭 i stopped growing in 5th grade.. 🧍‍♂️

COMIC: Dense Planets + Saturn's Rings

(Heliosphere: Under the Sky is an original solar system project with personified stars and planets)

Space facts!

“ Saturn's rings are thought to be pieces of comets, asteroids, or shattered moons that broke up before they reached the planet, torn apart by Saturn's powerful gravity.”- NASA page about Saturn

Saturn is not the only planet to have rings, but it’s the only planet with such prominent ones in our Solar System. Earth is the densest planet, but Mercury comes close. Saturn is the least dense planet.

games I wanna play real bad:

Hitman

Assassin’s Creed

COD: Modern Warfare

The Sims

Red Dead Redemption

Far Cry

Last of Us

Hey so I couldn’t actually get the modern warfare Star Wars AU idea out of my head so I drew ghost in mandolorian armor, (I used a shit ton of reference pics) thx for the idea enjoy

also feel free to post it just tag me

Oh… MY GOD??? THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED AND MORE, YOURE AMAZING—

Guys pls show this amazing artist some love bc HOLY SHIT THEYRE TALENTED

@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago

[☀️SOLAR HOUSE | Pose Sheet | Uranus]

I cannot say it enough when I say I'm so blown away by the reception I've gotten for Solar House in the past few days (especially on Twitter)! I'm so incredibly thankful for y'all's support!

So here's some extra planet bird for you to enjoy! <3

doodle dump of some of my planet ocs!!

They'll Never Let Me Be - Plationic!Gaz x Reader

Fem!reader Summary: Gaz helps Y/N through a bad panic attack where they open up about their assault. A/N: This is extremly self-indulgent and written based on my own experience. This is also very dark and somewhat graphic in it's descriptions. Please DNI if this is triggering for you. Masterlist

CW: Descriptions of rape and assault. Descriptions of trauma and panic attacks. Mentions of guns.

Word count: 2204

Your skin felt like it was burning. A deafening itch that burrowed through your bones and constricted your lungs. It made breathing difficult. Every time you exhaled it sounded like your vocal cords were being dragged through barbed wire. Your vision felt like it was sliding over ice with how fast it darted around the empty medical wing. The vacant gurneys and silver trays crowded with scalpels cast crushed-black shadows across the tiled floor. They twisted and bent towards you, slithering their way up your calves and over your chest. You pressed your back against the wall, gripping your sides. You could feel through your cold skin the rampant thumping of your heart. The drills you were taught during SAS training about how to internally calm down from a panic attack came to you in quick, jumbled flashes. Visions of your Lieutenant curled on the bathroom floor, his head in his hands, you at his side coaching him on steadying your breathing. Then it was a woman in uniform at the front of a lecture hall, blurred presentation slides on the dulled projector screen behind her. Pat in rhythm your temples or your wrists, put your head between your legs so you don't pass out, call for help, try to identify three things you could see, you could smell, you could feel… You could feel his clammy, damp hands grip your legs, yanking you closer to him. You could feel a second pair of hands strangle your neck, cutting off your screaming. You could feel your fists beat against his chest, trying so hard to get him off of you. You could see his yellowed eyes bore over your naked body. You could smell the sting of sweat and blood as they both pulled away from you, leaving you piled in your own shock. Their jovial laughter reverberating from the door was the last thing you remember before passing out, choking on your tears. It was three years ago, when you were cornered and violated by two male cadets. When they took from you the last semblance of normalcy you were able to cultivate in your role as an active battlefield medic. You didn’t tell anyone. Every part of you became dominated by the fear of shame and possibility. What if your superiors found out? Would you be kicked out? Would they believe you? What if they blamed you? Did you even want to be believed? 

You pushed it away, bleached their touch from your skin with boiling water and washed their spit from your mouth with bottles of scotch. You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone, it would be a burden you would have to die with. Even through your transfer into the 141 squad and through your developed friendship with your teammates. You wouldn’t tell anyone. It would be the first thing you came to control over the situation after it was entirely ripped away from you. 

Only, you were starting to become paranoid with worry. Questioning if your teammates could see the event written into your skin. You worried that they would find it suspicious how you never let yourself be alone with just one of them outside of missions. Why you never wore the skin-tight compression shirts provided alongside your mission gear. Why you would never let any of them tend to your open wounds. Why you would shrivel away from their touch. Johnny's encouraging slaps on your shoulder after a successful mission or Gaz’s gentle hold on your arm, guiding you both out of a crowded bar, they were harmless. You knew this. But it still reminded you of the hauntingly familiar vice grip those men held on your limbs and neck. It hurt almost as much as the memories, the guilt of applying a fear to your teammates you had grown to love as your brothers. You knew none of them could hurt you, not intentionally. You tried to welcome their touch, allowing yourself the comfort of knowing nothing could happen to you as long as you were with your team. You longed for it, the normalcy of being cared for. But day’s like that ended with you curled up in the bathtub, the water burning as you rubbed your skin raw with the washcloth. Trying to eliminate the memory of their nails breaking your skin as they held you down, hurting you in the worst way a human can be hurt. The shame piled atop of you, shame for not fighting back, for allowing yourself to be hurt so violently, shame for never telling anybody, shame for fearing your friends for something they could never do. Sliding down the wall, you held your head between your knees. Hopefully if you made yourself as small as possible, the memories couldn’t hurt you anymore. You harshly pulled on the roots of your hair, rocking back and forth. Pained moans and whimpers were held back by the bite on your inner cheek. As if your assaulters' curses to keep quiet still compelled you into silence. 

You snapped your head forward at the sound of the metal door swinging open. A blurred figure blocked out the harsh yellow light straining from the hallway. Your survival instincts flared, forcing you to move as far away from the door as possible. The heel of your boots pushing you until your back hit against the cornered wall. You reached for your side-arm, cringing as you frantically patted your leg trying to find the handle. You recoiled as the figure ran towards you, shielding your face with your hands, their body now crouched in front of you. ‘Hey! Hey, it’s me! It’s me.. Fuck.. breathe Y/N, you gotta breathe love’ Gaz said, his hands finding your wrists to pull them away from your face. You thrashed and pulled against his firm grasp. ‘No! No.. I.. I can’t.. I can’t’ You panicked, his voice cutting through the thick haze of hysteria, pulling you out of your head and back into the dark, empty medical wing. Gaz reached out to hold your face in his calloused fingers, forcing you to look into his rich, worried eyes. You gripped his wrists as if to break his hold on you, but his warm touch gave you a point of centuring. It began to anchor you in the frenzy of fear you found yourself in. ‘See.. see it’s me, it’s just me..’  He swiped his thumbs over the swell of your cheeks, brushing away the stream of tears trailing down your face. ‘I’m gonna sit next to you ok?’ You forced yourself to slowly suck in a breath, letting it go with a shaky sob. Gaz counted your breaths for you, helping you slow down your heart rate until you could feel your hands again and the blurred edges of your vision dissipated. 

‘There.. Fuck Y/N..  scarred the shit outta me’ He said, nudging his shoulder into yours with a breathy chuckle. 

‘A flashback?’ He asked. It was a flashback, but not the kind he was privy to. You were conflicted whether to tell him that it was a flashback, but not one regarding your history as SAS soldiers. You subtly moved your chin side-to-side, glaring down at your hands. ‘Do.. Do you wanna talk about it?’ He leaned his head down to try and meet your eyes. You glanced at him, the lines of his forehead pulled tight with worry, his deep brown eyes gleaming in the dark corner you were now huddled in. You exhaled slowly, setting your head back against the wall. ‘Y-ya know how.. Umm, Cap’ was saying that I didn’t accept my SAS qualifications when I first got them.. How I took a year’s leave..’ ‘Yeah..’ ‘I.. something umm.. happened to me’ Your fists tightened as tears started to build up in the corners of your eyes. 

‘Ok, do you could.. Maybe explain more?’ Gaz asked, his eyes not moving away from your face. 

‘I.. I don’t.. I don’t know. I really didn’t t-think I would ever.. I mean it was so long ago it really doesn't matter’ You scoff, forcing yourself to chuckle as to ease the strain in Gaz’s expression. 

‘Don’t. Don’t you dare say that if it’s got you worked up like this’ Gaz says, taking your hand into his. You instinctively squeezed his fingers, a silent reminder to yourself that he wasn’t something you had conjured up in your head. Looking up at the ceiling, you tried to find the right way to explain the one thing you swore you would never explain to anyone.  

‘I had just f-finished up with the medic training.. Setting to graduate that week. The class wanted to go out for drinks, so I went back to the barracks to ya know.. get ready and.. and my door shuts and two of my classmates are standing there. They.. they start talking about.. about having a fucking threesome. I start laughing because what the fuck else are you supposed to do? And I say no. They start coming closer and I try to get to the door but they.. One of them pushed me and.. I.. I remember getting punched, I could taste blood and.. and I was on the floor and.. And then they were.. on top of me.. and… ’ 

The tears flowed freely down your face, your hand not being held by Gaz’s shook violently. It shocked you how fresh the memory appeared in your mind despite the years of effort you made black it out. ‘Oh.. Oh god.. Y/N..’ You felt fear pulse up your arms hearing Gaz’s voice break. ‘You.. you were..?’ The word couldn’t even form on his lips, it was so vile. But the relief of having someone else acknowledge it made more tears drip from your cheeks. You nod, watching Gaz’s eyes twinge wide. Not with realization but with pure grief. 

‘Can I.. please hug you?’ He sniffled, quicking brushing his eyes with the back of his palms. Immediately you slunk your head against his shoulder, his arms wrapping tightening around your torso with the other caressing the back of your head. You felt him kiss the top of your head, holding you close. You let your tears dampen his shirt. It was like a nail had finally been removed from your flesh, the wound now bleeding over your skin. The blood would stain you, that shame you had buried resurfacing in a daunting mess. But it was now a mess someone else could help clean. Gaz’s broken whisper suddenly cut through the tight silence.  ‘To.. to know that.. that you were hurt like that.. I wanna make those bastards bleed. I want to.. I-’ ‘Well…. n-now you know how i’ve been feeling for the last three years’ You sputter, finding your lips turning upwards through the tears. Gaz scoffs a laugh, running a hand over your shoulder. You both sat, Gaz keeping you close to his chest, as if that possibility of letting you go would cast you back into the memory of your assault. 

‘You.. did you.. tell someone?’ His voice was careful, approaching this realization of your past with the same caution he seemed to approach mission combat. You shook your head, pulling back from his chest to wipe your face free of new tears. 

‘I.. I couldn’t, I-I was scared I could get discharged and.. I didn’t want to risk losing my SAS qualifications’ 

‘What.. what happened to.. them? Do you know?’ ‘I.. I have no clue where they are, probably still soldiers…’ You watched the confusion and anger tighten Gaz’s jaw and furrow his brow. It was the same anger you would look back at in the mirror, months after the assault had happened. 

‘I.. I want to say “I'm sorry”, but I don’t even think that begins to express how fucking awful I feel for you’

‘I.. I just hope you don’t.. you don't think of me.. differently’  

He grabbed both of your hands in that moments, his thumbs brushing over your tattooed knuckles. ‘If that ever happens, you better fucking shoot me’ 

An awkward choked laugh fell from your lips. 

‘What they did to you, what they took from you.. it will never have anything to do with your smile or your kindness. And it was entirely not your fault. And nothing like that will ever happen to you again’ 

He squeezed your hands, you squeezed back. You had fantasized about words like this being said to you, to be held and comforted. The craving of feeling protected was a privilege you had finally been given back. It didn’t surprise you that Gaz would be the one to bring you this relief. Your wounds still bled, but now you had someone who could stitch them up for you. Someone who you had trusted enough to share the one thing you told yourself you never would. You had always had that, it only took the words to make it tangible. You hugged Gaz, bringing his head against your shoulder. And you both sat there, entangled in eachothers arms with the daunting possibility of what was to be done next but assurance that you wouldn’t have to approach that possibility on your own. 

ENOUGH TWINK ART THESE MEN ARE SAS the woke left is taking our men’s testosterone….AND WHY ARE RUDY AND ALEJANDRO SO WHITEWASHED IN FANART

Cod fandom PLEASE begging y’all to give these men their actual builds🙏🙏

Saggitarius, His elegance. As a Greater Creator, having time to make friends with creations is impossible. The pantheon will not allow such lower beings even converse with the beings that control the universe! But Saggitarius doesn't care. He thinks all creations deserve some tender love and care. From the brightest star, to the tiniest organism, all things in existence have great significance, just like him!

(I like to think Sol and him are buddies hehe @spaceraceart )