Our Flag Means Death Season 2 Episode 1.

I drew more girls bc .. I like girls

Melvika Headcannons: Domestic Night Routine Edition

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Content Warning: Domestic fluff, cuddling, non-sexual intimacy, established relationship (wlw), mentions of smoking and alcohol, SFW

wc: 1281 sorryyy

🎶Promise Me- Kiana Ledé🎶

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Before Bed…

- Mel will always have candles or incense lit. If Sevika smokes, sometimes she’ll do it in the room. Sometimes Mel gives her that “Uh uh.” look and she’ll take it on the balcony. But Mel secretly loves how the scents will mix and linger on Sevika—patchouli, tobacco, amber, and a hint of vanilla~

- Mel will play classical music or jazz on her little record player. Sevika always complains “You gonna play that racket again? They don’t even sing.” But she always seems more calm after Mel puts it on, especially with jazz.

- Sevika always showers first, because Mel will take an hour in the bathroom. She has one less arm and way less products than Mel (barely any); anything more than 20 minutes for her is excessive. But this way works for them.

- Mel likes walking into the bathroom after Sevika showers because it’s already warmed up for her, and she can still smell Sevika’s soap in the air.

- And Sevika can listen to Mel hum to the music in the shower as she gets dressed.

- When Mel comes out, a cloud of steam always follows her, the scent of her fancy soaps quickly fill the room.

- Before Mel is dry, before she even touches herself, she always offers to apply anti-chafe salve on Sevika’s arm where the metal plates are imbedded into her skin.

- Sometimes she won’t ask, she’ll just pick up the jar and Sevika will get into position on the loveseat at the end of the bed.

- When the air is profound like this, they won’t speak. Mel will still hum, and she will take her time massaging Sevika’s scarred skin around her plates.

- They often look into each other’s eyes, exchanging silent remarks like “Does this feel alright?” and “Thank you.”

- The best part of it all? When Sevika gets to watch Mel do her night routine.

- She will gladly sit back on the chaise and read while Mel props a smooth brown leg up on the stool to her vanity to rub her butters and creams all over her body.

- Sevika loves when Mel wears this one midnight blue silk robe. It compliments her mahogany skin and gold armor perfectly, she always looks lavish and delicious in it.

- “Are you really going to watch me apply cream to my legs?” Mel would say incredulously, stopping mid stroke on her propped leg. She’s luminous, her blue robe hangs open almost down to her navel, her full cleavage exposed.

- “Yeah. Now less talking, more rubbing.” Sevika replies, a smirk on her mouth hidden behind her book as she watches Mel with sniper eyes.

When it’s Time to Sleep…

- Sevika loves to play in Mel’s hair, or graze her metal fingers over Mel’s back.

- One time, Mel missed a gold cuff on one of her locs.

- Sevika, knowing that she removes all of them before she sleeps, gently coaxed it off while Mel slept. Mel smiled tenderly when she awoke the next morning to find Sevika gone and a single gold cuff on her side of the bed.

- When Mel sleeps on her chest, Sevika always practices her restraint with her mech hand by seeing how carefully she can twirl the ends of Mel’s hair.

- It was a subconscious habit she wasn’t aware she’d picked up.

- One night, Mel stirred as she slept on her chest. When Sevika looked over, her mech hand was pulling her hair. She instantly felt bad; defective.

- Sometimes it had a mind of its own. She’s been practicing ever since.

- Only got caught once when Mel’s hair got tangled in the joints of her metal fingers, and she had to wake her up in the middle of the night so they could cut it.

- It was NOT a pretty sight.

- But Mel can’t stay mad at Sevika; she actually thought it was kinda sweet.

- Now whenever Sevika doesn’t initiate, Mel will plop Sevika’s mech hand on top of her head to scratch her scalp.

- “Do I need to fire you? Hop to it.” Mel scolds. It’s always met with a sarcastic “Yes ma’am” or “As you wish, princess.” from Sevika. Puts her right to sleep every time.

- Speaking of sleep, Sevika generally doesn’t do a lot of it, even less when she’s with Mel. Although the Medarda Manor is heavily guarded, Sevika takes pride in staying up to watch over Mel while she sleeps.

- If something were to happen, or if someone were to break in, at least she can be awake and be a last line of defense between Mel and any potential danger. She loves watching Mel sleep.

- Not just to ensure her safety, but also because she’s so freaking cute.

- Sevika will never tell her, and it doesn’t always happen, but Mel talks in her sleep. Murmurs really, but it’s always with the same attitude and inflection as if she were wide awake.

- Sevika loves to watch her eyebrows scrunch or her nose twitch, it’s fucking adorable.

- Sevika knows that sleep is a luxury. In Zaun, you can never get too comfortable, your reflexes have to always be on and sharp. Only someone of such a high status that could afford to be so guarded could sleep so easily, so unaware and relaxed.

- But Sevika liked it this way. She liked when Mel was relaxed, not stressing about the politics of the day or the issues of tomorrow. She liked that Mel felt comfortable enough with her to fall asleep, to dream. Even though Mel was definitely a spoiled princess, Sevika didn’t mind. Mel was her princess.

- They definitely cuddle, no matter what Sevika says.

- And Sevika is definitely the little spoon as much as Mel is.

- Like come on, Mel was on Jayce like a backpack after they banged. She loves to express her affection through physical touch, and Sevika is touch-famished. She loves the feeling of Mel’s skinny little fingers tickling and caressing all over her.

- If Mel does fall asleep on her chest, Sevika loves to reach down with her flesh hand and hook Mel’s thigh over her.

- Mel is more often than not wearing some kind of silk nightgown or négligée, most of them custom made with slits on either side to let her gold armor show through.

- Drives Sevika fucking crazy.

- She loves to kneed her flesh hand into Mel’s strong thigh when they lay like this.

- Sevika can’t fully describe the feeling she gets when she runs her hand over Mel’s armor.

- It feels almost too intimate, closer than being inside her or kissing her.

- Happy? Special? Sevika didn’t know, but it definitely made her feel good that she got to touch Mel this way; that Mel let her touch her this way, that she wanted her to.

- When Sevika does sleep, and it’s a deeper sleep, she snores like a lumberjack.

- Most times Mel finds it endearing or blocks it out, but some nights she can’t take it and Sevika wakes up with a smack upside her head or a pillow over her face.

- “Were you actually gonna smother me?” Sevika asks groggily, rubbing her eye and blinking up at Mel as she straddles her with her pillow in the air.

- “Still considering it.” Mel says as she slides off of her.

- If it becomes too much, Mel will make her a special Noxian sleepy tea, one her older brother would make her when she had nightmares as a child.

- Sevika hates it, and will only drink it if she mixes her whiskey into it.

- Mel lets her, because sleepy bed-headed Sevika holding a tiny tea cup and saucer makes Mel’s heart swoon.

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I need them together so bad.

OMG YES THIS IS ADORABLE

Please consider...Izuku has a HUGE crush on Shouto, but is too 🐔💩 to actually do anything about. So he just stares hopelessly at Shouto, day in, and day out.

Mirio, as Izuku's "Official" Big Brother, teases Izuku about his crush on Shouto relentlessly (but kindly) and pesters him to talk to Shouto.

Eri (Izuku's "Official" Little Sister) watches all this with some confusion before quietly walking over to Shouto and asking him if he likes Izuku in the same way that Izuku likes Shouto.

Izuku's soul promptly leaves his body while Mirio falls to the ground laughing.

Shouto looks up at Izuku with a small and soft smile and answers, "Yes."

Omg I am considering, this is hilarious XD

'I don't get what the big idea is! You like him, he obviously likes you, just talk to the man.' Mirio's easy smile is amazing sometimes, but right now, Izuku wants to take Eri's highlighter and rub it all over his stupid face.

'Not everyone can confess to their best friend like it's the easiest thing in the world!' He says instead, waving his hands dramatically as a blush decorates his cheeks. 'T-Todoroki-kun and I are nothing like you and Amajiki-senpai! Also, be quiet, he's literally sitting over there!'

'I'm sorry? I can't hear you over all the excuses.' Mirio cups his ear, still grinning. 'Look, just go up to Todoroki and tell him you love him and want to kiss him and be boyfriends. What's the worst that could happen?'

'He could hate me forever for ruining our friendship.' Izuku turns back to the colouring book and presses down a little too hard with his pencil. He begins reciting a list of reasons why confessing is a bad idea, until realisation suddenly hits him. He turns his head to the empty seat next to him. 'Wait. Where's Eri?'

Mirio just smiles brighter, while Izuku frantically scans the common room, only to find her sitting in Todoroki's lap. He takes a moment to appreciate just how adorable they look - Todoroki's hand is supporting her waist while Eri plays with his hair - until he registers that she's just mouthed "Deku".

Oh no...

He immediately sprints over, using every ounce of control not to summon One for All, but it's too late.

'Deku-san thinks you're really handsome and wants to kiss you and he told Lemillion-san that he loves you and wants to be your boyfriend.' She twirls her own hair with her thumb, before sheepishly looking up at Todoroki. 'Do you love Deku-san the same way he loves you?'

Izuku promptly trips over his own two feet and slams face-first onto the floor in front of them, content to stay there for all of eternity.

Well, this is the end of our friendshi-

'Yeah.' A quiet, albeit confident voice fills the silence and Izuku looks up to find dichromatic eyes boring into his own, warm and kind, while a slight flame flickers from his scarred cheek. 'I do feel the same, Eri.'

'T-Todoroki-kun?' Izuku all but squeaks when a soft smile stretches across that beautiful face. He's distantly aware of Mirio's howling laughter several metres away, but tries to ignore it. 'Y-You l-love me too? Really?'

Todoroki raises an eyebrow, smile vanishing.

'Of course, Midoriya. I'm not gonna lie to a child.'

this was my first thought when i saw this scene so i had to 💀

and its a break from angst too, so its a win-win 😭✋

((the first two screenshots are from a beautiful tiktok by sunnyvids.yt soo creds: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJbH1f6Y/ ))

absolutely.

he saw Gerard Way do it and he said ‘’my turn’’

by theorising (being delulu) :D

how are we coping guys

“Showing Athena around the Greek Camp”

Recorded by Odysseus Laertides (1700 b.C.)

Thinking about what a power move it would be for a trans man to name himself *father’s name* junior…. like yeah dad I’m your son right?

this fic was absolutely amazing, i literally binged it in one sitting holy shit

ten reasons (to go to michigan): bonus

authors note and chapter below the cut. thanks for loving this little au so much.

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read the fic here

notes: it is short, and thats largely because i could easily get carried away, drumming up countless scenarios of their little life together for the time being.

my #brand is kind of sort of love stories. and my mission statement is always this idea of...love comes with an asterisk of like "it doesn't always work this way". one of the biggest messages of ten reasons was for remus to learn how much of himself he had given away in a previous relationship, so much so that the only place he had to go at the beginning of the fic with a drop of familiarity was his childhood town. and you can see this with his speech in particular, how hesitant he is to give anything of himself away. and at the end of the fic, even though he's being brave and starting this relationship for real (and starting it the same way he started his first one that ended so poorly), he also knows this time around more of himself and more of what belongs to him.

he has an apartment of his own. he has a successful book that he is allowed to be proud of. he has the upper peninsula. he knows which friends he can count on (and one of them happens to be Marlene). so yes, it was a love story...but it also wasn't. at the end of the fic, remus knows this time around if it all goes to shit, he'll be okay.

(we could also say the same for sirius, who's last serious relationship was when he was high all the time and wasn't himself. its a love story...but its also not.)

without further ado...

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“Harry, let’s go!” Sirius said down the hall, “Your butt needs to be out that door in 10 minutes!”

“Telling me when I need to leave doesn’t help me go any faster!” Harry shouted back and Remus sipped his coffee at the table across from Regulus, both of them used to the morning hurricane that was Sirius trying to get a fourteen, going on fifteen-year-old out the door in a timely fashion, neither of them offering any help. In fact, most mornings, Regulus was content to make Sirius’ job harder with dry comments, occasionally sticking out a foot from underneath the table to see if Sirius would trip over it in the hurry. Remus was always impressed that Sirius managed to dodge it, and managed to get Regulus back later in the day. Remus had witnessed Regulus fall to the ground due to an assault from his brother more than a few times. Despite how early they were, and that Remus could’ve stayed in Sirius’s room, he found it easier to get up with the rest of the house, realizing that once Harry was out the door, the morning slowed down significantly and Sirius made a better cup of coffee than he ever could.

It never got old though.

The morning dance of Sirius packing a lunch (though these days it also consisted of giving Harry a wad of cash and hoping for the best); of Harry stumbling down the hall still half-asleep with his backpack over his shoulder; the banter and the reminders for the day.

“I’m here, I’m going, it’s fine,” Harry said, emerging from his bedroom, his shoes already on, but his school tie undone and the blazer over his arm.

“Seven minutes,” Sirius said, “You remember which train to take?”

“Yes, I’ve been doing it for months now.”

“Homework?”

“Packed,” Harry said, grabbing a bar from the pantry and an orange from the counter that went into his backpack as well. “Coffee?”

“You’re small enough, kid.”

“That was uncalled for. I’m growing,” Harry scowled and Sirius shrugged “I am! Tell him!” He looked at the table for help.

“I’m not telling him anything,” Regulus said, his hands wrapped around his own cup of coffee as he eyed his nephew, “But I am telling you that over my dead body are you walking out the door looking like you’ve rolled out of bed.”

“I mean, I did,” and Remus snorted at the reply. There was something so refreshing about getting to know a teenager and having them as part of his life. No punches were ever pulled, no stone of opportunity for back-talk and sass unturned. But Harry was kind like Sirius, in the way he held doors open for others when they went out together; the way it was always thank you and please when he meant it. The way he stopped what he was doing to listen if he thought it was important.

“I’m not above tucking in your shirt for you, Harry,” Reg put down his coffee, “Fix yourself, please.”

“Sirius said I have five minutes!”

“Four now,” Sirius said and Harry sighed, dropping his backpack to the ground in a huff, Remus smiling silently over his cup of coffee. The adjustment to private school uniforms was one of Harry’s biggest complaints. Though from the rest of what he had observed, and been told from Sirius, the smaller class sizes and the available sports teams were worth it. Harry had friends. Harry had a girlfriend. Harry was no longer the kid whose parents died so he moved, and was just another kid. “And it’s only two if it’s the subway, but I’m always happy to drive and can cut the time in half”

“You shouldn’t brag about that,” Remus said under his breath, Sirius hearing and giving him a wink.

“No one wears the uniform right…” muttered Harry, tucking in his shirt, trying to keep still as Sirius knotted the tie around his neck.

“Well, no one isn’t my nephew so,” Regulus shrugged, “Sorry about it.”

“Can you divorce your relatives? Can I sign a petition for an Uncle who isn't such a--"

"Shhh, it's too early, it's too early," Sirius's voice masked the undoubtedly unpleasant thing Harry was saying to Regulus, the man not entirely able to conceal his smile.

“Shame,” Harry pulled a face at Regulus, and Regulus returned it, the comments all said without bite behind them. Harry picked his bag up again. “Can I go? Anything else? Should I curtsy? Spitshine my shoes really quick?”

“Your shoes are fine, actually.” Regulus commented, “Would love the curtsy though, let me get my phone out so I can have it on video.” Harry ignored his uncle, turning back to Sirius who had caught his face in his hands. The same way they always did before Harry left for the day.

“Text me when you get to school, I love you so much, don’t get caught kissing in the halls again, babe.”

“I know the rules, babe. Love you, babe.” Harry rolled his eyes, Sirius still managing to kiss him on the side of the head before he walked out the door entirely, “Bye Reg, Bye Remus!”

Remus gave a wave. Thinking back to the mornings where Harry didn't acknowledge his existence at the table until after 10am. As if he wanted to pretend his godfather wasn't in a relationship serious enough that warranted sleepovers. Thinking back to the time Harry had cornered Remus by the shared bathroom and sized him up.

I like you. But if you hurt him, I will leave terrible public reviews on your book and drag your name through the mud. Don't underestimate the power of a teenager with a smartphone. Yeah?

As far as Remus knew, he was still holding up his end of the bargain.

Once the door shut, Sirius let out a breath, running a hand over his hair to tie it up.

“That’s an Olympic sport, I think. And I’d medal in it,” he said, walking over to Remus for the first time that day to wrap his arms around his shoulders. Sirius was always up first, and by the time Remus made it to the kitchen, the day at the races was on and consisted of lunch making and double-checking for permission slips and schedules for sports practices. Remus didn’t mind waiting for the morning kisses though. They always came.

Long gone were the days he once sat wondering if affection would come before the nighttime. Before substances and loneliness. Long gone were the days someone reached for Remus because he was there and not because they wanted to.

“Were you really going to let him walk out the door looking like that?”

“Careful, your snob is showing, Reg,” Sirius replied from where he had gone to fix his own cup of coffee, the scent of Sirius’s shampoo lingering somewhere around Remus’s shoulder. Only a few feet away and Remus already missed the weight of arms on his shoulders.

“I’m serious.”

“If you want to be the one who wakes him up after he shuts off his alarm, and makes sure he doesn’t leave his brain in his bedroom with his homework every morning, by all means. I will gladly take over and make sure his shirt’s tucked in before he leaves the house. Drinking coffee leisurely at the table.”

“How else would you get the gold then?” Regulus asked, sharing a smart look with Remus. Sirius came over to join them, immediately taking Remus’s hand and putting it at the back of his neck, Remus’s fingers running along black curls. Sirius’s eyes met his, a soft smile crossing his lips as he picked up his coffee mug.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning.”

It wasn’t every night that they spent together, and it wasn’t every morning either, phone calls and text messages bridging the gap between time spent underneath sheets, bodies wrapped around each other like trees grown together. It wasn’t every day they spent together, Remus having his own schedule that was being steadily filled out by meetings and interviews for book podcasts, the rush of finishing first returning quickly when his name stayed on top of the Best Seller list for months.

There was no resentment when Remus was gone. Just Tupperware of Remus’s favorite cookies tucked away into his suitcase to find for later. Just embarrassing Welcome Home signs at the airport. Just long kisses in airports, like they do in all the movies. Just daily reminders of what he was coming back to.

Miss you.

Proud of you.

I love you.

My novelist.

There was no insecurity (well...less insecurity) when Sirius was absent during lacrosse playoffs or what Remus learned was called installation week and Sirius would be at the studio for days at a time with his phone on Do Not Disturb mode, only coming up for air for childcare. Remus left the reminders on those days.

I hope you’re still getting sleep.

Harry is welcome at my apartment if you need more time. I don't know anything about teenagers but I have a television and a full pantry.

Friday take-out is on me

I love you

No matter what, they always came back together. Words dissolved into each other's arms and they caught up on the hours, the day, sometimes the week; hands just thankful to be touching once more, eager to feel warm skin again.

It wasn’t perfect, though Remus thought some days that this painfully realistic Hallmark movie that involved sleepless nights, lingering drug habits, grief, crippling anxiety, and a teenager who told the truth no matter what, was still light years better than the faux-fairytale he was in for his twenties. Remus was still repairing trust in others after being badly burned. Sirius was still learning to ask for help instead of burning out.

It wasn’t happy ever after, because that simply didn’t exist, as much as Remus would look at Sirius on his bad days and see a knight in shining armor.

But it was happy.

It was happy.

emo boi

The Chemically-imbalanced-Romance

VIRGIL (*⁰▿⁰*)