#of honor and force

[ninjigma]

Probably scheming, definitely having fun.

More Royalty AU, 'Of Honor and Force', because I can and I wanted to draw Anakin and Obi-Wan being a bit silly together in their youth.

Enjoy~

[obiscribbles]

Week 42 - January 14th, 2024 'Coastline' - Hollow Coves Spotify / YouTube

For ‘Of Honor and Force’, my Royalty AU! Knight Obi-Wan sneaking young prince Rex down to the coast for a quiet moment away from it all.

Honestly I put too much thought into the background, gotta stop doing that XD But what can I say, I'm obsessed with telling a story through my images, and every piece of the background was needed for that.

Enjoy!

[eldritch-ace]

Rewatching Kenobi is almost worth it just for the babies

Kofi | Commissions

[sillyswriting]

: ̗̀➛ ex-friend with benefits simon 'ghost' riley & friend with benefits johnny 'soap' mactavish - 01

𝖼𝗐 : 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾

ㅤㅤ     ㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤ collection - prev ⋆ next

simon hated how thin the walls of the barracks were. he hated the way he could hear your moans through the wall, hated the fact that it wasn't him getting those sounds out of you. but at the same time, he was the only one to blame.

from the moment you arrived on base, simon had his eyes on you—the cute new medic. he had been happily surprised when you told him you were not looking for anything serious; he wasn’t either. being military was complicated enough, no need to add a relationship into the mix. but it didn’t mean you two couldn’t have a bit of fun together, right?

at first, it was perfect. you spent your days patching up messy privates and bold sergeants, getting shouted at by your superior because you were not fast enough or you were being too nice. at the end of the day, you just needed simon to take control. he was not a selfish lover at all, always making sure you were well taken care of before he went for his own pleasure. after that, you'd be on your way to your own dorm, legs shaking a little. and it worked well, you didn't think you needed more.

simon didn't talk much. he listened when you ranted, but he always cut you off by kissing you or manhandling you onto his bed. that’s where you spent most of your time with him: his bed. and when you were done, he'd send you on your way. it didn't bother you; you weren't looking for commitment.

only one thing bothered you: he was hiding you. sure, you were not together, but he made sure his teammates didn't know he was rocking your world almost every night when you were on base. when you asked him why, it turned into a big argument—too big for just a situationship—so you had left his room without trying to talk him out of his misplaced anger. you thought you'd leave him be for a few days, and then you'd be back to normal. working on yourself, you accepted the fact that his team didn’t know about your arrangement. it didn’t matter.

it came as a shock when you made your way to his dorm, a couple days later, and stumbled upon one of the sergeants from another task force making her way out of simon's room on wobbling legs—a sight that reminded you of your own walks of shame. you had barged into his room, not caring that he might be naked, and demanded explanations.

"ya weren't 'round, needed a bit o' fun," was all he had said, shirtless and smoking a cigarette at his window. he didn't even look at you. it was like he knew you would be coming.

you weren't around? you had been working because two idiots decided to have a knife fight, leaving you with a lot of stitches and paperwork.

and it's not as if you were both back home; you were staying at the same fucking barracks.

on your way back to your room, you walked straight into johnny mactavish. and johnny being johnny, he flirted with you. and with you being hurt and humiliated, it worked. it didn't help that johnny was extremely good-looking and very friendly. hell, simon didn't even let you see his face.

now that you were having the same fun with someone who wasn't ashamed of you, you realized that it did pain you that simon wouldn't even dare look your way if he was with the 141. not only did johnny look at you, but he shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever was around, calling you "his bonnie," even though he knew you were not official. it felt good.

so this was how you ended up in johnny's bed. to be honest, you were feeling petty, so you were being loud, not even trying to quiet your moans a little. every time you had sex with simon, his hands were always somehow muffling your moans. but johnny? oh, johnny thrived on hearing every single noise you made. and you thrived knowing simon was hearing it all on the other side of the wall. at first, you had been shy, expecting johnny to want to hide you the same way simon did, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

he stopped everything, looking up from between your legs with a bit of concern. "doesnae feel guid?" he asked. and after you assured him that it did, in deed, feel really good, he added, "then dinnae get shy on me, bonnie. want tae hear ye," a cocky smirk plastered on his lips. and you swore he had never been that attractive.

well, maybe he had been more attractive when, after you two were done, he cuddled you, begging you to stay the night. another thing you'd never imagined simon doing. it was easy with johnny. it wasn't just sex. he'd take you out to eat junk food, you'd go to the movies next to the base, and then you'd go back and have your fun. you even heard him talk about you with gaz. and you'd talk about him with your colleagues.

when simon was a shadow, johnny was the sun—his presence impossible to conceal.

the problem was that johnny still had no bloody idea that simon had been there first. every time johnny mentioned your name, simon's mood would shift. he'd snap more often, telling johnny to shut up—something that wasn’t new, given johnny's tendency to talk a lot. what was new, however, was the tone. normally, when he was fed up with johnny running his mouth, simon would adopt a light, almost joking tone. but now? it was pure anger and frustration.

"whit got yer panties in a twist, L.T.?" johnny had asked one time, too fed up with simon's behavior. "maybe ye should find yerself a little birdie to ease yer nerves, ye know?" simon's reaction was immediate. he got up so quickly his chair fell back. johnny could see the way his lieutenant's breathing had picked up, his knuckles white as if he were about to hit soap. but he did no such thing. he just left. communication had never been simon's strong suit.

as johnny watched him leave, he knew he had gone too far. but, god, how could you both think he was that dumb? his room was just next to simon's. he had heard you all those times. he had seen you leaving simon's room. he had seen simon take another girl back. he knew.

johnny just decided that if simon was too dumb to treat a sweet little birdie like a goddess, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the same thing. johnny worshiped, that was what he did. and if someone hurt the things he liked, he attacked.

he was dead set on making you forget everything about his lieutenant. what was it they said?

finders keepers, losers weepers.

[azz-modeus]

The aftermath of bringing JJ back home. It’s okay the mullet grows back. Also, sorry I’m not as active it’s exam season and I am thriving.

[flowinlikearivah]

Assorted aftg doodles…. I have So many of these .. ft wymack who needs a sabbatical, mattneil hangout, pokemon au(s) and shitty catdrew bunneil doodle.

[briarscreek]

You had a blind date. On Valentine’s Day.

And they didn’t show up.

You had never felt so stupid in your life. Apparently, the only free day that you and your date had was on Friday. February 14th. Go figure.

The waiter had already come by 3 times to ask if you were ready to order or if you were going to leave. They didn’t say specifically to leave but you got the gist. Another person to take up their time and tips.

Frustrated tears began in the corner of your eyes while you packed your belongings, eager to get out of the humiliation of other couples stares and the cheap paper heart decor lining the restaurant.

This guy your friend set you up with seemed perfect. On paper at least. Kind, funny, flirty, and more is what she promised you.

It wasn’t until you were almost standing out of your booth that a very handsome man in a suit strode over in a huff. Mutton chopped beard and biceps for days, as he looked you in the eyes. God, his eyes were so blue.

“I apologize darling, I came straight from work and traffic was a nightmare.”

He kissed your cheeks quickly like an old friend.

“I wanted to message ya, but I didn’t think the cops would appreciate someone texting and driving on Valentine’s Day.”

Maybe that softened your heart. Just a little.

“You’re almost 45 minutes late.”

“It’ll be the first and last time I’ll ever be late, darling.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face slowly that time.

John, as he introduced himself, was kinder than you thought he’d be. Flirty at just the right moments and careful with his words, like he wanted to make sure you knew he meant every single word.

The date went amazingly well, he even made you giggle so much that you snorted and immediately felt embarrassed about it. He said he’d take that as a compliment as he pulled your hands away from your mouth.

Just as desert rolled around, you excused yourself to the bathroom and texted your friend, lettering her know you’re having an amazing time with John. Her next text came in just as you finished washing your hands.

who’s john?

Coming back to sit down at the booth, you immediately asked;

“You’re not my actual blind date, are you?”

He stopped mid chew of his chocolate torte, gaze flicking up to yours. Like a kid caught in a cookie jar.

“No, darling. I’m not. I actually had a take out order here but when I saw the prettiest bird in my life alone at a table, I couldn’t leave her.”

Your anger rose just a tad.

“So this was a pity date.”

“No.” He was so firm in his answer.

“I’d have asked you out anywhere if we crossed paths earlier but you were already dressed, sitting here waiting. I couldn’t pass on this golden opportunity, could I?”

Now you were glad that your actual date never showed up. John proved to be so much better, in more ways than one.

[lvrsfilm]

contrary to popular belief, Simon Riley does not do casual.

Nothing about him is casual. Nothing about his dedication to his work and his team, the bullets he would disperse and receive for them. Nothing about his routine, the way he shines his boots or folds his uniforms every week like clockwork. He is a cut and dry man, or at least he tries to be.

You, on the other hand, are the opposite of him in so many ways that at a glance people would assume you're the kind of person he hates. (He wishes that was the case, it'd make his life simpler). You bounce around base like a lit firecracker, your fuse sizzling quietly even during missions, never burning out. You never seem to tire, even after the particularly hard ones that leave him mute and holed up in his quarters for hours every day after.

You are casual. Coming to his room whenever you feel like it, knocking in a way that lets him know it's you and no one else. Bringing him tea, or bourbon, the occasional meal if you can convince him. He doesn't see how you can think it's casual. Slipping off your boots, leaving them half laced at his door.

Slipping into his bed. Laying next to him in silence, just so he isn't alone. Bandaging any cuts that aren't severe enough to warrant him going to medical. The soft skin of your hands making practiced movements over his scarred skin that only you've seen. He is not a casual man. And you don't seem to have figured that out yet.

No other man on base interested in you would even entertain the thought of pursuing you, for fear of Simon somehow hearing their thoughts and stringing them up by their necks to show the others what happens if they touch what's his. Everyone else can see the way he looks at you, the way he lets you in.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You don't ask why he lets you in, and he doesn't ask why you keep coming back.

He doesn’t know how to tell you that you’re the first person to make him feel human in a long time. That every soft knock on his door chips away at the walls he’s built, cement crumbling under your touch, a feeling akin to warm liquid gold seeping through the cracks, running over his scar tissue. Like he's a victim of Midas. Exposing him to something he thought he’d buried years ago. You remind him what it’s like to be vulnerable, to crave something more than routine and mission reports.

And it terrifies him.

Because Simon Riley does not do messy, either.

But you? You’re a storm. Chaotic and unpredictable, rushing into his life like you’ve always belonged there. He doesn’t know what to do with you, how to keep you at arm’s length without losing the warmth you bring into his otherwise cold existence. So he lets you in, over and over, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.

Tonight is no different.

The knock comes—a rhythm so familiar now that it’s practically a lullaby. He already knows it’s you before he opens the door. You’re standing there, as casual as ever in civvies, with that cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten in ways he refuses to name.

“Thought you could use some company,” you say, holding up a thermos of tea like a peace offering.

He steps aside, wordlessly, because what else is he supposed to do? Tell you to leave? Pretend he doesn’t want you here? He’s not that good a liar, not around you.

You slip past him, kicking off your boots, leaving them next to the doorway as always, and make yourself at home like you belong here. Like you belong with him. And maybe you do.

He watches as you set the thermos on his desk and plop onto his bed, laying on your back and stretching like a cat, looking at him expectantly. It’s a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes. An invitation. A promise.

He lays down, careful to leave just enough space between you to keep the illusion of distance. But then you lean into him, shoulder brushing his arm, and the illusion shatters. His resolve crumbles.

“You came straight here when we got back,” you say softly, tilting your head to look at him. “skipped dinner, I saved a plate for you from the mess.”

It’s such a simple statement, but it cuts through him like a blade.

He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. He looks at you like you're a puzzle he can't solve. Like he needs to figure put your angle, figure out why you're treating him so softly. For a second, the air between you feels impossibly fragile, as if even breathing too hard might shatter it.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, his voice low, almost gruff, like the admission costs him something.

You tilt your head at him, your lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. “Do what?”

He exhales sharply, as though frustrated, though it’s unclear if it’s with you or himself. “This… whatever it is you’re doing. Looking out for me. Bringing me tea. Sitting here. I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know,” you reply simply, your tone disarming in its honesty. “I do it because I want to.”

The words hang in the air between you, unassuming yet weighty, like they’re daring him to refute them. He doesn’t, because he can’t. You've made up your mind. There’s a stubbornness in your voice that he knows too well—one that he’s realized he has no defense against.

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters after a moment, turning his gaze toward the ceiling. “It’s a waste.”

Your smile falters, just slightly, but it doesn’t vanish. “You’re not a waste.”

He flinches at that, so subtly you might have missed it if you weren’t so attuned to him. His fingers twitch on the mattress, his eyebrows furrowing beneath the mask. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t argue, but his silence says enough. You press your lips together, chewing the bottom corner slightly as you debate whether to push further. You decide to anyway, because that’s what you do.

You grin, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he knows you’re about to say something cheeky. But instead, you surprise him again by reaching over to touch his hand—just a fleeting brush of your fingers, so brief he almost convinces himself it didn’t happen.

He closes his eyes, his jaw tightening, but he doesn’t pull away. That’s something, you think.

You turn onto your side, facing him fully now, your fingers brushing against the back of his hand. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch this time, so you let your touch linger—gentle, steady, unassuming.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you add quietly, almost as if it’s a promise.

When he finally opens his eyes again, there’s something raw and unguarded in his gaze, something that makes your chest ache. He doesn’t say anything—doesn’t thank you, doesn’t argue—but the way his fingers curl ever so slightly against yours feels like an answer.

[lazychimken]

What is Bumblebee and Bulkheads relationship?

Their friendship goes way back from before the war, before their codenames even. Bee used to deliver packages for the energon farm Bulkhead worked at, but most of them were heavy and Bulk felt bad that Bee had to carry them from long distances. He would invite Bee to take a break and refuel and they hit it off from there.

They became even closer when they were drafted and Bee decided to follow Bulk’s career as a spacebridge technician. Since the space bridges were an advantage the Autobots had over Decepticons, their work was crucial and dangerous. They would watch each other’s backs, take hits meant for the other, and overall are extremely dependent on one another. Hopefully nothing happens that forces them to separate!!

[wombywoo]

/my head is bloody, but unbowed/

[sleepyvib-es]

no cus i truly believe that if ethan had lived he and percy would become really good friends after the events of the giant war. he notices percy is no longer spewing "but the gods are the good guys!!" rhetoric bs, which makes him much more pleasant to be around to ethan

[ninjigma]

Snow days require summer art, so this was todays fun little piece. :3 Please enjoy this lost prince Gree from my royalty AU, 'Of Honor and Force', while I wait to see if my power goes out.

[teletubbyinlipstick]

More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹

(ps, love your writing!)

OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.

Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.

Not in their own home.

Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.

They all do.

Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.

Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.

It's raw. It sucks.

And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.

He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.

Someone hurt you.

Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.

The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.

Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.

"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.

Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.

"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"

"John."

Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.

"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.

Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.

A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.

Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.

"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."

It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.

"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.

"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."

Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.

[eldritch-ace]

POV: The last jedi (and jedi adjacent) keep picking up stray "enemies"

Bonus Ezra lmao

Kofi | Commissions

[hasello]

learning sign language

I like to think Sonic used to be mute before meeting Tails. As he was opening up and slowly starting to speak - they just learned sign language to talk in the meantime (I also like the idea of Tails teaching Sonic how to read and write). Sonic sometimes goes mute again, especially when he’s stressed/tired, so he signs regularly. He knows how frustrating it is to not be able to communicate your needs properly, so he decided to teach Metal too.

here’s the au

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

sorry im back lol. thinking about 141 sleeping habits!! (not sexual)

price has a tried and true bedtime routine. so much so he gets extremely grumpy when it's not followed to the letter. wants to be showered and cuddled by a specific time. price likes to watch you play games on your phone/console while he lays on your shoulder before he decides he wants you to himself. price will pull you into his chest and kiss your neck and back softly until he gets you all soft and pliant. whispers how he loves you into your ear before he puts his head between your shoulder blades. grabs one of your hands and interlaces your fingers. can't sleep well without having his little love all wrapped up.

i feel like ghost would be inconsistent in bedtime. he sometimes goes to bed after you do, rather than with you, so he'll wrap himself around you. he likes to rub your back sometimes and smell your hair. when you guys go down together, he faces himself towards you and holds your hands. simon is very reverent and will worship you at any given opportunity. however, on the rare occasion he's out before you, simon LOVES when he wakes up as little spoon. makes him so soft knowing you want to touch him as much as he wants you. (extra: simon loves it when you have one of his big tees on. feel like he'd "get you sleepwear" and it's just a well worn shirt of his.)

johnny... the sudsy boy. i know he just sprawls all over the bed. loves for you to be on top of him or him on you. can't stay consistently still so you both move around a lot on the bed. probably will be on the other side of the bed when you wake up. however, he gets pissy when you try to separate from him during the night. you're his, bonnie, stop trying to get him off. needs to have a handful of you at all time for peace of mind. johnny loves you so much and needs that physical reassurance!

gaz is so romantic. i feel it in my blood. def takes several pages out of prices book, yet is still distinct. will always go to bed when you do unless he can't, doesn't matter if he's wired from caffeine or drowsy when you're not. he loves to sit on the toilet seat while he watches you ready for bed. kyle loves when you lay nose to nose beside each other with the lights out. loves it when you card your fingers through his hair and whisper little praises to him. mumbles them back, placing little kisses on your face as he wraps you close to him.