Rendering Progress Of This Wip 🤵👰

Mermay|MyLaurie|Day May 25

I know I am a day late and will probably be for the next ones too, like the theme is ‘ Strawberry’ today and I got no strawberries! 🥲🍓

Anywho, I really liked the idea of Laurie and Michael being some type of oceanic predator and settled for an Orca and Leopard Seal. It just seemed to fit, especially since Orcas are known as “Killer Whales” and Leopard seals are hunters in their own right! But, Orcas have been known to hunt Leopard seals on occasion too and pairing that with the thrill of the chase?! 💋🤌

🔪🪡🖤✨

When Bucky hugged Steve for the first time since he got the serum, they were alone in a tent. They had just got back to the base camp after their miles long walk back from the hydra base and they were both exhausted.

Steve is situating himself around the very nice, fancy tent that he insisted on sharing and Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off him since he saw him from the table he was strapped onto. Steve. Little Steve. Steve who got sick every winter and who's asthma played up every summer. Steve who had been 5'4 and had remained as such since he was 14. Steve who got into too many fights and never won but not once for lack of passion.

Bucky has to say something, because he hasn't been saying anything since escaping the base and now he feels like he's about to boil over. "Steve"

The same big blue eyes he's always known greeted him and were quick to lace with concern. "You okay, Buck?"

And generally speaking no, Bucky was not okay, he'd been experimented on, he'd been taken by the enemy and strapped down to a goddamn table and he couldn't even remember half of what they did to him there.

For all Bucky knows he could drop dead at any moment but he isn't thinking about that, because he's thinking about how Steve is here, in front of him, all 6'2 of him. He's thinking about how the breath exiting his mouth doesn't follow with wheezing, or how he can take the full rib expanding breaths when he needs it without coughing until there are tears forcing themselves out of his eyes.

Bucky steps forward, his hand gently presses against the expanse of Steve's chest. He stops himself from gawking considering the fact you could park an eighteen wheeler on this thing, he even opens his mouth to say just that but then he feels Steve's heart beat, steady and pumping under his palm.

It's only slight considering the amount of muscle and thick bone in the way but he can feel it all the same and it's not stuttering and irregular. It's pumping blood, lots of blood wherever Steve needs it, constantly and in all the right places instead of spending most of its time in the lowest point of the body.

If Steve were to get sick this heart would help him get better instead of having to fight to keep itself working, and his new lungs might get congested but they wouldn't spasm every time he needed a breath of fresh air. Steve won't be laying in bed all winter sick and out of his mind with any and every illness that has always loved making his life a living hell.

Steve is healthy.

And suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Bucky clears his throat and blinks away any escaped liquid from his eyes, which are very pointedly looking towards his hand. Because if he looks up at Steve and sees those blue eyes all concerned, seeing right through him like they always do, he really will loose it.

"You're okay.." He mumbles mostly to himself.

It comes off as a statement more than anything and a choked out one at that but Steve knows, because he always knows what Bucky is trying to get at. He places his hand over Bucky's wrist and just holds him, his hand is steady and must be magical because Bucky grows calm at the touch.

"I'm okay."

Feeling himself falter at the affirmation, he leans in, arms wrapping around the waist he could once circle completely with one arm. But he almost backs out as quickly as he started it, the foreign body giving the wrong signals, like hugging a coworker or a distant relative you see once a decade.

But taking a deep breath to centre himself, Steve smelled like he always did, plus the scent of cheap soap hardly lingering, faded from the long day they both just had.

And when he ran his hands over his back he could feel the familiar humps of his spine and count them all the same. Even Steve's hands find the same spot on Bucky's back as they always used to, where his ribs end and his back start to dip in at the start of his waist.

Bucky can still reach the hair at the base of Steve's head and run his fingers through it like he used to see Steve's ma do when they were young.

Now Steve sighs into the hug and Bucky squeezes tighter since he knows he won't be doing any damage. They stay like that for a long time in their own personal world, the centre of their own solar system, everything else moving around them, floating within their orbit.

When they pull back, Bucky's hands linger on Steve's waist for longer then they should and when he looks up Steve's eyes are so full of admiration but his nose and eyebrows are scrunched up like he's got something to say.

Bucky takes his hands back to his sides. "what?"

"We aren't going to leave each other again, okay?" He says it so sure, like they aren't going to be in the heat of battle every other day but Bucky wants it just as bad as he does so he nods and smiles.

"You're stuck with me pal, I'm not going anywhere"

I've been fascinated with Barb's character since I finished Fallout and I'm glad that she hasn't been completely vilified by the fandom. Because I cannot help but sympathise and see her reasoning, even if it is horrific, because in the end she parallels Cooper.

Something people don't take into account is that they were both pawns of Vault-Tec, only Barb went along with it because she got something out of it. She got to protect her family, something that seems to be the most important thing to both her and Cooper.

Because neither of them could've stopped Vault-Tec. Neither of them could've stopped the bombs from falling.

If Barb had spoken out, had disagreed, all it would've done would guarantee that her family would die. We saw how Cooper's career/life was ruined after he assumingly spoke out against them. If you speak out against Vault-Tec, you lose your job, your friends, you are labelled a communist or communist sympathiser, and (in Barb's case) you lose access to a Vault which can guarantee that you and your family survive the nuclear war that everyone knows is inevitable. The war was always going to happen. Someone was always going to drop the bombs. Barb was just another cog in the machine, and she would've simply been replaced.

Barb had no power. Either she played along and her family lived, or they died. I don't think Barb wanted the war, and we can tell that her love for Cooper and Janey is genuine. She wanted to protect her family and keep them alive.

And I cannot blame her for being complicit. It was an awful thing, and Cooper had every right to feel betrayed. But I don't blame Barb either. Because I think a lot of people would've done the same thing in her position.

She traded the many for the few, for Janey and Cooper. The exact same way we see Cooper, two hundred years later, trading life after life for his own survival, so he can keep going and find his family. They would both tear down the world and ruin countless lives so they could survive, for Janey.

𝘮𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 🦋

I'm team Ghoulcy, sorry (if you're on Twitter, follow me for a lot more Fallout screaming)

Hii love, how are you? I have a little request if thats ok.

Gilgamesh has the most horrific nightmare ever, Thena dying in his arms, there is blood and she is in pain and when she closes her eyes one last time Gil finally wakes up, only to find Thena missing from their bed, he searchs for her like a mad man, only to find her in the kitchen drinking water, he picks her up and refuses to let her go for the rest of the day.

Gilgamesh shoots up out of bed. He's gasping for breath, sweat on his brow. He presses his palm to his chest and flexes his fingers. He looks over at Thena's side of the bed, frantic for her presence.

She isn't there.

It's still warm, though. He can see where the weight of her body wrinkles the bed sheets and he can smell the scent of her fondness for the garden. His hand slides over to it, feeling the latent warmth of her presence.

He throws back the covers, desperate to see her with his own eyes. He can still feel the weight of her body in his arms--the dead weight. What it was like to look at her face, still and motionless and cold. He can vividly recall the feeling of carrying his wife to her funeral pyre and watching her body be consumed by flame.

"Thena?!"

He runs out of their bedroom, ripping the door off its hinges--weak things in comparison to his unchecked strength. He looks around their home frantically. His heart is searching for her, the Cosmic Energy in his veins screaming for her.

She's here--he can feel her presence! It exists, she's close, and even if she weren't, her existence would tether his and pull, like ends of the same string.

"Thena!" he calls out again, moving into the kitchen. He can see everything the way they left it last night. Their chairs are pushed in lazily, his apron is thrown over the edge of the sink after she told him to hang it up where it belongs yet again. He turns, ready to break this door open too.

Then she walks in. She's unaware of the nightmare that nearly sent him into hysterics. She walks in, barefoot as always, her long white dress dancing around her legs. The sun streams in behind her, lighting her bright blonde hair like an angel's halo.

"What are you yelling about?" she asks as if he's been shouting at the tv again. "I could hear you all the way from the water tower. I just looked over the garden, although th-!"

She stumbles, although any creature from this planet would have been plowed through the far wall from sheer force. But she corrects her footing, letting him latch onto her and hold her for all the eternal life in him.

He whimpers, burying his face against her shoulder. He inhales the scent of her breath, absorbs the warmth of her through her cotton dress, hears the beat of her heart as his own syncs to it.

"Gilgamesh?" she asks without asking. She runs her fingers through his hair, but he remains cloistered around her. Her face turns to kiss his temple, "what ever could be so wrong?"

She has no idea. He nuzzles the side of her neck, "don't move."

She sighs for the sake of sighing, but she does as he asks. Her fingers run through the hair on top of his head lightly and soothingly. Her other hand rubs his back. He, the Strongest Eternal, truly dwarfs her lithe frame in size. But she lets him lean on her like a tree losing its strength.

Eventually his nervous system puts out its own fire. The fear in his mind settles enough for him to open his eyes. He stays close, pressing his nose against her skin as he drags it up her neck and her jaw until he holds her cheeks to look at her--really look at her.

Thena blinks at him, her marvelously green eyes gone wide and adorable. They close as he leans in for a kiss. When they part, her lips are pulled into a smile. "Will you tell me now?"

"No," he denies, and kisses her again. He gives many more kisses, receiving her return with each. He does that until he feels strong enough to take even half a step away from her. He sighs, letting his shoulders drop, tilting his head as he gazes upon his beautiful wife.

"Gil," she prompts him more gently. Her eyelashes flutter, and her concern for him travels through her palm as she slides it up his chest and then to his cheek as well. They have been married several hundred years, and she will get an answer out of him sooner than later.

He sighs again, wrapping his arms around her and moving her to the sink, where she pours water for them. "Just a bad dream."

"Hm." It's obviously more than just a bad dream. But she leaves it at that, because their days now are full of small battles, not large ones. She raises the glass to his lips for him, as if they were wearied after the Trojan War again.

He remains wrapped around her. He can't let her go. The fear that lived in his mind during that dream hasn't left yet. It's still there, watching him despite the light of day.

Thena takes a sip for herself. "Sit?"

He makes a small sound of agreement. She moves towards the table but he prevents her from separating from him again. "Couch."

He can imagine her rolling her eyes, although it's only for the humour of it. She moves past the kitchen table and towards their more comfortable space. She seats herself and lets him seat himself around her, cradling her against him preciously. "The door?"

He grunts; he'll fix it later.

Once reclined on their couch, he breathes a little easier. This is more familiar and gentle. This is where they've spent sunny afternoons together. Sometimes they read together, sometimes he reads and she sleeps on him the way a cat would. She never liked those creatures.

He would run his fingers through her hair and sometimes she would idly rub his back. They would spend evenings here reminiscing about their thousands upon thousands of years together. Sometimes they would go out to their hammock and watch the stars.

Thena settles herself in his arms. She turns over, letting her head tuck itself under his chin, her hand over his heart with his arms wrapped around her. "Better?"

He nods. They speak the other's language--a way of understanding that only they two have. Usually it's she who has few words to offer but even now, with him being reticent, she understands it.

They sit like this for a long time. He watches the shadows rise and stretch and fall in the other direction. When it's in the windows and on them he moves his hands, only to shield her from the direct touch of its rays.

That privilege is for him and him alone. By the second time he does this she turns over again. He's not entirely certain if she's truly gone to sleep or not. But holding her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, the way she feels comfortable with him; he feels eased.

Thena senses this. She sneaks one of her arms around his back and against the couch. The other she toys with the opening at the neck of his shirt. Her pale, pearly nail taps against his skin. "Now?"

The Warrior Eternal is not a patient woman.

Although, she has expended more patience than he has seen from her in quite a long time. For beings with all the time in the world, she is not the best at watching it go by. At least not with the menial. When they were first raising chickens, he could swear she would observe the eggs every quarter hour.

"Bad dream," he repeats from earlier. He already knows she knows this, and he already knows she knows how bad it is to have him this paranoid. He squeezes her shoulder. "Terrible, really."

"Hm," she encourages him, moving her hand from his shirt to his neck, cupping his jaw from below. She strokes it, pulling the words from him with her gentle touch.

"You..." he pauses. He doesn't want to lie to her, even if it's by omitting the truth. "I killed you."

"Impossible."

It's not, and they're well aware of it. But Thena speaks of it lightly, and he likes to think it's because she knows that he would take the utmost care of her, even in a nightmare.

"Felt possible," he argues, pursing his lips as he tries to get the image of her still and unblinking face out of his head. His face gets moved, tilted down to look at her lying on him. It's upside down, but this image of her is much better. He smiles.

Thena smiles too, leaning up to kiss him, letting their lips stretch no matter how far to do so. Hers are always so plump and luscious, like berries. He wants to grow berries here for her, but the ground is simply too dry.

She runs her fingers through his hair again, letting her palm press against his forehead. "It's gone now."

It's such a simple statement, but she's right. As soon as a dream happens, it's already a thing of the past. And maybe he will remember it for a long time to come. Maybe pieces of it will always be with him. But it's not in front of him now, she is.

Thena laughs as he stands suddenly, spinning them around with her hands around his neck. "What has gotten into you?"

He just gazes at her, lucky enough to have his own version of a star to brighten and dazzle and illuminate his every moment on this green and blue spec of cosmos. "Do you remember coming home like this?"

He's carried her like this plenty of times. But she knows what he means; he means the first time he carried her inside like this, as his wife. She nods, stroking his cheek again.

"Y'know, I hear humans can get married again sometimes," he grins, refusing to let the dream colour any more of the beautiful present with his beautiful wife. "They call it renewing your vows."

"We didn't make vows."

Ah, his wife, ever the romantic. He chuckles, touching the tip of his nose to hers. "We can make some this time."

"Construct some poetry for the benefit of a strange human to witness?" she scoffs at the utter absurdity.

"You would write me poetry?" he asks and receives another bubbly laugh.

"I would consider it," she appeals as he spins them one more time and sits with her again. She remains in his hold, on his lap, curled against him. "But for your eyes only. A mortal mind could never wrap its mind around what we have been through together."

That is true. Their love isn't for a mortal to comprehend. He is immortal, and sometimes he's left in awe of it. He stares at his wife, wondering if he should learn to weave so he can make a glorious tapestry devoted to every second - every minute, every hour - he's had with her.

He has all the time in the world.

🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨

Hello, My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.

The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.

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We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.

Our Current Situation:

💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income. 🍞 Basic Needs: Food and water are becoming harder to afford with rising prices and scarce resources. 📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive. 😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.

How You Can Help:

I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $5 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.

Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.

What This Means to Us:

Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.

Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.

With all our gratitude, Mosab Elderawi and Family ❤️

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Hello Everyone, I am Mosab Suleiman Al Derawi, 28 years old, my wife Nadine Adel A… Mosab Derawi needs your support for Help me saving who's

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