#i feel like there was a time i didnt care that much about this i could just focus on the fiction literally and take it as is

[simonsrileyhusband]

haii!! its me again!! <3

so i have an idea that has been taking over my mind

what would you think about poly ghostprice with m!reader? like ghost sharing his precious bf with his captain and they go ham on him like imagine the spitroasts..

nghh i cantt these men make me horny!!! 💔💔😔

🎀 anon! <3

nsfw (headcannons bcs i didnt knew what to write)

simon is so much rough than price, that doesnt mean he doesnt take care of you, that just means that he likes to fuck a lot and he likes it fast... and nasty.

price likes to take care of you, kiss and squeeze here and there, he likes to make sure you feel good. he also lets you take control from time to time, letting you ride him however you want, letting you sit on his face as long as you want.

on the other hand simon hates to give control, he gives orders and even when he allows ypu to be on top, he decides the speed, and if you cant keep up he will make it up trusting up to you.

simon only obeys when price gives an order, which doesnt happen usually bcs he likes to let him believe he is in control.

simon loves praise and degradation, both give and recieve. price gives both and deep inside, even if he says otherwise, he loves praises.

simon loves doggy style and mating press, price loves missionary and cowperson (??? idk i wanted to make it neutral, dont me mean to me)

when they are away on deployment they leave you a set of rules that you must follow. no touching yourself unless they allow you to, and they almost never let you. and if they do give you permission, you can only cum once and you must send them a video or audio.

price is less harsh if you disobey, he mainly says he is dissapointed. but simon gets excited when it comes to punishments, both giving and reciving.

also, when they come back from deployment you should be prepared for not being able to walk properly for at least 5 days. because when they come back they are needy.

[mexicanvarianz]

I just love to think about Nuru and Yong a lot more than varigo even if i don’t draw both Nuru and Yong often, especially with the whole betrayal. From what i have seen, it all focuses on Varian and Hugo but i don’t see much about how Yong and Nuru feel. I usually see how both Nuru and Yong comfort Varian, which is understandable, they care about Varian a lot. But then again, these are kids who put all their trust a random person, and have become a founding family all together where they trust and count on each other. Yong who sees Hugo a lot as a brother and looks up to him and same goes for Nuru, she may have not trusted him at first but she stepped out of her way to start trusting him completely and actually getting along with Hugo as a friend and also like a annoying older brother, i think both Hugo and Nuru learn about their differences of growing up in different social classes.

Yong didnt take it so well, he act out of frustration and anger probably the way varian reacted in S1, Yong felt that all Hugo’s encouragement and support for Yong was all a lie and to gain his trust making him feel like a complete fool of himself. He’s very snappy at anyone completely now having trust issues as well, this is his first time being betrayed after all and he feels so naive he feels like he should kept his guard up instead of trusting anyone or look up to anyone he sees as a cool person.

Nuru at the moment was back to square one with her feelings, when she realizes Hugo was working for Donella, she completely shuts down emotionally, she has this moment of “i was right but i wish i wasn’t” she kept her feeling to herself and first thing that comes to mind is to comfort Varian and Yong but she was also hurt in processes of this and is affected by Hugo’s actions as even with their differences she still viewed Hugo as family. At this moment Nuru gives hugo the silent treatment and only speaks a little to him without letting out her anger or sadness.

Varian saw all of this and his first instinct was to put them first then think about his feelings about Hugo later, he saw himself a lot in them, how they felt, the feeling of being hurt, and betrayal where you feel completely lost. Varian would comfort them the way no one did for him when he was at his lowest, he understood Yong’s anger and try comforting both Nuru and Yong, try to teach them how to cope in a healthy way and letting them know they aren’t alone and he understands how they feel. Instead of comforting one person, they comfort each other.

I have talked about this before on my instagram story but i wanted to posted it on here!

[marsmaximoff]

🪩; club pentagon 𖦹₊⋆☾

content warning: ‘long haired’ fem!reader. suggestive. drugs, alcohol.

word count: 1.4k 💜

author’s note: y’all idk what’s happening to me. like i swear when i watched the show i didn’t care about him. in fact i didn’t even like him. and now i can’t stop thinking about his hot face and hands 😔 expect more fics to come cause i’m going crazy. btw, i apologize for the possible mistakes as english is my third language. enjoy <3!

divider by @strangergraphics <3

the colorful lights create a shiny veil over the club. the music reverberating throughout the place, accompanied by loud, excited screams and intoxicated voices, acts as a barrier to the real world.

while i wait for my friend to come back from the bathroom, a guy catches my eye, separated from the rest, in a corner. he must be around my age, a bit older. and i don’t know what it is exactly, but something immediately lures me in. something about his aura, his vibe.... maybe it’s the dark hair, or the tattoos on his arm, the way he’s talking to the man next to him like he’s important... 

he looks hot. and like a total dick too. 

“you like him?” your friend inquires cheekily, noticing your stare. “i haven’t seen him before.” you don’t forget someone like him. his tall frame and dark clothes adding to the arousing pull i’m feeling. “he’s the reason we’re here. i found the club through him; he promotes it.” “do you know him?” there’s a growing curiosity inside of me, to know more, “not at all”, to get closer. “he looks like a playboy,” she declares, to which i can only agree. “an attractive one, tho.”

on cue, as if he had heard us -impossible given the distance- he takes his eyes from that man and locks his gaze on mine, sending a flutter through my stomach. but i don’t shy away, seeing his eyes go down my body, checking me out, unashamedly. a hussy grin accompanies the action while i keep the intense eye contact going for some time before turning around and heading back to the dance floor. as i do, i feel his gaze slide over my body and smile to myself, satisfied, trying to sensualize my walk a bit.

the night continues as usual: drinks, dancing, some flirting here and there, all that still carrying a boost of confidence from that previous interaction. 

eventually, i take a break sitting by the counter, and almost in no time, a smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and something else surrounds me. 

“hey” he speaks with confidence and a certain ego; the grin is back where it had been before. he leans on the bar and studies me, daringly, carefully. that seems to fuel my boldness, because my hand moves almost instantly towards his face, slowly. he doesn’t back away or stop me; he doesn’t even flinch. i gather the remaining white powder from the warm skin right over his upper lip with a finger and lower it, showing it to him. “oops, my bad,” he says playfully while grabbing my wrist. then, he brings it to his mouth and licks it off my fingertip without one of us breaking eye contact for a single second. holy. fuck. afterwards, he laughs softly, my heart rate going crazy, “want some? i only have the best.” i shake my head, choosing to keep my drifting lucidity. 

my gaze travels down his body until reaching his tattooed arm. “you like ‘em?” “i dont see many people around who have them” “yeah…bunch of pussies. these didnt hurt at all, you know.” the smugness of his words an obvious sign of his eagerness to impress. “you got more?” “oohh, someone’s interested…” i scoff finding his teasing annoying, yet unable to deny the way i have to press my lips together to hold back a smile. “i love tattoos” “yeah? wanna touch?” his comments come off so nonchalantly, flirting a natural habit of his. “i mean, you've already gone for my mouth...” his voice lowers a bit, having the clearly much-expected effect on me, and i give in, my yearning taking my fingers to his arm. the smooth and steamy flesh welcomes me with a satisfying shiver, and the hitch of his breath makes me slow down, caressing softly, seductively. 

i don't know if he's trying to contain himself, or enjoying it too much, but i see him biting his lip, and it feels so good to find a tiny crack in his confident facade, the growing heat in my belly seconding it. the initial trace of ink becomes a search of his now more prominent veins, up and down. “i like how it looks.” i give him a final graze, but this time it’s my hand that strokes his arm all the way down his slender, ring-adorned fingers which i hold and toy with before letting go to replace them with my drink, leaving him all greedy for more. his skin on fire. 

he’s affected now, trying to break the spell, attempting to somehow regain control while his breathing’s all over the place. cute. 

the drink sugars my senses, but it’s not nearly as sweet as the feel of him. 

“you like the club?” he goes back to his usual self, his comfort zone, something he can proudly show off. “yeah, i like the ambience”  “i can show you around…this place’s my second home.” i know what he's doing, using an excuse to move this somewhere quieter, more private, more comfortable…. but i decide to play a bit with him. “i don’t know… i'm really enjoying this area.” he smirks, “and it only gets better, we don't leave the best within reach of just anyone”, getting closer. “so you’re saying you'll make it worth my time?” he pokes his cheek with his tongue, turning me on even more. fucking tease. “in fact you'll regret it if you don't come.”  “mmm…im not sure…maybe i need a preview….” his face is mere millimeters from mine, giving me a perfect view of the mischievous look that takes over his. then, he grabs a small bag from his pocket -more white powder- and pushes my hair away from my shoulder, the contact leaving goosebumps everywhere. when the bareness pleases him, an unfamiliar feeling covers my skin. and then i realize, he’s pouring it on me. jesus christ. he leaves a shivery trail up to my neck, molding it to get a perfect line. his hot breath is getting me dizzy, his hand enveloping the other side of my neck, his allure a dangerous mix with the alcohol. he snorts the line in one, the tip of his nose tickling my burning skin. “yesss, shit baby”, he groans huskily underneath my ear, adding a bit of pressure with his hand, and i feel my wetness starting to become uncomfortable. 

he’s laughing when he pulls back, “how’s that for a preview?”, finishing rubbing the remains of his nose. but i can only focus on his fingers, fuck. i need more. “not bad” i try so hard to think of something witty, flirty, to keep the back and forth going, but i can’t. my brain is foggy, my body is flaming, and my belly is killing me with all those damn backflips. “not bad? that’s not nice of you….imma have to do something about that attitude of yours…” i stand up from the stool, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “maybe i do need that tour, a change from the loud music and everything” god i’ve truly become pathetic. and it seems to amuse him, “yeah? i thought you liked the ambience here….” “and i thought you said you’d make it worth my time” i make him smirk again, what a damn sight, and before i know it he’s taking me who knows where.

the moment the door closes behind us, my back is pushed to the wall, his arms caging me. this time, his eyes stay on my lips while he bites his. “fuck, you’re so hot” i can’t hold it anymore. the praise gets to him and makes him snap, harshly pressing our mouths together. the kiss is rough, desperate, as if we were running out of time. i let out a muffled moan as he brings me closer to his warm body and slides one hand towards my neck, adding some pressure. i’ve never had such a messy, intense kiss before, it makes my legs weak. he keeps asserting dominance the whole time, and bites my lip before pulling back and heading towards my neck. 

my moans get louder as i feel him leaving hickeys all over my skin. “it’s namgyu”, he corrects me, hovering over my flesh. but the blood is already pounding in my ears. “huh?” 

 “i want you to know what to moan”

[faerghusfucker]

hello tumblr user faerghusfucker, I love your character design takes. The detail in the Felix hair take fascinates me, because I personally know nothing about hair. Do you have any other hair-headcanons about other characters in the game?

hello tumblr user maxthewickedgoblin!!! the answer is yes i do, and i just need to preface this post by stating just how excited this ask got me. i got it in the middle of working on a pile of assignments and i decided to make answering it a reward for when i finished them all bc this is a topic im so passionate abt that even just giving myself time to THINK more abt it is like a treat.

also this is the first post im making from my computer instead of my phone lol, i anticipate itll be a long one so. it's real keyboard time. btw if yall want me to expand on any of these more you need only ask and i will yap for all eternity. i hold this information in my soul all the time i love yapping abt this shit

An Eclectic Collection of FE3H Hairstyle Headcanons

ingrid's father doesn't allow her to cut her hair. it's like unwieldy long pre-ts and it looks super split ends-y, probably to make her more "marriageable" and appealing to the noblemen that he sends her proposals from. In both houses and hopes she defies his wishes by joining the army, and i think her cutting her hair is a symbol of that defiance as well. she is COMMITTING to the knighthood thing, marriage is of no concern to her, and so she changes her appearance as a result

similar thing with mercedes!!! she has the same marriage conflict as ingrid does (it's a little different with her tho, ingrid loves her father and mercedes. well you know), and i think the hair thing caries over too. she becomes a nun post-ts in houses and cuts her hair way shorter, but there's also a noticeable lack of the fluffy, wavy texture it has pre-ts. idk if this would be a requirement for nuns in the church of seiros, but it seems that in turning herself fully over to her faith, she also reduced her focus on worldly/selfish things such as fancy products for her hair and spending hours on styling it, so maybe that's why it's so much straighter in addition to being shorter

i know i already yapped abt felix FAR too much so here's a cutesy one lol i think he lets ppl play with his hair if they want to. he lets mercedes brush it and put braids in it when she misses emille and he didnt protest too hard when annette wanted to put flowers in it for the ball (spoiler for my ball felix design). he also takes SUPER good care of it. of all the characters in the game except maybe hilda, his hair routine is the most detailed. you know he has special brushes and oils and shit, his hair is SILKYYYY

you didnt think i JUST had blue lions headcanons, did you???? SURPRISE

i think dorothea's natural hair texture is her post-timeskip houses one, and in every other design she's curled it. i mean come on, she was a diva in an opera company, of course she knows how to do her hair super nice, and she carried that skill with her to the academy to try and attract a good spouse. but as we learn more about her and she grows up a little more, she starts to drop her flirty facade and be more authentic instead, and you guessed it, wearing her natural hair more :3

linhardt is VERY picky abt his hair length. obviously hes autistic and so he probably doesnt like how it feels when the cold air hits his neck. but at the same time, when his hair gets longer than his shoulders it tangles too easily, and it's far too much work to brush all of that hair. his hair has to sit AT his shoulders (in hopes he gets too busy with the war effort to cut it and so he's in-between haircuts in that one. he hates it so much. someone give my dear son a trim)

ferdinand's hair grows CRAZY fast. did you guys see the length of it in the houses timeskip????? unreal. like linhardt he starts out very meticulous with it-- a nobleman must be well-groomed, after all-- but once the war starts and he loses his territory i think he gets a lil depressed and kind of just. doesnt do it anymore lol

this one's a little out there but i think hubert is blind in his hidden eye and thats why he puts his hair over it. hes never told anyone abt it bc it would be a major weakness in battle if someone knew he had a massive blind spot. this is part of the reason he takes so well to magic thats super big and destructive so he doesnt need to be super precise abt where he's hitting. he struggles with weapons A LOT so he makes sure hes an absolute beast in magic to make up for it

marianne never learned to do her own hair, but she learned to braid horse manes after spending so much time with them and so she just applied that knowledge to herself. after getting closer to hilda, she very nervously and quietly asked if she could show her how to make her hair look nice, and homegirl JUMPED at the opportunity (hilda had been wanting to fix her gf's hair up for so long but she was being nice abt it)

lorenz lets his father cut his hair for him. need i say more

byleth (both of them) trims their hair with a dagger, and they've gotten really good at it. mercenery work doesn't pay well enough for things like hairdressers, and they've never really given much thought to their appearance until arriving at the monastery and having everyone ogle at them all the time.

that SHOULD be everything but i'll probably think of more later. i legit thought of a few new ones as i wrote them lmao. i'm actually going to school for game design rn and specializing in concept art so this is the type of shit i think of. for my career lmao it's super fun. please spam my askbox with headcanons or questions or whatever the fuck i love to talk and i think it's bonkers other ppl like to read what i write lol. see you next time with that felix drawing :3

[aventurineswife]

WAIT WE CAN MAKE SUGGESTIVE REQS???? I DIDNT KNOW THAT

ok so like aventurine x reader

and hummmmmmm

bro actually idk

ILL READ ANYTHING WITH AVENTURINE LMAO

“I am yours”

Summary: In the quiet of a shared moment, you and Aventurine find solace in the unspoken connection between you. Though Aventurine’s guarded nature keeps his emotions hidden, his subtle actions speak volumes, conveying a truth he cannot say aloud: even in the waiting, he belongs to you.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Emotional Vulnerability, Subtle Romance, Mutual Understanding, Quiet Intimacy, Found Family Themes.

Warnings: Mentions of Survivor's Guilt, Brief Allusion to Past Trauma, Themes of Emotional Guardedness and Subtle Angst.

A/N: that's what you get for not reading my rules 🧍‍♀️... Also I already wrote a suggestive which was almost discreet smut Aventurine.. and I had this lying around so have this instead.

The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of paper as Aventurine shuffled a deck of cards between his fingers. The precision in his movements was mesmerizing, each card flipping effortlessly into place, as though they were an extension of his will. The air carried the faint scent of his cologne—spiced cedar and a hint of something sweet, like smoke curling from a forgotten ember. He hadn’t spoken in a while, content to let the silence stretch, unbroken but full of meaning.

You watched him from across the room, the dim light casting faint shadows over the sharp lines of his face. His eyes seemed fixed on the cards, but you knew better. Aventurine rarely focused on one thing; his mind was always two steps ahead, weaving possibilities and contingencies, playing a game no one else could see. But tonight, there was no pretense of strategy in the air.

You felt the weight of his attention even when he didn’t look at you, as if his presence reached for you in quiet moments. There was an ease between you, the kind that grew only in the absence of demands. And yet, it wasn’t easy, not really. Being close to Aventurine was always like this—a careful balance, a gamble where the stakes were never entirely clear.

The cards stopped mid-shuffle, and his hands stilled. He leaned back in his chair, his golden rings catching the light as he rubbed the edge of one thumb against the deck. You noticed how his other hand had slipped behind his back, a habit you’d come to recognize in moments of tension.

“Waiting is part of the game,” he once told you. His voice had been light, a teasing lilt that made you smile despite yourself. But it was a truth he lived by—every moment, every pause, calculated with the precision of a master gambler.

Tonight, though, the waiting felt different. Not the cold calculation of a man biding his time but something quieter, softer. His body language betrayed him in small ways—a flex of his fingers, the way his foot tapped once before stilling. You wondered if he was thinking about the words he couldn’t say, the ones he might never find the courage to.

But you didn’t need them.

You shifted closer, your steps slow, deliberate, as though moving too quickly might shatter the fragile stillness. When you stopped beside him, he didn’t look up. Yet, the tilt of his head told you he knew you were there, as he always did. His presence was magnetic, like gravity pulling you into orbit, and you felt that familiar tug deep in your chest.

For a moment, you stood still, unsure of what to say, if anything. The words hung heavy in your throat. He made everything feel like a gamble, even something as simple as reaching out.

Then, as though sensing your hesitation, he shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing against your leg. It was the faintest movement, almost imperceptible, but it carried a weight that words never could. You didn’t need to hear him say it, didn’t need him to look up with that confident smirk that masked so much.

“I am yours,” his actions whispered, even in this silence, even in this waiting.

The weight of it settled over you, not oppressive but grounding. You placed a hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his coat warm beneath your fingers. He didn’t react outwardly, but you felt the tension ease ever so slightly from his frame, like a gamble that had just paid off.

And for a while, neither of you moved. Waiting, perhaps, but no longer alone.

[bigassmoth]

Something so enticing about a post-apocalypse yandere

Someone dependable who you know will never ice you over resources or possible death. Its scary at times, they seem to consider killing you so "you wouldnt have to endure anymore", but their intense affection for you always wins out.

They dont let you do any dangerous work, so you are put in charge of the base camp. There is only the two of you- and there will never be anyone else. Your companion cannot share you- but they will insist its because outsiders will be a liability and ultimately betray you. So socially isolated you assume your companion has good intentions. When they touch your face, tuck your hair behind your ear, inhale your scent when they hug you- contact they want before they leave the safety of the base. You are lonely too, which is why you let them slide into bed with you and wrap their scarred arms around you. So desperate for human contact that you feel yourself getting wet and hot when their breath tickles your ear.

"Ah...you should have told me. No- it's my fault that I didnt notice sooner." Their voice is so soft and gentle- a voice that has walked you through so much panic and grief. Their rough hands are on you, stroking your legs and ass at a slow pace.

"We should do this...so you can get some sleep." Their fingers dip into your underwear. You dont know how much time passed and how many shuddering orgasms you unleashed with your body pinned between theirs and the wall. Their fingers worked you again and again with a lazy roughness- a result of their marred skin and dexterity. While their mouth lavished your neck with gentle but wet kisses.

Any number of excuses pop up. They join you in the shower, they pull you into their lap during breakfast, they steal your attention from your games.

"To keep your stress down"..."To make sure youre healthy"..."Mental enrichment"..."To save on water"

Of course you dont need any excuse when you kiss the corner of their mouth and ask them to fuck you into oblivion.

As time wears on and resources bounce back from a lack of predation while nature reclaims the space, your survival is easier. They scavange for toys as your lazy days have facilitated frequent fornification.

What you will never know is the number of other survivors they encountered. Some matched their wariness and they parted with a mutual understanding. Most were friendly- wanting to tag along with them or recruit them to their group after witnessing their survivor skills. "Of course we always welcome more hands! Are you traveling with anyone else?" They dont answer, no one needs to know about you. Persistant individuals are killed- they dont trust that some annoying liability wont follow them back to you and attempt to persuade you directly.

When they come back they are extra clingy. Burying themself into your embrace as soon as they have cleaned up. Your gentle hands on their scalp and back, your concerned voice.

"If we ever met other survivors, would you want to join them?" You assume they are distressed after another isolating experience outside.

"Hm, if you trusted them then yes I would. It would certainly lessen your workload." You comfort them, "Im sure we will meet someone at some point. It cant possibly be only us."

They take your comfort in a different direction. Its fine that they killed that enthusiastic man today- because they didnt trust them. You wouldnt mind living with out people, so there was no other survivors they could ever trust. Elimination was necessary.

They grumble their agreement while falling asleep against you. Your complaints about needing to get up and make dinner fall on deaf ears. Once they feel like it they will prepare food, lovingly provide and care for you the way that only they are allowed to.

[verdantwyrm]

i feel like its so funny that the mouthwashing fandom calls curly an enabler without even knowing the actual definition of the word 💀

"he didn't do anything about jimmy assaulting anya" he literally didnt know until two days before the crash??? tf was he supposed to do??? gain precognition???

even if he tried to do something (which he did try to do but failed at miserably) the conditions they were in were so dogshit that most options would have had bad outcomes(cough the games plot cough), and thats not something you want for yourself and your crew

sure anya did say jimmys been saying weird shit to her but like...no normal person will hear it and think "this guys secretly a rapist"

i do think curly couldve at least told jimmy to not be weird to anya before they did the psych eval but be sooo fr the chances of people telling their long time friends to stop doing this shit is verrryyy low

anyways yeah curly sucked ass at helping but there was an attempt, even if it ended catastrophically, he still tried to fix things (and thats not what being an enabler is)

Literally! Like yes, okay his comment towards Anya should have been taken seriously but if Curly didn't care about that, he would have just made Anya do Jimmy's eval anyway. He really does care about Anya, he just couldn't do much!!! In that exact situation!!!!!

[m1lkt00th]

[ tags via @sunnydayaoe & idm you only talking in tags :] i like to put them here for visibility for me. easier to read/respond to. hope thats okay !! ]

and i really like that end bit with dust being prickly at first. he absolutely would be. maybe a bit startled by fresh’s mutual curiosity. maybe scared of it too given him not really Knowing what fresh’s deal is (yet or ever)

and fresh continuing with not placing their past as a “good” or “bad” thing but as “surviving” is fascinating to me. i like this guy lots.

and dust judges himself a Lot. it’s part of what i mean when i mentioned that he has “issues”. he’s overly critical of his actions and i think after getting out of his au he’ll have a period of time where he’s just stuck in a doomed mood (an episode). where he grapples with how everything he did was for nothing and probably not all that worth it. but he loops back around in his head about how he Had to do it and how that was his Only choice and just gahh. he’s not kind to himself at all

and i think with dust in this hypotheical “calm and on the journey to ‘healing’” (healing being pretending as if all of that didnt happen and dissociating heavily because of it. and having moments where he thinks he’s still underground or underground With the player) that fresh would work as a distraction and maybe a wake up call. remind him that he’s somewhere different

and i just think theyre cute together. interacting at least. i think at some point they’d develop banter or nonverbal means of communicating. maybe existing in the same space and that tenseness surrounding them isnt as suffocating

dust isnt much of a talker. maybe fresh would be the one talking or doing things. and also if dust does get into hobbies he’d let fresh in on what he does. friends :] or something close to it. not a typical relationship in my head. im not sure if i can envision them taking care of each other? being close enough to exist together but not That invested or not being sure if they want to be. maybe dust notices fresh is injured and inquires and fresh brushes it off? or ignores it? scratching my head lots

tags:

#wahh facinating facinating... I like it...#I feel like fresh could get interested first. especially by the fact that dust used to be “interesting” ie. very frought life with a lot of#conflict and stuff. and now that he's settled down he's more... “boring”? again. the fact that dust is Just Some Dude . could be soemthing#I feel like Fresh would see if he coudl bother dust aboiut it all. which is kinda assholey but frehs is an asshole#I dunno.. someone who sees dusts past as neither a Bad Thign he'd done. or as a good one either.#not going to use him like that like nightmare or anyone .. but also not specifically Judging him. like dust's judging himself.#frehs would just see it as surviving. and .. yeah. I think perhaps dust can enifit from someone who does Only see it as surviving#??? I'm saying a lot of bullshit I think . again dust is hard for me to understand. but yeah#also any amount of interest would make fresh preen I think. guy who loooves when people give him any attention at all at all.#I can think.. dust would at first be a bit prickly. and fresh would like that sort of thing. attention good or bad. as a starting point#reblog#sorry I only talk in reblogs... I get scared talking in the body of a psot

whatever bro. fresh having more relationships outside of error and geno and how they interact. who is fresh to people. how does he fit into the world (or doesnt fit if you want to go that way). are they scared of him. do they warm to each other eventually. grr grr grr

[jackass-jones]

Mizuki and Date though like. Imagine being 8 and your parents are filthy rich and going through a bad divorce. Your mom treats you like shit, lashing out at you, hitting you, saying she wishes you were never born all because you were behaving like a child. Your dad is more comforting, but he doesn’t do anything to stop the abuse and he spends his time invested in a completely different family, a girl who you love and look up to but he loves her more than you and it fucking shows. Then your dads new friend, some fucking bachelor in his late 20s, is just like "wow you guys are the worst fucking parents ive ever seen" and next thing you know your dad is sending you off to live with him. And it’s just a massive kick in the head cuz you go from a rich lifestyle to living in some really shitty tiny ass apartment with this guy who’s clearly never been around a child in his entire life and he doesn’t know how to behave and does a really bad job of censoring himself like he has a bunch of dirty magazines that he can’t hide very well cuz it’s literally a studio apartment and also he talks to himself sometimes, it’s really weird. He doesn’t even have the slightest clue what he’s doing

And he’s the best parent you’ve ever had

Because fuck, it all really hurts. You have to cope with having never received any love from anyone, and with the fact that your parents clearly don’t want you and can’t even be bothered to send you with anyone even kinda responsible. And this guy has a scary job with crazy hours and you don’t know anything about him and neither does he. But still, he never once hits you or tells you you’re not allowed to cry. He just gives you space and doesn’t push you to feel any sort of way about him. And sometimes, he’s even kind. He makes you some stew, even though it’s a bit chunky. He lets you sleep in the bed and takes the couch for himself, even though he complains about the massive back pain he’d never trade his spot for a second. He pays attention to events at your school and gives you your favorite stuffed animal when you make good grades, even though you called it ugly. He gets worried sick when you come home with bruises and puts on a goofy voice and trains you to defend yourself and you develop some highly deadly skills and even though it’s really abnormal, he buys you a bench press so you can get stronger. There’s this distance there, and you feel really weird caring about someone who you aren’t related to, but you find yourself wishing it was meant to be like this all along, that maybe, he’s secretly your real dad and he loves you like his real daughter

And when you say "I’m back" he says "welcome home"

[aroaceleovaldez]

because in TKC most Eyes match the gender of the god they host (and just in general in-universe it seems most immortals and hosts in possession/possession-like scenarios are the same gender) this implies that the two outliers we know of - Zia (rejected hosting a goddess but was able to host a god instead) and Percy (Eye of Nekhbet) - may be trans. so uh happy pride to Zia and Percy specifically

[umblrspectrum]

still thinking about it so heres a bunch of stuff

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"

[arrowheadedbitch]

Thinking about the episode where Nessie Jr hatches and how Colonel Baird assumes that Ezekiel is goofing off so she gives him a job to do and he keeps trying to get that job out of the way as fast as he can so he can go back to the very important job he was doing.

There's so much to be said about that part of the episode!

The way colonel baird assumes he's goofing off, the way he doesn't even try to defend himself until after he's already finished the thing she was stopping him from doing, the way he only explains why he was on his phone after she's already scolded him multiple times, the way he HACKED a GOVERNMENT SATALITE from his CELL PHONE, the way he genuinely cares about the egg despite it being dumped on him because of the assumption that he isn't working on something worthwhile, the way he's genuinely upset that he almost killed the egg by accident, the way he doesn't realise a bunsen burner will kill the baby but knows how to HACK a SATALITE from his CELL PHONE, the way he doesn't really care that Baird kept him away from his important work because of an assumption, the way he never tries to curb her assumption, the way he's only annoyed and really only mildly scolds her for making him take longer to figure out the other's were in big trouble, the way that this episode deeply effects how Baird sees Ezekiel, there's just so much to be said

[youssefguedira]

I wish you would write a fic about irreconcilable artistic differences on a movie set between Joe and Nicky.

not really irreconciliable as in not solvable at all but you know i had fun with this

Joe squeezes his eyes shut, covering his face with both hands, and leans forward. His shoulders tremble uncontrollably. He takes a short, sharp breath, and another, and another, but he can’t quite seem to get enough into his lungs. There’s a lump in his throat and a weight in his stomach. He leans forward with a low, wounded sound and–

“Cut,” Nicky says softly. Then, because it takes Joe a second to hear him: “Joe, stop.”

Slowly, Joe raises his head. Wipes at his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. Nicky’s already up, frowning ever so slightly as he looks at the camera. 

“What is it this time?” Joe manages. His voice is hoarse; he has to clear his throat once or twice. Nicky doesn’t look up. The clock on the nightstand reads 01.34, but Nicky’s changed it a few times over the course of the shoot. He has no clue what time it really is, only that it’s dark outside.

It’s just the two of them in the room. Nicky had wanted to keep this one small, just him and Joe and the camera. The apartment they’re in is nice, if a little empty, though Joe supposes that’s the point. They’re in the bedroom, Joe sitting cross-legged on the bed, shirtless, sheets bunched up over his lap, a phone lying on the nightstand behind him. One entire wall of the room is taken up by a floor-to-ceiling window which lets the moonlight in, though there’s a few low lights set up behind Nicky to send bars of silver light across the bed, because the natural light hadn’t quite been strong enough for the effect Nicky wanted. It’s otherworldly; it’s beautiful. 

Nicky still isn’t looking at him, so Joe says again, “What?” It comes out a little harsher than he means it to, but it gets Nicky’s attention.

Nicky runs one hand through his hair. Joe can’t see him well, not with the light behind him and the shadows in the room. “I don’t know,” Nicky says. “It’s missing something.”

Joe has worked with Nicky enough times before. It’s not that he doesn’t like working with him - they’re friends - but he can’t fucking read him, and so after the sixth take of the same scene he can’t help but take it a little personally. 

Joe reaches for the bottle of water hidden just under the bed and takes a long drink, mostly to keep himself from snapping. What time is it? “I can try again, but I can’t do this indefinitely, Nicky.”

“I know, I know,” Nicky says, fidgeting again with the camera, “it’s not you, it’s just–” 

“What else could it be?” Joe interrupts. He’s not stupid. This scene doesn’t work if he can’t get it right, which means the entire film doesn’t work if he can’t get it right. More than anything else, this one depends on him. No music, no camera movement, no dialogue, nothing but him and the camera. And he wants to do it right, he loves this project almost as much as Nicky does, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest and he’s spent the last however-many-hours having a near-complete breakdown over and over again and it’s still not right. And Joe doesn’t know what it is he’s doing wrong.

“I don’t know,” Nicky says quietly. Now he is looking at Joe, and Joe can’t tell if he’s disappointed, or angry, or – or what. He’s perfectly expressionless, as always. 

Joe loves this job. And he wants to get this right. But it doesn’t mean it’s not one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, and he’s tired.

“I don’t have much more left in me, Nicky,” he says, and this time he does snap. He wipes at his eyes again, can’t look at Nicky. He’s supposed to be making himself vulnerable, above all in this scene, but suddenly he can’t stand the way Nicky’s looking at him. “Pass me my hoodie.”

“Joe–”

“I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.” He kicks the sheets off and gets tangled trying to do it, grabs his hoodie when Nicky offers it, pulls it over his head in one fluid motion and gets out of there as soon as he can. Thankfully, there’s only Andy and Nile in the other room, Andy lying back on the couch with her feet up and Nile perched on the arm of it. They both look up at Joe as he enters, both look like they’re about to ask, and Joe can’t stand it, can’t be in here a second longer, can’t–

“We are done for the day, I think,” Nicky says behind him, startling Joe. He hadn’t realised Nicky was there.

Andy raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. It’s already the second day of trying to shoot this scene: they’re running the risk of falling behind schedule. 

“We’ll find something else to do tomorrow,” Nicky says. “I’ll look over everything tonight. We will try this again on Monday.”

Andy and Nile look at each other. Nile shrugs. 

“Get some rest, Joe,” Nicky says. 

Joe shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t say a word.

–--------------------------------

He doesn’t get called in the next day at all, and he doesn’t interrogate it too closely. Takes the day off, pretty much, because they’ve only really got one scene left to film, and there’s not much more he can do for that. Nicky had wanted to leave it to the last, and Joe had agreed, at the time.

At about nine pm, someone knocks on his hotel room door, which is unusual on a day where they don’t have a night shoot to do. When he opens it, Nicky is on the other side. Joe lets him in without a word. 

“I wanted to apologise,” Nicky says, standing in the middle of the room and looking as uncomfortable as Joe’s ever seen him. “For last night. I was pushing you too hard, and I should not have done.”

Joe closes the door behind him. Nicky fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Sit down,” Joe says. 

Nicky does, settling himself on the edge of Joe’s bed, not quite looking him in the eye. Joe joins him, after a moment. 

“At the risk of sounding cliche,” Nicky says, “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Joe laughs, mostly because the phrase sounds so strange coming from Nicky and also because out of everything he’d thought Nicky might say, he hadn’t expected that. 

Nicky smiles slightly, too. Then he gets up and heads for the minibar. “Mind if I have a drink?”

Joe shakes his head. Nicky gets out a little bottle of wine, glances at the label, and takes a swig straight from the bottle without bothering to get a glass. 

“I can’t seem to get it right,” Nicky says. “You know I wrote almost fifteen different versions of that scene?”

The scene in the script itself is barely a page long. “No,” Joe says. 

Nicky nods. Rubs a hand over his face. “I wanted it to feel real. I thought if I could get it right, it would… help, somehow. I don’t know.”

It’s the exact same reason Joe said yes before he even read the script, when the whole thing was just an idea in Nicky’s head, when they were talking about it over drinks at Andy’s and Joe was in love with the idea almost immediately. He knew exactly why Nicky was writing it; he knows, now, exactly why it needs to be right. But at the same time – “I don’t know if that’s possible, Nicky.”

Nicky sighs. “I know.” He crosses back over to sit beside Joe again, takes another drink from the bottle. “But there is something missing, and I cannot seem to find it. And so it does not feel real. And I know this is not easy for you.”

“It’s not,” Joe says plainly. 

“But you know,” Nicky continues, “I could not have trusted anyone with this but you. If you had not said yes, I would not have done this.”

That, Joe didn’t know: he knows he’d been Nicky’s first choice, but he’d assumed that’s because they know each other well enough already. But it makes sense: the reason Nicky wrote the script is the same thing they’d bonded over. 

Even still, it’s a lot. “I don’t know if I can do it the way you want,” Joe says. 

Nicky looks up at him from where he’s been running his fingers over the label on the bottle absentmindedly. “If you want to stop, I can–”

“No,” Joe says quickly. “But I don’t think it’s ever going to be exactly the way you felt.”

Nicky looks away. “It is a lot to ask,” he says. “I know this.”

Joe doesn’t think; just reaches over and takes Nicky’s hand. “I know,” he says. “Trust me.”

Nicky takes a deep breath. Then he nods. "Okay."

[dadvans]

love language.

like so much love and affection and support for tommy getting to know buck and then watching buck describe every single way he's tried to chase love in his thirty years alive on earth to never be loved back in a way he needs or wants, like give me THAT moment of TV, give me the dawning moment of horrifying awareness on tommy's face when he realizes his boyfriend 1. needs to be loved and 2. has never been loved and 3. so readily accepts anything that even comes close that he'll die for it and 4. has ZERO self awareness about any of this to the point that he thinks he's been loved before, plenty of times

[risingsunresistance]

sorry him saying he has no idea where the misogyny thing comes from when ludwig just talked about how he sent him a big apology for calling his friend a whore when it was about THE WRONG WOMAN is funny as fuck

i dont think he realizes that the reason no one gives a shit about his apologies and honestly just straight up ignores them is because EVEN IN THE EVENT THAT THEY ARE TRUE he's been proven to lie soooooo many times to the point where you really cant believe a word that comes out of his mouth. he says something and im like "damn maybe i was wrong about that one... i'll look into it" and you get more info and go "oh. he just made that part up. and misworded that. and lied about that part... oh it was actually WORSE than i initially thought!"