#in character? eh

[faroresson]

Stupid Snavid Headcanons because i cant sleep

-Hates being out of the loop and Needs To Know What's Going On At All Times which directly causes problems with the next one

- Also will consciously stop listening if somebody starts telling him things above his paygrade because the less he knows the longer his annual attempt at retirement gets to be

- Retro Gamer, he's got a ps1 with some Konami games (and Crash Bandicoot) and a SNES with mario and a racing game or two

- During his 4 year stint in the "Canadian Wilderness" in the 90s (I assume Yukon but it could reasonably be any territory and a good chunk of north western or north eastern provinces) Snake picked up Canadian slang and cant put it down ("Hey, I'm goin out for a dart, brb" "Where the hell are you gonna throw darts around here??" "I'm going for a smoke," "ah")

- I prolly talked about this one but David keeps the bandana Meryl gives him on at all times, the usual way for missions and either around his neck or wrist when not

- He'll talk to dogs like they're a people. No baby talk or anything just normal talking.

- Won't drink moutain dew, never liked the taste and then Chronically Online Hal "Otacon" Emmerich called it Gamer Fuel once and now its also just banned from his presence

- The handshake was mostly his idea. Otacon made an offhand comment about secret handshakes one time and immediately Snake was planning out theirs, "It'd be kinda cool if we had a handshake, eh?" "That sounds kinda dumb, lets do it."

- He puts people's codenames in his phone or Firstname Lastname, but nothing silly because otherwise he'd forget who's who

-related to the above, he's bad with names. No reason for this one I just think its funny

-Doesn't have the exact same penchant for eating random wildlife as his father... but it got pretty close in his FOXHOUND days

- Will go to fairs and carnivals and shit Just To Buy Deep Fried Mars Bars but feels weird about just getting pop from a fast food place so he'll buy a full meal even if he isnt hungry

[canisalbus]

[yuwuta]

CAN’T KEEP MY HANDS TO MYSELF (I MEAN I COULD, BUT WHY WOULD I WANT TO?) — JJK BOYS + TOO HOT

featuring. gojo, okkotsu, choso, itadori, fushiguro

content, warnings. playing too hot with the jjk boys—(too hot is a party game in which two people kiss while keeping their hands to themselves; the first person to touch their partner loses), making out, tongue sucking, uhhh slight predator/prey in yuuta’s oops, they’re a bunch of losers to be honest, there’s a word for the thing yuuji does but i don't know it lolol

word count. 1.6k

SATORU GOJO Satoru is prideful, but you also know that he is nothing if not handsy, borderline clingy on his worst days. The concept of personal space is foreign to him, he’s rarely not touching you when you’re in his proximity, and when you aren’t, he closes that gap—so you’re confident that he’ll lose this game. 

And he does. It takes ninety-two seconds for Satoru to put his hands on you; his palms cupping your cheeks, forcing your jaw open for him to lick at your tongue. You yelp in surprise, try to take in your victory, taunt that you’ve won, but Satoru’s playing an entirely different game now. “I know, I lost,” he pushes his thumbs at the corners of your mouth, parting your lips and staring at your open mouth. Briefly, his eyes flicker to yours, drinks in your pliant expression, the soft touch of your fingers around his wrists, the feel of your body sinking below him, and he smiles, “But I want something else right now. Indulge me?” 

You tap at his right wrist and he moves his thumbs away from your lips, stroking against the soft skin of your cheeks instead so you can speak, “You lost, you’re not supposed to make demands.” 

“Take pity on a rookie like me, won’t you?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to kiss your cheek, then closer, just below your bottom lip, “Please, sweets?” 

“Depends on what you want,” you pout, but your words are strained against Satoru’s kisses. He grins, guiding a thumb back to your lips, this time pressing past the barrier of your lips until they’re wrapped around his digit, smile turning cheshire when he feels you sucking, “I have a different game we can play instead.” 

YUUTA OKKOTSU “Ah, ah—” you pull away from Yuuta, much to his dismay, pulling the hem of your shirt from his grasp, “That counts as touching. You’re not supposed to touch, Yuuta.” 

He’s looking at you intensely, gaze bordering on predatory, slow blinking with blown-out pupils. He nods shallowly, moving his hand from where it was to your side, palm pressing into the couch next to your thigh; it lets him that much closer to you, the tip of his nose grazing yours, you can feel his laborious breaths tickle your lips. Yuuta tilts his head ever so slightly and pauses, blinks, waits—for you to make a sound, for you to tell him no again, for you to run. 

You don’t. He shifts his weight and positions his other hand to rest at your side, caging you between his arms, slotting you underneath his gaze. You curl underneath him, backing up until you’re pressed against the arm of the couch, until Yuuta’s crawled to slot his knee between your legs. You crane your neck away, but you’re still within his reach, and now you’ve presented the perfect canvas for him. He dips his head into your collarbone, leaves a deceptively soft kiss there before nosing up the expanse of your exposed skin and sinking his teeth into your neck. 

Yuuta feels you tense underneath him, body going rigid in a moment of surprise, and then slacking with an exhaled moan, like a bitten bunny. Reflexively, your hands find purchase in his hair, and Yuuta nips over the tender skin, and smiles, “Caught you.” 

CHOSO KAMO “You’re nervous,” you conclude, pulling away from the shallow kiss Choso gave you. 

Beside you, he’s flushed, a hand coming up to reach at the back of his neck as he replies, “I don’t know why,” he exhales, “It’s just... weird to not touch you. I have to think about not touching you, and that means I have to think, which tends to make me, you know... nervous.” 

You giggle, leaning in closer to him, careful not to touch; careful to keep your hips raised above his, even as you straddle him, keep your arms and hands at your sides even though the instinct is to wrap them around Choso’s neck. He doesn’t pull back, even though he should; you like that he doesn’t. “You don’t like to think about me?” 

“No—no! Not like that,” he’s too loud for the proximity, sighing in embarrassment shortly after; you’re too close, way too close, and he’s not supposed to touch, but he wants to—Choso doesn’t like this feeling of restraint, of constriction; it’s too close to when he had a hopeless crush on you, to when he was pining and praying you’d spare him the time of day. Isn’t the point of dating that he gets to have you? To touch you, to hold you—to not hold back? 

“Because I like to think about you,” you admit, leaning in even closer, pressing a kiss to the base of Choso’s neck—and he whines, “I think about you a lot, Choso.” 

The sound of his name from your lips is sweet torture, as is the way you trail your kisses up his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear. Choso’s certain he’s going to rip a hole in his jeans with how taut he’s pulling them between his fists. This isn’t fair—nothing about this is fair. “I don’t want to play anymore,” Choso whines, eyes screwing shut when you suck a hickey onto his collar.

“But we’ve only just started,” you giggle against his skin, “And nobody’s won yet.”

Choso bites his lips, his knuckles are sore, his resolve is weak, and you smell good, you feel good—and he can’t do this. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care; he didn’t make you yours to try and stay away from you. So, Choso gives in, unwinds his fists, places one hand on your waist, and the other against your back, pulling you flush against him, and burying his face in your neck. 

“There, I lose,” he grumbles, not caring for your laughter reverberating against his chest, “Now I can touch you as much as I want.” 

YUUJI ITADORI “Th—this isn’t fair,” you tremble, attempting to move away from his kisses, but you’re caged in between Yuuji and the wall. There’s nowhere for you to run, nothing for you to grab purchase onto but Yuuji—nothing to do but lose. 

“I didn’t hear any rules against this,” he feigns innocence, suckling at your skin, “Think it’s fair game.”

You close your eyes, trying to focus on something, anything else, but it’s hard when all you can see, all you can feel is Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji. Kissing up your neck, at your cheek, then your lips, and you find yourself sighing into his touch, balling your hands into fists to avoid the temptation of cupping his face. 

Yuuji moans when he feels your tongue against his, kisses you back fervently, swirling his tongue across yours and into the cavity of your mouth. He inhales all your breaths, makes it impossible for you to do anything but succumb to his kiss, to swallow his moans, to take everything he gives you. You didn’t expect Yuuji to have this much resolve—you’d anticipated a short, cute round of a silly party game, but you should have known better; Yuuji has never lost a challenge before, and you were naive, at best, to think otherwise.

Predictably, it’s you that lets go first, whining when Yuuji sucks on your tongue, hands trembling and reaching to hold him, to cling to him as some kind of recourse, unable to squirm or move anywhere else. That doesn’t stop him—Yuuji only sucks harder, only forces more moans out of you until you’re digging your nails into his shoulders and bending your knees, weak. 

Then he pulls back, leaving you breathless, tilting his head up to kiss your forehead and flashing you a grin that’s equal parts boyish and wicked with intent, “I win.” 

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO It’s the kind of thing he usually turns down; cliché, fruitless, and unnecessarily time-consuming; but it’s you, so he makes the exception. You’re too eager, positioning yourself to sit on your hands, your legs folded under your knees, peering up at him from where he’s sat slack against the couch, and he thinks you look awful cute on your knees for him.

“Okay, ready?” you smile, “Three, two—” but Megumi already knows his plan, already has his lips on yours before you can say “one,” drinking in your surprised yelp and greedily licking against your tongue when you part your lips to kiss him back. He turns his body towards you slightly, taking advantage of his height and position to bully you into chasing him upwards, to push his tongue into your mouth with ease. 

He indulges in the back and forth for a while, sighs into your kisses, groans when you nip at him. It’s when you pull away, that Megumi decides he’s played along long enough; when he can see your chest swell with heaving breaths, see your hands in your lap, neck craned and spit-slick lips that drive him to reach for you. He’s less than gentle, hands finding purchase on your hips, and forcefully pulling you into his lap, ignoring your yelping, choosing to turn them into moans when he sinks his teeth into your neck. Megumi licks, and bites, and bites, and bites, until he’s certain he’s left a mark, until he feels your hands tugging at his hair and giving him permission to splay his palms against your back and buck you forward.  

“I lose,” he hums, soothing over raw bitten skin with open-mouthed kisses, “So, how do you wanna punish me?”

[kryzuuna]

SD-N

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I do think my favorite on-station Garashir dynamic is where Garak is just. painfully pathetic about Bashir. It's very funny to me.

Various Bajorans on the station will watch Bashir's and Garak's little lunches, and they'll be like, "oh no. the poor naive doctor is Going to be taken advantage of". And then they look a little closer and they see that actually Garak is fully whipped for that twink.

Like, sure, he's a former spy. He could kill you. But he's a little busy trying desperately to seduce Bashir without letting on that he's sad and also pathetic. He's making skimpy clothing in his shop that is Very Clearly Bashir-sized. He's arguing shamelessly. He put his hands on Bashir's shoulders during their very first meeting, for Prophet's sake!

Bashir is, of course, oblivious to this and, to their embarrassment, the watching Bajorans actually find themselves feeling bad for Garak. Is he morally dubious? Certainly! Was he a spy in the Obsidian Order? That's the rumor! Has he killed in cold blood? They'd stake their bets on it! But when a guy is pining that pathetically over the shiniest most naive Starfleet twink imaginable...

Well.

It's a little hard to stay afraid of him.

They figure that as long as they don't do anything to harm Bashir or Cardassia, they probably don't have anything to worry about.

[doctorsiren]

doodles I did while on a plane yesterday

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 6

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5]

[pendragonartz]

Instagram: pendragon_artz

[ciearcab]

something i got carried away with last weekend, i love this wonderful little game so much

[biblically-accurate-dca]

painting test with a limited color palette

here's the moon equivalent!

[0fps]

JANE DOE ❖ undercover r&b

The big bad daddy who cussed you out every day is gone and yet you still miss him. What are you, a bunch of daddy's boys?

[xwhitenoise]

the way a romanced astarion unpacks everything when you get the good ending for his personal quest is lowkey funny tho

like. he basically sums up the entire point of his journey and confirms explicitly that you did, in fact, make the exact right choices to help him grow????

the writers really drive home this idea of just "that's it! you did it! you uncovered the secret to making him a good person, and it turns out the only requirements were to give a shit about him and believe he's capable of doing the right thing!! literally just those two things and nothing else!!"

first in the graveyard

side note, "you trusted me when that was an objectively stupid thing to do" is one of my favorite lines because it just sums up really the whole experience of his romance gfjdklgjdf

then later in casual conversation

[tav: you saved yourself, i just gave you a push]

it's all really sweet and lovely and emotional but also. REALLY funny to me. because there are all those people who go "astarion is an irredeemable piece of shit with no soul and everyone who likes him is in denial of how much he sucks"

meanwhile astarion's just out there like "thanks for keeping me from becoming the worst possible version of myself by exercising empathy instead of just writing me off as a hateful pile of garbage ❤ love u"

really incredible. absolute masterpiece

[canisalbus]

In the animal hospital I work at we often joke about “white dog syndrome” in which they appear to bleed more than they actually do because of how brightly it stains their coats, causing even minor venipuncture errors to look like murder scenes. We have to clean them more thoroughly than other dogs to avoid upsetting clients. It makes me think of Machete every time. He seems like someone who would actually have a bleeding disorder too. White Dog Syndrome 2: Catholic Boogaloo.

[thatsmimi]

my hyper specific dungeon meshi headcanon is that chilchuck has a purely aesthetic crush on senshi but marcille makes it her own mission to Make Sparks Real bc she's sooooo romo pilled.

it goes nowhere bc neither chilchuck nor senshi are interested in dating let alone each other. however it makes for very funny scenarios.

re: chilshi: i kinda dont remember the og post for it but here are references from the top of my head. of course i believe it's somewhere ryoko kui did confirm that halflings generally admire dwarven beauty standards but bwaaah. let me have fun. bisexual chilchuck win.

[oreonyu]

sing me a song of birthrights and love

[heybiji]