rex-goes-silly - Tumblr blog

[rex-goes-silly]

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One of my favorite things about voxval is how open they are to each other. They are a freak4freak relationship and they know it, so they don’t usually feel the need to hide things. Whatever’s on their mind, a niche kink they want to try out, some minor thing that pissed them off—they’re free to yap without worrying it will make the other person think worse of them, because they already know what they signed up for. The one thing they are quieter about is how much they love each other, and to me that is just so delicious, so juicy. Is it because of pride? Not wanting to have a weakness in such a dog-eat-dog world? Denial? Fear of looking foolish if it all was just a game/fling to the other person? Answers may vary depending on the flavor of voxval but they all have so much potential! The tv x moth ship has taken over my brain.

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ooohohoho i like this a lot

cuz of course the thing you hate most in your living life isn't gonna get better when you die and go to HELL, it's gonna haunt you for the rest of your days. but at the same time vox tries to fight it, by rising to power and upgrading himself, trying desperately to make his condition better with new parts and better technology that hurts a little less. but he can't never really escape his eternal punishment.

also something something being dependant on machines to keep you alive, and turning in a machine yourself (probably not really, idk how the healthcare was in the 50s but COOL CONCEPT)

I personally am obsessed with the idea of Vox being a very sickly child/person in life (and not just for projection reasons).

I think him being raised under the believe that he was vulnerable/weak would likely contribute to his near-desperate need to be seen as strong once he escaped that reality (it was a way of taking back power he had long since been denied).

I also think it would make his descent into becoming “the television demon” all the more interesting. Because now instead of having weak bones and frailer lungs, instead of having scars in the crooks of his elbows from the points of IV needles and an impossibly pale complexion for all the time he spent bed-ridden, he has metal joints that refuse to bend in a way that doesn’t ache and crisscrossed wires that when jolted incorrectly send a wave of pain through him (like a sick imitation of a nerve ending) and a screen that cracks and splinters in ways even his shitty eyesight didn’t used to.

There’s poetry in something weak finally finding strength only to be made so again in a new and entirely foreign way, one that defies all their previous fixes and upends what little consistency their life still held.

(also because I relate the feeling on a personal level and want to project that onto the capitalist for my own comfort)

Something something Vox has asthma and was the type of child who needed to be taken to the seaside to better his constitution, send post

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they

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theres something so beautiful about things becoming dirty from their job. like a painter's desk being covered in paint stains, or a gardeners pants having mud stains that wont wash out, or a cutting board being stained from all the foods that have been cut on it. just a clear, distinct telling of "this was used as intended and it shows" an object clearly showing it's been used and loved

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human!voxval

They've been playing this little game for months, now. The will we, won't we, do you even deserve me?

Would you tolerate this for a chance with me, would you do as i say in hopes of a reward, would you even be here if there wasn't something you still wanted out of all this?

(...)

And after all the foreplay, all the drama, they lay together in what's nothing less then all-encompassing fervor. It's hot, and it's great, but it's mechanical and then...

Val pulls back for something as simple as a breath. And Vox chases, he chases without a hint of the coy playfulness that should come with such an act.

No, instead, it's a pursuit full of admission. Don't go. I want more of you. I can play nice, see? —His kiss turns soft, and he drags his fingers to trace the line of his jaw, the stubble that frames that gorgeous face— Stay with me. I can't look away. You're a work of art. And I need you.

...Suddenly, as much as Val loves to pretend, it's not a joke anymore. Like a wild fire tamed to a little candle, sheepish, yet alive all the same. Pretty, and dim compared to it's previous rage; quivering to break at the smallest gust of wind, were hands not bound to encasing it's heart. Hands that Vox replaces with his own, that cup rather than enclose, admire rather than hide, and love instead of fear.

And Valentino is in awe. That such a merciless, cruel bigot like Vox would both show his own red, beating heart to him like this, and tend so gently to Valentino's own in the same breath. In the same kiss. In the same deep, helpless look in his eye that turns Val's world and his insides upside down.

They've gone from heated to slow, from mindless to curious, from nothing to everything. —And Valentino can't quite bring himself to lament any of it.

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song wouldn’t get out of my head.. this was the result

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the skincrawiling urge to come back to hetalia fandom is back again, someone send help QUICK

AAAAAAHHHHHH

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call it what u will, identifying with an animal is one of the most ancient and universal human experiences. the oldest known depiction of a human has a lions head. i am being dead serious when i say there are few things in this world more normal than being a furry

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Is this the founders cut

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Lange Sitzung

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Nadja said:

“Lazlo’s not just my husband or number one fuck-buddy, he is also my best friend!”

And my bar for romance was raised to the heavens!🥲🤌🖤🖤🖤🖤

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This was funnier in my head