#jk you CAN'T

[netbug009]

okay but

When Shepard first flirts with Garrus, he says he doesn't have a human fetish and responds to her less like he's into it and more like it logically makes sense. "Sure, why not, there's nobody I respect more than you, let me look up some biology stuff."

Then, once Shepard has been in a relationship with him for a while, he's suddenly constantly talking about how hot she is.

In conclusion:

👏DEMISEXUAL👏GARRUS👏VAKARIAN👏

[thevillagequeer]

Five would absolutely destroy you're a mean one mister grinch

[writer-of-worlds]

All types of Edeleth are valid.

Change my mind.

[themintiris]

This show was a masterpiece change my mind

[crabsnpersimmons]

thanks for the positive response to himbo Moon! he also wanted to say thanks:

some extras under the cut!

Edit: Image descriptions added!

no text version:

oh and in case you're curious about what his new body looks like, i managed to remember to take a picture of the sketch before inking! he basically has glamrock freddy's model design, except his legs and feet are more slender so he can be more light on his feet:

also... i did the math (meaning, i eyeballed a height chart with freddy's model and put the numbers in an ellipse calculator i found online)—freddy, and therefore moon here, has a bust size of 179.74 cm or 70.76 inches (almost 5'11" circumference).

writing muse: not thicc enough. the world record for the largest muscular chest is 74 inches!

...do with that information what you will

this is what i did with that information (with a cameo of @vacantfields's android moon! they've got a bit of rivalry/affair/kismesis between each other ♠️)

poor hairdresser himbo moon isn't as flexible as he used to be :')

[bastardsunlight]

Green Lantern, I want a love like whatever the fuck you and Green Arrow have going on

“Well, citizen, crass language aside, I think the best place to start is a trip across your home country, to see the sights, meet the people, and find the heart of it… maybe along the way, you’ll find your own.”

[itsscottiesstark]

Everyone keeps asking Neil to do the apology dance since season 2 came out and they keep saying he likes hurting us BUT WHAT ABOUT THE APOLOGY DANCE WE'LL ALL OWE HIM AFTER SEASON 3 COMES OUT AND IT ALL RESOLVES BEAUTIFULLY AND WE GET OUR HAPPY ENDING?

We believe in you, Neil.

@neil-gaiman

[behbita]

[mishapen-dear]

tbh i think that even unwinnable fights should be winnable. some of the BEST fights i've ever run as a dm were ones i built kill the players (in a fun way. I had some cutscenes prepped so even the loss would be a different flavour of win)- but then they were clever bastards and managed to either win the fights or pull themselves out of trouble. I think it's perfectly fine to plan for a fight that players aren't supposed to win, but you need to let them. if they can't win, they can't lose, and the meaning of that encounter is diminished. do that too many times, and they stop trusting you to give them roleplay prompts and start expecting to sit there waiting while you drive the story for them.

but if they can win... if there is always the chance to win, no matter how impossible the odds, then they ALWAYS have hope. they always get invested. they feel the big emotions of success or the big emotions of failure, and you fucking Win as a dm/roleplay prompter/lead bastard.

[essektheylyss]

Conrad and Justin really are so sweet and heartwarming, but there is something that makes me lose my mind about them being friends in particular.

Given Mark Bition having such an influence in the city, with Mayor Logic being elected because, you know, it just made sense, and just Elias Hodge's general career path and interests, Justin could've been running with the big dogs. People who are ambitious and rational, particularly those funneled into siloed scientific development jobs for those traits, often justify their actions extensively. Progress, the momentum of civilizations, the greater good, economic upswing—these are all justifications for scientific and technological development that work well on the people doing the work as much as they do on those funding it. It is a simple story to tell.

But Justin isn't with those people. He's with Conrad, the stunted conscience that has been neglected and ignored out of pain and fear and anxiety for years. He's been encouraging Conrad to act, to speak up, to push through those fears to make a change, and after all of those years, he is still Conrad's best friend.

Even when Conrad thought he had been wrong, Justin didn't. Which means Elias Hodge knew all along that his conscience was right.

[samd1o1]

Hear me out; New crack ship?

[thecoolerliauditore]

beauty of the divorce quartet actually is that no matter where you draw the relationship lines you get a fun and fucked up dynamic to think about

[limitedanomalies]

No please take off your shoes!

I think he spoiled his boys…

[real-south-park-confessions]

not enough fanfic writers take advantage of just how fucking weird the canon of this show

[thomacrumbs]

you're on your own, kid, you always have been.

childe x gn! reader, soulmate au (flowers bloom on your skin where your soulmate got hurt, they fade away when your soulmate touches them). so like....... i was going through my files and realised i never posted this (i think. at least. its been like a year) so i edited it. enjoy 🥳

“your soulmate flowers-- they’re gone!”

the woman from the docks had pulled your arm towards her and awed, running her fingers over the nicks in your arm, “did you meet them?”

you were notorious for the laurestines that budded upon your arm, seeking to nestle themselves into every crook and cranny of your body. it was worse when you were younger, around 14 was when you first started choking on the white of laurestines, throat erupting in pain as you tried to suppress the bile, terrified at what was happening-- and worse, what was happening to your soulmate?

“i did.”

“what are they like?”

tartaglia-- or sweetheart, as he makes you call him. he clung to you like a drowning man, mouthing at your neck as gloved hands intertwined themselves with yours, the bundle of white dying at his lips and shrinking before turning into nothingness. he presses into you with a chuckle, breathing you in as his hand finds the laurestine that matches the bruise he had gotten in sparring against the traveller, his fingers tracing love hearts around the bud before he strokes his thumb over the flower, finger pressing flat against your skin in a soft smother, idyllic murmurs trailing out of his mouth as he sighs and rubs his cheek against your shoulder.

“he’s… something.”

you had grabbed him by the arm, and with a smile on his face the idea of the perfect soulmate turns to pull you in closer. the snezhnayan breeze cards through his hair. he’s perfect, a reflection of the ideal, tall, handsome, impossibly rich-- not to mention just the right balance of loving & protective. his fingers always found earnestly drawing daisies into your skin and the constant seeking to intertwine his pinkie with yours. his love, delivered & tied so neatly as the bow that adorned the box that accompanied the letter he sent from liyue-- frivolous fancies and trivial dreams spouted across paper in dark ink that had the same highs and rolls as him, with straight lines and stabbed dots.

but under all that is the boy who found himself in the abyss, the one who made you cough up flowers and leave you stroking at your throat and humming pains out years later. the one who does not know the difference between the red on his hands-- whether it is his or someone else’s. but when he sees the red on your hands, and that glassy look you watch him with, he does nothing but kneel at your feet, mumble quiet apologies as he traces the bud, flower not even truly open and in full glory as it dies, silent in its short uneventful life.

“what’s wrong?” he had asked, once, pulling his gloves on as the two of you stand by the door of your house. the world howls outside.

but you can only shake your head, words suddenly stuck in your throat, unable to be coughed out.

“be safe,” is the only thing that slips out, croaked under the veil of moonlight across the cold.

in these plains of broken towers, beyond the cold of the mountains and snow of the loveless land, you found sparking familiarity cradled between your hands and pulled out of your throat.

“its just a fatui meeting,” at your huff, he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead as if you were made of glass, his gloved knuckles running up and down your arm in a poor imitation at a will for warmth, “alright, i’ll be careful.”

and you let him go, all that is left of him.

[andiwriteordie]

now that the hopper/mike antagonism is apparently gone, can we graduate to a jonathan/mike antagonism?

like season 5, jonathan is just... consistently giving mike the evil eye in the background of every shot they’re in together. making sarcastic as hell remarks. being an overall, petty asshole to him, even though jonathan is relatively kind to everyone else.

mike trying to gain jonathan’s favor again because he thinks jonathan is just being a protective brother over el but never realizing jonathan is actually just being a protective brother over will