#im trash.

[samekindofblues]

“.. Somewhere between the sand and the stardust, through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I.
“- Lang Leav

[latigreblanche]

Hawks: Ughh, Enji, can we go to KFC?

Endeavor: *rolling his eyes* no.

Hawks: *whining* but Enjiiiii, I am hungryyyyyyy

Endeavor: *Turns to Hawks*

Hawks: wat

Endeavor: *dead serious* Hi Hungry, I'm dad.

Hawks:

Hawks: did you just-

Hawks:

Hawks:

Hawks: ...kinky.

[thecrandays]

is it bad that instead of writing my tyrus fic i’m brushing it off by writing trashy tarty fics ¿ welp someone take away my phone and laptop

[hired-help]

"Sexual Sunday” isn’t Charon’s thing (if looks could kill he’d murder me in cold blood right now just for wording it so mildly - it REALLY isn’t his thing), but I can share some vaguely related headcanons? 

Today we have, Charon’s type and what attracts him to someone, cos why not:

Pre-programmed Charon was given to the odd spontaneous encounter, I can’t imagine that many men aren’t. On a very superficial level, he liked conventionally pretty girls who modelled their look on pre-war images, and I think that’s because his family were so obsessed with the pre-war aesthetic. Gladys Smith was probably the world’s last #tradwife besides Brailee Ewers. Besides that, wastelander women who look like roughed up merc chicks wouldn’t be all that unusual, and it takes the unusual to catch his eye in the first place. The pre-war role, though, he’s not so hot on that. Nothing creepier than a girl sounding like your mom in bed or something; and he’d much rather this girlfriend was dressed like a seasoned raider and happy than neatly turned out and... Brailee Ewers. It really was purely the aesthetic he liked. There’s something about girls in pre-war dresses that makes him forget for a while that they might get shot at any second.

But, on a deeper level - and he’s always been like this - he won’t sleep with someone if he likes them any more than that, at least not right away. He suddenly becomes genuinely demisexual (not just in friendzone mode) - because it becomes more important. Maybe it’s those pre-war relationship standards, drilled into him by his father, kicking in from the depths of his memory, making him more aware that he should treat her like a traditional lady. Girls actually find it a little bit weird, especially if they were only looking for a hookup themselves. I mean... that kinda thing isn’t exactly prevalent in the CW. It’s... nice, they guess, but... unexpected, and probably comes off a little too serious. Especially since at no point is he not a slave, so what exactly is he thinking of when he has no future? But that’s fine, it’s not like he’s looking to marry one of them or anything. God, no. The idea of marriage scares the shit out of him, gives him flashbacks of Martha and makes him wonder what she’s doing now... other than their brother.

Post-programming - and particularly post-ghoul - all of this is forgotten, and the sexual and physical elements of his attraction just drop away. He’s so uncomfortable in his own skin, and his personality is so compartmentalised and locked down and zeroed in on his service as an employee, he no longer considers sexual relationships at all. But, he still has a personality, and he still is capable of independent thought, even if it has limitations. I did say yesterday that he’s a stone top and I stand by it, but damn if it ain’t a 0.01% chance of you finding that out. He’s definitely for the most part asexual, but he’s not entirely aromantic. It takes a lot more to drag up that kind of interest than it ever did before, though. It’s under layers and layers of nothing. If, somehow, someone did develop an interest in him, he wouldn’t know it. There’s almost nothing you could do besides straight up saying so, and even then he’d struggle to understand why you were saying it, because you can’t be serious. His programming stage seems to have aged him as well as damaged him. His mentality is more like an old man’s than a 20-something’s. He’s too tired for “love”.

If you did drag it up, though, it’d burn stronger than you might think, and he is paying attention, even if he won’t say so (can’t). Using @sugcrbomb as an example, as she’s my old LW I wrote him with about a century ago (though she’s no sort of Default Ship on this blog); watching Shilo edge closer to him was awful. He suspected she might have feelings for him - but only on a proximity based level, she’d lose interest as soon as she found her place in the world and surrounded herself with real people. He’d never consider it. But, still. Torturous, dizzying. It was like the emotional equivalent of watching a slow striptease, and the only way he ever expressed it was in redoubling his efforts to protect her. He never said he loved her, his shotgun did it for him. She responded to that with a deepening fascination. It took months, if not a year or so, but at the very end, they were almost perfectly in-sync with each other, and their fights with Talon or raiders, or anyone else, seemed eerily choreographed; because they were never closer than when they were trying to keep each other alive.

[trash-quark]

Bones Under the Dreadfort

Always quiet, the hooves of Domeric's horse hushed.

Tender huffs, less like war drums more like: the pages of a book,

turning turning.

Brother. Kin. Blood marbled water.

Wind-whipped and wild, Ramsay's horse careened, never cantered,

never kept time. It strewn gravel, startled whippoorwills,

uprooted histories.

Brother. Kin. Blood marbled marrow.

The crypts boasted no visitors, no tidings nor favors,

no men to notice Ramsay slinking,

to see

to remind

to touch,

his hands against his brother's porous bones.

A finger, a femur, a fetlock.

Domeric's corpse—accomplished even in death,

handsome in pallid lingering.

(A poison none too rough on the body: larkspur.)

Death took his skin, greedy postmortem flaying,

sloughed off to grease and lye.

Brother. Kin. Blood marbled lineage.

Ramsay's mouth was always moving, tongue a tiptoeing nightjar--

his brother's rib cage tasted like rot,

like a C sharp note on a harp,

like longing, like loss.

Yet he kissed it rib by rib.

Brother. Kin. Blood.

[macabrehq]

theme makeover

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[calihelps]

im thinking about starting an rpg, but it's been a hot minute! I was thinking something music or dystopian based; do you think you'd like to see either of those?

I’ve been feeling the same way but I never have the time to do anything like that. What do you mean by music though? Like xfactor kind of deal, camp rock, or just a tour? I honestly think there’s so much you could do with a music rp depending on what you’re doing with it. I’m sure a dystopian based roleplay would be cool. I’m not honestly sure what I’d like to see because I’m all over the place and kind of have to fall for the plot of a roleplay to join it. I’m a stubborn girl, I can never really describe what I want or like – I apologize, I wish I could be more of help and wish you the best in your endeavors! 

[breakiitdown-a]

ngl...... i wish there were more yandere sim rp blogs out there //