Evangelion Characters As Texts

I want to know what the main fandom you followed me for is.

HEY THIS IS IMPORTANT whats your favorite place to find drawing references?

I will forever respect Animorphs for tricking kids who are just really into animals to read a book series by going “Hey you, you daydream about what it’s like to be a dolphin or a bird or a wolf? Have I got a book for you!” and then slowly radicalizing them with 50+ books of “There are no winners in war. Whatever ‘victory’ you perceive comes at the cost of sacrificing your own morals and killing the part of you that is human. In the end you will resort to murder, torture and war crimes and the knowledge of what you have done will haunt you for as long as you live.”

the tags on this post are killing me

You're telling me THIS reader is seeing through an omniscient viewpoint?

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Bob: *seductively takes off his glasses*

Bob: Wow~

Hangman: What?

Bob: You’re really fucking Blurry

I can’t get over this lmaooo

One Rookie and Grenade Grifball

I’m posting a lot more of this on AO3 later, but RvB stuff seems to thrive on Tumblr more. So, have a fun bit of competence, explosions, and sass from Agent Washington’s first time out with the Alpha Team of Project Freelancer.

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“It’s not that hard to say,” York protests.

Maine rolls his eyes. “Faster,” he points out. Growling out Carolina in the field is difficult enough, and he’s just threatened to beat York into the floor if he keeps making Maine use more than one syllable to get York’s attention when they’re under fire.

“I get it, I get it, fine,” York gives in—and then they both look up as the leaderboard changes.

“Son of a bitch,” York mutters. Washington? The rookie who’s only two months older than the Disaster Triplets?

Maine makes a thoughtful sound.

“No, I didn’t expect him to be the one to replace Georgia, either.” Washington has just ranked into the top ten faster than anyone aside from Carolina, Maine, and York, knocking South Dakota’s smug ass out of fourth place. Right now, the rookie is sitting at number eight, below everyone else except Connie and Alabama, but the fact that he’s sitting at number eight instead of ten? That’s crazy. “Isn’t Washington still a teenager for another few weeks?”

Maine grunts. “Pilot.”

York sighs. “Yeah, I know. I was eighteen and stupid once, too.” Indulging in his pre-war bored kid habit of breaking-and-entering is where he should have started, but the UNSC doesn’t exactly look for self-admitted juvenile criminals to join the ranks. He still doesn’t know how the hell the Councilor and Project Freelancer knew about his old hobby, because York never got fucking caught.

When they meet with Washington again, this time with the rookie on the leaderboard as one of them, Maine stares at Washington in silence. Then he growls out, “Wash,” and that’s what sticks.

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