Omg It's Nick Valentine

omg it's nick valentine

I was thinking about height and names in the wasteland.

Height: I think humanity would slowly evolve to become shorter just like how through the centuries we evolved to become taller.

In the Wasteland, I think, being shorter can help with survival. Or not. But to think about it we started to become taller because our lifestyle became much better than it was before and it, for some reason, led us to become taller means, to me at least, in the Wasteland while struggling with survival the reverse would happen.

Might really do something with survival, like better hiding or something with muscles, someone might know better than me anyway.

Names: Names are pretty important to us. We not only give names to humans, we name... well, just about everything. I think this might be different in the Wasteland. Names might lost their meaning. Some might not even have names. They might abandoned it or was never given any.

And so when you come across generic raider #5 then it might be his entire persona. He might think he is a raider, takes his entire identity as this, and that is all.

Or perhaps they just feel like they don't want to share their names while shooting at... well, anyone.

Also, as a bonus. Many people must have some mutations but not the super mutant kind of. Instead some little ones, what might not even be noticed. I heard somewhere the blue eye and when someone looks into the sun and sneezes is some kind of mutation, I was immediately thinking about it. Even if these 'facts' are not true, for idea they are cool.

Let's say we have Jimmy. Jimmy has, I don't know, thicc skull. The kind you can hit with a damn hammer and the hammer would break. He finds it completely normal because he was always like this, and he just jokes about it with others.

Not every mutation must be a bad kind of mutation because that just makes no sense. To me, at least.

The entire Earth was ravaged through nuclear fire, it become irradiated, many things, if not all, mutated. That amount of radiation caused that. Humans are not the same as they were before the war. They must have changed. In many ways. Those living the longest in the Wasteland, like being the descendants of others who also lived there, means they might have more than those who just recently moved out into the Wasteland.

JUST LOVE YOUR WORKS MATE, KEEP UP 💗🙌🏻 ✨

Don't know if you'll like the idea/request : Graves in his signature light blue grey-ish shaded hoodie written "Her commander" in Silver designed text , holding a bouquet of blue flowers ( any kind to your liking ) *😳*

I sent my fiance one of your recent Graves art to get a haircut like it ..He did it and wore dark blue to a wedding function..looking almost like him.... I was unavailable for 5 business days ...🫠

Thank you so much!!🥹❤️‍🔥 I made some adjustments from the inspiration you provided, hope you don't mind!🥰 I'm glad that my work can be a reference for you😳

doods

NEWS FLASH PLEASE READ

I love graves. And some hate him BUT HES THE ANTAGONIST THAYS WHAT THEY DO GUYS.

SECOND. SOAP IS NOT DUMBBBB. yes write how u please go ahead but he’s not dumb y’all he’s actually pretty tactical and intelligent. Ofc hes funny and silly! But he’s not dumb.

anyways, carry on everyone! 💕

Bathing ghost after a long mission. Like not bathing with him but literally washing him because he's exhausted. He'd be so grateful 🥺

bathing simon after a long mission

he's grateful as he leans back. the bathtub doesn't fit someone of his size, so he's crouched up to keep the warm water from overflowing the edge.

he feels your soft hands against his rough, scarred skin. simon is always fascinated by the smooth and soft texture of your hands in comparison to his calloused, rough hands. your palms heavenly against his milky skin.

you apply a non scented body wash onto his skin, lathering it until it became bubbly and foamy. you hum softly, the essence of the cinnamon and vanilla candle finding their way into your nostrils. he leans his head back and closes his eyes as you apply it onto his chest, slowly working your way around his ribs, making sure he shows no signs of discomfort.

“'s alright, si... you're with me.” you soothe simon with your words. your gentle tone making the sides of his mouth curl up into a tender smile – the smile you fell in love with.

the bubbles in the water, the soft smell of his natrual musk and the lights dimmed. it was soft and calming for the deeply traumatized man – your sweet boyfriend, a member of the SAS who broke his back working for his country. he works so hard for you, for those who care about him.

“thank you, dove...” he mutters out, barely above a whisper. you smile, giggling softly and rinsing the soap from his body. “'s no problems, anything for you.”