#This boy is repressed

[virgothozul]

old art I did after reading dog petting heist by @/robnauts on ao3 // @plounce on tumblr

It’s so tender and fun and soft and intimate and somehow goofy and quiet 😭💕 help i love it so much

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27356893 (Teen rating)

[myiliterallyhavenolifegoals]

the fact that Edwin lived in the early 1900s is a fantastic source of comedic potential. he's just constantly saying things that he doesn't realise are completely batshit insane, and the others are just left utterly floored.

like they're all talking and Crystal mentions she's tried cocaine once on a wild night out, and Edwin, who used to get that shit medically prescribed at the drop of a hat is like ??? okay?? hope you felt better, it always used to help me when I had a cold too :) Charles why are you laughing?

[chelsiegeorgia]

leaked dialogue for sonic 3 surely

[finleycannotdraw]

actually can we acknowledge “if you punish yourself, everywhere becomes hell” because GOD DAMN EDWIN that is. a very good line.

[sixteenvince]

Charles in 2019 : Jeez i don't know if Max is pretty 😧😥I'm a man I don't know 😰😰😰😰

Charles in 2024 : HOT! *SHOWS MAX PICTURE PROUDLY LIKE HES SMASHING THAT * 😍😘😘😘

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

i think im having a stroke

[vyeoh]

Fic where after realizing his feeling charles looks up edwardian courting tactics because he CANNOT chance edwin misunderstanding him after rejecting him the first time. he does his research and after countless books and internet dives, he's reached a solution: he will propose marriage

[the-woman-upstairs]

Really fucked up that, when they’re young, Patrick and Art are SO tactile with each other, so comfortable sharing the same space. Art lets Patrick touch him and move him and physically overwhelm him and easily acquiesces to it, if not outright enjoys it.

Then in the present, they’ve been so far out of each other’s orbit for so long, held such animosity that when they have their moment alone in the sauna, Art physically recoils from Patrick’s close proximity! It’s so painful to watch because even as Patrick’s goading him, it’s so obvious he wants to be able to get back into Art’s space. But Art has erected all these walls around himself, he refuses to give Patrick an inch or even admit to missing how close they used to be!

AND THEN we see Art and Tashi later and he wants her to hold him, to be gentle with him, and just TOUCH him. Like, he does miss that kind of close physical contact! He either doesn’t know how to ask for it or is uncomfortable being that openly vulnerable. Worth noting that he pretty much always defers to Tashi in regard to initiating physical intimacy (with their first kiss, though he does state his desire, SHE has to be the one to make the first move). And it seems pretty obvious that Tashi herself isn’t comfortable providing that intimacy, whereas Patrick actively seeks to provide it (the hug/forehead kiss after their win together in the early years, dragging the stool closer to him).

Art has tried very hard to act like he doesn’t need physical affection and even though his discipline and devotion to Tashi has made him a stronger tennis player, it’s made him a hollow person, which, in turn, has kept him from becoming a GREAT tennis player.

All of this, of course, is why the ending hits so damn hard.

[gwendolynnderolo]

edwin’s little gay panic film reel that plays in his head every time someone mentions the cat king is an entire mood

[hetaero]

my kink is a shy virgin boy automatically covering his face with his hands when I get him too flushed from arousal and I have to say "shhh, no hiding please, let mommy see" while gently prying the hands away from his face

[sweetlullabyebye]

Kinda wild that Edwin realizes his love for Charles and confesses to him like, the day after. Bro is not losing time

[myiliterallyhavenolifegoals]

What I do find low key funny is that in most shows/movies, when a character goes through their Traumatic Incident™️, they're almost always very tight lipped and secretive about what happened to them.

However if you speak to Edwin Payne for more than 20 minutes, not only will he tell you that he was in Hell, he'll give you a time scale and recommendations for restaurants there. He's leaving catty reviews on TripAdvisor. He's the Edwardian equivalent of a vlogger who had a bad time at a starbucks and has to make a 40+ minute call out video. Conceptually he should be Broody and Mysterious but he's fundamentally too much of a gay little bitch to keep shit to himself.

[edgebug]

PERCEPTION: Kim is kissing you! EMPATHY [Hard: Failure] - Seems like he's wanted to for a while, for some reason? LOGIC: You're enjoying this 'kissing Kim, who is a man' thing. ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You're enjoying it A LOT, bucko! LOGIC: You must be a member of the homo-sexual underground. LOGIC: But--wait. Something doesn't add up. You still like women. ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Failure] - This is unprecedented. A homo-sexual who likes kissing women? COMPOSURE [Godly: Failure] - Holy shit. You are going to get a terrible score in homo-sexuality. DRAMA: You are the world's worst homo-sexual.

KIM KITSURAGI: ... Detective? Are you okay? 1. [Composure - Challenging 17] Keep it together. It's fine if you're bad at homo-sexuality. You're new at it. 2. Have a panic attack.

[terresdebrume]

I wonder if Charles likes Edwin's bitchiness so much because Edwin is never afraid to tell people exactly what he's thinking and doesn't give a fuck about consequences

For someone who spent a solid chunk of his life walking on eggshells around a violent father and still does his level best to make people think he's a walking ball of sunshine, that has to feel refreshing as fuck

[andreacsenge]

Charles Rowland & Crystal Palace Dead Boy Detectives 1.03

meanwhile edwin in the bg:

[kiyoors]

stay

tsukishima kei x reader

warnings: afab! reader, mentions of unprotected sex, unclear relationship between reader and tsukki, kei is bad at feelings

you hear tsukishima shuffling in the bathroom as you lay on his bed.

looking up at his ceiling, you try to figure him out: is he the kind of guy who’ll kick a girl out after he sleeps with her? will he let you stay? should you get dressed and make a run for it while he’s busy?

instead, you stay where you are, only choosing to drape your arm over your face, the crook of your elbow resting over your eyes. you close them. you’ll leave it up to him to decide what he wants to do with you.

would he walk you home if he kicked you out?

eyes still closed, you hear him come back into the room. you brace yourself for rejection and the eventual walk of shame.

the bed dips as he kneels on it, inching closer to you.

you feel him tap the side of your naked thigh, “open your legs,” he says

you do so, choosing not to remove your arm from covering your face until you feel him clean the mess in between your thighs with a damp hand towel. you guess it’s the least he could do before kicking you out— given that most of the mess is his.

he sighs once he’s finished, discarding the rag, eyes still not meeting yours as he makes his way to the dresser across the room.

“you…” he drags the question out as he rummages through the top drawer.

“want a shirt?”

you hum, and he throws it over to you.

he’s pacing the room again, picking up the various clothing items you were each wearing before the night’s encounter.

you see him fold your pants, the shirt you were wearing, and your bra. he picks up your panties and finally, shyly, meets your gaze, cheeks coloring.

he throws these at you, too. you to put them on.

he’s back to his drawers, pulling out a clean pair of sweatpants for himself. the waistband rests low on his waist as he finally, finally, comes back to bed.

“umm,”

you take this as your cue to leave, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed, searching his room for your phone, your keys, your wallet.

“i tend to run pretty cold at night,” he begins, clearing his throat, “do you want an extra blanket incase-

“are you leaving?”

he cuts himself off when he realizes you’re collecting your belongings, your pants already in hand, waiting for you to put them on.

you feel like a deer caught in headlights. your mouth falling open into a soundless oh.

“you want me to stay?” you ask him, unsure

immediately, tsukishima gets defensive, closing himself off, “i mean, no one’s forcing you to.”

he looks away, and you feel like hitting yourself with a hammer repeatedly.

“text me when you get home.” is all he says, still not meeting your eyes.

“tsukki-”

“what.” his tone is harsh. he’s furiously picking at the skin around his cuticles.

“i-i want to stay,” you tell him, nearing him where he is sitting on the edge of his bed. while he still pretends to be upset, he’s readily parting his legs for you to nestle in between them, burrowing his head in your stomach as you stand in front of him, your fingers immediately moving to scratch his scalp the way he likes. his hands gently cup your ass, bringing you closer.

tsukishima breathes in the scent of you and him mixed together through his shirt. you’re good to him. too good sometimes.

the truth is he wants you to stay in his bed (and his heart, and his life) forever.

“call me kei,” he tells you finally, softly, “s’the least you can do after asking me to cum inside you.”

“kei,” you say, smile on your lips, savoring the syllable, “can you get me an extra blanket?”

he huffs, pulling you down to lay beside him, “you won’t need one after i’m done with you.”