#anyways i love them and theyre beautiful

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Chat have we discussed drunk chess with cherik cause i just think. That would be the darnedest silliest thing they could do

[deoidesign]

"I'm the dog they put with cheetahs to keep them from going crazy in captivity" x "I'm the cheetah that is threatening to go crazy" 4 ever

(I make a webcomic about them)

[dent-de-leon]

can you imagine being Essek and watching this tiefling on a total power trip turn into a 10 feet tall--incredibly ripped??--god and kill the boy you're catching feelings for?? And brand you with some kind of evil cursed hivemind magic you're worried might corrupt you forever?? This thing that your friends swear was once family, but all you see is something monstrous and otherworldly and tearing himself apart at the seams, screaming when all their loved ones call out to him??

Just. the way it must have felt to see Lucien go from that to. Just the most sweet and affectionate little tiefling. Gentle and curious and so full of joy and wonder. He's got the brightest smile and warm eyes and this mischievous playfulness. He runs off at first--startled, scared. But then once he's calmed, the first real word he says other than Empty is Love. And right after that he calls out for his Magician, for this man who did everything he could to save him, held him close and kissed him so tenderly on the forehead--

And Caleb throws his arms around Essek and Veth and just watches the Nein all descend on Tealeaf and embrace him amidst laughter and tears and Molly's starting to smile again and Caleb's so so happy just to see him finally alive and.

In that moment, Essek understands why they came all this way--

[yappyappyapp]

babe, only you.

jack hughes x reader

to feed my jack obsession recently, here’s a bit of angst and fluff (no mature content). please, enjoy.

also: there’s no proofread, so..

—————————

you found yourself always wondering; “am i good enough for him?”, “do i deserve him?”. comments had been lashed out earlier this evening to darken those already eerie thoughts that you fought so hard to not reside with. a long, long stay.

jack came into the room, that was the man that’s ‘in love with you’. those thoughts slashed at your mind little cuts kept wracking your head. the trance you were in was broken by your lovers lips lovingly placed onto your head, and you felt the couch slightly dip when he sat down beside you. his arm snaked around your shoulders and pulled you close to him, your head lying on his shoulder.

no one questioned if he did enough in this relationship. no one made snarky comments on how he was so quiet, how he looked like he never put enough effort into how he showed his love, but they did to you. and it was torture trying to hit those thoughts out of your brain. every single one of those comments lingered for longer and longer each time someone made another.

“what’s wrong?”

his soft voice lingered in the room as he ran his calloused hands up and down your arm. the television was playing in the background, an old re-run of big bang theory, muted, but with subtitles.

“jack, it’s just,” you started, why couldn’t you form words. a pang in your heart stung against your chest. “i don’t deserve you.” you whispered, he froze, eyes straying from the tv and to your slumped form against him.

“what makes you think that?” he murmured, his blue eyes connected with your glossy (e/c) ones.

“i- im not good enough-“ you were cut off by a sweet kiss to the lips. “don’t talk like that. i don’t care if your quiet, i don’t care what people say about our relationship, (y/n)!” he exclaimed. “people don’t know you, and how lucky i am to actually know and to be with you. i thank anyone in the skies above that they let me hold your hands. you are everything, my universe, my world. don’t let people tear into you.”

he rubbed his hands up and down your spine as you sobbed painfully into his chest, dampening his shirt.

the thoughts were still there, but at least you had someone to guide you along this long and winding road.

“i love you.”

[many-gay-magpies]

god what really gets me about dead boy detectives and what i think i love so much about the show and the relationships in it is that like. the romantic and sexual relationships aren't portrayed as being more unique or important than the platonic relationships. they're all just RELATIONSHIPS.

charles and crystal's attraction to each other and eventual hookup isn't this big end-all be-all relationship that shatter charles and edwin's friendship and draws charles' attention away from edwin; it's just a THING that happens. they're just two people that care about each other and happen to also be attracted to each other, and a hook-up happens, then they decide that neither of them are in the right place for it and it's nothing awful. crystal kisses charles, but it isn't some big spectacle of her declaring her love for him; it's just her saying goodbye and that she cares about him, like her hugs with niko and jenny and her handshake with edwin.

edwin realizes he loves charles romantically and tells him, and charles says he doesn't really love edwin romantically BACK, but it's okay, because they still love each other so much in so many other ways that this one tiny difference could never change them—and it doesn't!! they're still just as close, still care for each other just as much, still SHOW that care for each other just as much. their relationship didn't completely end because edwin loved charles in a way charles couldn't reciprocate, but at the same time it isn't "solved" by edwin getting over it, because there's nothing TO solve. it's just another type of love, added to everything that already exists between them. and they have LITERALLY FOREVER to figure out what it means.

the relationships between edwin & niko, crystal & niko, and crystal & edwin aren't given any less weight for being solely platonic, just as charles & crystal's relationship and edwin's feelings for charles aren't given (that much) MORE weight for being romantic. crystal and charles' conflict in the closet is about EDWIN, about how they're BOTH his friend and BOTH want to get him back; it has very little to do with the feelings between THEM, romantic or otherwise. similarly, the weight of charles' and edwin's relationship isn't diminished in the LEAST by charles not reciprocating the romantic side of his feelings (or SAYING he doesn't reciprocate, at least—we can all argue about the legitimacy of that in the notes).

i'm sure there are more examples than this, as well as probably some examples that CONTRADICT this, but like... by and large, it feels like dead boy detectives is a show where all the relationships are given equal weight regardless of platonic, sexual, romantic, or familial status, and as someone on both the asexual and aromantic spectrums who has struggled time and time again with shows casting out the importance of all other relationships in favor of prioritizing romance, that is INCREDIBLY refreshing to see.

[scumpatrol]

[rafyki]

Compilation of all the secret little smiles Jack has for Joke during ep 5

He hasn't forgiven him yet - yeah sure, that's why he keeps looking at him like that, of course

The "i can't believe he got so hurt while trying to help me and now he keeps apologizing to me" smile after treating his wounds

The "secretly listening to him and finding him so cute and nice" smile

The "oh my god he might be talking about me" smile

The "oh woah he's such a good person" smile

And finally the "yeah who am I kidding I had already forgiven him from the start" smile

Really, our boy Jack never stood a chance

[bochedogmeat]

So. Ive been kind of turning this au around in my head like a rotisserie chicken bc i obviously want to keep as many details as possible consistent with canon, but also that is kind of impossible given the massive leaps in technology between mouthwashing’s distant future and. Well. 1917. So what happens is that i figure their platoon is being court-martial’d for something (maybe cowardice/refusal to follow orders? For getting stuck up in the mountain bunker?) and Jimmy suggests blowing up the bunker theyre in so that they would have solid evidence that it wasnt their fault. Curly, still reeling, agrees, not thinking it would go anywhere, but Jimmy nabs the explosives from swansea and goes through with it anyways.

…more ramblings below v

Jimmy, in this au, was aware that Anya is trans before they were even stationed together, and becomes aware that Curly may be an invert (which, historically, means that he is not only queer, but adopts the ‘woman’s role’. This phenomena of inverts being treated more harshly than their more ‘manly’ counterparts is supported by history! Fun fact) while on the Ypres frontline. He is resentful towards Curly because how can a supposed invert, someone whom he has been taught is less than half of the man Jimmy himself is, be such a well-loved leader and well-rounded man? Why is Jimmy so drawn to him? Why does he still respect and even love this ‘man’? What does that say about his own masculinity?

The cognitive dissonance is too much for his weak, spiteful, hateful little pea brain and he feels like he is losing what little control he had over his own masculinity and understanding of the social world to begin with. This leads him to assault anya and, added with the stress of a court-martial, blow the bunker up.

I figure they give Curly what little chloroform they have in the medical kit to keep him asleep until they run out/it starts making him too sick and are forced to start giving him soothing syrup and gin in large doses. Anya and Curly had something of a mutual understanding/budding friendship before the incident, both having had a sense about the other, which makes Curly’s subsequent inaction suck all the more. He understands Anya better than anyone else there, so why didnt he do anything? Anya doesn’t understand, and she never gets to ask. She still takes extreme care in tending his wounds though, and will often go to his bedside and tell him stories/play cards with him (and by that i mean play cards by herself and narrate her strat)

I also figure the whole thing happens over a matter of days as opposed to months because. You know. 1917. But anyways. If anyone wants to talk about this w me/add on to it, any musings are more than welcome!! I love queer and ww1 history :) see tags for more tidbits❤️

[absurdumsid]

If you still taking requests can I have some error x nightmare?

ABSOLUTELY !! errormare cant kiss ? errormare cant hold hands ? NO, I. WILL ! MAKE !! IT !!! WORK !!!!

Error! Sans belongs to CrayonQueen/LoverofPiggies

Corrupted! Nightmare belongs to jokublog

[radioactive-mouse]

martyn/grian is so wild to me because like. yeah i get that they don’t interact a whole lot but i don’t think i’ve literally ever seen it in the wild. i don’t think i’ve ever even heard a ship name for them or ANYTHING. i am alone in my little sailboat sandwiched between two aircraft carriers labeled TREEBARK and SCARIAN. like not that i’m not also insane abt those two but like NO ONE? NO ONE IS HERE WITH ME? “ohhhh theyre narrative foils 😈” yeah yeah we all know now draw them making out like a man

[boyfriendyke]

there r a lot of things about the myth of psyche and eros that makes me a little insane but one of them has always been the tasks from aphrodite and the unfairness of it. they're not intended to be possible. they're so obviously not meant to be possible, and psyche isn't fucking hercules, you know, she's not a demigod or whatever, she's mortal and these aren't mortal tasks!! it's why psyche has to be helped with each one, fucking by like ants and river gods and shit. and so like. idk. i know ppl see psyche and eros as like a story about love and shit which obviously it is but as a kid psyche and eros always felt like a story about being able to accept help

[hazyupset]

“… I actually feel happy.“

@gothic-mothic….. ur narrator…. i hope i did him some justice its hard coloring a man with one color and trying to make him scruffy….

[good-beanswrites]

Fuuta x Kotoko?

Waah I hope the fact that this ran a little long makes up for the lateness -- I really love the idea and was so excited to get the request!! They'd be so interesting and affect each other so much...... it makes me crazy...... It becomes canon divergent at the end because I genuinely think being in each others' company more would influence them both

Kotoko was nothing if not observant. Over the years, she’d found herself in – and gotten herself out of – enough situations to get a good read on the people she interacted with. No matter what this world threw her way, she could always rely on those abilities. And from the moment she met Milgram’s third prisoner, those abilities told her he was nothing but trouble. 

“Oi,” he’d called across the dining table during the first meal they all had shared. “What did you do to get here?”

From the moment she woke up in this strange place, Kotoko had kept to herself. It’s dangerous to charge forward and introduce oneself to a group of mysterious murderers when there are no locks on the doors. She hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, the others smart enough to heed her intense look and stay away. 

Fuuta, on the other hand, was the first to speak directly to her. He stared impatiently.

“Well?”

She noted his directness. His volume. The brashness and vulgarity she’d heard earlier in the day. His motivations and values he’d let slip in his early defenses. His anger and his fear. The suspicion in his gaze, as well as the need for reassurance in his voice. In that moment, the information clicked together in her mind, and Kotoko realized two things:

Kajiyama Fuuta was a lot like her, in the obvious ways.

Kajiyama Fuuta was nothing like her, in the ways that really mattered.

“The same reason as everyone else, I suppose,” she said carefully. He may have revealed his whole hand, but from experience she knew better than to do the same.

A lot of her experiences returned to her as the trial went on. She went through the motions of coaxing secrets out of quiet men, or playing along with cheery girls’ games to uncover what she was looking for. She remembered how it felt on stakeouts as she kept her eye on the warden’s door, and recalled the thrill of negotiation when she had a moment alone with them. And unfortunately, she recognized the immediate sensation of being tailed. She was used to shaking an unwanted follower out on the streets, but it was difficult to do the same when the only places to go consisted of three rooms and a corridor. 

No matter how inconspicuous Fuuta thought he was being, Kotoko got a glimpse of that bright hair retreating around corners just behind her. She could feel his eyes boring into her back, always conveniently whipping away by the time she turned to look. The only thing that seemed to affect his permanently blaring volume was when she was speaking nearby – unlike a real stalker who would tactfully pretend not to be listening in, Fuuta would use the opportunity to jump into all her conversations.

Kotoko was in the middle of her morning stretches when she became aware of his presence lurking around the doorway. After several weeks of the behavior, she’d had quite enough. Kotoko knew that if you can’t shake a tail, there’s only one other option. 

She stepped out of her cell, swiftly reaching for Fuuta’s collar. With a handful of his uniform, she shoved him back against the cell bars. For someone that had creeped on all her daily exercise routines, he seemed awfully shocked at how strong she was.

“Stop following me.” She kept her voice low and even. “I don’t know what you want from me, nor do I care. I will –”

“I don’t want anything from you!” 

He raised his voice in an attempt to sound tough, but only succeeded in coming off desperate. He tried to weasel out of her grasp to no avail. She’d had practice intimidating guys three times her height – it was almost too easy now that she had an inch or so on Fuuta. 

“Don’t give me that oblivious crap. Every day. Every single day, you –”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re the one who acting fucking crazy!”

Even after knowing it was in vain, he kept squirming under her harsh look. His eyes flicked frantically around the room, only able to take in her stone cold expression for a brief moment at a time. He kept shouting his own defenses, his cheeks growing more red by the second.

This time, the information gathered took a bit longer to fall into place. One of her conclusions was something Kotoko was very used to. The other was something she’d never quite experienced before. For the first time in long career of poker faces, she visibly started upon realizing two things:

Kajiyama Fuuta was downright terrified of her.

Kajiyama Fuuta was hopelessly attracted to her.

She hurriedly released him, jerking herself away. “Just… stay out of my way.”  

“I was never in your way!” He shouted after her, his voice still shaking.

She should have stuck to her own demand and kept her distance; she was already aware of how much trouble this prisoner was capable of. But she took pride in her abilities to gather information of interest. And god, was Fuuta interesting. 

Between his constantly running mouth and his never running filter, he was always keeping her on her toes. She’d never met anyone who pressed her for answers like that – Fuuta was never satisfied with the explanations that could placate everyone else. He was always questioning, always pushing back. Though his talk could be as shallow as the older prisoners' melancholy musings, or the children’s gossipy chatter, it was different when he and Kotoko really went at it in a debate.

Fuuta talked shamelessly about society, about the other prisoners, and about her. The others kept their distance from someone as quietly calculating as her, but Fuuta would pour out his thoughts right to her face. He had her back when she was trying to prove a point to the others, but was too stubborn to compromise on any of own opinions when they conflicted. It was refreshing. 

And that was all it was, she would remind herself. The man would be insufferable if he was ever under the impression that she so much as tolerated his company. For everyone’s sake, he should remain completely unaware.

Awareness, however, was the very thing Kotoko prided herself in. She picked up on exactly what the warden was trying to communicate by granting her innocence. She was aware of the opportunities that arose with their disappearance. She noted the best time to fulfill her duties to them. She knew the optimal order to attack each prisoner in, to guarantee success.

It was due to her beloved observation skills that she found herself in cell 003 in the middle of the night. It didn’t matter how many training sessions Fuuta had spectated, or how many she’d invited him to join – he wasn’t as perceptive as she. He couldn’t predict or counter a single one of her movements. It only took a few moments for her to have him pinned on the ground.

“Y-you were serious?” Fuuta managed, even as her weight made it difficult for him to breathe. 

She’d confided in him about her deal with the warden, one late night long before verdicts were announced. She didn’t know what had driven her to do it. It had been a rare lapse in her judgment. The current situation only confirmed why she should never reveal more information than necessary. Why she should get closer to someone than necessary. 

“I am always serious.”

“Kotoko…”

She knew all of Fuuta’s typical arguments and excuses, and she had a rebuttal for each. She wound her arm back, her brass knuckles reflecting in the dim panopticon light. 

“...J-just… do it fast.”

Kotoko’s arm wavered. 

“What?”

“I’m not a fucking idiot. Even before that brat called you innocent, I knew that y-you were the one in the right. I used to think that you and I were the same, but I know that was all a lie. You were always the real hero. M-more than anyone else in this shithole. So…” Fuuta closed his eyes, squeezing tears from them. “Make it quicker than you did for that asshole, will ya?” 

Kotoko gripped her fight tighter. It was trembling. 

Fuuta’s eyes remained shut in fear. In trust. His breathing was erratic as he pretended not to be crying or struggling from the pressure on his lungs. He grit his teeth, preparing himself for what was to come. Kotoko prepared herself as well. 

Releasing a cry, she swung forward. The moment before her brass knuckles clashed with the floor, just to the left of Fuuta’s face, Kotoko realized one thing:

Kajiyama Fuuta was indeed nothing but trouble.

[skrmbrks]

taijutsu practice...?

[faaun]

i feel rly sad and conflicted abt one of my best friends on earth but idk who to ask for advice bc i usually would have consulted her in this situation lmao