#but the long is absolutely his preferred

[ninawolv3rina]

I really only draw Laz with the long hair but all 4 of these hairstyles are ‘canon’ within the span of time In Perpetuum covers. When it comes to what I’ll draw them with, I think I’m gonna lean towards either buzzed or long :3 I think they look great either way!

OC: Laz Atwater (he/they)

[inoreuct]

zosan caretaking fluff feat. hair washing, banter and very soft vibes. dinner is served.

Sanji sighed, sliding down until the back of his head pressed against the lip of the bathtub. The water was toeing the line between too hot and just right and he'd poured in enough lavender emulsion to coat it with dense, heady bubbles; they tickled his chin as he let his eyes slip shut.

It had been such a long day.

He'd been rudely woken up by the sound of a cannonball crashing through their hull, tossed out of his bunk a second later when the enemy ship rammed into their side; having to fight moments after being startled awake had already put him in a horrid mood, and then he'd realised that the galley had taken damage and he would have to restock more than half of everything he'd had in there. The fridge had lost power too so he'd had to cook all the meat that had thawed (which, to be fair, was never a problem with Luffy around) but then his whole crew had scattered during their supply run and he'd lugged a shit-ton of food back to the Sunny himself and now his brain was buzzing and his everything was aching and he was pretty sure he had gunpowder in his hair.

The steam filled his lungs when he breathed in, damp and dense and warm, settling heavy as he trailed his fingers through the milky water. His neck hurt from staring down at goods all day and he could feel the beginning of a tension headache behind his eyeballs. It was a small blessing that he had the bathroom to himself—

The door creaked open.

Goddammit. Sanji sucked down a fortifying breath before he looked up— and relaxed, because thankfully, the one possible person he might be able to tolerate at the moment was sliding inside with one arm behind his back.

Zoro pushed the door shut with his heel, loose pants wrapped low around his hips and hair already darkening from the humidity. "Hi."

"Hello, marimo," Sanji sighed, tilting his head to the side. He watched as Zoro trudged over and stuck his free hand into the water before yanking it back with a muffled hiss.

"That's hot."

"Nearly enough to boil a lobster," the cook agreed mildly, eyebrows flashing up as he turned his head to track Zoro pulling up a stool, lazy and languid. "Now did you need anything, or are you just here to kill off more of my brain cells?"

Zoro gave him a dry look.

A heavy exhale slipped from Sanji's nose before he reached behind him, fingers brushing Zoro's elbow and sliding down to take his hand. He spread the swordsman's fingers out, tracing over hard-earned callouses with featherlight swirls. "I'm sorry, mon chou," he sighed, letting his temple fall against Zoro's knuckles. "Just... tired, is all."

"I know." Zoro flipped his palm, rubbing a thumb over Sanji's cheekbone before pulling away. "Brought you something."

Sanji heard the sound of glass being picked up and nearly turned before he was presented with a dark, stout bottle, the labelling font reminiscent of chalk on a blackboard. "Pirate Blend," he read, huffing a chuckle. Fitting. "No glass?"

"As if you won't finish the whole thing."

He let out a faux-indignant gasp, reaching out to whack the back of his hand against Zoro's bare chest. "Ass."

"That was my tit, cook. Think the steam's getting to your head."

The laugh that peeled its way out of Sanji's throat was sticky with exhaustion, steeped through with lavender suds and underpinned by the ache in his muscles as he popped the cork with his teeth and took a swig. "...Where did you get this?"

"There was a tasting booth in the market. Thought you'd like this one."

"You thought right," Sanji admitted, lifting the bottle to his mouth again and letting the wine coat his tongue; a red by the taste of it, with a nearly savoury spiced vanilla and dark, syrupy cacao, a rich core of sweet berry, an almost silky hint of dry tannin. He held out the bottle, but Zoro shook his head with a soft quirk of his mouth.

"Got it for you, swirly."

The cook smirked. "Suit yourself. So that's where you ran off to while poor little me was stuck doing all the heavy lifting," he lamented, sighing and emphasising it with an exaggerated sip.

"Not just that."

He heard twine sliding across waxed paper, packaging rustling as it was unfolded—

The water sloshed as Sanji set his bottle down and turned around, holding onto the edge of the tub as Zoro pulled the last bit of paper away to reveal the set of soaps in his lap.

The cook's breath caught. Each of the five bars clearly had a different scent, and a design to match; the one with green and cream swirls was matcha, surely, and the translucent one with rose petals was obviously rose. One more was oat and honey, and the one with a herb sprig on top was definitely rosemary mint— But the last one was plain brown, mild enough that his nose couldn't pick out what it was supposed to be. "Marimo."

"Hm?"

"How much did these cost?"

Zoro shot him a smug grin. "Just a couple of logs that needed chopping... And some charm."

"You." The cook blinked, stretching out like a cat to rest his chin on his hands, lips twitching as he tried to hide his awed smile. "Charm."

"Oi! I can be charming when I want to be!" The swordsman scowled at Sanji's fond, disbelieving scoff. "I charmed you, didn't I?"

"Yes, well��" Sanji felt a little breathless, buoyant, like if he let go of the tub he'd float with no effort at all. "Yes, I suppose you did." He held still, heart fluttering in the hollow of his throat as Zoro's face softened, leaning forward to poke at something in his hair.

"You've got gunpowder in your bangs."

"I— Ugh, I know!" he complained, rolling over with a dramatic sigh.

"Well, hurry up and pick one, then!"

"Pick one?" Sanji lurched up again, bubbles sloshing everywhere, eyes flicking between Zoro and the soaps. "I can't just pick one, they all smell so good and they're too pretty to—"

"Oh, for the love of— Curly, can you just pick one and let me wash your hair?" Zoro deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and completely oblivious to the way he'd just made Sanji's entire system freeze, the inconsiderate moss-headed bastard.

If a cannonball crashed into their ship again, Sanji wouldn't have noticed. If the Sunny was sinking, he wouldn't have cared. He was much too preoccupied with staring at the man sitting in front of him, skin flushed with the warmth, green hair mussed as it always was, soaps that he'd bought for Sanji on a whim in his lap. The cook's fingers dug into the edge of the tub and gripped until ceramic squeaked. Zoro wanted to wash his hair.

Zoro's throat bobbed as he swallowed, clearly fighting the urge to look away. "Look, if you don't want—"

"No!" Sanji yelped, startling himself enough that he nearly clapped his hands over his own mouth. "No, I— This one," he breathed, reaching for the plain brown bar and pressing it into Zoro's palm. "This one." He knew that he probably looked nearly shocked, eyes so wide it must have been unsettling, but his chest ached something fierce when he breathed in deep down all the way to his gut and he couldn't help it. His water must have been getting cold by now but he didn't feel it at all.

Zoro's lashes fluttered as he shifted in his seat, carefully wrapping the rest of the soaps up and placing them aside. "Okay, then. Turn around."

Sanji flipped, sitting still as Zoro gently pulled the tie from his hair and slipped it around his own wrist, holding back a shiver when calloused hands cupped his face to guide him nearer the running tap. The water seemed warm, but not warmer than Zoro himself; the swordsman always seemed to run ridiculously hot and Sanji—

"Relax," Zoro murmured, his hand broad and steady against the back of Sanji's head. "I've got you, cook. Lean back."

And Sanji was slowly coming to realise that he was loathe to deny Zoro anything, so he did. He let his weight sink back against Zoro's hand, trusting the swordsman to hold him up, letting his eyes close as Zoro carefully poured water over his scalp until his curls were soaked. He didn't open them even as he was pushed back up, settling comfortably in the tub as Zoro lathered the soap in his hands. What remaining suds left in the tub lapped at his collarbones; the water was a soothing pressure all around his torso, and he didn't bother hiding his soft sigh when Zoro's fingers slid into his hair.

"S'getting long." Firm fingertips started scrubbing at his scalp, kneading into spots of tension Sanji didn't even know he had. "You gonna cut it?"

"Mm? No," he sighed, shuddering when Zoro dragged his thumbs up from his nape. "Think I w'na grow it out."

Zoro hummed at that, tipping the cook's head to the side. "You'll look pretty."

"I know I will. And you'll tell me every day."

"Oh, will I, now?"

"Mhm."

The swordsman scoffed without any bite, doing something with his fingers that made Sanji melt. "You're so cocky."

"Mhm," Sanji mumbled again, not even bothering to find out what he was agreeing to. He had better things to focus on. "Just... keep doing that."

He heard Zoro chuckle and then pretty much zoned out completely, tension bleeding from his muscles, letting Zoro move his head this way and that. His bathwater was tepid at this point; he didn't care. Zoro's hands were big and warm and as the bubbles drifted down to his shoulders, he finally realised what this bar was scented with.

Sandalwood suffused his senses, a deep creamy sweetness with an undercurrent of leather and earth. With what little wherewithal he had left, Sanji decided that it suited Zoro more than it did him. Maybe he'd try to convince the mosshead to take it for himself. A few kisses should be bribery enough. Fingertips dug beneath the bones just behind his ears, working until the ache dissipated, and Sanji felt his shoulders slump because God, that felt good.

He didn't know how long he sat there, drifting blissfully between sleep and Zoro's fingers scrubbing at his crown, gingerly detangling his hair, but if you had to ask him his answer would be not long enough. His eyes fluttered open when Zoro tapped his cheek, and he squinted at the light. "Wh—"

"Wake up, baby. Gotta rinse."

The pet name made something tucked inside his ribcage pull tight like a gasp, but Sanji just closed his eyes again. "Just a while longer..."

Zoro chuckled as Sanji's head lolled in his palm. "We should get you to bed."

"Noooooo." Was he whining? This was ridiculous. He really didn't care.

"You're a spoiled prince," Zoro said matter-of-factly.

"Your fault." Sanji discreetly cracked one eye open to gauge the swordsman's reaction and immediately closed it when he saw Zoro's expression, sucking in a hitched breath.

That was enough devotion in a glance to kill a man, and it tore through Sanji like a fucking bullet. Right through the ribs, in and out faster than he could stop it, so quick that he didn't even realise until his love was bleeding out of him, all over his hands, filling his mouth, colouring his teeth, honeyed at the back of his throat and finally he'd be able to see how much of it his heart held. He didn't mind. He didn't think he ever would, actually; he'd fill this bathtub with red if it meant that Zoro would see. If it meant that he would understand how every time he looked at Sanji like that it felt like he had Sanji's heart in his fist, his lungs in a vice, his goddamn life under his thumb.

Sanji had come to terms with it long ago. He put his soul in these battle-scarred hands every day and he trusted them to be gentle because he knew that they could, they would be, for him. Even now, Zoro took his weight easily, one palm at his nape and the other stopping suds from getting into his eyes and it meant far too much for something so simple, but that was just how it worked, wasn't it?

The cook swallowed hard, allowing himself one more moment before pushing up so Zoro wouldn't accidentally waterboard him. It would possibly be hilarious but he might also very possibly just die, considering how low his guard was. The thought made him laugh a little, strained with how his head was tipped back; he saw Zoro give him a weird look upside-down and decided that he was either more tired than he'd thought or he'd had more of the wine than he'd realised.

Zoro rinsed his hair quickly, but he was no less meticulous than he had been at the beginning. It was something that Sanji had refused to admit he admired at first, that single-minded intensity regarding the things Zoro cared about, and oh, wasn't that a thought? That he belonged within that distinction now. Sanji pulled his knees to his chest when the swordsman leaned over to grab the towel he had set out, scrunching the cook's hair dry as best he could and then dropping the fluffy white cloth over his head just to make him laugh.

The bottle of wine was relatively full when Sanji picked it up, holding it up to the light as Zoro dried his hair. "Guess I didn't finish it after all."

"Yeah, well." Zoro shrugged as he took it from him to put aside and tugged gently on a stray curl. "Nobody's gonna want it now that it has your spit in it."

Sanji scoffed. "You'd still drink it. You'd drink any booze."

"...Yeah, I would."

Zoro's eyes were a soft grey as he stood up. Sanji had a feeling that he could have left out the second part of that statement and the answer would still be the same.

He let Zoro pull him up out of the tub, wrap him in the towel and hold open the pair of briefs he'd left for him to step into. He held his arms up as Zoro pulled his soft sleep shirt over his head, brazen as if he didn't know full well the shirt was Zoro's to begin with. If it were any other time he might have protested against being helped to dress like a child— but for now he'd just refuse to admit that he enjoyed it, enjoyed being cared for, even in minute ways like this. Plausible deniability and all that.

Sanji didn't resist as the swordsman took his hand, leading him back to the men's quarters and tugging the covers up for him, patting them into place around his shoulders as he settled. The bed dipped by his hip where Zoro sat, and Sanji sighed as his damp bangs were brushed away from his face. Zoro liked seeing both his eyes, he'd noticed. Maybe he'd start wearing his hair back more often.

"Goodnight, cook," Zoro whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Sanji's temple.

Sanji's brain was full of cotton and sandalwood suds. He squeezed over underneath the blankets, cupping Zoro's face in his palms. "Stay."

The swordsman laughed under his breath. "Haven't showered."

Sanji considered letting him in anyway, but yep, nope, guess his brain wasn't that full of cotton. "Make it quick," he ordered, the effect broken by the massive yawn that interrupted his last word. Pulling Zoro down for a proper kiss was easier than breathing, the press of their lips just enough to wrap warmth over his skin like a blanket. "And use the soap from just now."

Zoro huffed at the words murmured against his mouth. "Spoiled."

"Your fault," Sanji yawned again, jabbing a finger into Zoro's chest before waving him away.

He heard his boyfriend's rumble of a laugh, smiled into his pillow as Zoro's acquiescence was brushed over his cheek, before the lamp was turned down and the door opened and shut. He'd been serious about Zoro being quick; they both slept better when they shared a bunk, and today had been more than enough of a shitshow for them to have earned a good night's rest.

Sanji snuggled down, fully intent on waiting.

He was asleep between one breath and the next.

(And if he woke briefly to curl closer when Zoro slid half-asleep into bed behind him, clean and warm and smelling of sandalwood, well. Neither of them would remember it in the morning.)

thank you for reading! part 2 where sanji takes care of zoro is already in the works, so keep your eyes peeled if you're interested :)

[eggcats]

This isn't connected to anything, but I thought of a random scene in the Everybody Loves Vox AU while I was relaxing this morning.

And I've decided that Alastor only criticizes and mocks things about Vox that he knows Vox will argue with him about, because he enjoys teasing and fighting.

But he's also super careful about not saying any preferences towards things about Vox that he could easily change, because he knows Vox's first instinct is to want to be liked and so he'd change whatever it is for Alastor’s (or anyone's, really) approval - but Alastor DOESN'T want Vox to do that, because that's boring. If he wanted someone to do whatever he says he'd ask one of his thralls - he likes that Vox does and likes and wears things he doesn't like or wouldn't do himself, because the differences are fun and entertaining and interesting.

And Vox only finds this out one day by complete accident because Alastor happens to find him relaxing after a shower (on a bed or a couch, just a surface they could lay down and cuddle on) and immediately decides to join him to cuddle. Like, laying entirely on him, shoving his head in his neck, the whole nine yards.

Vox is visibly confused because he KNOWS Alastor doesn't like to cuddle and is very particular about physical touch. (It's the one thing he's had to get used to since they've started "not dating." Part of the reason he stayed with Val for so long was because he enjoys physical contact with his partner, but he's adapted to Alastor’s lack of desire for it to the best of his ability.)

So Vox tries to tactfully ask what the hell is going on, because while he's really enjoying the cuddle he's Extremely Confused and would like an ounce of clarification.

And it turns out that Alastor hates his cologne and that THAT'S why he refuses to touch or cuddle him, to prevent the scent from getting on himself. (It's too strong, too much, it gives him a headache with his more sensitive sense of smell, etc etc).

Vox is like, "Were you ever going to TELL ME that?! What the hell, Alastor?! I don't have to fucking wear it if it bothers you that much!"

Alastor, grumbling, with his face still shoved in Vox’s chest, "No, I was not, because any time someone says anything, you immediately mold yourself into whatever that is, so I would appreciate you forgetting this conversation ever happened."

Vox, with one arm holding Alastor and his other hand pinching the spot between his eyes, "Absolutely the fuck not! Alastor. If I had to choose between over-priced colonge and you fucking TOUCHING ME, I'm fucking choosing you? What the hell, this is insane, I cannot believe we could've been cuddling this entire time. I'm fighting you when we're done because of this."

Vox absolutely ditches the colonge the first chance he gets, despite Alastor's protests.

I like to think that eventually Vox gets comfortable enough to NOT do his initial instinct of immediately changing himself towards Alastor's preferences, once he now knows that Alastor won't say anything - even if it's something he'd be happy to change - to keep him from doing exactly that.

(Also, I think Val tended to do the opposite, where he'd often criticize Vox until he does whatever he wants, so it's hard for him initially to not do the same for Alastor, and to realize that Alastor's mode of affection is softly bullying him but that Alastor dislikes it when he tries to change himself to appease).

It takes some trial and error until they find common ground between "changing anything your partner doesn't like" and "never saying anything you dislike to your partner." Neither of them are good at relationships, so it takes a bit.

(I just couldn't get the idea of Alastor refusing to get too close to Vox because his scent bothers him - and then the second he finds Vox without it he practically tries to bury under his skin to catch up on all the affection (and enjoying his natural scent) he can before Vox puts that scent back on. And never thinking, hey, maybe I should say something about that because he doesn't understand the difference between that and controlling Vox's personality.)

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

The Batman (2022) isn't perfect by any means, but it is still a phenomenal film and one of the best pieces of Bat-media in recent memory.

Firstly, the aesthetic. Seemingly small but an incredibly important part. BTAS was broody, '89 was gothic, Forever was campy, TDK was... bad. And TB I think finds a real sweet spot in between vibes. It's dark, serious, it's got a technological noir, and yet still has vibrancy and color and (the key to my heart) neon.

One scene, you'll be sitting in an abandoned tunnel with shadows and muddy colors, the next you'll be surrounded by police under white lights, and the next you'll be in a night club with LEDs of every color you can think.

The fights. This film has some of the best Batman fights I've ever seen period. Really just action in general. The night club, the hallway, the finale. It's not like TDK where every fight is slow, precise, methodical, and honestly boring. Each fight or chase here is energetic and entertaining. The choreography is excellent, the stakes are legitimately high, and the settings are always unique.

The night club is crowded and overwhelming, with people swinging, shouting, and grabbing at Bats who aren't even apart of the fight. His skills and equipment save his life multiple times, whether it's block a bullet with a precise pipe throw or survive a shotgun blast with his armor. When he finally grabs Penguin you feel as overwhelmed and animalistic as he does.

The precinct escape is tight and tense. From the punch to the jump, every second makes you feel the absolute abominable stress of trying to escape a building like this. Officers pouring out of every room, bullets whizzing by and beaming off his suit. Merely seconds to get the flight suit on before they come pouring out to the roof. We experience the fall with him as his nerves spike, all culminating in a quick second decision that ends with him crashing into the side of the road.

Gotham. The beloved city feels full here. Subways are crowded, streets are packed. The crime feels real. Vandals, gang violence, thieves, assassins, crime families. It's not just militants and killers. We see the systemic issues in place that cause these. We see the feelings and social strains that make people do this. It's like you're taking a peak into another world with context and history you don't know but understand. It feels right.

The characterizations. I'm not a huge fan of the whole "Bruce Wayne is the mask, Batman is the real you" thing inflamed by TDK. And I really don't like "the Waynes were corrupt and did bad things, even for good reasons".

I think there's so much more to say about the two very different, very real sides to Bruce's personality. The one that comes out as billionaire playboy philanthropist, and the one that comes out as a violent and vengeful demon. Both who are willing to suffer for their causes. And I think there's so much more when the Waynes die from a mugging. That the crime is so bad it took the highest. That it could take anyone at any time, even the beloved elite.

However it does something right that most other Bat-media fails at. It makes Batman a symbol of hope. It demonstrates a growth in himself. That he can do more good to inspire the people than to instill fear in them.

Pandaredd made a good video on this, but in Crisis On Two Earths, Bats' opposite is represented as the ultimate nihilist. This means that at his core, Batman is really the ultimate optimist. And that makes sense. You don't put on a suit and fight crime, you don't try to create resources to help people, you don't befriend and reform your own Rogues gallery unless you believe you can change something. That all the work you do, all the suffering you experience will be worth it when you get to know the world healed.

And that's something The Batman understands. Batman started as a symbol of fear. So that every criminal hesitates at an alley. Panics at a shadow. But he became something else. A symbol of optimism. So that people can walk the streets at night. That they can get the help they need. That they can look into the sky with hope.

[hollowsart]

many many years ago I had discovered and come across a small channel on youtube called "Deceased Crab" and I believe that was during the time I was in a phase of interest with the whole Knytt Stories thing, curious and looking at the other games by its creator. I saw a game called "Within A Deep Forest" and I believe this is the game that I first came across Deceased Crab playing. (I also watched his Knytt & Knytt Stories videos, too)

At some point I also discovered 2 other games that he played and I really enjoyed those two other playthroughs he did. those games being Karoshi ('death by over work', wild game, don't look it up if you have trouble with SH), and a small game called Eversion (criminally underrated, personally. it's short but really neat and I think if it came out now, people would latch onto it cuz of its cute appearance but secretly darker side)

there were a couple other games I had watched that he'd played (L'Abbaye Des Morts, and I think the Trilby's Notes series (ie 5 days a stranger, etc) and Monster Party, just to name a few) and tbh idk why I stopped watching his videos.

But, for awhile I had wondered where he went cuz I hadn't seen any videos of his in a long time, but I've looked at the channel just recently and he still uploads videos. It's nice to see tbh a pleasant change from a lot of stuff happening with creators on youtube in recent years, especially creators who have been big or small, new or been here since the early days of the site. Happy to see the guy is still vibing and making content that he enjoys and has no desire to monetize his videos or join anything/do partnerships. he's just doing his own little thing how he pleases.

his microphone quality was upgraded after a year and it seems, listening to a little of his most recent upload, he's still got a similar quality to the mic, but overall, despite the clear change in his voice over the years and all, he still seems to have the same level of enthusiasm and chill as he did before with his commentary and manner of speech.

glad to see this guy is still doing something he likes after 17 whole years of doing it. genuinely really nice to see people grow, but still remain themselves after so long. some things change, but some things don't and that's okay, not everything has to change.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

This may be an unpopular opinion but I GENUINELY really miss the vibe of Umbrella Academy season 1. It was so fucking emo and that just felt Right.

[atissi]

@cynoglav​ excellent question. excuse me while i have a category 5 hyperfixation moment.

this is my #1 favourite comp, which i fondly refer to as “jingled for death”. very lightweight, fast and packs a punch. you get decent healing between arbalest and occultist, good stress healing from jester, high damage output from arbalest and bounty hunter, and you get occultist mostly setting up kills or negating damage. the primary downside is that they’re all a bit squishy (especially poor occultist who has to be in rank 2 to use his stun) so you have to spend a lot of time managing health. however, since they all have high speed, i haven’t had too much trouble with killing, stunning, or debuffing enemies before they can act.

obviously you might want to exchange jester for houndmaster for better mark synergies, but imo they’re very similar units mechanically (dodgy bleed units with a stress heal) and i prefer the buffs+finale to cleaves+guards in this case. it allows for a more offensive playstyle (although I do equip arbalest with bola and jester with harvest to cover the cleaves a bit). since ive been getting more comfortable with using houndmaster though, i might give marked for death another shot!

“jingled for death” was my first endgame comp and they fucking nailed it. it helped that my occultist had a +8 speed boost from the brothel, so he was just marking everything before they even had a chance to react. love you poussin <3 wish you’d stop losing my fucking trinkets in bed though. or getting a speed debuff because you sprained your hip.

runner-up goes to this comp, which i discovered recently and had an absolute blast with. formally it’s called “bloodbath” but i like to call them the artery obliterators. basically i equip my highwayman with grapeshot blast and a shit ton of accuracy trinkets. everyone else i give damage and crit builds. ideally highwayman gets the first turn to just blow up the first three ranks. then the other three units crit-nuke everything. with hound’s harry AND extra grapeshot blasts, you can crit-check the first 3 ranks in one go. it’s incredibly satisfying and honestly great for stress management. my main concern is the lack of a good spot healer to get someone off death’s door though; flagellant can manage the bulk of healing pretty well, and hellion and houndmaster can save themselves, AND in a pinch houndmaster can guard whoever’s in trouble, but i have trust issues from previous units dying to DOT before I can heal them, so i don’t use this comp too often. just for fun and just for bleed areas

i also recently had a lot of fun with arbalest+plague doctor+flagellant+crusader in crimson court, but i’d have to playtest it in other areas. it’s really fun having so much healing and stress healing available, and the rank access is great.

other honorary mentions: any comp designed for dancers (i love positioning strats so much you don’t even know), leper with revenge and a guard unit (houndmaster and man-at-arms obviously works for negating damage, but antiquarian actually works great for boosting leper’s prot and dodge), plague doctor and flagellant (very synergistic healing and rank access), and jester and leper (power of love)

[ratatatastic]

its such a gem thing to think about taking someones idea for yourself but never going through with it until theyve personally pissed you off so bad and you want to twist the knife in a bit more

its a june gem thing to do think about it, rationalise it, realise they havent pissed you off and doing it anyways

ergo june gems are genuine maniacs and a hazard to society

[alessandramortt]

cannot believe the thing that finally gets me to romantically ship furymax is, of all things, my issues with furyjack sjdhskdjd so on brand for me tho

[sysig]

I mean, while I’ve got you here- (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)

[strawberista]

Headcanons Meme: click the link to get some random headcanons about your muse

⚀ Hanekoma is awful with technology and doesn't know how to use a smart phone. ⚀ Hanekoma has a roblox account. ⚀ Hanekoma believes in ghosts and insists on trying to summon one at every sleepover. ⚀ Hanekoma had an emo phase. ⚀ Hanekoma sucks at saying tongue twisters. ⚀ Hanekoma likes to sing at 4 in the morning. Their neighbors hate them. ⚀ Hanekoma makes your mom jokes. ⚀ Hanekoma wears Hello Kitty socks. ⚀ Hanekoma cannot drive. ⚀ Hanekoma is very good at using chopsticks.

Tagged by: @phoenix-flamed {Thank you!} Tagging: Please steal!

[kelpiemomma]

Thinking about Khan and how he doesn't wake up from nightmares the way people might expect. He doesn't explode from them, swinging and breathing flame in defense. He doesn't wake up screaming.

He wakes up silent. And it's only if you're paying attention that you'll know he's awake. His eyes might open - but with his poor vision, it's not like he can truly see where he's at - and he might draw in a sudden breath. But it's the fact that he stops breathing that's the Sign. It's the way he suddenly goes quiet. Not that he snores or sleeps loudly anyway, but there is one less person making noise in the night.

Ingo isn't often awake when this happens. Very rarely, in fact, because Khan has nightmares almost every night. It's nothing new. Most of the time he will breathe, eventually, and take in the scents of his surroundings. He will realize where he is and use it to ground himself. And if he can't, then he will get up and find something to do until he can pass out from exhaustion and wake up better.

But it happens a handful of times. Ingo is awake when Khan comes to. And sometimes he doesn't realize it, doesn't realize Khan is awake until Ingo himself is returning to bed and looks down as he passes Khan's cot to see his green eyes open and staring at nothing.

But this time he realizes. He's awake, for no real reason, just sitting and listening to the world around him. Akari is snoring after a long day of survey work, Khan is sprawled out on his cot, the nocturnal pokemon are calling to each other in the distance��� It's peaceful. Ingo rests with his head on one hand, eyes shut and enjoying it while he can.

And then one sound disappears.

He doesn't realize it's Khan at first, spends a moment trying to figure out what's missing. Akari is still snoring. The pokemon are still calling. Khan sleeps quietly enough that Ingo has, on occasion, put his hand under his nose or over his mouth to ensure he's still breathing. And it's that, knowing how quietly Khan sleeps, that makes ingo realize that Khan's breathing is what missing. That Khan is making no noise at all.

Ingo gets up and goes over to check, because Khan may be a prickly bastard but by now he's Ingo's prickly bastard like Akari is Ingo's daughter, he's part of the family. And sure enough Khan is awake. Eyes open wide. Staring at nothing. Ingo is ready to return to his seat when he realizes Khan is- not breathing. There's a tension to him that is abnormal, despite his nightmares.

So Ingo stays, sits down by Khan's side, and gently touches his hand. Too much touch too fast will wind up with fists flying towards him, so he takes it slow. Khan's hand is a fist. Ingo asks if he's alright, but there's no response. Khan's chest hitches, his breath sporadic for a moment, before a sound like a whine makes its way out of his throat.

And that- is so out of the norm that Ingo is now concerned. He puts a hand on Khan's arm, on his neck, as he leans over to look in the other man's face. Maybe it's the light of the night, but Khan's eyes seem… Shiny.

And this is a bad one. It doesn't take a genius to know that this is far from average. That whatever Khan has just dreamt of has truly, deeply affected him. Ingo pulls him up, pulls him into a seated position, and directs Khan's face to his own neck. Scent is Khan's strong suit, after all, and the best way to help him realize where he's at. Ingo ignores how his shirt gets a little damp- tells himself, for Khan's sake, that Khan is just drooling.

And Khan does what he never does and wraps his arms around Ingo. There's a desperation there, something terrified, and Ingo knows that this isn't something he can do on his own.

"Do you want me to wake Akari up?" He asks, because it never hurts to offer a choice.

"She's asleep." Khan says, which isn't an answer. His voice is hoarse and shakey. Ingo makes the decision for him, then, and extracates himself from Khan. Khan's hands follow him, reaching out, and Ingo is grateful for the first time his home is so small because he can hold onto Khan's one hand while he uses the other to shake his daughter awake.

Akari's snores vanish and she opens one eye halfway, confused. "Dad?" She asks. Her voice is low and thick with sleep. "Whassups?"

"Khan needs our presence. Would you mind joining us?" He says. And it's not the whole truth, but Akari wakes up more. Khan does not, ever, need anything from them. He's like a stray animal, coming to them when he chooses, but fully able and willing to survive on his own. And maybe now he still doesn't need them. If Ingo hadn't been awake, Khan would have laid there until he decided what to do. But Khan isn't making choices for himself, and Ingo knows he needs grounding.

Akari stands and Ingo helps guide her over to where Khan is still sitting. He's turned now, his legs thrown over the side of the cot as he hunches over and stares at the ground. One hand is still in Ingo's.

Akari reaches out, touches his shoulder, and that whine breaks from Khan's throat again. He leans towards Akari, rests his head against her, and then drags her onto his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck because he is gripping her so, so tightly, holding her like she's his saving grace, like if he lets her go the world will end. His shoulders shudder.

Ingo sits next to them, sliding Akari's legs over his own, and leans into Khan's side. He wraps one arm around Khan and is surprised when Khan returns the gesture, releasing Akari with one arm to pull Ingo into his reach. He is not just holding them but clinging. Ingo wonders, but doesn't ask, what he had dreamed about to make him so desperate. Ingo turns into Khan, places his legs over the man's but under his daughter's, and leans into the hold. After a moment, Khan turns his head to shove his nose into Ingo's neck once more. Akari is pressed between them, still holding onto Khan as if her hug will fix him, and Ingo knows they will both stay here as long as Khan needs them, wants them, to.

[munchboxart]

I love this song dearly but it kind of makes me crazy because it sounds so much like an Owl City song especially at 0:31. I legit thought they took a part of a bit from The Saltwater Room when I first heard it because of how similar they sound. Like this sounds like an Ocean Eyes song or something!! I don't know!!

[planet4546b]

constant and forever reminder related to that oc post. i ALWAYS want to hear about your ocs. ALWAYS. you can come up to me 100000% of the time and say whatever about your guys i want to hear about them. i’m the number one oc hype guy my asks are open tell me about them!!!!!!

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya, Ayaka, Furina, Lumine, and Guizhong all love wearing something of their partner’s during. A shirt or outerwear specifically, it matters not. So long as they have it and the scent of their partner so close, they are content

[i-am-agent-washingtub]

Very tired but determined young man still thinks I'm going to throw his toy again