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#no catharsis
forgottenbones · 1 year
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The Haunting Tragedy of THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN
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starbuck · 7 months
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i say i like tragedies and everyone’s all like ‘why do you like sad stories? are you depressed?’ and never ‘how was the catharsis? was the catharsis fun?’
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cemeterything · 7 months
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post-nut catharsis
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polarsirens · 15 days
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love me. love me. love me.
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sadmages · 9 months
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In my mind palace my tav and Astarion are playing the exact same game of 5D chess and they don't realize it yet
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ribbittrobbit · 4 months
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The Litany of Saint Kristen Applebees
St. Kristen Applebees, Prophet of Cassandra, The Seeker of Truth, The Ever-Changing, Patron of the Lonely, Solace of the Forgotten The Resurrected The god-saviour The god-killer
(being catholic means very rigid liturgical structures embedded into your brain, great for poetic reasons)
I am not normal about them at all
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zurka-durka · 6 months
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mama’s boys
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.
#dungeon meshi#laios touden#toshiro nakamoto#chilchuck tims#kabru#BF in this context could be boyfriend or best friend. The line is so blurry.#Chilchuck less so but whatever is going on between Shuro and Laios & Kabru and Laios is giving strong:#“dude if you were a girl I'd date the hell out of you”. And from the genderswap extra's that sentiment is canon for BOTH.#This was made prior to the translation of the Laios & Kabru & Shuro restaurant date comic and honestly I am just feeling vindicated.#I don't even know what to call this dynamic other than a situationship. There is so much going on between all of them.#Even on a purely platonic reading - the miscommunication and male yearning for friendship hurt so bad.#When we got the Big Hug scene in the epilogue arc I was whooping and hollering! Pure catharsis moment!#I also don't like hugs very much so I really felt it went Shuro ('hates being touched') went in for the bear hug.#Do not get me started on the agony of 'always lying' Kabru telling the truth (I just wanted to be friends)#and 'always believes' Laios thinking it's another lie and brushing him off.#I am once again supporting dungeon meshi day by posting art. Please watch dungeon meshi.#obligatory edit because I’m tired: YES. Chilchuck cares for Laios and him admitting it was a huge part of his arc#YES he is more just fed up with him that actually hating him.#I needed a third guy to be canonically done with his ass for the THREE WEED SMOKING GIRLFRIENDS reference
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october-cryptixx · 4 months
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aro/ace themed valentine's day teddy bears ^^ because i just recently found out i might be arospec but also just cuz like..... why not
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i'm obsessed with jacob's acting choices for the dubai era. every movement he makes has heavy sandbags attached. you can see louis thinking as he attempts to move his limbs "effortlessly." even his voice - intended to sound casual and unaffected - is taut like a live wire. i really loved jacob's acting during the scene in 2x04 where he realizes daniel was looking at photographs he did not take - especially the part where louis wants daniel to make sure he lets the readers know he was an adequate/amateur photographer. he tries to say it in a relatively indifferent way, like it's purely an accuracy concern, but you can see all of his anger in the way he clenches his jaw and purses his lips. i love how jacob utilizes control when he acts as louis; it's magnificent.
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enitsirk · 9 months
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Case closed.
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emryste · 1 month
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skiitter · 10 months
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Astarion brutally, viciously stabbing Cazador to death in a blind rage before collapsing to his knees and ugly sobbing is actually something that can be so personal.
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hwaitham · 24 days
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𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚
boothill x f!reader . unspecified relationship ノ unspoken confessions (?) ノ reader is implied to be his engineer ノ he calls you poppet ノ something short and hopefully sweet for our dashing ranger (〃ω〃) ꒱ྀི 912 wc
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“you know, i’m most jealous of people who have houses to live in.”
your muscles tense upon hearing boothill’s words and the crack to his voice as he speaks them. he sounds more human than ever. 
the metal plates of his chest are turned open, outwards, baring all his inner workings for you to inspect for errors. tangled wire and frayed heart. a cold, lorn ancestor pumping blue blood.
“why?”
“i mean, it’d sure be nice to have a place to come back to at the end of the day. kick my feet up ‘nd pop open a bottle of bart 17 years… strum some tunes ‘nd sing to the moon. fudge, having a bed to lay down in don’t sound so bad, either.” he scoffs, takes a swig of the malt juice sitting next to him on the lab bench. sets it back down, smiles at the floor— a wistful smile at that, you notice. one that doesn’t near reach his bionic eyes, one that crackles and decays at the edges of his lips like oxidising iron.
the grip on the soldering gun in your hands slackens the slightest of bits, your smile mirroring his own. “that sounds rather lovely.”
“y’know what else would be rather lovely? a pretty little lady to make that house a home.”
there’s a hitch to your breath when you realise how boothill has leaned in to invade your space, broad shadow looming over you and diesel oil laying thickly on the membrane of your nostrils. some feeling bordering the line between trepidation and earnest expectation fills your gut as you sense his gaze on you, and you do your best to avoid it, fighting the urge to hold the man you’ve grown so terribly fond of to your chest, as tender as your own heart.
(you would let him live there, in your heart, if he so desired. you would wish for it, even.)
“perhaps she’d be an engineer of sorts— patch me up when my missions go awry, put all of my broken pieces back together again…”
“oh… yeah?” your voice wavers, yet your hands remain as steady as ever, welding two wires together.
“mhm,” boothill drawls, leaning into you further. the space between the tip of his nose and your forehead feels infinitesimal. “i’d have her back, just as she’d have mine. i’d take care of her, just as she does me… kiss her ‘nd love on her, make her the happiest woman in all the galaxy.”
his voice melts into something nectary and bedroom-soft the more he speaks of this woman, so cloyingly sweet that it gives your lungs and limbs a warm ache, warmer than silica from the sweetest of sands. you find your sinews loosening at the feeling, heart slowing— his shoulder looks to be an enticing spot to rest your head. 
you yearn to share this warmth with him.
so, finally, you allow yourself to meet the ranger’s eyes, blinking in surprise when you realise just how close he’d gotten over the past minutes. close enough to be able to make out the yawn of craters and mountains decorating his slate irises, the near faded freckles over pale meat that you long to brush your thumbs over. boothill, too, seems to startle as you look up at him, the little smirk once etched on his lips falling into a small pout of awe.
“and… and she’d have these eyes, the most darlin’ dewy eyes that’d just— gosh— they may as well have gone and knocked my heart straight outta whack.”
these eyes, your eyes, chocolate sweet eyes that are teeming with about the same paradoxical innocence and percipience as a doe’s— boothill doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to them. how looking into them rouses his mechanical heart like no other, seizes his entire being with such a voracity that he thinks he just may blow a fuse.
the cyborg nearly remembers what it feels like to be hungry.
and born from the longing that chokes you is a generosity wherein you’re ready to offer anything, everything to him; you’d let him indulge in that hunger and have you without question.
there’s no hesitation in your response as you whisper, near inaudibly— he’s sure he wouldn’t have picked up on your mousy voice if it weren’t for prior enhancements you’ve made to his neuro chip. “maybe you should try asking her if she’ll join you. maybe… she’ll say yes.”
you finish your soldering job on his wires and seal shut the metal plates of his chest, letting your gloved hands linger there momentarily before bringing them up to cradle his face.
an odd sensation works its way under his flesh at the contact, sweet little tingles beneath his cheek, like cinnamon powder dusting over frothy milk. he’s quick to find a place of rest within your palms, the respite you give him with a tender smile, and boothill realises that this is more than enough.
he doesn’t need a house, when he’s already found a home in you.
“well, then,” huffing out a quiet laugh, he gently takes you by the waist with chromium fingers, soft lips finding the crown of your head. his body is of both hard and soft parts; metal and meat. “what say you, poppet?” 
his hunger, too, has both hard and soft parts. head and heart, an immortal soul and human happiness.
“would’ja ride with this lone ranger ’til the end of the line?”
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c-hrona · 8 months
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A Rough Night
Basically the thought process for this was:
“I really really want to do a comic full manga style” + “I really really want to draw TriStamp again” + “I really really want to draw some Wolfwood’s angst”
And that's it. That's the comic.
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i think a well acted and written queer coded relationship will almost always be more satisfying to watch than a toned down for the masses explicit queer relationship that is sanitized to the point of not feeling queer anymore
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