#this is a recurring theme

[inkpotsprite]

My guy is weirdly happy about getting blades plunged through his chest.

[venomouslilith]

am I the only one who's realizing that a lot of the traits I like in people are just them being neurospicy as I grow older and realize a lot of that about myself as well?

[haventacluewhatimdoing]

'We've lost the Doctor and the capsule!' *immediately walks into a room with both the Doctor and the capsule in it*

[hypnosthesubbykitty]

I had never in my life been called a cutie and now this is the sixth? Person to call me a cutie since J and im like. ?????? Maybe I Am just that adorable idk

[jellogram]

Americans love to find the stupidest man alive and go "Oh my god oh my goddddddd this is the new messiah. Give him all the power in the world."

[espeonkin]

[nipuni]

More Alec!

Oh forgot to say there will be a speedpaint video of this on my Patreon next month!

[nobodynotbymitski]

love when tv shows are rated 16+ and they go all the way on violence! sex! blood! but as soon as a character wants to say "shit" ohmygosh they have to be bleeped out!

[sabeedraws]

“You shouldn’t have done that.” „Well, they had it coming.“

Lurline help those who make fun of Glinda's roommate...!

Redraw of an old Gelphie drawing

[elfcollector]

I think I need to go to camp for a while. Be alone. Scream at the sky.

[pretty-hills-i-die-on]

Fellowship Shenanigans Pt 1.

Happy Birthday

Merry, to Pippin: Well you’re the youngest one here so behave!

Pippin: Fine…

Boromir, to Pippin, of Merry: Is he much your senior?

Pippin, grumpy: Eight years.

Boromir: huh.

Merry: Pippin here isn’t even of age. It’s a wonder they let you come at all!

Boromir, to Pippin: Wait what!? How old are you?

Pippin: 29 next birthday.

Boromir: 29?! Why, half our army is of such an age!

Merry, Pippin: WHAT??

Sam: Quiet down you three.

Frodo: What’s going on?

Merry, pointing at Boromir: His people send children into battle!

Boromir: They’re hardly children! At 29 a man is well and truly his own.

Sam: That’s barbaric!

Frodo: They come of age at 29 in your city?

Boromir: Goodness no! A man comes of age at 16, he-

All the Hobbits: WHAT!?!

Everyone starts talking at once.

Aragorn: What on earth is going on here??

Sam: begging your pardon, Strider sir, only Boromir here says his people send their children off to battle at 16!

Boromir: As is standard practice in the world of men!

Aragorn, to the Hobbits: My friends, not all races age alike, at 16 a Man is as mature as a Hobbit is at 33. There is nothing barbaric about it.

Boromir: You come of age at 33?

Merry: Of course we do!

Boromir: So how old are the rest of you?

Merry: I am 37, Sam is 39, and Frodo is 51.

Frodo: As was Bilbo when he set out on his journey.

Boromir: You’re older than ME???

Pippin, to Boromir: How old are you?

Boromir: Forty one.

Merry: Oh, I supposed you were a great deal older, as you're so tall.

Pippin: Does that make Frodo the oldest of us?

Aragorn: Not at all, master Peregrine, think you are forgetting we have an elf in our company.

Pippin: Oh yeah! Mr Legolas!

Gimli, to Pippin, about Legolas: Don’t encourage him.

Legolas: What?

Pippin: How old are you?

Boromir: The halflings have made a game of figuring out the ages of the company.

Legolas: I am 8945.

Hobbits: Wow…

Aragorn: Absolutely not. *to the Hobbits* He’s messing with you. Not even Elrond is 8945. Legolas…

Legolas: 7598.

Aragorn: Younger than that.

Legolas: 290.

Aragorn: Older than that.

Legolas: 78.

Aragorn: And you definitely aren’t younger than me.

Boromir: What-?

Legolas: 2749

Aragorn: Now that sounds about right.

Pippin: How old is Gandalf?

Gimli, joining the fun: Beats me.

Aragorn: If we get into that we’ll be here all night.

Legolas: *opens his mouth as if to say something*

Gimli, to Legolas: I swear, if you start singing again--

Boromir, to Aragorn: How old did you say you were???

Pippin: Gandalf!!!

Merry: How old are you, Gimli?

Gimli: 140.

Pippin: Woah.

Gimli: And as for Gandalf, my father’s father knew Gandalf, and his father before him.

Merry and Pippin: Woah.

Legolas snorts.

Legolas: My father’s father knew Gandalf, and his father before him.

Merry and Pippin: Woah.

Gimli, of Legolas, under his breath: Bloody show off.

Boromir, to Aragorn: I’m sorry, I think I misheard-

Merry: So we have 29, 37, 38, 41, 51, 140, two thousand and…?

Legolas: 2532.

Aragorn: Legolas for the love of-

Merry: What about you, Strider?

Aragorn: I am 81 as of now. But you lot are giving me grey hairs. Pippin, put that down.

Boromir, to Aragorn: Ok now you’re messing with us.

Everyone looks at him like he’s talking nonsense. Including Pippin, who is still holding the sword.

Boromir, to Aragorn: You can’t be eighty!

Pippin: Why can’t he?

Boromir: At eighty a man looks more akin to Gandalf than your friend.

Aragorn: The race of Numenor commands a longer lifespan than that of Men today. Pippin!

Boromir: Oh.

Pippin: Fine. *stops poking the fire with sword*

Merry: Awesome.

Frodo to Aragorn: That explains a lot.

Pippin: GANDALF ARE YOU EIGHTY!?

Aragorn: Pippin for crying out loud-

Gandalf: Oh no, Master Took, I may be old, but I’m not ancient.

Pippin: wait so-

Aragorn to Pippin, of Gandalf: He’s messing with you.

Pippin: So how old is he?

Aragorn: *shrugs* It depends on where you start counting.

Frodo: When a person is born?

Legolas starts laughing, he takes a breath as if to start singing-

Gimli: La-di-dah! La-di-la-di-da!

Legolas glares at him.

Aragorn: Can you two not be at each other's throats for five minutes? Gandalf-

Gandalf: Don’t look at me! I’ve had more than my share of wrangling Dwarfs and Elves.

Pippin: Are you a billion years old, Gandalf?

Boromir: Just when you think that nothing would surprise you…

Merry: It would be cool to be an Elf.

Literally Everyone else, including Legolas: You do NOT want to be an Elf.

Merry: Why not?

There is a pause, no one knows where to start, and they all have VASTLY different reasons for their verdict.

Aragorn: If we get into that, Master Meriadoc, we'll be here not only all night, but for the better part of a year.

[mentalmeles]

You're my Coney Island baby, you mean so much to me You're my pretty little lady, I love you tenderly You're my lucky star, that's what you are

The thought of Steve and Bucky dancing holds a special place in my heart 💕

[haventacluewhatimdoing]

Jamie: there's something dangerous, therefore I must go with the Doctor and get rid of it for him

[overwhelmed-alien]

Jake’s worst nightmare came to life one pleasant evening at the Hard Deck. A secret he’d kept to himself all these years was exposed like a raw nerve for all to bear witness. He had no one to blame but himself, really.

He’d gotten too complacent, too soft. The allure of being a part of a group instead of lurking on the outer edges had him in a vice and wouldn’t let go. It started on the carrier on that fateful day, so caught up in the elation of everyone coming home that he’d thrown his arms around Phoenix, and then Bob, who’d welcomed him with happy smiles. He’d inexplicably started trading high fives and friendly pats with the others, a sense of tactile camaraderie he’d never had with his other squadrons or classmates. He’d even ruffled Callie’s hair a time or two. Picked up Fanboy in a bear hug. They’d smiled back at him.

The Daggers wanted him. Him. Jake. Volatile, sometimes mean, always bratty, but they’d made it clear: you might be a jackass, but you’re our jackass.

The sentiment touched Jake Seresin like nothing else ever had. He had brothers growing up. He’d had teammates. Rivals. Acquaintances. But - barring Javy- he’s never had “friends”. Much less an entire squadron of them. Friends that laughed and cut up and joked with him. Friends that called him out on his occasional shitty mood and bad attitude, but wanted him anyway. It was a novel experience.

He glanced over at Rooster across the bar chatting with Phoenix. At the proof you didn’t have to be friends with someone to sleep with them. Many, many times. But even Bradley Bradshaw had warmed up to him after the whole “this is your savior speaking” thing. Bradley Stupid Bradshaw with his devastatingly sincere cow eyes and his cutely quirked mouth. He’d been extra “friendly” lately after that handshake.

No, you know what? This was all his fault. They were all at fault.

Jake had never been so caught up, so distracted, so free-flowing in the gentle whirlwind that is friendship and love. His little sister, the book nerd, gushes about this popular literary phenomenon called “found family”. Perhaps that was what this was.

Perhaps that’s what had just spurred Payback to - instead of just stepping around him like would have in the past - grasp Jake’s exposed, vulnerable side just under his ribs, to bodily guide him sideways out of his path to the pool tables. It wasn’t a forceful gesture, just a gentle press and squeeze of a massive hand and strong fingers into the soft skin of his belly through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. An innocuous, friendly, decidedly physical “excuse me”. The reaction was immediate, and Jake actually could sooner stop that missile than what was about to happen.

He spasmed.

A full-bodied, seizing, violent shudder, and then he buckled like he’d been electrocuted.

He only just managed to keep his feet, but it was dramatic enough to draw the attention of the rest of the Daggers, who of course, all dashed over to his side in a panicked flurry.

“Oh my God, Jake!” Callie was drunk and frantic and motherly, her hands coming up to grasp Jake’s face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Dude, what did you do to Hangy?” Fanboy smacked his pilot on the arm, and then ducked out of the way as Trace and Bob elbowed their way into the fray.

“Jake, are you hurt?” Natasha was nothing but business, even as buzzed as she was, and Bob, ever the loyal watchdog, tried to shepherd Jake to sit on a barstool.

With his hand gripping Jake’s other side.

“No!” Jake shouted and jerked away. “I’m fine! I’m good! I’m okay, just…just everybody chill out-“

“-Javy, why are you laughing,” Callie scolded; Javy hadn’t even moved from his seat. “I thought Jake was your bestie!”

Javy, who had in fact been grinning like a loon the entire forty five seconds this Greek tragedy had played out, laughed harder, head thrown back in peels of beer-fueled mirth. “He is my bestest bestie!”

Jake glowered. Of course his oldest friend knew his deepest secret, and had been sworn to secrecy the instant it had come to light. “Javy, you promised!”

“Hey, man, have I said a word?”

“Not a damn word!”

“I didn’t!”

“Ever!”

“Never!”

“He’s ticklish.”

Rooster.

That slimy bastard hadn’t so much been sworn to secrecy as, well, Jake had just assumed the act by which he’d found out had been so illicit that Bradley would have never dared to say it out loud in front of people.

Apparently - unfortunately - he held no such inclinations.

Javy, the traitor, had to catch himself on the railing to keep from falling off his stool, his mad cackling causing patrons across the bar to turn their heads. He’d kept his word, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna enjoy the aftermath.

The collective gasp from the rest of the Daggers was so synchronized it almost seemed choreographed. “No!”

“Oh, yeah,” Rooster said, “he’s crazy ticklish. All you have to do is touch his ribs and he’ll be a screaming, squirming mess.”

The Daggers’ eyes lit up with glee.

“Wait,” Payback said, brows drawing in confusion, “how do you know that?”

Bradshaw smirked and raised a shoulder, as coy as could be. “See for yourself.” He said with a flourish toward Jake, who had been edging out of the group and toward the bar’s exit.

Jake froze at the words. “Bradley-“ he breathed out, eyes wide in shock. He looked akin to a rabbit caught in a trap, and as the Daggers turned toward him like a pack of hungry dogs - eyes wild and grins feral - he felt like one, too. “-no.”

He blinked, and then he bolted.

The door leading to the beach banged against its hinges as first a desperate blond and then a pack of loud, gleefully drunk aviators tore out into the darkness and sand beyond.

Rooster chuckled and sipped at his beer, nodding to Javy as he moved to sit beside him.

“So,” Machado began, “you and my boy, huh?”

Bradley grinned wickedly, fondly, listening as the pitiful pleading began in ernest in the distance - “…no no, no please please, Bob… Bobby I thought you loved me! NoooOO-”

The rabbit had been caught.

The sound that came from decorated naval aviator Lieutenant Jake Seresin’s throat could only be described as a squeal. Manic laughter and the shrill, belting screeching of a man being tickled mercilessly almost drowned out breaking waves on the beach.

“Yep. Me and your boy.”

Javy nodded, listening to the sounds of pure joy outside, his Jakey the center of it for the first time since he’d known him. He met Rooster’s knowing gaze and reached over to clack their beer bottles together. “Good.” He gestured at the wide open door and the helpless begging beyond. “Shall we?”

“Oh, hell yeah, I want a turn.”

Now when Jake is being too much of a brat, all any one of them has to do is sternly catch his eye from across the room and wiggle their fingers at him - silent, threatening - and he will instantly, with a shuddering breath, become quiet, wide-eyed, docile.

Mav and Cyclone are both confused and amazed. Maybe the kids had gotten into some kind of witchcraft over the weekend. But the third time witnessing the odd finger wiggles turning Hostile Hangman into Sweet Jake, well, who were they to question it?

[bookofmac]

All Dave Malloy knows is fairytale motif, mental illness, video game, crunchy chords, drink booze, sad lesbians, write canon and send me into a State

[laterreurofficial]

Is chat Blanc happening at some point in your comic ???👀

Theoretically, yes, but it won't be given a comic. At most, I might write a fic for it. It's not a massive priority of ours because there's nothing Chat Blanc would really serve in terms of the narrative we're going.

Chat Blanc exists primarily to give reason to prolong the reveal, which most people give weight to for the sake of shippies. That's not a concern we have at all, so strike one against writing it.

Additionally, the only thing it could feasibly add to the story is more pressure on Maribug, and that's something we can so easily get from elsewhere... because... her priorities in this comic don't singularly revolve around a boy?

Plus, with Adrien and Kagami already dating at this point, it would be weird for him to go berserk because of him and Marinette's relationship not working! He's not dating Marinette! He'd be crashing out over fumbling his girlfriend's girlfriend!

Of course, Chat Blanc could then happen for alternative reasons, but that still doesn't address how it would serve the narrative. Showing off Gabriel's assholery, giving Marinette more stuff to stress over, all of that can be done through much better means that actually fit the story we're trying to tell.