#just don't judge<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[loriache]

"I've been waiting for ages for somebody to unmask them."

This moment tends to elicit negative reactions in a first read through, and I've got some opinions about why where Kabru is coming from here actually makes a lot of logical sense. So I thought I'd elaborate on that.

I think people hear this and go, "He thinks they must be hiding something because they gave money to someone? What a cynic." Or "he dislikes them because they did charity?? What's wrong with this guy!". And obviously, a lot, a lot is wrong with him. But I think this makes more sense than it seems at first glance! What people evaluating this judgement miss is why Kabru is paying attention to Laios and co to begin with.

Kabru knows of the Touden siblings because (he's a little bit of a stalker-) he is keeping an eye on all the relevant parties in events developing on the island, in order to be able to guide them to his preferred outcome. This includes adventurers because they are the ones actually exploring the dungeon! He's well aware that something as minor as internal tensions between party members could be key to the historical events that are developing. (He would love the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.)

His desired outcome is that whatever the rewards are of breaking the dungeon's curse, whether that's kingship or the ancient elven secrets of dungeons, are claimed by:

A) a short lived person

B) Someone who will be a good, effective leader and/or use those secrets and the power they carry wisely, with foresight, and to establish a political bloc for short lived people.

The person he can best trust to do this is, of course, himself. But due to his PTSD regarding dungeons and monsters, he's not able to develop the necessary skills to conquer the dungeon. Once he realises this, he starts looking for someone else who he can support to that end.

But most of the adventurers don't have any intentions of conquering the dungeon, don't have the skills, or are unsuitable in other ways. In fact, it seems like some potentially suitable people are the Toudens. There are a lot of good rumours about them going around - they actually seem to have a very positive reputation! That's what Kabru means when he says "unmask".

So when Kabru is observing something like them giving money to an old comrade from their gold-peeling days, he doesn't consider it a problem because "they're giving money to this person who doesn't actually need it" or because they must have some dark secret if they act superficially nice. I think he actually understands this situation and what it implies about Laios (in particular) perfectly well.

Laios and Falin gave money to an old comrade who got injured and couldn't work. That person then healed up but kept taking their money. Then he used the money to start smuggling illicit goods to the island.

The key is that for Kabru, the problem here is the same as with the corpse retrievers - people using the dungeon's resources to fuel dangerous, selfish, or violent pursuits cause problems for the island, attract more criminals and people with motives other than breaking the curse, and increase the chances of the whole situation ending in tragedy.

Kabru is willing to work with the Shadow Lord of the island if it gets him to his goal - he isn't scrupulous - but the criminal element of the island increasing is something he sees as a major issue.

Also, when you're evaluating someone as a candidate for power, riches, secrets, potentially kingship - then being curious about how the money you give to people is going to be used is kind of a relevant trait!

Interpersonally, Kabru's actually very easygoing - I mean, Mickbell isn't exactly an upstanding guy, is he! But Kabru likes him and they get along well. These traits wouldn't be a problem at all in a friend, or a comrade, or someone Kabru was confident he could use. But he can't get a handle on Laios, and Laios is someone who has the potential to be a major player!

On Laios' end, this is the same as with the marriage seeker who joined their party. She kept asking for things and he gave them to her, because he tries to be nice to others. He even gives her money! It's the exact same thing.

That's fine, but it became a problem because he basically wasn't interested in her motives, didn't notice she was trying to manipulate him, and it also didn't occur to him that the other party members would notice or be affected. We can assume the situation with the gold peeler is the same. When Kabru says that "It's not that they're bad people, they just aren't interested in humans," he isn't wrong.

The extent to which this is true of Laios is linked to his autism imo, (because it isn't just disinterest - he genuinely isn't able to notice nonverbal cues that people are lying to him or have ulterior motives) but to a greater or lesser extent I think it's a very common trait. Most people aren't actually that interested in other people who aren't close to them. Kabru is the weird one here. It isn't an issue except as a leader - which is why we see an immediate comparison to the Island's Lord, because that's how Kabru is evaluating them.

And disinterest in/lack of ability with people to the extent Laios exhibits it, it does, actually, make him a worse leader... it's just that as we see in the story, people can help him out. The rest of the party tell him the marriage seeker is taking advantage of him so he tells her he can't give her special treatment anymore. They're pissed and it's a crisis point - he couldn't have recovered their trust without Marcille and Falin - but that's exactly the point. With Marcille and Falin, he was able to recover their trust.

And he has other good traits that make up for it, such as his intelligence, strategic knowledge, open-mindedness and sense of fairplay.

Kabru doesn't disqualify Laios as a candidate based on what he sees about him from afar, though - he still tries very hard to get close to him, obviously hoping that if he manages he can steer Laios to defeat the dungeon and make up for his lack of people-skills in the aftermath. (Which... he does eventually achieve that goal!) He completely fails until the events of the story, so... definitely I think "They just aren't interested in humans" could also partially be a stung reaction to Laios' complete disinterest in him.

Anyway, that's my read on what exactly Kabru's "issue" with Laios is. Obviously, once he does find out what Laios' true nature is like - about his love for monsters - he develops an entirely new set of fears about Laios' priorities. But since Laios kept that a secret until the start of the story, he has no idea of that yet.

Given all that, I think it's interesting that he says that he doesn't think that the Toudens are suitable to defeat the dungeon, and that he's hoping they'll turn out to be the thieves. As some of his few potential candidates, people who he thinks may play a big role in the island's future, you'd think he'd hope they would be good people!

I suppose it's better, in his eyes, because it means that he's involved in something "interesting". They haven't just had their stuff stolen by regular criminals (boring, puts them further away from his goal) - they've been caught up in the beginning stages of "a historic event". The desperate and dwindling group forgetting morals in their quest to retrieve their lost comrade probably appeals to his sense of melodrama. Because he also just... loves drama.

Despite it being "uglier than anything he was expecting", he still pursues Laios as the person he wants to conquer the dungeon pretty much as soon as it becomes clear that he won't be able to do it himself and they are out of time. That's because... well, to be fair, there aren't any other options. And he fits standard A: he's short-lived!

and Kabru still hopes he can fit standard B, too, and be persuaded to use the power he wins for good. No matter how many nightmares he has about Laios, or whether he thinks about killing him. He doubts him, but ultimately he puts his faith in him and seems happy after the manga's ending that he made the right decision.

[siratonin]

this is a mess, written directly into the tumblr app lmao, but it wouldn’t leave my head so here... have it. post 8x15, cw: grief, canon mcd

It was past midnight. Maybe closer to two. That hollow hour where the city curled into itself—too late for night, too early for morning—and even the birds hadn’t begun to stir.

He sat slouched on the couch, shoulders caved in, like he could fold himself small enough to disappear. The beer in his hand—fourth? fifth?—had gone warm, but he held it anyway. The TV played something pointless, volume low, just enough to fill the room with something that wasn’t silence.

Not that it helped. The real noise was in his head.

Bobby’s voice hadn’t left him. “You’ll be okay, Buck. They’re gonna need you.” Said like it was simple. Like Buck’s world didn’t collapse on itself. He’d replayed that moment so many times it burned behind his eyes. all He could think was—how do you stay standing when the person who kept you grounded is the one who’s gone?

Maddie’s voice followed after, soft, pleading, “You don’t have to be okay right now, Buck. You just have to let yourself feel it.”

But he didn’t want to. Couldn’t. Because feeling it meant naming it. And naming it meant breaking apart.

Too much.

Everyone felt like they were slipping, like the world had tilted and no one knew how to catch their balance again. Buck didn’t either. So he didn’t try. He sat. He drank. He told himself he was fine. Numb was easier. Numb was safe.

But even that was starting to splinter at the edges.

So he stayed still. Let it all swirl inside—grief, guilt, confusion, anger—tangled so tightly he couldn’t tell one from the other. He didn’t cry. Didn’t scream—not again, not yet—He just sat there, breathing in static and beer fumes, whispering the same thing over and over in his mind,

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll try again.

Tomorrow he’d be better. He’d hold it together. He’d be who Bobby believed he could be. Tomorrow, he’d show up for everyone again.

But tonight—tonight he just needed to hold it together long enough to survive the quiet.

Too much. Too loud.

Until a knock shattered it.

Not loud—just enough to cut through the fog.

He blinked slowly toward the door. Didn’t move.

Another knock. This one didn’t ask. It forced him to get up.

“…Tommy?”

Tommy stood there, jacket zipped, windblown, eyes soft, worried.

“Hi,” he said, breathless. “Thank god… I tried calling you, Evan. A lot. You weren’t answering.”

Buck stared. Not surprised. Not upset. Just… tired. He looked at Tommy like one might look at a dream they’d almost forgotten.

All he could think was how badly he wanted to crawl inside Tommy’s ribs and stay there—where it was warm and safe and beating.

But he didn’t say that.

He didn’t say anything.

He just stepped back, left the door open, and leaned against the back of the couch.

Tommy lingered a moment before asking, careful, “Can I come in?”

Buck shrugged, eyes flicking away. Voice too thin to use.

Tommy stepped in, shut the door behind him, and slowly made his way to Buck’s side. His gaze fell to the cluster of beer bottles on the table. He didn’t comment.

Instead, he asked, “How are you doing?”

That made Buck laugh—a hollow, breathless thing. “How am I supposed to answer that?” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

Tommy nodded, didn’t press, but stayed near.

Buck gave more shrugs. One for every question.

“Have you eaten anything?”

Shrug.

“Are you sleeping at all?”

Shrug.

“Did you even talk to anyone today?”

Another shrug. He didn’t even bother pretending to think about it.

Buck didn’t look at him. Just let the words hang in the thick air between them, one hand tightening around the neck of his beer like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Tommy exhaled slowly, like he was trying to hold something in—something fragile and fraying.

“I gave you time,” he said softly. “Told myself maybe you needed space. But, Evan…” He stepped closer, just a little. “It’s been days. You weren’t answering anyone. I-I had to come.”

Tommy’s next breath was sharper. Pushed to the edge of fear. “Will you answer me instead of just shrugging everything away?”

Buck’s jaw twitched. He looked up at Tommy like the question was too sharp to forgive.

“Why?” His voice cracked, low and bitter. “What do you want me to say?”

He gestured vaguely—at the room, the bottles, maybe even himself.

“Of course I’m not okay. But I’ll get over it, right? That’s what people do. They move on.” He shook his head. “What do you expect from me, Tommy?”

Tommy’s hand half-lifted, like he was going to reach for him. Then dropped.

“I want you to talk to me. I’m trying, Evan. I’ve been trying to reach you, and you keep running.”

Buck scoffed. Bit down the anger rising under his skin. That sting blooming behind his eyes wasn’t anger—it was something worse.

“…Ironic, huh?”

Tommy didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile.

“Evan... I’m worried.”

That. That broke something.

“No…” Buck said, shaking his head, almost childlike.

Buck slid down the couch, spine curling, breath hitching—like the act of staying upright had finally become too much. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, like he could shove the feeling back in before it escaped.

Tommy followed him, kneeling, close but not touching.

Waiting.

“No…” he whispered, barely audible. “I have to be strong. They need me.”

Tommy moved closer, voice low and warm. “Sweetheart, you are strong. That doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel things.”

Buck shook his head, sharp and frantic. “No, Tommy. No. If I…” His breath hitched again. “If I let myself—i-if I feel this, I won’t be strong. I won’t be anything.”

He looked up at Tommy then, glassy-eyed and terrified. Not of what had happened. Of what was still inside him, waiting to be felt.

Tommy's expression broke. He reached out, just to offer.

“Oh, Evan,” he said, voice catching. “You will be. I swear to you, you will be. But right now? At this moment? I don’t need you to be strong. You don’t have to hold it all alone. You can let go if you need to. I’m here. I’m right here.”

There was a long silence. One that stretched between them, breathless and trembling. Like Buck had seen some kind of opening—like he wanted to step through it.

But instead, he squeezed his eyes shut again. Tighter. As if doing so might stop everything from spilling out.

“No…”

And then, finally, like it cost him everything

“I can’t,” Buck whispered. “If I lean on you… if I let myself break… and you leave—if you leave me—I won’t be able to pull myself back together.”

Tommy’s breath hitched.

Buck’s eyes were shining now, glassy and unfocused. “You show up, and I’m so thankful—so damn grateful… but Tommy—” His voice broke around the name. “I need someone to stay.”

His voice cracked then, thin and trembling, every syllable held together by the last thread of his strength.

Tommy reached out, hand resting gently on Buck’s arm.

“I won’t leave.”

Buck looked at him, disbelief painted in every line of his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, so quietly, like he barely dared to hope.

“I promise you, Evan,” Tommy said, firm, no hesitation. “If you let me, if you allow me to stay, I promise I will never leave.”

Buck wanted to believe him. God, he wanted to. He needed it.

But he shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut like the hope itself was too much.

Tommy’s hand stayed firm.

“Evan… I never made promises before. Not to you” He swallowed. “But I’m making one now.”

And maybe it was that—the honesty. The raw, trembling truth in Tommy’s voice. The fact of it.

Maybe Buck believed him.

Because he didn’t answer. Didn’t move.

His fingers loosened around the bottle without realizing it. The beer slipped from his hand, hit the floor with a soft thud, and tipped—its contents spilling, seeping slowly into the rug.

But Buck didn’t look down.

A tear slipped down his cheek. Just one. Quiet. Unnoticed, maybe even by him.

Tommy saw it.

He moved gently, carefully—like he was stepping into a space sacred and fragile—and slid closer. Then, without a word, he reached out and pulled Buck into him.

Buck didn’t resist.

Didn’t hesitate.

The second Tommy’s arms wrapped around him, Buck collapsed.

Head pressed against Tommy’s chest, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers clutching at his shirt like a lifeline. His breath caught—hitched—and then shuddered out of him in one long, broken exhale.

Tommy could feel Buck’s heartbeat—too fast, too loud—pressed against his chest. Like even Buck’s body wanted it out, didn’t know how to hold this much pain.

And then another breath.

And then he cried.

No sobs. No wails. Just quiet, shaking grief—like something finally cracked open and couldn’t be closed again.

Tommy held him tighter, one hand moving slowly up his back, the other cradling the nape of his neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice breaking with him. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

That’s what undid him.

Buck's fingers clenched tighter in Tommy’s shirt as the words tore out of him—small and cracked and soaked in pain.

“He told me I’ll be okay, Tommy…” His voice trembled, catching on each syllable. “I’m not. I’m not okay. I never will be.”

His body shook with the force of it, like admitting it made everything real.

Like the grief had finally found its voice—and it came out sounding like him.

Tommy didn’t speak right away. He just tightened his hold, one hand steady against the back of Buck’s head, the other splayed between his shoulder blades, grounding him.

“You will be,” he murmured, barely above a breath. “Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow… but you will be, Evan. I promise you.”

Buck shook his head, a broken, desperate motion, forehead still pressed against Tommy’s chest.

“I didn’t even say goodbye. I didn’t say anything.”

“He knew, Evan,” he whispered. “I promise you—he knew.”

Tommy closed his eyes for a second, like the weight of it hit him too.

But his arms never loosened.

Tommy tightened his grip slightly, one hand smoothing up Buck’s back in slow, steady strokes.

“And you still can. Whenever you’re ready... he’ll still hear you.”

But Buck was past hearing reason.

He tried again, but nothing came out except noise. Raw, aching noise. Grief in its purest, most helpless form.

His breath hitched hard, a sob catching mid-throat before it forced its way out—ugly and sharp.

“I c-can’t—” he gasped, and then the words stopped working.

And still, Tommy held him.

He pulled Buck tighter, cradling the back of his head, rocking him just slightly—not enough to soothe, just enough to stay.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered again, over and over now, like a mantra. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Eventually, Buck went quieter. The sobs thinned to uneven breathing, but his lips kept moving—mumbling something, soft and broken, over and over.

Tommy leaned in, trying to hear. Couldn’t. His brows drew together.

“Evan?” he whispered, pulling back just a little, just enough to see his face.

Buck’s face was wet, flushed, crumpled with the kind of pain that didn’t know how to hide itself anymore. His eyes barely opened.

“Stay,” he said, voice hoarse, barely there. “Stay tonight and tomorrow, and just… stay, Tommy. Please.”

Tommy didn’t answer with words.

Buck curled in closer, folding into the space between Tommy’s legs, cheek pressed against his chest, body trembling but held.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the birthmark above Buck’s eye, tender and reverent.

Then he pulled him back into his arms.

The floor beneath them was hard. Unforgiving. And Tommy didn’t move.

He kissed Buck’s hair. Then again. And again.

Soft. Reassuring. Steady.

“I’m not going anywhere, Evan.”

[lunabug2004]

Btw Will is the only one who's actively proven to Mike that he cares for him by actually listening to his worries without judging him or blowing them off. Just btw.

[babylonqaf]

There are shows that I'm disappointed got cancelled but I'm genuinely mad about Dead Boy Detectives. Like that was a huge fuckup on Netflix's part, and Netflix being Netflix means they won't part with the show and sell it to another studio if they can avoid it, while also not actually doing anything with it.

"Yeah but it had low viewership" I live in Los Angeles, tv show and film capital of the world, and saw a grand total of one billboard and very few posters... When the show had already been released.

I think they did get the mural on Melrose, the one near Fairfax, but I don't remember seeing it complete which is usually not a great sign.

The designs for the posters and billboards were so cool too, like they legitimately just threw 3 years of hundreds of people's work straight in the trash before the show even came out. I will literally never stop being mad about this.

[yoinkschief]

please don't look at me this is the first time I've been self indulgent about Sonic since I was a kid this is making me flustered hrhghhh Amy Rose nothing could ever make me hate you

[lyxchen]

Watching Phineas and Ferb and how have I never noticed how sweet Jeremy is as a boyfriend?!!!! Like he's actually so kind and caring and he genuinely likes Candace for who she is with all her big emotions and her need to bust her brothers. This is such a sweet and healthy relationship and I love it so much!!!

[origami-butterfly]

Reminder for pride month that queerness is not limited to whiteness and if you erase non white queers, when talking about the community, every queer person who isn't white gets to throw rocks at you and shoot you out of a cannon 💖

[a-simslifee]

My ts3 ladies, if you even care. Annie Avin, Quinlan Avin, and Kinsley Brinson (she's married).

[kenneduck]

Finally drew my Tav! Her name is Mer, and she and Astarion are having an Ace romance in a game I'm playing with @deoidesign !

I played BG3 in 2023, and I romanced Astarion in that playthrough also! But I haven't played the game since 2023, and romancing Astarion this time has been such a treat! I can see the changes in emotions he shows, and MAN, playing a run where my Tav is Ace and HC him as Ace, I dunno man it just HITS!

Also, I am totally not crazy and didn't totally make up a backstory for Tav to explain why she would agree to sleeping with Astarion in Act 1 despite knowing from previous experiences that she isn't into- oh wait- (Created a whole Google Doc to explain things for a friend I'm commissioning to draw Mer and Astarion doodles LMAO)

[meatballlady]

Every single fic after s1: "and then they went to Crowley's flat, and they confessed their eternal love, and they stared deeply into each other's eyes..."

Me, not realizing how bad it could be: "yeah, okay, love it, but some variety would be nice - "

Every fic after s2: "And then Aziraphale got to Heaven and immediately realized that he was a fucking idiot and wanted to turn around and grovel on his knees before Crowley but he couldn't because it was all a trap. Meanwhile, on earth, Crowley has been drinking for 84 years ... "

Me: *incoherent screaming*

[amateurfanartist]

oldest and youngest :D

this whole thing just came about because i wantes to draw jd with the heart goggles, then branch just sprouted beside him in the process. Maybe they're in a photoshop or something?

[thewritingpossum]

you know Edward must have initially tried to convince Hugh to become his fourth weed smoking boyfriend only for Hugh to hit back like

[babydinosaur930]

Been sitting on this for a while and finally feel brave enough to post.

[scarefox]

Why is there even already discourse in the tag? Can't yall just chill and watch the show and wait what happens before judging?

[torchickentacos]

i will always shout praises of bi4bi but given recent discourse I feel the need to say that I love bi4het too! I just love bisexuality in general in its many forms, and anyone who only likes it when it's 'queer enough' for them is biphobic. Bisexuals should be able to bring their LaMe CiShEt BoYfRiEnD to pride without being made to feel like spectators and outsiders to their own event.

[sanzodaily]

day 76 | zoro if he was awesome and sanji if he sucked an equal amount really