you’re not flawed, darling @melvinthedepressedrobot - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
you’re not flawed, darling
@melvinthedepressedrobot
you’re just a little under-rehearsed Jamie ~ 30 ~ England ~ Queer ~ He/They I'm into a bunch of fandoms, I like drawing, singing, writing, acting and various other things. Chibi commissions open on Ko-fi! Please don't send me chain messges!
hello instagram artist. your challenge is to do a portrait study of a woman but you’re not allowed to stylize them so their eyes are really big and more cat eyed than the reference photo. You’re also not allowed to make their noses more of a button nose or their lips full and pouty or their faces heart shaped with no double chin. Also you have to draw a fat woman. one thats actually fat and not just slightly curvier than the kpop demon hunters body type. good luck
You're sick. You recognise the symptoms from your crew, you have radiation poisoning. The astrophages that were protecting you and powering the ship are gone. You couldn't find the leak in time to stop it. And now you're dying out here in space, alone.
The life support systems on the ship are shutting down. Everything is shutting down. Your planet will die– your entire star system will die. They'll never know how close you came to saving them.
You think about Grace. Is his ship dying too? Or is he on his way home, none the wiser to your fate?
Maybe you're fighting until the end, or maybe you've 'made peace' with it.
And then you hear knocking, on the outside of your ship. Furious, desperate banging on the window. Your friend, your lab partner, your first contact, has come back to save you.
I asked my five year old cousin what he would do if there was a scary skeleton and he said "I would pour water on it and then kick it" and I've been losing my shit laughing crying about a wet skeleton for about fifteen minutes straight
Currently thinking about Flambert and marriage and how exactly Robert would feel about it.
Because for Robert, it wasn't even in his top 5 life goals. Which mainly consisted of ‘keep going. Feed Beef. Don't die.’
Robert understood that since he was 16 with a father in the ground and a suit that didn't care.
He's never even seen his mom and dad in a room together.
For Flambae, it's not like that. His parents are his favorite story, and it's so obvious it almost aches.
“When my dad’s hair started going gray, he hated it. My mom dyed hers the same shade. He has no idea about it. But he stopped saying it looks bad.”
Robert wonders how it feels, sometimes. To talk about your father and smile. Like he’s made of good memories.
“They got married in my dad’s garage, because they wanted to save money for my mom’s restaurant. My dad made the rings from his favorite car. Melted it down for her. That's SO fucking cool.”
And he says that at 3 AM, in Robert’s kitchen. Hands covered in flour and oil, because Robert was hungry and he wanted dumplings.
And Robert doesn't know why he decides this was the moment.
Maybe it’s the way Flambae says he’ll get him a bed, when they actually go furniture shopping. But until then, there's a blanket fort in his living room. He lets Robert have the comfy pillow.
Maybe it's the way there's always a full bottle of his favorite body wash. Robert said it as a joke. For Flambae, it wasn't.
Maybe it's the way Flambae cheers him on when he pirates a movie, like its innovation at work.
“You wanna give it a shot?”
They both pause. Same exact time. Flambae’s eyes just go big, blinking, and they glow like Chad.
Robert’s lungs burn, from heart to stomach, and he laughs like rust.
“What the fuck?” he whispers to himself, pacing about. “‘Give it a shot.’ What the fuck.”
And Flambae isn't angry about it. His voice does that thing Robert loves, where it softens because he wanted it to.
“Do you want to take it back?”
“No! Of course I don't, but this is my living room, and we just gave Beef a bath and it smells horrible, and I don't even have a ring, and —”
“Robert.” And it's the crackle in Chad’s voice that stops Robert dead. It's the gloss across his eyes, the smile on his face that trembles a little,
“Ask me again so I can say yes, bitch.”
And Robert’s throat shakes, when he gulps. “Will you marry me? Asshole.”
Chad tackles him into a kiss. Which is a strong yes, he thinks.
And when Robert hugs him back, there's rings in his pockets.
when a tv show doesn't shy away from portraying fucked up themes, and there's love in the violence and the characters are doomed and codependent and there's a power imbalance and the cycle keeps repeating and they're miserable with and without each other and also they’re gay
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
jbbartram-illu
germansingergirl
