#no i am not paying for ps lmao

[storytellering]

if it's okay, would you mind sharing your art process? your style is SO gorgeous dude. keep it up spardacest nation!!!

Thank you so much anon, and of course! I kinda posted about it on twitter a while ago, but for anyone not also on there, here's a paraphrasing of what I said there! (under a cut bc it's gonna get a bit long)

(speedpaint video from procreate mostly bc like I also said in that post, it's one of the few pieces I've done entirely on procreate and thus entirely recorded kdfjhdk I usually don't do the sketching + painting parts on there but every now and then I get lazy and want to get it all done quick in one program lol! It's not as good as it would look if I were using krita to render (which is what I normally use) but it gets the idea across decently of what it is that I do)

The short version of my process is: sketch, clean up sketch for lineart, then flat colors, then paint over the flats (i make the flats my shadows and paint on the light), then a multiply layer for skin details (like lips, eyebags, etc), then an overlay layer for skin transparency details (red over the ears/nose/fingertips etc), then i do hair over the lineart, then a multiply layer with the contact shadows in a light beige/grey/neutral tone on top of everything else, and then i unify layers, paint over the details, and color correct the HELL out of it The longer version is: SO, first of all, I will say, my entire process for a finished/fully redered piece is pretty scattered and uses a lot of different apps, because after many years of trying out different drawing apps I found that I just worked better when I could incorporate the parts I liked best from each individual one rather than having to adapt to another app entirely! In total, what I use is: autodesk sketchbook and procreate for the first half I do on my ipad, then krita and photoshop on my computer when I'm actually rendering (but any photo editing app instead of ps will do, I'm just used to photoshop bc that's what I learned as my first drawing app WAAAY back in the day lol), and then meitu on my phone for color filters (also any phone editing app with filters in it will do), AND also optional just for references: blender and daz3d on computer + magicposer on my phone The actual step by step of what I do: First of all, if I want to do a detailed, well rendered piece I will start by getting my references ready. That means either just grabbing a screenshot from the game if it's like, a simple portrait, or a photo reference, taking a picture of myself in the right pose/lighting, and if it's something more complex I will recreate the scene in Daz3D to simulate a realistic lighting, OR even just blender (i have the game models for the dmc characters downloaded, so I can just pop them in, pose them and change the lighting to get a realistic idea of what shadows their faces will cast in that specific angle/lighting.) Note: references are pretty essential to me, and there's nothing to be ashamed about for using them! Personally I don't struggle a lot with the drawing/sketching part of art, but my tiny little pea brain cannot fathom how to make an object 3D in my mind, and how to visualize shadows realistically... thus the reliance on 3D programs to do that for me, and then all I have to do is draw what I'm seeing lol. My art improved significantly ever since I started making 3D refs so I could get /exactly/ what I needed - there's still a lot of leeway you need to learn though, because as realistic as the lighting will be in a rendering program, you'll never really get a fully natural looking image, as far as stuff like the body stretching/squishing/pulling when it's in movement, facial expressions, folds in clothing/fabric, etc... so really it's more a guide than something meant to be followed 1:1.

Then, once I'm confident I know exactly what I'm gonna draw/have the idea in my head, I start sketching it in sketchbook. Not really getting very in depth, just blocking out rough shapes - I like sketchbook and to be on my ipad for that because it feels very reminiscent of traditional sketching on paper to me, which while I'm not super confident on my traditional art abilities, I do get the most natural/fluid/non-stiff figures out that way. Then when I think I have the general idea ready, I export the sketch layer as a png and import it into procreate - which is where I kinda start picking at the sketch and polishing it like i'm carving it out haha. Lots of liquify tool, flipping the canvas to check if it's even, blending out some of the lineart to help out with the rendering later, and then polishing up what was once the sketch into serviceable lineart. I usually reimport it back into sketchbook at this stage - while I like procreate for drawing I don't love the brushes I can use for lineart there, and so I usually only draw the "base" naked figure in there - when I'm in sketchbook I use a hard pencil to refine the details, then on a separate layer add all the things "on top" like hair, clothing, etc - usually I can get it pretty easily in one go, and once I'm satisfied I erase the naked body under the clothes and unify the lineart layers. Then I will just do the flats with a hard brush, turning the lineart layer into an overlay layer and coloring things in with the shadow colors. At this point, I export the file as a psd and import it on my computer - I give it a once over in photoshop first to see if there needs to be any adjusting (like whether any layer that has an effect needs to have a different effect, if all the colors look right since the ipad screen isn't the most faithful, if i wanna change the background color, etc), and once I think it's ready enough, I open it up in krita, where I do the actual bulk of the painting/rendering (as to why specifically krita: it's because I've gotten very comfortable with the brush/painting brush dynamics there and cannot seem to get as good results anywhere else, it's just the goldilocks spot of a brush for me haha.) If anyone's curious, here's the brushes I usually use for painting:

The one in the middle is my go to painting brush, left one for tinier/more refined details, right one for blending out soft shadows (though I learned the hard way to not overuse it, or it will look like I went ham with an airbrush tool lol). (I don't change any of the settings on these brushes, so if you wanna try out the exact ones I use! Just fresh off how they come out the app haha) I paint on the lights on top of the shadows, and just focus on that for the time being - once I'm done with the basic painting, I'll make a separate multiply layer for details like lip color, eye waterlines, makeup if there is any, eyebags, etc, and then adjust the opacity until it feels right - then I'll make an overlay layer with skin translucency details (like, when you hold your hands in front of a light and see the tips of your fingers become bright orange - many parts of your body are always a bit translucent to the blood underneath, specifically parts where the skin is thin like noses, cheeks, joints, knuckles, etc, and I found it makes the character look a lot more alive to add that subtle coloring in) - then usually I do hair on a separate layer on top of the lineart (because that way I can add small flyaways, more details, etc, and just use the lineart as a guide) After that, I'll usually make a multiply layer on top of everything where I'll add contact shadows in a neutral color (usually pretty pale, it'll be darker anyway since it's multiply), and once I feel like I've rendered everything out properly, I save the psd and re-open it on photoshop.

In photoshop, I'll mess around with the layers a little bit more (changing hue/saturation, opacity, etc), fuck around with the background to make it look pleasing, and once I'm happy with it, I'll unify the layers and start color correcting - usually by duplicating the unified layer and messing with the curve/hsl of the image and then changing the opacity of that edited layer until it's as strong or muted as I want it to be - then I also edit the RGB curves individually and adjust the opacity of that also (because I just really like how it ends up looking if I give a bit of a red/warm tint to the shadows lol), and at that point often I will reimport the finished image into procreate for some finalizing touches! Like, blending out shadows that came out too harshly, painting over anything that came out not the way I wanted it, redefining the lineart if it got messy during painting, and adding any extra small detail that might have gotten lost like catchlights, hair shines, hair flyaways, tears, etc. I also do one last round of flipping the canvas and liquify if needed! At this point, I export the finished image both to my computer and my phone - on my phone I open it up on the photo editing app, and add a bunch of different color filters - I don't hesitate from going completely balls to the walls here, and just kinda applying as many filters as will make an image look pleasing to my eye. Once I think it looks good, I'll export the edited image to my computer - and then open both the version without filters and the one with them on photoshop, and use the filtered version as an opacity layer, and adjust it until it doesn't look as crazy anymore lol. One last step I recently started incorporating was also changing the image to grayscale after I'm done, and doing one last round of curves in greyscale to make sure the values look right, and nothing is getting too lost because the values are too similar (because i know i get a bit swept up in getting repulsed by harsh contrasting lighting and can end up washing out all of rendering if I don't check myself kjdfgk) AND that's it! Yes it's a pretty long and chaotic process, but it's coming from years of trial and error and realizing I can just let myself fo whatever makes me happier with the results, and I don't have to stay constrained to one program if I don't like every tool it has to offer/don't have to accept the final image fresh off the painting app as the "finished" image with no adjustments allowed after, lol. I don't find it takes a lot more time than if I didn't do it this way, but YMMV. Hope this was helpful and sorry for taking so long to explain! I just wanted to give a thorough explanation dfhdkhkx

#asks #sorry i know its a bit chaos hfdgd #but i hope its helpful anon! thanks for asking #also for anyone wondering #no i am not paying for ps lmao #fuck adobe #it is always morally correct to pirate adobe products people #if you have an alternative photo editing app you like best youre welcome to use it #but if youre too used to photoshop. everything is free on the internet if you know where to look #i also wouldnt recommend meitu bc it feels like a pretty sketchy app all things considered #im just too lazy to care to change my go to app but i would look for a different phone app #p sure theres billions that let you add funky color filters instead #actually i think you could use photoshop camera raw filters for that too #its just way too intensive of a process for my tiny potato computer and it feels a lot faster + seamless on phone

[cloctor-doodles]

Really gotten into Evil West tbh 🤠 thanks PS plus this might be the one time I have actually used the free game lmao

#i dont pay for it yearly #i only buy a months worth when i play rd online lmao #but here we are and now i am having a good time #evil west #i love cowboys #ps plus

[emphistic]

hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?

A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO

PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you

“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”

The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.

“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?

“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”

“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”

“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.

Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.

“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.

“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”

“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”

“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”

“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”

“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.

“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.

“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”

Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”

“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”

“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”

“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.

“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”

“No. And I hope it stays that way.”

“I—how dare you.”

That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.

But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?

Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”

“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.

“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”

“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?

It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.

“Uhh, I’m sorry—”

“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.

“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”

“Because I’m her prom date.”

“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.

Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Dude.”

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

[kiss-me-cill-me]

i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle. 

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body. 

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself. 

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat. 

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other? 

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally. 

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you. 

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering. 

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered. 

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror. 

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed. 

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours. 

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands. 

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.” 

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him. 

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together. 

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable. 

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly. 

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out. 

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there. 

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave. 

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what. 

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #angst #LemmyFics

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snez #snzblr #male cold #male snz #male ocs #original character

[konic0]

ABOUT CR:

Ppl are comparing Beacon to Dropout when Dropout's success is due to having gameshows, a load varied content on top of d20. CR only has CR. And I you best believe I am not paying for a new thing when ALL the content you guys have is the main campaigns plus some spin-offs.

Candela and EXU, for a start, should be new actual shows. It's a fucking JOKE that we get only 3 episodes per season of Candela and they are A MONTH APART. Dropout has D&D, variety shows, gameshows, podcasts, comedy specials, improv game shows, bts footage for EVERYTHING, and much much more. Where is between the sheets? (I mean ik why it got wiped, but still, stay with the point.) Where is All Work no Play? Narrative Telephone? More shows like Honey Heist?

D20 is evergreen and always changing. CR is solid, which isnt bad for a free service, but with Beacon money you would HAVE to make more. I'm sorry you would just have to. Either a second show with smaller, edited campaigns, and much more.

Plus, Dropout still maintains YT membership where ALL. THE CONTENT OF THEIR WEBSITE, is available there, bcs yes, some people prefer the already stablished gigacorp platforms, especially when they are from places where the dollar to home currency conversion is expensive as hell, like me. 5,99 USD = 30 BRL as of typing this comment, and yall can have beyoncé exclusive concerts in that and I still wouldnt pay that kind of money. Meanwhile, Dropout yt member ship only costs 8 BRL.

So yeah, you better find a way to either discourage ppl from subbbing to twitch or incorporate a way for YT members and twitch subs to have access to EVERYHTING Beacon has to offer.

PS.: idk what yall were thinking announcing this when Watcher's corpse is still warm lmao AND in the middle of Chromatic Orb-gate. I will pray for you guys.

#PS.: idk what yall were thinking announcing this when Watcher's corpse is still warm lmao #and in the middle of Chromatic Orb-gate too. I will pray for you guys. #critical role #dimension20 #beacon #critical role beacon #matthew mercer #marisha ray #travis willingham #cr #critters #critical role campaign 3 #critical role cast #cr 3 #state of the role

[bardicious]

BAHAHAHAHAHA!

Chris Hemsworth, please, honestly GO FUCK YOURSELF. LMAO.

Okay, so, listen, this is honestly going to be the last I ever talk about this, but the fact that I've been proven right about this jackasses involvement in this whole affair has got me laughing!

In 2017, or the year previous, who the fuck knows, Chris Hemsworth got his friend, Taika Waititi to direct Thor 3. Thor Ragnarok, which heavily diverged from the cinematography and the lore of the previous two Thor movies. Chris Hemsworth decided Thor was too boring. He didn't like playing him anymore. He wanted to play someone new and fun. He wanted to play himself. And he got just that.

I'll give Ragnarok enough credit, that aye, I might be fooled into thinking there was some interest the title character. But after Love and Thunder? No, now I know I've been fooled into watching a costume party by Chris Hemsworth, his family, and his friends. Ding ding ding! What do we have here, Johnny?

A bottom tier celebrity making a franchise that not only was all about him - his character, but all about him!!! He's playing himself!

His daughter at the end of Thor: Love and Thunder, is his daughter in real life (she's cute, no diss). His two sons played younger versions of him. His wife was a wolf woman he made out with! His best friends Matt fucking Damon and Taika Waititi both star in the role and the latter directs it.

I'm sorry, but at what fucking point did I sign up for a lazy written fanfiction? Because that's sure as hell not what I thought would happen in Thor 1 or 2, or Avengers. And you know, I am still mad, because I enjoyed the OG Thor, I enjoyed the OG Loki, and Marvel and, wow, did it not pay off.

Alas, it's on me for watching any new Thor films (aye, listen, I gotta family here!), but I just wanted to tell anyone who ever said Thor is a walking self insert nowadays. You are completely and utterly spot on.

Applaud yourself.

PS. Full Review* -> Here

Have fun!

#anti chris hemsworth #anti thor 4 #anti thor 3 #anti thor ragnarok #anti thor love and thunder #anti taika waititi #anti marvel #Id honestly be surprised if I don't get anybody mad at me in my inbox #this day has been a trip #Okay Im done #omg the revelation people #holy shit #live action crack fanfic #Im astounded! freaking astounded! #then again... 50 shades of grey got a movie so why not... #good luck reading that #anybody who got the attention span - more power to you. #imma soooo lose followers after this one #thor love and thunder spoilers #thor 4 spoilers #i think imma have fun now playing around with some ideas #i like the idea of gorr #high key interested in him being helas real father or something #would be interesting

[inkareds]

hii, can i request namor that tried to protect tlalocan just because readers is one of them and all he cares is protecting her from the oitside

Trust Me Namor

nav // marvel m.list // ko-fi // taglist

✧.* word count: 1.8k ✧.* genre: Angst with good ending ✧.* warnings: Namor lies and is really mean to the reader, also the reader is assumed to be Mayan because they are from Talocan, and the reader is married to Namor

All you want to do is defend your kingdom, all you want to do is make sure Namor is safe when he fights. But why was he so hell bent in making sure you never even touch the battlefield?

again sorry this took like a literal 4 months LMAO I'm working on everyone's requests!! Despite ya'll probably losing interest already PS Itallics are Mayan

“No.”  Namor turned towards you, his nose flared with anger. 

“You may be my husband but you are also my king!” You stated pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I am bound by duty to protect you and the kingdom. You can’t stop me.”

Namor glared at you, his figure towering over you as he took a step closer. 

“Then as your king I order you to stay here.” Namor threatened. 

At this point, the two of you were yelling at each other. The two of you got word of a US Navy officer that was breaching Talokan’s territory. If they came any closer they’d be at the precipice to find Talokan. Something your people could not let happen. 

“When we wed, you swore you wouldn’t use your title against me!” You yelled out towards your husband who could only huff in frustration at your stubbornness. 

You were hell-bent on joining the other soldiers in protecting your land. Something you’ve done in the past before marrying him. But after your wedding, you had pushed yourself to the duties of the kingdom while your husband defends the lands. Yet, you longed to fight for your kingdom, you wanted to prove yourself again. 

But Namor wouldn’t let you. Namor had been adamant about not letting you on the battlefield any time there was any kind of fighting that needed to be done. Much to your frustration. You wondered if he didn’t trust your skills. If he thought you’d be a handicap on the field. 

“Do you not trust me in yakunaj?” My love, you spoke his nickname desperately. 

You were running out of patience. Why did he not want you out there? You could help. You wanted to help. 

Namor was running out of ideas, he had to get you to stay here somehow. So, with a heavy heart, he said something he never thought he’d ever say. 

“Because you’re weak.” Namor spat, “I can’t have you dragging the rest of my soldiers there. I can’t have Namora pay attention to you every waking moment just because you can’t hold your own there.” 

Every word that Namor spoke felt like needles against your heart as he stepped closer towards you. His eyes were blazing with rage, gone was the softness that he would usually look at you with. 

Here standing in front of you, you looked at Namor. Not K’ul’kulkan, the man you married. But Namor, the man whose enemies stretched as wide as the lands of the Earth. 

“What?”  You weakly murmured, not wanting to accept what he said. Namor only shook his head, a dark chuckle leaving him.

“You asked me before why I never let you fight. Because you’re not needed there. You’re weak, your job is inside these walls keeping the kingdom in check. Not out there.” 

Before you could say anything, the doors to your chambers opened. There standing in the door frame in all her military gear was Namora. Namor, inches away from your face from yelling at you, took a few steps backwards. Throwing his gaze away from your eyes. Namora bowed her head slightly at you and Namor before speaking. 

“The troops are ready, my king.” Namor nodded before flicking his wrist, dismissing Namora. 

A great silence followed between the two of you after the doors closed once more. Your back was pressed against a jade table carved. You didn’t want to believe what Namor said but with the amount of anger in his eyes when he stated all that. You couldn’t help but take it all to heart. 

Tearing your gaze away from him and shutting your eyes tight to stop any tears from leaving your eyes you gripped the jade table hard. 

You heard Namor turn in your direction, knowing he’d probably say something to backtrack the words he said. You refused to entertain it. One of your hands lifted to stop him. 

“Go,” you stated, “Your soldiers awaits their King.” 

Namor’s heart clenched at the sight of you refusing to even look at him. He didn’t want to say any of it, he just didn’t know how to get you to stay. He gritted his teeth and turned towards the door. He was about to leave without the good luck kiss you’d always give him before any of his missions. Though, just before he stepped through, he spoke. 

“I’ll be safe, in ki'imak óolil.” My joy. 

When his footsteps faded away you dropped to the ground, as you held your head in your hands, letting the tears run down your face. Were you truly that useless to him? 

You thought of yourself as strong, someone who could fight beside your love. You thought of yourself as his equal in almost everything except blood. Did he not view you as such? So much so that he’d use his title against you?

You gritted your teeth as the salty tears mixed around with the water around you. Unbeknownst to you, above on the surface of the water, Namor fought tooth and nail against the invaders of his land with a level of ferocity Namora has never seen in her cousin before. 

She watched with wide eyes as Namor spared not even a single soldier inside the submarine and the ships they attacked. 

When Namor returned, you were already in bed deep in your slumber. A part of him was glad you were already asleep, after all, that means he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of talking to you after that whole ordeal. But the other part of him wished you were still awake, maybe that way he’d be guilted enough to tell you the truth. 

But when he lay on the bed next to you, he winced in pain, forgetting about some of the bruises on his side. Namor’s eyes widened when he saw you start to stir in your sleep over the small sound that left him. 

When your eyes were wide open, well, as wide as they can get considering you were rather exhausted and you had been crying. A fact that struck his heart. You eyed him with caution. 

“Are you okay, my king?” Namor had to physically stop himself from wincing at the way you called him by his title instead of his nickname. 

He gave you a tight-lipped smile before leaning down towards you. Usually, he’d give you a small kiss before assuring you that he was alright, something he’d done countless times every time he got home from any of his adventures. But this time, he doesn’t even know if you’d want to be touched. 

“I’m alright in ki’imak óolil.” My joy. He’ll still use it to describe you despite the fact that you have started calling him by his title. 

Though he tried to reassure you, your brows furrowed in great doubt. 

“Then lie on our bed beside me.” You ebbed. 

Namor thought about refusing, knowing he’d put pressure on his bruises. Ones you weren’t able to see in the dark of your shared bedroom. After all, light barely travelled down to this depth of the ocean. But, he decided against it, knowing it would only arouse more suspicion.

So, after hesitating, Namor leaned down again on the soft bed. Only to, once more, groan when his own body weight pushed his wounds against the bed. He then turned to lay on his back. An uncomfortable, yet at this current moment, painless position to sleep in. You frowned at his reaction. 

“You told me you were alright.” You softly muttered, letting your hands glide against his bare skin in a small attempt to comfort him. 

“I am alright, just a couple of bruises that’s all.” He chuckled, his deep voice rumbling against your touch. “Are you worried for me in ki’imak óolil? 

You paused for a moment, the memory of your argument with him replaying fresh in your mind. It caused you to sigh. 

“I always am.” 

That was the reason you wanted to fight by his side. You didn’t want to be the decorated partner of the king, sitting idly in their throne room dealing with needless affairs only to have a soldier come inside one day telling you that your husband has died. Hours after the battle was over. 

You didn’t want that to be you. You wanted to be by his side as he fought. You wanted to either be there if he were to die or to die with him. You didn’t want to stay in your room worried out of your mind every time he leaves the kingdom’s territory. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I wish I could be there with you. To fight with you. That’s all I ask.” Namor shook his head, his eyes shutting from the fact that this conversation was beginning again. 

“I don’t want you out there.” He started. His voice cracked slightly. The exhaustion of the battle and the lateness of the time had loosened his lips. “I’m sorry about the things I said to you earlier today in ki’imak óolil.”

“I- You aren’t weak, you’re far from it. It takes a strong person to love someone like I.” At his words, you playfully hit his chest. 

“Don’t say that, anyone would be lucky to be called yours.”

Namor chuckled as he slowly moved his hand to hold your chin. He manoeuvred your face to look at him. 

“I think the same way about you, that’s why I can’t have you out there. I can’t-” Namor closed his eyes at the tears that threatened to leave at even the thought of losing you. “I can’t lose you. I can’t even bare the thought of losing you to those savages. I’ll already outlive you.” 

When he opened his eyes to stare at you, you could see the amount of anguish in his eyes. 

“You’ll die before I, so, is it selfish of me to try and keep you safe from any harm? I want to be selfish and take all the years I could from you.” He softly spoke, his lips closing onto yours. 

“Oh, in yakunaj.” My love. You whispered before closing the distance between the two of you. 

Who knew the King of Talocan had such a way with words? Your lips moulded against one another with so much love and adoration for each other that the action itself spoke the words that were left unspoken. Murmurs of apologies, statements of transparency. All of it was said through a single kiss. 

When the two of you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against his. 

“Fine.” you whispered, “I’ll stay out, but you must promise me to always come back to me.” You held his hands tight, “Always.” You strongly stated. 

Namor smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

“I promise.”

#namor #namor x reader #mcu namor x reader #mcu namor #namor the sub mariner x reader #namor the sub mariner #mcu

[xjustonemoremiraclex]

rwrb thoughts from someone who hasn't read the book (yet)

The good/general thoughts:

pleasantly surprised by the acting! which I know sounds mean, but listen, I saw these guys in other things and I wasn't suuuper into them, so it was a nice surprise lol

THE CHEMISTRY BETWEEN THE TWO again, pleasantly surprised by that lol they played off each other SO well

10/10 soundtrack, it definitely took inspiration from older rom-coms and I loved it <3

PS I really liked all the side characters! I wish we'd gotten to spend a little more time with some of them, but everyone was pretty great <3 also, all the women were awesome, and I am very gay and very in love <3

Ok, I really, REALLY liked how they showed the two of them texting each other, and the whole editing around it. It was pretty cute

I was living for all the latine songs at the new year's party, that was a nice touch

ok, when everyone was getting down at the party and alex and henry stayed up and stared at each other and time slowed down, I know it was supposed to be romantic, but I have to say it: it was also the funniest shit I've ever seen lol

henry at the party is giving both 'i have social anxiety and my only friend here is a social butterfly and keeps leaving to be with other people send help' and 'i thought you invited me here as a first date kind of thing but you're dancing and making out with other people and i'm feeling so betrayed rn :('

'christ you're as thick as it gets *kiss*' LMAO

Listen, I'm not usually into rom-coms (I say, like a liar), but I was pretty happy with the writing, in general. I laughed at all the funny parts, got emotional over all the dramatic ones and swooned at the romance bits. Great job, everyone

'I just can't afford for you to fall in love with me' LMAO babe, we're WAY past that. On both sides

ok, full disclosure: I don't really like sex scenes all that much (there's nothing wrong with them, I'm just very ace lol), so I usually just use my phone while they're happening, and while I did that a little bit here too, I was still paying attention, and honestly, they were pretty sweet. They did a good job. And, like, I have no idea why the film was R-rated lol you literally don't see anything

again, love the little montages that show the passing of time, while also showing they're keeping in touch and getting to know each other better and stuff. It makes the relationship between the two and the way it's developing feel a bit less rushed, which is nice

ZAHRA MY MOST BELOVED

YES PLEASE I WANT TO SEE THAT POWERPOINT PRESENTATION THANK YOU

KARAOKEEEE

alex giving an impassioned romantic speech to henry, about to confess his love: // henry:

'I didn't want to break his heart' - oh, honey, you already did :(

'to tell you that I love you, knowing that you wouldn't say it back' brb sobbing

NOT CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE 😭😭😭

'because when they write the history of my life, I want it to include you and my love for you' help i'm dying 😭😭😭😭😭😭

MIGUEL DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW IT WAS YOU please die in a fire <3

alex's speech was really good by the way 🥺

LOVESICK HOMOSEXUALS LMAO ZAHRA MY BELOVED

'baby' screaming crying throwing up jgdkfk

I FORGOT THE KING WAS STEPHEN FRY why is this so funny to me

SEQUEL WHEN

The... less good?/general questions:

Kinda wish there'd been a bit more enemies in my enemies-to-lovers film

'he just grabbed my hair in a way that made me understand the difference between rugby and footbal'' - please, I beg you, someone smarter than me - what the fuck does this mean 😭 ppl are LIVING for this quote and I'm like ??????

this is probably me being stupid and ignorant lol but why would alex's relationship cost his mum the election? like, from what I've seen, her government has been very pro-queer, that's not really a secret, so her son being queer and in a relationship with a man shouldn't lose her any voters..? the people who are against 'the queers' were not going to vote for her in the first place, soooo..? me is confused

honestly, this is probably an unpopular opinion, but... the king was not that bad? like, i'm not saying he's not kind of homphobic and kind of a dick lol but i get the impression that everything stems from the whole thing about sticking to tradition and public image and bla bla. Like, again, obviously, part of that involves homophobia, but I think that on a personal level, he... doesn't really care? Even at the end, he's like 'ok, are you absolutely sure about this, cause there's no going back. Yes? Really? Well, go off I guess *long-suffering sigh*'. Like, I got way more homophobic vibes from phillip than the king idk 🤷‍♀️ (I really hope I don't have to clarify that this only applies to the film, and not like, the real life crown lol)

Sooo, as I said, I haven't read the book yet, but I've seen some posts about it, and I think after watching the film I've realized that it's biggest flaw is that it's that - a film. It's a great film, don't get me wrong! And it's pretty obvious I really liked it. But damn, I'm a firm believer that book adaptations only work as series. They don't have to be super long or anything, but there is just no way to fit everything in a book in a two hour film. And yeah, when you're adapting something you have to make some changes, but Idk, it's kind of a shame that you lose so much (and even without reading the book, I can tell there's a lot of stuff missing). In any case, I can't talk too much about it until I read the book, but yeah 🤷‍♀️ It does seem like they did a good job, though - like, it genuinely can stand on its own really well, but I guess I'll have to find out for myself

Also, tagging @silassstingy bc I promised her my thoughts on the film and she might give me some interesting insights on some of the stuff I mentioned, cause she's a queen like that <3

#rwrb #all in all I give it like a 9.5/10 #I'm docking half a point bc it made me cry multiple times which was VERY rude(?)

[ravenyenn19]

“She Who Dies, She Who Rises”

New chapter is now live on “Dealing With Our Demons” by ravenyenn19 on ao3 🩻🫀

Happy Galentine’s Day ;) I hope you love this chapter! It took a lot of writing/rewriting/crying to make it the same as it was in my head but now it’s here! ily forever + thank you as always for being here & reading what I write. 🫶🏻

Find my other socials in my linktree! (It means so much to me when anyone gives my other platforms a chance- as a bby author trying to make it in the publishing industry it helps WAY more than you know<3)

🖤

PS- linking my kofi! If you enjoy my writing & want to check it out I am always so grateful! 🖤 Right now I’m actually going to be saving anything I receive for new glasses- unfortunately I don’t have eye insurance so I have to pay for it myself + it’s expensive 💔 But ya girl is tired of getting headaches squinting at the computer w her old glasses lmao.

As always, please know your support by reading my stories is more than enough🫶🏻🫶🏻 thank you forever dear readers.

#kanej #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #inej ghafa #dealing with our demons #kaz x inej #six of crows #leigh bardugo #dwod #six of crows fanfic #kanej fic #nina zenik

[saerotonins]

#⭐️ JJK ASK: Satoru & Sukuna how do you guys feel about the characters dynamic?? I feel like we didn’t get a lot of scene of them just talking 😭😩 YOU BOHT ARE SMOKING HOT I need to now do guys work out together ???! Pls tell the work out routine so I can find a girlfriend 😔😔

Ps: co-producer rica I need you to replace gege 🙏🏽

I love you writingggg it so funny and entertaining!! I look forward for moreee!!!!!😩😘

satoru: it's definitely an interesting dynamic that's for sure, the strongest and the king of curses? definitely something i would be paying to watch *laughs* thank you for the compliment, i knew my hard work paid off *winks*

sukuna: *groans* gross, you're really flirting right now? but anyway, i think sender had a typo and meant ME *shrugs and sticks his tongue out*

satoru: alright buddy, keep dreaming *laughs* but yes! me, sukuna, and toji often workout together when we have time, but it's mostly toji and sukuna doing all the spotting and i'm just minding my own business :P

sukuna: *nods* mhm, so you agree that you're a deadweight?

satoru: *gasps* i never said such thing! not my fault you guys are more knowledgeable than workouts than i am *crosses his arms*

sukuna: *playfully rolls his eyes* whatever. but as for a workout routine, we mostly just do the basics to maintain our shape and enough to keep our stamina improving which helps us in our fight scenes. i can't really share a specific workout routine since different bodies have different needs. but i suggest you know your body goals so you know what you can work on *smiles*

sukuna: anyway, i'm positive you can still get a girlfriend, i believe in you, this guy right here managed to have a partner. i believe you can too *chuckles*

satoru: hey! what was that supposed to mean? D:

co-producer rica's note: AHH nonnie!! you are so sweet!! although, i don't think director gege would approve of the idea LMAO but thank you so much for loving the things i have put out!! i really appreciate it, thank you sososo much <33!!

#JJK ASK EVENT 🎬 #⭐️ JJK ASK: Satoru #⭐️ JJK ASK: Sukuna

[white-poppie]

Melanin Goddesses

Request: hiiiiiii. I would like to ask you if you can make a headcanon of the Wammy boys reacting to their S/O Fem with brown skin and very thick thighs. If you have time and it doesn't bother you. Since your headcanons are so cool.

A/N: Hey there! I don't write for Matt when it comes to Wammy boys because I don't know his personality at all. Forgive me for that. The reader you described is literally me- wtf. Ps: I am a person of colour/ Indian/ too (just adding this before anyone gets mad.) Literally don't ask me what I wrote, I have no idea.

Warnings: Little suggestive for Mello.

Death Note (デスノ一ト)

L

This boyo has no interest in any physical characteristics. He only looks for personality, intelligence, maturity and understanding.

But he would be lying if he said that your melanin skin and thick thighs aren't a cherry on top.

He is literally so pale, so he was really entranced by the colour difference.

He thinks of you as some beautiful deity who ascended from heaven.

The first time he saw you wear shorts in front of him; he had a weird urge to bite your thighs??? (A/N: L what?)

He has always wanted to try resting his head on your lap to see whether it would be comfortable, but he is scared of making you uncomfortable.

You shuddered as you felt someone bear holes on your thighs. You looked up from your phone and saw L squinting at them.

"Something wrong, L?" you asked.

He shook his head but kept staring at your thighs.

"Uhh..is there something on my legs?" you mumbled, feeling very conscious.

L looked up at you and blinked, feeling bad for making you uncomfortable, "No, I just want to rest my head on your lap."

You stared at him for a few seconds before cracking a smile, "go ahead."

Near

Near is childish yet mature at the same time.

Therefore, I conclude the above-mentioned statement by deducing the fact that this lad would rest his head upon your legs while he talks about the most disturbing conspiracy theories, darkest cases etcetera. (My thesis is ready lmao.)

He mindlessly traces shapes on your arms, thighs...basically, anywhere he has access to, it makes him so relaxed 🥺

Overall it is all about emotional connect with him.

Near was laying on your tummy. your thighs rested on his shoulders as you two watched Howl's moving castle.

"Howl and Sophie are literally made for each other, "you sighed.

"But technically speaking, isn't Sophie like...60?" near replied while thinking and drawing circles on the exposed flesh of your thighs.

"I mean, yes, but he is a magician and she does, slowly, turn back to normal," you answer.

"Yeah," Near closed his eyes and turned around, burying his face in your chest, " 'm sleepy."

Mello

1 word: simp.

You know how that one audio that goes: "I Just Shot My Shot at this Lil Fine, Wonderful, Succulent, Lovable, Incredible, Cinnamon Chocolate!" Yep, that's him when he looks at you.

Unlike the other people, he will absolutely not hesitate to just randomly pick you up and put you on his lap.

Love-bites everywhere he can get his hands on!??! o//o

The kind of guy who would just randomly ask, "crush my skull between your thighs."

Also, he squeezes the flesh of your thighs to get your attention.

When he is driving, his hand is always resting on your thigh when it is not on the gear.

He just loves teasing you so much and seeing you get all worked up.

"Pay attention to me, babe, I am telling you something, aren't I?" Mello huffed, sitting in front of you.

"I am almost done with my-" your remark was cut short, by him squeezing your thigh.

"Mello," you warned.

"I am sorry, it's just too squishy!" he pouted and you had to leave your work in the middle just to listen to him ranting about this new chocolate flavour.

Death Note (デスノ一ト)

Tags:  @rintaroubby​​ @nanaseishiro​​, @akumicchi​​, @navaratna​  @idowritingandstuff​​, ​ @denkis111​​, @jazzylove​​,@maybeleftoverjourneys​, @lordmypantsaresocool​​, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle​​, @kristaline2dmensimp​​, @repostingmyfavs​​​​,

Also Check out: L'appel du vide

Synopsis: Your husband, Hanma Shuji is dead! You team up with Tachibana Naoto, Chifuyu Matsuno, Ryuguji Ken and Mitsuya Takashi, you go on a journey full of betrayals and twists. Can you find out what really happened to your husband?

Requests are open (*3*)  Reblog/like to give the author a hug (´;︵;)  

#death note #death note x reader #death note x you #death note headcanons #light death note #l lawliet #ryuk #light yagami #near death note #l death note #l lawlight #l lawiet #l lawilet #Light Yagami #mello dn #mello x reader #mello death note #nate river #wammy boys #mihael keehl #white poppie🌼

[minkdelovely]

I’ve been a silent reader but I can’t be any more bc you have to know just how amazing your work is! I just caught up on love and power and OH MY GOD?????! The entire fic is written amazingly! Like I was drawn into the story since day one, but then as the story progressed it felt like it got even better (didn’t think that was even possible but here we are) and I am hoooooked. All the characters feel true to who they are but even the way you wrote Valentino felt so authentic that conniving bitch By the time the smut came I was in full on SHAMBLES- kicking my feet and all 🫨 the way I would pay to be bitten by that man 🤧 Angst usually hits me so hard bc I’m a softie but the recent chapter was fucking IMMACULATE 😭 this is the angst I’m going to keep thinking about for weeks. I’m rooting for them my softie is showing pls don’t look at me but damn this chapter hurt so good in a way that I didn’t know I needed. Anyways I’m sorry for the rambling so long story short I love your story it’s an 100/10 🫶

I’M GONNA FUCKING CRY OVER HERE OMGGG 😩❤️‍🔥

Thank you so, so much for this like… omg — my brain is having a hard time trying to think of all the different ways for me to convey how I’m feeling 🥲🙏🏻💖

I’ve honestly poured a lot of love into this for y’all (and myself lmao) so the fact that you’re enjoying it this much is just… so insane to me 🥹❤️‍🔥

THANK YOU FOR THIS PRECIOUS MESSAGE — I’M GONNA REMEMBER IT FOREVER 💖

But don’t be shy with your soft! I like it 😌✨ because I’m rooting for them too. It’s not over yet, my dear!! 👀💖

ps: thank you sooo much for the compliment about how the characters are coming across, this is one of the highest forms of praise to me. i’m especially tickled that you enjoyed the way i wrote valentino — he’s honestly soooo much fun 😈 hehehe

#mink writes

[aenslem]

do you have any advice for making gifs? i’ve become a fan of something that has barely any posts besides photos and for the first time ever a desire to make gifs came over me and honestly it’s kinda overwhelming so literally any tips would help, thank youuu

I do have a photoshop sideblog @creationsofthedark Whatever I write here is already reblogged there or posted, so you can check it out, just in case, I remember making a tutorial on how I make gifs, and tbh not really much changed since then. I know there are many ways to create gifs, however, I can speak only about the one I use.

Also suggest to check #photoshop tag on my blog, i might have answered some things about giffing process before that might be useful for you as well.

You need a device, program for screencaps and photoshop.

I use laptop, you can do the same on pc, if you have only ipad or phone then I would not be able to give any advice, I tried to create gifs on ipad, failed, so we are not gonna talk about it ever.

I use mpv for screencaps, thanks to amazing tutorial here that will help you to install mpv player and make screencaps from video.

You will also need photoshop, if you are not willing to pay for it, that's fine :D Not sure if it works, but here is a cracked version of ps you can check, or just google it, there will be lots of things you can get... for free. Yep, I am suggesting to pirate it lmao

So, once you have everything, make screencaps and here is the old tutorial to create gifs, back then i used kmplayer, but let's be honest that shit sucks recently and i am tired of it. So like for years I use mpv now.

I also was using cs5, cos my old laptop could not handle anything better, but newer versions are similar, so you will figure it out. Might as well do another tutorial, but not right now. You can also check some more photoshop blogs out there, they all have great tutorials on how to make gifs. Definitely better ones than my old one lol

And you will also find there lots of my psds, colorings that I used at some point and decided to put them there, they won't work on everything, but you might use them to learn how to color gifs yourself.

Do not be scared to experiment and do not give up if something does not turn out as good as you have it in mind, my first gifs are still out there and they suck, so yeah, you do it, you learn and you get better.

#ask #photoshop

[muertawrites]

For your Eddie SFW prompts: K, O, U please and thanks! (PS am enjoying your writing!)

ooh yay another mature babe! let's do this hot girl shit ✨

k i have already answered

Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I have a feeling that Eddie gushes about some things but keeps others locked super deep. Like, you wanna know what his favorite guilty pleasure song is? Why he's in such a bad mood this morning? His crazy irrational fears? He'll tell you all of it without even being asked. Really simple stuff that isn't too emotionally deep he gives openly and easily.

It's the serious stuff he's not as generous with. Because of his family setup, there's a pretty good chance Eddie experienced some level of abuse and neglect in his childhood, and is likely living with the effects of trauma. And he doesn't like talking about it - at least not with people he doesn't trust. But he really doesn't want to end up like his dad, and lives in constant self doubt and loathing because he wasn't given a sense of worth in his early development. It's easier to hide those fears under false confidence, especially when you have a target on your back.

Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's a slob. Like massively. His van is littered with fast food wrappers and he doesn't do any kind of housekeeping until it gets completely out of hand. Blame it on the executive dysfunction.

He's also a smoker, as we know. This might be a personal thing, but cigarettes can be pretty gross. They reek, they make your insides disgusting, and everything in a smoker's house smells like tar. This is a habit Eddie's willing to break if he knows it bothers you, though. When you find the pack of nicotine gum in his discarded jeans you almost cry. Like omfg does this man love you.

And while we're on this topic I know a lot of people are under the impression that he doesn't pay attention to personal hygiene but I think this is wrong?? I mean look at that mane. It is immaculately cared for. He may not be out here drowning in cologne or doing a 12 step skin routine but he definitely has a good relationship with soap and deodorant. He's a mechanic. There's nothing more valuable to him than a shower.

Emotionally he's kind of melodramatic. When he's grumpy he can get pretty snippy and mean, and he takes everything as a sign you don't like him anymore or are mad at him. The good thing is that if you're similar to this (like I am lmao) he's excellent at sensing when you're having your own moment and being the stable one. You ping pong back and forth with your instability and it's adorable.

#eddie munson #eddie asks #sfw alphabet #eddie munson headcanon #muerta attributes her traits to her fictional boyfriend #I just relate to him a lot ok #we share a soul

[jooyeone]

would you mind sharing advice on coloring gifs? yours are absolutely gorgeous

hey love! sorry for the wait, i've put a mini tutorial under 'read more' explaining how i made my coloring for this particular gif & some of the ways in which i use my go-to adjustment layers. i didn't have a chance to use every adjustment layer (like hue/saturation, which is a layer i use a lot!), but if you have any other questions that i didn't cover here, do let me know 🥰

start with curves - i personally find that adding the curves later on in the process will either undo some of the color editing you have already worked on or the changes you are going to end up with will be too drastic (so you run the risk of quality loss). because the curves layer makes such a big difference, finding the right black and white points and getting rid of weird tints/filters in the original footage in the very beginning will help you have a clean base to work with, where (hopefully) all the colors are clearly separated.

already a big difference! i found a white spot i liked somewhere on lighter window area, turned the layer opacity down to around 70% until it looked natural enough and this is the base i’m gonna work with. the colors are much better separated now & ps can isolate the reds, yellows and greens far more easily for me now when i add in the next steps (selective color with an emphasis on making the reds and yellows warmer + some vibrance):

if the style you are going for is bright and vibrant, this is where i would normally come in with some brightness+contrast and exposure. for this particular gif, i added a brightness layer where i did not edit the actual values, but instead did this to the layer itself:

then i added an exposure layer, where i increased the exposure by about 0.17, decreased the offset by about 0.0015 and brought the gamma correction to ~0.95. all of these steps brightened up the gif and added some definition:

this is just my own personal preference, but sometimes i like to add a gradient map just to emphasize some of the colors in the gif; in this case, i wanted the gif to feel warmer and lean more heavily into the warm yellow/green hues, so i’ve created a gradient map that looks like this:

this is 1) going to accentuate those warmer tones and 2) naturally bring in a bit more light into the footage. i bring the opacity down to ~20%, play around a bit more with the selective colors to get the shades of red/yellow/green i want & correct the blacks/neutrals if i need to.

then i come in with a final levels layer, where i create the final contrast - if i love starting with curves, i also almost always end with levels because i find that it gives me the perfect finishing touches. to me, that’s the stage where i am happy with the colors themselves, i juuust want to make them stand out a little more & make the gif feel a little more alive. here, i brought the arrow on the far right closer to a value of ~230 and the arrow on the far left to 4-5. this depends entirely on your footage and what you’ve done with the coloring up to this point. it’s very easy to over-brighten a gif at this stage and pay in quality loss (i’ve had my fair share lmao) or over-contrast it by making the darks too dark, if that makes sense. in the end, this is what i ended up with:

aaaand here is the before/after of the gif itself:

#ps tutorial #..? i guess..? #i used to have a tag for this at some point but. anyway. #i hope this helps a bit nonnie! #this was one of the few psds i had saved so i could show you layer by layer #and there was no need for me to use hue/saturation and photo filter on this footage #but they are both layers i end up using almost every time i gif #if i can be of any more help let me know 🤗 #answered #anon