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thatonelesbianfander · 1 year

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My favorite Sanders Sides headcanons that I have that I will add to almost any AU I make:

This is a top 10 list of different headcanons that I have for every side + C!Thomas that I add to every AU I make of the sides. Also included are gender, pronoun, and sexuality headcanons as well as a few extra headcanons with the whole group

Small TW for weapons mention

(Quick little thing: When I’m talking about Thomas I mean C!Thomas)

This took so long to make I swear-

Cut off because this is a really long post

Remus

Achillean/Gay (switches between labels)

They/them nonbinary

1) Remus is autistic (I have a different post about that here so I won’t go into much detail)

2) They likes to doodle on their headphones, so all their pairs of headphones are just covered in stickers and drawings

3) They does pole dancing for sport and are really strong because of it

4) Sometimes Remus will end up falling asleep hanging upside down on their pole and no one knows how or why they do it

5) They have a weapon called a “jack handle” which is a handle with a button that can transform it into any weapon at will

6) Remus has octopus tentacles that they can summon at will, which they usually use as a hammock to lounge around

7) They are very dependent on attention and if they don’t get attention they will be very spiteful, and do things just to annoy people until they are given attention

8) A lot of times, Remus’ll just say the most unhinged things ever and then just be like “Anyways, today I saw a balloon :D”

9) Remus grows their hair out really long that they have to have Janus help them keep it clean

10) Remus likes having their hair played with and combed

Janus

Pansexual

It/they agender

1)Janus plays guitar and has actually written a few songs of its own

2) They work as a lawyer

3) They like to read in its spare time, but usually ends up having to keep Remus near them in order to be able to read for a long time

4) It can transform into a snake at will, which they usually use so they can get some rest while staying near Remus

5) Janus uses a scythe as its main weapon with their cane being used as a prop to give them a more dramatic flair

6) They cannot look casual without looking like a model, they literally do not know how to make a casual outfit because it’s so dramatic

7) Janus likes customizing its hat with different kinds of ribbons and bows for different occasions

8) They have a lot of snake like traits, a couple being bad eyesight, cold blooded, and being hard of hearing sometimes

9) Janus’s shapeshifting tends to go haywire when it’s stressed

10) They suffer from identity issues sometimes because of their shape shifting powers

Roman

Gay

He/she bigender

1) Roman is very protective of his family

2) He has ADHD

3) He is very artistic, being able to draw human anatomy really well, but usually gives up when it comes to faces, leading a bunch of her artworks faceless

4) She only really gets vulnerable about his feelings with people he’s close with and trusts

5) He is very protective of her loved ones, leading herself to get injured a lot trying to protect them

6) Roman has a hyperfixation on Disney, cartoons, and theatre

7) She is a very big theatre person, and performs in almost every community theatre production

8) He is fluent in Spanish, and knows a little French

9) She carries a bag with a sketch book and some art supplies with her wherever he goes

10) Roman can be pretty reckless at times but not as much as Remus

Patton

Asexual omnisexual

He/him trans male

1) Patton likes to bake desserts for all the sides

2) Patton is always the first one asleep in the house

3) He is usually the one who ends up having to stop arguments

4) He is very understanding of what the others need and will make sure to do what he can to help the others

5) He is very good with pets and it usually the person the others go to when they need help with their pets

6) He loves wearing stuff with pastel colors

7) Patton likes to collect stickers and basically everything he has ends up covered in stickers

8) Patton doesn’t like to fight and usually tries to talk things out with the person but will throw hands if he needs to

9) He is very generous and puts others needs before his own, opting to help others with their problems before fixing his own

10) Patton doesn’t have any weapons due to not liking fighting

Virgil

Bisexual

He/they demimale

1) Virgil is usually the last one asleep in the household

2) He likes to collect pins and buttons

3) They are very skilled with knife tricks, sometimes showing off the tricks he learned during gatherings

4) They mostly stay in their room which is dimly lit and quiet

5) He has his old season 1 jacket still hanging in his closet although they never wear it anymore

6) He has a horrible sleep schedule due to insomnia and usually takes a lot of naps during the day

7) They are very good at hiding and bending in due to their darker color pallet

8) They like to collect vinyl records and have a record player in his closet that he plays the records on

9) He is a very big horror movie fan, and watches a bunch of different horror movies (usually also accompanied by Remus)

10) Virgil still likes to use wired headphones but mostly uses Bluetooth ones since they’re easier to use

Logan

Polysexual

He/it agender

1) Logan is the cook of the household

2) Logan tends to get very caught up in its work, sometimes forgetting to eat lunch

3) He secretly loves to sing, and can sometimes be caught quietly singing to himself while working

4) Even though it tends to get caught up in his work, it still has a very good work schedule

5) It likes to keep to schedules and will schedule a bunch of stuff months in advance

6) He likes a lot of things that would seem “girly” to other people and thinks gender roles are stupid

7) One whole side of his room is just a library of books that he’s collected

8) It’s a really big fan of comic book but doesn’t admit it

9) It likes to volunteer as a librarian sometimes, and will help the local libraries

10) He has the most healthy diet out of everyone in the group

C!Thomas

Gay

He/him cis male

1) Thomas is a father figure to Remus and Roman, helping the two through anything they’re going through

2) He is the only one in the group who’s able to hold everyone together

3) He wears a flower clip in his hair with the petals colored to each of the side’s colors

4) He cannot keep a houseplant alive even if his life depended on it

5) He is very dedicated to his acting career

6) He likes to collect little trinkets like stones, shells, leafs, etc whenever he goes somewhere and has a big box of stuff in his closet

7) Thomas is very protective of the group but knows how not to put his life at risk while protecting the others

8) He is very thoughtful of the others feelings, and is usually the person the group goes to if they need comfort

9) Thomas loves to buy new Lego sets so much that the others usually have to convince him that he doesn’t need a new set

10) He likes trying out new things from time to time and sometimes picks up a new hobby because of it

Extras: Group

Ships: Demus/Dukeceit, and sometimes LAMP

Remus, Janus, and Roman are all best friends

Roman and Remus have a really good sibling bond, they like joking around with each other and will comfort each other when one feels sad

The twins will sometimes end up getting themselves into trouble because one decided to encourage the other’s stupid decisions

Remus and Virgil are very competitive when it comes to Just Dance and will both cheat each other over if they play together

Roman and Remus both have matching masks of those theater masks with Remus having the smiling one and Roman having the frowning one

Roman and Remus will have duals in the mindpalace for fun

#thatonelesbianfander #sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #demus #dukeceit #sanders sides headcanon #tw weapons #tw weapons mention

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furymint · 4 months

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2023 Creator Reflection

ffxiv.

1. dance me to the end of love

this one was fun! i always like merging a character's outfit with the bg so i liked doing that again. picking the colors for elliots outfit was also enjoyable. ive wanted to make smth w that cover for a while

2. shame was still the tyrant of his life

i only wrote two nol and eli things this year and neither of them are finished. the first was a continuation of a scene where nol kisses elliot against the blue stained glass in his room--i once posted it but then i deleted it bc it made me feel woozy for its allusions to sex. i wanted to rebuild it and take a shot at it now that im comfortable writing n reading sex, but i never got very far. theres actually lots of nice parts! i just like nols dumb angsting the best!

3. valentine

i really wanted to focus on nol's eye here, but also not make it too obvious lol. i used a ps filter like a schmuck but i wanted it to be darker without making it even more difficult to see, so i took away their bodies and limited the colors to make it what it is.

4. amateur cracksmen

the second nol n eli wip, which doesnt have many interesting lines rn, was a raffles-inspired story where eli drags nol as his valet to a rival artist's house and tries to steal back the brooch that he bought from an underground dealer feat. much babbling abt the state of societal responsibility that war is supposed to bring

ffxvi.

1. herz an herz dir

i wrote some reflections about this one already here. i honestly was very (distressed voice) cant believe im writing pure fanfic for the first time in over ten years and lacked a lot of direction when i started bc uhhhhh terence has 8 and a half mins of screen time. i tried to convince myself that it's not much different than me stealing brucemont for my own evil devices, but the unique perspective of seeing quite so much fan content def influenced my interpretation. i wanted their relationship to be much more imbalanced from the get-go initially--dion using his power unintentionally and terence barely passing a thought abt it until later bc he's just so accustomed to obeying--but i ended up giving terence a lot more sway & ammunition in their argument. the breakfast bed thing is also smth im rly fond of.

2. mund an mund

there's also additional meta for this one here. i made a silly doodle abt it also. dion kept picking fights here! it honestly turned out how i expected. when i first started this fic, i was gonna have dion start out right in oriflamme and meet ter and kihel there, but i booted them to northreach so i could have this stretch of conflict. i think it's like. Bad Pacing. technically. if i still believe the conflict introduced in the next chapter is the core one, that is. which i sorrrrta do. but i dont care bc i rly like the visual of kihel laying in dion's lap and getting to put a gun on the wall w ahmed.

3. eines atems

its been two months since the last chapter and this chapter is humiliatingly not written. i have all my scrambled notes and scenes that i jotted down in between the first two chapters, so i have a full direction, but it's been really difficult to write lately. ive been devoting all my time to trying to recoup my mental health and work on my teredio secret santa. ill start next year with this wip as a priority, so for now i only have the photoshop edit for it. kihel is holding terence's hand--it's his pov turn.

overall i didnt like this year very much. i didn't read, create, research or do a lot even though i tried to. i became really disconnected from all of my friends bc im too tired to stay for rp or hold online conversations. at this point, i dont play ffxiv at all except the few times i managed to rp a little. i moved into nanny's house and have my own space, but don't have the presence of mind to do anything about my pc, books, and so on, although i did make a lot of progress rewrapping my books w fresh wraps and some other things. my plans for next year are to reach out to a couple of my friends, build my pc, relearn + rebuild + relaunch my queer lit blog on open source code, survive school, and rediscover the productivity ive lost the past few years.

teredio has helped me a LOT to find community, inspiration, and art in my loneliest year yet. im very proud of my fic and grateful every day to the ppl who have reached out to me about liking it. even if im sorry about my productivity rate in comparison to how many extraordinary writers there are in the ship's fandom, i know i have to be easy on myself to relearn how to write, create a writing schedule that works for me, and stop punishing myself when i cant get the words out.

past reflections: 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

#ngl writing this out made me feel like #i reopened a lot of grief about my ability to work and create #and i need to walk away from it before i cry even more lol #thank u to my fc for still being the place #i love to visit when i wake up #even though all of us a struggling a lot #with life and ingame motivation #brianna babbles

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summercourtship · 8 months

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stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter six: karma [part I]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content (actual smut here)| word count: 5712 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

chapter one |

A stray drop of water hit the crown of your head, pulling you out of the dazed stupor you’d slowly put yourself. You’d been keeping yourself occupied by doodling absentmindedly without really looking at the paper, which was the only way to survive the longer shifts. You peered upwards, frowning at the small wet spot on the ceiling, another drop slowly getting ready to fall. Of course, there was a leak in the store’s ceiling. You grimaced, rubbing the water into your hair before you thought about the fact that the convenience store was on the bottom floor of a four story building. Meaning that the liquid on your head probably wasn’t rain water. Or if it was, it had been a long time since it had actually fallen from the sky.

You stepped to the side just in time for the second drop to fall and hit the floor.

“Ugh.”

You leaned against the counter, staring at the yellowed clock on the opposite wall of the store, the numbers barely visible behind its musty surface. It was probably your job to clean it but at this point it would be more efficient to just replace it and heaven knows that nobody at the store was going to spend the money to get a new one. So you were stuck with the gross clock, squinting at it to make out the time. You’d been in the store for barely three hours and yet it was like an entire day had already gone by.

Only a week had passed since Spring Break had ended, meaning only a week had passed since you’d visited Arkham. On its own, it would have been a fairly uneventful day if not for the surprised job offer from Jonathan, which you put in the back of your mind to think about later. And also coming face to face with Edward Nashton.

It wasn’t like you had forgotten that he currently lived in the asylum, it had just seemed unlikely that you would encounter him given the clearance level you'd been assigned that day and the sheer size of the asylum. But no, of course they had to be moving inmates down that hallway at the same time that you were traveling through it. And of course the Riddler, of all people, had been among them. It was nothing short of proof that there was, indeed, a divine blueprint for your life. The higher power of Gotham had singled you out and decided to make your life as dramatic as humanly possible.

But all things considered, you were proud of yourself for not reacting the way you would’ve expected, given your mental state for the past year. Sure, you’d been startled by his presence and there was a small twinge of genuine fear in your gut. But it quickly dissipated upon seeing him and his reality. Because while he had inspired some dangerous people with his own actions, he, himself, was no longer a threat. He was locked away with little to no access to the outside world, his days of streaming vitriol and murdering corrupt public officials behind him.

It was what he deserved. And yet, there was a small part of you that had recognized a horrible twinge of sympathy when you had made eye contact with him, when you thought about his soft features needing to survive in a place as rough as Arkham.

You looked down at the scrap of receipt paper you’d been drawing on, realizing with a groan that you’d accidentally drawn the Riddler’s symbol, the question mark and barbs mockingly staring up at you. Recoiling backwards like it actually had thorns, you tried not to think about why you’d drawn it. Snatching your pen from behind your ear, you scribbled over it, coloring an entire square inch of your paper black before ultimately deciding to just crumble it up and throw it into the trash can that sat underneath the counter.

And then somehow you missed, the paper ball landing pathetically on the stained linoleum floor.

Sighing, you crouched down, snatching the paper ball off the floor and crushing tightly within your fist. The ink from where you scribbled over the symbol was still wet, staining your skin with the stinky pigment. You stared at the splotch and realized that you apparently hadn’t done a great job covering up the question mark as it was clearly visible on your skin.

The bell above the door chimed out, bringing your attention up from the floor. With a sigh, you finally tossed the ball into the trash can. Keeping your eyes on it to make sure that it had actually made it into the trash can this time, you stood and looked up from where your attention had been focused on the trash can underneath the counter.

And right into the barrel of a pistol.

“I don’t want to shoot you.” The man had on a cloth mask covering the bottom half of his face, his dark eyes laser focused on you. His voice quivered slightly, though the hand holding his gun was steady. “Reach into the register and give me the money.”

You didn’t think twice before you reached over and, with your own shaking hands, unlocked the cash drawer. Grabbing the paper money was hard with the instability in your hands, but you managed. Throwing the wad of cash across the counter, you placed your hands on your head, praying that the amount would be enough for him.

It was then that you realized that you weren’t afraid that the man would shoot you- you were angry that this type of shit was happening again. Your hands were shaking from the adrenaline, not fear.

As you watched the man grab the money, you couldn’t help but think back to your conversation with Jonathan, about Gotham branding you as a victim. You fantasized for a moment launching yourself across the counter, taking the gun from the man’s hand and turning it on him. Taking out the frustration you felt at the lack of control you had in your life and making him pull the trigger- You stopped yourself from going any further in your imagined scenario.

Violent fantasies never helped anyone.

The man counted the cash, quickly flipping through the wrinkled paper.

“This is it?”

“Yes.” You didn’t have it in yourself to say it meekly, to play at being anything other than pissed. Perhaps having too many close calls with danger but being saved at the last minute took away your sense of self preservation. Like a wild animal who had been fed by humans too often, maybe you’d forgotten how to fend for yourself, how to survive in a dangerous city like Gotham.

For a moment, the man looked like he was going to ask you again, or worse, come around the counter himself. You didn’t know what you would do if he did that- it's not like you had anything protecting you back here- no secret weapons, no panic buttons- but you liked having the barrier of the counter between you and the robber, no matter how flimsy it actually was.

But then the man accepted your answer, or decided that the money he had gotten was enough, because he simply nodded once and, keeping his gun trained on you, left the store, walking backwards until he pushed open the door with his back. Then he turned and ran down the street, shoving his gun back into his pants.

You watched him leave, your breathing surprisingly even.

And as the intro to Shake It Off started from the store’s radio, sounding tiny and muffled as the opening drums echoed eerily in the empty space, you sighed and buried your face in your hands, threading your fingers through your hair and pulled.

Working at a corner store in Gotham was an inherently dangerous job.

You knew this the day you applied for the job. You knew it when you accepted the job after a bare-bones phone interview. You knew that’s why the job was so easy to get in the first place.

Even so, you hadn’t had anything actually dangerous happen while you were on the job. Walking home after work? Sure, there’d been a few tense moments and the unfortunate mugging last October. Encounters with Gotham nightlife. But during work hours? You’d been lucky enough to say that you’d been relatively safe. Until today, of course.

But it’s not like you could just quit, right? You needed the money, you had no other source of income. You were barely coasting by as it was.

Though, you did have that other job waiting for you… One that probably paid more than this shitty job that didn’t even cover the cost of living.

“No.” You told yourself out loud, you voice loud in the empty store. You’re thankful the security cameras had no sound, if they were even functional at all. “No, I’m not leaving one slightly dangerous job to go work at Arkham Asylum, not happening.”

Even as you said this, you knew you didn't really mean it. You were well aware that a well placed touch or one perfectly timed glance from Jonathan would immediately entice you to accept the job, or to do anything else for that matter. You were positive that if you told him what had happened during your shift, he would try to convince you to switch to Arkham right now. To forget about the stupid convenience store and work with him- under him.

You continued to debate with yourself as you watched your shift drift closer and closer to its end. Quit your job and work in a hospital for the criminally insane with your psychology professor who you were also sleeping with or stay at a shitty job that didn’t appreciate you? It was a hard decision.

Fifteen minutes before your shift’s end, the bell above the door rang and the last person you wanted to see at this moment entered the store. You groaned, burying your face in your hands again even though you knew what he would say when he saw you.

Sure enough, soon his gravelly voice overpowered the Fleetwood Mac song currently being piped into the room.

“What are you doing, slouching behind the counter like that? I don’t pay you to lean.”

Slowly, you looked back up at your manager. And despite your earlier apprehension at quitting, seeing his smarmy, greasy face with patches of unshaven beard and a dab of spaghetti sauce on the corner of his mouth brought forth all the unpleasant emotions you had been made to feel since you began working there. It was his fault that you were mugged that night, that you were just held at gunpoint. The constant dismissal of your very real concerns about your safety, the audacity of him calling you spoiled for not wanting to work late at night as a young woman in a city with the worst crime rate in the state, if not the entire country, had boiled over into a stew of resentment and anger.

Then he smiled at you, like he was your buddy, and that was it. You were very aware that you had been staring at him silently for longer than was socially acceptable, but you no longer felt any need to care about it.

“I quit.” The quiet words were out of your mouth before you realized you were saying them. It was like you had said them as you had thought them, as you realized how much you truly desired it, not thinking about the change they would enforce on your life. No, you didn’t care about the butterfly effect they would cause from this moment onwards when you said it. Because it was worth it to see how it instantly wiped the smile off of his face. Even though he was certainly used to people quitting on him, you had taken his abuse and turned a blind eye to his mismanagement for so long that he surely thought you would never stand up for yourself.

“What.”

You straightened your back, no longer afraid of angering him. Finally, you had said the two magic words that usurped any power he had over you.

“I. Quit.” You reached down to your name badge, ripping it off of your stained work shirt. The force of your movement created a small tear in the shirt, but you couldn’t care less. You’d rip the shirt off your body and leave wearing just your skirt if it meant you never had to step foot in this store again.

Snatching your purse from where you’d stashed it beneath the register (thank goodness the robber hadn’t seen it and demanded you hand it over, not that you had any money inside), you stormed around it to the other side, brushing past the manager. He was still, watching as you swept out of the store. But before you opened the door to leave, you turned to him.

“Oh, and we were robbed. There’s no fucking money in the register.”

Slamming the door behind you, you scanned the street for Jonathan’s car, knowing he was bound to be here already with how close it was to the end of your shift. You didn’t dare to look back at the shop behind you but you were sure your manager was staring through the window and sending daggers into your back with his eyes from behind the counter.

Finally, you spotted his familiar black sedan, picking up your pace until you were able to wrench the door open with your shaking hands.

You jumped into his car, squeezing your eyes shut and taking the deepest breaths possible as you tried not to break down into sobs. If he said anything in greeting, you missed it. You could feel him staring at you, his concern unspoken in the chilly stagnant air between you. It was that weird time of year where no one seemed to agree on whether to turn on the heat or air conditioning in their cars. Jonathan had decided on AC, making his car uncomfortably cold.

Though his car was running, and he was clearly poised to start driving, he didn’t pull out into the street.

Instead, he placed his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing a circle over your skin. He probably thought the action would soothe you but with each circle, his touch became more and more overwhelming, your already overstimulated nerves screaming to be left alone. It took every ounce of self control to not grab his wrist and yank his hand away from your body.

But he still didn’t ask you what was wrong, clearly waiting for you to break the silence.

So you did.

“Can you just-“ You stomped your foot, all of your unnamed complex emotions from the day boiling over into a stew of frustration and anger. “Drive?!”

Although, you planned to calmly ask him to start driving. But clearly it hadn’t come out that way, and now the air was heavier than before, anticipation weighing you down. You were stuck with him in this car, waiting to see how he would react to your outburst.

You hoped that he would see the sour mood you were in and just take you home.

But he didn’t. The car was horribly immobile, and you could feel the slowly increasing weight of his stare on you. You began to turn to face him when he moved, grabbing your chin with a vice-like grip, wrenching you further around to look at him. You were so shocked by his sudden movement that you were still, a deer stuck in the headlights of his attention.

The gesture itself was gentle, but there was a pressure behind his fingertips that betrayed the underlying tension in his body.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He spoke softly. In a different scenario, this would all be wonderfully intimate. Romantic even, with his touch on your face. But instead it was terrifying, the weight of his attention crushing at such a close distance. His fingers pinched your skin, holding you still. You were a muzzled dog, eyes wide and staring into his.

(And somewhere, deep down in your body, was the familiar beginnings of arousal. But you would examine that later when you weren’t on the verge of tears in his car, when he wasn’t inches from your face and able to see every twitch and quiver of your muscles. Part of you thought that maybe he was able to see it in you anyway, even after you decided to push it down.)

“Now, do you want to be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?”

Slowly, you nodded. To your relief, he let go of your face, though he still didn’t start driving. It took every ounce of will power in your body to not press yourself against the passenger side door, to give yourself some space from his suffocating presence.

“I quit my job.” Shakily, you began to describe the robbery, but also all of the awful things your manager had said to you, today and for the entire time that you worked there. Throughout it, Jonathan simply watched you speak, not reacting, not offering words of comfort.

Halfway through your explanation, Jonathan started driving, his eyes on the road but sliding over to you every few seconds. Like he was waiting for you to lash out, to lose your calm again. For your part, you kept your eyes on him, though you wanted to remind him to keep his eyes on the road.

“...And that’s why I’m in a bad mood.” You finished speaking, a bit lamely. Any of the frustration and unidentifiable emotions that had been stuck in your throat dissipated as you spoke, leaving you with nothing but a cold numbness and a sense of embarrassment at the rashness of your actions.

He was predictably silent.

You sighed, turning to look outside of the passenger window. At least you no longer felt like you needed to scream, or to cry. But you still had no solutions to the fact that you were now jobless. You knew that Jonathan would, probably, remind you of the job at Arkham and that you’d said you would take it once the semester ended. Surely, you could take it earlier, he would reason with you. But you still didn’t know if you had told him that because you’d actually meant it or just because you wanted to get him off of your back for the moment, to buy yourself time to figure out what you actually wanted to do.

Yours was the eternal curse of indecision, it seemed.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure if he was apologizing for what happened to you or for how he just treated you. If it was the latter, you’d forgive him. You’d already forgiven him the moment he let go of you. His eyes were on you, long enough that you feared he didn’t know what was actually happening on the road. “Why don’t you come over and let me make it up to you?”

You finally tore your gaze away from him, instead choosing to stare down at the ink splotch on your skin. If you squinted, you could still make out the question mark from your absent-minded doodling. It was like the universe was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t figure it out.

“I… suppose that would be fine.” You heard your voice like you were listening through a paper tube, or a phone call with poor reception. You didn’t really want to go over but the idea of being alone was worse than sitting in his sterile apartment.

And you really didn’t want him in your apartment.

“Good.”

Jonathan looked back at the road, the yellow and white lights of the passing buildings and street lamps reflecting in his glasses. You watched him from the corner of your eye, feeling like once again you had lost some battle. And then you berated yourself for even thinking that. You and Jonathan hadn’t defined your relationship but you knew that no matter how you ended up defining it, you shouldn’t feel like you were in a constant war with him.

But your chin still smarted from the pressure of his fingers on your skin and your pride still stung from the humiliation of your own behavior. You had acted like a petulant child, something you never did around Jonathan. He was right to be upset, you reasoned, because you were acting like a brat when you were a fully capable adult who was able to communicate effectively.

Jonathan cleared his throat, something he rarely did.

“The job offer for Arkham still stands.”

There it is.

“I know.” You paused, uncertain how to express yourself. “But-” You stopped, shaking your head before taking a deep breath and starting again. “But I don’t know if I actually want that job. I mean, am I even qualified for this job?”

You missed what he said next from the overwhelming sense of deja vu, a flashback to half a year ago when you were in his office and asking him the same things about your TA position. Which, in reflection, seemed to become less important with the more time that you spent with him. It didn’t even seem like he needed you to do work for him as an assistant anymore. Since spring break, you haven't been given any assignments to grade, even though you knew that he was still collecting them (thank you, annotated syllabus). You couldn’t shake the feeling that he had exhausted his use for you there (and was searching for somewhere else to put you so that he could keep you close).

Then you berated yourself, again, for flattering yourself.

“What?”

He made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, a low sigh that almost had you flinching backwards. But he didn’t move, simply repeating what he’d said. You’d overreacted, mentally chastising yourself.

“It’s a secretary position. Hardly anything that needs qualifications.” He smiled, in an attempt to be reassuring. But you still felt like a fish on a hook, right before the line reeled back in. Or perhaps like someone who was about to have the rug pulled from under them.

“But it’s still in a hospital-”

“I wouldn’t have offered you this job if it wasn’t above board.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “I’m not agreeing, but I’ll trust you.” Sorry for doubting you, you tacked on in your head. “Just let me think about it.” The six words that kept him at bay because you knew that, ultimately, he would get what he wanted.

His hand found its way back to your thigh again, though he refrained from resuming the circular motions with his thumb. Whether he knew it was because it was too much for your over stimulated nerves to take or because he didn’t want to risk you lashing out again.

He stopped the car, removing his hand from your thigh and parking with ease. You scrambled out of the car, your legs unsteady beneath you like a newborn deer. Taking a deep breath, you crossed around the car to Jonathan’s side, allowing him to place his hand on your lower back and guide you into his building.

Jonathan’s apartment had remained relatively unchanged in the few weeks since you’d begun sleeping together. You had no drawer of things, no personal effects scattered around his space, nothing to indicate that you spent a large amount of time here. It didn’t bother you. You really hadn’t spent that many nights together, with the exception of the four days you’d spent tangled together over spring break but it was certainly not enough to begin encroaching on his space. And besides, he rarely entered your own apartment, and you liked it that way.

You liked to keep the memory of him visiting you after your Scarecrow encounter sacred. You didn’t want to sully it with random sex scenes and mundane conversations. Domesticity would ruin it, would clear away the romantic haze that your memory had cast over it all and leave you with reality.

Even so, you were more than comfortable entering his space. You no longer felt the need to perch on the edges of seats or linger in his doorways. (Though that’s probably more due to the three and a half days you had spent in various states of undress around his apartment than any sort of newly gained confidence after your first visit).

You sat down on one of Jonathan’s arm chairs, watching as he crossed the room and took his own languid position on his couch, one leg crossed over the other, his posture relaxed against the couch’s back.

“I’m not saying I’m taking the job but I do want to know- what exactly would my duties be?”

“It’s secretarial work but it will be similar to what you do with me now. Just paperwork, running errands around the asylum, pretty mundane things.” He removed his glasses, placing them on the arm of the couch before leaning his head back, closing his eyes. His neck was exposed further with the change in his position, a long column of white against the dark fabric of his suit and the couch behind him.

“Errands?” Your throat was dry and you did your best to subtly clear it. Jonathan’s eyes stayed closed, the inner end of his eyebrows pinched.

“If I need to get a memo to a doctor in the medical wing, you’ll take it. The electronic system they have in place for things like that is flighty. It’s a lot easier to send a person with a paper than to try and send an email.”

“Right.” You nodded absent-mindedly, rising from his couch to look out of the windows. It was quickly becoming your favorite way to view the city, so high above it all but still in the middle of it. You weren’t looking at the skyline but rather observing your place in it.

A thick raindrop splattered against the window before being followed rapidly by others. Splat, splat, splat. The sound was loud in the silent room and you wondered if Jonathan had fallen asleep. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he would do, but he was so quiet. You watched until you were no longer able to see out of the window easily, the colors of the city melting into each other through the coat of water.

Sighing, you turned back to the interior of the room, immediately meeting Jonathan’s open eyes, their arctic blue focused on you. He watched as you crossed through the room before settling beside him on the couch. You were restless, something he now seemed to be keenly aware of.

“Do you enjoy being my TA?”

“...Yes?” Not intending for it to sound like a question, you shook your head before restating your answer more firmly. “I enjoy the work… and I enjoy spending time with you.”

“That I know.”

You smiled at his gentle teasing. Of course, he knew.

“But I do think you’ll enjoy working with me over at the asylum.” He shrugged. “It’s very similar work.”

“You really want me to take this job, don’t you?”

He nodded, his eyes flickering to your lips. Your heart skipped a beat, your breath quickening instantly at the simple gesture.

Insatiable, you thought as you scooted closer to him, crossing the rest of the couch before closing your eyes as your lips met in a gentle kiss. You pressed yourself firmly against him, rising to your knees to kneel on the couch cushion, leaning over him slightly. His hands found your hips, bunching the fabric of your stupid work shirt.

Pulling away from him, you ripped the shirt off of your body, tossing it onto one of the arm chairs, needing to get the disgusting fabric away from you. As soon as it was off of your body, you rejoined your mouth with his, pushing his body against the back of the couch.

You were well aware that he was letting you take control right now, that it was not stolen dominance but temporarily borrowed. The moment he decided to take it back, you would gladly let him.

Your hand drifted downward over his body, lingering over the slowly growing tent in his pants. Smiling against his lips before parting from him, you looked into his eyes as his cool breath fanned over your face. Your fingertips teased at his button and he watched unblinking as you kept tracing vague shapes over his clothed length, obviously debating whether or not you should undo his pants and pull him out.

Like he could sense your indecision, he took your wrist and pressed it down firmly onto his cock, hissing through his teeth at the sudden pressure.

Surging forward and pressing your open mouth to his parted lips once again, you undid the button on his pants, fumbling until you were able to pull him out of his pants. Keeping the pressure that he had guided you into, you began to move your hand. When you pulled back from kissing him, his lips were wet with your combined saliva and flushed, parted as he panted with your ministrations.

Unable to decide which was better, you switched between watching his face and your own hand moving up and down on his cock. When you looked up to his face again, you met his half-lidded eyes as he watched you essentially ogle his member and your grip on it, his lips parted slightly.

You stuttered in your pace and he moved suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly and pulling you off of his cock.

“Get up.” He patted his lap once and you immediately understood. Breathing out shakily, you moved over his body and climbed onto his lap, grinding down onto him, sighing at the pressure against your core. He slipped his hands beneath your skirt, hooking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear before pulling them down your legs. You rose again, helping him in slipping them off of your body.

With a final grind of your now exposed cunt to his hard length, you groaned when the head of his cock pressed against your clit. Now impatient, you reached down and guided his cock to your entrance, slowly sinking onto his hard length with a deep groan from your chest. His head was leaning against the back of the couch again as he looked at you down his nose, his lips barely parted as he watched you slowly impale yourself on him.

With each inch you sank further into your own abyss, no longer caring about the ugliness of the day. What was there to care about when you had Jonathan Crane beneath you, looking like he did as you filled yourself with him?

With a deep breath, you bottomed out. Keeping your breath even, you allowed yourself a moment to adjust before gently pushing yourself upwards, his cock sliding out of you until just the head remained inside of your cunt.

And then you set a slow but steady pace, fucking yourself on his cock.

But with each time your hips met, your pace grew faster, your legs working to pull you up and down until you were practically bouncing yourself on his cock.

“Good girl.” His voice was breathy and deep, muttered against your lips as he allowed you to take your fill of his body.

You knew that you were whimpering and nodding like a mad woman, eagerly grinding down onto his cock as you chased your orgasm. You snaked your hand down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You could feel yourself clench around his hard length and your bouncing slowly morphed into a frantic grinding, drawing pictures with your hips as you tried to find the spot within you that would send you into your climax.

“That’s it, come on my cock, that’s a good girl.” He whispered and you had no idea if he meant for you to hear it at all but it was enough to push you over the edge, your body caving towards him as you shook with the force of your orgasm. You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, pressing down on his cock until your hips stilled, your body tight with sensitivity.

But Jonathan wasn’t done yet, his cock still hard inside of you. As soon as you were finished coming, his hands found your hips. Quickly, he began to thrust upwards into your cunt, using your body like it was nothing more than a method for him to finish. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, biting back whimpers at the continued assault of sensations on your overstimulated senses.

He cursed sharply under his breath, his grip tightening as he began to lose his rhythm. With a last few sharp thrusts, he threw his head back, groaning deep in his chest as he filled you with his warm spend.

After a few moments of sitting with his slowly softening cock still inside of you, you started to move away before he grabbed your hips, stopping you from getting up off of his lap. Slowly, you sat back down, not unaware that he was becoming hard again.

“We aren’t done yet.”

Later, in the familiar haze of the afterglow, your nose buried in the crook of Jonathan’s lithe neck, you mumbled your decision. “I’ll take the Arkham job.”

He shifted underneath you- you’d moved to the bed a few rounds ago, but they all blended together into an abstract portrait of sweat and lust- pushing against your arms to pull your face away from him and to look into your face.

“Are you sure?”

Not at all.

“Of course.”

It all felt very familiar, though the last time you’d agreed to something like this with him you weren’t in his arms or his bed. But you felt the familiar twinge of pleasure at the soft, pleased smile on his face. And underneath that, the curl of anxiety at the notion that you had given in too easily.

next part

#the title Karma is more in reference to LWYMMD than the actual song Karma- I firmly believe that Ed was in his rep era during the film #jonathan crane x reader #anyway #my writing #jonathan crane x you #scarecrow x reader #the batman #batman fanfiction #my fic

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leggyre · 8 months

Note

You got any adivce for someone who's considering dropping drawing completely since they don't like what they're making at all?

honestly i've been in the same struggle recently bc it just hasn't been a good year for me. i haven't been drawing a lot bc most of the time i'm either sick or i just.. can't. I've been picking myself up as of late and it's a really difficult grind, but honestly the fact i've been able to actually start this grind is already good for now. I guess that counts as advice; be patient with yourself. Self-esteem doesn't come easy and the little steps are worth so much more than you think.

ok so uh,

-if you just started, don't think about it too much. we all start with the weird scribbles. if you stop now you might never get back to it -if you've been trying to doodle often and always end up hating the result, just take a break. art block is seasoning for burnout and you might just be tired. a lot of times i've felt bad about my art i kinda "gave up" for a while and when i came back to it it was like "wtf this easy what was my issue (it was burnout)". so take a break, play some videogames or hang out with your friends for a week. idk write essays about the media you like? it feels like you're being unproductive but resting IS part of productive because just pushing yourself will just result in nothing being done at the end of the day. -look at your favorite work! im not quite out of my latest artblock yet because its a tough one(it's been teaming up with depression caused by health problems it suuuuucks :/), but when i went long enough without being able to draw I kinda started feeling like I can't do shit and can't call myself an illustrator at all specially bc what i do isnt that big of a deal compared to others(<- comparison also big mistake remember youre the only one who can make YOUR art), going through my folders and seeing the stuff I like the most gave me a LOT of motivation to keep going, even if I was still unable to start drawing right away. not giving up is so important. -so yeah love your art. focus on drawing things you like because it's a gift from you to you, and you should treat it as such. i know it's really hard to be positive about it all the time but it can be really good to go through all your artwork at the end of a day and look at the things you like about it, even if it isn't much. -on that note, find something you really like drawing!!! back in high school i had massive periods of depression that kept me from drawing but i occasionally found sort of a 'life hack' for myself which were things i was always able to work with even during the worst times. one of them was just.. bees. i just doodled random characters as these bees and made og designs too and it was fun. the other one was using colored pencils instead of a regular one bc i just like colors and it made me happy :] it didnt matter that they always had the same overall shape or if i couldnt erase when i messed up, i was just feeling good being able to draw something that i liked. -experiment more!! expand your palettes and download some new brushes. i even change from my newest to my old busted tablet that still sorta works occasionally because using a tool that feels different is.. refreshing somehow? idk -when you need to get yourself back up, do the little steps at your own pace. do a little doodle every day. it's okay if it's always the same thing. the same character. the exact same idea. it's okay if it sucks or if it's unfinished because you struggled. Just give it little pushes. What matters is to try. and it's okay if you can't do it every day. maybe every other day if you need a slower pace. -and remember. engagement doesn't measure your skill. art is subjective anyways!!!!! i spent YEARS doodling and posting only my ocs and getting little to no notes. i think one of my favorite artworks from the time i had ~100 followers had like 0 notes for the longest time. to be honest i don't even know if it has any likes at all nowadays i'd have to look it up bc it's a bit buried

#ask the leg

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lmelodie · 1 year

Photo

I KNOW I said that I would keep these kinds of posts to 1 spread only

BUT I JUST CREATE FAR TOO MUCH FOR MY OWN GOOD. I got a truck load of doodles and concepts that I can only scream about on tumblr.hellsite because no one else can decipher my nonsense. Im sorry these kinds of posts are always so wordy. But here ya go.

I have also taken to writing notes on these pages, so you’ll get a little more of the thought process here.

Spread 1 (The Kids are Alright):

Since spirits in my universe don’t age this funtime What if really only applies to the Crystal Springs universe, so have fun with this Dani!

And I have formed a parental attachment to baby!Kills ok, that is my own son thank you very much. He’s a fucking MENACE.

Because kids need to actually be BORN in CS, Kills, I would imagine, is a little orphan trash baby. He never knew who his birth parents were (and frankly doesn't particularly care), but he was adopted at a very young age by Duna! His canonical mother figure! He cares about this goblin woman to NO END I love her.

Plus, the DITELINE KIDDOS! I didn't know what their color schemes were besides Robyn having white hair, so I guessed. They're cool, I like em! (The random color dots right above them is the very basic genetics chart I did for hair/skin/eyes)

Spread 2 (MN Adjacent):

Hey look it’s me!

Aren’t you tired of not being soft? Don’t you just wanna be held? Don’t you just wanna be TENDER? (Mans might be a little touch starved and thats Ok)

Funtime Gender Swap shenanigans! This is NOT an AU because Kills is a shapeshifter and therefore can be a lady whenever he wants (But mostly on Jack’s birthday 🤫). I might, heavy on the MIGHT do dome more gender swap doodles of everyone else. Lady!Bernard and MILF!Jack are fun thoughts to have.

These MN concepts are REAL OLD from when I first got into the fandom. It was SUPER HARD to decide on how i was gonna draw her, but I take all of these as other clothing options she has in her closet.

MN and Jack used to go to the groundhog announcements together before the falling out, and its a tradition that they’ve recently picked back up again after the redemption! But just to annoy him and heckle the little creature >:)

It’s a toss up where or not they both agree to follow the groundhog any given year or they just do their own thing to piss him off more.

Continuation of the little incident where Lucy was almost thrown across the room (Don’t mind that i accidentally made him too big in this panel, getting the heights consistent is HARD)

#digital art #Fanart #crystal springs #cs au #OC #kidsau #doodle dump #fusion au #mother nature #jack frost #again very sorry for the content overload #my hand HUNGERS for more art and I am powerless to stop it

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awesomedurraworld · 7 months

Text

The Bear is sick.

cover doesn't belong to me.

Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

Gen

Fandoms:

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga

Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types

Relationship:

Edward Elric & Roy Mustang

Characters:

Edward Elric

Roy Mustang

Mrs. Hanna

Additional Tags:

Parental Roy Mustang

soft Roy Mustang

caring Roy mustang

Roy Mustang loves children

Foster Parent Roy Mustang

Foster Care

Edward Elric is a child here

Edward Elric needs love

Hurt Edward Elric

Sick Edward Elric

Sickfic

Bedtime Stories

Chicken Soup

Head pats

I think there was a kiss too? Don't remember

Been while since I wrote this haha

Asshole CPS worker

hinted Royai

yesss

also

This was like written in February

And it’s so tiny

But enjoy tiny stuff and love them

Just like you love Eddie Elric

Who speaks like a person who doesn't know English the poor baby

He came from an abusive home

Aka HO WAS AN ABUSIVE MAN

Also the story they read is a childhood book that my mama read to me when I was a just a tiny girl

Fluffy with tiny Angst

Happy Ending

Summary:

“ Da bear... sick.” “ huh?” “ Da... Beaher Ss sick.” “Okay, chum! get comfortable.” Roy fixed his position to be closer to Ed and took a hold of the big book, “ The Bear is Sick.” he read the title before he opened the first page. Or! Roy Mustang decided one morning to be a foster parent, and tonight he is taking care of his five year old sick foster child.

Hi guys! 💖

Posting this here to give a little shoutout to my stories haha. My story, The Bear Is Sick is heavily inspired by the storybook “ the bear feels sick.” ( or The Bear Is Ill in some Countries)

Growing up, my Mama used to read me and my siblings story books, and this book was one of them, and since I could remember, I was always mesmerized by its wonderful water coloring like illustrates, and it’s sweet story.

Around October last year I was cleaning our library when I found this book and got inspired, I doodled few drawing and in February I wrote little Edward owning the book.

This silly cute draft was sitting in my noted app, till the end of June, where I finished it up and posted it on the first of July!

My story is short, being less than 3k words, but it is one of the most loved ones that I have posted this year! In my fic, I kinda of scratched the surface of the situation that, unfortunately, a lot of kids and teens will go through. I am not a fostered child and never experienced it, I have built it based on my researched facts and the stuff my online friend told me about her experience.

Remember, if you can help those teens and kids, please do! Donations ( money, clothes, bags, food, whatever you can!) can make a human’s life better. If you can't give them something physically then give them a prayer and if you weren't a believer then just send them some good thoughts.

( um, if you can leave a comment? 👀 because, like, we All have a very hard life and I kinda want something to make me smile? 🫣 i swear I am not this petty usually but oh well)

See ya at Ao3, peeps 🫡❤️💖

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lonelyquail · 6 months

Text

oh boy I finished (citation needed) a new game time to add to the veedia tag again

metal: hellsinger (ps4)

this game is Lovely. this game is so fun. I cannot aim to save my god damn life. metal hellsinger accomplished a major feat in having the only possible setup in the entire world to encourage me to play a first person shooter (being, really good metal and rhythm mechanics) and to that I applaud it because I consider fpses to be sort of my mortal enemy? right next to mmos and fighters? im gonna go into it more let me not take up ur entire dash.

the gameplay is Lovely. i did play on easy mode but ough the. shotgun cocking effects to the beat of a good metal song. there is Nothing Like It. the difficulty is Honestly Not Bad ** given some practice time and its very much a delight to play. well. save for one part but ill get to that. its a darkly lit game which is a problem but all of the enemies are color coded, glow, and have their own sounds and that alleviates it a bit.

i will say that the game is. Not Optimized to PS4? it is. Quite Glitchy and while I don't mind most of them i know some people do and there were a few that very much got in my way (i posted the acheron boss glitch a couple hours ago). also sometimes enemies just get stuck in the floor and youre waiting for them to pop up so you can move on. thats fun. also the bug enemies suck. the shield enemies also suck. those arent glitches i just hate them.

as for plot uh. this game was not made for plot. i accept this. its kinda Just Okay but it doesnt really need to be more than that. you play a scary demon lady who wants nothing more than to rip the devil limb from limb. whats better than that. youve got a troy baker skull. the plot there is admittedly pretty cute especially if you try to analyze the lyrics but i am also very much a sap and it hit a specific genre of Relationship In Media That Is So (Kinda Just There) Its Not Even A Subplot which is one of the few genres i can actually stand. i will say i feel i got a bit beauty and the beasted at the ending but like. eh. it wasnt that much. anyway. next point

theres no bad songs in here. my favorite is this devastation easily. ost introduced me to arch enemy which is a band you can all tell I'm normal about. the lyrics only kick in when youre at max multiplier so being able to hear a good drop is a good motive to get decent and not get hit. i think my ranking of songs is this devastation - no tomorrow - burial at night/stygia - dissolution and then everything else is kind of at the bottom in no particular order. not to say i dont like them but theyre all the same level of like. also serj tankian is there. he is lovely. he does the final boss theme (no tomorrow) that I wish I could fucking hear him over damage sound effects and myself swearing. yeah now we get to that

** The Final Boss Is Bad. yeah my main problem (and kinda only Real Problem) with this game is uh. i dont think i can actually finish it? there is an Enormous difficulty spike at the final boss to the point where my first run of lasted a solid Two Minutes if that and i am on easy mode. my friend described it as (game is touhou now) and yeah i can see it. first person touhou. nobody wants to play first person touhou. i dont want to play first person touhou. i didnt actually beat the game i just watched the ending and resolved to get back to it when i feel like it (never) and do better things with my time. like draw unknown in little outfits.

anyway thats My Thoughts. its a good game and i will probably keep playing the levels over n over. for people who dont replay these games over n over it is definitely not worth the money as you can pretty easily slash through all the levels in one sitting if you know what youre doing but i am easily entertained and love rhythm games. stay tuned for doodles of the unknown with my general fashion sense. listen to the two best tunes also. maybe listen to the whole ost after if u like it.

youtube

#veedia 2023 #vee shut up

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ayo-aatc · 3 years

Text

so anyway

#aatc #alvin and the chipmunks #doodles #ended up coloring this little doodle so it gets its own post

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excavatinglizard · 3 years

Text

I wasn't sure if I'd work up the nerve to post this (blame my brain) but honestly, Day 6: Fake Relationship is just the best excuse out there. How could I not?

A cover design for @fireinmywoods' fic Palimpsest. Please please go read it.

Some of my thoughts under the cut, with spoilers for the fic itself. Don't open if you haven't read it!

Oh my god I’m so sorry but this is such a long rant about a pretty simple picture. I’m just bored and I love getting to explain my thought process over the hours it takes to draw and I usually try to stop myself. Anyway, yeah, I promise it’s not as deep as i make it all sound here.

Recently I went: You know what? If I'm going to have Palimpsest on my kindle it damn well needs a cover. I went through a couple concept doodles before settling on this one.

Format: Ok, i haven’t read Palimpsest in a while but I tried to put as much in as I could. The concept of Jim and Bones facing opposite directions is meant to be a bit of a reference to 'read one way and then another'. The original concept doodle actually had them on either side of a spiral maze, but damn it I refuse to draw that much grain. As it is this is definitely a bit of a 'fuck it, squares' moment.

The choice to have Bones facing the camera (viewer? audience? what do I say in this case???) again is literally just because he's the narrator. We’re seeing what he wants to show us from his own point of view. Jim’s face is obscured; we don’t know what he’s really thinking or feeling, only what Bones sees of it.

I’ve already said I refuse to draw too much grain (even though I seem to keep doing it. ITS JUST SO PRETTY), but I KNEW I needed them out in a field. Someone in the discord once mentioned the paragraph:

He tips his head back against the wall and looks out at the corn bordering the schoolyard, vividly green against the backdrop of blue sky, golden tassels swaying lazily in the breeze. Terraforming is a hell of a thing. This place was probably an uninhabitable rock a couple centuries ago, and now it could easily pass for Illinois or Iowa. He wonders how Jim feels about that. All the work the man’s put into leaving his childhood behind, years of striking out deeper and deeper still into the great unknown, only to end up in another damn cornfield.

Now, I don’t trust a single one of you to not open this before reading, so I’m not going to expound on why this line stuck so firmly in my mind, but just trust that it did and I wanted to include it in the cover. I also pulled some of the imagery I used in the SIEL cover and had them both being a little bit consumed by the grass, sinking in around the ankles.

Color scheme: I don’t know why, but Palimpsest has always given me very warm-colored energy, in the same way that SIEL was always greys and greens. Gold corn, red sunsets, blond hair and endless skies. I also like drawing in warm colors, and it contrasted the SIEL cover nicely. I admit I think of the stories as two parts of a set, and I do so like when series have covers that work together.

Extra details: Take a look at Bones. What have we got?

A med kit. A tricorder. A wedding ring. His colors stand out against the corn and set him apart. I may have tried hard not to spoil anything, but I’m very much not above putting plot points in the fine details. Fight me.

You could probably argue that the black swirl means something, but really I just love the contrast and I think it looks cool. And it makes the text stand out, which i was having trouble with. And fills space. Yep.

Anyway, that’s it, thanks for reading this far if you did! I had a lot of fun with this piece :)

(And I’m so sorry Em if this is coming off as obsessive, I have no excuse other than your writing makes me lose my shit (in a good way). It does not leave my brain)

#mckirk #mckirk fanart #excavatinglizardsart #trektober 2021 #long rambling post #Leonard mccoy #Jim kirk #fireinmywoods #palimpsest #cover illustration

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi!! This is based on a reddit post I saw where a woman found her husband's "secret stash" of all the love letters/cards/post it notes she had written for him through all the years that he kept!! (🥺) and I would love to see it rewritten with Coops, if you want! Thanks for all the stories you write. I v much appreciate u

Okay so I looked up the story you’re talking about, and that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever read. My god. I’ve mentioned that Remus leaves notes in a couple of past fics, so this was just a perfect ask! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

For the anon who watched a sad video in their class: Have some coops fluff to dull the pain!

Remus sneezed as he shifted the nightstand a smidge to the left, exposing a dozen dust bunnies that were starting to look more like dust rhinos. He pulled and rocked and pushed, but the small table refused to move far enough for the vacuum cleaner head to fit through. “We need to clean this more often,” he muttered, opening the top drawer to unload some of the weight from inside.

Three books, a handful of pens, a spare toothbrush, a waterbottle…Remus shook his head at Sirius’ collection of oddities, smiling to himself. The nightstand moved a bit more when he wiggled it, but not quite to the point he needed it.

The lower drawer was bigger, and scattered with whatever Sirius had left in his pockets at the end of the day—Remus found three different packs of gum and laughed a little at the knickknacks they hadn’t been able to fit on their dresser. Part of him wanted to put everything back and ask Sirius to go through his own shit, but it was kind of neat finding souvenirs of their everyday lives.

Remus paused when his hand hit something solid and smooth before the back of the drawer. He felt around blindly, then carefully pulled it out. A box? His curiosity got the better of him before he could debate the nosiness of opening it; he lifted the shiny lid, tingling with anticipation, then frowned.

Paper. The box was full of slips of paper.

Lined, colorful, plain white, even some of his old PT stationary—everything Remus could think of, including a few cards at the bottom. He took a piece off the top and unfolded it, then nearly dropped the whole container when his own handwriting stared back at him.

Left @ 8 to see Leo. You were still out cold—sorry for wearing you out (not😊). Will be back around 4-ish. Love you! <3

Remus blinked at the note in shock for a moment. He remembered writing it on the old bookmark the morning after they went to the trampoline place and spent five hours jumping until they could hardly feel their legs. “But this was last summer,” he said aloud. “I—what?”

He poured a few more into his palm and set the box down gently, then sat back against the side of the bed and began to read.

Crock pot turned on. Pls remind me to take it off @ 5 pm. If I’m not home, pls unplug it @ 4:45 was written on a corner of printer paper.

Happy birthday baby! You are wonderful in every way and I love you so much <3 Here’s to hoping all your wishes come true! Love, Re, on a birthday card he had picked out because the dog on the front looked just like Hattie.

An entire conversation, complete with doodles and sarcastic comments from both of them, written on a piece of lined paper from one of the many conferences they had attended together.

- Eggs

- Chicken

- Bread

- Sweet tarts (for my sweetheart)

- Oreos (there’s a sale this week, coupon under note 😊)

- Pasta (twirly kind)

Love you <3

in his loopy half-cursive, with the shape of a fridge magnet still indented at the top near the crumpled edges from being shoved in Sirius’ back pocket.

“Well, shit,” Remus said, sniffling despite the fact that no tears dampened his eyes. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dozens, if not hundreds, of little papers stared up at him from the open box and he blew out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the one in his hand. He hadn’t realized just how many notes he had written over the course of their time together, and he skimmed his fingers through the rest before carefully putting the ones he had taken back in and closing the lid. The box fit into the drawer with ease and he leaned his head on the wood for a second to slow his heartbeat.

The nightstand moved the last few inches once the rest of the clutter was strewn across the floor and Remus quickly vacuumed the dust elephants before dumping it all back in. As much as he itched to throw some of it out—the empty wrappers and pen caps didn’t seem to have a use—he was afraid he’d accidentally toss an important memento. Hell, the note box had looked like a pile of confetti at first.

The front door opened just as he began lugging the vacuum cleaner downstairs. “Re, I’m home!” Sirius called, then broke into a bright smile when Remus appeared in the stairwell. He was soaked in sweat and Hattie was breathing hard; she collapsed on her bed with a dramatic groan after drinking a few mouthfuls of water, too exhausted to do more than thump her tail on the floor.

“Heya, handsome.” Remus’ heart picked up its pace again. You kept all my notes, it shrieked happily, doing its best to break right out of his chest with affection.

Sirius tilted his head when he saw the vacuum and the dust on Remus’ pants. “Were you cleaning?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get under the bed for a while, and I didn’t have anything else to do.” He shrugged. “You’re welcome to do it next time, if you like.”

“I’ll do the dishes to make up for it,” Sirius said as he leaned in for a kiss.

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t. But I will dust the bookshelves and wipe down the kitchen.” They both laughed and Remus stood on his tiptoes for a second kiss, sliding his teeth over Sirius’ lower lip and drawing a noise of surprise from his mouth. “Hi. What was that for?”

“Love you.”

Sirius glanced down at himself, then raised an eyebrow. “…because I walked the dog? Or is it the sweat?”

“It’s definitely not the sweat,” Remus snorted, smacking his rear as he passed. “You can take yourself right upstairs with that. Where did you even go?”

“Around the neighborhood, then to the park. She grabbed my hat and we played keepaway for a bit.”

Remus hummed as he bent down to plug the vacuum into the wall socket. “How the hell did she—oh, ew!”

“What?” Sirius asked with mock-innocence as he lifted Remus higher off the ground and tucked his gross, sweaty face into his neck. “You don’t want cuddles?”

“You are literally dripping! Get the fuck off,” Remus said around his laughter, swatting at his shoulder when Sirius started swinging him back and forth slightly. “Sweat monster.”

“C’est vrai.” Sirius kissed the hinge of his jaw and set him down, then headed toward the stairs with a final grin. “Thank you for cleaning, mon loup.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Remus said, rolling his eyes playfully. A soon as he heard the bathroom door close, he let go of the vacuum and did a happy dance in the kitchen, much to Hattie’s amusement. He would have to remember to leave notes more often.

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captainhysunstuff · 3 years

Note

hey hey, in celebration of kingdom hearts’s anniversary, you should talk more about your version of birth by sleep with death note characters :D

Oh noooooo *covers face in nerd shame while laughing hysterically*.

Had to draw my favorite Birth By Sleep exchange. Misa’s always seen as so young, and it annoys her. She’s such a little sister~. I honestly never thought about what their outfits would be, so I came up with something on the fly, though Light’s just in Terra’s as a placeholder. It’s harder since they’re supposed to look like an older more traditional fashion (though Ventus still seems to wear whatever the heck he wants, just with a muted color palette~). Oh, and sidenote, everything is completely platonic. I actually don’t ship anything in the Kingdom Hearts series. I support all the ships that exist though, canon and not~. ^__^ I do intend to draw more scenes with these three in these roles when I have time. Maybe I should draw more actual KH fanart. *snort*

Ha~! I honestly don’t know what else to say about it aside from what I’ve already said in this post [link]. All I can really say is that I didn’t mean to do it~. I really try to accept things the way they are, but as I kept coming back to BBS’s story, the Death Note part of my brain did its thing. *shrug* I still love Aqua, Terra, and Ven just as much on their own, though. ^__^

I just love this family dynamic between Terra, Aqua, and Ventus, and seeing it with Light, L, and Misa is freakin’ adorable. And their story is tragic, perfect for Death Note characters who just want happiness and fulfillment, but are firmly denied it and are sent through hell just to reach a better conclusion. The BBS trio are put though so much. *cries*

L being sent to keep an eye on Light, who seems to have strayed onto a dangerous path, fits. Light being confused and upset that he’s mistrusted fits with his memoryless Yotsuba Arc self; friendlier but no less focused. Misa wanting to be more included but keeps getting left behind fits. Her being spiritually cleaved in half works due to her life span getting added to and chopped up, starting out involuntary, but then willingly sacrificing herself (though in Death Note, it’s done selfishly while Ventus does it to protect everyone; chalk it up to her darkness still being firmly in place~).

The story’s basically the same, aside from my selfish recasts. They’re the only three I’ve recast and Vanitas is re-gendered to be female while still looking like Dark!Sora (though I think Xion does this, too, so it’s not that farfetched). It’s all an excuse to see the Death Note trio in sweet situations (going to Disney Town and winning custom ice cream and being disappointed the other two aren’t there, treasuring the wayfinders L made for all of them), kick lots of ass, be emotionally and physically tortured as far as a kids game can go (heart cleaved and put to sleep and having to watch everything Sora goes through [good and bad], manipulated and bodysnatched, being forced to wander a dark monster-infested world for 10 years and slowly succumbing while your guilt and longing torment you) and finally earn an amazing reunion ending where they cry in each others’ arms because they never stopped thinking of each other that whole time~.

Also, I can really see the main cast of Death Note being keyblade wielders (they all have strong hearts and stand by their beliefs and goals, regardless of what that entails). One day, I want to draw each with their own unique keyblades and Dive to the Heart stained glass pillars, but in the context of Death Note’s canon story. *looks them up* Apparently they’re called “Stations?” That’s an ambitious goal for the future.

Henh, this isn’t nearly as in depth as you probably wanted. It’s more like a wordy mess I spewed with a doodle~. :P But thanks for the ask and showing interest~. :D

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hufflautia · 4 years

Text

Different Love Languages

✨COMMENTS+REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED✨ They motivate me and make me supes happy, so please pretty please reblog and/or comment!! It doesnt even have to be a coherent comment, keysmash if you must! ok fanks go read now and enjoy <3

Summary: Hufflepuff is the type of person to express her love verbally but Slytherin is different; he hardly says “I love you” and Hufflepuff worries that maybe it’s because he doesn’t love her as much as she loves him. Our darling puff will realize that this is simply not the case. People just have different love languages.

Hufflepuff loved Slytherin. She really did. In fact, she reminded him frequently.

“I love you,” she chortled during breakfast when Slytherin had cast a spell to make the bacon strips float around in a dancing manner so that she would cheer up after reading depressing news from the Daily Prophet. Another time, she cooed the term of endearment as he held her tightly in his arms, swaying to the sound of music in the background.

The thing was that Slytherin rarely said “I love you” in the entirety of their relationship. Instead of saying it back to her, he often replied by cupping her cheeks tenderly and leaning in for another kiss. Other times, he responded with a loving smile, his eyes glowing with warmth and infatuation.

It’s not that Hufflepuff thought Slytherin didn’t love her. She could definitely see it in the way that he looked at her, in those stolen glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. She could feel it when he held her close at night, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

However, a part of her- the small shadow of doubt within her heart that told her that Slytherin didn’t care for her as much as she did for him- just wished for some kind of affirmation, a clear signal that said, “I love you.”

One day, Hufflepuff and Slytherin sat side by side in Potions class, listening to Professor Slughorn drone on and on about Felix Felicis. She was absentmindedly staring at the board when Slytherin slid his notes in front of her so that she could see the doodle he drew on the side of his paper.

*Credit: Beastflaps*

Hufflepuff bit her lip to suppress a laugh and squeezed his hand 3 times.

Unfamiliar with the motion, Slytherin asked what the squeezes meant.

“It means I love you,” she whispered. Her voice was soft so that Professor Slughorn didn’t overhear their conversation.

Nevertheless, Slytherin heard every word. A smile tugged at his lips and he immediately squeezed it back. He didn’t just stop there; he repeated the gesture about 6 times- and Potions class hadn’t even ended yet.

From that day forward, Slytherin constantly told her I love you. Sometimes he squeezed her hand randomly- before he left for Quidditch practice, during breakfast when she passed him a plate of toast, and after he walked her back to the dormitory.

Aside from that, he would occasionally tap out the gesture with his finger.

Tap tap tap.

Hufflepuff looked up from her book and made eye contact with Slytherin from across the room. She knew what it meant. She always did.

Slytherin said I love you all the time now, more often than Hufflepuff’s verbal “I love you”.

She realized that he had a different love language from her, and that was ok. It was the love itself that mattered.

On their wedding day, as the officiant performed the ceremony, Hufflepuff looked up at Slytherin with adoration. “I love you,” she whispered.

He smiled warmly at her and squeezed her hand four times.

I love you too.

Based on a true story! If you can’t see the link that I attached, here it is:

https://www.reddit.com/r/Marriage/comments/ahb1c1/sometimes_i_forget_my_husband_has_a_different/

MASTERLIST ~(˘▾˘~) (click my profile to see the pinned post, aka my masterlist, if you cant see the link)

Author’s note: YAYAY HI!!! DID YOU LIKE THAT??

probably yall @ me rn lmaoaoao

You might be wondering why i wrote this one-shot. There was no special occasion this time, I just got a bonk of inspiration one day. also i felt bad for reblogging my ice skating oneshot so much (i did it to respond to other peoples reblogs) and i sent an ask to my favorite fanfic writer, asking her about what happens if i reblog my own work and if it pushes my fanfic up the algorithm, and she answered my question but also said that she usually deletes her reblogs bc her followers would probably get annoyed if they kept seeing the same work over and over again. i felt bad bc i had just done that, and i didnt want yall to constantly see the same fanfic all the time, so i wanted to give u something new. also i was thinking back on that person who said that my writing was sporadic (they werent trying to be mean). Sporadic basically means spaced out and occuring at different intervals. i felt bad bc my writing is definitely spread out by one month for some reason. im not sure what this means for next month bc i never write 2 fanfics in one month. does this mean that i wont write a fanfic for november? hopefully not. ok that sounds sad, im sure it doesnt but who knows bc the college process thingies is killing me

I wrote out the general details of the story at 1 am one night when i was trying to sleep lmaoao heres a screenshot:

This is basically how I write for most of my fanfics at first, it consists of the general info along with some specific details.

At first, the one-shot was gonna be a drabble (aka a story that’s only 100 words long) but when I finished writing it, I went to wordcounter to check the number of words and it was 500! i was like oop ok im just gonna call it a oneshot then. i wrote part of the story on sunday morning and then i went to exercise in the park with my sister. afterwards, i wanted to keep working on it but then i became swamped with college stuff so i stopped. i started writing again today (its monday, but im posting it on tuesday, aka today for you- or maybe not if ur not reading this on the day that i posted it) and i surprisingly finished- but that was probably a bad idea to be writing the oneshot during this week because i have a lot of exams, but lets look at the bright side, i finished the story!

I didn’t think of the idea completely on my own. I actually read the reddit story (found it in a thread on insta) a few years ago, and I don’t know why but I was thinking about it that night and I decided to make a one-shot out of it! Isn’t it such a sweet story (the actual story, not this)?? It would be kinda nice if I reached out to the person and said, hey i wrote a story based on you and ur husband!

Anyways, I just made a meme:

i didnt actually get up, i just opened the notes app on my phone in the dark and wrote the details down.

this isn’t related but i made a meme about the ice skating oneshot:

I’m gonna cut the authors note short (i usually write a lot. its funny when u go back and see my authors note in chapter 1 of the slytherpuff series, bc its so so short. wowza, times have rlly changed!) bc i think i have at least 2 exams tomorrow. this is gonna be me when i post this one-shot in the morning:

bc i have to wake up early and i am most definitely not a morning person:/ OH GOD OK I HAVE TO STUDY NOW-

Love you all, thank you for reading! TOODELOOOOOOO

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

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