#Also the admiral is there
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ghosty-bat-enthusiast · 1 year ago
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Jarchivist s3 design lol.
I’ve actually seen a lot of ppl drawing s3 Jon recently but oh well, I never claimed to be original. I really want to draw my takes on the whole archive crew + Georgie but my brain has been fixated on this guy for like a year now and it stops me from drawing literally anything else lmao (rip to my ocs, I miss them dearly).
[ID: A page of Magnus Archives fanart of Jon Sims, titled "Jarchivist S3" and appended with a doodle of a cat plus the caption "I headcanon him as being super normal about cats." Jon is a thin brown man with chin-length hair.
•The left shows a full-body of Jon, shown wearing a What the Ghost hoodie with a long red skirt and brown loafers labeled as "boring ppl shoes." The hoodie has an arrow pointing out the full design of the WTG hoodie, which features a cat ghost and is captioned "epic logo." Jon has bandages around his neck and right hand, and he's holding a tape recorder with a suspicious expression.
•The right shows a more cartoony full-body of him wearing a bright pink hoodie with purple cats along the bottom. His eyes are comically big and round, and he's labeled "About to meet unspeakable horrors" and "The narrative's favorite guy."
•The bottom left shows Jon from the chest-up, wearing a jack-o-lantern long-sleeved shirt and looking pensive as the Admiral sits on his arm. End ID]
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batcavescolony · 6 months ago
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Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.
#katniss everdeen#the hunger games trilogy#the hunger games#primrose everdeen#hunger games#batcavescolony reads the hunger games#suzanne collins#'now it seems i have become someone precious' NOW? GIRL BFFR you're their hunter girl#and this isn't negative just bffr girl#your WHOLE DISTRICT did the three finger salute that you yourself says means admiration thanks and goodbye to someone you love and on top is#old a rarely used. your WHOLE DISTRICT decided in that moment that they needed to bring back this sign of respect for YOU#...................................................................#idk why some people are thinking i mean this as negative i don't she is unreliable but its not intentional. like when Peeta heart stoped in#CF she doesn't know what Finnick is doing at first cus she doesn't know off the top of her head what cpr is. she also thinks Peeta after the#reaping is acting for the cameras. he isnt we dind out later his mom basically told him Katniss was gonna win and he would die. obviously#shes not doing it on purpose shes just for lack of better words uneducated? as in she doesn't know everything shes not omnipotent#so when Plutarch (? second games guy) shows her his mokingjay hiden watch shes like *wtf that's weird?* then the people traveling to#district 13 show her the mockingjay cookie and explains it and she then goes on the difference between his watch and their cookie#and why does eveyone act as if district 12 is as bad as the capital? they CANT help Katniss and Prim in the way you want. they cant give#them food. none of them have any! and im not putting iton Katniss but they hid they needed food so they could stay together. it sounds like#some of you are in this our world mentally of what people do after a loved one dies (brings food constantly checks on them etc) district 12#cant do that. they dont have food and they're all suffering. you cant give someone food when you have none to give. then theirs the fact#that peeta DID help. Peeta buring the bread and tossing some to her then taking a beating from his mom is a HUGE thing in the books.#he used his resources to help her like you all said someone should.#district 12 DID (rip) care about Katniss before the hunger games. why do you think she was allowed to hunt? or how her trades were good#these are the little ways 12 can shows Katniss they love her. but again Katniss doesn't see this and YES its because she had ptsd before the#hunger games as well. i swear some of you make it seem like d12 was all living a life of luxury and glaring down at Katniss.#other things that show Katniss is in hight standing with at least her people of d12 is her dad was known enough through d12 for peeta dad to#comment on his singing along with his commenting on her mom. also her mom is a healer in the community. yeah her parents arnt the top but#of d12 but they are/were definitely high staning in the Seam.
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novaneondream · 6 months ago
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it’s our turn to make you smile
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nekoyawn5 · 1 month ago
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Gargoyle study with Malleus~🐉
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passiunclepaltry · 9 months ago
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if there’s a georgie in this universe do you think……..
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ultramarinaa · 5 months ago
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John interacting with cats gives me life
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ciao2-bambi · 8 months ago
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Doodle of Jonathan Sims through Season 1-5!
Not the final version I think. But wanted to draw him throughout the season. Had a BLAST and EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER RIDE while listening. BUT I'M FINE.
Anyway, here's a wet cat of a man.
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haisfan · 2 months ago
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here isat doodle dump
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wasabi-gumdrop · 8 months ago
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Kabru has a secret admirer in the castle!
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wilkoakdraws · 1 year ago
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have at ya an unholy pile of wildly chaotic and VERY serious magnus stuff from last 6 months. happy 2024
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bungobble-my-balls · 4 months ago
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OK correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel like the main 'yin/yang' parallel with Atsushi and Akutagawa is not something like 'this one is bad but secretly has a good side and this one is good but secretly has a bad side'.
I feel like it's more about 'who they are at their core vs who they choose to be'.
At his core Akutagawa is kind and at his core Atsushi is not. But despite this Atsushi tries every day to make the kinder choices and I love him so much for it. He has to work so hard to be good.
He wants to be a bitch SO bad I know he does but he tries his best to help people and be nice (sometimes he fails but that's OK <3)
Atsushi doesn't always WANT to help people, a lot of the time he's selfish and scared, but he does help people anyway. He keeps helping people over and over again. There's still some selfish motivation to it, and his initial motivation for helping people was because the headmaster told him that's all he was worth, but overall he does care about the people he helps and it weighs on him if he fails to save them. And of course, as the series goes on he starts helping people more because he can rather than because he feels like he needs to.
In Akutagawa's case, he's still capable of being kind but his environment led him into being someone who chooses to hurt people. But he's always been a protector at heart. In the start he was bad compared to Atsushi because he was choosing to hurt people and keep the cycle of abuse going. Just like how Atsushi developed in why he saved people, Akutagawa starts to get redeemed when he chooses to not just act on his rage. Not only does he start to spare people, but he speaks more kindly to them (apologising to Higuchi and telling Kyouka he's proud of her). It all culminates into the moment he chooses to help Atsushi and sacrifice himself for him, going back to his core value of being a protector. Even when he's finally revived, he keeps this role in his new position as Aya's Knight.
I kind of see the streaks of white in Akutagawa and the streaks of black in Atsushi not as their 'hidden sides' but as their fundamental selfs. That's who they are at their core, and their main colours (black for Akutagawa and white for Atsushi) are how they're presented to everyone else and how they try to have people see them as.
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molynomials · 30 days ago
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i initally didnt like the arcane MH design but holy shit viktor looks ethereal here
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girlboyburger · 6 months ago
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your fursona is one of the cutest on the whole website
WRONG all fursonas on this website are cute and to prove it i impulsively drew a few that came to mind
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(tags under the readmore)
left to right, starting at the top row + goin across then down
@feybeasts (dragon) @kimskam (cow) @vonkarn (dragon) @punkitt-is-here (unicorn) @krisispiss (wolf) @wolfertinger666 (bunny) @soft--dogs (doggy) @skunkes (skunk) hi hello i hope it's alright i drew your sonas i adore all of y'alls work <3
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laddertek · 8 months ago
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Etho immediately choosing Decked Out 2 (+Tango's reaction) xBCrafted's Season 10 Episode 17 Hermit Q&A
xB: So, question number three. What has been your favourite project, build, and/or event since joining HermitCraft? Etho: That I did? Or that other people did? xB: Uh, just, whatever. Whatever you...y'know, your favourite. Just, whatever. Etho: Oh, that's gotta be Decked Out 2, then. xB: Okay. (laughs) Etho: (laughs) Easy answer! xB: I mean, you only played it a little, though... Etho: Ahh, it was a few months. A few months of my life, there. Got a little bit involved. xB: (laughs) A couple minutes, here and there, you know. Etho: Yeah. xB: I know how you are. No. (laughs) ---- xB: I feel like your answer is gonna be the same as Etho's. Tango: Oh, did he say Decked Out? xB: Yes he did. (laughs) Tango: Ohhhh, my hero! Yeah, Decked Out is definitely my answer. Slam dunk. xB: I was like, 'Yeah, what do you mean? You only played, like, a little bit...' (both laugh) Tango: Well, that -- Honestly, the fact that he said that, means -- means everything to me. That's great, that he values it that high. That's great. That's great. xB: Oh, yeah, yeah. He was like, he was like, 'That's easy. Decked Out 2.' I was like, 'Okay!' (laughs) Tango: (laughs) Fantastic. Good! Good!
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nyancrimew · 3 months ago
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wes anderson movies are what would happen if you gave a child 100 million dollars to play with their touys
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 months ago
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 1
Or: a secret Admirer AU
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Less than a month into the school year, and Steve’s already making use of the library. If Mrs. Click could see him now, she’d be proud–until she caught sight of the blank notebook page in front of him and the lack of textbooks on the table. 
He feels stupid; he’s hunched over his notebook, trying to make his thoughts transfer onto the page in any coherent form. But, he’s not like Eddie with his impassioned speeches and clever English papers.
Words flow through Eddie in fully-formed, concrete ideas. For Steve, it’s more of a drip. Each word has to be scaffolded onto the previous one with blood, sweat, and tears. Even then, it’s never quite right. Too abrupt, never what he was actually trying to say.
He’s just never been good with words.
By the time he gives up, there’s more crossed out than left written, so he gets a clean page of paper and transcribes it as best he can. He’s left with:
       Your hair is pretty. Do you use conditioner?
Steve tears it from his notebook and lays it flat atop his table in the library, smoothing out any crinkles in the page. It feels like the start to something, sure, but there’s more blank space on the page than words. By a lot.
He leans back over his work, adds a little wonky heart in his blue pen and signs the whole thing—
       ❤ your secret admirer
—the way all the girls who leave notes in his locker do. Their notes are usually on pretty paper, written in sparkly gel pen that smells like strawberries. The i’s are sometimes dotted with little hearts he’ll never admit to finding cute. And there’s envelopes involved, and usually more than eleven measly words.
His looks like something Eddie’ll toss out before opening, mistaking it for trash.
Steve grimaces. How do girls do this? Do they all take some sort of class on how to write pretty letters on pretty enough paper that boys will fall in love with them? Is that what they teach in Home Ec? He should have never let Tommy mock him into switching to shop class.
Should he ask a girl?
Under no conditions will he ever ask Carol. She’d have far too many uncomfortable questions and tell the whole school all of his embarrassing answers. He’d be run out of town within days, Carol holding the sharpest pitchfork.
Steve leans back in his chair with a groan too loud for the library and fists his hands to rub tired eyes.
“Are you okay?” Steve jerks, sending his pen and paper careening to the ground in his attempt to cover the compromising words upon the page. “Oh, sorry!”
Steve watches, horrified, as Chrissy Cunningham bends down to pick his supplies up off the carpet before he’s had time to scramble out of his chair. She’s in her cheer uniform, white zip-up Hawkins hoodie covering her arms. She looks perfect and preppy and just like all the girls who’ve ever left a note in his locker.
She’d be able to write something that Eddie would want to read.
“Steve?” Chrissy’s hovering over him, lips pursed, eyes big and worried. “Are you okay?”
“Shit, sorry,” he replies. She’s got his note clutched to her chest. He curls his fingers against the urge to reach out for it—that’ll just draw her attention, and that’s the last thing Steve wants right now. “Just got lost in my head.”
“Anything I can help with?”
He knows what she’s going to do before it happens. Chrissy’s sweet—if there’s a way to help, she’ll want to. So, she holds out the paper and begins to read, probably expecting an assignment she can tutor him on, and there they are: Steve’s damning words written in still-wet blue ink.
Her brow furrows as she takes an obscene amount of time mouthing out the words before she looks back up to meet his eyes. “Did someone give this to you?”
Her eyes are still big, but they look sad now, like just the thought of someone receiving the note he’d slaved over is enough to distress her. Unable to help himself, Steve snatches it from her hands and crumples it into a ball, damning words hidden in his fist.
Chrissy gasps at his abrupt movement and takes a halting step away.
“I wrote it,” he mutters, no longer able to meet her eyes.
She’s silent for long enough that he’d think she left, except the library’s quiet, and he hasn’t heard her take a step. He stares at the grains of the wood in the table, empty hand rubbing against the smudged top as he waits for her to do something.
“Are you…” she starts, trailing off for a moment before picking her thought back up, “…picking on someone?”
Steve clenches his fist tighter, note crinkling beyond repair beneath his nails as he mutters, “no.”
Chrissy’s quiet again. Steve doesn’t dare to look up, even as he hears the chair across from him pull out, the sound of her weight settling into the wood. The table’s just so interesting. Nothing has ever been as intriguing as the little chip out of its edge, the ring on the wood where someone had let their drink condensate against all the library’s rules.
“Who’s this for?” Chrissy’s voice is soft now, like he’s some sort of horse, prone to bolting when spooked. “Steve?”
Steve looks up. Her eyes aren’t sad anymore; they’re piercing.
He’s always liked Chrissy. She’s the nicest girl in the school, until someone does something she doesn’t like. Then, it’s all disappointed eyes, and pouty lips. It’s like disappointing his Mom, but worse, because his Mom’s never around to stare balefully at him.
The point is, Chrissy’s nice. She’s not like Carol. If he told her, there would be no lynch mob, or fleeing Hawkins in the dead of the night with nothing but the clothes on his back. Probably. Maybe.
Steve tries to smooth out the page, and scowls down at it when the wrinkles refuse to disappear. It’s even worse now, words made illegible by the deep creases his fingers have pressed into the paper. There’s no way Eddie’d ever want a note like this.
So, he says, “Munson,” looking up to try to watch his meaning land on her face.
It doesn’t. Her foreheads all scrunched up as she looks down at the note. Only then does Steve realize he’s caressing the wonky little heart. He pulls his hand back, curling his fingers in so she can’t see the smudge of blue on his pointer finger.
“And you aren’t making fun of him?”
Steve can feel his shoulders drooping. He wants to disappear into the floor, melt into the carpet and become one with all the other mysterious stains upon it. “No.”
“Oh,” Chrissy replies, drawn out and low as she peers down at the crinkled note with a confused frown. But something must click because she straightens, eyes wide beneath her bangs. “Oh!”
It’s loud enough that they both reflexively flinch. But, when no librarians come skulking around any corners, Chrissy turns back to him, gaze uncomfortably intent. Steve wonders, somewhat horrified by the turn his life has taken, if he’s about to get hate-crimed by a cheerleader half his size.
But Chrissy’s nice—always has been, always will be. So, she bites her lip and looks furtively around like she’s only just realized this is a conversation that shouldn’t have any witnesses. “But you like him?” she whispers.
Steve leans forward, matching her energy and pitch as he replies, “yeah,” quiet enough that it’s barely a breath. Chrissy smiles at him, warm and small, just like her hand as she reaches across the table to put it over his and squeeze comfortingly.
The note sits, damningly soiled beneath their linked hands, wrinkled, and smudged, and barely-legible handwriting. The weight that’d lifted with Chrissy’s smile sinks back into his gut.
“But it doesn’t matter,” Steve says, letting go of her hand so he can pull the note closer to himself. “I’m no good at this stuff.”
Steve crinkles the note back up. It’s unsalvageable—a stupid idea executed badly.
He’s in the middle of stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans to keep his keys company until he can toss it out in the comfort of his home when Chrissy says, “maybe I can help?” voice lilting up, like it’s a question.
Steve meets her eyes, hand still half-shoved in his pocket. She’s all earnest now, the way she usually is when there isn’t a sad boy infecting her with his own ineptitude. Eyes shining with conviction, bangs curling sweetly around her face. She’s no Carol, that’s for sure.
“How?” he asks, and when she smiles, it looks a bit like hope.
***
 “I can help you write a better letter,” Chrissy starts. He perks up like a dog the moment its owner gets home. “If you do something for me.”
She feels like scum when he curls back into himself, gaze forlorn.
When she’d caught sight of the note he’d spent what seemed like a full hour pouring over, this isn’t what she’d been expecting. And when she’d finally made out his chicken scratch scrawl, she’d been sure Steve was picking on someone, no matter how unlike him it would have been. But then his shoulders had curled in, and his ears had turned red, and his voice had gone all soft and squishy when he’d said Eddie Munson’s name.
And she’d just wanted to fix it.
So, even as he asks, “what?” all sad and droopy again, she knows she’s going to help him, no matter what he says.
“Date me,” she asserts. It’s only as Steve blinks stupidly at her that she realizes how that came out of her mouth. “No, wait, not really!”
Her hands are waving around wildly and she can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. In contrast, Steve seems to come back into himself, shoulders shoring up as he smirks across at her with his signature raised brow. The one he’d used while leaning on Nancy Wheeler’s locker last year, or holding her books as they walked to class, and all the other assortment of stereotypical boyfriend activities.
He’d worn it all the time, like it was part of the uniform. 
“I just meant, we could fake it?” His right eyebrow raises to meet his left, forehead scrunching up with his incredulity. “It’s just, Jason and I broke up? And he won’t leave me alone.”
It takes all her strength to keep meeting his eyes as the seconds tick away. But then Steve nods, swings his letterman jacket off, and tosses it across at her. Unprepared for his sudden movement, it hits her in the face and drops into her lap.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he says with a cheesy wink that somehow manages to feel more genuine than any of his actual flirting techniques. “Gotta sell it somehow.”
“What a romantic,” she replies, deadpan, but she pulls his jacket on anyway, something that feels an awful lot like relief steadying her heart rate as she smooths down the too-long sleeves.
Jason’s going to freak out. But after that, maybe he’ll stop calling her house, and trying to put his arm around her at lunch, and trying to pick her up for school every morning. She’d do almost anything to get it into his thick skull that she’s not interested.
So, here she is, hashing out the details of a secret admirer letter from Steve Harrington to Eddie Munson, of all the unlikely pairings.
“What’s wrong with what I wrote?” Steve whines, running his fingers through his hair until it’s all mussed up and falling into his face.
Chrissy snorts. “It sounds like you’re telling him his hair is frizzy and dry.”
“I said it was pretty!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them and pouting his lower lip out.
Chrissy can’t help but laugh. She’s always liked Steve. He’s nicer than most of his friends, and he’s easy to talk to. But this is a side she’s never seen of him. She’s not sure anyone has; can’t imagine Carol or Tommy seeing him put his whole heart into something and not tearing it to shreds.
“Do you use conditioner?” she asks, throwing finger quotations around it as she reads it off the crumpled page.
Steve’s blushing again, cheeks all blotchy and red, rather unbecoming for the shoo-in for this year’s prom king. “Well, I thought you said you’d help!” he says, a little too loud for the library.
So, that’s how she ends up spending the next hour painfully turning Steve’s earnest thoughts into words on the pretty baby blue paper she’d carefully removed from the back of her daily planner.
In the end, they’re left with this:
       Eddie –
       I wish I could say this to your face, but I’ve never been good with words, and you’d probably think it was a joke.
       I can’t even get myself to talk to you, you’re so distracting.
       I like how pretty your hair is. How do you get your curls so shiny? I want to run my fingers through them.
       I hope this note brightens up your day. You deserve all the smiles you can get.
       Yours,
       Your Secret Admirer
It’s not what she would write, but still, it’s leagues better than what he’d started with. She slides it across to Steve, and he smiles down at it. He reaches his hand out, fingers almost brushing the page before he pulls his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.
“What if someone sees me?” he asks, voice so quiet she can barely hear him even in the resounding silence of the library.
They’d managed not to talk about it, the dangers of Steve liking a boy. But it’d been present in the hesitancy by which he shared each of his thoughts, looking up at her like each remark would be the last straw before she recoils in disgust.
If someone finds out that Steve has a crush on a boy, it won’t take long until he’s getting beat up between classes or heckled straight out of school. Heck, even with all the rumors floating around about him, Eddie might be the one to throw the first punch.
“Do you want me to deliver it for you?” she asks.
“You’d do that?” he asks back, because apparently no one ever taught him not to answer a question with a question. “For me?”
“What else are fake girlfriends for?” she asks because they’re all questions now, no answers to be had between the pair of them.
Steve laughs, all tension leaving his shoulders as he throws his head back with amusement, eyes downright twinkling as he beams across at her.
“You’re the best, Chrissy,” Steve says, smiling even brighter as she replies, “I know.”
She leaves school that night after pushing Steve Harrington’s love note through the slats of Eddie’s locker, Steve’s letterman jacket keeping her warm from the cold.
This might be the best relationship she’s ever had, fake or not. Eat your heart out, Jason Carver.
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PART 2
Welcome to my new AU! This will be posted in 21 parts. It is complete, so there will be a new update each morning until it's all posted. I've elected not to do a tag list, but it will be added to my pinned post each day as well. If that's not your speed, it will be added to Ao3 once it's all been posted here.
Special shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for not only their usual fabulous beta work, but also both the original idea and the writing of some of the secret admirer letters. You not only make me a better writer, but this work literally would not exist without you. <3<3
Title of the fic from the song Eyes in the Sun by Florist
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