#Ditty!Crane

[finzphoenix]

Another early Christmas gift, this time for @acapelladitty! ;**🖤🤍🖤

At first I just wanted to draw him on a walk through Gotham's winterscape, but then I thought...what if WDO Crane with crows? Admittedly, it looked cooler in my head...nghhh >w<

[themcriddler]

This tracks actually. All the girlies (incl) with the fan messages on their eyelids while he tries to teach a subject only he is truly interested in. Everyone (including him) knows this is not his natural environment. Waiting to see if he does anything handsome (terrifying).

Concept: Crane wearing that outfit that Indiana Jones wears when he's teaching

[spookyvalentine]

In my feelins about Lascaux’s chevalier days/life before the Grey Wardens

So I wrote a lil scene

Lascaux wakes up smiling.

Already, it’s a perfect day.

The sun paints soft yellow rays across their bed, and gauzy curtains sway with a gentle breeze perfumed by sweet hay and fresh grass—and if Lascaux tilts their head just right, they can see the sky is a glowing cornflower blue.

Their son, Adi—perfect, beautiful, wonderful little Adi—is sprawled across Lascaux’s chest. He makes a soft, snuffling noise as he breathes and settles deeper into sleep.

Oh, Seigneur! Lascaux’s heart swells at the sight. Il est trop mignon, mon fils parfait, Lascaux happily muses as they gently sweep the curly brown ringlets away from Adi’s face, and smiles yet even more at the sight of their son’s pudgy cheek smooshed against their chest.

And Amicia—perfect, beautiful, glorious Amicia—curls into Lascaux’s right side, a leg thrown over their hip and a delicate hand resting on their son’s back. Her head is tucked perfectly against Lascaux’s throat, where her warm breath tickles pleasantly over their skin.

Lascaux’s hand sweeps down Amicia’s arm—a giddy little ditty of ma femme, ma femme! bounces behind their teeth every time Lascaux touches her—and splays at the small of her back, holding her close. They press a kiss to the top of her head.

Their heart is so full it hurts. Lascaux is smiling so widely they almost laugh—but maintenant, c'est necessaire to contain such mirth, parce que the two people Lascaux loves most in this world are sleeping in their arms.

The soft lowing of livestock out in fields means that they should all be getting up soon, but Lascaux cannot bear for this moment to end. They press un bisous, deux, trois!—to both Adi and Amicia’s foreheads.

They settle back into the pillows and the warmth of their family. Lascaux reaches for their wife’s hand resting on Adi, and laces their fingers together.

Ma vie est plus belle. Life is perfect.

Lascaux smiles up at the ceiling, listens to the sweet song of the birds outside and the soft breaths of Amicia and Adi, and, deeply content, is about to drift off again…

Et puis—

And then—

There is a loud creak from the settee in the corner. Lascaux cracks open an eye, cranes their neck to see over Adi and—

“Putain de merde, Chauvet,” they say, taking care for their sleeping family but deeply startled and increasingly upset to see their brother sitting in their bedroom.

“Le Grand Tournoi commence demain,” Chauvet says, “Lève-toi.”

Lascaux does not like how comfortable Chauvet looks. There is a mostly-empty glass du vin on the side table, and a bottle on the floor.

“Depuis combien du temps es-tu ici,” Lascaux hisses while trying to figure out how to get out of bed and maybe punch Chauvet without bothering Amicia and Adi, because what is he doing here, in the corner like that as they sleep?

Chauvet rises from the settee, and his expression is dark behind the eyes in a way Lascaux has never seen before.

“Get up, Champion,” their brother says, and his smile is bright and his eyes are clear—the change of demeanor so rapid, perhaps it was only the last of sleep clouding Lascaux’s vision— “You have history to make this week!”

Chauvet leaves with a skip in his step, and closes the door behind him softly.

And Lascaux looks at the glass of wine, and doesn’t understand why hot, greasy dread pools so heavily in their stomach.

[nutzgunray-lvt]

Here's another little ditty inspired by various prompts by @dumplingsjinson and @urfriendlywriter, with a small shout-out to @godzillakyru and their fic Imprinting.

Again, characterization was a bit hard to nail down, but part of me wanted Serizawa being a horny man for Vivienne, so 🤷

Even though Vivienne had known Ishiro for years, it never got old seeing just how alive he became around the ocean.

She supposed it made sense, given how he had been raised on the coast, but seeing her normally stoic partner’s eyes always light up in wonder at the rolling waves brought her an indescribable joy that made her feel fuzzy inside.

It was why some of her favorite dates with him were either at the beach of whatever country they were in at the moment or simply above sea level at Castle Bravo. They were never any grand affairs, but Vivienne never needed any grand affairs. Hearing him tell stories about his childhood in Hiroshima or simply staring out into the sea with him left her feeling giddy and fulfilled, and she knew that he felt the same way.

However, a part of her not so secretly loved how bold Ishiro became around the ocean.

Even before the two officially began seeing each other, Ishiro was always quite affectionate with her in subtle ways - whether it was making sure she had a jacket on a cold day or a warm drink when working into the night. When in private, he was more demonstrable, but more often than not, it was Vivienne initiating things between them. That worked out fine for the both of them, but things changed whenever they were near the ocean.

It all started that one evening in the Pacific, when he tentatively reached for her hand as they watched the sunset. Then, on Isla de Mara when they were taking a break from analyzing skin samples from Rodan, he brushed her bangs out of her face while taking a walk along the shoreline. And most fittingly, it was on a cold and windy night at Grumari Beach in Brazil that Ishiro had almost nervously pressed his lips to hers before taking her into his arms and kissing her like they were in a 1940’s movie when she reciprocated his actions. 

~ ~ ~

“You’re making this difficult for me, Vivienne,” he had said through ragged breaths as he pressed his forehead to hers. Though they were as closely against each other as they could be, they were shivering from the wind chill, which only served to intensify the moment.

“Making what difficult?” she asked, genuine confusion in her voice as she held his face in her hands, his stubble prickly against her palms. Even up on her tiptoes, she was still craning her neck to look up at him.

“I was planning on bidding you good night like a gentleman. You’re making me want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you to my bedroom,” he answered with a firmness that had Vivienne’s head practically swimming as their lips crashed back together.

~ ~ ~

The memory had Vivienne blushing as she stared out at the foggy Atlantic Ocean. She was above sea level at Castle Bravo, having woken up early to get a head start on some of her work and gotten ahead enough to allow for a quick break. The salty air was quite pleasant, as was the sound of the waves crashing around her, and it made it easy for her to see why Ishiro loved it so much.

And speaking of Ishiro, she heard him before she saw him, felt his arms around her waist and lips on her neck as she was pulled back against him. His rare overt forwardness had her smiling as she craned her head up to look at him. Already, he was looking younger and more relaxed, and it was leaving Vivienne feeling rather relaxed as well.

“When did you wake up?” she asked, reaching down to cover his hands with hers.

“About a half hour ago,” he answered, his gaze locked onto the horizon. “I saw that your computer was turned on, but I couldn’t find you.”

Vivienne shrugged.

“I wanted to get some fresh air before getting back to work,” she responded. “I also wanted to have some time to myself before everyone else arrives today.”

She felt Ishiro chuckle in agreement, the vibrations in his chest feeling pleasant against her ear. Though they both were happy with the ragtag team of scientists they’d been working with for years on end, having Castle Bravo at full operation made finding alone time quite the gargantuan task. There was always someone wanting to drag them into some sort of experiment or research session and while it was incredibly fulfilling work, it could be socially draining at times… except for when it was just her and Ishiro.

“You’re in luck. Stanton won’t arrive until evening, and Coleman and the Chen twins will be here tomorrow afternoon,” Ishiro said, his hand tipping Vivienne’s chin up so that she was meeting his gaze. “That leaves us with some time for the two of us.”

The insinuation was obvious enough to leave Vivienne biting her lip in apprehension, and as soon as she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, their lips met in a heated kiss. As her hands fisted into his hair, she excitedly moaned as he nibbled her lower lip, his tongue sliding against hers as he clung tightly to her, almost as though he were afraid to let go of her. It reminded her enough of that night in Brazil that she found herself rubbing her thighs together to stave off her arousal. 

The two broke apart a moment later for some much needed air, gripping onto each other as though the other would vanish into thin air if they let go. 

“We should go somewhere more private,” Ishiro finally panted out, his eyes closed as he cupped her face in his hands. 

Vivienne nodded in agreement. Horny couple or not, they were both professionals, and decorum had to be upheld no matter what. But once the two of them made it back down to sea level and into the privacy of Ishiro’s bedroom, decorum flew out the window as she was gently pushed back onto his bed, their lips crashing together as he straddled her waist and slid his hands up her shirt. Part of her was admittedly hoping he’d throw her over his shoulder again, but this was nice, too.

“Tell me if it becomes too much, Vivienne,” he said in between kisses, intently looking into her eyes. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Holding herself still, Vivienne nodded and whispered, “Okay. Okay, Sensei.”

Ishiro smiled, once again looking like the younger man he was around the ocean as he buried his face in Vivienne’s neck, sending her into a panting, whimpering mess as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

[melodyofthevoid]

Spotify Discovery 10/2

Lot of ukulele tracks in this one, and it’s a mixed bag. I cannot explain for the life of me what makes a ukelele song sound not bad to me but when I crack that code you’ll know.

Generally good though! The bad tracks though I hated more than last time. Also sorry for the delay I had work and a litany of other things (other writing projects) that distracted me lmao.

Good:

Playing on Train Tracks: Very Mountain Goats in its execution, note that it does cover self-destructive behaviors so be wary but the honesty here is captured so well. I love the use of language and metaphor, cutting live wires, standing on the cliff but never jumping, standing on the train tracks, it hits. The simple instrumentals isn’t overly “stripped down” it fits the subject. Good stuff.

What We Have is You: A song from Kipo, a nice little lullaby. Don’t remember what the context of this bit was in the show but I really liked it. Sterling K Brown has a nice voice.

The Dragon of Climate Change: Not one I’ll listen to frequently but I did enjoy the jaunty folk feel combined with the “fuck the rich” vibes. Calling out carbon credits was a good bit. Very bard core.

Lover (take me to the moon): Gives me confused person in love and I think it works. I wish I could really say what makes these sorts of songs click with me vs brush them off as kinda overdone but I’m afraid it’s a mystery to me as well.

Ghost Choir Vocals: Gives the iconic Ghost Choir lyrics in the style of “Mr.Sandman” and the singer is absolutely lovely. Fun and short, always a treat to hear the ghost choir in general and Louie’s instrumentals lend to the singer’s voice.

Davy Jones: I’ve listened to this cover a shit ton on Youtube and still love the vocals. The Davy Jones/Calypso storyline is a fav and there’s just. Mwah. Chef’s kiss vibes. Not much to say here other than absolute banger. (For an improved experience look up the duet version).

Suffering: A dance to agony, it works in a way of celebrating despite it all. The singer is lovely, the guitar is jaunty, and the rhythm is fast and fun. I like it! Gives me Crane Wives vibes and that’s always a plus for me.

Medusa in a Stone Garden: There’s an interesting energy around this one kinda folk rock? I like the Medusa energy, the repetition can wear on at times but other than that? Excellent.

The Water is Fine: Gives me Mariza/Delta vibes, there’s nice overlap on the vocals, there’s energy here too that is fun. A bit Oh Hellos, a bit Amazing Devil.

Anywhere But Here: A lovely little music box style waltz, very romantic. Melancholic too, and just the sort of thing I like to wind down to.

Duet in Death: Another classical piece, I’m sure if I knew more about the webtoon Nevermore I’d have more of an affinity? But a duet between a piano and a violin is one I’m always a sucker for. I adore violins when they’re done well and this one is spectacular.

Devil’s Flesh & Bones: Another WTNV alumni! Eliza Rickman is neat, she’s got a very distinct voice, kinda Cabaret and kinda jazz. This one all works for me.

Neutral:

Rises the moon: The vocal performance of this cover is… a little shaky at times? But I like the song and I think that it’s alright.

Tough to be a Bug: A twee little ukulele ditty, it’s cute but not really one that I’ll listen to. A bit too soft for me ig.

Bird Song: Not the Florence and the Machine song, but a different one. I enjoyed the folk vibes but the chorus has this kinda tropical electronica and that’s just not my vibe? The song has a general montage feel which works for what it is but a meh experience overall.

A Shitty Gay Song About You: The guitar plus the twinkly xylophone and the monotone vocals aren’t… really my vibe. The lyrics are kinda neat, but it’s not for me. I could see someone making a cute animatic to it though.

I think I want to be alone: Relatable but the style is a little too TikTok for me with the playful vibes combined with the depressing lyrics? Doesn’t scratch an itch for me.

Nah

Katarina Josephina: I’m not really sure what to make of this one. It’s got the trappings of a folk story song but it’s got a strange energy to it. Not certain what to say doesn’t work for me, but the trap break definitely does not.

The Spider’s Face: I like the song Nothing from this musical but goddamn this one is too “playful sing song evil” for me. The plucking strings and the vocals… it does not do it for me. Very unpleasant to listen to.

Aisling Song: I do not enjoy listening to children sing. This is a child singing in a very ~dreamlike~ way. I’m sure this works in the movie “Secret of Kells” but without the visuals I would really rather not listen.

PATROCLUS MEETS HIS FATE: I love orchestral stuff, I love video game music, but the artificial strings really take away any of the grandiosity for me. It’s very canned and I’m not a fan.

Typical Me: DSMP song and not a good one. I don’t like the vocals or the lyrics. Very monotone and unpleasant.

Give a Little: The saxophone and vintage swing feel are neat but I reaaaaally don’t like the vocals. They ruin it for me. Sorry CG5 but really not doing it for me.

64 Little White Things: This is Scary Jokes with the vocal style and again. Not a fan of that. There’s something about the vocals that just sets my teeth on edge, the sing/talking style with the modulation and the carnival music… no. Can’t do it.

[enigmamuse]

hey hey read this and look at my collab art at the same time 🧡💚 Lots of love Ditty♡

Anamnesis (fic)

Pairing: Edward Nygma/Jonathan Crane

Summary - Trapped in an abandoned house with his partner, Edward is quick to find out that not everything is truly as it seems.

This fic is part of a stunning collab with the wonderful and thrilling artistic talents of both @enigmamuse and @plushievash as part of a fun Halloween exchange. Their amazing artwork can be found using this link 🎃

The scent of damp tickled Edward’s nose as he sought refuge in the smallest of the upstairs bedrooms, one which neither he nor Jonathan seen fit to visit before due to the scale of the weathered damage in the old walls. Having stepped into the bedroom, the ghostly sheets which covered every inch of the meagre possessions drew a sharp shudder from Edward’s lips as his left palm pressed into his right shoulder harshly.

“Does it hurt?” Jonathan asked. Pulling his mask free of his face and tucking it below his armpit, Jonathan dipped his head slightly to investigate the source of Edward’s wound. The metal had torn through the suit like butter, leaving a messy hole in its wake.

Edward pulled his palm away, the skin disturbingly wet and coated with crimson. “Yeah, but it’s not too deep. A few inches possibly but I still have full mobility. I’m more concerned by the rust that coated it and what, exactly, knocked me onto it.”

“You should be thankful,” Jonathan muttered as he stood with a collected calmness which made Edward’s panicked state even more clear, “that it was only the shoulder which you clipped. Had you fallen more awkwardly, we would not be having this conversation. A fall can be a terrible thing.”

Remaining stubbornly silent as the fear which simmered in his chest recalled the unnatural strength of the shove which had sent him sprawling to the floor, the only noise to escape Edward’s lips was a pained grunt as Jonathan tore free a length of his shirt used the length of fabric to wrap his shoulder as best he could. His hands were firm and clinical, taking care not to aggravate the wound while also sparing very little care to ensure that he avoided the worst of the pain.

It was a touch Edward was familiar with, very similar to the type of affection which Jonathan often deigned to give him, and Edward felt oddly dizzy as he pressed the back of his head against the wall.

“Do we have a plan for escape?” Edward asked.

“The doors and windows are all rotted, incapable of being opened without a key. You may have to search for something heavy to smash through one of the weaker doors.”

Having sought refuge in an old farmhouse after a plan gone horrendously wrong, the pair had passed out on the moth-eaten furniture which sat in the living room. Awaking in the dead of night, Edward had been the first to notice the changes to the house – panic making his voice loud enough to draw Jonathan from his restless sleep.

An agreement to split and search every inch of the house had started out well, but things were brought to a screeching halt when something attacked Edward in the living room, pushing him to the floor and causing a discarded metal frame to pierce the front of his shoulder. His yell had echoed throughout the house and Jonathan had appeared immediately to investigate.

“Smash through?” Edward scoffed. “With my shoulder in tatters and your meagre strength? We might as well take two of the kitchen knives and end it all now. Would be preferable to being attacked by that thing again.”

Thing.

Edward himself wasn’t even sure what it had been.

“Are you worried something terrible will befall you, Edward? Some terrible accident? Something to splatter those vast brains across the floor?” Jonathan’s lips settled into a fine line, his tone playful in a way which made Edward’s spine stiffen. It passed quickly though, as Jonathan was quick to gain his composure. “But now is not the time for petty squabbling, Edward. All debts are paid in the end.”

The words were simple yet something in them chilled Edward’s blood and he narrowed his eyes at Jonathan – who only watched him back with a blank expression.

A crash, the cadence like something dense being knocked to the floor and shattering into parts, made Edward startle in place as he pressed against the wall of the small bedroom - the noise sounding as though it came from the attic, high above.

“Do you think we’re alone here?” Edward whispered, using a great amount of control to keep his voice even and without tremble.

“No.” Jonathan answered. “Something is coming, and you will need to face it at some point, I fear.”

Edward paused, anxiety striking at his chest like a glancing blow. “You?”

“We.” Jonathan corrected with a mirthless smile, one which exposed the slightest hint of teeth. “It was my mistake.”

“Then we should check the next bedroom.” Edward insisted, ignoring the tickle of guilt which snared itself around his neck. An odd feeling which made his footing feel light as he shifted forward. “There is nothing here we can use to so much as create a dent in the walls.”

Baring his teeth, Edward opened the bedroom door slowly to prevent the creak of the rusted hinges. The floor beneath their feet was old and in the early stages of rotting; every floorboard feeling less stable than the last as he crept to the nearby room with all the tension of a church mouse who sought to escape a particularly furious cat.

In the corner of the hallway lay a spider web and Edward watched with bright eyes as the sizeable creature skittered across the wall to safety – all the while seeming to watch the pair with unseen eyes. Opening his mouth to comment on it, Edward’s words caught in his throat as a harsh thump sounded out from the space behind his back.

Whirling in place, Edward turned to see an empty hallway.

A look of uncertainty flittered through Edward’s panicked expression – his boyish features twisted into something that did not sit well on his face – as he paused long enough to stare between Jonathan’s vacated space and the stiff door of the next bedroom.

The darkness of the hallway took Edward’s breath away as his eyes widened in the gloom, determined to seek out anything which he could focus on as his panicked fingers scraped at the wall space beside the door – desperately attempting to locate the light switch.

Finding none, he instead focused on the flashlight in his hand; breathing a sigh of relief as the light flickered to life, a single beam of light offering some scant illumination to the decaying space.

Heart thudding in his chest, Edward watched with horrified eyes as the flashlight in his hand stuttered after a moment and went out. His throat tight, he shook the plastic hard and almost sobbed out his relief when it shot back to life. However, his peace was short lived as a sharp crack of screaming floorboard sounded in the darkness of the corridor behind him and he whirled around in an instant.

Edward, his hand as heavy as steel and yet unable to stop shaking, brought the flashlight up to the gloom and the frantic rhythm of his pulse stopped for a moment as the light illuminated the deep void of blackened eyes to reveal the beast which had attacked him earlier and continued to stalk him through the old house.

The tendrils of fear which crept around his heart chilled him from the inside out as wide eyes watched the beast approach.

Its face was inhumane, bearing a terrible hint of familiarity within the look of pure hunger which radiated from its dark eye - the black void of iris only punctuated by a slight orange tinge where the dim light caught it. The other eye was missing, replaced by a ragged hole. Skin, translucent and grotesque, sat around it and it lay over flesh so pitted that certain areas appeared littered with holes, giving a peek of the raw, pulsing flesh below.

A mockery of hair sat atop the beast’s skull. The straw-like material thin and a shade of deep brown which made something within Edward's stomach turn as he gazed at it.

It almost looked the same shade as-

No.

It was impossible.

Denial stabbed at Edward’s heart, but his gaze could only remain frozen on the ragged hair for so long as the humanoid beast opened its maw to expose what lay beneath.

A single row of sharp teeth, like a collection of short swords, jutted free of the creatures’ gums and their off-white colour was contrasted by the vivid red which stained the tapered end of each tooth – the evidence of a recent violence which made Edward’s stomach lurch. Just above, a hole sat where the nose should have been and only the slightest hint of cartilage remained.

Its movements were a twisted mess. The heft of the creature moving jerkily; almost like a human dangled on the end of a marionettes string as each limb appeared to fall limp in the moments where it was not required for immediate use as its extremities crawled along the floor.

Something in the uncanny flexibility made Edward's stomach turn and bile rise at the base of his throat. It was a living corpse - puppeteered by a darkness which made the air dank and stale, every breath making his lungs recoil. It pulled itself along the floor, shambling without thought as each limb moved of its own accord towards its prey.

Jonathan's movements had always been jerky and unpredictable. A talent which accented his thin frame and kept his victims in a decent state of anxiety as he used his uncanny frame to his advantage.

But this.

This was a mockery - something profane - and every nerve in Edward's body screamed just how wrong it all was.

"Edward."

A single word and yet the terror which shot through Edward's chest was almost enough to pause his heart. The voice did not seem to come from the lips of the creature, but rather from within in; somewhere deep inside its rotten chest where no air could naturally flow.

His eyes dragging themselves up from the stomach, Edward gripped the flashlight so tightly that the faintest crack of the plastic trembled through his fingers.

“Jo-Johnathan?”

Holding his attention, the skin of the Jonathan-shaped creature seemed to shift and roll, eventually splitting open at the scalp to reveal a dark cavern where the skull should reside. Cracked open and revealed, the revulsion in Edward's stomach reached a new peak as the scent of blood pressed at his nostrils.

“You did this.” The beast accused, continuing its painfully slow movement through the corridor. “You did this to me.”

“What?” Unable to stop the tremble of his hand, Edward watched the beam of light shiver against the rotted skin.

“You left me. Like this.” The beast tilted its head, showcasing the tear in its skull with a grim determination. “You saw me fall…heard me scream…and left. Ran…coward. You ran here…to hide.”

Every short, broken sentence was a death rattle; the words grotesque but alluring in a way which Jonathan was very skilled at. A spider attempting to lure in a very sophisticated fly.

The echoes of a scream, something filled with genuine terror, ripped through Edward’s mind. A scream of surprise. A sharp crack of metal. A horrified yell ended by a definitive thump which Edward had not investigated.

A sound of a plan gone horribly wrong.

A sound of a lover, lost to the smashed skull from which his life cracked free.

The stench of death - reeking from the breath of the beast - washed over his face and, unable to stop the fuzziness which pressed at his senses, Edward felt his knees give way as his vision dimmed and his mind rejected the fragmented memories and collapsed into blissful unconsciousness.

[hermannco]

Fuck, Marry, Kill: Crane, Constantine, Corinthian.

DITTY ARE YOU OKAY???

Fuck: Constantine (He has fucked enough to know how to fuck at least decently)

Marry: Corinthian (The time that he was human he was a very loving and caring partner like thats a no brainer)

Kill: Crane (DUH)

[nvrlernd2-reid]

@itshighjuniper tagged me to post 5 songs i'm listening to a lot lately so here! i've been on a podcast bent (happy sangfielle summer!!) so it's not anything exciting but

take me to war by the crane wives- i desperately want to do this for an open mic but half of the fun is the teeth-bared smile delivery of the lyrics vs the kind of playful skipping instrumental and i don't know if i can carry all that on a ukulele. also the lyrics themselves are super good i AM always burning up

ember by just fern- brain worm. exact definition of a little ditty. stuck in my head right now

write me letters by hot freaks- song of the summer every summer to me. it smells like air conditioning and tastes like hi-c

new star song by the mountain goats- musically and lyrically is it that special? should i put "until olympius returns" instead just as a rec? i've been listening to this song a lot because i like music that sounds bad and i am in a location imagining how someone must feel in a second location it's entranced me

juniper by katy kirby- my spotify wrapped this year is going to be embarrassingly revealing in terms of what day i listened to what song the most. anyway

i am not tagging other people but if anyone wants to post 5 songs you can say you got it from me!

[libidomechanica]

With stick; and singled a shadowy word

A Meredith sonnet sequence

                With stick; and singled a shadowy word   of the blood pretty woman, put it. Some   were! It were one thou guess to me, if men of Abelard labour own, its show a moment stopped prepared its ways, ere tame. Tears   to his side—o rather’s song anyway,   care. The heart why, I hanging coupe. I burn throught than feareth but Christabel striving murmur of the shapes around as above   without a rake: then thy powre in the appear   what’s extinguished hills echoèd. She, why did not been as such cold. Lets ticks me to common see. That brief appears or sing hand   oh, her from those the fear, smil’d, what was her   adventurous arm, which showing round of the prevail that least bo-peepe or to blisse.

                And of meat, ye must thy selfe at Christabel   her wind there head’s united Norwegian   kindle at last? And sigh or travell’d nymphs, but of delicacy of this bolder music has soon espyed. With those the   placed in a winter seas best, we’llput all   some future Livy terrifying an inter craned, and ground. Young love with poet stirs; and leading come, who like two of that   masque: some maid fold, art sabre, if to bear   as the naked liggen wrapt in inks were take twelve force of liars alone. Will you lov’st by the hands were all, still the Beast. With   wrong, she way to his less is no fearful   to soar to him, became. The leave her as piety could falling for profusion.

                How came descriptions shed a race, with since   I come, with your dear, yet not, the grands to   lay. So piercing his fourty years unshatter nose. And all to make his fancy replied, then, who have gives; and was she water   they comfort a merry glee, an’ a’ the   Bust and thus is but carnival, after Winter’s art for euer shame, all that make follow’d with; I love the ancie, and then all mind!—   And swelled nation’s doom: where Venus hath flow   of ten of death. His blind. How conscience I kiss of sons propagate the raves, in threw hardly held with God aloud; you wilt prov’d   voice with thy blood survives. And to offer   what fresh—for his calmly kiss of a forever,—he this the sight, how longest day.

                Young many a sudden blooms, and was sow,   and how one: to under a new life too   long ygoe is shall drawn, their plac’d; beauty, education; the with stars ground, as white robe, and I rose they seem’d them, nor envy then   health it; and yet is, the chang’d! By his call   she rest while in happing on the blush’d as the two smart as I wont down, and once on the creepe: alas! Some love is only childlesse   pleasure, and beautiful or wine, strake   in my filled, but clowne small adore their space, his own in my erring throated surface and ne’er watching has some mystery. How   that he knew, but king, for tho, the lassie,   the reason, oh, her recommeth that’s upper disordering thee stay forgive was.

                So then the restless pass fourty year aye   shepheard a starue. Win that love is gone think   to call, while Geraldry, the women, with all-sung wittes to his own weakness and close, to the first of the wood survives. The   curse on the spray young its first note of all   things benumb us attack’d in a celebrate, there the first your fruit, gush divine and oathsome day, there, insation too soft   for all, that blood whisper of mercy vould   you art to dwell the sun took the state of anguish pride flames are the pure, as both soft a dazzling music I heart. Head thou, greet   with which matter name if I pleasure you   will whispered. Were steps them thus ditty sad story instant sometimes twixt her adieu.

                Unless chain’d; labouring, or human fees.   And lie drown’d, when your Castle coming better,   she, that in dizzy transient says envy master forth with goodly verdure tauld go, and take back to raised, we show his lot,   far other Eden; these fields, her fall. How   can paining sees the must start up there the which discuss’d to all you wrong—a low diffus’d, and sole exchangel Singing love shepherds   sang of this, to carry youth to paused   thou here? And beside three! Nor the in than a part thy void of life, a strange in the unmov’d trick’d before. Then the ravest woke   that colour’d like the same vacant mine. She   love’s service and elusive ghosts, and Pant one even at their happy omen!

                Against thought in perhaps the bound to bear,   and mistress, but wholly another heart’s   beautiful dream of watching sparkling fire, its river damm’d to shore to quence’ is a come. Put up sudden mortal eyes gainst   thou loiter the prove to his eye and robe   of this gentle Lambro pretence, or twice; and of our old will price, a sweet virgin motion. Except perhaps or more to sleighteen,   vapours alive, since into you. His   enter, hack into a sweet Naiad offices of all contentment is but which mind the Laocoon’s feet, you’llnever father in   me, such like a cedars as about the   street; the now a strain’d hands would but ev’ry Lady FRANCES drest so smooth arms in me.

[finzphoenix]

Your wonderful gift has just arrived, @skxtchyghost, and I am absolutely smitten!?? They are even more exquisite in person - truly the sweetest little treasures I've ever laid eyes on!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕💕💖💖💖💖💖💖

The packaging was stunning as well: thoughtfully wrapped in charming, artistically folded vintage-like newspaper, adorned with delicate ribbons, and accompanied by the most endearing little note on top. Such an impeccably delightful presentation! ;////;

I'm genuinely moved to tears, thank you soooo so much, Lyx!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥴🥴🥴

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

September

Jonathan sat at the kitchen table, going over and over his syllabus with more care than was strictly necessary. He was certainly no stranger to drafting lesson plans and syllabi and course objectives, never had a problem doing it in the past. But this year was so different than other years had been, and he felt a pang of something he didn’t quite recognize as he thought about reclaiming his place at the front of a classroom.

He sighed, gaze shifting to stare out the window. Their home on the outskirts of the city was surrounded by trees and bushes, shrouded in leaves that were tinged with orange to signal autumn’s approach. It was a quiet, comfortable little house that attracted few visitors and seemed to evade scrutiny from the caped crusader and his cohort. If someone had asked him even a few years ago, Jonathan would have never suspected that he’d ever be a professor again, much less a homemaker. But here he was, unbothered by the law, playing house, and sitting at a kitchen table editing a syllabus like the past twenty years had never happened.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he flinched, head whipping around to see Edward standing beside him. He had clearly just woken up, copper hair mussed and sticking up in all directions. Jonathan noticed one of his old university sweatshirts hanging off the man’s small frame, so oversized that he was nearly swallowed by the grey fabric. His glasses were perched on his pointed nose, an unusual sight given the man’s obsession with showing off his wide green eyes. All natural, he would brag if anyone made the mistake of commenting on them. It was not a claim he could make about many of his other features.

“Been up long?” Edward asked through a yawn, hand traveling up the side of Jonathan’s neck to twist into his hair.

“Few hours.”

“Coffee?”

“There’s a bit left in the pot,” he mumbled, gesturing absently toward the kitchen counter as his focus returned to his laptop. “It’s probably burnt to hell, though.”

“No,” he said. “You. Do you want coffee?”

Jonathan paused. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

“No trouble,” Edward replied lightly. He massaged Jonathan’s scalp for a moment longer before disentangling his fingers from his hair and padding, barefoot, toward the coffeepot. “It’s your big day, after all.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Nervous?” he asked, fitting a paper filter into the coffee maker and spooning coffee grounds into it.

“Not really.”

“Do you know anything about your students yet?”

Jonathan shrugged, scrolling up and down through the document as if doing so would show him something he hadn’t already seen a hundred times. “Just their names.”

Edward poured water into the pot before closing the lid and plugging it in. “And you’re teaching… six sections?”

“Correct.”

“So that’s, what, a hundred and thirty kids?”

“Something like that.”

He whistled, turning to lean against the edge of the counter. “Lot of people.”

“Are you trying to make me nervous?” Jonathan asked, more sharply than he had intended.

“Not at all. Sounds like it’s working, though.”

“I’m not nervous,” he insisted. “I’ve done this hundreds of times. I know how to teach.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Edward’s lips. “It has been a while, though,” he pointed out. “And you have a very different reputation these days.”

Jonathan’s jaw tensed. He did not appreciate all these little reminders from his partner on his so-called “big day”. “Don’t you think I know that?” he snapped. “I’m shocked they even hired me with my record, let alone put me in charge of upwards of a hundred impressionable young people. It’s absolutely psychotic. But here we are, and I have to be in a classroom in three hours. So will you shut the fuck up and let me finish getting things ready?”

Edward was silent for a few moments as Jonathan glared at his computer screen, clicking aimlessly between tabs and windows. He tried to angle the screen away from Edward so he couldn’t see that he was doing absolutely nothing of import.

Jonathan wasn’t sure how much time had passed but he felt one of his hands being moved away from the keyboard, followed by the warmth of a mug pressed into his palm. Edward’s hand lingered on his, soft fingertips grazing his skin ever so slightly. Jonathan tightened his grip on the cup, pulling away to raise it to his lips. “Thank you,” he muttered, remembering his manners before taking a sip.

“Of course. I want to be the perfect housewife,” he said proudly, sitting down across from Jonathan at the table. “You know, make your coffee, fix your tie, and send you off to work like they do in the movies,” he continued with a broad grin.

“We are not married.”

“Being a housewife is a state of mind,” Edward replied dismissively. “And don’t expect it to last. My domesticity does have its limits.”

“I wasn’t expecting it to even begin,” he said dryly. “So I don’t imagine I will be too bothered when your generosity goes the way of your hairline and begins to recede.”

Jonathan felt something solid smack into his forehead and Edward’s glasses fell with a clatter onto his keyboard, having been folded and used as a projectile. “You’re very irresponsible with your belongings,” he remarked, making no moves to return the item.

“And you’re very rude to your dutiful housewife,” he retorted.

“Yes dear,” he muttered mockingly.

Another blessed moment of silence. Jonathan exhaled a tense sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Normally, he would be enjoying a morning like this. The transition out of the suffocating heat of summer and into the cool, crisp autumn weather was reinvigorating, even enjoyable under normal circumstances. It signaled a return to comfortable clothes and hot drinks and the skeletal arms of trees who had shed their golden leaves for the season. And he wasn’t able to enjoy any of it because he had some annoying brat in his ear reminding him that he had to go back to fucking school. When he had been a professor before, the end of summer usually consisted of a few weeks of sobriety detoxing from all the opiates he used to fill his time during those unbearable months, followed by an intense stimulant bender around the second week of the semester. And, though he knew he was better off without the haze of withdrawal hanging over his head, he couldn’t help but wonder how he would endure a whole school year without the extra bump.

“I was thinking,” Edward said, interrupting his train of thought, “that I could come down around lunchtime. See you between classes.”

“Hm.”

“Would you like that?” he asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I could bring you another coffee. Or lunch. Or just keep you company if you’re bored. But if you’re too busy—”

“I think that would be nice,” Jonathan said softly, putting a stop to the other man’s rambling. “I have a break from eleven ten to twelve forty.”

Edward beamed, skin crinkling around his eyes as he smiled. “It’s a date, then.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

[acapelladitty]

Hey Ditty!

For the five sentence fic could you please do Jonathan Crane x Reader with the prompt “How did you manage to set that on fire?”

Hope you’re keeping safe and warm!

"How did you manage to set that on fire?"

Scowling as you watch the flames lick at the mouth of the glass beaker, the compound which you had painstakingly mixed together burned away with a questionably purple flame.

"I only took my eyes off it for a moment." You confess, avoiding Crane's gaze as he hovers behind your left shoulder.

"Rookie error." Crane mutters, spindly fingers pressing at the nape of your neck as you lean into his touch. "Be thankful you hadn't yet added the acid as the beaker would have likely exploded in your face."

Wincing at the thought, you allow him to tactfully move several test tubes further away from the ongoing flame as he carefully places a glass slide across the top of the beaker to smother the oxygen supply.

[projecthipster]

Ok, I’ve also had this thought, and it centres around The Youth and Beauty Brigade. In that song at the end of the first album, right, the singer goes from a carefree life (California One) to hearing a “good ghost,” and wanting to repay a debt to society through this brigade at the library. My theory is that the Youth and Beauty Brigade is a mirror of the band themselves and it’s a library group of kids or teens who can speak with ghosts. They write down and share these ghosts’ stories so that they’re not forgotten, and these stories become all the historic/archaic songs, and all those that end in death or tragedy, through to at least The Crane Wife. It’s mostly just the little closing ditties to the albums (As I Rise, Of Angels and Angles) that are the framing devices cutting back to the modern Brigade meetings.

And I still like to think of connections between the songs just for fun:

- Colin confirmed that he sees We Both Go Down Together is a prequel to Leslie Anne Levine. The singer of WBGDT rapes Miranda Levine and coerces her into a double suicide. She survives but then dies giving birth to Leslie.

- Miranda’s son from an earlier marriage watched her death and vows revenge, leading to The Mariner’s Revenge.

- While the young Mr. Levine is working in the priory before his ill fated revenge quest he falls in love with a woman (or a man!) who becomes the singer of From My Own True Love Lost At Sea.

- One of the ships destroyed in the conflict between the Mariner Levine and the man he thinks is the rake who raped and killed his mother rises again to become the ghostly Arethusa.

- The singer of The Chimbley Sweep is Leslie Anne Levine’s only love who got stuck inside a flue. That one’s a gimme.

I have a (crack?) theory that all The Decemberists songs take place in the same universe. I like to play with the implications of it

[enigmamuse]

Crane #21 xx

21- Wild card! Talk about anything to do with this character! Anything at all! - Museverse Jonathan

Hmmmm he has a tendency to tolerate a lot of things, even if it upsets him or makes him uncomfortable. He packs away certain negative feelings - petty jealousy, irritation, wounded pride - and lets them ferment until he has a manic outburst (though he's a bit better at reserving it for "Scarecrow time" now). The longer he goes without these episodes will usually correspond to the length of time or degree of unpredictability the next one will have.

Character ask here x

[sinisterscarecrow]

[3lizab3t]

shit