#Timeless Sans

[spotaus]

Timeless AU Sans and Asriel! 🫡

I was going to color them but I'm mildly afraid my roommate will come back and I am not about to try and explain... this. So, temporarily take these sketches!

With a bonus full-family wip! (I need to make Gaster smaller/thinner but y'know--)

In this au, Gaster isn't killed in the core accident, and so he's present for the major tragedies that would normally follow his death. And subsequently is able to fix some of the problems! One being Asriel's death and transformation into Flowey.

Gaster, who was working on making a monster from almost scratch (his soul was too weak to form another soul but he wanted a kid and yadda yadda), successfully created Sans. After a bit of studying Sans' growth, Gaster was practically able to revive Asriel. Asriel is older than Sans by a few years as his 'death' made him miss a few.

And during this process, Gaster also managed to rizz up Asgore by complete accident. They'd always been close, even before the war, but Asgore was to be king, and he was already betroathed to Tori at birth, so Gaster was content being by Asgore's side as a friend. Buttttttt Toriel leaving for the ruins in her grief left the door wide-open for Asgore to finally make a move on Gaster. They never officially marry, but literally everyone outside the ruins is aware that the two are together.

Asriel remembers very little of his death, but he remembers Chara, and he remembers the surface. Asgore and Gaster don't hide the fact that Asriel died from him, and one day Azzy got up the courage to ask Gaster if he could bring back Chara too. Gaster hadn't even thought about it, but he figured that without Chara's body he wouldn't be able to revive them in any meaningful way. Azzy doesn't give up hope, but he doesn't bother Gaster about it anymore.

Azzy is a gentle soul, shy and playful. He's not used to being an older sibling, and he misses his mom, but he likes his new family too. He often trips and falls, resulting in the bandaid scattered on his body, and he loves to farm just like Asgore, so he usually wears overalls.

Sans is Gaster's oldest son by magic-line. He's punny, a prankster, and the more confident between himself and Asriel. If they're out of their element, Sans is the one to forge through the path and laugh while doing it! Gaster can't get him to wear shoes ("You and Dad and Azzy don't, so why should I?" Is usually his rebuttle. No one can really argue it.) So he's usually seen only wearing socks.

Papyrus (who is only a few scribbles in Gaster's arms rn) is the youngest and doesn't really get the same chances as Sans and Azzy do as older kids, but he'll grow to be the most rambunctious of all of them. I think Papy is self-conscious when he's young (what if he's not good enough? Sans is so good at science stuff like Papa, and Asriel is a great prince like Dad, so where does that leave him?) But he ends up training in combat with Asriel before meeting Undyne and deciding he wants to be part of the royal guard! (That way he can protect his 1 hp brother and his Princely brother!) Undyne and him are quick friends.

Actually, since I'm on a role: Asriel keeps studying and learning from his dad on how to be a prince. Honestly, he likes what Sans and his Pops are up to a lot more, but he doesn't mind being Future King. (He sneaks into the lab to watch the two do their studies whenever he can.) Meanwhile Sans works with Gaster in the labs! He's a fast learner and loves the work, but everyone can see just how much more natural he is with social science. He understands the political theory Asriel tells him and Sans can dissect exactly wtf it means and why Asriel has to react the way he does. Sans still ends up being the Judge, but largely keeps his focuses to the Lab with his pops abd Alphys. And Papy is certainly Great. He ends up as co-captain of the Royal Guard. He's not quite as personable as Undyne, but he sure is committed, and has direct ties to the royal family. More often than not, when he's not doing his rounds or helping with training, he's Azzy's personal guard.

And yes, this does mean incoming 20-ish Asriel, 19-ish Sans, and 17-ish Paps designs are incoming eventually! Asgore and Gaster get to see their sons grow up!!!

[zucchiyeni]

For a lil project i'm having 😎🔥

Finished this in one sitting hello?!??? Soo so proud how it turns out💞

Cross belongs to Jakel95

[goranvisnjiconline]

🥱 Just a little update before going to bed!

I've added some screencaps in the Gallery today 👇

📷 Timeless S1-EP10 The Capture of Benedict Arnold (1553 Screencaps)

Click 👉 HERE for the Gallery

📷 General - Episode 4 (608 Screencaps)

Click 👉 HERE for the Gallery

📷 Leverage Season 3 EP15 - The Big Bang Job (216 Screencaps)

EP16 - The San Lorenzo Job (392 Screencaps)

Click 👉 HERE for the Gallery

I also added on the GVD Youtube, a BTS video from Leverage Season 3 - EP 15 The Big Bang Job. We See some shots of Goran from the Pool Scene!

[liliallowed]

dust would probably like try to bring Chara from the grave and say "fuk you I quit taking your job"

after like five genocides.

bro just leaves. peaces out. screw the timeline screw the world it can crash for all he cares he's going back to drink his damned ketchup...

then the world friking crashes and everything gets corrupted in code. dust is just stuck in grillby. the outside is non-existent. space is false. there is no passage of time or a sense of it...

I might call this au... timeless!

-inspured by htsan

[timelessdubs]

Back and better then ever!

[acousticloveruk]

Dragons Exist (Motion Picture Soundtrack)

Written by: Vlad & Izzy J.

Dm - C - Bb- Am- A

Verse 1

Never thought that I would make it this far;

Dust to dust, we fuss, it’s us & just another rainbow to our stars

Near yet oh so far in the distance (in the distance)

Verse 2

Forever mass a lass between the hollow hearts

I swim & sing a dream alone

League beneath a gleam of their sea

Don’t know anything outside of me

Tell me what you see when love finds me

Chorus Interlude:

Bb - Am

So much tension

(So much tension)

Did they mention

(Didn't they mention)

Chorus:

Dm- Am- C - G

Dragons exist

We don’t burn us down

We just burn out bright

You put out the lights

And make a World full of space

Trace us to our source

Here we are full force

So don’t you miss

When dragons exist 🐉 📿

Verse 3

Through a life of strife a knife cuts deep within an ancient curse

Its worth will hurt; My Earth is dirt

The places once lost

All have a cost & a flame

Shame to fame your blame it gives us all your glory

Pain it heals we fill our sorrow for a story

Beginning to the end

I am a friend

You can't tame me

Chorus Interlude:

Bb - Am

I am fiction

(So much tension)

Did I mention

(Didn't they mention)

Chorus:

Dm- Am- C - G

Dragons exist

We don’t burn us down

We just burn out bright

You put out the lights

And make a World full of space

Trace us to our source

Here we are full force

So don’t you miss

When dragons exist 🐉 📿

They want to see me fail, even in death I will prevail) (X4)

Chorus:

Dm- Am- C - G

Dragons exist

We don’t burn us down

We just burn out bright

You put out the lights

And make a World full of space

Trace us to our source

Here we are full force

So don’t you miss

When dragons exist 🐉 📿

Copyright 2024AD ℗ All Rights Reserved

[bumblingbee1]

I love how after the Green Sabre part, it really brings hindsight on how much of a snake Big Smoke was from the very beginning.

[alegiorgi]

Timeless da www.alegiorgiartphoto.com Tramite Flickr: www.alegiorgiartphoto.com Become fan on FACEBOOK Follow me on INSTAGRAM 500px Follow me on TWITTER -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[eagleflieswiththedove]

Foyer (DC Metro)

[darlingillustrations]

PRIDE is timeless

sources for photographs:

Bluebirds - Kitty Ely class of 1887 (left) and Helen Emory class of 1889, Mount Holyoke students, via vintagephoto.livejournal.com. Source for image.

Cats - Nusch Éluard and Sonia Mossé. Paris. 1935 Photographer: Man Ray. Source for image.

Chipmunks - Source for image.

Deer - Source for image.

Dogs - Source for image.

Foxes, dancing - Photograph by Thurston Hopkins, Tango in the East End, London, 1954. Source for image.

Foxes, dapper - Source for image.

Frogs - Photograph from a collection called “Hidden in the Open,” curated by Trent Kelley. Source for image.

Giraffes - “Tough Threads.” Ken Russell photographed Teddy Girls in London -1950s. Source for image.

Hedgehogs - Chuck Rowland & Harry Hay (Apr. 7, 1912 – Oct. 24, 2002), 1983. © Stephen Stewart, via @onearchives. Harry Hay was the visionary behind the queer liberation movement in the U.S. With his background in leftist politics, Hay merged the revolutionary idea of homosexuals as an “oppressed cultural minority” with the fundamentals of organizing. (verbiage by lgbt_history… read more here).

Lions - I found this image on the internet in 2017 and have not been able to relocate it since.

Octopus - Circa 1970 by Donna Gottschalk. Source for image.

Otters - Source for image.

Polar Bears - Source for image.

Rabbits, mm - Source for image.

Rabbits, ww - Source for image.

Raccoons - Photographed by Kay Tobin, circa 1977. Source for image.

Red Pandas - Mariana Romo Carmona and June Chan (b. June 6, 1956), New York City, 1988. Photo © Robert Giard Foundation. (read more about these activists here)

Seagulls - Source for image.

Skunks - Photograph from the etsy shop The Vintage Image Boutique.

Sloths - Castro Street Fair, San Francisco, California, August 17, 1980. Photo © Paul Fusco. (read more about this street fair here)

Snow Leopards - Gay Pride Day, NYC 1980 / © Stanley Stellar.

The Affectionate Animal series is a project I have worked on for years, illustrating vintage photographs of queer couples. All paintings are by me, Erin Darling. Here is a link to the series on my site.

[spotaus]

I am begging on my knees that Tumblr posts this. It has no audio but I cannot send it from my computer to phone and I want it archived lmao-

[metamatar]

In 2005, the tellingly named studio After Stone wall Productions released a film titled Dangerous Living: Coming Out in the Developing World. Featuring interviews with various LGBT activists from different countries outside the West, spliced up and lumped together haphazardly, the film delivers the following overarching messages: that it is not safe to be queer in the "developing world," that what queer spaces do exist in the "developing world" are to be found in certain metropolises: Cairo, Kuala Lumpur, Calcutta, Rio de Janeiro—and that these sites trace their genealogy to the Stonewall riots. Furthermore, according to the film, queerness/gayness and sometimes transness (when it is acknowledged) were invented in the West. Epistemic breaking points such as the Stone wall riots and canonized locales such as San Francisco and Greenwich Village are the originating points of this innovation against the backdrop of a timeless, pervasive heterosexism. This cosmopolitan gayness/queerness then "spreads" from the metropole to the periphery, forming a web from city to city This coincides with Jack Halberstam's (excruciatingly white) analysis in his book In a Queer Time and Place: the idea of "metronorma tivity" that "the rural is made to function as a closet for urban sexualities in most accounts of rural queer migration" and that "the metronormative narrative maps a story of migration onto the coming-out narrative" (2005, 36-37). We can extend Halberstam's analysis further and see the ways that the closet/rural/(post)colony as well as out/urban/metropole get col lapsed onto each other—the queer is always pulled closer to the heart of capital.

The overarching savior narrative occurs towards the end of the film, when each interviewee, in clips spliced together, tells his or her story of emigrating to the West. After a particularly heart-wrenching story of Ashraf Zanati's departure from Egypt, the narrator comments that "Ashraf Zanati left Egypt. Ashraf had become part of a planetary minority." Although the film purports to care about the status of queers in the "developing world," it actually forms a wounded attachment that fetishizes displacement and bifurcates the queer from his or her society. This narration of non-Western countries as inherently unsafe for queer subjects produces the very displacement it describes, in a manner similar to the ways nine teenthcentury colonial archaeology laid the foundations for Zionism and the dispossession of Arab Jews. Writing about the European "discovery" and destruction of the Cairo Geniza—a building that had housed pieces of paper documenting centuries of jewish Egyptian history—Shohat (2006) shows us that the discursive/ archival dislocation of Egyptian Jews by the forces of European/Ashkenazi colonialism anticipated the later dislocation of Egyptian Jews. This dislocation would form part of the backbone of Zionist historiography's production of a "morbidly selective 'tracing the dots' from pogrom to pogrom." The fetishization of queer displacement, as projected by Dangerous Living, performs a similar historical flip to the one Shohat documents: "If at the time of the 'Geniza discovery' Egyptian Jews were still seen as part of the colonized Arab world, with the partition of Palestine, Arab-Jews, in a historical shift, suddenly became simply 'Jews'" (Shohat 2006, 205). Through various colonial practices, there was a discursive bifurcation between the "Arab" and the "Jew"; in the case of case of Dangerous Living there is a similar bifurcation between the "Egyptian" and the "Queer."

Papantonopoulou, Saffo. “‘Even a Freak Like You Would Be Safe in Tel Aviv’: Transgender Subjects, Wounded Attachments, and the Zionist Economy of Gratitude.” Women’s Studies Quarterly, vol. 42, no. 1/2, 2014, pp. 278–93. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24364930. Accessed 11 Nov. 2024.

[goranvisnjiconline]

Goran @ The San Diego Comic Con, July 20th 2017

He's got Teacher Vibes on this 🤣

HD size pictures available on the Gallery section as always :)

[vegetarianburrito]

Inspiration for a timeless guest carpeted bedroom remodel with no fireplace

[yokohamapound]

ok but like consider,, dazai, akutagawa, kunikida and atsushi (or anyone else u wanna add my request is mainly for akutagawa and kunikida) working alone and you open your coat to reveal you're just wearing lingerie underneath <3

Ah, such a classic move! <3

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Dazai Osamu, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakajima Atsushi, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gn!reader, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, mild derogatory dirty talk

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida is often to be found working late in the Armed Detective Agency’s office, especially after the conclusion of a case. Or if Dazai has been especially a pain in the ass that day and prevented Kunikida from keeping to his packed work schedule. Kunikida is not the type of man who’ll let the day’s work slip over to tomorrow. That’s how nations start to crumble (according to him). 

Hours after the rest of the agency have gone home, even Fukuzawa, Kunikida is still there, typing away at his laptop, the glare of the screen making his glasses seem opaque. His only concession to the late hour is a half-drunk cup of coffee sitting beside the laptop. 

His head twists around when the door to the agency office opens. Who could it be this late at night? Atsushi coming to check up on him? Dazai coming to sleep on the couch again? He tenses when he sees the tan colour of a trenchcoat through the wavy glass of the office door, but his shoulders loosen when he sees you in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asks you, turning back to finish that last bit of paperwork. “And what’s with the coat? You’re not trying to dress like Dazai now, are you?”

He hopes not. Kunikida doesn’t need to be jump-scared like that every time you meet up with him. He’s only half-listening when you give him some excuse about being cold. Faintly, he picks up the sound of high heels clicking against the polished floorboards as you make your way over to him. He catches a hint of perfume as you come to stand at his shoulder. 

“I’m almost finished,” he grunts, his fingers flying so fast across the keyboard they seem to blur slightly at the edges. He’s tired, and it must be late indeed if you’ve come to pick him up. He turns his head to ask about what you two should pick up for dinner on the way home, when his jaw falls open like someone pulled out a screw holding it shut.

You’ve allowed your trenchcoat to fall open, revealing your body clad in scraps of structured silk and lace. Something classy and timeless, in soft cream or sultry black. It’s like something out of an old movie or a vintage catalogue. Kunikida’s glasses steam up briefly, before he slams his laptop closed.

“Doppo,” you chide, faking a gasp. “You didn’t put a period on that last sentence of your paperwork. You can’t just leave it…unfinished like that.”

Kunikida pulls off his glasses, his expression stern. “This time,” he proclaims, his voice deep and momentous, “I’ll make an exception.”

Kunikida drives you home, driving so close to the speed limit he’s practically edging it, with one hand buried firmly between your thighs. If you’re very misbehaved, he might use his notebook to conjure something to keep you…occupied…on the drive home.

Dazai Osamu

You went one better for this and stole Dazai’s trenchcoat. Let’s leave it up for debate whether he knew what you were up to and let you steal his coat to pull off your little performance—it’s more fun that way. 

Because it’s Dazai, you arrange to meet at a bar for a date. Preferably one where he’s not already run up a tab or been slapped by all of the female bartenders and waiting staff. There are a few of those left in Yokohama, you just have to look really hard for them. 

When you arrive, Dazai is sitting on a barstool, one foot propped on the footrest, his elbows on the bar. He’s sans trenchcoat, dressed in his dark waistcoat, with the sleeves of his blue pinstripe shirt rolled up to his mid-forearm, revealing the bandages wrapped around his wrists. Spotting you in the reflection of the bottles behind the bar, he glances over at you. Dazai’s dark eyes sweep over you from head to toe, and he immediately knows there’s something interesting going on beneath that trenchcoat.

“You know,” he drawls. “I lost a coat just like that this morning. It’s quite the startling coincidence, don’t you think?”

He's so intrigued that he even cracks open his wallet to buy you a drink (shocking, I know). Dazai's eyes are glued to the sight of you cinched into his coat. His eyes drop down when you sit on the barstool beside him, crossing your legs. His fingers tighten around the cut crystal of his glass. 

"Is that...lace?"

At your smug confirmation that is indeed lace, Dazai knocks back his drink. No time to savour the liquor. He pinches the hem of the trenchcoat and lifts it up a little further to see the stocking clinging to your thigh. 

Dazai's eyes glint dangerously in the dim overhead lights of the bar. 

"Bella." His voice is a lusty purr as his hand runs up your thigh, fingers plucking at the top of your stocking, tracing circles into your soft flesh. "I'll give you a thirty second head start. When I catch up to you..."

I hope you can find somewhere relatively private in the next thirty seconds. 

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

If you thought it might be a good idea to copy the move above and wear Akutagawa’s trenchcoat over your lingerie, let me gently pry that idea from your eager little hands. It is not a good idea, and it will not end well. Just get your own trenchcoat. Maybe in a nice shade of camel?

Akutagawa waits impatiently for you in the middle of town, watching the civilians amble around between stores, his eyes narrowed in irritation. He doesn't know why you asked to meet him here, but it feels like a waste of his time. He decides he will wait only five more minutes before he leaves.

A flicker of something pale from the corner of his eye. It's a Pavlovian response—Akutagawa's head whips around. Instead of his former master, he instead spots you click-clacking toward him in a pair of heels, wrapped in a light trenchcoat. Hair? Done. Make-up? Flawless. 

Akutagawa's forehead furrows, his voice pitched low with annoyance and confusion. "Why are you wearing that?"

You're used to his pricky demeanour by now and it doesn't faze you. You turn so you are facing away from the crowds, slowly untying the belt. You peel open the front of the waistcoat enough to give Akutagawa a glimpse of what lies underneath. 

Black lace. Smooth skin. Silk. 

His throat tightens, and for once it doesn't signal the onset of a coughing fit. Akutagawa's eyes widen, his teeth and fists clenching.

"What in the hells are you wearing?" he demands.

"Lingerie," you say, retying the the belt of your trenchcoat. "Don't you like it?"

Akutagawa knows every alley and alcove of Yokohama. Every blind spot and dead end. He puts this knowledge to good use as he manhandles you into the nearest semi-private spot. Bands of Rashoumon wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you up against the alleyway wall. 

Akutagawa's pale hands tremble with suppressed excitement as he unties the trenchcoat and peels it open again. The sight of you, dressed in such a lewd fashion and bound, makes his cock harden fast enough to make him dizzy. His voice is low, curt.

"If you insist on dressing like a harlot, I shall treat you like one. After all, that is what you wanted, is it not? My attention."

Please don't worry about making any noise. He'll simply use Rashoumon to gag you. <3

Nakajima Atsushi

Oh dear, are you trying to give the poor boy a heart attack?

Atsushi is at the Armed Detective Agency office alone. Perhaps it's lunchtime and the rest of the agents and staff have retired downstairs for coffee and lunch at Cafe Uzumaki. Atsushi needs to finish his report, or he's flat broke and doesn't want to have to mooch of Kunikida in the cafe again, so he's eating some cold rice balls at his desk.

He sputters on a mouthful of onigiri when the door swings open, popping up like a daisy from his desk, expecting it to be a client. He sags in relief when he sees it is just you, hastily brushing some grains of rice from the front of his shirt.

“Hi!”

Oh, he’s so chirpy to see you. It really is adorable. Look at how the smile blossoms on his face. There are practically sparkles coming off him as he heads toward you. 

Only for Atsushi to stop in his tracks when you casually untie the front of your coat and flash him the sight of your body in sweet, pink-and-white lingerie. You’re frosted in lace and frills like a little cupcake, and Atsushi’s brain jams like the printer.

“H-buh? Whuh? You…you…”

His face burns crimson, standing out stark against his white hair, and he whips his head around to make sure there is no one else in the office, even though he’s relatively sure he’s alone. Atsushi grabs the front of your coat and covers you up, flushing when you laugh at his embarrassment.

“What are you wearing?” he hisses, his eyes wide as saucers. “Why are you wearing it here?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise~”

“It is,” he stammers. “It’s very…it’s so nice.” He opens the coat a little, peeking at what lies beneath, before closing it again, his ears burning. “But…but not here. Maybe at home?”

You give an airy shrug. “Perhaps you can tell Kunikida you weren’t feeling well so you had to go home early?”

Smash cut to Atsushi fake-coughing down the phone to Kunikida. 

Nakahara Chuuya

It's late. Yokohama is a glittering sprawl beneath the windows of Chuuya's plush office. The office is dim, save for the light of his laptop screen and the recessed, moody red lighting of his shelves. He eases away from his emails, rubbing at his eyes, and crosses the room to pour himself a whiskey from the cut glass decanters. 

For Chuuya, 'working late' often involves taking a few heavies and going to threaten someone, not sitting and trawling through emails, but now and then he needs to engage with the corporate bullshit that comes with being an executive. 

The buzz of his personal phone draws his attention. He scoops it up, his thumb tapping the screen. He has his gloves made custom so they work with touchscreens. A text message from you pops open and he grins, leaning against the edge of his desk. 

The image is simple, but evocative. Smooth skin under red lace. He's not even entirely sure which body part it is, but it's tantalising all the same. He's sure he'll find out after your dinner reservation that evening. Steak, of course.

A knock sounds at his office door and he lets out an annoyed grunt, immediately locking his phone and laying it facedown on his desk. 

"Yeah, come in."

His annoyance evaporates the moment you saunter in, all high heels and cinched black trenchcoat. And damn, is that red lipstick? It is. 

"Hey, doll. Whatcha doin' here?" 

He's running his gaze over that trenchcoat, trying to imagine what you're wearing underneath. His smile widens into a full-blown grin when you turn and lock the door behind you. 

"Don't know where this is comin' from, but I like where it's goin'."

You make a show of it, untying the knot on the belt, letting the smooth fabric rasp as it slides against itself. First baring one shoulder, then the next, shimmying the coat off you like its a fur stole. It crumples to the ground, leaving you in all your glory.

Chuuya drags a hand down his face, letting out a low, ragged laugh that sounds just this side of feral.

"Fuck, dollface..."

Bro launches himself at you, pushing you up against the back of his office door. His gloved hands slide over your bare skin, gravity starting to make less and less of an impression on you as he floats you. His mouth crushes against yours. 

Unfortunately, you miss your dinner reservation by several hours.