#You can tell which eras these are from based off if I bothered to brighten them and increase contrast

[spaghetticat3899]

Old Splatoon art dump (1)

A barrage of old art I think is important to characterize my little fellows the tumblr audience missed out on. I feel like some of these are kinda essential to show character dynamics, despite their crudeness. Some drawings have more effort than others, but that’s just how it is, not because of laziness, but rather just scribbling things down without too much conscious effort. Some of these were also drawn during high school, in the middle of class, to pass time. (I think most of this is from 2021-2022)

[fullmoonremus]

And This Is How It Starts | Susan Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Slight homophobia, shitty friends???

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Everything your soulmate loses, you receive. Turns out, Y/N’s soulmate is very forgetful. 

Request: helloo. can you write a sapphic susan fic please! take it whatever way you'd like :)

A/N: I’m not sure how many people read Susan fics, but I really like this one :D

masterlist | narnia playlist | read on ao3

“Gross, can you guys please cut it out?” Y/N stated, watching her best friend suck faces with her soulmate. She was on his lap and their make out session was starting to grow more intense than Y/N was comfortable with. Hannah pulls away from Alex with an exaggerated groan. 

“You’re just jealous you’re still stuck in the ‘lose it and receive it’ phase. Not my fault you haven’t found him yet.” Her voice was light and teasing, but Y/N couldn’t help but fell her heart rip. 

“I’ll find her eventually,” Y/N sighed, taking a book out of her schoolbag. It was a small, very beat-up copy of The Hunger Games. 

“Her?” Alex responded, tearing his gaze from Hannah’s face. “How do you know it’s a her?” 

Y/N opened the book delicately to reveal “Susan Pevensie” written in perfect cursive on the back of the front cover. The book had multiple stains on it, most likely tea judging by the color, and the same perfect cursive riddled the pages. Whoever Susan was, she adored this book with her life. Y/N’s fingertips lightly traced the writing before turning the book for her friends to see. Hannah scrunches her face at it. 

“It could be his friends, you know. Like she lent it to him and he lost it,” Alex kisses Hannah’s cheek. 

“Or this Susan girl is his girlfriend,” Hannah smirks.

“Or,” Y/N was growing frustrated. Whenever she hinted that her soulmate might be a girl, everyone dismissed her suspicions. “My soulmate is Susan Pevensie and she keeps losing her things. And besides, this book is really loved, she wouldn’t just give it to someone.” 

Hannah scoffed, tossing her hair in a very I know everything, and you don’t kind of way. “Fine, believe what you want. Not sure why you would want a girl soulmate anyway, I know I wouldn’t.” 

“Well, yeah, of course you don’t. You’re straight,” Y/N flipped to a random page and read the gorgeous handwriting that was scrawled in the margins. Her mouth twitched slightly at how perfect the script was. 

“What? And you aren’t?” 

“No, I’m not.” Y/N’s eyes didn’t move from the page as she spoke. The teens sat in silence. “Is there a problem?” 

“No! No, of course not,” Alex answered quickly. ‘I guess we just, uh, didn’t expect it… I guess.” 

“Well, surprise. Now that that’s out of the way, do you guys like The Hunger Games?” 

The two grew even more uncomfortable at the sudden tension they were feeling. “No, not necessarily.” 

“She seems to. A lot. And there’s a cute little strawberry bookmark on page 47,” Y/N sighed dreamily picturing what Susan must look like. Based on her cursive alone, she must be absolutely jaw-dropping. 

“Has, er, Susan lost anything else recently?” Alex asked. Y/N nodded excitedly, digging in her bag again. She pulled out a set of keys with a feather pendant keychain, a light pink lipstick, a glass water bottle, and a small fabric coin purse. Y/N grinned down at the items then looked back towards her friends. 

“Oh, she must be quite forgetful. Do you have any other stuff?” Y/N’s grin brightened even more. 

“Oh, loads, this is just what she’s lost within the past week,” The keys jingled as she moved her hands. “The keys must’ve really ruined her day. I wonder what they’re to.” 

“Hopefully somewhere in England. Where’s the money from?” Hannah gestured to the yellow coin purse. Y/N shrugged and tossed it towards her friends. It was rather small, barely the size of Y/N’s palm, and it had a gorgeous diamond quilt pattern. 

“No clue. I haven’t opened it if I’m being quite honest.” Alex’s noble fingers undid the clasp and looked inside. 

“Well, it’s definitely British currency, which is helpful.” He tipped the pouch and emptied the contents into his hand. As expected, a variety of different coins came toppling out, along with a folded piece of paper and various pins. “Can I have this?” 

“No, you cannot have my soulmate’s belongings. Give me that,” Y/N grabs ahold of all the bag and its contents. With her hand cupped like a funnel, the pins and money fall smoothly into the coin purse. Y/N discards the pouch into her bag and begins to unfold the paper. 

She had expected the paper to be riddled with text, like a to-do list or a small reminder. Instead, it appeared to be a little photograph of a family. The paper itself seemed to be fragile as if it had been handled a lot or had gotten wet, so Y/N handled the photo with care. 

The scene depicted the smallest of the group, a little girl, giggling up at the oldest as the other two looked on with large smiles. Y/N turned the photo to look at the back, just in case any date was included with the photo. In the same gorgeous script as the book, Lucy laughing at Peter because Ed insulted him “in the name of justice.” June 15  was written in black ink. Y/N turned the picture over frantically and scanned the faces of the family. 

Susan was absolutely beautiful; her dark brown hair was styled in effortless waves and her lips were painted with a cherry red color. Her eyes were wrinkled in the corners, due to her contagious smile, and she looked like she was filled to the brim with happiness. Y/N had never seen such gorgeous baby blue eyes. 

The poor girl was speechless, her mind running a mile a second and vision focusing on only Susan’s portrait. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Y/N murmured breathlessly. 

“Who is?” 

Y/N looked up at her friends, turning the photo to show them. 

“Susan, my soulmate.” 

~ 

Susan read over the essay that sat in her lap, taking in every detail of the writing. It wasn’t hers, but it was her soulmate’s misplaced homework. The topic wasn’t overly exciting, an analysis of a book Susan hasn’t read, but just the way her soulmate wrote captivated her. Y/N L/N, which was the name written on the top of the paper, had such a poetic way of writing. It was as if she was telling Susan a story, rather than writing about an 18th century novel. 

“Reading the essay again, are we?” Peter snickered from next to her. Susan would have hit him with the paper, but she didn’t want to risk damaging it. 

“Yes, what’s the problem with that?” 

“Nothing, Su, I just don’t think rereading missing homework is going to bring Y/N any closer to you. It’s over a year old.” Peter had found his soulmate when he was young, so he didn’t quite understand his siblings’ desire to find their other halves so quickly. 

“Not physically, but I already know a lot about her from this one paper. I know her handwriting, how she talks, the way she feels about some things…” 

“Yeah, how she feels about classic literature. Not exactly groundbreaking.” Peter sunk deeper into the couch cushion in an attempt to get comfortable. 

“Maybe not to you, but to me it is. You don’t have to be such a happiness drain, you know.” Susan was growing more frustrated by the minute. She didn’t want her older brother to snatch the paper away from her, so she gently creased it and placed it into her notebook. 

“I’m just taking the piss.” 

“Well, it’s not funny. And shouldn’t you be doing your wash? We leave for school tomorrow.” Susan stood up, lifting her bag off of the floor and onto her shoulder. 

“Yes, alright mother.” 

~

“Y/N! Are you coming?” Hannah hollered over her shoulder. She was walking towards the train station with a large group of her friends. Y/N waved her off. 

“I’ll meet you there! Save me a seat, yeah?” Hannah shrugged her off and continued the conversion she was more invested in. 

Y/N sighed, watching their backs disappear into the distance. She never quite liked the group Hannah was friends with, so them leaving her out never quite bothered her. Especially when she could get sandwiches for the train ride. 

The teen was waiting at a crosswalk when she spotted her. Susan was stood at the newspaper stand outside of the corner store Y/N was going to. She looked stunning as she flipped idly through a Vogue magazine. The sun shone across her hair and Y/N thought she looked similar to an angel. 

When the light turned green, Y/N scurried across the street in order to meet her love. However, she paused a few paces away to steady her breathing. 

“Excuse me, are you Susan Pevensie?” Y/N spoke, voice shaking. Susan turned around, utterly confused. Y/N was right in her assumption; Susan was in fact an angel. An angel that looked even more heavenly in person. 

“Yes, and may I ask who you are? And how you know my name?” 

“Oh, right, um I’m Y/N L/N. I’m not sure if you know who-” Susan’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but cut Y/N off. 

“You’re my soulmate.” Her red lips were slightly agape as she took in Y/N’s appearance. “Excuse my bluntness, but you’re even prettier than I imagined.” 

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot and her fingers fumbled with the buckles on her bag. She was much more nervous than she had hoped, but Y/N couldn’t help it. Once the bag was open, she gripped Susan’s possessions and held them out. 

“You need to keep better track of your things, love.” Susan’s perfectly manicured fingers brushed Y/N’s as she took back her book and keys. Y/N’s legs felt like jelly. 

“How could you possibly know what I looked like?” 

“You lost a picture of your family. Well, I suppose a coin purse with a picture folded inside. Still, a picture was lost and I saw it.” Y/N rambled, making Susan giggle. “I’ve been looking for you for ages,” 

“And I you, darling.” Susan placed her belongings into her bag and embraced Y/N. Y/N didn’t quite know what to do; Susan smelt of rose petals and honey and her hair was so soft as it brushed against Y/N’s cheek. All the same, Y/N wrapped her arms loosely around Susan’s waist. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” She whispered into Y/N’s ear. Y/N could have fainted on the spot, but she squeaked out a small yes. 

Susan kept her arms wrapped around Y/N’s neck as she kissed her gently. Y/N’s thumbs danced across the floral patterned fabric that covered her hips as she kissed back. It was light and fleeting, but it still made Y/N feel like she was going to burst. The pair pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes. Susan’s were even bluer in person. 

“Can I buy you a sandwich?” Y/N croaked, cutting the tension. Susan giggled happily. 

“As long as you let me cover the dessert.” 

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Queen of Hearts - Chapter 7

Thirty-year-old Rose Tyler’s matchmaking business is doing very well indeed, bringing her clients such as celebrities, athletes, and the now-happily-married son of the mayor.  All of which brings her to her newest client - one whose royal rank is a far cry above her own title as Queen of Hearts.

Ian, King of Gallifrey, calls off his wedding four weeks before the happy day as he realizes he can’t spend another minute of his life with his betrothed.  The catch - he must take a wife before his Coronation, only a month away.  In desperation, his sister and aunt conspire to find him is happy ever after - and it’s going to take a master matchmaker to do it.

-

Based on the Hallmark Movie ‘Royal Matchmaker’.  Chapters will be posted every Sunday.

As always, beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma​!  @doctorroseprompts

Masterlist  |  AO3

—

Sunday, April 7th

Sunday afternoon found Rose curled up in the library, reading through the second round of files Mel had produced to cull the herd further.  With a warm throw across her lap and a tea service on the table in front of her, a roaring fire in the fireplace only a few feet away, she was particularly cosy and comfortable – or would be, if she could forget the enormity of the task in front of her.

“Made yourself at home, I see,” a voice drawled behind her, and she startled violently.

“Shit!”  Just barely managing to not spill her cuppa, Rose twisted to see the King standing behind her, smirking with his arms crossed.  “Your Majesty!”  Fumbling into a half-standing position she attempted a curtsy, nearly falling over in the process.  Embarrassed, she kept her head down, hoping he couldn't see the warmth blooming on her cheeks.

Thankfully he looked amused when she dared peek up from beneath her eyelashes, rather than cross.  “Interesting reading?”

“Hopefully, your future wife is in one of these files,” she said, shifting on her feet.

“May I?” the King gestured towards the chair across from her, and she nodded, waiting until he sat to reclaim her own seat, doing her best not to fidget.

When he didn’t speak, she ventured, “Was there something I could help you with?”

“Can you tell me a bit more about your process?”  He shifted slightly, just enough to telegraph that he was, possibly, as nervous and uncomfortable as she was.

“Of course!” she all but yelped, flushing again and tucking her hair behind her ears.  “My assistant, Mel, has compiled a list of potential women for the position.  As I get to know you we narrow that down until we have a manageable amount.  From there we conduct Skype interviews, filtering down further until we have our top several candidates, who will come to Gallifrey to meet you. From there, it’s up to you, really, and chemistry.”

The King nodded, looking deep in thought, and Rose waited with bated breath.  He seemed to be in a more introspective, considerate mood, and she hoped he might let something slip that would help.  “What do you need from me?”

“Sir?”

“What do you need to know?” he clarified.

She’d answered this already, the first time they met, but she didn’t mind repeating it.  “Anything that’s not available for public consumption.  I don’t need to know anything about the publicity version of you – I can Google that.  I’ve worked with many famous people, and they’re almost always different from how they are portrayed by the press.”

“I’m the king, I need to be what my people expect,” he said pointedly, but she refused to go on the defensive this time.

“That’s a role you play for ceremony and photo-ops and… fan encounters like at the fountain dedication.  I need to know you.  The real you.  The one who wears rock’n’roll t-shirts and saves the world when no one’s looking.”

For a fraction of a moment his lips twitched, and she considered that a point in her favor, not that she was keeping score.  “I’m not Superman.”

“Thank God, not sure you could pull off the tights,” she let slip out, before her eyes widened in horror.  “Sorry!”

To her surprise, though, he let out a bark of laughter.  “You’re probably right,” he agreed, chuckling, “though it might be worth trying to see the horrified look on my sister’s face.”

They laughed softly, and Rose let it trail off into silence.

“My life,” he started haltingly, “it’s… a different kind of normal.  In these circumstances, one must learn to be guarded, and careful.  I’ve been burned by putting my confidence in the wrong person one too many times.  You can understand my hesitation with trusting a complete stranger.”

“Well, tell me more about yourself so we’re not strangers,” she teased.  “Simple.”

“You first.”

Rose laughed, thought she cut herself off abruptly when he didn’t.  “Seriously?”

His expression didn’t change, and she swallowed.  “Okay.  Uh, my dad died when I was a baby, so it was just me and mum.  It wasn’t easy, but we made it work.  I was working in a shop when I was nineteen and one night, a gas line took out the building.  In desperation I took an immediate position as an assistant to the owner of a large matchmaking firm, learning the ropes on the fly and working my way up.  After six years I struck out on my own, and it’s been an adventure.”

 “It certainly sounds as such.”

The King didn’t continue, and she raised an eyebrow.  “Right, your turn,” she prompted.

He pursed his lips, leaning forward.  “My mother died eight years ago, my father last year.  Obviously.  My childhood was difficult as well, though not in the same way as yours.  Growing up in the spotlight can be painful – no one wants to read articles critiquing how their pubescent years are going.  Not that they were terribly cruel, but any comment can be devastating.  I shudder to think what it might have been like, in this era of social media.”

He paused, licking his lips, and refused to meet her eye when he continued.  “My mother became sick when I was seventeen, and though she beat it in a year, it sparked a need in me to know more about medicine, to help heal others as she was healed.  With her encouragement I studied medicine at Johns Hopkins, in the States.  I wanted to be totally anonymous, which I achieved there, and in the process gained the freedom to discover myself and my passions.”

“That’s how I felt,” Rose murmured.  “When I first got my own place, away from my mum, I felt like I really knew who I was for the first time.  It wasn’t easy, and sometimes I called her and went ‘how do I…’ et cetera, but I’m glad I did it.”

“Did she do her damnedest to make you feel guilty for it?”

“Yes!”

They shared another soft laugh, and Rose grinned.  “You should do that more.”

“What?”

“Laugh.”  And smile, she thought, watching his eyes brighten.  “It lights up your whole face.”

“As should you.”  An almost embarrassed expression crossed his face then, and he stood, the mood shifting abruptly.  “I’ve taken too much of your time on a Sunday.  Please forgive me.  Will I see you at dinner?”

Rose scrambled to her feet again, feeling whiplash from the sudden change.  “Yes, of course.  Really, though, you don’t have to go!”

“I’m afraid I must.  Thank you for your time.”

Not waiting for her to curtsey, he practically ran away, and Rose stood watching the door for a long minute after he was gone.

What just happened?

-

Ian fled the library, feeling a little absurd at being driven from a room in his own home, but mostly overwhelmed at the level of intimacy they’d just shared.

He’d never told anyone why he’d pursued medicine.  His family had certainly guessed along the way, but in twenty-three years he’d never actually said the words – until now.

What is she doing to me?

A dual cry of “Uncle Ian!” was the only warning he had before being tackled, his niece and nephew throwing themselves at his legs and nearly sending him flying onto his back.

He let out an undignified yelp, arms wind-milling in an effort to keep himself upright, not bothering to glare at his sister when she sniggered.

“Alright there?” she asked brightly, smirking, and he lowered his arms to cup the children’s heads, one in each palm.

Hampered by the little ears present, he resorted to sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes.  By now she’d well drilled him on behaving himself in front of them, wanting to show the twins a good sibling relationship.

Of course, it only made them drag each other harder when alone.

“Your face’ll freeze like that, and we’ll never find you a wife,” Donna warned, making him groan softly.

“You’re getting married?!” his niece gasped, pulling back to beam up at him, and he couldn’t help the softening of his heart at her wide, semi-toothless grin.

“Yes,” he told her, picking her up and settling her on his hip.  “If that’s alright with you, Princess Sophia.”

The little girl gave him an even stare, tapping one tiny painted nail against her chin in thought.  “Will she be my friend?”

“I hope so,” he answered truthfully, pressing his lips to the side of her head and inhaling.  “I hope you both like her,” he directed downwards, where Sebastian was still pressed against his leg.

“Okay,” his nephew said, popping his thumb in his mouth.  “Can we have biscuits?”

Ian threw his head back in laughter, the pressure in his chest releasing into a warm fondness for his family.  “I’m sure we can find some.”

-

Cosy mood lost, it didn’t take Rose long to pack up her things and return to the suite only to find Mel standing at the corkboard.

“What’s wrong?” Rose asked, dropping the files she held on a chair and walking towards her.

Two dozen or so pictures covered the edges now, connected by string to pins marking their home country.

Mel grimaced, the normally bubbly girl looking tense.  “I just got some bad news,” she worried her lower lip between her teeth.  “Reinette is away travelling.”

“No!”

Jeanne Poisson, Reinette to her friends, was French nobility and their tentative top choice.  “Can we-”

“I’m trying,” Mel promised, “but it’s up to chance now.”

Great.

-

An hour later Rose re-emerged from her bedroom with two distinct piles of folders.

“Success?” Mel asked hopefully, looking up from her laptop as Rose crossed to the corkboard, moving pictures around.

“From over a hundred potential candidates, we have narrowed it down to twenty in just under a week,” she said smugly, removing the photographs of the women she’d declared not right.  “That alone is an achievement; excellent work, Mel.”

“Thank you.”

Once the board was arranged to her satisfaction, they both stood back to stare at it.  “Right.  Next is Skype interviews – I know it’s short notice, but schedule as many as you can for tomorrow.  ‘Mrs. Right’ needs to be here no later than two weeks from today, ideally sooner.”

A knock on the door made them turn, only to see Princess Donna letting herself in.  “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Of course not Your Highness, please, come in.”  Rose hurried around the desk to clear one of the chairs, though the Princess remained standing.  “How can we help you?”

“I wanted to check on your progress, and see if I could be of any assistance.”

Rose and Mel exchanged glances.  “Things are going well,” Rose said brightly, hiding her hands behind her back and picking at her nails.  “We’ve narrowed the list to twenty, whom we expect to interview over Skype tomorrow.  After that our top choices will come to the palace for in-person interviews.  The final round is to interview them myself, then introduce them to the King. If all goes according to plan, your future Queen will be here in the next ten days.”

The Princess smiled, features relaxing.  “Wonderful.  Can I see your top candidate, please?”

Rose grimaced, hesitating only a moment before passing her a file.  “Technically, this is the top match.  Only we just learned earlier today that she is travelling, and we’re working on getting in touch with her.”

“French?”  The Princess wrinkled her nose, and Rose hid a smile at the honest reaction.

“Yes.  But as you can see, she’s a strong match to the King.”

She nodded slowly, flipping through the file before returning to the picture and staring.  “Well, you are the expert, so I will take your word for it. Just… whatever it takes.”

“Yes, Your Highness.  Thank you.”

Rose and Mel curtseyed together as the Princess left, before straightening up and staring at each other again.

“Now what?” Mel asked, and Rose’s teeth caught her bottom lip, worrying at it.

“Whatever it takes, I suppose.”