#enjoy this thing hehe

[spunkydash]

A young man stands in his bedroom

[keferon]

OKAY OH MY GOD THIS FIC IS GREAT I HAVE ONLY READ THREE AND A HALF CHAPTERS AND IM ALREADY IN LOVE

I originally wanted to make both of these pieces in color but I’m gonna be honest I have no fucking idea how to draw Ricochet…he is described as black and red and…mmhhmmm does he have canonical (canonical for this fic I mean) design? Do I need to design him myself? Idk I’ll figure this out later

[haunted-xander]

Who's the "real" me?

+ some references for the Rise-related things I included <3

[spielzeugkaiser]

I appear for one hot second with another self indulgent nostalgia piece! It's my birthday today, I'm now [redacted] years old and I'm reminiscing about the passage of time..

[yourangle-yuordevil]

Sooo I made Crowley's and Aziraphale's South Downs cottage in The Sims 4. Also made our two supernatual boys.

Here is Aziraphale Fell: bookworm, foodie and good. He wants to read ALL the books. Also Michael Sheen's face is so fucking hard to replicate

And here is Crowley, with and without glasses. I even found a mod for the tattoo! He is loyal, lazy and hot-headed. His aspiration is "soulmate" because he's a pathetic son of a bitch

And then their cottage! With a Bentley that's not really a Bentley but let's pretend it is.

Inside: ground floor floorplan and the entrance room.

Crowley has a greenhouse, obviously. There's a bench so Aziraphale can read there while Crowely takes care of the plants (*cough* shouts at them *cough*)

Their downstairs bathroom only has a bathtub because they don't use anything else.

And here is the living room! I tried to mix their styles a bit. It's mostly in the old fashioned, cozy vibe Aziraphale likes, but with a sprinkle of modern stuff more aligned with Crowley's taste. Lots of alcohol everywhere ofc

The kitchen has more of a modern vibe because I headcanon that it's Crowley that cooks most of the time. He says that it's because Aziraphale can't cook but it's because he likes to watch him eat the food he makes

Then we go upstairs! The bathroom here is the saddest and blandest bathroom because Crowley miracled it into existence when Maggie and Nina came over and were like "there's no toilet in your bathroom...?"

And the bedroom, more in a modern style because Crowley loves to sleep. There's also a vanity where Aziraphale puts on his creams and his things so he can be soft and pretty

And finally the last floor: Aziraphale's library!

Bonus picture of the ducks pond and the bench in the back garden

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[teddybeartoji]

thinking about burying your face into shoko's chest when the scary movie is getting a litte too scary during the usual sashisu get-together. suguru is acting all calm, (you know his heartbeat is racing, though. he's not as cool as he thinks) surpressing a little smirk while satoru is clutching onto his sweater for his dear life.

shoko isn't focused on the boys, nor is she focused on the tv screen that's filled with blood and guts – your scrunched up face being way more intriguing. she's trying to be smooth, trying to just catch a proper glimpse of you but it's hard without making a fuss. she needs to turn her head and she knows that's gonna get your attention; she doesn't want that. she wants to look at you without you looking back. she wants to study you and your face, you and you expressions, you and your birthmarks and you and your scars. she can't do that if you're staring up at her. she can't study you like that - she'll get distracted.

but c'mon, you're right there – one hand on her stomach, holding yourself up a little while the other is lost somewhere between your bodies. she has to look at you.

and she does. from what she can see, your face is in fact all scrunched up and it is in fact as adorable as she'd thought it'd be. your eyebrows are furrowed, eyes screwed shut as the screaming and yelling continues booming from the tv. your bottom lip is a little jutted out; shoko's lips twitch. so do her fingers.

her one hand is securely holding wine glass while the other... has somehow found its way to your back. for comfort, she thinks to herself. she didn't even realize it was there. instinct, she thinks to herself.

she leans back a mere inch, eager to see more of your pained face but that's when your eyes open; staring right back at her, you feel small. you feel flustered. she has that effect on you. the fingers on your back have now found a lock of hair, twirling the ends between her fingers; surely tainting you with the faint tobacco smell. you don't care.

"scared?" she whispers. her lips move so smoothly, the dark hue of them inviting you in. maroon; the mixture of her own lipstick and the wine - you wonder how she'd taste.

"maybe..." you whisper back. she hums quietly, trying not to attract attention from the boys a few feet away.

"aw..."

it's hard not to burn at her words, her small coo.

"what about you, hm?" you hum back and she can feel it; feel it start from the back of your throat and make its way through your body and then through hers. you're so close. "your heart is beating pretty fast. you sure you're not scared?"

...

it's not often you, or anybody else for that matter, is able to catch her off-guard. this is... new.

she just blinks down at you a few times, her pretty eyelashes fluttering against her soft pale skin. her lips part, yet nothing comes out. for about twenty seconds, it's just you and her. no blood, no gore, no tv, no boys, no noise, no nothing - only her eyes and your eyes. when your own lips quirk up, ready to bark out a tease at her - satoru screams, pulling your attention from her.

while suguru is muffling trying to muffle satoru's awful noises by slapping a palm in front of his mouth and you're trying to keep your laughter from bubbling up - shoko is still staring at you.

[coffeebanana]

The way the finale went down isn’t the ending a lot of people wanted—I get that, and I sympathize. But I really do believe that’s in part because it isn’t an ending.

And, frankly, I love the way this season finale went purely for selfish reasons.

The thing is, I honestly think that from a fandom POV, that’s so much better than having everything go the way we wanted or expected. I’m already so inspired to create things—to patch holes of things I didn’t get to see or hypothesize on how things will turn out. There’s debate on what the wish really means that I KNOW is going to manifest in some creative af world building in future fics I’ll get to read.

I know some people are contemplating leaving the fandom after this, but that was going to happen regardless of how the season went down. And I hope that some of those people still find a way to enjoy what the show has given them. I hope people realize it’s never too late to play with whatever ideas they may have.

I think this “ending” is unsettling on purpose. And I think so many cool things are going to be created because of that set-up.

I’m super duper excited okay?

[citycenters]

hey girl

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[kuromi-hoemie]

being like 5’2” - 5’4” is so attractive to me like omg ur head fits right under my chin and right in my tits ♡⁠ let me hold you. i love being a tall girl

[waterfallofspace]

Allergic To Concepts

Is anyone else still into the M/agnus Archives? Maybe, maybe not, but I have had this fic sitting in my google docs for months, and I just finally managed to get myself to finish up the last bit, so here is part one of a possible two part fic, if I can ever manage to get myself to write the next part!

So, if anyone wants, please enjoy a little Allergic to concepts Jon. aka, Jon is so allergic to dogs that just the idea of them gets him a bit worked up~

I'll never be over this podcast, and I might start sharing small (tiny) drabbles of these guys if anyone would be interested <3 or even just to start coaxing myself back into writing~

Characters: Jon, Martin, Tim, and Sasha Word Count: 2.7k

“-so to conclude, we absolutely, most certainly, cannot do that,” Martin finishes, hands woven into his hair. Seems to happen more often nowadays; getting a job you’re not exactly qualified for tends to bring on a touch of added stress. What brings even more stress, however, are the faces staring back at him, twin smiles painted across worryingly calm canvases. Seems once a poet, always a poet, even in your own thoughts. 

Tim chuckles, mischief running through his eyes. “How do you even know that? You been stalking our new boss?” 

“W-well no, it’s just that…” Martin starts, beginning to study the floor as his rambling starts to take over. “Well there may have been an… incident, of- of sorts, with a uh… well it was, I was trying to open this door, but see I was holding files, and there was this dog, and they kinda just- well I was trying to stop it but it got in and- so I went to Jon’s office and he was just kinda… and then I-” 

“So what?” Tim interrupts, mercifully saving Martin from his own tongue. “Why should his issues stop us from havin’ a good time?” With a snap of his fingers, Tim casts Sasha a devious wink. The colour seems to drain from Martin’s face as he holds up a shaking finger, aiming somewhere behind Tim’s shoulders. 

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Sasha mutters, her smile never wavering. 

Spinning on his heel, Tim turns to greet the newest arrival to the hallway. “Fancy seeing you here, boss! Burning the midday oil?” 

Jon pauses, papers nearly spilling from his crowded arms as he fumbles with some keys. “That’s not an expression. And what are you all doing cramped in the hall? Don’t any of you have work to do?” 

Martin nearly keels over as Jon’s glare settles against him, seemingly deeming him responsible for this lapse in progress. As if! In fact, he’d been the one begging them to get back to work. Honestly, Jon should appreciate the fact that he talked them out of-

“Actually, we’re thinking of heading off for the day,” Tim cuts in, leaving Martin’s mouth nearly hanging open. Had they not just gone over why this was a horrible idea? As if to answer his unspoken question, Sasha joins in with support for Tim’s cause. Martin’s pretty sure there’s actually a gap between his lips. 

Jon, having opened the office by this point, merely stops and stares. Seconds pass, though it feels more like minutes. There appears to be some sort of staring match between the three of them. 

Finally Jon breaks the silence with a short… well, it’s hard to call it a laugh, more like a huff. His posture tightens as he attempts to pull himself to his full height, casting Tim a wary glance. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Quite serious in fact! See, me and Sasha have been thinking,” Tim pauses, gesturing to the aforementioned with a sickly sweet smile. Merely performance charm, which given the eye-roll she shoots back, Sasha’s well aware of. “All of us here need a chance to bond.” 

“Bond, you say,” Jon’s monotone voice offers no insight to how he’s taking this suggestion. As Martin’s mouth begins to dry, his hands start working their way back into his hair. 

“Indeed!” Tim continues, seemingly oblivious to Martin’s rapidly increasing heart rate. “We’ve all been stuck here together, figured we should become more of a team, you know? A team-building exercise you could call it. Something to get us more on the same page.” 

“And what is this ‘team-building exercise’ you have in mind?” 

Well, his heart may have been racing before, but it’s not anymore. In fact, he’s almost entirely convinced it’s just stopped completely. Jon’s eyes meet his own, and Martin drops his gaze fast enough to leave him dizzy. 

This time Sasha speaks up, her coy tone doing nothing to alleviate the heart attack symptoms Martin’s now convinced he’s feeling. “An animal rescue cafe. They rescue dogs and cats, the ones that need rehoming, and bring them there so you can get to know them before you adopt. One opened just down the street from here, and me and Tim have been looking into going. We figured, might as well drag you and Martin along with us.” 

Jon’s glare narrows further, a single hand coming up to rest between his eyes. The movement is completed by pushing up his glasses with a sigh. “And how exactly does drinking tea in a room full of animals qualify as team building?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person from the way they treat animals,” Tim offers. “Not to mention the fact that there’s a whole study about how psychopaths are more likely to hate cats, which is mostly due to the fact cats have willful behaviour.” 

Martin can almost taste his heartbeat at this point, a fact he’s finding quite alarming. Still rummaging through papers, Jon steps into his office. Much to Martin’s chagrin, they all seem to be following him. 

“Are you suggesting someone working in this office is a psychopath, Tim?” Jon continues, huffing out another sigh as he notices the entourage entering his office. Jon’s glare lands on Martin once more, something he’s almost gotten used to at this point. 

Laughter begins to flow from Tim, Sasha joining in with a mild chuckle. “Of course not, but hey, this job’s all about researching things that probably aren’t true. Better safe than sorry, right?” 

Seemingly the only one noticing Jon’s growing apprehension, or maybe just the only one that cares, Martin can’t peel his eyes off their boss. Unaware of the scrutiny, though perhaps expecting it nonetheless, Jon pushes up his glasses again. Martin doesn’t miss the way he lets a single finger brush against his nose during this action. Nor do his eyes skip over the light scrunch forming at the bridge of said nose. 

Oblivious as always, Tim’s still going on about the cafe. Something about which animals are available, what tea they serve, scones, and more useless information. Sasha’s typing something in her phone, apparently fact checking his current ramblings. Still, all of that fades into the background as Martin’s attention is drawn to Jon once more. 

At first, he can’t figure out why he’s watching. Jon didn’t speak, and from his posture he hasn’t made any significant gestures. There doesn’t seem to be anything specifically that should have caught his eye, and yet-  

And then it happens again. Jon’s brows tighten, his eyes begin to flutter shut, and his lips part just enough for his tongue to peek out between them. There’s a beat of silence, then a single breathy inhale, barely noticeable above Tim’s monologuing. 

“ihh-” 

Just as quickly as it began, Jon crushes it back once more, a hand roughing swiping against his nose. There’s a quiet feeling of– perverse excitement as Martin watches him. Why? No earthly idea. It’s not as if there’s anything specifically… exciting about the action. There’s no physical stimulation beginning, to phrase it politely. 

Still, there’s something… almost electrifying, about bearing witness to a moment so personal and private. As if the only person in the room is Jon, and he’s opened the door for Martin to join him in his world. Which, as you think about it, just becomes more and more– creepy as hell! Damn it! 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Martin manages to peel his gaze away from Jon. Zoning back into Tim’s rambling, he just barely catches the tail end of a rant about different toppings on cinnamon buns. His silence was entirely unnoticed. Understandably, given only Tim had said anything in minutes. 

“Personally, I’m a fan of the regular cream cheese icing,” Martin offers, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Tim as another soft sniffle sounds behind him. The others don’t notice it, Sasha rolling her eyes as a light begins to dawn in Tim’s. 

“Well, interesting you say that Martin, they actually have those at the cafe down the street! Isn’t that such a wonderful coincidence?” Tim swirls his body towards Martin, casting a playful glance back at Jon as he continues. “Wouldn’t you like to stop by and get yourself one of those delicious buns?” 

Martin feels his face begin to pale again, and barely manages a meek, “W-well… I don’t need to… get one right now… but if you want-” 

Thankfully he’s saved from himself as a gasp sounds out from the desk. Everyone in the room turns, Martin included, just in time to see Jon duck into his wrist with a tight, “ih’nGXt–uih!” 

“Bless you!” Sasha calls, Tim and Martin echoing the sentiment. A flush begins to spread over Jon’s cheeks, but it’s brushed off as he waves a hand, continuing to scribble on some papers. Casting a glance over to Tim, Martin sighs as the mischief floods the other man's face. He’s very clearly not letting this go. 

“Was that actually a sneeze?” Tim laughs, mimicking the sound as Sasha suppresses a giggle. 

Jon keeps his head down, pen still moving across the paper in disjointed movements. “It was in fact a sneeze, yes. Happens to everyone from time to time, no need to make a big deal out of it. Now, I believe you were going to a cat and do- hiHh! rescue cafe?” 

The hitch manages to escape from Jon’s tight grip, his posture shuddering slightly with the force of continuing the sentence. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Martin that just the word dog seems to leave him breathless. 

“A dog cafe, yeah! You’re coming too, right boss? Come see all the adorable little puppies?” Tim offers, gesturing towards the door. Apparently it didn’t go unnoticed by him either. 

An audible gasp sounds out, and all eyes turn back to the rapidly hitching boss. Jon manages to stifle the first one almost silently, only a rush of breath escaping at the end. 

“Bless you, boss.” 

Jon waves a hand, wiping away the water beginning to flood his eyes. “Was just sihh… sighing, Tim.” He finishes the statement with another stifle, this time his whole body jerks along with the rough exhale.  

“Really? Because that sounded like another sneeze,” Tim taunts, poking a finger towards Jon’s face. “And given the way your nose is twitching, you seem far from done.” 

Jon seems to consider debating, but another frantic hitch decides it for him. Giving up the ruse, he ducks into his shoulder with another, “eh’tNGxt–uh! ih’NTchhuh!”  

“Bless yo-” 

“eH’DGZSHhh –uu!”  The volume makes everyone jump, seeming to surprise even Jon. 

“Oh- mby apologies, I seeb to be… hiehh–” Jon trails off, one hand frantically searching for a tissue, nose visibly trembling behind the other. In a move of uncharacteristic pity, Tim pushes the box within reach. Jon mumbles out a thank you, before swinging his chair around for a touch of privacy. 

The silence is almost deafening, cut up only by the rustling of fabric as Jon attempts to subdue the onslaught. “eh’nGNt –oo!” And fails miserably. 

“Do- maybe do you want… well possibly we should, actually I think you might- I mean he might want–” Desperately trying to find a way to fill the space, Martin rambles on, gaze bouncing between all three of his coworkers.

“Martin,” Jon cuts him off, “just say it.” 

The annoyance Martin’s come to expect seems unaffected by the breathy quality of Jon’s words. Unless you notice the flushed nature of his ears, which… is kinda hard to miss when his nose is starting to match. 

“S-sorry! I just figured you may want a touch of uh… privacy..? You seem… itchy,” Martin offers, already beginning to back out of the room. 

Jon glares, lining up a retort before pausing as the first syllable comes out muffled with congestion. A sharp sniff and quick rub later, he continues in an easier tone. “I’m quite alright. No need for such concerns.” 

“I mean- If… if you’re sure…” 

Tim interrupts this time, draping an arm across Martin’s back. “You heard the boss, he’s fine. Now, onto that cafe?” 

Before Martin can get a word out, Jon stands from his chair, dropping the tissues in the wastebasket next to his desk. Sasha chuckles out her approval, sticking her phone into a pocket and beginning to exit the office. Tim follows suit, leaving Martin standing alone with Jon. 

There’s a beat of silence, Martin watching, horrified, as his body refuses to move an inch, silently waiting for Jon’s approval. 

“Well?” 

It’s not exactly an invitation, but it’s more than enough to send Martin scrambling for the door, muttering more sheepish apologies under his breath. If Jon heard them, he gave no indication, busy rustling through a desk drawer. A few more muffled stifles make their way through the noise, no indication given they were heard either. 

As Martin makes it into the hallway, he catches Tim waving from the door. He’s propping it open with one foot as Sasha waits outside, once again on her phone. Martin waves back his acknowledgement, before gesturing towards the kitchen. Tim simply shrugs, calling something about ‘not waiting around’, before joining Sasha in the crisp autumn air. 

Making his way back to the kitchen, Martin pauses at Jon’s door. He’s not eavesdropping, just… listening in, to see if Jon’s alright. It’s his boss after all, and he’s an assistant! He’s supposed to… assist! Perfectly natural thing to do, isn’t it? 

A harsh double pulls him from his spiralling, Jon’s voice coming through audibly in the groan that follows. Alright, enough listening in, this is starting to feel more creepy than curious. 

With what little confidence he can muster, Martin works his way through his plan. The mugs are where they always are, but the water in the kettle was a bit more cold than a proper cup of tea would allow. Flipping the switch, Martin began heating it, and hurried out of the kitchen to his desk. He picks out a fairly bland tea, Jon seems the bland type… right? 

Another few sneezes sound out from the boss’s office, and Martin almost starts to feel guilty for still being in the office. It’s obvious Jon assumes he’s alone, if not from the sneezes themselves, from the groans that come after them. Ever the stickler for a Professional Appearance, he’d never allow himself to be seen or heard in such a state willingly. 

The kettle sounding pulls Martin from his thoughts once more, and he pours the water over the tea bag. Moving carefully, as not to spill, he makes his way back to Jon’s office, knocking softly on the door. 

“Yes?” The reply is sharp, a frantic sounding shuffling occurring as Martin begins to slide open the door. 

“Hey, yeah sorry I just- you sounded like… I just thought that maybe you’d want… you might need some…” 

“Spit it out, Martin,” Jon sighs, giving his nose a subtle swipe. Unfortunately for him, this seems to have been the wrong choice. His nose twitches, eyes beginning to unfocus, and Martin finds himself pausing for the interruption. At least, until Jon gestures at him to continue. 

“Well, I just ma-” 

“ih’tNGT–uu!” 

“Bless you. I just made you some tea, it seemed you cou-” 

“hHUh’dNT–uh!” There’s a pause, Jon’s breath catching dramatically, before he swivels around in the chair and aims a harsh, “eH’dZSHH– eih’DSCHhhh–oo!” at the fistful of tissues he managed to grab. 

It wasn’t exactly quiet, and Martin finds himself flinching against the noise, but holds it together as he places the mug on Jon’s desk, hurrying through the rest of his sentence. 

“Seemed you could use some tea, bless you again by the way, anyways I’m gonna head off with Sasha and Tim, I’ll see you there I guess! Or, well- not just me, we’ll all see you there, as a group, if you choose to come that is! Which of course you don’t have to, though we’d lik-” 

“Martdin,” Jon, mercifully, cuts him off, congestion seeping through his words. With a deep sigh, he finishes his sentence. “Thagnk you. You mbay go ndow.” 

Taking the out, Martin gives one last nervous smile, sliding out into the hallway. Another desperate sneeze leaves him wincing, Jon’s vocal groan sounding out yet again. The poor guy sounds miserable, and Martin almost considers going back in and telling him not to come. If he’s this bad from just the thought… well… 

But he’s embarrassed himself enough for the day, and, albeit hesitantly, Martin heads off to meet Tim and Sasha at the cafe.

[fatedroses]

When a test of a prince's taste backfires horribly. Or, how Alisaie gave herself psychic damage for not realizing this man may not act like how she imagines and she's suddenly being thanked for giving the worst food on the star to him.

(or, even, indirectly giving Meteor and Tsukiko psychic damage as Meteor refuses to let Zenos eat that god forsaken bread and has to hold him back like a misbehaving cat away from it.)

[minas-linkverse]

Woah, do you go straight from rough sketches to lineart?

Haha yea, it's my secret evil power!!

I dont rly like sketching so I practised years to make sure I dont rly have to! It may be unconventional but it works great for me. Art should be fun! If smth isn't fun you can probably skip it somehow. 👍

My youtube channel has some vids of my process.

[greyspirehollow]

Bound. For... Science. [Request]

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x gn! reader

Fandom : The Arcana visual novel

Warnings : brief depiction of scientific stuff ; fluff

Summary : Could you have imagined that the scary and mysterious Quaestor Valdemar would become the person you see on a daily basis? Probably not. You even have a surprise for them...

They didn't pay much attention to you at first. Nor did you pay much attention to them. If you were honest with yourself, you probably couldn't have seen it coming. Once they started looking into your general direction however, you couldn't be any more nervous. You can't exactly remember how or when it started, but they had crept up on you so many times that you couldn't keep count anymore. Good thing your heart wasn't too jumpy (to their greatest disappointment).

You were minding your own business in the library, devouring a tome written by probably your favorite scientist : the genius who is Wilfried Magnes, an eminent biologist who had just published the third part of his theory on the evolution of species, this volume being dedicated to camouflages. You were so absorbed by the author's words that Valdemar had to clear their throat to get your attention. Your head whipped around at the sound, and you let out a relieved sigh. You were about to speak but they interrupted you : "Come. I would like to show you something..." and with that, they tugged three books out of the library's bookshelf, opening a secret passage. Your eyes widened as they grinned. Oh they were going to have fun scaring the sweet heavens out of you. You reluctantly closed your book, tucked it under your arm and went down with them.

You'd half expected the elevator to just give up and drive you both down to your respective deaths, but it seemed to be holding itself together. And that is the days you reached Valdemar's dungeons. They looked... Undeniably giddy. It was fun to scare mortals after all. And well... You didn't feel... the best. You hesitantly followed them, the strong smell of blood and iron hitting your nostrils, making your nose scrunch and a discreet cough escape you. And they seemed unfazed, inhaling the dungeon's scent blissfully. The more steps you took forward, the less you were sure you'd come out of this alive. You two then reached the main hall, operation tables lined across the walls and seemingly frozen in time since the last time they were used. Your eyebrows knitted in worry, your gaze falling onto Valdemar who had a wide, sharp-toothy grin on full display. "This-" they gestured around "-is *my* haven. The heart of all my works, where lies the remains of the most unspeakable procedures one can think of. Feast your eyes, maybe this is, who knows... the last thing you'll see~" your heart thumped violently against your ribs, and your eyes couldn't look away from- oh, what was that?

Your gaze landed on something behind them, in the faint distance : a shelf, upon which rested various things, but it is the white spot that caught your attention. You gasped, and it is as if all your fears... vanished. Wiped out in a snap of fingers. You excitedly walked over to the shelf, put your book aside, and took the human skull in your hands. "Gods, that's a beautiful specimen!" you exclaimed "how did you manage to extract it- i-it's in perfect condition ! what did you use to clean it? no don't tell me- let me guess- uh hydrogen peroxide* ? or did you clean it by hand?? Who- no wait ; I think it's... it's definitely a man's, and I'd say in their... in their 40's? something? did you-" you interrupted yourself with another gasp as you spotted the wet specimen of a heart sitting on the shelf. You carefully put the skull down "wait wait wait- you do not have a heart contaminated by a dark magical parasite- you do !!! How did you even get your hands on that ?? How did you remove it without getting- no way, you have- NO, stop it-" then your hands reached for a small closed test tube "you do not have a sample of a necromancer's magical decay !!! Where the hell do you even go to get that ?!" you gasped and picked up and examined specimen after specimen, object after object, rambling aloud. Valdemar could only watch with utter confusion as you rummaged excitedly through the shelf, all giddy. But soon, they grinned ; they seemed genuinely excited at the idea of explaining each and every single procedure they went through for each item, and so they went to stand by your side as they started rambling themselves. Your excitement was contagious - mainly because they didn't exactly have anyone else to share their passion with. And so when they started to go on about every recent experiment they'd done you clasped your hands together, looked them in the eyes, and said, determined : "teach me."

And that's when you became Quaestor Valdemar's apprentice. You two would spend most of your time in the dungeons, and at times you would giggle excitedly when performing a dissection with them, or when you found something exciting. Ah, science. Wonderful science. The word got around eventually, when people saw you practically live at the Palace and with your very own labcoat, gloves and apron. Countess Nadia eventually gave you one of the guest rooms to reside in, and that's basically when your new life began. At times, you would conduct experiments of your own in your basement. You did it before you'd met Valdemar, but now that you had a person to show your work to, one can say you'd become productive. You had obviously endlessly rambled about Magnes' theories of evolution to them, and they happily reflected upon it with you. The Quaestor had even brought up a few names they knew, and well, despite being somewhat outdated (and for some proven wrong and so put a little on the side in scientific history), and when I mean outdated I do mean dating at least a millenia back, you had heard of or read about some. Sometimes you would pester them with tons of questions about the scientific breakthroughs and theories of their own epoch, and they did reluctantly reply to some of them, despite your unquenchable thirst for every piece of knowledge you could get your hands on (the mind of a great scientist).

You loved the time you spent with them. But there was one thing you were particularly excited about... You hadn't told them yet. You'd simply mentioned how it would be nice to go for a simple walk in the streets of Vesuvia, enjoy the sunlight and the fresh air -because as much as you liked the dungeons and your basement, you didn't exactly appreciate the smell down there, unlike them- and to your surprise, they'd agreed. You'd reserved your places in advance, thankfully, because you knew that despite being relatively niche still, it was nonetheless booked by all the other scientists of the city. And of neighboring cities. And countries. Now that you thought about it- the scientific field was a rather closed circle, but people really came from everywhere. Anyways. As D-day approached, you couldn't help but feel both excited and anxious. Valdemar seemed to have noticed : you were talking a lot faster than usual, and your movements were a bit less organized than they usually were. You'd always dismissed it, saying it was only 'seasonal'. Not sure how you could prove that to them, but they didn't question you further. When the day finally came, you were absolutely restless. You laid there in your bed, it was probably... 3 AM. And you were successively falling asleep and waking up by periods of thirty minutes. Gods, this was torture... You tried tiring your eyes by reading Magnes, and... It worked, actually. You sighed as you finally managed to sleep through a few more hours before sunrise.

But once you did wake up for good... Oh you were worse than a grasshoper. You couldn't even focus on the experiment with Valdemar- you couldn't even stay sitting for more than two seconds. When the clock struck noon, you agitated even more, insisting that you and them go on that walk in Vesuvia NOW. They initially resisted, but their patience ran thinner and thinner with your insistence. "fine, FINE ! We'll go on that stupid walk!" they said, irritated. If you were honest with yourself, you would've dragged them by the horns if they'd continued to refuse. They sighed, annoyed, as you gripped their arm and pulled them out of the dungeon. Valdemar knew something was up. No human -especially not you- was so excited about a walk in the streets. You were definitely up to something, and they didn't like the fact that they didn't know what it was. But your (nearly feral) eagerness did ease a bit of their concern : it was entertaining to see you so jumpy. You'd not talked about anything scientific on the way to your... surprise. You were afraid that you might accidentally spill the beans. And you wanted it to remain the most surprise it could be. You both walked the busy streets of Vesuvia, the sun hitting your labcoats, reminding you that they were actually a clear color, nearly white, making you squint your eyes every time you glanced at Valdemar. Now that they thought about it... They weren't exactly used to the outdoors. They haven't been recently, anyway. It was nice to feel the warm sun on the skin of their face again... They allowed themselves a small smile behind their mask.

After what felt like endless turns, you smiled with undeniable joy as you both reached your destination. You walked a few steps ahead of them and cheerfully announced : "Tadaaa ! Welcome to the Third Edition of Vesuvia's annual Scientific Exhibition !!", with a wide and toothy smile. Valdemar's eyes widened slightly. They'd never heard of this event before... They looked at the building which hosted it, and the crowd of what were definitely scientists -or at least curious souls- lined up at the entrance, the sun hitting the bright red of the laid out carpet and the banners on the walls, embroided with the event's symbol. You excitedly waited for their reaction. They smiled and looked back at you "ooh, so that's what you were all jumpy about..." you chuckled, slightly embarrassed "I really wanted it to be a surprise..." you said sheepishly. They hummed : "well, that is definitely a pleasant surprise... Shall we go in?" You nodded eagerly as you went to wait in line with them. They struck conversation as you both waited :

"What does... what happens there, if I may ask?

-Well, it is an event that allows scientists of all backgrounds to come and show off either their discoveries or their handiwork. There are also often books and manuals being sold, as well as materials and products -ouh, I could definitely use a few brand new scalpels- but there can also be specimens. Last year I've seen reconstruction of animal skeletons, things like that.

-My, that is most interesting... *they replied, their eyes sparkling with interest* I do hope this will be a fruitful experience.

-Oh, it most definitely will!

-How come I have not been informed of such event? You said it was annual?

-Well, it's still very niche, and not many people outside the scientific field know about it.

-But the Countess must've known, no? Third edition- meaning this is the third year they're doing this. Ooh, or maybe it was put on hold during the years of the Plague... Meaning it was Lucio who-... Hm. He most definitely wouldn't have told me. He must've said yes for the event to be hosted without even giving it proper attention. Tsk.

*you chuckled*

-Well, now we're here, and I'm pretty sure the Countess will give the exhibition a bit more care and attention from now on..."

You both arrived at the reception, and the man behind the desk looked up to both of you "Ah, greetings, Misters.. Misses...?"

"Doctor." you both replied at the same time, on a nearly identical tone. The receptionist raised an eyebrow and blinked, before reading over his list "hm.. Ah yes ! I do have two Doctors : Dr. Y/N and Dr. Valdemar?" you beamed "that is us!" the receptionist nodded and handed you a quill "I'm just going to need you both yo sign here..." and you both did. The man bid you a good visit and you both walked into the building, excited to see what would the exhibition hold for your curious eyes. Valdemar had noticed the little paper at the entrance, and decided to tease you about it : "You didn't take the couple's discount?" you briefly froze in your tracks and stammered "wh- uhm I didnt- I ju- uh... Should I have?" They laughed "No, I just thought maybe you could've spared a little bit of money... Those places were expensive, no?" your cheeks reddened and you frowned "don't worry about that- Let us enjoy science!!" They nodded and followed you through the building.

And the event did NOT disappoint. You went from person to person, lingering on some more interesting than others. you bought supplies, both for the dungeons and for your own little experiments at home, and you and Valdemar spent a copious amount of time with a surgeon, Dr. Milestone, who had successfully extracted a whole human nervous system, which was on full display under a glass protection for you to admire. Both of you swarmed him with questions, undoubtedly interested. Maybe you had even... Intimidated him somewhat. If it weren't for the exhibition's most interesting part, you would probably have spent a lot more time with him. You both walked into a separate room, which was basically a small amphitheater, and when you sat down, an auction began. There were various specimens -live or dead- being sold, but you hadn't managed to get your hands on any, despite the juicy offer of an amnesic brain and two hundred coins for a complete collection of the tools of the late scientist Oscar McArthy, a reference in the world of science... But that was a very little loss compared to the amazing afternoon you spent with Quaestor Valdemar. And they seemed to be thinking the same thing. However, around 5PM, you'd lost them in the crowd. Unable to catch a glimpse of them, you went and waited by the entrance, thinking it would be the most logical thing to do. They appeared again around half an hour later, and before you could scold them, they apologized, and you weren't so upset anymore.

Eventually, you both returned to the Palace around the evening. You didn't head straight for the dungeons however... Your legs felt weak and all the excitement, all the attention and focus you gave the exhibition had drained you. You let yourself slump down onto the couch of one of the drawing rooms with a groan, already feeling your eyelids begin to weight and threaten to close. Valdemar only chuckled at the sight "Can I at least sit down, too?" you briefly sat up "oh- yes, sure.. sorry" and made room for them. But as soon as they sat down, they grabbed a pillow, placed it on their lap and patted it gently. Your eyes widened at the invitation, and before you could wonder why they'd even done that, they said : "it's the least I can do for such a wonderful afternoon.". You didn't need to be told twice. Your head slumped down on the pillow on their lap and your eyes closed with a comfortable sigh.

It's not before they were sure that you were knocked out asleep that they started gently running their fingers through your hair...

*nota bene : I am in no way a scientist, so I may give inaccurate depictions of certain elements in the story.

Bonus !!______________________________

The following day, around breakfast, Valdemar came up to you : "I didn't have time to give you that yesterday - you were pretty tired." they handed you your copy of Magnes' theory on camouflage and you raised an eyebrow "what do you mean? I hadn't lost it..." you opened it and your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets- there, on the first page, was a handwritten dedication :

"Y/N, may your thirst for science and knowledge never quench"

-W. Magnes

"you.... when did you ...?" your voice squeaked as you stood up from your seat. Valdemar only smiled smugly. "He was surrounded by quite the crowd... We didn't even notice him, near the auction room. But I did manage to capture his attention briefly." You didn't even question how they'd gotten the book -since you were pretty sure you'd left it at the Palace- or the fact you missed the chance to see your favorite scientist, you were nearly crying, this was just so sweet of them to do-

You nearly knocked them off their feet with the force of your hug "oooowhhh, Valdemar !!" you squeaked out "there there, it's nothing." they said, patting your back, seemingly amused "I could kiss you-" you said. "ah- maybe not for such a futile favor?" the replied, a little embarrassed. You didn't care, but if they didn't want to be kissed, you wouldn't kiss. But you wouldn't let go of them either.

"Y/N, will you let me go now, it's roughly been three hours-"

[hugs-and-stabbies]

Do you think Michael's eyes get wide like a cat's when he's about to kill someone? With the mask off of course. And what would Jake's reaction be to it?

if it's the first time Jake saw it im not sure he would know what to make of it besides being unsettled lol the original ask is super old lol and probably keeping up with [this post] about Michael being like a cat hahah