#fountain pen sans

[roadkill-creatures]

[pigeonstab]

Hey Cole, if you're a Ink Sans, you still can use abilities like paint magic, communication with creators, summoning your paint brush and stuff?

[finelinevogue]

Hi babe! I absolutely love your work and read it everyday! Do you think you could do a blurb where its aaron x bau reader and the reader has a toxic/abusive family and hotch and the team find out about it on a case or something (angst but turns into fluff)? I LOVE YOUUU!!!

family is everything

hiya my lovely!! love you too :(( oh stop you’re far too kind omg 🥺 of course i can give this a go - hurt/comfort fics >>>

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau!reader

word count - +5.4k

cw: pre-established relationship, bad coping methods, mentions of childhood abuse, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Spencer was performing one of his magic tricks.

He had captivated the audience of more than half of the room, much to Hotch’s dismay.

“And this gets you girls?” Morgan questioned, perched on the corner of the desk adjacent to Spencer - which happened to be yours. “How?!”

You laughed along with the others as you spun yourself side-to-side in your office chair.

“It’s all in the mystery, my sweet one.” Garcia pinched Morgan’s cheeks. She was the only one who could get away with it.

“Oh I can do mystery.” Morgan added.

“But can you do… magic?” Reid asked as he ended the magic trick by holding out the correct card that Morgan had picked earlier.

“What?!”

“Yes Reid!”

“Pfft.. Whatever.”

Everyone started clearing away from Spencer’s desk, Morgan walking away with a sulk. Garcia lingered by Morgan’s desk no doubt attempting to cheer him up with her endless flirting.

When you’d joined the BAU you had seriously thought they were together.

Why wouldn’t you?

They constantly flirt. They’re almost crude with each other. Yet they had never even entertained the idea of being with each other.

It didn’t matter to you whether they were single or not though, because your heart was slowly being given over to someone else. Someone who happened to be your Unit Chief; Aaron Hotchner.

The relationship was still very new.

Your team knew about it, but it was still being kept quiet. That was just you and Aaron, though. You didn’t feel the need to be flashy with your relationship. In fact, you enjoyed living with each other in those quieter moments because it meant you had each other all to yourself.

It was that moment that you found yourself looking up to his office.

Aaron happened to walk out of his office at that exact moment, reading a case file in his hands.

You bit down on the pen you were holding as you watched him walk past, eyeing him up because you could now without consequence.

Aaron didn’t return the look but you did notice the smirk as he walked down the ramp towards the briefing room. It was like he could tell that you were looking at him. That made you smile, turning around in your chair to hide the blush from anyone.

"Think we've got a case?" Reid asked you.

"Probably. It's been at least two days since our last."

Both you and Reid stand up, prompting the others on your team to do the same. You as a team of profilers had gotten so used to what it looked like before a case was briefed that you just knew now, before JJ could even call you in.

JJ, Hotch and Rossi are all in the room already.

The case files were set out on the table - one at each seat. JJ had the screen set up ready to present and Hotch and Rossi were already looking through their files.

You sat down on the chair next to Hotch. They had kind of become your unofficial assigned seats.

"Okay JJ." Hotch nodded.

"We got a call from San Fransisco Police Department after a string of murders have been loosely tied together."

"Loosely?" Emily questioned.

"Several domestic abuse victims have been found murdered. Isla Hubert was strangled, Beth Fountain stabbed and Meredith Cole shot."

JJ flicked through the pictures of the women and you could feel your face go pale at the sight.

Your breathing hitched, but luckily nobody noticed.

Your hands scrunched up into fists so tight that your nails were digging into the skin of your palm. It was the only way to cope with this situation without drawing attention to yourself.

You focused as much on JJ presenting as possible.

"At first it was hard for the police to put them together since M.O.s were so different with each murder - hence, loosely - but after they looked more closely it turns out that each of the victims had recently left an abusive relationship."

"Suggests a possible revenge-motivated unsub." Reid added.

"Yeah." JJ nodded.

"How did the PD make the connection?" Morgan asked.

"All of the victims were women who had either filed restraining orders and, or had sought help from a domestic violence shelter." JJ switched the image on the screen to the shelter.

You looked down at your lap, your fists still enclosed.

You were normally very collected when cases were presented, but it was really hard with this one.

Not only is San Fransisco the city you grew up in, it also hosted that very domestic violence shelter that you used to go to every day.

It made you feel sick, because had this unsub been around ten years ago then that could have very well been you up there on the presenting screen.

<.><.>

You were gathering your stuff up on your desk when Aaron came over to you.

"Hey." You tried to smile but Aaron knew you better.

"Something's bothering you, so rather than have me tiptoeing around it I'm asking you to tell me what's wrong."

He sure doesn't beat around the bush.

Even though this case is horrendous for you, it did warm your heart a little to know that Aaron knew you so well only after a couple months of dating. Maybe it was the profiler in him, but you chose to believe it was simply because he cared about you.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Every man should know that when a woman says she's fine... she's not. Aaron did know that but he also knew not to push it right now.

"Okay."

After you stuffed your water bottle in your bag, Aaron caught your hand with his. He carefully opened your palm. You could feel the panic in your chest as he did so.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

He pointed out the crescent moon shapes you'd imprinted on your palms from your finger nails. He wiped his thumb over the skin as if they would magically just disappear. He probably wanted to kiss over them, but you knew he'd never do that in front of everyone here.

You couldn't answer verbally so you nodded your head instead.

<.><.>

Rossi and Hotch were the last in the room before leaving.

They both left and locked their offices at the same time. Both of them had their coat and bag hanging off an arm.

"Hotch."

"Yeah?"

"Y/N..."

"I know." Hotch cut his friend off before he could finish the sentence, already having an inkling of what he was going to say and not knowing whether her could stomach hearing it being said out loud.

<.><.>

On the plane there was more time for a brief.

You were sat leaning against a window at the table with four chairs, listening carefully to what was being said but making no effort to contribute.

"So there were no signs of sexual assault?" Emily asked.

"No." JJ shook her head.

"Well that eliminates some motives." Rossi said.

"Such as?" Garcia asked through the video call.

"Well we know he's not a sexual sadist now. It's almost like whatever he is doing is because he believes it's right. It's the only way." Reid explained.

You swallowed back the growing lump in the back of your throat as the team continued to talk.

The situation almost felt dissociative. You were physically here and physically involved and yet your brain kept trying to zone out of the conversation.

You looked out the window just as a memory flashed.

You laid on the floor of your bedroom - a room that was supposed to be yours and supposed to be safe. You had been sleeping when he had come in.

The door was wide open because you hadn't found the strength to stand back up again since he'd been in.

Your pyjamas were long length and yet you felt completely exposed. Tears fell down your cheeks as you stared up at the glowing stars on your ceiling, imagining a world where you could visit them right now. A world that was a little more silent and a little bit brighter.

All you could hear though was his voice saying, "I have to. It's the only way you'll ever learn."

"...And Y/N and Reid, you work on the geographical profile. Hopefully we can narrow down where these victims are being taken from." Hotch's voice brought you back from the memory.

You had clearly missed a lot of the conversation but no one pointed that out for the rest of the flight.

<.><.>

San Fransisco was just as dull as you remember it.

A lot of people who lived here, commuted through here or even visited here would think quite the opposite, but when a bad thing has happened to you in a certain place then that place becomes unworthy of its beauty.

As you continued to get set up in the police station Hotch asked you to step aside for a minute to talk to him.

You both stood in the cold and dark interrogation room so you could speak privately.

Your arms were folded over your body defensively as you stood waiting for Hotch to talk.

"Y/N, if this case it too much for you then..."

"Too much?" You chuckled, "Why would it be too much for me?"

Hotch sighed, "I don't know."

"Exactly Agent Hotchner, you don't know." You uncrossed your arms and walked towards the door - done with this conversation.

Aaron knew not to touch you in order to catch your attention, so instead he stepped in front of the door so you had no exit.

"Hey, don't do that." He said softly and you knew he was referring to the way you had called his name.

He had never really been Agent Hotchner, or SSA Hotchner, to you. He'd only been Aaron or recently in the quiet of your homes it had turned into a loving 'honey' or 'love'.

You could see the hurt in his eyes that you had put there.

"I'm fine." You repeated, feeling like you might be sick over saying those words again and again.

You thought you truly had been fine.

For the longest time all of this had been buried deep within you. Your job was so busy and hectic that you never really had the opportunity to think about your past. You had also been fortunate that there had been no domestic abuse cases so far in your year working for the BAU.

Yet it was all flooding back now you did have this case. Your mind was constantly active with the haunted memories of your past.

Memories that you were too afraid to speak out loud.

"Okay, but if I think for a moment that you aren't capable I will pull you from this case." Hotch said seriously. He was done playing nice.

"That won't be necessary. I am more than capable."

Hotch looked at you for a moment and saw the challenge in your eyes. However, he could also see the emotion deep within them like there was a part of you that was screaming to be let out.

"Morgan and I are going to the women's shelter. You and Emily can interview the families of the victims."

Your heart stopped a little. You're sure that your eyes must have given you away as you lost eye contact with Hotch to try and keep composure.

"I thought I was with Reid?" You asked.

"Not anymore. Families are coming in in half an hour." He said before leaving the room, leaving you in there with the door open.

"Fuck." You muttered to yourself.

You wiped under your eyes before any tears could run. Messy mascara wasn't something you wanted to explain today. You let out a shaky breath, trying to not let it sound too loud. The last thing you wanted was to attract unnecessary attention.

You were fine, after all.

<.><.>

"Mr and Mrs Cole. Thank you for being here." Emily started off the interview.

Mrs Cole was crying. Mr Cole was not.

In your eyes that told you everything you needed to know. Unfortunately you couldn't claim you knew anything without sufficient evidence. Evidence that the team was looking for now.

"I can't believe my baby is gone." Mrs Cole cried, sniffling into a tissue that you had provided for her.

"I know this is hard Mrs Cole," You said, empathising with her more than she could know, "But if you could both help us answer some questions it could be really helpful in helping find out who did this to your daughter."

"Okay." She nodded.

"What kind of person was Meredith growing up?" Emily asked, wanting to know what kind of childhood Meredith had.

"She was always so bright. She just wanted to be happy." Mrs Cole answered shakily.

Mr Cole scoffed and looked off to the side.

"Something to add Mr Cole?" Emily prompted.

"What my wife means to say is, Meredith was difficult."

Your mind alerted you then. You knew what was meant for a daughter who was deemed as difficult by her father.

Your fingers clenched to dig your nails into your palm but the second you did Aaron's face came across your view.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

You could still feel the brush of his thumb across your skin. His warms hands against your cold ones. His soft touch the lightest you had ever felt from a man.

Your hand unclenched, resting them on the table instead.

Emily had been carefully watching you, having been asked by Hotch to keep on eye on you. Your near slip-up didn't cause any interruption to the interview and Emily took the lead to continue.

"We understand that Meredith recently left her relationship with Adam. Do you know why?" She asked.

Mrs Cole looked nervously at her husband.

He huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest, "She was always so dramatic. I mean, every couple fights but that doesn’t mean you throw everything away."

You took note of how Mr Cole minimised the abuse that Meredith was clearly receiving.

"Did Meredith ever tell you that Adam hurt her?" You asked.

Mrs Cole sniffled but it was Mr Cole that answered, "She exaggerated things."

"So you’re saying she lied?" You prompted, seeing how twitchy Mr Cole was getting in the metal chair.

"She always wanted attention." He said.

That's what they all say but really the attention was just another way of saying they were looking for somebody to give them a way out. They were desperate for someone to see them and know that they weren't safe - that they needed saving.

Lots of women can't save themselves and the ones that do are never safe again.

"Did she ever come to either of you for help?" Emily asked.

Mrs Cole nodded, "She… Meredith wanted to leave so many times, but she didn’t think she could. She was scared."

"Scared of him?" Emily said encouragingly.

It was only a small gesture but both you and Emily caught the small glance that Mrs Cole gave her husband.

If it wasn't clear to you before then it was ridiculously clear now what had happened.

"Of everything."

"Or scared that no one would believe her?" You muttered to Emily. She nodded in agreement.

Mr Cole must have heard though because he angrily slammed his hands on to the table. It took absolutely everything in your professional career to not flinch. The loud noise caused your heartbeat to skyrocket.

This is not him. This is not before. You kept reminding yourself.

"What exactly are you implying?" He shouted defensively.

"Robert..." Mrs Cole tried to calm him.

"No! What are you saying?"

You and Emily looked at each other and you gave her a nod to signal she could continue this, even though it was you that taunted him.

"Mr Cole. When your daughter was younger, was she ever worried about her current or future. relationships?"

"I raised her to be tough. Not weak." He spat.

You were curled up in a ball on your bed. The room stank of ammonia thanks to your nervous tics and the fact he had walked through the door angrily.

You had run away from an argument downstairs but he had caught up to you.

"You need to learn to be tough, child. I didn't raise you to be this weak."

The room went quiet for a moment. Only the sound of Mrs Cole's sniffles filled the room.

Mr Cole's words sparked the last question you wanted to ask.

"You didn’t believe her, did you?" You asked.

"She made her own choices." Mr Cole said.

You promptly stood up from your chair, "And now she’s dead."

Mrs Cole burst out crying as you spoke, but you charged out of the room before you could console her. She knew anyway. She knew what her husband was doing to her daughter and still she did absolutely nothing, either because she was terrified or she simply didn't care.

But she was just a child.

You were just a child.

<.><.>

The bathroom was as depressing as the rest of the police station.

You had needed a moment to collect yourself.

Interviewing someone who had these whacked beliefs about raising children triggered you in a way you didn't think possible.

The way Mr Cole spoke was chilling and it made you remember all those dark nights when you didn't think you'd ever be loved again. In fact, back then, you don't reckon you knew what love was.

Your grip on the bathroom counter tightened as you tried to ground yourself.

You were so in your own head this whole case and you hadn't caught who was responsible yet. This case was only going to become more triggering as you went along and as you potentially uncovered more bodies.

Right when you felt like you might just let every emotion out Emily opened the bathroom door, you leant back off the counter and tried to look composed.

"Just wanted to let you know that the team's back. Oh and there's someone here who wants to speak to you." She gave you a small smile.

"Okay, thanks." You smiled back and it felt like the fakest thing in the world.

<.><.>

The last thing you expected when you returned to the main area of the police station was to see your father.

Your footsteps halted, like you couldn't physically move any closer towards him.

The rest of the room kept carrying on like normal, but you felt your words completely dry up and your hands begin to shake. You tried to process all the questions you had for him being here all at once.

"Y/N!" He raised his arms out like he was ready for a hug but you stepped back, knocking your hip into the corner of a desk in panic.

The rest of the team watched the situation before them.

They'd never seen you look so lost.

“There you are!” He smiled but you heard the venom behind each word. He was putting on his charm in front of all these people, but really he restraining himself from showing his true colours.

"W-what are you doing here?" You asked.

He scoffed like that was a silly question, “It’s been a long time.”

You can feel the weight of people's eyes on you. Other agents. Cops. The team. Aaron. The last one makes you nervous.

You have an inkling that Aaron knows something and yet you have never managed to tell him. Aaron makes you feel safe like no one ever has, but you still can't find the courage to speak up. You're also worried what he might do should he find out.

This doesn't need to become a thing. You don't want to become one of the teams victims.

So you tried to take control of the situation for once, "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, please leave. We have work to do.”

"I just wanted to check on you.” Your father's jaw clenched as he spoke.

Check on you? After all these years of no contact?

You didn't want him checking up on you. You didn't want him anywhere near you.

After all these years you still feel trapped near him - even when he's not touching you.

Aaron must have been watching closely, because he could tell that you were done with this situation but it was clear your father wasn't. It didn't take a profiler to work out the cause of that tension. Aaron needed the situation handled before anyone could do anything - his own fists were readying to swing should your father take one step out of line.

"She's asked you to leave, Sir." Aaron said stoicly.

You could feel Aaron right next to you, arms crossed over his chest to make himself look more dominant. Your father was only small anyways, but next to Aaron he was nothing.

Your father looked between you and Aaron, chuckling to himself.

"You Y/N's boyfriend then?" Your father asked.

You stiffened next to Aaron, your palms flexing as you tried to remember Aaron's words from earlier.

"Aaron Hotchner." He gave your dad a small nod.

You noticed how Aaron didn't flex his credentials. It was a classic profilers move of undermining the man who thought he was in charge, because then they never really know what to expect.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised.” Your father chuckled. “Never figured Y/N would be the type to get involved with someone like you.”

Aaron's facial expression didn't change. In fact, if anything, he looked a little more pissed off.

Your mind was trying to get you to choose between fight or flight. Normally you would fight, but having your dad so near really triggered your flight response. So you tried to cut the tension and deescalate the situation. before anyone got more hotheaded.

Although seeing Hotch punch your father would feel pretty good.

"Okay. I think we're done here."

Your father shrugged, raising his hands in defence, “Watch your tone. There's no need to get upset. I'll go.” He said, making it seem like you were being the unreasonable one.

Your father's words and the way you immediately shut down after he said them were a dead giveaway to your past.

It was impossible to hide it.

And for the first time in your relationship with Aaron, you felt exposed.

This was part of your story - part of you - that you never wanted him to have to see. Aaron had far too many of his own demons to suddenly take on yours as well.

Your father makes the effort to walk towards the main door, but not before stopping to speak again. “You’re still the same, aren’t you?”

He was baiting you.

“Still running. Still pretending. Does he even know?” He continued.

His words made you look towards Aaron and it hurt to see him look so angry. Was he upset that you had hid something so personal and traumatic from him? Would this alter your relationship?

You turned to look at the rest of your team too. Emily looked heartbroken. Morgan looked angry. Reid looked so sad. You were making your favourite people feel sad.

Your own eyes welled with tears as you thought about all the people that you were hurting by just being here.

Aaron had clocked on from even before the briefing of this case that something that happened in your childhood. He just didn't think it was as sick and as twisted as this.

Aaron watched your head dip, your fists scrunch in the way he hated to see and your lips continuously mouthing; 'I'm sorry'.

How on God's Earth could you ever think you had something to apologise for?

“That’s enough." Aaron's voice cut through the room, making you look up at him with fear. Not fear of him, but fear for him. You knew all too well what that man who called himself your father could do. Rossi had been more of a father in a year than you actual father had in ever.

Your dad turned and smiled. He'd won.

Your darkest secret was out in the open and your father didn't care if he was taken down with it. The heartbroken look on your face would last him a lifetime.

You couldn't breathe.

Even after all these years your father had still had a hold over you and he could still win. He could still make you feel worthless with a simple few words. That's all he needed.

The tears fell over your cheeks as your chest heaved.

Policemen were watching your breakdown and your team looked as heartbroken as you felt.

You felt disgusting, crying over your own self when you were supposedly on a case to save other people like you. This time wasn't meant to be about you and yet somehow it now was.

You put a hand over your mouth as you tried to hold back a verbal sob.

Everyone's eyes were on you.

Watching to see you break down into nothing.

You couldn't do this. You never wanted it to be like this. You thought you were stronger than this.

Saying nothing more, you excused yourself politely and ran out of the room towards the back of the station - far, far, away from your father. But far, far, away would never be far enough.

<.><.>

Hotch hadn't moved.

He stood his ground as he watched your father - that piece of scum - chuckle once you'd fled the room.

"Get. Out." Hotch gritted out through his teeth.

Your father nodded.

Morgan moved closer to your father, looking at Hotch briefly to silently tell his boss that he had this handled and that you would need him more than he was needed here right now.

Hotch nodded, but not before getting one good last look at your father's face here. The next time he would see his face was going to be when Hotch put him behind bars.

<.><.>

Aaron found you out the back of the precinct.

You had one hand to your chest as you tried to control your breathing, the other holding yourself against the cold wall for support.

Your crying was calmer now but the tears still fell.

You turned to face Aaron when he walked out of the door. You tried to stand taller, pulling your shirt down to fit properly.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean for that to happen.” You sniffled, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek.

"Don't apologise."

"N-no. I should’ve handled it better. Shit." Your voice was so shaky that Aaron was surprised you could even speak.

"Sweetheart, no."

You should’ve controlled the situation better.

“This isn’t on you.” Aaron reminder you gently.

“Everyone looked so—Aaron, I just made everything worse.” You said as you remembered how the team looked and how you could taken emotional control of an already vulnerable case. It was unprofessional.

"This isn’t on you.” He repeated. “None of us are upset with you. We're devastated for you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but that felt too hard to accept.

You shook your head as you tried to calm down the tears and hiccups that were reappearing.

"Honey... Listen to me and listen carefully. Nothing that just happened was because of you. Nothing that has happened was because of you." Aaron took a step closer to you.

"But, he..."

"Ssh, ssh. Listen." Aaron said softly, close enough to reach out for your hands now. "Hey, look at me."

When his hands touched you, you became completely grounded. You felt like you were right here instead of back there. Aaron was right in front of you and he wasn't running away. He was right there.

"You're still here." You said through a hiccup of tears.

"Of course I am." He said with a frown.

"I thought you-you'd leave, o-or not want me and..."

"Stop that. No. I don't mean to cut you off but I won't have you convincing yourself that I'm not anything but with you for the long haul, okay?" Aaron was so close now, linking his fingers through yours so that he could help you release all the anger from your fists.

"That first day you came into the BAU I was so low. I was. And I felt like you had been sent to our team not only to fix our capacity issues but also to... to fix me. I felt, for so long, like I had lost a part of me and yet the minute you walked through those doors... Well, I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That the part of me returned." Aaron's fingers squeezed yours to continue to ground you, "So if you think for one moment that I'm letting you slip away from me, with that part of me, so easily... Well I'm not even entertaining the idea." He gave you a smirk.

"So we're okay?" You asked for reassurance. Aaron was more than happy to give it to you.

"We're okay." He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a little while to keep you close.

Aaron had noticed you pushing him away all day, so to have this time right now to be close with you was something he wasn't giving up so easily.

You were too busy embracing Aaron's touch to realise he was holding back tears of his own.

<.><.>

Both you and Aarons stood out back for another ten minutes or so, just talking through everything.

You didn't want to go into any details with him right now, but you did admit what your father used to do to you when you were a child and why this case hit far too close to home for you.

Aaron almost berated you for being so careless with your own emotions and mental state, but thought now was not the best time for that conversation. Instead he filled his talk with comforting and reassuring words. He had to make sure that you felt safe again.

He also promised to make your father's life a living hell - in whatever capacity legal...

That sort of terrified you but also made you feel a little lighter.

Morgan opened the door out back soon after, smiling at the way you and Hotch were holding hands and comforting one another.

"Hey. We got a call off the anonymous tip line. Girl called Sheree Rockstead called in to say that she's noticed some guy following her around the past few days. She's also just got out of a violent relationship and she's attending the women's shelter. She's seen the news and is worried."

"It's definitely our guy." Hotch said, not breaking his hand holding with you. "Let's set up an evac. plan. for Sheree and a trap for our unsub."

"You got it." Morgan nodded before leaving again.

Aaron turned back to you warily. You gave him a half smile in return.

"I'm going to stay here." You said.

"Okay." Aaron nodded. He would've benched you anyways if you demanded on going, knowing that field work was not the right thing for you right now.

"Be safe. Please."

"You too."

"Aaron..."

"I know. I'll be safe, I promise. Just want to make sure you are too. I mean if your father comes back when I'm not there I..."

"He won't." You shook your head. "Plus Reid can fight him off."

"Reid?"

"He has magic, after all." You laughed and Aaron had never been so happy to hear something in all his existence. His only hope was that he could continue hearing it with every day he had left.

<.><.>

On the way home on the jet everyone had passed out asleep other than you and Aaron.

There was still too much to talk about.

You had made your own announcement to the team about your past - a more revised version than what you would be telling Aaron - because you thought it was important for them to know.

Morgan threatened to become an undercover spy and "beat his ass" - his words. Hotch threatened to give him a pysch test if he kept throwing those words around, so he shut up - but only when his boss was present.

Garcia tracked down your father's whole life and it turned out he was drowning in debt and your mother had left him. His life was pretty crap and that made you feel really good.

Aaron, though, he had been a crutch for you throughout.

You were so lucky to have him.

But he would say he was luckier to have you.

And that would be the only competition that you and Aaron would ever have.

[nocek]

This doodle was a journey so ramble below the cut.

Original idea was obviously a cuddle pile. As in previous comics Miguel prefers loose pajamas of superior quality and also sleeping curled into pretzel because at least the spider genetics gave him a bendy spine so he actually can sleep like that without repercussions.

Wade is obviously in the middle enjoying being a filling of that sandwich (and also pin cushion). Again same clothes as in previous comics sans the mask and also deadfang logo since one: im lazy and two: that would be rude.

Logan has the most idgaf approach to sleeping, just loose some clothes and then terrorize everybody with his mighty old man snore.

As for drawing itself. ehhh... Obviously since it's on paper, shitty one at that, i couldn't (and also was to lazy too) redraw mistakes like Migs hands being firmly on Wade's stomach while cutting into it.

Then for lineart i used a fude fountain pen which actually turned out decent but then I decided to add some shadows and yeah. The ink inside fountain pen was very very very not water proof. Also shitty paper didn't like water. Actually the effect is steel bleeding through as "shadows" and also adds volume to Logan's fluffiness.

So it looked terrible at that point so i decided that hey, it can't get any worse and pulled out my Arrtx acrylic markers I bought on a whim thanks to my work bonus. They are actually ok quality for the price. But to make the price match there is not actually that much paint inside (which is visible along the top part of the picture). Turns out I'm not a fan of their brush nib (while usually I love them) but they worked for a quick doodle much better that usual markers.

The final pass through was with just a regular ball pen and everything kinda looked ok. I really like how Logan looks :)

[drivinmeinsane]

City Life, Apple Pie

Driver x Reader ※ { masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: There’s a part of you that wonders if he would accept the brush of your fingertips over the back of his hand. If he would silently spread his fingers enough for yours to make a home between his. ※ Rating: G for general audiences. ※ Content/tags: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, No use of Y/N, No Pronouns Given for Reader ※ Word count: 2,510 ※ Status: One-shot ※ Author's note: Another year has passed me by in this fandom and I'm no less captivated by so many of these characters. Happy 44th to Ryan Gosling. ※ Song inspiration: Apple Pie - Lizzy McAlpine

“You and the kid doing anything special tonight?”

Shannon’s voice cuts through the ambient hum of the overhead lights. You grit your teeth at the loud intrusion but you don’t turn your attention away from the sheets of paper littering the overcrowded desk. Ever since you started working for Picture Car Warehouse, you’ve been one of the many victims of the grizzled mechanic’s long-winded and largely one-sided conversations.

Instead of indulging him in glazed-eyed attention, you nudge an oil smeared wrench out of the way of a paragraph you need to look over. It leaves a black smear behind on the already smudged paper. One of the fingerprints that have been pressed into the corner of the sheet has a glaring interruption in the pattern that makes you think it was accidentally left by Driver. He’d sliced his thumb open on a piece of sheet metal just a few days ago.

Metal scrapping was yet another one of Shannon’s questionable business plans. He seemed to be a variable fountain of ideas. You’re honestly surprised he’s only ended up with a broken pelvis from all the bullshit he’s talked about pulling during his lifetime.

The older man clears his throat in lieu of any response from you and continues. “Now, if I were you, I might try a pie. Kid’s never been one for cake. Not that I’ve seen anyway. He’s always at that diner. You know? The one over on San Fernando? Jack's? I think? Something with a car in the name, maybe.”

“What are you talking about?” you finally ask, trying to rein in your exasperation. Looking up at him, you rub your thumb over the pen in your grasp’s clicker—not quite applying enough pressure to trigger the mechanism. You just want to get this insurance claim dealt with so you can go find Driver and the two of you can go home to your shared rental and you can be tormented with thoughts of how badly you want to kiss the crooked smile off your roommate while you watch TV crammed on the tiny couch that came with the place.

Shannon raises his eyebrows at you from his position leaning against the desk. He is clearly surprised you’ve spoken at all.

“The kid?” he says, slowly. “It’s his birthday tomorrow. Didn’t he tell you?”

Your stomach swoops unpleasantly with surprise. Driver hasn’t said a damn word about it. There hasn’t even been the vaguest suggestion of even what month he was born in. He’d left you completely in the dark to that personal detail. It had seemed almost unimportant while you had collected the crumbs of what you did discover, hoarding the small details like precious gems. You know that he likes the pale blue of spring sky the best. You know he doesn’t eat sandwiches because of his mother. You’ve learned that he flexes his fingers on his steering wheel when he’s done too many hours of driving and his joints ache. You think you’re realizing that he does love—quietly and intently. But you don’t know when his damn birthday is.

Of course he hasn’t, you think, he’d rather take a hammer to his own head than to be an inconvenience or let on that he actually has wants or needs.

“No.”

At this admission, Shannon laughs and claps you on the shoulder with a work-roughened hand before heaving himself off the edge of the desk to return to work with some effort. You know the brace he wears digs at him—Lord knows he’s rubbed at his perpetually bruised hip and grumbled about any hint of humidity enough that half the guys in the shop have offered to chip in and get the “old man��� a rocking chair so that he has a designated place to sit for his scheming and bitching.

Halfway through the door connecting the garage to the cramped office that fronts the building, Shannon pauses. His voice is crackling with a barely concealed amusement as he makes a confession.

“He didn’t tell me neither. I snuck a glance at his license back when I hired him.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

Driver shifts the car into another gear. The action is preformed so smoothly that you almost can’t feel the subtle hitch as the old Malibu responds. No wonder Shannon has been singing his praises as soon as he’s out of earshot. Driver is good—almost unreal—when it comes to vehicles. His actions have always been able to speak more for him than any meager handful of words ever could.

He leaves his hand resting on the gearshift. You feel your throat go dry as you shoot furtive glances at it. It’s unfair, really, the way that the setting sun casts vibrant light over his skin. It highlights the contours of his fingers and sets the fine hair dusting down his arms and over the backs of his hands aglow. Letting your eyes linger, you can make out the silver flashes of old scars.

You look away.

You have to clench your hand into a fist to avoid placing it over his. You want to touch him so badly. It’s a desire that has kicked around in the unreasonable parts of your mind ever since Shannon forcefully introduced the two of you on the back end of some B-list car chase movie. It has only intensified since you signed a lease agreement for a shitty two bedroom apartment together.

There’s a part of you that wonders if he would accept the brush of your fingertips over the back of his hand. If he would silently spread his fingers enough for yours to make a home between his.

Your nails dig into your palm, biting like a badly trained dog. You can’t bring yourself to risk destroying your friendship with the quiet man at your side. It would be better to swallow down the bitter taste of unspoken admissions than to find yourself without his company at all.

Unable to take the usually comfortable silence of the ride home, you speak, thinking to the earlier conversation with Shannon. Your gaze is firmly fixated through the windshield. If you look at your roommate, you might cry.

“Cherry, peach, or apple?”

There’s a long moment of silence, so long that you’re not sure if he’s mulling over his response or if he’s that taken aback by your sudden questioning.

“Apple,” he says, voice soft. There’s a fondness in the depths of that one single word that you must be imagining.

“Okay,” you respond, swallowing down your own affection that threatens to bubble to the surface. You can work with that. There’s some apples taking up residence in a chipped bowl on the counter.

Scenery passes by. Neither of you make a stab at conversation for the rest of the way back to the apartment building. Silence has become second nature between the two of you. There’s an easy comfort in it.

───※ ·❆· ※───

“Got a job,” Driver says halfway through the movie you’re watching.

You look away from the TV.

The mechanic is sprawled out beside you on the couch, legs spread wide as he sags back into the worn material. His empty bowl from the dinner the two of you made together is perched on one knee. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body. You feel drawn to it like a moth to a light. In the glow of the television, it’s so easy to imagine his arm draping over your shoulders and drawing you against the firm line of his body.

There has still been no mention of his birthday. You’re entirely certain that he’s going to just let it slip by without a word.

No real name, no birthday, no desires. He’s forcing himself to be a blank slate for the projection of others. It makes your heart hurt.

“What is it?” you ask, surprised that he’s going out after working at the garage since the sun teased the horizon and long after it tipped over the apex. Shannon has a tendency to overwork him.

He lets silence unfold after your question as fantastical plants come to light on the screen in front of you. You’re more intent on the minute changes in his expressions—a raise of his eyebrow, the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheeks—than on the movie.

Finally, Driver stands up. He holds his hand out to take your empty bowl. The brush of your fingers together as you pass it to him sends sparks through your stomach.

“Just taking some guys ‘cross town. Might take a coupla hours." He heads towards the kitchen with his cargo.

You follow after him, taking up residence in the doorway as he scrubs the bowls clean and sets them in the drying rack beside the sink. Wanting to be of some use, you lean over to snag his jacket off the hook by the front door. You offer it to him when he turns away from slipping the hand towel back over the oven handle. He takes it from you with a warm squint of his eyes and shrugs into it. The slick material shines blue from the distant television lights.

“Be careful,” you tell him. You want to kiss him goodbye. You don’t move.

There’s a pregnant silence. Palpable tension fills the air. The two of you are on the cusp of something.

The bubble doesn’t burst. The wheelman just nods and slips out the door, locking it behind him with a twist of his wrist. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding.

His departure gives you time to pour over the battered cookbook some previous tenant had left behind in one of the kitchen cabinets. You should have just enough time to attempt making a pie. It can’t be that hard, surely. People have been making pies for centuries.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It proved to be a difficult task, far harder than you could have ever thought. You wipe down the counter, cleaning up the last traces of what had felt like an hour and a half fight for your life. You toss the rag over the sink faucet and look at your finished project with despair.

The pie is awkward and lumpy—almost a bad finger painting come to life.

Fuck. You know you should have walked to somewhere, anywhere, or coughed up the money for a taxi to find one made by a professional. This looks like shit.

A lump builds in your throat, quickly followed by involuntary tears leaping to your eyes. He’s done so much for you just by being a steady presence in your life for the past few months. The least you could have done was make him something presentable

Your self-pity is cut short by the solid step of boots outside the door, followed shortly by the clatter of keys making contact with the doorknob. Driver is home.

Nervous, you brush your hands over your face and gather yourself. With more confidence in your voice than you feel, you call out, “Welcome back.”

In response, you hear the rustle of a jacket being stripped off and folded under one arm, closely followed by a quiet exhale. The mechanic appears around the corner. Upon seeing you, a crooked smile slowly spreads over Driver’s face. He tosses his keys onto the counter with an easy motion of his arm. You’re blocking his view of the pie.

“Somethin’ smells good.” He sounds tired. There’s exhaustion lining weighing down the corners of his eyes.

“I…” you start, trailing off. Rallying yourself, you try again. “It’s not midnight yet so…”

Confusion creases the space between his eyebrows and he opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already turning and gesturing to your sad attempt at making pie.

“I know it’s not much, but happy birthday.”

Driver goes still and steps to your side to stare down at the misshapen dough. Apple juice and sugar have bubbled to the top, caramelizing into crispy, golden puddles. The expression on his face is almost too fragile to put a name to.

“How did you know?” The words he utters are barely more than a whisper.

“Shannon. He told me this afternoon.”

There’s a pause before he speaks, voice laden with helpless affection, “’Course he did.”

You feel like you’re about to fall over the edge of some unseen precipice. Vertifo threatens to overwhelm you. Shakily, you set to work carving Driver out a slice a pie. The mess you deposit on the plate could pass as a crime scene. You’re careful not to meet his eyes as he takes the plate from you after discarding his jacket onto the counter, covering up his keys.

The kitchen is filled with the low groan of the fridge kicking on. There’s the sudden whoosh of water darting through the pipes when one of the neighbors overhead turns on their sink. The scrape of the stunt driver’s fork is loud enough to echo in your mind while you stare at the glistening mixture in the pie pan still clinging to the void where the slice had been. Your chest feels tight. The lump in your throat is persistent.

Driver sets his plate on the counter with a soft clatter. A cautious glance reveals that it’s empty. He’d all but licked it clean.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet. Tender.

It’s tender enough that you look at him. That familiarly crooked smile is tugging at his lips. He reaches for you. Warm fingers brush against your side as he crowds into your space. The fabric of your shirt hardly feels like a barrier.

You barely get a breath out before he’s kissing you. He tastes like sugar and the cloying sweetness of baked apples. It’s all you can do to find his arms and hold onto him like the lifeline he’s come to be. He is sturdy underneath your clinging hands.

Much to your displeasure, Driver pulls back. He stays close enough that his nose brushes yours as his eyes seem to be searching yours for an answer to an unspoken question. Tension leaves his face as he finds it.

“Thank you for…” he lets the rest of the sentence die out, breath hitching in response to your touch.

Your hands slide over his biceps on their journey upwards. One takes residence on his shoulder while the other slips between his shoulder blades. Your fingers find their way into the short hair at his nape.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you respond and press your mouth against his in another kiss.

Eagerly, he accepts the affection. He sways on his feet, chasing after you when you break the contact. His lips brush over your cheek and you stop him in his tracks with a light touch on his sternum before taking his hand. His calloused fingers intertwine easily with yours as you lead him in the direction of your bedroom.

There is still some time before his birthday is officially over. You want to make the most of it.

Do not repost, copy, or reproduce my work to other sites or in other media formats. Do not use it for anything to do with AI. Thank you.

[alltimefail-sims]

Ari DeLuca For Nafisa by @flocy-sims!

The Basics: -> Human; She/Her -> Lesbian -> San Myshuno born and raised -> Young Adult (Right on the line - irl probably like 25 years old!)

Details below the cut! ↓

Ari's traits are: Outgoing, Hot-Headed, and Booklover. She also has one additional "Self-Discovery" bonus trait, Active!

-> Her current aspiration is: Super Parent (Ari has always loved kids: even if she were never to marry she would still foster and maybe even adopt!) -> Education: Distinguished Biology Degree with Honors from Foxbury Institute -> Career: Doctor (Level 8, Medical Specialist)

-> Additional Details: Grew up in a single parent household with her mom and two younger brothers. She was always a parentified well-behaved child and a great student and athlete, but did find herself in a few physical altercations along the way (which she was usually justified for, tbh). Ended up graduating high school with honors and went to college on a hefty scholarship. Is 100% no-contact with her dad. Is often seen with popsicle sticks, match sticks, suckers, toothpicks, etc. hanging out of her mouth (calms her nerves when she's idle). Has a tough exterior and is a little rough around the edges, but always coming from a genuine, empathetic place (has a good heart).

-> Random Rapid-Fire Likes: organized and minimalistic spaces, herbal (and heavily caffeinated) teas, reading (always has a new book in her bag), mornings, a good spirited argument or debate, fountain pens, weightlifting, kickboxing, spearmint gum, riding her motorcycle, spicy food, physical touch, listening (instead of talking/leading the conversation), traveling (and just going out in general - she is the opposite of a homebody).

-> Random Rapid-Fire Dislikes: popular cringe words or phrases like "doggo/pupper," "adulting," "skibidi toilet," so on. Dressing up fancy, being the center of attention, nosy and/or insecure people, MUSICALS, any and every neon color, strong perfume-y scents (her hellscape would take place in a bath and bodyworks lmao), anything with jello in it, SNOW (and really the winterfest holiday season as a whole). Oh and she hates when people find out she's a doctor and immediately bring up popular shows like Grey's Anatomy or House!

Private DL <3

[akehoshimystar]

Sei's Personal Story

Proofread by Aca (@463ce6 on X and tumblr) & Imai (Imai (@bunnyandcomet on X and tumblr)

If you accept everything that comes into your way, the world will open up and the scenery will change. Should I call that sophistry, wisdom, or the truth? Whatever it’s called, I think I learned it quite early.

Mother: Sei, you can do it. You'll definitely become a great writer! Have some confidence.

Sei: All right.

Father: You’re not like the others, you’ve been acknowledged by Fubuki-san. You are the chosen one.

There is nothing to fear, we’ll always be here for you.

Sei: Thank you. You've always been my greatest source of reassurance.

Parents: You’re our pride and joy. We’ll always love you.

If I didn't accept all of it over and over again with my typical smile, these people would surely cry. So I did. Tens, even hundreds of times.

Fubuki: ……I can’t believe you’ve picked up such disgusting behavior.

You poor thing.

The finest oblaat doesn't choose what it wraps. Medicine, poison, or even tragedy. Anything and everything is lovable if you think of them as love.

Sei: …….Yes?

Taiga: Ah. So you're still here after all.

Sei: Hmm? You can come in.

I stopped moving the fountain pen on the notepaper and turned around. Shortly after, Taiga peeked out from the door.

Taiga: Are you…still working?

Sei: No, I was just taking care of some personal business. What's the matter?

Taiga: I came downstairs to vacuum the first floor, assuming that you were outside. But then, I noticed your coffee cup wasn't in the kitchen.

Didn't you say you were going to Arima-san's house this afternoon?

Sei: Yeah. Although I said ”afternoon”, the appointment itself is at 3 o'clock. So it's still a little early to…....

Eh?

Taiga: …..As you can see.

It's past 2:30.

Sei: ……I genuinely broke out into a cold sweat. I swear, the last time I looked at the clock, it was definitely just before 1 o'clock.

Kiho: Still, it's impressive that you were on time.

If you were so busy with personal business that you lost track of time, you could have just postponed our appointment.

Sei: It's outrageous to postpone such an exciting event. It's been a while since I had the time to get my fortune read like this.

Kiho: Is that really so?

Sei: Oh. So you doubt me, how saddening.

Kiho: Ahaha. Sit wherever you like. I'll make some coffee.

Sei: Thank you.

Ring Ring

Sei: Oh, sorry, I forgot to put it on silent mode.

Kiho: A call?

Sei: That's right. I'll call them back later...

Incoming call: Okiya Fubuki

Sei: …………….

Kiho: …..You can take it.

Sei: Sorry. I don't think it will take long.

Kiho: Should I give you some privacy?

Sei: That won’t be necessary.

Sei: ……Yes. Sei speaking.

Fubuki: [Good day.]

In an instant, I felt as if my whole body had frozen from head to toes. Her voice, which severely lacked warmth as it is, was even colder than usual. From just one word, it was clear as day that something unpleasant had happened to her.

Sei: It's been a while, grandmother. I hope you’ve been well…but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Fubuki: [I received a bottle of wine from Botan and her husband. It even came with a nice box and New Year gift wrapping paper.']

Sei: (...Ah, mother sent something again. I’ve already told her countless times not to.)

Kiho: ……..

Fubuki: [I'm quite sure that some years ago, I returned a ridiculous amount of beer she'd sent us and told her that my husband and I had cut down on our alcohol intake. Is she trying to harass us?]

Sei: …...I see, that must’ve been unpleasant to experience for you. I'm so sorry.

Perhaps she mistakenly recalled that it was not the alcohol but the amount that was the problem. She must have a strong impression that you two like alcohol.

Fubuki: [So she's as thick as two short planks? Still as clueless as ever. It’s amazing how embarrassing she can be no matter how old she gets.]

Sei: ………

Fubuki: [In the first place, I already told her not to send me anything else since she only ever chooses nonsensical gifts, be it mid-year, year-end, my birthday, or Mother's Day.]

Sei: Yes, I suppose I didn't convey it well enough. I'll explain it to them again and make sure it gets through this time..

Fubuki: [Also, tell them to stop sending me those creepy letters with their illegible handwriting.]

"Even though that woman and her husband can't write a single decent sentence, they still send them without any shame. If they’re that desperate to tell me something in writing letters, you can compose it in their stead."

Sei: Understood.

Fubuki: [By the way, what about your impressions of the new book? I haven’t received them yet, are you busy?]

Sei: I apologise for keeping you waiting. I finished reading it last night and started writing right away, so I think I'll be able to send it to you within a few days.

I even used the ink I received for my birthday this year. No matter how many times I look at it, I'm always entranced by the prepossessing colors. Thank you.

Fubuki: "Is that so?"

Then, as usual, she abruptly hung up.

Sei: (......I didn't expect them to interpret her message as "you can send a letter instead" when she said not to make any phone calls or send any emails…... I really underestimated their optimism.)

(How can I make them understand? Maybe….. “Regardless of the means, without exception, the communication must go through me"? ……At this rate, even if they stop sending letters, they might say "Then, a telegram will do.")

………….

No matter what I say, I'm sure it will never be conveyed to them, ever. The more they believe in her love, the colder her heart becomes.  I'm not connecting them to her, I'm separating them.

Sei: (Anyway, I’ll make the call when I get home…… No. It's better to get it done as soon as possible.)

I sighed lightly, but Kiho-san did not engage in small talk at all. The sound of water boiling in the pot accentuated the silence of the room.

Sei: Excuse me. May I make another phone call?

Kiho: Go ahead.

……..Are you perhaps calling Botan-san?

Sei: Oh, as expected of Kiho-san. You’ve seen right through me.

Kiho: If it's something difficult to convey, I can tell her in your place.

Just a little while ago, I happened to receive a call from her saying, “I'd like to do it again sometime within the year.'' So I was thinking of giving her a visit soon.

Sei: Thank you. But it’s all right, I'll just accept your kind thoughts.

But, let’s see……. if it looks like it’s not getting anywhere, would you mind if I wrap up the call by mentioning the name? Like, "Misumi-sensei is here to tell your fortune."

Kiho: Of course. I'll even greet her if you want.

Sei: Fufu. That would be a great help.

Kiho: ……..Sei.

Sei: Yes?

Kiho: The coffee is nowhere near done. There's no need to rush.

Sei: …..Yes. Thank you.

I could hear the coffee mill turning. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, surrendering myself to the wafting aroma. Something froze in the back of my throat, and I swallowed it slowly, savoring it.

TL note: Oblaat is a thin, edible layer of starch used to wrap some candies and pharmaceuticals.

[eggbunni]

Finally allowing myself to play with part of my haul from the 2024 San Francisco Pen Show!

This is the Monteverde USA Limited Edition Innova Lightning 1999 fountain pen. 😍 It ticks all my little inner rave girl boxes — colorful, cool, and sexy. ✍️🌈✨🤸‍♀️

[akishourikawa]

「MONDAYS」

Originally from 2021年

Now that I'm at Aoba-san's age, I feel the dread of Mondays similarly as well...

Materials used: Colored pencils, alcohol markers, sumi ink, fountain pen ink, nib pens on vellum board

・Commission info・Drawing Process・Art blog・Main blog・

[plangentlyre]

If there is one thing Ichika learned about Lady Saki's tea parties, it is that one must always bring a plate of pastries as a gift.

"Oh! These are quite delicious! I urge you to tell me where you've bought these beloved cookies, Icchan!"

Even the blend of milk cannot dampen the sweet flavor that melts in Lady Saki's mouth as she cups the side of her cheek, munching on the treat gleefully.

Ichika stares at her cute expression fondly. "I just happened to read a recipe, is all. Although I couldn't have done everything without a friend's help." It was a miracle that Honami had the patience to guide her through each step without catching fire from her recklessness.

"Well," Lady Saki gulps from her teacup before continuing, "I think you did quite well, even if you think you couldn't without help. But, I would have liked it more if you invited me."

Inviting a noble lady, regardless of whether they're close friends or not, is too much of a shameless act to do.

"Ah... It might have been presumptuous to ask—"

"Nonsense!" The plates clatter from the lady's harsh impact on the table. "I cherish your company more than boring, old lectures. After all, Icchan is the bestest friend I could have! Cooking together is what friends do, is it not?"

"Y-Yes," Ichika stammers, feeling warmth crawling up her cheeks, "but it is still your duty to study as the duke's daughter and I would be disturbing you with my unimportant business."

Lady Saki's lips press into a thin line. "Even so, I want to spend time with you. And–and it makes me a little jealous that someone helped you cook other than me..." She admits in a shy whisper.

And doesn't that melt Ichika's heart even further. "My lady," she is given a pointed stare and she rectifies, "Saki, I would never replace your company with someone else's but as your personal guard, I must also prioritize your duties as an heiress." And your safety, she keeps to herself as she knows it will only upset her even more.

The title paired with her words deflates Lady Saki's resolve. It has been years since her brother's disappearance after the accident and months since she's been issued the duties in preparation for taking the family's mantle as duchess. The absence in their home has only made her clingier with each day that passes.

Ichika can only help her with so much, even if it means bringing cookies to their tea parties through her incredibly amateur culinary skills. "But I do have a secret."

"Secret?"

She smiles. "Yes. I also happened to hear that a particular tutor has taken an illness and that there might be a few vacant hours in place of someone's sessions. That's why, if it's no problem for Saki, would you..."

"Of course!" Expectedly, Lady Saki brightens as she clutches on her sleeves, rejuvenated. "We can also have a picnic by the fountain! I'll have the maids prepare everything, we can also play a couple of games and redecorate the gardens with ribbons and–"

"How about we plan it slowly, Saki?" She intervenes gently, knowing full well how passionate Lady Saki's tangents can be.

"Right, right. Let me grab some pen and paper from my bedroom." She says as she picks up her dress, already on her heels to run across the mansion's hallways.

"Calmly, Saki. Here," Ichika offers her arm, "allow me to accompany you."

A delightful giggle bursts from her friend's lips then she feels a gloved hand slide in place with her arm. Lady Saki turns a starry gaze at her.

"Shall we go, Ichika?"

Ichika complies with a content nod. At least this way she can alleviate enough of the worries and responsibilities Saki endures everyday. She can merely hope that everything will turn out well for both of their futures.

Of course, as life always is, it all goes downhill.

"Duke and Duchess Tenma have been assassinated. Young Lord Tsukasa remains missing and Lady Saki has not left her room for a week. What should we do, Hoshino-san?"

[finnegansundaysociety]

I love your concepts for Penrose and Terminal!! Do they have full refs yet other than the description in the orginal text post? And if you don’t mind could you tell a couple facts about them /nf (I’m literally so obsessed with their concepts already and I saw the post like ten minutes ago so sorry if I spam liked a bit😭😭)

OH MY GOD TY IM GLAD YOU LIKE THEM

unfortunately all i have is this really scuffed sketch of terminal in the way of visual references. i can give super in depth text descriptions if that'd be helpful? the self loathing really gets in the way of me doing art SOB

as far as facts go, i have been rotating these goobers in brain for well over a month SO HERE WE GO

both terminal and penrose have the ability to hop dimensions. terminal does so by navigating his directory of timelines, selecting the one he wants to go to, and running the "teleport" method. penrose uses inert ink to build bridges in the void that can traverse timelines.

terminal's SOUL is protected by the white hole its inside, and so it can't be reached by blue magic, can't be taken from his body, and can't be pierced by penrose's fountain pen

as a whole, terminal is immune to penrose's black hole due to his body being made entirely of garbage code. if penrose cuts off an arm for example, it glitches out into nothingness rather than turn into usable ink

terminal hates when things are illogical, as fallacious reasoning can cause exceptions and infinite loops in his code. he will often get stuck ruminating, where his eyes will turn black and you see a bunch of white text running by. he has an automatic function to reboot his system if a loop continues for 5 minutes

terminal also has a button on the back of his neck that causes a force restart if held for ten seconds.

different colors of SOUL INK give penrose different emotions while they're burning. his least favorite type is KINDNESS, because it makes him feel remorse for the people he kills and the timelines he destroys.

when penrose has absorbed a lot of PATIENCE, he tends to be very aloof and almost toys with his prey. he'll often put his fountain pen away for most of the fight and use swords, just for the thrill of the fight. but as soon as he gets bored penny appears again

penrose has figured out a method of storing SOUL INK in vials, similar to ink sans. however, the vials are incredibly small as storing large amounts of SOUL INK in one container often causes it to explode and the ink to become useless

penrose's vials are more like sauce packets of soul juice

because the vials are so small, penrose will keep an extensive stock of them in his coat. he'll open his coat and it looks like shelves TwT

the only timeline penrose will never touch is UnderShonen, because he knows terminal watches it.

i have so much more but i will save it for future lore posts ^^ and i will prolly repost some of these facts in their own lore posts

[roadkill-creatures]

Made a better ref for him :] + Headcanon height chart thingie-

[sbtorms]

My "version" of Ink(!Sans) wouldn't be a Sans. It wouldn't even be one of the main cast characters.

It would be a fuckin' Greater Dog AU (mixed with the usual Annoying Dog).

Why? Because it would be really funny.

I have ideas for how it would work. It'd be wearing a collar with a rainbow orb attached to it. The orb holds an abundance of magic, determination, and pure code inside it, all represented through a paint/ink/liquid-like substance. The "liquid" can come together to form its suit of armor. It'd have a fountain pen, since those kinda look like spears.

When out of its suit, it'd have the Annoying Dog ability to just... clip through walls, for some reason. It can bring others along with that, and that's how it traverses the multiverse.

[baylardo]

my jj carey cinematic universe kinda chronological idea posting its still super rough GO

elephant wrote in the Carey chapter of lesson plans that peppa and jj were pen pals :3 i think they have an age gap of like 9 years lmao -looks away- (((((chakotay and janeway have the same gap leave me alone lmao)))))) but theyd be like 5 and 14 i think? i figured thatd be how they communicate through their earlier life,,,

maybe peppa would accompany her mother during the Widow’s Walk lil short story about kathryn meeting Joe’s wife and their two sons to bestow the medal of honor or whatever and gives JJ his father’s model of voyager :)

i figure theyd remain distant for a while after that for a variety of reasons like hes grieving his father, probably enters the academy as a promising cadet, idk when hed drop out/leave tbh but it comes as a shock to everyone. anyway also peppa’s mom dies and they go space for several years. i figure theyre both busy being in school/living life to interact much. i thought like maaaaaybeeeee he and patrick (or just jj) would reach out to the triplets when their mother died but i dont think philippa especially would receive it well. shes bad with her feelings and her papa left or was in the process of leaving also lol WHOOPS

might be some time inbetween when they connect but its always brief and very platonic just friends catching up in vibe. put a pin in that one lolllll,,,,,, otherwise:

i was thiiiiinking theyd reconvene at a voyager 20 year reunion? (the 10 year i think lands when theyre out in space!) so shed be around 25 and hed be 34? 🤔 when theyre both adults by that point i think, reconnect out by a fountain. theyd get to talk about what all has happened in their lives, its a little bit of an escape for philippa from the party, shes surprised hes even here considering. very likely his mother and brother didnt come. maybe hed ask about her scar, OR NOT, maybe she brings it up hehe,,,,,, is vulnerable about how insecure she feels about her appearance and hed say something sweet back. :) maybe be a little cheeky about how he loves seeing her patterns more visibly in that revealing of a dress shes wearing!!! 🙈 in a polite way. shed maybe finally have the time to ask why he dropped out of starfleet, shed talk about her own career (idk if 25 is still academy age…) stuff like that!!! but i figure they pick up pen paling each other again after this!!!! bc shes on starships now and hes either home or visiting planets for work.

figure they hang out sometimes while she has time inbetween missions. hes a bit of a geek/nerd combo, she complains about her family a lot with him, she asks him about his projects, stuff she doesnt understand but he lights up about it in a way she maybe envies she wishes she had his passion about something. she visits his house in ireland a lot and has a foundation of fondness toward the country ingrained in her from her mother. ummmm maybe she has an apartment in san Francisco, but she stays over there sometimes to get away from her work. potentially hes the one she confides in about what shes seen and done. 🤷

next thing that happens thats kinda Altering the norm for them is that philippa’s captain betrays starfleet and shes ordered into extended medical leave after being forcefully augmented by her captain. i gotta mention like, philippa and captain sh'eraz have been working together for a bit, their last mission as a captain and XO was to retrieve this lost/dead warship aka the Vesuvius that was stolen by augments early on into starfleet's history and subsequently altered/enhanced. it's kinda a lost relic of a ship, but its augmentations have been a quiet looming threat that starfleet has wanted to obtain and CONTAIN.

but captain sh'eraz augments philippa before escaping capture. (shes either like, with some augments or romulans or something idk yet lol) ANYWAY philippa cant go to Jace during this time bc her augmented and in general thoughts are exceptionally difficult to be around as a telepath, her family isnt an option for her (stubborn?? theyre overwhelmjng to her and shes like, augmented and lashes out and keeps crying all the time, she doesnt want anyone to see her in this state tbh) i think shed end up going to JJ’s for a bit and he offers to take her off world to the planet he’s doing engineering work on. its swampy kinda similar to the planet she was born on. it takes her some time to come to terms with her circumstances, she may never get better, she may be stuck like this and never be allowed back into starfleet, and i think jj would help her with maybe seeing a bigger picture of helping people or something idk. her augmented brain for a while kinda has a knack for equations and blue printing and problem solving so they work on engineering jobs together that shed never have been able to have helped on prior to the augmentation. i figure she gradually learns to relax and let her body heal, eventuslly she starts regressing both mentally and physically back into her old state. like to think she picks up swimming as a hobby, something she never indulged all too frequently before, but shes getting more in touch with her amphibious tendencies while here. eventually they finish their work on the planet and go back, and philippa continues her recovery on earth.

for a time she’s still not 100% back to recovery but shes calmed down and she sees her family and can manage seeing jace now without being mentally A LOT for her betazoid friend. i figure around this time, kathryn is sticking her nose in the revival project for the Vesuvius (or maybe overseeing it?) which is the ancient starship philippa retrieved. thought that she might discreetly recruit JJ to work on the project, not disclosing anything to philippa though. reasoning behind why he gets involved being his experience working with older dated systems and starships, theyre trying to figure out how to deal with the augmentations built into the old ship.

EVENTUALLY, revival project finishes, peppa's probably tried to squeeze information out of her mother and friend for a while but it hasnt worked. Philippa returns to starfleet after her extended medical leave and gets promoted to captain and given the Vesuvius as a new experimental ship, the Legacy.

JJ is given a field commission for a bit, im thinking lieutenant? 🤔 aboard the Legacy to make sure the transition is seamless and nothing breaks, so him and philippa get some time to actually work together in starfleet. :) their overarching goal is to find and aprehend captain sh’eraz but as is the case with most starfleet things, they get caught up in side quests along the way lol. one thing of note for me during this time is like, the Legacy is full of surprises, things missed in its inspection and revival process. philippa had a weeeird intuitive knack for dealing with the augmented stuff on the ship, likely a phantom limb type vibe from her augmentation. she tries to play it down how instinctively she knows how things should work, likely confides in JJ that its something shes dealing with and playing down. as the chief engineer(?) he can kinda go with it, but theyre very “need to know” with each other about the augment stuff. i can imagine a lot of their adventures involve the Legacy doing something augmented and weird and unpredictable and them trying to figure out what its trying to do or tell them.

i dont know if hed still be around by the time philippa is confronting/pursuing her ex-captain, maybe they get the hang of the Legacy eventually and he goes home, new chief engineer comes on in his stead. i kinda want ummmm philippa alone and a little wet cat a and a little obsessed with her mission without much support surrounding her. :3c i also just think theyd pick up writing to each other again and shed miss having him around, so it gives room for THAT. but moidrah sh’eraz gets either captured or killed (idk whats more poignant yet lol) and i think its be traumatic and shes return home to earth and MAYBE see jj and be defeated and cry about it lalala its vague in my head rn.

lifes goes on, hes still doing civil engineer things, shes still captaining the Legacy,,,,, ummmmmm they maybe sleep together one time and MAYBE she gets pregnant…… im still so iffy on that one lmao go read this post for this mess of an idea involving how philipp maybe gets TWO kids 🙈

figurrreeeee not long after THAT ^^^^^ she passes on the Legacy to a new captain and is given command of a galaxy class ship (maybe the Elysium??????) which she never thought shed see herself captaining lmao. idk if those classes are still around for families,,,,,, but i figure shed do something way less dangerous and slower while shes ummmmm maybe pregnant and raising a weird moth alien baby. with jj maybe hahaha. theyre figuring it out THIS AREAS STILL ROUGH FOR ME GET BACK TO ME ON IT LOLOLOL. whether or not hes field commissioned again idk!!! maybe hes training engineers 🤷

but thats all i got so far hahaha :)

[h0styg]

Since I haven't draw lately and I'm not doing so well I'm doing a text post of fragiletale with a few takes of the au since I love it dearly!

- Stary (sans) is actually a close friend of muffet! She teaches him mimic for fun. And he teaches her origami (which he is great doing!)

- Stary is blind in their left eye (the one with the big star!)

- I can't recall if I said it hear, but: Undyne, despite not being strong in status; she learned her way to being physically strong - although the criminality is very low, so she mostly just helps out the monsters in very different ways

- with that, Alphys helps out her a lot too - they both go around the underground to help out the monsters (yes they are very much in love with each other and everybody knows but them)

- Toriel always had a liking for the Ruins, so she lived there almost all her life (including the time with Asgore and Asriel)

- Toriel also have a pretty good relationship with the strong monsters in the Ruins, and even when she doesn't have the best status, all monsters like helping her out (like, taking care of the flowers and stuff like that). The monsters in the Ruins also love when Toriel brings her Pies to them

- Stary and Papyrus actually live in waterfall, but they have a house in snowdin because they like the snow (and the Christmas vibe!)

- Stary spends a lot of time with the echo flowers (lore reasons); Papyrus most of the time founds him there and just sits in their side silently

- Alphys and Stary aren't cooworkers, but Stary goes to Alphys's lab a lot to help her with research (lore reasons)

- Muffet is LOVED, she has a name with her mimic abilities in all underground (she even goes on tour!)

- Muffet get a lot of money from her shows, part of it she uses to help the most weak monsters present in underground

- Most of the monsters are very weak, so the underground in it's majority is a pacific place to live

- Toriel loves landscape painting, and it's actually pretty good at it!

- Chara didn't died as a child in the underground, actually they lived until their 15! Before The First Acident happen at least (lore)

- Frisk have violent behavior when they fall to the underground; but Toriel starts helping they understand better their feelings and so on

- Frisk have a star pin in their sweatshirt that Stary gave them

- Monster Kid have the strongest legs in the whole underground. Just because.

- Grillby have a soft flame light, a very confortable one

- Grillby actually have a writting hobbie; he loves writting with fountain pen and have a whole collection of them

- Grillby, Stary and Muffet have "bussiness" meetings about their establishments (Grillby's bar, Stary's hot dog stand and Muffet's bakery). They actually just meet to gossip and eat together

Alright that is enough takes fr; hcs, suggestions and asks are always welcome!

Remember this is a work in progress, it's a au I think in my free time and brings me great confort🤲🤍

[brinefathomcaves]

Brinefathom Caves Level 3, Week 4

3.30: The Ingredient Room

3.31: The Spawning Pit

3.32: The Hive

3.33: The Back Garden: Cobblestone path winds between neat flower beds and squared-off hedges to encircle large fountain. Details are weird : Flowers smell of rotting meat, fountain statue is of an elven woman slitting her own throat, plants sway despite lack of breeze. Empty.

3.34: The Passbirds: Six black, one-legged flamingos stand in 6” of still water. Water deals acid damage; flamingos don’t seem to mind. Other creatures’ reflections in the water are horribly distorted; five flamingos’ are normal, one’s shows it with red feathers. When another creature approaches or otherwise disturbs a flamingo, it screeches out a word in Common. The one with the red reflection says the password for the front door in 3.38, currently “putrefy.” Empty.

3.35: The Guard Dogs

3.36: The Blood Bowl: Large, grotesque statue of an elven woman with her throat cut bleeding into a bowl. Traces of dried blood in bowl. If a creature adds fresh blood, door to 3.37 opens. Empty.

3.37: The Broom Closet

3.38: The Drowned Yard

3.39: The Glowing Altar: Frog-legged stone table covered in glowing San Digogo’s moss. Dead moss in pattern like blood spatter. Empty.

(Non-key rambling under cut)

For some reason, I had a ton of trouble doing the detail ink on this week's rooms. 3.31 in particular was such a mess that I erased it and re-did all the details with a digital pen tool (so it still doesn't look good, but trust me that it looks better).

On a happier note, making the passages between pages non-contiguous was a great idea. Now I have to worry a lot less about whether floors line up correctly (spoilers: they do not) because there's a chunk of lacuna'd passages bridging the gap.