#There's logic there if you squint

[stick-by-me]

Doodley-doo 🖍️

New follower sticker for: @beachhouse2000!

[belovedroach]

I love your au and your art a lot it's hard to come across any new Sanders sides au now a days so thank you for making this one. also Is Virgil the only one with multiple arms?

Thank you so much!! 💕✨

And technically no, both Patton and Logan have extra arms. It's just that theirs are retractable and only use them for work/cooking related stuff. But yeah!

extra arms are very useful in not letting inspiration get away lol.

[dustykneed]

I am sad to say I often miss your art when I'm scrolling but when I DO see it, I proceed to scroll through your blog for an hour until I catch up. I love your art so much. I want to eat it 💖💖💖💖💖

oh gosh, that's so sweet of you to say 🥺 side note, i love your url hehe (so much so that the mental image inspired a short silly comic! hope you enjoy <33)

[dukeyeatsdeodorant]

Logan: Patton, why is there a Q on the chess board?

Patton, playing chess with Roman: We lost one of the pawns, so we're using that instead!

Logan: Oh..okay? Well, I'm going to the store.

Roman: Can you get me some icecream?

Logan: I don't think we have enough money in our budget for that.

Patton: Heh, you can use my Q-Pawn!

Logan:

Patton: Like- Like coupon? Get it?

Logan: No icecream for either of you.

Patton and Roman: NOOOOO

[chamm0y]

today on criminally underrated cassettes: beastbox, with a side of ravage

shhh hes working 🤫

i cannot believe theres actually like,, no fanart of him and believe me i searched everywhere and i could only find whatever these are

which are kind of nice,,, but not what im looking for

[yerkes-dodson-curve]

It be them Incorrect Quotes

Because I cannot think because I am bitterly jittery and not very glittery

Roman: My head hurts. Virgil: That’s your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.

Logan: Patton keeps forgetting which WiFi network they're supposed to use. Logan: So I renamed ours to "Patton, use this one" to help them out a little.

Patton: Why are you two always out during rainstorms? Virgil: It’s so peaceful and refreshing. I love the smell of rain. Remus: Janus bet me I couldn’t get struck by lighting, but they’re WRONG.

Roman: Hey, Janus. These candies you gave me? They sucked. Janus: But you ate them all. Roman: I had to make sure they all sucked.

Virgil walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Remus, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK. Remus, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

Virgil: Is Logan always like this when they lose? Roman: Oh, yes. You should've been there for the Great Jenga Tantrum of 2015. Logan: You bumped that table and you know it!

Roman: Patton, I rebuke thee! I rebuke thee! Virgil: Rebuke? Is that a word? Roman: You have all invoked my fury! You will all pay recompense for your transgressions! Virgil: What, you got like a word-a-day calendar or something?

[ivefallenforyouandicantgetup]

The Sanders Sides hyper fixation is back! In the midst of constructing a Logan appreciation comp, I got distracted and made this lil’ goober.

It’s just kind of a shitpost (not really) of a bunch of different videos where Logan’s love for this specific brand of jelly is mentioned.

[celestiachan]

is the cover of meta knight's book the fucking planet from boxboy

[unlicensed-field-medic]

*ahem...*

do you by any chance know italian? since it's the language of music? or japanese, since it's the music of the rising sun?

...or, perhaps, many other languages... since music is music no matter the language?

also can you control when you glow, where you glow, and how much you glow? if so, can you communicate to your siblings through flickering like fireflies?

are you light sensitive, light tolerant, or non of the above?

do you like oreos?

Nope. Cant speak a word of italian. Couple of my siblings can. [Will says, looking around the infirmary, eying the shadows especially before lowering his voice and adding] i can understand it though. Just maybe keep thag one to yourself.

[Will gives that some thought then, his voice returning to normal] I'm not fluent but I know a fair amount of sign language. And ive picked up some Chinese from Yan and I know enough Spanish to order at a street vendor

And with the glowing uh [will lights up a hand, the process gradually fading into light] i feel like Morse coding this would take forever. [The glow on the back of his hand fades so its just his palm before he shakes it out and it vanishes] and i can control where but mostly just localized areas. Not that specific unless its on my hand which is tiring the more specific it is

I can control when mostly but theres a couple others thing like during emotional highs or when doing stronger healing or cracking my knuckles where it just happens [he bends a finger down and cracks it with his thumb Tokyo Ghoul style to demonstrate the faint momentary glow]

[Will stars heading to the wi dow thats currently letting the most light in] and for the last one I can actually do this [he peaks out, searching and finding the sun, which hes stares at for a couple seconds before looking back, a finger pointing at his eyes, which have slitted protectively like a cats, slowly expanding out to normal human pupils again] Sun's never really hurt me before

And i love oreos. The classic one only though

[gothdabi]

i may be disabled but the internet has gotten so insufferable that i wish i had a job so i didn’t see half of this “drama” that’s just people being angry and pointing fingers at each other

[princess-self-shipping]

I'm working on silly doodle pages and a guide for how I draw the iterators and think things through with them but like

Holy fuck

This sketch I did for the Sliver of Straw section. Why am I obsessed with it? o.o

[magichats]

I have lots of thoughts about Deltarune and i'm showing so much restraint not going into my absolutely implausible theories on main.

Mostly because I think it's fun to think up theories but I don't think anyone would take them seriously

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

What if I was insane again about the first thing Alpha Grim Sonic hearing when Nine creates him is his purpose—that he is Nine's friend?

Friendship as a concept in Prime is handled interestingly among its main characters. As Sonic (who thinks he knows a lot about friendship) comes to deepen his understanding of what it means to have a home/be home, I think it's safe to say his definition of friendship develops along with it. Compare this to Nine, who's learned everything he knows about "friendship" and personal relationships in general through his relationship with Sonic (at least, after his childhood of bullying).

So of course I think about Nine, who never wants to be hurt again, yet can no longer bear feeling alone (not after feeling that sense of companionship and belonging with someone else), which results in him creating a warped version of friendship for himself (one where he is surrounded by people, but people who only do whatever he wants, who have no opinions and thoughts of their own, who can't backstab him). And so I think about Alpha Grim Sonic, who is the very first robot Nine creates under this idea of frienship and companionship.

Nine is his master, and Alpha Grim Sonic is his protector, his bodyguard, his weapon

But he's also his friend.

Alpha Grim Sonic doesn’t talk back (can't even if he wanted to), but his purpose has always been clear to him: be Nine's friend. That's what he was created to be.

So I imagine Alpha Grim Sonic performing his purpose to the T at first under Nine's framework. He's Nine's friend, so he does whatever Nine commands, he never talks back or challenges authority, he protects Nine at all cost. And then, perhaps unbeknownst to Nine, he begins to shift ever so gradually. Sure, he's never insubordinate, he never offers up opinions, he still can't speak, but the lines of devotion begin to blur.

Is it in his code? Is out of a real sense of feeling?

Alpha Grim Sonic does not understand friendship, no matter whether it believes it does or not. But it's ironic to me if, despite being created under Nine's warped idea of it, the robot slowly grows their own soul, witnesses other displays of frienship and care, and drifts outside the bounds of that idea (a carefully crafted painting begins to leak out of its frame, expanding the masterpiece). They protect Nine, they do only what he commands, and yet they hate to see Nine in pain, they wish to bring Nine comfort (and so it feels good to him when Nine commands him to do such things that might bring his master comfort).

Does this make any sense? To believe that friendship means to hold one person on a pedestal, to protect them, to only listen to them, to never talk back, to never have opinions, and yet, despite believing what your creator tells you of friendship with them (your very purpose in this existence), to slowly fall further into those feelings that true care and love for another person brings, to wish to comfort someone the way one might describe a true friend would, despite not realizing any of this.

[diwatyara]

jollibee fandom, i know fandom wiki sucks but why does it say hetty is jollibee's girlfriend, twirlie and yum are brothers, and popo and hetty are twins.

[todayisafridaynight]

daigo promoting mine to junior assistant early on was INSANE. i know people were spreading rumors cuz id be pretty salty like what’s so special abt this mine guy and what’s with this daigo favoritism!!!!!

daigos not even trying to be subtle about how fond he was of mine he's giving him The Most Public promotions possible 💀💀

[edupunkn00b]

Where the Air is Sweet, Chapter 5

Photo by Rachel Martin on Unsplash

Prev - Ch. 5 - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 1881 - Rating: T - CW: fluff, teensy bit of unfounded worry, a smidge of non-sexual D/s.

The hot water turned on with a little squeak, something that used to irritate Logan when he and Patton had first moved into their apartment. It would grate on him, and his jaw would clench as he’d silently—or not so silently—curse the plumber who’d installed it with insufficient lubrication.

But then one day, Patton had called him in when he’d been preparing his own bath. Enveloped in a fuzzy towel and his baby blue polka-dotted cap on his head, Patton had turned the knob back and forth while squeezing his rubber duck.

“Listen, Lo! They make the same sound!” he’d laughed, the naked joy on his face infectious. Logan couldn’t help but laugh along.

Ever since that day, no matter how tired he was, no matter how long of a day he’d had, that little squeak never failed to curl Logan’s lips into a smile each time he started his shower. He adjusted the spray so only a little water would hit the aromatic tab he'd placed in the corner of the tub, then undressed and tested the temperature. It was still heating up, so he took a moment to stretch before removing the small necklace he wore under his shirt.

He kept the key for it in his dopp kit, hidden in an otherwise empty razor box. Not that he feared Patton would ever violate his privacy by rifling through his belongings, it just felt… safer to keep the key tucked away.

Patton didn’t know about this necklace. Using his reflection to find the tiny keyhole, Logan shrugged to himself. Necklace wasn’t quite the right word for the delicate silver band he wore low on his neck, just above his clavicle. The shop where he’d bought it, not at Mr. D’s, but one two towns over, had labeled it a… collar.

At the time, Logan couldn’t identify what had driven him to research the topic. If asked now, he wasn’t sure he’d really be able to explain. He’d come across a mention of it in a book of poetry. One which he’d wrapped in another dust jacket to obscure its unusual title. The poem had spoken reverently of a collar worn by the writer. It spoke of love and peace, of the quiet that fell over the poet when his… friend had latched it into place around his neck.

Phrases and feelings from the poem danced in Logan’s head for months after he’d first read it. The soft hush that eased sharp, anxious thoughts. The certainty of being needed and wanted and cared for that the simple circle of leather and metal had granted the author.

Logan longed for that.

He’d felt compelled to learn more and, slowly, furtively, as he did with any problem or idea, he researched it. And eventually, that research had brought him to Stolitz’ Treasures.

“Are you looking for something for a gift?” the tall, thin man behind the counter had asked. His voice lilted almost musically, and he spoke deliberately, as though he chose his words with care.

Logan’s cheeks had flushed at the question. “W—well, actually, I am looking for something for myself.”

“Ah, I thought so,” he’d suddenly grinned and nodded knowingly. “No shame in that, not everyone’s needs to be gifted to them.” Long, thin fingers came up and stroked the red and black jewel that hung from a choker around his own neck. “Did you have something in mind already or would you like to browse in peace?”

“Perhaps it would be helpful to look around a bit?” There was a dizzying array of items in the glass cases, rings and bracelets and… collars. The shopkeeper smiled and nodded, then stepped back with a welcoming gesture toward the displays.

Logan had nearly given up, overwhelmed with choice, when a small blue heart hanging from a silver collar had caught his eye. His hand had moved almost automatically, bumping the glass as he reached for it. “Ah, you have a fondness for denim lapis, I see.” The shopkeeper was already opening the case.

“I… I didn’t know lapis grew in both shades of blue in the same stone,” Logan had stammered. “I’ll take it,” he'd said before he could overthink it.

That had been three months ago. Logan didn’t wear his collar everyday. Well… at least not at first. But on days he'd abstained, he’d quickly found himself missing the gentle weight, the way both the stone and the silver warmed against his skin throughout the day. It fit nicely under his shirts and ties and his fingers felt the tiny heart each time he straightened his Windsor knot.

The shopkeeper had warned him the stone could be discolored by some soaps, so he removed it before each shower and, of course, before swimming with Patton. A small part of himself hated to take it off and shame flushed his cheeks. What would Patton think if he knew?

“Lo?” As though summoned, Patton called to him. Logan fumbled the key and it clinked at the bottom of the sink before disappearing down the drain.

“No!” he said, louder than he’d meant to.

“Lo, are you okay?” Patton asked, knocking on the door. “Can I get you something?”

“Uh… uh…” Panic coursed through his veins and his hands shook. He stretched over the sink, reaching for a flashlight from the cabinet, but bumped the faucet. Water rushed down the drain, washing away the key. “Oh, no,” he near-sobbed.

“Lo? Lo, you don’t sound okay…” Patton knocked again. “Please, what’s wrong?”

Without the key there was no way he could get this off. Even if he could somehow protect the precious stone in the shower, he and Patton were due to go to the beach together tomorrow. They’d been planning it for weeks. If he backed out now, Patton would know something was wrong. There'd be no way to hide this collar on the beach. No way to postpone until he could return to the shop for assistance. He could face the music now, or could face it later. Either way…

He’s your friend. He’ll understand.

Patton knocked again. “Um, just a moment,” Logan managed and turned off the shower. Delaying the inevitable, he took his time pulling on his robe and tied it tightly before glancing in the mirror. Without his flannel pajama top, the silver collar poked out, glinting brightly against his skin.

Wordlessly, he opened the door.

“Lo! Are you—“ Patton rushed inside, reaching for him and patting his shoulders and upper arms. Head hung low, Logan stared at the tessellating tile floor, afraid to see Patton’s initial response.

But Patton was having none of that. Logan shivered when Patton’s soft, warm hand cradled his jaw and lifted his chin until their eyes met. “Lo, what’s wrong?”

Unsure how to explain, unsure there really was any way he could explain, Logan pulled aside his robe just enough to show the collar. “I dropped the key down the drain,” he admitted.

“Key?” Patton asked, blinking at him. “Why does your neckl—Oh…” His words faded and he stared at Logan's collar. 

Patton’s fingers now felt cool against his skin, shame burning over his face. Logan closed his eyes, waiting for whatever Patton might say, whatever judgement might fall. He wasn’t sure what was worse, buying himself the collar and hiding it, having his secret revealed, or losing the key out of sheer clumsiness. All of it swirled together, spinning in his head until the blood roared in his ears and he imagined falling through a hole in the floor or washing himself down the drain just as sure as he’d—

“Lo.” His eyes snapped open and he stared back at his friend. Patton smiled at him, and when he spoke, his voice was low and soft. He pointed at another towel folded on the edge of the tub, creating a padded seat. When had Patton set that there? “Sit down for me, Lo.”

Nodding, Logan sat and Patton stood in front of him. “May I?” he asked, fingers hovering over the collar. Logan nodded again, but Patton simply waited, eyebrows raised.

“Y—yes,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

Smiling again, Patton smoothed his fingertips over the delicate silver band, then cradled the tiny heart affixed near the locking mechanism. Logan shivered at the gentle touch. “It’s lovely, Lo,” he murmured. “This stone is in both of our favorite colors, too.”

Logan nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat and his adam’s apple grazed against Patton’s knuckles with the movement.

Patton moved his hand then, cradling Logan’s face between his hands. “You’re scared,” he whispered and Logan avoided his gaze. “Oh, Lo, were you afraid I wouldn’t like it?”

“What?” Eyes wide, Logan finally met his eyes again. “N—no… I… Well…”

“I think I can help you take this off,” he leaned close, squinting at the lock for a moment before a bright smile bloomed across his face. “I’ve locked myself out often enough to have picked up a few tricks from the locksmith.”

“You won’t have to break it?” Logan’s hand moved to the collar. While he was confident he could repair it—or find someone who could—just the thought of damaging the delicate metal made something deep under his breastbone ache.

“Only if you asked me to.” Still smiling, Patton stroked his cheek. “Wait for me here?”

“Of course.”

Patton pressed a kiss on his forehead then hurried out and down the hall. He rustled in the kitchen utility drawer for a minute, then returned with a set of tiny screwdrivers. “I think this will work. Lift your chin for me,” he murmured, directing Logan’s gaze up to the ceiling.

After a few moments of fidgeting, the quiet click of the lock disengaging filled Logan’s ears, followed by Patton’s quiet cheer. “Got it! Look!”

The collar seemed even more delicate in Patton’s hands, but he held it with the same care he’d used when helping Logan with the baby pigeons last spring. “Were you taking this off to protect it from your shower?”

Logan nodded. Was this when Patton would ask him not to wear it? Did he—

“Would you like me to help you put it back on again when you’re done?”

“You…” He wasn’t entirely certain he’d heard him correctly. “You don’t think it’s… odd?”

Patton smiled and shook his head. “It looks lovely on you.” His brow furrowed when Logan remained silent. “Do you wish it was still your secret? I can—”

“No.” The word spilled from his lips without his control but Logan knew it was true. “No, I… I like you knowing and…” His mouth clamped shut, cutting off his next thought before it, too, could break free and shatter whatever this fragile thing between them was.

“And?” Patton prompted. He smiled, but his voice told Logan he wasn’t getting out of this discussion without finishing his thought.

He looked down at the collar in Patton’s hands and closed their fingers over it. “And I’d like it if you helped me put it on,” he said more to his hands than anything else. "Even after I get a new key."

“Oh, Lo,” Patton murmured, wiggling one hand free to lift his chin. Impossibly, he was still smiling. “It would be my pleasure.”