#it looked fine in my laptop lol 😭

[lifeonmvrs]

happy holidays from attorney matt murdock (who is definitely not daredevil)

[Image Description: a half-body digital drawing of matt murdock from the daredevil comics. he is wearing a red sweater with white text that reads “i’m not daredevil”, a diadem with devil horns on his head, and black glasses. he’s standing with open arms and a cheerful expression while holding a white cane decorated to look as a candy cane with a little plant at the top end. at the right, there’s a bubble text reading “happy holidays, people!”. the background is a solid red with an ugly sweater pink pattern with crosses and devil horns hands. /end ID]

[swordmaid]

ive been trying to figure out why my lines were looking so pixelated on sai like ive been fiddling around with my settings for a good hour but it turns out its my monitor smh -_-

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

------------------------------------------ 

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[paradiseprincesss]

Absolutely ANYTHING with psychiatrist reader x patient jon crane! We don’t have enough of these 😭 and I loveee your fics so far!

Just a suggestion, maybe him meeting reader who has suppressed feelings for him in order to not cross any professional boundaries, at her place after breaking out of Arkham. Could be angsty with some intense lovemaking afterwards (once again, it’s totally up to you what you want to write. This was just an idea I had. No smut is fine too)

experience | jonathan crane

hello my love - this is such a good idea! i tried to write it the way you explained it so i hope this lives up to all ur expectations haha <3 and thank you for the kind words! i had so much fun writing this!

summary: falling in love with your patient was not something you ever thought you'd experience - but what if he's fallen for you too?

warnings: mentions of suicide, swearing, p in v, masturbation, slight choking, kind of size kink lowkeyyy, just smut lol, mdni 18+ only

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

working at arkham asylum was...interesting to say the least. you were in the last year of your psychiatry residency, and after this you'd be a full, licensed, practicing doctor specializing in psychiatry. it was exciting for sure, but dealing with your patients at arkham was no easy feat.

you'd seen it all - criminals, drug addicts, the insane; all of it. every single day there was something, wether that was an patient or inmate causing a riot or someone having a mental breakdown and hanging themselves in their cell - there was always something happening.

however, there was one patient; inmate - that stood out the most to you; jonathan crane.

he'd been your patient for the last eight months as none of your colleagues wanted to take him on because of who he was - but you loved a challenge. you wanted to prove yourself to your higher-ups, you wanted to show the preceptor in charge your residency program to see what you were capable of.

so, you offered to take him off everyone else's hands - and well, you'd come to partially regret that decision. however, your higher-ups and preceptor were impressed by your skills. he wasn't easy to deal with, that's for sure. he was the scarecrow after all - and don't forget, he was a psychiatrist himself.

though, you had a hold on him the same way he had a hold on you - but you didn't tell him that. jonathan made it clear from the start that he found you attractive, even behind bars and wrapped up in a straightjacket he would find ways to flirt with you, talk to you, or get your attention.

today, you had a scheduled session with jonathan to see if any progress was being made regarding his medication (which you knew he never took), and his behaviour.

your black pumps clicked against the wooden floor, and you closed the door quietly behind you, taking a seat in your office chair. you pulled up his file quickly on your laptop, and he sat a few feet away from you on the plush couch in your office. straightjacket and all.

"good morning, jonathan." you say, finally looking up from your laptop and locking eyes with him - god, his eyes were so pretty.

he never addressed you as "doctor" with your last name following, but instead, he insisted on calling you by your first name, or some pet name he felt like using that day.

you didn't mind actually, he was one of your more...tame and easy patients that you had, if not the easiest to deal with.

"you look beautiful as always." he said, and you smile at him sweetly. "thank you, jonathan."

today, you wore a black, mid-length pencil skirt and white blouse, with your hair down in your favourite style, some black pumps - and you finished it off with your doctors coat, of course.

skimming over his file, you type a few quick notes into your laptop - freshly done nails clicking over the keys in the otherwise silent office. after that, you got up and went over to him, helping him out of the straightjacket as he sat there in his white arkham inmate jumpsuit.

at first, you didn't let him have this privilege, but as he proved himself to be non-temperamental over time, it started off with the loosening of the straightjacket just a little...then taking it off fully but making sure he wore handcuffs. slowly, under your careful watch, you allowed him the freedom of zero restraints in your office once he proved he wasn't a threat or a danger towards you.

"let's get you out of this." you say softly, and he stays quiet for a moment, just stretching once the restraint was fully off of him. you had a different method of approaching him than the other doctors who worked (and gave up) with him.

you noticed that in a calmer, less hectic environment he responded better. so instead of having check-ups in his cell or in an interrogation room like you did with all your other patients, you let him chill in your office - restraint free.

you returned to your chair, and started to type away as you asked him the usual questions.

"how are you feeling today?"

"fine, i missed seeing your face though. seeing you three times a week isn't enough for me anymore." he says to you, making you stop typing and look up at him.

"please elaborate for me, jonathan." you say clinically, trying to ignore the way your heart started to race when he said that.

"you know what i mean. you're the only thing keeping me sane in here." he says to you with a pleading tone, making you sigh as you continue to write down your clinical notes onto the laptop.

"but you're making progress, jonathan. you seem to be doing better, there's no need for me to be seeing you more frequently." you answer curtly, but pause for a moment for letting the next few words slip out in a hushed tone, "...unless you feel like you need a few extra therapy sessions on a weekly basis."

he smirks, looking you up and down - clearly checking you out with no shame. "that's exactly what i need. i'm going crazy without you. i'd be so good to you if you were mine..." he throws in that last part quickly, but you catch it.

you clear your throat and try not to pay any mind to it, as to appear professional - but he's slowly breaking your walls down. he already has. you couldn't even lie to yourself - you were attracted to your patient. fuck, maybe you were even in love with him - how could you not be?

the fluffy brown hair, slightly tousled and messy, those beautiful, blue eyes that reminded you of sapphires, those plump, pink lips that-

no, stop it, you told yourself, focus on your job.

"ah, um- have you been taking your medications?" you ask softly, giving him a small smile to which he returns. "...yeah." he says hesitantly, and you know he's lying - you find the little cup the nurses gave him full of the pills he's supposed to be taking every time you check up on how he's feeling in his cell.

but you turn a blind eye - you may have been giving him special treatment because you were attracted to him, but you tried to tell yourself it was fine, that it wasn't like you were breaking any professional boundaries because technically, you didn't act on his advances - yet.

"good, just wanted to make sure." you speak in a hushed tone again, typing up all information in his file.

"you're a really good doctor." he says, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you, "you work hard, i can tell."

"thanks, jonathan." you say, trying your hardest to sound detached as you keep your eyes on the laptop in front of you, continuing to type away but he speaks again.

"you're welcome. you're so pretty." he sighs, "is it wrong for me to be having these thoughts about-? never mind, actually."

now it was your turn to sigh, looking up at him with a raised brow. you knew what he was doing, he was literally trying to play mind games with you. he was on purposely trying to get you to pry so he could flirt with you more - but that was your job...right? to pry?

"what thoughts?" you ask, biting your lip. "i have to ask cause...it's my job to know what's going on up here." you gesture to your own temple. he knew that this was indeed your job - to know what was going through his mind.

buuuuut you were definitely curious. the way he would talk to you gave you butterflies. the way he would act out and act violently to everyone except you gave you butterflies - even though it shouldn't have.

"i just can't get you out of my mind, pretty girl. you do things to me. 'm thinking about you when i'm all alone in my cell, how your body would feel. how it feels to kiss you, hold you. what it's like to love you." he breaths out, and you look at him incredulously, feeling your cheeks heat up at his admission.

"well," you stay, breathing slightly staggered now, "you must have an active imagination, then." you couldn't look him in the eye after that. you were trying so hard to suppress your feelings for him that were ever growing.

although one part of you knew it was wrong on both ends, wrong of you to let him effect you this way (and letting it happen), and wrong of him to be talking to you like this - you couldn't stop yourself. however, a part of you wondered if this was really how he felt - or if it was just some ploy to get out of arkham. perhaps he thought if he could get into your head, you would either help him escape or sign his release papers.

you always tried to force yourself to believe that to prevent your fantasies from growing any further - but it drove you wild.

"i know you feel the same way," his voice cut through the silence, snapping you out of your thoughts again, "i have a doctorate in psychiatry - don't forget i can also see right through you and your thoughts too."

"i-i can assure you that this is strictly professional - you and i. i mean, even if it were true, that it was mutual, it wouldn't work. you're my patient in an asylum for the criminally insane and i'm your doctor because you are criminally insane." you say, looking at him with a stoic expression, though both you and him knew of the feelings that were lurking underneath your "professional" facade. "plus, saying this won't help you get out of here any quicker. i'm not stupid."

you entirely regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth, and he shot you a look of surprise.

suddenly, he got up off the couch and made his way over to your desk - your heart now palpitating in ways you didn't even realize was physically possible.

he placed his hands on the desk, looming over you - but not in a psychotic way - or threatening, even. he just looked at you up and down, with a small smirk.

"why can't you just give in? i'm not going to tell anyone. it's not like i can, anyway." he said jokingly, but went back to being serious quickly. "please."

the way he said "please" made your breath hitch, and you look up at him with poorly concealed desire. "w-we can't, okay? we just...can't."

"but i have feelings for you - and i know you do too." he insists, and you get up out of your chair, walking over to him, having to look up at him due to your height difference.

"how i feel isn't important," you state, trying so hard not to break your facade. "if you really cared about me, you would stop doing this to me. stop making my job harder than it has to be, please jonathan. it's- it's just not fair. telling me this won't make me sign those papers-"

"fuck the papers, i don't need anything as long as i have you. you're-" he exasperates, but pauses before continuing, "you're all i have in here, you're the only one who's treated me like a person, like a real person with valid emotions. you know who i am and you don't have any fear - you aren't scared of me. you see me for...me."

silence.

after he confessed that to you, it was silent. he stood there, looking at you through his wire-frame glasses that he always wore, and you stood there in shock. at that moment, you didn't know what to say - what to do.

"i'm not feeling well," you suddenly say, "i-i'm going to take the rest of the day off. i'm going to call a nurse to escort you back to your cell." you say quickly, trying to keep your composure.

you weren't very good at that when he was around, but he didn't say anything. he let you process your emotions in your own way - of course he would. but he was plotting.

you paged a nurse to escort him back to his cell early, and you didn't dare look at him when they took him out of your office - too embarrassed and such to do so.

that night, when you got home, you decided to take the next few days off work before returning - you were too high strung with anxiety for work right now; and the cause of that anxiety was literally at work.

you ran yourself a hot shower, dried your hair, and got ready for bed throwing on your silk nightie in your favourite colour. that night, you couldn't sleep at all - constantly tossing and turning in bed, thoughts running wild.

why did it all have to be so complicated?

you didn't understand, honestly. the one guy who actually managed to steal your heart happened to be...him.

you laid in the dark quietly, the only thing light source being the tv on the wall of your bedroom. the sound of your tv playing faintly in the silence, some random show you put on was on in the background.

"can't sleep either?" a familiar voice said softly from the doorway of your bedroom, causing you to let out a small scream from being startled - nobody expects someone to be in their house at nearly 3 am unnoticed.

"what the fuck?!" you say, reaching to turn the light on your bedside table on, and sat up in your bed - seeing the one and only jonathan crane standing in your bedroom looking a little different than before.

he had escaped, that much was clear. but instead of that stupid inmate jumpsuit, he was in his actual suit and tie attire but no scarecrow mask.

"sorry, darling." he cringed at the way he startled you. "hear me out, please. you look beautiful, by the way. you always do."

"jonathan-" you warned.

"i know." he says, walking towards you, now sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched in both fear and awe. "i can't let you go. if 'professional boundaries' are whats standing between us-"

"you broke into my house, jonathan!" you exclaim, cutting him off but he just gives you a small smile, which made your heart leap. "and i'm sorry for that," he explains, "but like i said, now there is nothing standing in between us."

you look at him, and your jaw almost drops. was he for real right now?

"i just wanted you to know that, um, i wasn't just saying those things with the hope that you'd ya know - release me from arkham." he says to you softly, and you nod. "well, you've made that pretty clear by doing...this." you tell him, a small smile playing on your lips.

god, he was crazy - but he was crazy over you, and maybe you were fucked up in your own little way because you found it endearing, the thought of it all excited you.

"you don't need to fight the feeling anymore." he informs you softly, reaching a hand out for you to take - and you do. his hands were surprisingly soft, a little calloused but soft.

"you know how i feel about you, i want to be yours - i want us." you finally tell him.

"be mine, then." he whispers, and you crawl over to him on your king sized bed. you crawl onto his lap, and you can already feel him getting harder by the minute.

"i can't sleep, dr. crane." you tease, calling him 'dr. crane,' instead of the usual 'jonathan.'

he places a trail of kisses down your neck softly, pushing your hair back to do so, and whispers softly to you. "why don't you let me take care of you for once?"

the words gave you shivers, and you felt yourself getting wetter with every word he said - hanging onto them with desperation. "please, baby." you whisper, and he pulls you into a frenzied kiss.

his lips were soft - so soft. you kiss him back and he takes his time with you, hands roaming all over your body as he explored your mouth. you moaned softly into the kiss, giving him the green light to keep going. he pulled away from the kiss hesitantly to undress you.

slowly, he pulled the skimpy little nightie you wore to bed down, past your shoulders - then all the way down. you felt the cold air of your room hit your bare chest, but that feeling was replaced with the new sensation of jonathans warm mouth taking one of your nipples in his mouth. he took the bud in his mouth, licking and sucking.

"oh, baby." you say, letting out a breathless moan at the sensation. in response, he took hold of your other breast and started to play with your nipple between his fingers.

"fuck, need you so bad." you say, profanities leaving your mouth every five seconds with the way he was touching you. "yeah? tell me how badly you need me, sweetheart." he says to you, coming back up to trail kisses along your jawline and neck.

"i need you so bad, jon. please, you're everything i want." you tell him, breathless and soaked. he snaked his hand up to your neck and gave it a light squeeze, keeping his hand there. "fucking jerked off to the thought of you every night in arkham," he says, making your cheeks heat up from the thought, "every time we had our little scheduled meetings - fuck, you looked so good. just the thought of you alone had me cumming all over my fist instantly."

"i-i touched myself to the thought of you in my bed, too." you tell him, making him smirk. "did you?" he cooed, "why don't you show me how you did it. let me see."

that had you blushing, and you swallowed. you nervously laid back, propped up on your elbows as he watched. with a little hesitance, you spread your legs - suddenly feeling very vulnerable. he watched you intently, still smirking, and ran his hand along your lower leg - slowly trailing it up to your thighs, rubbing up and down.

"don't be shy, sweetheart." he says lowly, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening cunt on full display for him. you take your hand and slowly started to rub your clit in front of him, and you can feel how wet you are.

tossing your head back slightly, and closing your eyes you let out a filthy moan, and he groans at the sight of you. you hear his belt buckle being undone, and you open your eyes to see him pulling his cock out - fat and leaking at the tip.

he positioned himself between your spread legs - your hand still rubbing your clit. he started to stroke his cock slowly, the pre cum leaking out the pink head of his cock. it was so big it looked like it could split you in two. "feel good, princess?" he asked, making you nod and moan.

"f-fuck, yeah. f-feels ah- so good, baby." you respond, and he started to rub the head of his cock through your sticky, soaking folds making you whine. "please!"

he chuckled lowly, and pushed into your soaked cunt with no warning. your hands flew to his shoulders, and his hand snaked to your clit to replace yours. "oh fuck-" you say, his cock stretching you out to the limit. you felt so full.

"jesus, sweetheart," he moans as he sunk into you, "fuck- tightest pussy i've ever had. best pussy i've ever had, actually." he decided as he started to thrust himself in and out of you.

"right there, baby ah-" you moan, looking up at him. his fat cock was stretching you so good - he was so deep. as his fingers played with your clit, you couldn't help but start screaming out his name.

"jonathan, fuuuck-!" you were a screaming, moaning mess for him - and he adored it. the sight alone almost had him cumming into your tight little cunt. as he pounded the same spot in your cunt, you felt yourself about to cum for him.

"i-i'm gonna fucking cum, please." you started to beg incoherently, and he moaned as he felt your pussy tighten up around his cock. "cum for me baby, i wanna see your pretty face when you cum." he says to you softly, voice saccharine.

as you came all over his cock, you swore you saw stars. the feeling was otherworldly when your orgasm washed over you. jonathans thrusts started to get sloppy and erratic indicating that he was about to cum, too.

"gonna fill this little pussy up, make sure everyone knows your mine, fuck-" he grunted, "you're gonna be dripping with my cum."

he fucked his cock into you a few more times before stilling with a groan, and his cock twitched inside of you; spilling all of his cum into your cunt, filling you up with everything he had.

he pulled out slowly, and used his fingers to push his cum back into your cunt as soon as it started to leak out, causing you to moan. "what a sight." he sighs out of breath, and you giggle breathlessly to that.

"can we cuddle?" you ask quietly, and he was already pulling you into his arms. "open." he says, fingers covered with both your fluids mixed together at your lips. you wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking them and swallowing the mixture with a little moan. "such a pretty, obedient girl." he coos, making you blush.

you settle into his arms, exhausted, and he holds you close as his heart beat heavily in his chest. he placed a kiss on the top of your head, and you felt your eyes grow heavy.

when you went back to work, you knew you would have to pretend that you didn't know where or how jonathan escaped arkham (to be fair - you still weren't 100% sure on how he actually escaped), but that was still a few days down the road - you were too fucked out and sleepy to think about that right now.

"go to sleep, sweetheart." he says to you softly, turning the light on your bedside table off, "i'll be here when you wake up - i'll always be here. i love you."

with a content sigh, and a sleepily mumbled little "i love you too," you fell asleep wrapped up in your no-longer-forbidden lovers embrace for the night.

together at last.

[pleucas]

hello! may i ask what device are you using to draw? You mentioned using Procreate, so i think it's an iPad, but i was wondering what model it is and if you'd recommend it for painting

hey there!

thanks for sending in an ask. i’m pretty sure i have the iPad Pro 2020, 12.9in. i use a gen 2 apple pencil with it :)

and abt digital painting etc…

i’d def recommend it for digital painting! since it’s an old model you’d prob be able to get a discount for it, or find a used one in good condition 👍👍 the screen size is sometimes excessive for me, i think the 11in model or anything smaller would work fine. only concern there would be functionality and memory, bc digital painting is very storage taxing

i’ve been using this guy for four years and she’s holding up very well. i’ve noticed that the battery is less effective (draining quicker, charging slower, etc) but it hasn’t severely inebriated my painting practice

i used to have a paper feel screen protector for it, but for the past year i’ve taken it off. i think there was just an adjustment period from traditional to digital and i hated the slippery screen, but i noticed it wore down my pen nib really quickly lol. now i use a nib with a metal tip (kinda looks like a mechanical pencil tip) and the smoothness doesn’t bother me as much. just took some time getting used to

smth abt digital painting on procreate/ipad that i both hate and love is the color display. apple color display is super good, almost too good… laptop/phone screens don’t match up and i find myself editing things for posts or printing lol. important to note, apple specifically functions in their own RGB scale, so exporting files from procreate preserves that color profile. it’s not compatible with printing, sharing, or anything LOL so be careful to convert things to sRGB (learned this the very hard way…)

i do hate procreate sometimes because their DPI is just. SOOOO low. if you transform or rotate anything then it pixelates 😭 i enabled all the hacks and nothing helped. nowadays i set up my canvas to be 3k+ pixels on at least one axis and 600dpi, it’s marginally better but i def do adjust my process to avoid any transformations 😞 maybe its just particularly bad for my style bc i like my details n Things all over the place but yeaaa prolly the biggest pitfall for ipad/procreate

another note (not rlly digital art related), i pretty much just use my ipad for digital painting, gaming sometimes (i had a crazy genshin/hsr phase), note taking on pdfs whtv. it prolly averages to ~2.5 hours per day, which isn’t a lot. so idk if you plan to use an ipad more intensively (ik some pals who deck out their ipad and basically use it as a laptop), then aforementioned problems might be a much larger issue

this got suuuuper long i apologize but all in all, ipad is def good for digital painting! it’s accessible, customizable, transportable (even with my massive 13in screen LOOOOL), and worth :) but at the end of the day, it’s a tool and its utility is what you make of it. hope i could help!

[thunder-shadow]

ive got many!!! 1, 4, 5, 8, 17, 21, 27, 28, 37?!

Thank uuu <333333

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

Oh boy, yeah I daydream a lot haha - usually I get an idea and write down the bare info for it (like the ship and maybe one or two scene ideas) and then I just let it marinate for a bit, usually listening to music or reading! Then ideas usually pop in from there XD I'm a daydreamer all the way

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

Usually it's just whichever one I feel needs attention at the moment? Or whatever my brain latches onto haha

Like yesterday I meant to edit the GHE chapter so it could be posted, but instead I wrote the Earthcury one-shot turned multi-chap (which I wanna finish b4 I post it)

It's very wishy-washy is what I'm saying LOL

5. How many wips do you have?  What fandoms/pairings are they for?

All of WIPs are for SolarBalls haha I can only write for one fandom at a time XD

Okay, so obviously I have the GHE fic, the Jupixturnus fic, the Vercury fic, and now the Earthcury fic (those are all multi-chaps); then I have my oneshots, of which I plan to write Vars, Vearth, another UraEarth, a fluffy Jupiturnus one, a Poly Rocky planets one, and I still have a Sol & Nemesis one with snippets, as well as the post-paranoia Luna fic that still needs its chapter two LOL (and then I have a titanearth smut + jupixturnus smut that i'm thinking abt but shhhhhh)

That doesn't even count the random ideas I've just jotted down in my notes app LOL

8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Oh gee, lemme find one I feel like posting!! I don't have any spoilers to be honest, bc i haven't written since i posted the ghe one or i would've used that 😭 so just have a snippet from my latest wip

I actually posted this the other day but deleted it like immediately LOL but here! from my earthcury college AU

‘Okay,’ Earth thought, narrowing his eyes. ‘First midterm is in 7 days. One week. You’ve got this,’ and he pumped his fist, ignoring the weird looks a couple of people threw at him. ‘Just need to study. Actually study for once.’ Then he looked down at the multitude of papers spread out in front of him, his laptop propped open to a chemistry video from a Youtuber he’d found on line, and groaned, letting his face fall onto the table. Across from him, Mars let out a laugh, flipping another page in his book. “Earth, I don’t know what your definition of studying is, but putting your head on the table and giving up is not studying as far I’m aware.” Earth looked up at him through his lashes, sending him as much of an annoyed look as he could muster before groaning again. “Organic Chemistry is going to kill me! Why did I decide to become a biology major?” “I don’t know. Why did I decide to become an Astronomy major?” “Because you’re weirdly obsessed with aliens?” “Wha-” Mars spluttered, putting his book down and looking at Earth. “No!” “Because you weirdly like math?” “No, Earth, because I enjoy astronomy! I like learning about it!” Mars rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his water bottle after a second. “And I know you’re the same way about biology because we’ve been roommates since freshman year!” “Ughh,” Earth whined in response. “Just let me melt into a puddle and evaporate away so I don’t have to take these midterms.” “You could just study for them, you know.” “That was my plan! But that involves studying…” “Oh, wow,” Mars said, throwing him a stare that just dripped with disdain. “Studying involves studying, I really didn’t know that, Earth.” “Fine!” Earth stood up, shoving his stuff haphazardly into his backpack. “I’ll go to the library! And this time, I’m going to actually study!”

17. Do you have a writing routine?

Nope! I literally just sit down and start writing oop

21. Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

I prefer writing one-shots just bc it feels simpler, like a one-and-done LOL but multi-chaps can be fun too!!

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Being able to write a lot 😓 and body language, I feel quite confident in body language LOL

Also my grammar and language use, despite my copious use of em-dashes, semicolons, and ellipses I otherwise really just innately understand most grammar bc of how much I read when I was younger ‼️

28. What area of writing do you want to improve in?

DIALOGUE 😭😭😭

37. What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

The GHE fic hands down, it just feels so complicated 😭😭 I'm slowly chugging a lot, we're nearing the last few chapters :D

[hypersonic04]

I love your teacher!Ross concept and I had to send this. I saw this tik tok a while ago about this maintenance guy fixing things in a teachers classroom because he had a crush on her and I think Ross would 100% do this.

Shelf’s broke? He’s fixing it

Squeaky chair wheel? He’ll just buy a new version of the same one

Every time he’s in her classroom he’s looking around to see if there’s anything he can do to help make her life easier

I SAW THE EXACT SAME THING!! wasn’t it just so sweet?? when he painted her classroom for her!! and he asked her out and she rejected him!! 😭

anyway back to teacher Ross lol.

a thousand percent this is Ross. I think you’d be sat eating your salad at your desk one day during lunch, he’s sat at a school desk across from you with his laptop set up, supposedly lesson planning but far more invested in a story you’re telling him about one of your friends’ dogs.

“can you hear that?” you say suddenly, rolling your chair back and hearing it squeak and he’s like yeah, I can, and takes it upon himself to sort it out.

you’re like ‘it’s fine!! you have so much to do, I can live!!’ and he’s like yeah there’s no way I’m letting u have a squeaky chair disrupting you. he’s got his sleeves rolled up and you’re stood next to him with your arms folded as he looks at it, and he comes to the conclusion the you can just swap chairs with him. you protest it, but obviously he’s got his mind set on it. he goes and gets his chair from his classroom and swaps them, and you find yourself fighting the ridiculously big smile on your face.

I also think you’ve got a faulty window or a shelf like you said, and it’s been bugging you for ages. he’s watched you struggle with it, your books at an angle because you’ve managed to balance the shelf at a slant so it doesn’t completely collapse. you come into work one morning, rushed off your feet because it’s exam season, and it’s been fixed for you. your books are lined up neatly, and the shelf is fixed.

you immediately go to his classroom and poke your head round the door - ‘did you fix my shelf?’ - because there’s no one else in school that knows it’s broken. he’s smiling at you proudly, sat at his desk with his arms folded across his chest. ‘I got here early and I knew it was bothering you, just thought I might as well if I’ve got the time’ he rambles on a bit, trying to play it off cool, but really he’s been desperate to sort it out for you for ages. he trips over his words a bit when you smile at him sweetly - ‘thank you, really. I’ll pay you back in some way, promise!’. you smile as he purses his lips and blushes a little, telling you that he’ll ‘hold you to that!’ as you make your way back down the corridor.

[allylikethecat]

Just read your reply to an ask about a fix of matty singing them to sleep and the suggestion/idea of fictional Matty singing fictional George or vice versa to sleep has me wanting to eat my hand and sob (in a good way) 😭

The best way to deal with your self imposed stress of not finishing a fic by your self dictated deadline is obviously to work on a different one 😂 I felt really bad that I wasn't able to fill that one prompt request for that anon looking for a matty x reader blurb where he sung the reader to sleep (I don't see myself ever writing x reader fic i'm sorry!! there are so many wonderful talented people who do though! that's just not my writing niche unfortunately) ... but like was totally down to write one of him singing fictional!George to sleep, and then I saw that YOU lovely anon had sent this in in response to that ask, so obviously I had to jump it to the top of my massive list of prompt fill requests that I really do promise I will finish in 2024 lol

So, alas, here it is, Fictional!Matty sining Fictional!George to sleep. I hope you like it, if not let me know and I will attempt a take two! Thank you so much for sending this in though, and for reading, and being so lovely and supportive! I hope you have a very happy new year and a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

Singing to sleep

George was sick, and George never got sick. Matty was at his wits end, he was the one with the shit immune system. He was the one who didn’t take care of himself and allowed his body to get run down, seeming to constantly be coming down with a perpetual case of the sniffles. George did yoga. George remembered to eat, and drank water, and got the recommended eight hours of sleep each night. He wasn’t supposed to be congested and running a fever, a trail of used tissues laid out like bread crumbs as if he would lose his way back to the bedroom without them. 

George wasn’t supposed to be arguing with Matty that he wasn’t sick when he clearly was. Shaking his head, his voice rough and nasally, insisting that he was fine even as he had to halt his argument every few minutes to cough. George was not supposed to be sick, and with a sinking realization, Matty was learning that George was an even worse patient than he was. 

“Please,” Matty begged, he knew he looked ridiculous wearing the frilly apron his Mum had gotten him as a joke when they had bought the new house and Matty had shown her the high end kitchen as if he was going to actually use it. The joke was on her, he was wearing the apron and currently trying to use the kitchen. “Please just go lay back down.” 

“I’m fine,” George rasped again before breaking off into another coughing fit, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered. Matty glanced at the clock on the stove, it was still too soon for him to take another dose of paracetamol. 

“You are not fine!” Matty snapped, turning away from the stove and the soup that he hoped was simmering and not boiling, he wasn’t entirely sure of the difference. He waved his wooden spoon at George for dramatic effect. “You need to go lay down and get some fucking rest so you can get better!” 

George opened his mouth and Matty waved the spoon more aggressively, flicking his wrist at George. “No, no arguments, upstairs, now please, let’s go.” Matty said, nudging George’s shoulder so that he could guide him towards the staircase. 

George sighed, breaking off into another coughing fit, his shoulders shaking before doing as Matty said. He padded barefoot towards the stairs, Matty hot on his heels to make sure he actually got into bed instead of trying to snag his work laptop out of the office. The soup would be okay for a few minutes without him, Matty thought as they climbed the stairs. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be watching for anyway, or what he was even supposed to do if it did do something. 

Realizing he was still holding the spoon, Matty sheepishly sat it down on the dresser, brushing past George to fluff up his pillows and blankets.

“Get in the bed,” he said, holding his arms out as if he was a briefcase girl on a game show.  

“You trying to take advantage of me?” George rasped, batting his eyelashes teasingly, the effect was lost though by the glassy sheen of his eyes and his dry red nose. 

“Always,” Matty deadpanned and George sighed, climbing back into bed and allowing Matty to rearrange the blankets around him while he pouted like a child.

“Now get some rest,” Matty said, leaning down one last time to press a kiss to George’s forehead, frowning when he realized just how hot it was. He turned away, planning on heading into the bathroom to get George a damp wash rag to try and cool him down some before returning to his soup when George caught his wrist. 

“Wait,” said George looking up at Matty, looking extra pathetic with his pale skin, red nose and shiny eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” Matty assured him, his heart squeezing. “I’m just going to get you a cold rag.” 

“I’m fine,” George said again, his voice convincing absolutely no one. “But will you,” George flushed, and Matty wasn’t sure if it was from fever or embarrassment. George swallowed hard, his sore throat bobbing painfully. “Will you sing to me?”

Matty blinked, in confusion, not expecting the request. “What?” he asked dumbly and George’s blush deepened, embarrassment it is then, Matty thought fondly, his heart flipping at the request. 

“Will you sing me something?” George asked again, his eyes wide and earnest. “Please.” 

Matty exhaled slowly, he wanted to get George a cold wash rag for his forehead, and he needed to go check on his soup. But who was he to refuse George a song when he was poorly. 

“Yeah,” said Matty softly, feeling like his insides had turned to goo with just how much he loved George. “Yeah, I can sing you something.” 

His Gibson Hummingbird was leaning against a decorative chair where he had left it two days prior, and he winced, knowing he should have put it away properly but thankful for his laziness as he scooped it up, feeling silly as he quickly tuned it and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

He played the opening chord and George smiled, instantly recognizing the song. 

Tell me what you thought about

When you were gone and so alone

The worst is over

You can have the best of me

We got older but we're still young

We never grew out of this feeling that we won't give up

George was asleep, snoring softly, before Matty even finished the song. 

[fapper]

Analyzing shit… How I Know The TA Likes Me .

1. The very first time i went to his office hours, i remember getting help from him and he was lowkey unhelpful but he seemed like a really nice guy cuz im always cracking jokes w ppl, and he actually laughed at them lol. At first i didnt think anything abt this interaction but this is how i met him in person

2. I used to stay after office hrs ended to work on my homework, and his shift ends at 8PM, but he always overstayed by like 10 minutes helping people which was nice

3. In the following weeks, he helped me on a problem and he simply could not explain it to me well. It seemed like he was flustered and couldnt focus. As he was taking pauses and saying his “umms”, i looked at him and he immediately closed his eyes and dropped his head down…. Like bruh STAND UPPPPPP 😭😭😭😭 and so i got the feeling that maybe he got flustered from my making persisgent eye contact at him so he just decided to show me the entire solution on his laptop and i joked that hes about to get fired and he laughed and said no its fine. Lol. He was like. “Okay dont tell anybody this but im just gonna show you the solution”💀💀

4. The weeks after that i have not been able to get help from him and i feel as though its bc hes embarrassed from the above interaction we had. So boom i went to his review session and he was sitting near the white board. So boom i looked at him and he was already looking at me. So he quickly looks away and then right after he looks at me AGAIN and looks away immediately and then SMILES… but it was one of those “trying not to smile” smiles… meanwhile i was stonefaced bc i was thinking no way this man just smiled from my eye contact w him lmao

So as a TA having relationships w ur students is not allowed. But he obviously likes me, and i want him too. So like???? Ugh its just gonna be one of those “never worked out” things again which is sad cuz we obviously both like eachother. Smfh. What do yall think like does his overall behavior indicate that he likes me or.. Hehe

[prettyboykatsuki]

I know you answered this before but I couldn’t find it but what model is your laptop? I want you to buy one where I can play hsr and I’m curious about yours (graphic card, etc.)

Also do you game on your laptop only or do you have like a pc or ps/xbox

oh dude my laptop sucks ass LMAOOOO. broken af its an msi modern 15 and it has an nvidia 350 graphics card. ive made some of my own adjustments to it but that thing is busted beyond belief. like on its last legs w a keyboard that doesnt work. only runs okay cause of my external hard drive. i game on my laptop through cloud and play other games on an old ps4. i can comfortably run older titles though. if all you’re concerned about running is hsr its okay but not good and there’s better laptops you can run for better prices

im actually buying a new laptop this weekend LMAOO😭 getting the asus zephryus g16, 16gb memory and 512ssd. geforce rtx 4070 and decent specs for the price point. i was originally getting a diff one but it was out of budget after sale ended. not unhappy w what i have now though

if you’re looking for laptop recs i got u but the one ive listed above is generally best overall for mid range gaming laptops that can also be used for normal tasks like browsing and work. i would say if you’re really wanting good graphics nvidia 4050 is minimum (like if you’re rlly picky) but 3050 is fine if you’re only playing hsr+ memory at least 16gb… 32 is ideal but again costly depending on budget

i want a proper set up and i can afford it technically rn but my dream pc setup is much more expensive and i dont have a ton of space in my room since i still need my desk for school lol😔 laptop has more uses to me rn but yeah!!! let me know what else ur looking for and id be happy to help u

[beasttrash]

with twitter self imploding i thinking about shifting back here so i am cautiously starting with Some Thoughts on film red under the cut

yes!! i love the confirmation that usopp is the crew's stylist and makes their clothes. actually, i think oda might have mentioned something about usopp making t-shirts but i've also been re-reading saint young men so my wires are getting crossed, probably.

audience surrogate jinbe is great and helpful ngl. he's the only one asking the right questions and i love him for it. also?? they did just a fantastic job seamlessly adding him to the crew here. he had so many cool scenes i am so happy for him. 😭

i wanna say the most out of focus character in the movie was,,, zoro? he was. there. like he did a lot of cool things, but he didn't do a whole lot. which is fine bc i think characters like brook and usopp have been out of focus in the manga so giving them some time to shine isn't a bad thing. i honestly think the only thing zoro got out of the movie was free booze, he's happy. i'm happy.

we'll get to sanji. also zosan so do not fret i will be on brand for this.

im a dumbass who paid $25 US dollary doos for dolby digital (imax though, makes me nauseous) but holy fucking hell that was worth it, the music combined with the visuals looked so fucking Good on screen, i can't really imagine watching it on my laptop screen or even a tv. this is definitely the reason why we need theaters yet ngl.

uta gaslights the entire movie and we love her for it. i love oda's "were gonna make cute, morally ambiguous girlbosses" era

"oh no not another movie about a new character from a main character's childhood who we never met until now" actually i felt like uta's addition to the movie was a lot less contrived than sabo surviving a ship explosion, and tbf luffy is not really one to talk about his past all that much so it works for me.

most of the side characters were well intergrated into the movie with the exception of kalifa, i wish she'd done more but i guess there were already a lot of characters to organize.

im so happy they were like "brulee has such a fantastic devil fruit power we're gonna add her in here and also katakuri, sure, the people LOVE katakuri i love brulee she's so funny and my favorite charlotte sibling WEEPS

ok now we'll talk about the Boy.

sanji was a good boy

i love when sanji keeps his shit together, smooth operator sanji is such a Mood.

YES i did cry at him flirting with brulee omg that was such an adorable scene, i wish he was more flirty with older ladies like that. it feels so on brand for him to do that.

ok back in may i made a joke about sanji and zoro taking edibles in context of this movie and i didn't think there would be drugs in the film because of japan's views on illicit substances. and then uta slips sanji a shroom and i'm fuckin losing my shit. apollo pegging me with the dodgeball here.

music, violence, drugs, Woodstock 99 the anime. Anyway

i'll finish off this ramble with Zosan of course.

the pandering was so explicit i cannot believe toei made them sleep next to each other like a chaste 1950s couple with separate beds.

ok i said zoro did nothing earlier. 90 per cent of zoro's lines in the film were just him flirting with sanji and 45% of sanji's lines was him reciprocating. toei knows exactly what they are doing and its killing me.

the shoulder scene? fucking Shameless zoro. whore behavior.

imagine being anime only and watching zoro knock out a bunch of dudes with out even looking at them and sanji's leg turning into blue fire for 5 seconds. have fun wondering what that's all about.

and that 5 seconds where luffy does gear 5?? knocked my fuckin socks off

final thoughts: if i had the time i'd go watch it in theaters again. this movie?? this movie was made for me!! im sure there are a lot of flaws but personally it worked for what it was lol. 10/10.

[mal-warebytes]

😭 18 hours. Done. I'm done!

There's so much more I want to do with this but if keep tweaking it I'll never be "done" lol

BUT WHY DOES HE LOOK SO ORANGE on my phone!? Universal colors on screens please 🥲 looked much better on my laptop

It's fine, I'm fine

I applaud digital artists, I probably made this harder than it needed to be lol soooo many layers...

Anyway here's Buggy

Enjoy... or don't

I'm proud of myself and that's what matters 😌

But ya know if you wanted share or tell me I'm pretty I won't say no

Maybe a head pat would be nice

If you want to that is 👉👈

[cyrsed]

wip of a scene ive been vaguely thinking about for a bit. i'm maybe writing a drabble about it that would take place in the baggage hall when isaac first gets there after he's been scared shitless by the uh extreme carnage and violence

edit; this looks so much darker on my phone lol on my laptop i can see it fine 😭

[gideongrovel]

I always save my WIPs to my drafts on here at least the ones I plan to actually post lol this way i can look over the art to see how the colors look on a different screen,,,, and just to look over other details to see how they look on a smaller screen,,,, looking at it with fresh eyes can help to know what i need to fix or details I forgot,,, just a dif perspective helps alot,,,, and like I can add notes of thing to change on the post so i dont forget by the time i get back to my laptop and draw,,,

But it's been really helpful with like the pride art I'm doing, I spent most yesterday night messing around with the colors/patterns of Chops fit, I was hating it so much cause I was working on it for so long basically 80% of what I did,,,,, just said fuck it I'll work on it later and put it to the drafts,,,,,, now looking at it, it looks fine? 😭 a couple changes/tweaks I wanna try, but it looks good enough at least 🤔

[jeonqkooks]

let’s try “jungkook” for the wip game! <3 lol

bruh is this shade bc i never post any obs snippet with jungkook 😭 fine i’ll cave - this is from the jk centric chapter !!!!!!!

With his coat in hand and his bag slung over his shoulder, Jungkook stands, intending to go to the cash register. He stops promptly though, when he sees you pulling up a chair at a table by the window next to the entrance.

It’s been two months.

Fuck.

If he leaves now, you’ll most likely see him. 

Like the coward he is, Jungkook sits down again, at his now empty table save for his cup of coffee that no one has cleared away yet. Everything inside him aches as he watches you pull out your phone and type something quickly before you put it down on the table and gaze out the window. You don’t normally go to cafes alone unless it’s to work or study. There’s no sign of your laptop. He wonders what you’re doing here all by yourself.

You look tired, he notices. Even from this distance, he can see the prominent bags under your eyes. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks and he thinks he’s got a pretty good idea as to why that is.

He stays there in the corner – a coward and a creep – and pulls the hood of his hoodie over his head in case you decide to look in this direction. He manages a tight but polite smile when a waitress comes over to see if he wants anything else, to which he asks for another cup of coffee even though he’s anxious enough as it is after the first cup, and after seeing you again.

send me a word, if it’s in my wip document i’ll answer your ask with the sentence that it appears in ~ !

[btsqualityy]

You know how you always write in your haruxbri drabbles that she often sits on his lap when they have breakfast?☺️I can imagine that when they have their day off and haru still wakes up a bit early to work on some things on his laptop and bri on his lap tries so hard to take him back to bed like:🤣

Brielle: haruuu, can we go back to bed?🥺

Haru: my love I have to finish this and then we go back to bed

Brielle: okay😔

*2 minutes later*

Brielle: are you done now?😇

Haru: not yet, give me ten minutes okay? Just be patient for a second

Brielle: uhm.. fine🥺

*like 1 minute later he stops typing to look at his wife and bri lifts her head up with a little smile, her chubby cheeks on display.*

Haru: *closes his laptop and lifts her up bridal style and carries her upstairs*

Brielle: *giggles as haru presses kisses all over her face*

Haru: okay so since plans for the morning have changed, i'm going to take you to bed, make love to you, then take a little nap, then make love again and then another nap sooo.. we're not leaving our bedroom in at least 3 hours!

Brielle: but we are at my parents' house for lunch today remember?

Haru: that means we're gonna be lateeee!😌

Haru would not be able to resist Bri at all 😭even if he tries lol