#i was gonna wait to post this until i had more doodles to add but shit happened.. .and if it stays rotting in here i wont post it at all

[garlicboyart]

dont knock people i admire you.. your minds are so huge…

[fainthedcherry]

I can't wait to memorize this day Oh a picture could not contain The way it feels You say live in the present I’m already dreaming of how it begins And trying to savor the moment But I know the feeling will come to an end

SO

I

CRAAAAVE-

(BEAUTIFUL Outfit seen on the character here designed by Imaddictedtomememes on DeviantArt!!! ♥)

Been a while since I posted, since I'd gotten super busy!!!

I gotta go to sleep ASAP, as I got work tomorrow, but have a post, before I do go offline, of a drawing I did as stress-relief (I really needed some all week now)

Thaaat I finished freshly off the press, just a few mins ago LMFAO

I've lately had an identity crisis w/ my sona's design for the millionth time LOL. Sooo yeah..Might take a while, until I get a redesign done, that makes me feel comfy w/ my change in identity since 2023 dfdsklg, being bi-gender is hard sometimes, as you feel like the biggest devil, for just asking someone IRL who doesn't get it, to refer to you as he/him on a day where the dysphoria gets REAL bad yknow?

But I digress- this drawing is set to Paramore's Crave!!! Andddd also obv the lyrics are in said drawing LOL. I made 3 diff versions of this drawing's BG but I chose to stick w/ one bc I hate posting several versions of a same drawing tbh sflksdgölsd

Oh yeah, also, ever since MediBang updated to allow for timelapses...You bet I'm gonna use it SDSKDLFSLKDG

SOO YEAH!!!! ENJOY DRAWING WHILST I MIGHT POST AGAIN SOOOON BC OF ARTFIGHT N STUFF. And yes I know I add butterflies everywhere, to almost every drawing but SHUSH they're like a comfort-drawing thing or comfort animal ig sdgfkldsklg, it helps de-stress and I just ADORE THEM.

By the by, plan to maybe draw more often in Medibang, ever since I paid for a subscription to their service lol, totally worth it. I love the brushes and used almost purely premium brushes in this drawing dklgsdklg

^Anddd maybe Ill do more timelapses on my ko-fi and stuff!!! I feel like it'd be cool to record more progress on my like..ACTUAL artstyle art yknow, not this doodle stuff sdgklsdkg

[sillyandquest]

I've been doodling a lot of turtles lately. These are the results.

Just some Rise boys, specifically, the Mutant Mashup boys. I started off with Donnie in like a crouching pose for funsies but thought soon after, "huh, what if I just practice drawing his expressions from the show?" Now look at em.

Some musings below the cut if you wanna read.

Their markings aren't set in stone, I can't decide between diamonds for Raph or something closer to those concept ninpo markings on Twitter for him. Leo is already pretty decked out with markings so not much to add there. Aside from maybe two more stripes that grow up to the corners of his mouth as he ages, or maybe extra stripes on his legs, Leo's pretty much set. Mikey's in the same boat, though I like to add extra spots for flavor. I had a little more fun with Donnie's marks. I liked the thought of him having a mark over his nose, it kinda looks like a bandaid which I enjoy. Plus I gave him some marks on his face that kinda match Leo's y'know, disaster twins and all. I intended to give him a mark on his neck for his "unemotional bad boy image," but I kept forgetting to add it and just decided to scrap it.

Since I shared the Rise kiddos, I'll just add the 2012 boys. Consider it an early reference for their face markings.

These boys I didn't use references for so they are off model quite a bit. The doodles were only meant to show their markings anyway so they'll do for now.

Since these boys are technically quadruplets, I decided to give them matching/mirrored marking placements and all their markings relate to their elemental ninpo. DaVinci's got a cloud on his right cheek which is opposite to Sanzio's, who's got a fire mark on his left cheek. Niccolo's got a splotchy marking on his right eye, completely opposite to Simoni's lightning bolt mark on his left eye. I'm not totally sold on Simon's eye mark and am probably gonna tweak it a bit.

Also, I didn't realize it but Zio and Nico have the same smile. Same with Vin and Simon.

Final note: I do still want to make them look like TMNT 2012 to an extent, so more practice and more references to come.

That should be all, I've got a few doodles that I wanna explain in another post but they gotta wait until I'm more rested. This one was just an explanation.

Stay safe y'all!!

[ovenscookbook]

Alright, I couldn't resist. Read chapter 25 and lost my mind over it. You have my utmost respect, admiration, and love. I can't wait to stick around till the end of WTHI and read anything else you post!

Anyway, I actually had a question about your writing, if you'd be amenable to answering! For WTHI, you said you had 3 arcs in mind. Were those planned out since the beginning, or did you have overarching themes and made it up as you went? Everything feels so well done and all the story beats fit so nicely, besides you've added quite a bit of content that can easily get confusing as a writer. How do you keep track of all of that?

Also, how many papers have you used up for this fic. I am genuinely curious.

ahdjfichkd thank you for the ask!! im so honored and grateful for your support of WTHI and im so glad you’ve enjoyed this beast of a fic!

in the first brainstorm/outline of the fic, i did have the arcs in mind while trying to parse out how everything is gonna go. however, while i knew objectively, there is going to be two arcs, i didn’t know what i was gonna put in the second one until i fully written the first one.

the entirety of the second arc is already fully outlined, so i know which direction i wanna take! as for keeping track of all of my writing, it is a myriad of different creative mediums, loose planning, and a bit of improv.

this sorta ties in to your third question, of how much paper i used for this fic! i have this tiny notebook that ive used to outline this fic, and so far, i’ve used half (so ~50-65 pages?). i also have another tiny harry potter notebook that i got from universal studios, which i use to doodle out scenes i have a hard time writing. counting the pages back to back, that’s 44 pages. then, factoring in the loose pieces of paper i doodled on in the beginning of the fanfic, before i started using notebooks, i’m going to add at least five more pages. so in total, we’re looking somewhere around ~110 pages?

back on topic to your second question (i recognize i sound like bifur) these notebooks come in clutch with keeping track of all the different story elements. it only helps that — admittedly — i am a lazy writer. whenever i don’t know how to move forward with the story, i look back on previous chapters to see what i can use as a chekhov’s gun.

i hope this answers all your questions!! thank you so so much for the ask and have a wonderful day!! 🫶

[youareinbarbados]

"How do I build Faith ?"

You call Bob the Builder, OBVIOUSLY. What a DUMB *and* STUPID question. He can build *ANYTHING*. Have you not seen the show ?

***

Ok, so that was a joke. But hear me out.

***

First off, we have to be very careful not to conflate "FAITH" with "HOPE".

The distinguishing element between the two is "Time". How ? "Hope" implies a temporal separation. It implies that the fulfillment IS COMING.

"FAITH", on the other hand, "knows" that it's ALREADY HERE. There is a breathtaking difference between the two that it would behoove one to appreciate. *Hope* has a bunch of implications, like "fear", "uncertainty", and even implies a *lack* of faith. Bringing your ideals to objectivity is built on certainty. It's the dynamo that powers the whole mechanism. So we don't want to *hope*. We want to *know*. Knowing powers *Faith*.

>*And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.* (Mathew 17:20) (KJV)

So now we got dat mustard-seed faith.💥💥 💯🔥🔥💯💯 It's good. But we want something a little more grounded. We want that sturdy faith that lets us sleep well at night. So we have to build it. Why ?

Because *Faith without works, is dead.*

So now we have to get on our #sigma #boss-babe #grindset and wake up at 3:58 in the morning and do squats before even brushing teeth, and eat shit for 10 years every day , no friends, no weekends while blasting stoic-youtube.

That was also a joke. No. We don't have to do that.

"Works" and "Acts" are synonymous. We build faith by doing what Neville tells us to do. "Live in the end." Act, FROM. How do we do that ? By doing what we'd do if our wish were objectified this second.

My first post here was riddled with a bunch of examples of questions one would ask to stay in their Fulfilled state. ANYTHING you do that implies fulfillment is a "work". ANYTH💦ING. *Wipes spit* sorry

Want $200,000 ? Google an interest yielding account until you're sure what bank you're going to use. Want a Tesla ? Find electric charging stations or a nice tarp to cover it for when it rains. Want a nice apartment ? Start picking posters. Faith is built by acts that imply possession. There's this idea that if you're down to your last dime, you need to spend it, to show how strong your faith is. NO. RELAX. OK. DONT DO THAT. Neville still had to serve in the military for a while even after his SATS put him back home in NYC. Be smart, folks.

Anything you do from premises of fulfilment is a *work*. The worst thing we do is we do what were called to do, but then sit there and wait for it. This Almost always fails because of the "Amazon effect." The second you click order, you're at your window WAITING for the DHL asshole. (Those ppl work hard..be nice. Tip well. I'm jk ok) You order an ipad ? Don't wait for it. Start looking for a nice case. A screen protector. An apple pencil, because you know you want to mess around doodling with PROCREATE™.

Like my first post, these acts feed faith INDIRECTLY. You don't have to affirm of your ACTING. Some people can affirm and be fine. Someone need movement. Do works that imply fulfillment. This will further vitalize your sense of knowing, passively.

The last thing you want to do is wait and think. These two are the twin-destroyers of Faith. Think and Do from. It's the little things that add up.

This is third rant this week, and I'm gonna take a break and drink some water that I didn't drink today. That's not good when you're 35+. Please Hydrate. 🌊

[intergalacticaquarium]

more terrible no good headcanons for eddie disaster dreamboat munson

I said that if anybody made him too cool I'd have to add more and that's exactly what I'm gonna do babes because I had to scroll for way to long to find him making spagetti-os

(posting again bc it wasn't showing in the tag)

(first post)

-genuinely doesn't know what those stains are. Didn't even know it was stained bc he's had the same fitted sheet on it with one corner tugged off for 8 months and forgot about them since last time

-throws away Tupperware if the stuff in it is too gross

-he's pretty sure that green sour candy counts as a vegetable so he does eat at least 3 a day.

-just. Doesn't ever throw things away. Stupid shit like the backs of band aids and paper straw wrappers and napkins and hooooo boy this has turned into a callout post about myself

-sometimes horseflies fly into his hair and get stuck and he can hear them buzzing around and doesn't necessarily so anything about it right away until it stops

-no room for legs in the front seat of his car that space is reserved for old fast food bags

-buys new underwear instead of doing laundry

-hey why do I keep writing genuinely embarrassing things that I literally do irl. Is this really worth putting myself and the 4 huge bags of laundry I have in my tiny car and all my band aid wrappers on blast. Next I'm gonna write that every surface in eddies house is covered in stacks of hobbies and papers that feel like a goddamn archeological dig every time I clean

-psych he does that too

- ok things that I don't also do so that I don't start having a crisis that makes me a tidier person:

-feeds a family of raccoons that live in an abandoned hunting cabin in the woods

-one time he let one live in his closet for a bit and hoped Wayne wouldn't notice (this may explain some of the stains)

-this boy spills. Everything. He's a hand talker and it doesn't matter if he's holding something.

-the hand talking is also terrifying when in a car he is driving

-never drinks water ever and it stresses ppl out

-every single time he sees somebody he knows in public he will try and sneak up on them to scare them

-wears shoes inside bc he broke glass on the carpet months ago and he doesn't want to vacuum.

-the only place he has to actually sit and do anything I his room is his bed because everything else is covered in stuff

-everything is covered in stuff but every drawer he has is empty

-theres one category of things he owns that is organized absolutely meticulously and idk what it is but he's very proud of it and when he says he's "cleaning his room" it means organizing like band tees alphabetically or sorting minifig painting supplies and everything else stays trashed

-it's a perm and he did it himself in his bathroom 100%

-hair dye stains all over the bathroom from an ill advised look a while back. and maybe a few more times

-doesnt have a compulsive habit to bite his nails he does it bc he can never find the damn fingernail clippers

-notes and doodles. All over his arms

- yknow how when u were in school by the last day you'd have like one pencil and nothing else and u kept a hold of it bc you couldn't find any others?

- eddies been at that point since about half way thru his first senior year. He has one pencil and it is a stub (it is a d.a.r.e. pencil and he does find it funny) with no eraser and it's not sharp and it had a million bite marks on it

-has little stoner burn holes in all his clothes all his sheets his matress his sheets and the seats on his car bc he needs to be more careful and is gonna end up starting a fire someday

-wait that last one was a me thing

-maybe this is how I can embrace my flaws. make eddie do em too. it's cute when he's disgusting

-I no longer have improve myself at all

-puts random food in his pockets for later even though it will get linty. Gonna go ahead and say that I don't do this.

-isn't actually that good at guitar it turns out

-I gotta stop myself now because I know they'll just keep comin but add any you can think of or dm me because every time he gets worse he gets more of my love so like 2 give him a hug reblog 2 spray him with a hose

[magniloquent-raven]

that soulmate au where everything you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate, right. saw a post asking "what if make-up counts" and.

steve always thought his soulmate was a girl.

because when he was nine his nails stained themselves a messy purple in the middle of breakfast. it was exciting, the first time something like this had happened to him. he dropped his spoon into his oatmeal and banged on the tabletop til his nanny agreed to call his mother.

his mother was distracted over the phone, but she sounded happy enough. he went to school with an ear-to-ear grin on his face, staring down at his nails the whole drive there.

by second period the nail polish was gone, but the bubbling feeling in his chest wasn't.

a few months later, late one saturday evening, steve was in tommy's room debating whether the mark they saw on carol's arm really was the dog tommy had drawn on himself in math class, when suddenly tommy stops, stares. and laughs.

and steve is confused until he glances around and catches sight of himself in a mirror. there's a pink smear across his mouth, glossy and shining when he moves his head, but clearly applied with a shaky hand.

steve shoves tommy off his chair, suddenly feeling defensive. it's not funny. make up takes practice. steve's sure he'd be bad at it if he tried.

but thankfully it doesn't stay long. an hour, at most.

it happens again the following saturday. and every saturday for five months. gold eyeshadow and shimmering powder on his cheeks, glittery lip glosses, bright colours all applied inexpertly, and never for more than an hour or two.

then. it stops. one saturday, nothing happens. he stays up all night, unable to stop flicking the lights back on to glance at himself in the mirror just in case, but every time the twisting feeling of disappointment is just worsened.

that morning, exhausted and upset, he grabs a marker, scribbling the first thing that comes to mind across his arm.

i bet you looked pretty

there's no response. he's not sure if this kind of thing is allowed. talking to your soulmate like that. or if it's, like. cheating the system or something. he gets nervous after a few hours. maybe it's the lack of sleep messing with his head, but he scrubs it off in a fit of panic around lunch time.

and years go by. when they're old enough for girls to start wearing makeup regularly he hopes, wonders, glances at himself in the mirror so much, but it's always just his unmarked face staring back at him.

his soulmate doesn't draw on herself. she doesn't wear make up anymore. not even nail polish. steve starts doodling on his hands just to stop feeling so bare. empty. but he also starts carrying a packet of wet wipes in his bag so he can clean them off

and then. he's nearly eighteen, on a date with nancy and her subtle purple eyeshadow. and he's trying not to look too sourly at tommy and carol across the diner, sucking face and smudging the matching hearts drawn on their cheekbones. carol thinks it's cute, when she does her makeup sometimes she'll add hearts or stars by tracing tommy's freckles.

steve resents it. deep down, he does, and always has. he should've just been happy for them, but he's just. lonely.

but nancy gets it, he thinks. she's never gotten marks, she's not even sure she has a soulmate. sometimes steve's not sure he has one anymore either.

except.

except nancy's looking at him funny, and he asks her what the problem is, and--

"are you wearing eyeliner?"

he runs to the bathroom. and. and yes he is. it's smudged, almost artfully messy instead of just clumsy like it used to be. he pokes at his eye, running a finger under his eyelashes, tracing the inky lines.

he's overwhelmed. relieved.

frustrated.

what kind of girl only wears make-up at night? and how the hell is he gonna find her if she doesn't wear it during the day like everyone else. when people can actually see it.

shit, maybe she lives in. like. australia or something. in a different time zone.

steve goes home that night with a whole whirlwind of distracting thoughts. mixed emotions. he tries to cling to the knowledge that at least she's still out there, somewhere, but he can't help but feel even lonelier imagining how much distance might be between them.

six months later billy hargrove blows into town, loud and attention-seeking and annoyingly gorgeous. steve doesn't know what to make of him. not at first.

doesn't know what to do with the way billy's eyes follow him everywhere he goes. or the press of billy's chest against his back during practice. or pretty boy like you. or sparks in his fingertips every time he thinks about the colour blue.

until math class gets extra boring and steve starts to doodle aimlessly, swirling patterns up his wrist and something like waves crashing in the palm of his hand.

the back of his neck starts to itch, like he's being watched, and he looks up, meeting billy's horrified stare from the other side of the room. his arm is held close to his chest like he's injured it, and for one confusing moment steve wonders how the hell billy broke his arm in math class, and why he isn't going to the nurse, but then--

then he sees the corner of a curling line, peeking out from hiding. blue ink staining tanned skin.

steve drops his pen. it clatters to the floor, drawing a couple glares in the silence.

before he can do more than blink and mouth wordlessly, billy bolts. he doesn't even take his text book with him, leaves his notes scattered across his desk. the classroom door slams shut behind him.

steve wants to follow him. wants it so badly he's shaking with it, need and desire and everything in him trying to get him up and moving. but he can't. he's not stupid. he knows how it'll look, and that's the last thing either of them need.

so he waits. waits fifteen agonizing, impossibly long minutes.

and he's out of his seat the second the bell rings, gathering up billy's things before he half-runs out of the room.

it's easier to find billy than he thought it would be. he's in the parking lot, leaning against his car with a cigarette between his lips, staring down at the lines on his arm.

his hand darts into his pocket when he spots steve, and he squints up at the sky with feigned nonchalance.

a smile tugs at steve's lips.

"i brought your stuff," he says softly, quietly, like he's afraid if he's too loud he'll spook billy and scare him off. and. maybe he is.

billy glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "...shouldn't have bothered." he kicks the ground.

steve lays the books on the camaro's hood and shuffles a little closer to billy. the look he gets is wary. a warning. they're still at school. there are people around. there's a million reasons why he shouldn't reach out right now and kiss billy like he's wanted to do since this stupid infuriating asshole rolled into town like he owned the place. so.

he doesn't.

he stands close enough that their shoulders touch, pointedly not looking at him, staring sightlessly out at the parking lot instead.

"i was right, you know."

"hm?"

"about you being pretty."

billy makes a strangled noise. "that...was a long time ago."

"yeah? and?"

"it. it was dumb kid shit. i wasn't. i didn't. i don't do that anymore."

"uhh, few months ago--"

"i made a mistake," billy snaps, shoulders tense, hunching and pulling away from steve's.

steve turns, then, looks at him. sees the fear glinting in his eyes. and it hurts. a visceral pain, right through him. "billy..." his hand twitches at his side and he resists the urge to touch him. "i won't...i won't tell anyone. if you want it to be a secret it will be. i promise, okay? promise." he pauses, with relief, watches billy relax a fraction. "can...can it be our secret though?"

billy raises his eyebrows. "what."

"i wanna see. if. if that's okay. i wanna see you."

for a second steve thinks billy might hit him. shove him away and run again. but the moment stretches on and a flush starts to creep across billy's cheeks. he shifts his weight around. "i...maybe."

it feels like a win. somewhere to start.

and he feels nine years old again, giddy, smiling like a loon, and hopeful for the future.

(edit: pt2 here)

[erensnubs]

𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕

Oikawa x F! Reader

Chapter 3

Word count: 1.7k

Random posts:

"So… Sho how's school been?" You ask him as you're pinning up Natsu's hair into "fairy braids".

They were essentially little flowers braided into sections of her hair.

Sho looks occupied. You think its his volleyball team.

"School's okay I guess. But volleyball is SOOO COOL! I NEVER KNEW YOU AND DAICHI-SAN, AND ASAHI-SAN AND SUGAWARA-SENPAI WERE CLOSE?!"

You start laughing, "Sugawara senpai what?!?"

Shoyo looks at you quizzically, "What do you mean? That's what he said to call him."

You giggle. God that man is too funny, you think.

"Okay enough about my upcoming volleyball career," Shoyo says while you roll your eyes.

"How's your manager life?"

You shrug your shoulders as you delicately place a flower into Natsu's hair.

"Well, me and the captain are on good terms now. And I think I'm somewhat friends with people on the team," you say thoughtfully.

Yesterday, you and Oikawa studied over the weekend at the coffee shop. It was surprising for you to see the proud captain turn almost submissive when you studied with your project together and when you talked about volleyball. You knew in the back of his mind he still felt bad about the way he mistreated you, but now you were fine.

"Well guess what? Daichi-san and Asahi-san want you to go out with them sometime! They miss you," Shoyo adds.

When you first came to Karasuno, you quickly became friends with Fuki and Riki. You were your own separate group, the artsy bitches who liked editing and drawing random shit, making concept art and scribbling doodles on each other's papers.

Then one day you decided to sit next to the shy boy-man? Man-boy? The boy with the man bun? Whatever. You decided to sit next to him during lunch, because your regular seating area was taken.

Next to the man bun boy was, stoic boy and beauty mark boy.

You didn't know that these boys were going to be the next best friends of your lives.

There you formed a friendship with three of the sweetest men you've ever met in your life.

It started off with talking about how brown is actually a good ass color, then to how the school lunches could have better milk, to groaning about essays together.

To them supporting you with your family, and you with volleyball.

"You're so stupid Riki!! Its the answer B obviously!!" Sugawara says slamming his hand on the lunch table.

You and Daichi start giggling as Riki rolls her eyes.

"What if it's not B, huh Koushi? What if it's actually C?!?" Riki retorts.

You chuckle with the memories of lunch arguments, walking together, and trips to the city with each other.

Later, you helped Daichi find a manager for the volleyball team, Kiyoko Shimizu and later became a friend of yours.

You never wanted to admit it but all of them became a found family, a fantasy that you recreated in your head over and over when you spent time with them, just because of how fucked up yours was.

You loved Suga's laugh and the way he held you while you were boisterously laughing about something stupid, but you hated the way that you knew that it was something friends did. And not what family did.

You loved it when Riki, Fuki and Shimizu came over and did your face with makeup because it made you feel like you were being pampered by aunts and sisters you didn't have.

When Asahi and Daichi constantly checked on your wellbeing, even until now, when you moved schools for Christ's sake. It made your heart clench in pity, because you know this is the closest thing to parents checking up on you.

The sad thing is? Is while you're over here playing found family, the rest of them were just doing something that friends do.

That's why you distanced yourself from all 4 of them when you moved schools.

But Shoyo, he had to remind you about them.

"Yeah.. I.. Uh… I miss them too," you say slowly, braiding the rest of Natsu's hair.

Natsu leans back against you and hands you your phone.

"You don't wanna play minecraft anymore?" You ask.

She shakes your head, "No Kiyoko is calling you!"

She waves the phone in your hands and you feel the vibration of the call.

Oh god, did Kiyoko figure it out?

With shaky fingers you pull the phone from Natsu's grasp and answer the call.

"Hey Kiyoko-"

"I'm outside your house…"

You sputter your words out, "What?!?! Kiyoko?!"

"I'm waiting for you so we can finally go out together."

She pauses.

"Just you and me," her soft voice carried comfort to you.

"Okay… I'll go soon. I'm outside with Sho and Natsu," you say picking yourself up and turning off your phone.

You wave goodbye to them and gesture with your other hand to the phone.

Shoyo gives you a thumbs up and goes back to playing outside with Natsu smiling.

You run back inside and grab your shoes and jacket and throw them on. You flung the door open and see Kiyoko Shimizu in all her grace, beauty and splendor.

"Kiyoko-"

She grabbed your hand and pulled you close to her chest and squeezed you tight.

"Me and Daichi were scared, you know. We all were. Very worried about you," she starts off quietly.

"Tell us, [Name], when something's wrong. It hurts us when you don't."

You sink into Kiyoko's arms and relish the feeling of them.

"I will. I'm sorry for not doing that."

She pulls away and gives you a soft smile, her beauty mark perking up.

"It's fine [Name]... Now get in the car! We're gonna go eat out today!"

"I'll have meal 1 please," you tell the waiter.

"Meal 5 with a side of tofu as well," Kiyoko adds.

The waiter leaves and now it's just you two You were at the ramen shop near Seijoh.

Which just so happened to be the Ramen shop that was close to the convenience store near Seijoh.

The convenience shop that you and Oikawa went to.

You shake your head to get him out of it.

"Uh…You okay?" Kiyoko said questionably.

You wave her away, "Yeah I'm fine. Just remembering something weird."

She leans forward,"Hmm okay. But hey. Heard you became a manager at Seijoh.. You trying to one up me or something?"

She smirks and you scoff.

"Kiyoko please. I learned everything from you. I don't know how I would manage this great team without your prior knowledge I would have never survived," you say.

You sigh and look up, "They're one of the best in the whole prefecture and I'm in charge of them. The pressure is real."

Kiyoko pats your hand affectionately, "I bet. I mean Oikawa and this other dude from another school have been butting heads with each other ever since middle school. It's his last year so Oikawa is probably incredibly stressed."

You raise an eyebrow, "I mean Oikawa has been a little on the edge, but I didn't know it was from some dude since fucking middle school."

"Yeah. Ushi-Waka from Shiratorizawa. He's also from a powerhouse school. The best in the prefecture. They've gone to Nationals, multiple times. Ushi-Waka is in Japan's best under 18," Kiyoko says softly, like she was passing secret information to you.

You not, sipping your water as you let her continue.

"Oikawa has always been beaten by Shiratorizawa and has NEVER made it to nationals. Once! So this year is his last year, he gets 2 chances and then poof!" Kiyoko says.

Her hands are in a circle and they suddenly break.

"Bye bye volleyball career."

You were taken aback.

No, you were stunned.

You always knew Oikawa was determined but God, this puts it on a whole nother level of determination. You wonder how stressed the team was when Oikawa supervised. Or vice versa. You wonder how stressed Oikawa was when he supervised.

Is that why Iwaizumi encouraged you to book practices with college volleyball teams? Probably. The more practice the better, you remember him saying.

Oh and how could you forget the dark circles under his eyes.

You lean back and exhale, "Wow. I feel horrible for not knowing."

Kiyoko sighs, "You should know as a MANAGER, but didn't you have a rough start with him?"

You nod and recount the events that took place as the waiter sets down your food.

"But that was yesterday so I guess we just started our 'working relationship'", you finally say.

Kiyoko lets out a low whistle, "Looks like you got your work cut out for you sweetheart. Our team is in the works."

Her voice drops lower and she grins evilly,

"We'll beat you, [Name], I have hope for this team."

You grin back, "We'll see about that."

The two of you talk back and forth about other things for a while, laughing about the dumb shit Sugawara pulled and the new students.

You pause, "How's Hinata doing? I don't know if you remember him but he's a family friend."

Kiyoko smiles, "He's doing wonderful. Had a rocky start with another 1st year but they're friends now."

"Oh I remember him telling me that. Kageyama?"

"Yes. He was a middle school prodigy. Came from the same school as Oikawa and most of the Seijoh players actually," Kiyoko informs him.

"Huh," you say mentally noting that fact into your mind.

"Anyways, I'm glad we…you know. Got to talk. Hopefully we can go and hang out again with the others," you say as both of you clean up your table and walk out.

"Same. But Karasuno is gonna beat you at the practice game next week," Kiyoko says with a wink.

"Pfft Seijoh will wipe your asses over the gym floor," you say.

You're in your bed, covered in blankets and half asleep from your eventful day. When your eyes finally fluttered to sleep, your phone buzzed.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

You pick up your phone lazily and open up the messages.

Oikawa?

You groan. What is so goddamn urgent that he wants to meet with you so early in the morning?

You push the thoughts and the judgements out of your mind and go to bed early.

So much for a day out to relieve stress.

[Name] and Kiyoko both have a slight obsession with milk tea

IMPORTANT INFORMATION TO DISCLOSE

Kiyoko introduced [Name], to the more traditional Japanese food when she moved here rather than the trendy ones portrayed in the Media

Unbeknownst to [Name], Kiyoko keeps tabs on the Seijoh boys just in case something bad happens.

Prev/next

Taglist: @tanakasimpcorner @zukoslosthishonor ​@saladskittles​

A note from Chef Tina: ty for sticking with me everyone for this fic! I feel like my efforts on writing this are paid off! Pls like, reblog or comment! It would help a lot! 

[pjoseries]

hi! congrats on reaching 600 followers!! i'm a brand new follower and i'd love to request ✨ a drabble for percabeth and soulmate (born with a tattoo of soulmate's last words) thank you and congrats again!

✨ soulmates are born with a tattoo of their soulmate's last words (ao3 link)

(***post-canon, major character death, some violence)

══════════════════

The ocean is quiet today. The waves skirt passed her ankles like it’s afraid to overwhelm her. It won’t. Nothing about the water can—too many memories steeped in sunlight, gold dripping through her hands until all that’s left are remnants of the shine she once experienced. She should try to thank Poseidon for taming the sea for the day, but she thinks he needs it too. He’s always been fond of Percy and despite knowing him for years, the death of his son will still weigh heavily on him. 

Annabeth curls her knees up to her chest and she settles her head down, one hand drifting mindlessly through the sand. It takes her a minute to realize she was doodling Percy’s features, nothing really distinct. Just the sharp line of a jaw, the swoop of his hair, the curve of his smile. It hasn’t been long since the funeral, since she gripped Percy’s shroud in her hands and watched as everyone bowed their head and spoke a prayer when it caught flame, but she’s so scared of forgetting his face. She wipes away the sand on her bare calves, letting it stick to her even if the coarseness of it makes her itch under her skin. 

She can’t help but remember the last time his funeral happened, years ago when they were both just teens, and Percy barged in on his shroud burning. Gods, the anger left as quickly as it appeared, too busy drowning in relief at the sight of him. She remembers those weeks after she left Percy to die on that mountain, remembers how she thought with a bitter tinge of regret that he wasn’t her soulmate, but he was her best friend and she lost him and it took everything in her not to break down because it was her fault. 

Then he came back. But he’s not coming back this time. Not even if she begs the gods, travels down to Hades to bargain for his soul herself. She’s not Orpheus and he’s not Eurydice and they’re not a tragedy or some messed up story that can be solved with a few tricks and pretty words. 

Percy’s dead.  

He said the last words etched into the fabric of her skin. That’s more permanent than death. 

His words ache on the side of her ribs, burning a little. It’s nothing she hasn’t dealt with before, so she just shifts quietly to ease the pain. 

There’s a crash of a wave that’s louder in her ears and somebody sits next to her. She doesn’t turn her head from her view of the sea. Bits of sun peaks through the gray skies and it hits the water, bouncing the light back up to her own gaze. The ocean today is a few shades off from Percy’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Poseidon says, something caught in his throat. Annabeth ignores it and nods in acknowledgement. 

She coughs. “I’m sorry for yours too.”

They stay silent and the waves recede even more, not like when Percy does it. He restrains it so much when he’s emotional, it roars back at him, a perfect representation of his own thoughts. Today though, it’s not suppressed and bubbling and ready to strike out again. It’s just sad.  

“He’s probably waiting in Elysium.” The for you is implied, but she hears it all the same. 

“You knew?” she asks, spreading her legs out in front of her. She risks a glance at Poseidon and, fuck, it hurts so much to see Percy in him. She adds, almost casually if it’s not for her eyes stinging from the tears she’s holding back, “That we’re soulmates. Were soulmates.”

“It’s not a known fact, but we can sense soulmates. Not to the extent that Aphrodite does, but the stronger the bond, the more apparent it is.”

“How long have you known?”

“Oh, early on,” he says, giving her a gentle smile. “Perhaps when you were dancing back in Olympus. The first time, mind you.”

The laugh that leaves her chest is a little wobbly. She wipes her tears away swiftly. “I miss him. So much.”

“I do too.”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without him,” she says, her hands trembling. “He had so many years left, so many left—” with me. “A-and now I have to live without him? Stupid Seaweed Brain. He could’ve at least waited a few more damn years! Demigods don’t live long anyway, I’d probably get killed by some rogue monster.” 

In a fit of childish anger, she throws some sand at the sea. It doesn’t help. She huffs out an exasperated breath and lays down, throwing an arm over her eyes. The sand tickles at her scalp and she can feel a lump of slimy seaweed near her arm. 

Stupid seaweed. 

Her chest shakes with silent sobs and Poseidon taps at her shoulder, giving her time to grieve. And she has time. All the time, without Percy. 

Annabeth sends a prayer to Percy and thinks, I’ll see you later.

It must’ve been the wind, but she can almost hear a voice call back: Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Annabeth finds Percy in the crowd and jumps into his awaiting arms, ignoring any odd stares that’s sent her way. He lifts her up off her feet and twirls her around before kissing the tip of her nose. He grins widely, his dimple widening and she presses her lips to it. 

“Missed you,” she says into his cheek. 

“Missed you too, baby,” he says, then whispers, “How’s Olympus holding up?”

She rolls her eyes and threads her arm through Percy’s, gripping at his elbow as they start walking down to their apartment. “You’d think after fifteen years, they’d finally stop arguing about statute placements. Anyway, forget that. Who are we meeting today for dinner? Is it Demeter’s kids or Apollo’s?” 

“Neither, it’s Nike’s kids today.”

Percy makes it a tradition to bring some of the kids out one day of the week to Sally’s for a wellness check-up and ask if they need a place to crash while some transition out of camp back into the world. Annabeth thinks it’s sweet that Percy’s such a caring camp counselor. She knows if someone ever did that for her back when she was a year-round camper, she’d cry. As much as she loves it (and she does, enough to share some of Percy’s camp duties when she has some free time during summer), it’s rather isolating. 

While they’re walking, they hear the sound of metal and hissing and they take one look at each other before they run towards the alleyway. 

It’s one of the kids, bruised up and bleeding, but her sword’s still up despite her whole arm shaking. The kid’s eyes catch Percy’s and her body relaxes slightly, but enough for the empousa on the far right to begin striking. 

Percy quickly uncaps riptide and intercepts it. His movements are sure and steady, moving his body in front of the kid’s. Annabeth flicks her wrist and her knife comes down easily in her hand. She circles the next two empousi on the left and manages to kill one by surprise. Annabeth’s lucky she’s wearing a simple tee and jeans instead of her usual outfit whenever she goes up to Olympus. There’s way too many for one kid and her mind whirs with hundreds of possible answers as to why there’s a hoard near Sally’s apartment tonight. Despite her thoughts, she manages to gut another one while Percy’s fighting off two more and the kid another. 

In what seems like a split second, the kid screams and Percy turns around and blocks the attack that would’ve gone through the kid’s heart. But as he does so, his back turns against the other two and Annabeth rushes to fight them off because, dammit, she should’ve had his back. In a panic, she throws her knife and it lodges into one of their heads, leaving her knife clattering on the ground surrounded by dust. But she’s too late. Gods, she’s too late. 

Annabeth picks her knife back up, but the empousa tears a whole through Percy’s side, just as he kills the one targeting the kid. Annabeth yells, feral and wild, and slits the empousa’s throat, the last of their gurgling laugh dying as they turn to dust. 

Percy slumps to the floor and Annabeth rushes to him. She pats at her pockets for her emergency stash of ambrosia, but they’re flat. She turns towards the kid, frantic, and orders, “Run back to Sally’s and grab the ambrosia.”

The kid’s eyes were flickering towards Percy’s stomach. Frightened. Annabeth doesn’t have the guts to admit that she’s frightened too. “Go.”

The kid runs and Annabeth’s attention is back to Percy who’s shivering. They have no water, no ambrosia, and they’re in the middle of a damn alleyway and he’s bleeding out so fast. Shit. 

“Percy,” she says, trembling. “Can you move? We have to move, baby.”

“Can’t,” he grits out. He lets out a forced laugh. “Think my insides are gonna pop out.”

Annabeth’s vision is blurry and she can’t fucking see anything. She shudders in a breath and tries to gently hold Percy together. “Percy, please. Please, this can’t be how it ends. You’re supposed to be with me forever.”

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, baby. My—fuck, my forever isn’t that long. Glad I spent it with you.”

“We have to get out of here,” she mutters, leaning down and pressing her forehead to his. Her tears fall on his cheeks. She repeats, “We have to get out of here.”

There’s something unbearably sad in Percy’s gaze. The hand that’s not pressed to his stomach reaches up and tucks her hair back. It falls back down, too weak to hold itself up any longer. “Everything will be alright. It’s okay, Annabeth. Everything will be alright.”

She shakes her head and sobs.

Those are the words tattooed on her ribs. When she reaches up again to say more, Percy’s eyes were glazed and distant, staring up at the gloomy sky. 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

When they find her, she’s still crying, holding her dead soulmate to her chest.

[nagdabbit]

I’d love to see 42 from the ace prompt post! Your writing has me weak🥺💕

HI LOVELY! thank you for the prompt!

full disclosure, my head went on weird this whole week and this one didn’t go where i thought it was going to when i started writing and i got distracted by how funny i think sex euphemisms are and i remembered that billy and steve are both idiots and then this happened... i hope you enjoy it!

~~~~

42. “You know I’d go anywhere you were, right?” 

He woke up kinda warm, kinda crowded and boxed in. Woke kinda… not alone.

The bed had been empty when he'd gone to sleep. Noticeably empty. Like the lonely kind of empty. Like the cold kind of empty. Like, Steve wasn't even home when he went to bed kind of empty. Like the Steve hadn't even set foot in his room in six months kind of empty. 

But he woke incredibly warm and crowded and breathing in a head of soft, wild, chestnut hair that had burrowed up under his chin. Six months ago, it would have been cute and completely normal. 

His arm was pinned between them, folded up against his belly. Steve's hand had found its way there in the night, and curled over top. That was familiar, too; Steve had always liked to hold onto whatever part of Billy he could reach.

Billy sighed into the soft waves, and placed his other hand over top Steve's. He curled his fingers against Steve's calloused palm, gently dragged his thumb in slow circles across the top of his wrist until he began to shift awake.

"Hey."

A soft hum, the slight dig of Steve's forehead against his clavicle as he tensed around a wide yawn, and then went lax. "Mmph. Hey."

"What's wrong?"

"Makes you think somethin' s'wrong?" he grumbled, still sounding half asleep. 

"Didn't think it would be something happy that brought you back into my bed without warning. So what's wrong?"

A sigh, a grumble, a frustrated little growl. "Kelly dumped me."

Ah, Kelly. Fifth in six months. Pretty, kinda stuck up. Billy had hated her on principle, but she seemed to actually like Steve.

Billy squeezed Steve's hand, then bent to press a kiss into his wild mane. "I'm sorry."

Steve scoffed, head twitching as he must have rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. You didn't even like her."

"I didn't know her," Billy corrected, though both accusations were true. "You okay?"

"M'fine," Steve muttered, shrugging a little. "More disappointed, than anything. But I'm fine."

"Yeah, fine enough you had to come see little ol' me," Billy teased, but he tried to keep his tone light. "What's wrong?"

Another sigh, then Steve burrowed closer, worming his face down between the lumpy pillow and Billy's cheek. "I'm tired."

"What kind of tired?" 

"Tired of everything."

Billy just sighed. He linked his pinky with Steve's and squeezed tight for a moment, until the hand between his squeezed back. Shifted until their temples were pressed together, until he could feel the gentle beat of Steve's pulse against his own.

"What if," Steve began, "I just left. Just ran away into the wilderness and hid out there until people stopped being stupid."

Billy snorted at the petulant tone. "You'd be hiding a long time."

"Yeah, but they couldn't find me, so."

"Yeah, well, I'd find you."

"Yeah? Go full Walden with me?"

"Of course I would.”

“Yeah?”

"You know I'd go anywhere you were," Billy murmured, twisting to press a kiss to Steve's temple. "Right?"

A little snort of disbelief, because Steve never seemed to believe him. Not about anything important, anyway. “Yeah, sure.”

“Of course I would,” Billy murmured, nuzzling down against Steve’s cheek. “I love you, dumbass.”

He had only a few moments of warning before he felt Steve got still and tense. A runner at the starting block. Billy managed to tighten his hold just seconds before Steve was sitting up and trying to move.

"Woah, hey, wait a minute! You running from me, or you running from this conversation?" Billy asked, holding tight to his hand. Steve was tense, looking away and toward the door like he wanted to escape. "Get back here, talk to me.”

“Nope, I gotta go,” Steve hissed, trying to tug his hand free.

“Not until you tell me what the problem is,” Billy said, keeping his grip on Steve’ shand tight. “C’mon.”

“No.”

"Tell me."

"You can't just--you can't say things like that," Steve said, still tugging to get his hand loose. He could have, easily, if he really wanted to. 

"Why not?"

Steve turned to look at him and frowned, "We won't work."

"That's dumb," Billy chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You mean with you being ace?" 

Steve froze again, eyes wide. "What?"

"You. Asexual." Billy tugged their joined hands again, hard enough that Steve tumbled back into the bed. 

"How--"

"You told me. Three entire times, in fact. You were even sober for one of them," Billy laughed, wrangling him closer. He got an arm around Steve's shoulders and pulled him close. "You're an idiot," Billy murmured, and pressed another kiss to Steve's forehead. "Which is weird, because I know you’re not stupid."

"Fuck you."

"Well, obviously not."

He grumbled, unhappily. "I did not tell you."

"You did. Once at that last party in Hawkins, before we left," Billy said, remembering a shit wrecked Steve dispelling every myth about his conquests. "That first week of Freshman year when you said you didn't want me bringing anyone back to the dorm. And then, like, two weeks later when you got stoned and drunk and decided you were going to be alone forever."

"I never--"

"You did. I have a blackmail folder of sound bytes if you don't believe me." 

"Yeah, well, that just proves my point--"

"It proves you're dumb." 

"Hey."

"Steve, sweetie, remember how, like, nine months ago you started sleeping with me?" Billy asked, flicking his forehead. "And you kept doing so until about six months ago? When we had that really nice conversation about what you wanted in a relationship, and how it was pretty much exactly what we'd been doing?"

"Yeah, and--"

"And I agreed with you, and then kissed you? And nothing changed, and it was great, only there were kisses and shit? And then a week later you showed up with that art asshole and introduced him as your boyfriend?" Billy asked, a little sweet and a little mocking. His last six months had been hell. They hadn’t been any less cordial with each other, but he’d missed having Steve close enough to touch. Missed just talking to him. "And then I went and stayed with Heather for two weeks? And neither of us talked to you for, like, an entire month?"

A sigh. "Yes, I remember that."

"Do you also remember how I cried for two entire weeks, like a fucking baby, because I thought I'd just been dumped in an excruciatingly humiliating way that I never would have thought you were capable of?" Billy asked, sweetly. "Or did you not notice because you were too busy with Silas, or whatever his dumb name was."

"Silas is a nice name," Steve added, weakly. 

"It is, and he ruined it. He ruined the name for everyone." Billy softened it with another kiss to Steve's forehead. "I forgave you when I realized you genuinely didn't know. And I know we never, like, said the words. But I thought it had been obvious."

"It wasn't!" Steve insisted. 

"Steve, the bed-sharing aside, two bros don't platonically make out without either a conversation about it first, or someone around with a camera and good weed." Billy pinched Steve's ribs, just to get him to laugh. "You're dumb. How are you this dumb? Ace courting rituals are basically the same as allo courting rituals. Just minus the horizontal tango."

At that, Steve snorted. "Oh, god, don't call it that."

"Don't call it what?" Billy asked, innocently. "Stuffin' the muffin?"

"Oh, my god," Steve groaned.

"The ol' dipsy-doodle? Hittin’ the skins?" Billy followed it with another pinch to Steve's ribs to get him to laugh. And then another, "Squat thrusts in the cucumber patch?"

Steve was squirming in his arms, twisting and laughing as he tried to get away. "No one c-calls it--"

"Laying pipe?"

"Nope, no!"

"I'm just saying, you don't wanna play hide the cannoli," Billy laughed, squeezing the top of Steve's thigh to give him a horse bite that had him bucking and cackling. "You won't be riding The Bony Express."

"I hate you, I--ah! Haha, f-fucking--"

He dug his fingers into Steve's ribs again, and didn't relent until Steve had nearly laughed himself off the bed. "C'mere, dumbass," he chuckled, and hauled Steve back against his chest. “Can we date now? For real, this time?”

“But--”

“Steve, I know. I get it.”

“Won’t you miss sex and stuff?” Steve asked weakly, but he wasn’t trying to get away any more. He had those great big eyes turned toward Billy, full of hope.

“I like you more,” Billy said, because it was true. And he thought he’d told Steve that already, but he didn’t add that part out loud. Steve didn’t need anymore of that, he was more fun when he was laughing and happy. They could be serious later. “I like you a lot more… than a little bit of afternoon delight.”

Steve groaned. “Jesus christ.”

“I like you more than the forbidden polka.”

“You’re gross, oh my god!”

“More than the four-legged foxtrot.”

“Nope, I’m breaking up with you,” Steve grumbled, biting down a laugh. He squirmed like he was going to leave, but Billy just tightened his hold. “Lemme go! I’m leaving.”

“Not without me, you aren’t,” Billy grumbled and rolled over to pin Steve to the bed. He nuzzled down into the crook of his neck, breathing deep. Blew a raspberry for good measure, just because Steve could no longer get away. He got a loud, joyful sort of laugh in his ear, and a swat to the back of his head. It was nice. Familiar.

“Yeah? You gonna stop me?” Steve asked, settling into the hold.

“Well, yeah.” He soothed the spot with a little kiss, relished in the feeling of having Steve so close again. Fucking finally. “Told you. I just wanna be wherever you are.”

[greencharisard]

I wasn't planning on shading this one, but The Arcana characters without shading just look wrong. Anyway, here we have Shade and his two dumb himbo boyfriends, finding their old anatomy/work notebook, probably somewhere in the underground dungeons. They apparently also used it to write down and doodle during work breaks and trips.. to Vlastomil's estate most likely. Julian recalls that yes, Shade would indeed spend a lot of time with the courtiers when not working or studying magic/medicine; Lucio on the other hand is not exactly thrilled about this (I tried really hard to make is expression a mix of concerned, miffed and a bit angry, not 100% rage, cuz... he's not really angry, just shocked). For funsies, if it's hard to read the notes on the doodles: - Near the portrait of Valdemar: "Note: they saw me draw". - "Wiggler" near... well, the doodle of Wiggler. - "Vulgora flipped another table..." near the bottom left doodle of Vulgora. - "Wine bitch wasn't around today :)" Near the bad doole of Valerius. Valerius is the only one Shade wasn't close to, and almost never showed up at the tea parties, Shade and Vulgora probably pranked him when he was around too. Now, addressing the obvious; if the courtiers knew Shade before they died... why do they interact with them the way they do in the game? Well, there's a variety of reasons: - All 5 in general not recognizing the MC: this is already canon (especially Valdemar, it's canon that you worked with them alongside Julian so... they just don't aknowledge that). In my case: all 5 aren't quite sure on their first meeting that it was Shade, because they changed so much (and went under a different name may I add, Asra had them change it because just their old name would trigger an headache). - Valerius is kind of a bitch and the wine spilling happens like in the old prologue (full on spill on purpose), because even tho he isn't sure they're the same person, he's a petty bitch that holds a grudge. - Volta takes until after the end of the story to recognize Shade, and is the one they reconnect with the fastest, once they find the notebook they go talk with her and even free her from the Devil's chains; she's the only demon that goes back to being human, purely because she wants to and Shade is happy to help (yes I'm still salty that (for now) she only gets an happy ending in Nadia's route, so in my HC she always gets freed post-ending.) - Vulgora doesn't interact with the MC much so they really only figure it out later on; idk what happens to them, they fall in a frozen lake in my main route and it's unknown what happens afterwards, so for now they're stuck in the arcana realms. - Vlastomil is,,, an interesting case, he's the one that was the closest with them, so he was really put off when he realized (I'd say midway trough the story?) that Shade was his old friend... but with none of the memories. Especially in Lucio's route (my main one) Shade wouldn't be too thrilled about the notion, but since Lucio isn't bound to any of his old contracts anymore (so technically there's no reason for Vlastomil to attack him), they make an attemt at talking to him again and reconnect only after quite a bit of time has passed, to be safe (they also have a new familiar they found during an exploration they went on with Lucio; let's just say it's not Ginger but Lucio is still definetly not fond of him... while Vlasty might be). Due to all of this I have to retcon and say Shade definetly doesn't get Ginger for a long time (I also plan on redesigning her so, there's that). - Valdemar is the one that I probably need to explain the most lol. Obviously they have no moral compass, and what little consideration they had for Shade before was thrown out the window after they were brought back without memory. They actually meet once before Nadia introduces them; this is early and brief enough that Valdemar actually doesn't recognize them, but they're the one that catches up on it the fastest. They have of course no regard for them and absolutely would have no problem vivisecting them (again, Lucio's route problems lmao), Shade gets lucky that they're interrupted. Shade had absolutley zero plans on reconnecting with them, but after talking with Julian, and asking Vlastomil about how they used to hang out, they decide to at least try and talk to Valdemar, if anything because having them as friend is better than being enemies. It takes trial and error, Shade starts out by going to meet them in the old dungeon in secret and talk, Valdemar couldn't care less at first, to them it wasn't even the same person; if anything they could be a good test subject. Then Shade starts bringing dead animals for them to dissect, then follow along with the experiments and studies, then starts to help by using magic to make certain organs or limbs move ecc. Eventually they get Valdemar to talk a bit more and fill in Julian's blanks (He could only recall the interaction he'd seen; Shade would often stay behind to work with them overtime), they start being more comfortable around them, addressing them as "doctor" again and not getting goosebumps every time they got close or touched them. The others find out about this waaaay into the process, all of them range from weirded out, to worried, to extreme concern/fear (Lucio); Julian is the one that comes around an accepts it the fastest, he's seen it before after all, but for the others it takes a bit more time. In the end the group may or may not have reformed, with tea parties and reunions happening every time Shade comes back from an expedition with Lucio, he's invited as well of course, but almost never comes along at first (after the first few times he bonds with Vulgora over fighting/sparring and over who can throw chairs the furthest, they get along well enough). So yeah, more the arcana stuff, I was planning on drawing more courtiers stuff, but honestly I don't have the energy and there's still two books left of Lucio's route that may change stuff again so I'm gonna wait. I have to update my MC's outfit and fams tho.

[euphoriacrossing]

So, uh finally got my journal stuff.

I put it together yesterday, I am SO excited about it, it's better than I thought, BUT I have eight dividers (and can actually have more sections than that if needed because I have more dividers, plastic folders I can use to separate, and extra tabs I can use to label) and I don't know what sections I want to put so I can write it on the tabs.

I was thinking things like a tab for character profiles for the villagers, a tab for friend profiles, a tab for collecting and crafting, a tab for decorating, a tab for bells and budgets, things like that. I don't even know if I can come up with eight solid good sections, I might need to take some dividers out but we'll see.

I also have seen some pretty cool layouts. Like a play tracker someone made, I actually had a sheet come with my journal that had the months and days all listed in a chart so i am using that. But if you have any cool journaling layouts so far i would love to see them.

I am gonna try to print out my dodo airlines ticket and avatar from piccrew to paste in my journal since I can't draw. I have TONS of stickers and glitter glue and craft stuff so I might decorate my dividers with non-AC related decorations just so they are cute but I don't waste too many of my AC stickers though I guess I can always order more from etsy (lol, not really because I have already spent too much money and it's just the first of the money... but I mean, if it becomes an "emergency" I can and I can always purchase them at later days), and I actually still have some coming from etsy.

I ordered some gold letter stickers to spell out "New Horizons" on the front of my journal. I decided I just wanted to put that instead of my island name which I'll put inside on a "title page" of sorts. That way if I change my name for my island before the release I can just rip that page out and do a new one.

Oh I have both a clear pouch where I can put stencils and I have some stickers stored, and a fabric pouch where I have a pen, a stylus, and my amiibo cards. The fabric pouch I have clipped into the discs, but on the front so it doesn't hold the cover open. I know they have those pouches you can slip onto the planner with an elastic, but I like this little clip on one better. It's really small and only fits like one pen along with the other things which is usually less than I would carry BUT I guess this is already a bulky enough planner, I'm already unsure if it will fit in the AC sling bag with my switch, so best not make it any bulkier. Though my journal/planner did come with a canvas case, and it's not too much bulkier but it is a good place to store stickers and pens as long as I don't bulk it up too much, and that should help protect it if I shove it in a bag.

I guess most AC journaling will be done at home, but sometimes I go to my grandmother's or the hospital and I might want it with me to use depending on what info I end up writing down in there and how useful it becomes to me, I am not sure. I mean, I definitely have bags it will fit in along with my switch, but I ordered the AC sling bag because it was cute and I wanted to carry it, so if it doesn't fit I will possibly not be carrying it as much.

Oh also my journal stuff came with these nifty clip in to-do lists which I have a feeling i will be using to better make use of my AC time. I got some weekly planner sheets as well. I also have the monthly ones which were unnumbered so I went ahead and numbered those. =/ Tedious work. But now the monthly ones I will use to write down events, holidays, and birthdays, and I will leave those in there. The weekly planner sheets I just put in six weeks worth, and I will probably just do six weeks at a time and tear them out and throw them away when I'm done. That way I am not taking up too much room on my discs, but I can write more detailed plans and things I need to get done on those, but after I DO those things, I won't need the weekly pages at least I hope I can part with them. I am trying very hard not to make this a AC /diary/. I want it to be more like a reference book for my Island. The difference being one is nostalgic for me and the other one is actually useful to me OR anyone who might play on my island. Like if it's a proper reference someone else could pick up my switch and play and have access to say my Islanders birthdays, or the native fruit, or how much I was intending to spend on this, that, or the other. I don't know how many people intend their journals to be more like a diary, but I don't want to waste time writing things down that will only be nostalgic to me, instead I want the GAME to play as my sort of diary, for the memories I make to be playing, not writing. I want to write down things I need to remember and not just things I want to remember, I'd rather those just happen as in game moments. And if I want it to be a diary in the future, since it is discbound I can do that. But to start off that is not what I am going for. So that being said, hopefully I can part with the weekly pages and just throw those away since they won't really likely contain and pertinent info I will need in the long run. And any that do contain like birthdays or events, those will be added to the larger calendar so I won't need the weekly pages to remember when those things are.

Anyway, I am overall pretty excited about my journal being here and being able to work on it. I actually listened to some music yesterday while working on the calendar and it was kind of fun. Now I can just test different layouts, and things like that. My stencils come tomorrow I think. I ordered two sets actually so I could have more little doodles. And I can test what pens work the best and all that. It gives me something New Horizons related to do, which considering that's all my brain really wants anything to do with right now, it makes a huge difference for me.

If you have any ideas to help me with my journal, feel free to share them either in a reblog, or reply, or tag me in a post on here, whatever. I'd love to see your layouts and hear your ideas for different sections and stuff. Oh! And if you can think of anything else cool to print out for my journal, let me know! I know a lot of people are doing the dodo airline's tickets and I am gonna do that plus the piccrew avatar, but is there anything else cool I should print out? Like any reference guides or information that might be helpful when playing?

I know some people are already writing down friend codes and what not. But I am going to wait until I actually add people which will be closer to when we can actually play together.

But other than that, PLEASE share your ideas with me. =)

[onewaigu]

Ring On My Ears (pt. 1)

Genre : projectpartners!au

Theme : mild fluff

Pairing : Cya(Onewe) X Reader

Description : you were paired up with this quiet boy in your class for an art project. turned out, he had a hobby that included playing the bass guitar and maybe..producing some original songs.

Part 1 Part 2

Lee Giwook.

You stared at the namelist your teacher had posted in front of the class. Looking back and forth between the name and yours beside it, you subconsciously scratched your right ear.

Who in the world was Lee Giwook?

The art class you were in was an elective. Hence, not everyone in your grade took it, leaving the class with only a handful of students. That was why you were a little puzzled when you saw an unfamiliar name on the namelist. You weren't even sure whether there was anyone in your class who went by Giwook. You thought of asking your teacher about it after class.

Tearing your eyes away from the namelist, you headed back to your seat. Class was about to finish anyway. You decided you might take a quick nap to pass the time. It wasn't like your teacher had anything more to add to the lesson.

As you were about to pull out your chair, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You paused for a bit before turning your head to the person who tapped.

No name registered in your head when you saw the boy who stood in front of you. He had his hair covering his eyes so you couldn't properly see his face.

“Yeah?”, you asked cocking an eyebrow at him.

“You're Y/N, right?”, he adjusted the strap of his canvas bag before shrugging his shoulder.

“Mhm..”, you hummed in response. Who was this boy?

Then it clicked.

“Ah, are you Lee Giwook?”, your face lit up when realisation struck. He nodded. So he was your partner for the end-of-year art project.

“Were you always in this class? Cause I swear I've never seen you before”, you asked while dragging an empty seat for him to sit. You were genuinely curious.

“About that..I'm a transfer student but I've been in this class for two months now”, he explained sweeping some of his hair away from his face.

Finally, you could see his eyes. It'd be a lie if you said he wasn't attractive. He had petite pink lips, the cutest nose and eyes that twinkled. Not to mention, dude had the babiest of baby face. If you could, you wanted to pinch his cheeks hard.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you gave him a guilty smile, “Please don't kill me but I didn't know you existed until now”, you clasped your hands as if begging him for forgiveness.

He chuckled before lowering your hands on the table. “It's pretty normal I guess, I don't really..make myself known to others”, he bit his lips while tracing the doodles scribbled on your table with his painted nails.

“Well,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, “we're gonna be stuck together for the next half of the year”.

Hearing those words came out from your mouth, He lifted his head to look at you. Only problem was, he was looking at you with pouty lips. Just like that, you felt heat rushing under your cheeks. Oh boy.

You cleared your throat before holding your hand out to him, “Let's get to know each other”.

That turned out as a kept promise as the two of you slowly became friends.

When he said he 'didn't really make himself known to others', he wasn't lying. You wouldn't have noticed him in class before because he'd always be in his zone. Even when he was two seats in front of you, it was as if no one was sitting there. He would silently listen to whatever your teacher instructed and make his art in peace. Sometimes, you would stare in his direction whenever you were stressed out with a piece and instantly you'd be engulfed in a calming warmth.

That was who Giwook was. He was quiet. He was reserved. He was your friend.

You'd learned a lot about him during project meetings in school. And he, you. You even dared to say that he was your first ever true friend.

Sadly, your growing friendship wasn't enough to make your art project go away. Almost everyday, you had to stay after school with Giwook to finish a part of it.

The topic was on 'Evolution', so the both of you had decided to focus on the evolution of music. The plan was to create a live installation of how music had progressed over the years. There was going to be big paintings placed behind one another depicting the different eras in history. When people walked between the paintings, they would hear various genres of music being played through different speakers. The idea came from Giwook. You thought it was brilliant.

Few months in, the two of you were sitting under a random tree eating lunch and discussing about your art project. The different eras paintings were done. The only thing left to do was the music. Giwook suggested doing the planning at his house because he had a keyboard and a bass guitar.

“Wait a minute”, you placed a finger on his lips.

Your sudden gesture surprised not only you but him too as he had stopped whatever he was doing. He had his chopsticks in mid-air and his mouth was full of chicken. You giggled silently at the sight of him. Baby Giwook really needed a bib. Barbeque sauce was almost smeared all over his whole face.

“Did you just casually mention you having a keyboard and bass guitar at home?”, you asked him while gently wiping your finger and his mouth with a tissue.

“Mhm”, he hummed reaching over to take another drumstick from the box.

You slapped his hand away.

“Ow, you could bring your guitar over too..”, he whined as he gingerly rubbed the hand you had slapped.

You smiled at him as you took a bite from your sandwich. How did he even know you had a guitar at home?

[a/n]

giwook is babie.

also i feel like my fics are too long so imma just cut this into two parts ^ ^ i'll update soon

(gif credits to a-tiny-moon)

[yes-i-have-thoughts]

Bus Stop (BATIM Hell’s Studio AU)

Triggers: Swearing. A lot of swearing. Bendy has a foul mouth. Summary: Bendy’s never ridden a bus before. When a bus network gets set up in the town, he begs asks Henry to ride it to the shopping center with him. He didn’t count on it being so cold out. Notes: I’ve been getting on a Hell’s Studio AU kick and had this idea while waiting for the bus to come get me to school. By the time my school’s fuCKING WIFI kicked me off I had a full idea. Fingers crossed I get this finished by the end of the week. Also Bendy has a tail here because it’s against my religion to not give him a tail, it seems. I don’t know how to write Bendy’s implied accent so I’m sorry if he seems to slip in and out. I need more practice with this kind of thing Also fuck knows when I’ll post anything written again after this. One of the things I really want to get done I’ve had little inspiration for and it’s driving me up the wall (Hell’s Studio AU made by @doodledrawsthings)

Bendy hugged himself and shivered violently, teeth knocking together. He regretted not bugging someone for a winter jacket before he left. He didn’t see a need for one—it wasn’t that cold, was it? Turns out it was. Turns out a hoodie and baseball cap didn’t offer any protection against the freezing cold. If not for the gloves on his hands he was positive he’d be frozen solid by now. His tail was tightly wrapped around his midsection, both in an attempt to hide it as a hoodie design and to try to add a little extra warmth. It wasn’t really working in the latter department. “Warm, are we?” Henry asked with a chuckle. “Shuddup, R-Ross,” he snarled, glaring at the animator. “I d-don’ make fun of you human b-b-bastards when you get f-fuckin’ cold, don’t you s-start doin’ it to m-m-me.” “Sorry, boss.” Henry smiled in response to Bendy’s venomous glare and fixed the gloves on his hands. Bendy stared at them in jealously, causing the animator to stuff his hands into his pockets before the little trickster tried to dupe him into giving them up. Apparently that was the exact thing Bendy was about to do, causing the demon to growl angrily and slump back against the bench. “Bastard,” he muttered. “I like you too, Ben.” Henry winced when Bendy elbowed him in the gut, unable to hide his amused grin. Bendy couldn’t help smiling a bit himself. Silence fell between the two again. Bendy saw a kid staring at him and quickly checked to see if his tail had taken on a mind of its own and freed itself. It hadn’t. He tightened it around him a little, just in case. Kids do stare but not like they’ve seen a ghost. “I’m g-going to hurt D-Dr-Drew for giving m-m-me a t-tail,” he whispered, nudging Henry to get his attention. “When is th-the b-b-bus coming?” “15 more minutes.” “FIFTEEN—” Bendy almost flew over the animator to see the bus times for himself. His bus wasn’t due until 11:59 and he and Henry had left the studio at 11:43, which meant they’d been there for only one minute. He slumped back down onto the bench and buried his head into his hands with a groan. Henry put his hand on the demon’s shoulder, calming his violent shivering a little. “Come here,” he said quietly, tugging the demon closer to him. “You’re gonna catch cold…Or whatever you toons can catch in this weather.” “I’m not a child,” Bendy snarled as he moved away. “You don’t have to be a child to get warm.” Henry motioned to two people on the other bench, one of them leaning their head on their friend’s shoulder as said friend read a book. “I’ll do some early drawing if it’ll make you feel better.” Bendy shrugged vaguely, eyeing Henry suspiciously. The animator pulled out his sketchbook and a pencil, flipping to a page with a rough sketch of what looked like a horse. Bendy finally gave in and hesitantly leaned against Henry’s side to watch. To his relief, Henry kept doodling, instead of putting his arm around him like he was afraid he would.

Bendy wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Henry was shaking his shoulder. “Ben,” the animator whispered. “The bus is here.” Bendy grumbled and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He was still friggn’ cold. He swatted away Henry’s hand when he tried to help him off the bench and stormed over to the vehicle, Henry chuckling as he followed the fuming demon. This is the last time he’s taking a bus.

[starletwriting]

Killervibe Fic Week Day Six: Soulmates

Word count: 1233

Notes: Based off of the soulmate au where anything you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate’s body as well. This is a bit of a shorter fic compared to some of the other ones I’ve posted for fic week, but I hope you enjoy!

Tags: @thatkillervibe @shakesqueer-writes @narniasfinestavengingsociopath

~~~

The first thing Cisco learned about his soulmate was that she likes to doodle. He figured she does it when she’s bored. At various times of day, Cisco would look down and see a flower or a star doodled on his arm in black ink. It was always simple designs, nothing too complicated. She would spend minutes doodling different types of flowers all down her arm. Cisco would stare down at his arm and watch it unfold. The inked line seemed to have a mind of its own as it manifested itself on Cisco’s skin. 

The second thing Cisco learned about his soulmate was that she was forgetful. She wrote a lot of reminders on the palms of her hands. They were sometimes to-do lists, consisting of things like “take out the trash” or “do math homework” or “ask Mom about Friday”. Sometimes, they were reminders about tests or big upcoming projects. Cisco would look down at his hand and see “English essay due Monday” written on it. Other times, they were grocery lists. Cisco always knew when his soulmate was out of milk because he’d find it written on his hand. Whenever his soulmate completed a task, she’d scratch it off in black ink. Cisco would look down at his hand and see the words “math homework” scratched off, and he’d know that she finished whatever homework she had to do. 

The third thing Cisco learned about his soulmate was that she loved science. He would find names of famous scientists written on his wrists, or sometimes she would doodle the classic atom symbol. Once, she wrote down a reminder for an upcoming science fair. Every once in a while, Cisco would find famous equations written on his palm, used in both science and math. Cisco recognized a lot of them, being interested in mechanics himself. Whoever his soulmate was, he already admired her for her mind. 

Cisco didn’t write on his skin much. He didn’t write on his skin at all, as a matter of fact. He never really felt a need to. He wasn’t terribly forgetful, and when he needed to write stuff down, he did so in a notebook or agenda. He didn’t doodle much, and if he did, it wasn’t on his skin. After all, the doodles from his soulmate were enough. He was always interested to see what she would draw next, but never once was he interested in contributing to the art. 

That is, until one day. His soulmate was writing study notes on her palm, mostly equations from what Cisco assumed to be her science homework. Cisco noticed the ink appearing on his hand as she wrote it out. He watched the black ink form numbers and letters and symbols, and he recognized a lot of the equations she wrote down. So, when she accidentally wrote one of the equations down wrong, he knew.

Cisco picked up a pen and began to write. 

That should be a 2, not a 6. 

It was a simple sentence, scrawled onto his wrist in Cisco’s sloppy handwriting. After a moment, he decided to add a smiley face to the end to indicate he wasn’t being hostile. 

For a few seconds, it was radio silence. Nothing was appearing on his wrist. His soulmate had gone quiet.

Then, he got a response. 

Thanks.

One word. 

He replied. 

You’re welcome. 

A beat.

So you’re my soulmate?

No, I’m just some random person with the ability to contact you via ink on skin.

What?

Sorry. That was sarcasm. I guess you can’t really tell tone when it’s written. 

Oh.

He and his soulmate talked in that way until their arms looked like a 7th grade paper note passed between two friends in class. Cisco told her a bit about himself, like that he loves technology and engineering, he has a brother, he likes old movies. He found out a few things about her, like that she’s taking Biology, she’s an only child, she’s participated in local science fairs for five years in a row. 

But most importantly, he found out her name.

Caitlin Snow.

And for the first time, Cisco knew his soulmate’s name. 

Nice to meet you, Caitilin. I’m Cisco Ramon.

Nice to meet you, Cisco.

After that day, it became a regular thing. They would communicate via scribbles on their hand, little notes to each other at the beginning of the day, and random doodles that they’d think the other one would like. They got to know each other pretty well. Hardly a day went by when one of them didn’t write something to the other. They considered each other good friends, and would often smile when they saw the ink appear on their wrist. 

This continued for years. When Caitlin and Cisco graduated high school and moved on to college, they still kept in touch. Cisco’s friends would see the writing on his arms and friendly-tease him about it, and Cisco would just blush and change the subject. Over the years, Cisco found that he was taking after Caitlin’s handwriting after seeing it so often. They were small changes, such as writing his “y”s and “a”s the same way Caitlin did. Caitlin, on the other hand, started writing her “5”s the same way Cisco did. 

When Cisco got the job at Star Labs, he was both ecstatic and nervous. He spent the morning of his first day telling himself that it was gonna be fine and reminding himself to breathe. That day, he walked into Star Labs for the first time with an optimistic outlook. He had already met Dr. Wells, and he couldn’t wait to start working for him. Star Labs was full of geniuses through and through, and that day, he became one of them. 

Cisco’s first few hours didn’t go so great. Hartley Rathaway was in charge of showing him around, and so, for hours, Cisco was targeted to Hartley’s endless criticism and petty remarks. Not so great for a first day. He simply rolled his eyes and reminded himself that there’s more to this job than rude pricks with underlying jealousy. 

But, through it all, Cisco persisted. And, as it turns out, it was worth it. 

“Hartley, it looks like you have met your match.” 

A woman walked up to Hartley and Cisco, slow-clapping at Hartley’s expense. She met Cisco with a warm smile and outstretched a hand. 

“I’m Caitlin Snow.” She said. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Wait,” Cisco blinked twice. “You’re Caitlin Snow?” 

Caitlin tilted her head. “Yeah, why?” 

“I’m Cisco Ramon.” Cisco smiled, and shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“No way.” Caitlin couldn’t stop herself from grinning. 

Cisco nodded, the only confirmation she needed.

Caitlin and Cisco hugged, much to Hartley’s confusion. Hartley raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press. Instead, he just walked off. Cailtin and Cisco laughed, partly at Hartley’s reaction, partly from the adrenaline of meeting their soulmate and long-time pen pal.

That evening, when Cisco got home, he picked up a pen and pressed it to his skin.

Meeting you was everything I had hoped and more. 

He didn’t have to wait long for a response. 

And you. I’m looking forwards to working with you.

He smiled. 

So am I.

[lovelysheree]

Heyyyyy, just saw your stranger things au, I loved it 💗 💗 💗 can you do a scene where little el meets big daddo Hopper?

Thanks Anon!  I’m glad you like it!  I’m hoping to post more doodles of Captain Jane or Captain Hopper... maybe Mike as well.  Here’s a scene for ya ;)

She could hear the waves crash against the shore in thecold, midnight air.  She didn’t know howlong she had been running, but her feet were sore, and her eyes wereheavy.  She barely had the will to situp.  But she needed to stayvigilant.  Any moment now and one ofPapa’s men would find her and take her back to that place.  The factory.  

She was lucky there was an accident in one of the millswhich allowed her to escape in all the chaos. However, now she was cold and tired and hungry… perhaps she shouldn’thave left.  At least then she’d be alittle bit fuller.  

She heard voices approaching and she slid further inside thecrate where she had found a temporary refuge. It sat on its side on the floor of the dock and she had nestled into acorner.

“Have ya seen a kid runnin’ ‘round?” she heard a manask.  She watched the wooden panels ofthe port’s dock illuminate under the man’s lantern as a large looming shadowgrew closer.

“A kid?  This timea’night?  ‘Fraid not,” a gruff voicereplied.  The shadow grew closer andcloser as her heartbeat grew faster and faster. She held her breath and hid further into the crate.  Two large boots stepped right in front ofher, pausing for a brief moment, but a moment that seemed to last forever.

“She’s missin’ and needs ta come home,” the man with thelantern replied.

The man in the boots turned back around towards the light.  “As I said. No kid here,” he said.

“Well, keep ya eyes peeled, mista,” the man said, beforeturning around and leaving.  The yellowlight faded from the wooden beams as they creaked and moaned under theretreating footsteps.

She was tempted to breathe a sigh of relief, but there wasstill that man in the boots.  He was stillnear.  Again, his boots grew closer tothe crate and stopped just a few inches shy. Her heart hammered mercilessly in her chest.  She watched as the man in the boots bentdownwards, his gloved hands falling onto the floor as his head leaned down to rightwhere she was huddling.

He had a bushy brown beard and a bald head with a piece ofcloth tied around his forehead.  He worea baggy white buttoned shirt that did no justice in hiding his round stomach.  His eyes were tightly silted as he peeredinto the crate, coming into direct contact with herself.

“Well wha’da we have here, hm?” his gruff voice shattersthrough cool night air.  “Seems you’re’alittle lost,” he said.  

She didn’t say anything in fear of being seen, even thoughshe had already been spotted.  

“Not much of’a talker, huh? That’s okay, I’m not too great with words myself,” he said, standing upand picking up the crate.  She stumbledbackwards, her hands and feet planting themselves against the walls of thecrate to keep balance.

“By Jove, you’re light weight, kid.  How’s some food sound?” he asked her, but shedidn’t respond.  She watched through theslits of the crate as her surroundings steadily moved past her.  The man continued to speak, but she didn’tcare to listen.  She was too tired, toonervous, too everything.  That last thing she remembered that nightwas the sound of the ocean lulling her to sleep.

When she woke up, she felt warm.  Oddly warm. She couldn’t recall ever wakingup warm, usually it was the cool morning air that crept through the crackedwindows that tore her from her sleep. But right now, her feet felt warm and cozily covered, her head didn’tache, her shoulder and arm weren’t sore from being laid on all night.  She was so comfortable.  

That is, until she heard voices muffled behind a wall.  She sat up straight, eyes wide and feet readyto flee.  Where was she?  She was in a room,surrounded by wooden paneling and lit by a few dull candles.  It was relatively empty aside from a singletable and chair in the corner and the bed she laid on.  She quietly kicked her feet out from underthe covers and placed them on the floor, flinching as it creaked under thepressure.  

“Dammit, Bennie.  Iknow it’s against the code, but we don’t know who the kid belongs to!  What if whoever lost her wants her back?  What if they send someone after us?  We don’t have time to deal with that rightnow,” one voice spoke.

“Captain, the kid was wearin’ rags.  An’er hair’s been cut off.  I doubt whoever had’er has the resources tocome after us,” another replied.  Sherecognized this one.  It was the man whopicked her up in the crate.  He must’vetaken her here.

There was a quiet pause, then a hefty sigh.  “I’ve got a funny feelin’ about this.  Let’s see if she’s awake for now and maybeshe’ll be willing to talk.  We’ll finishthis conversation later, Bennie.”  Theywere coming in and she needed to hide fast.

“Funny feelins can be good ones, Captain.”  They were getting closer.

“Not in my experience—” she heard a voice say as the knobbegan to turn.  In a quick attempt to hide,she bolted to behind the door, shoving herself against the wall as it swungopen.

“—What the hell?  Thebed’s empty,” the voice said.  Captain, she thought.  That’s what the other man, Bennie, calledhim.

“Cripes,” Bennie whispered under her breath.

Captain and Bennie both walked further into the room.  She peeked her head out from behind the doorand got a good look at them.  Captain worea large angular hat, one she hadn’t seen before, and a long leather coat thathung just below his knees.  Bennie stillwore the same loose, white button-up, baggy pants and boots with the piece ofcloth tied around his head.  

This was her chance to escape, they weren’t looking.  All she had to do was tip-toe out the doorand make a run for it.  Just one foot infront of the other and—

Creeak.  She froze.  

They both turned around and her heart stopped.  She’d been caught.  This was it, the end of the road.

“As I live n’ breath,” Captain breathed out an airylaugh.  “You sure are sneaky.”

She stayed completely still, eyes wide cornered animal.  

“You got a name, kid?” Captain asked, walking closer toher.  He was probably the largest man shehad ever seen.  Sturdy, solid, andtall.  Although her intimidation of theman didn’t encourage her to give him an answer.

Bennie gave her a bearded smile.  “Come on, we’re just tryin’ to help you,” hesaid.

She took a step backwards and found herself leaning againstthe wall.  As she looked between the two men,she felt her stomach rumble, begging to be filled.

Both men exchanged a look of humor.  “How about we give you something to eat,” Bennieoffered, making his way towards the door.

“Wait,” Captain stopped him. “Not until she tells us who she is,” he said.

“Captain, she’s just a kid—”

“We don’t know who sheis,” he said, bringing his hand up to quiet Bennie and giving him a sharp look.  “So how ‘bout you enlighten us, hm?” he said,turning back to face her with a tight smile plastered onto his face.

She stayed quiet, continuing to look between them.

“A name,” he repeatedsharply.  “Or no food.”

Food sounded really good.  Her stomach still twisted and turned inhunger, but she couldn’t trust these men. She needed to keep running.  Thatwas the only way to stay safe now.  Butfood… When she didn’t answer him, he scoffed and began walking towards thedoor.  “Come on, Bennie.  We’ll see how she feels in a few days withoutanything to eat.  Maybe then she’ll bemore willing to—"

“Don’t have one,” she heard herself say.  Her eyes widened in shock, she hadn’t plannedon speaking.  It was as if her lungsforced her to answer against her will.

Captain stopped at the door and turned to her with aquestioning gaze.  “No name, huh?” heasked, looking her up and down.

“She’s a real Jane Doe, Captain,” Bennie said.

Captain looked to Bennie and then back to her.  “So it seems,” he nodded.  He walked up to her and bent down on hisknees, balancing on the back of his boots. His eyes seemed to soften as he tried his best to smile at her.  “I’m Captain Hopper,” he said.  “That there is Bennie.  He’s my Quartermaster and I’m the leader ofthis vessel,” he said, gesturing to the room around them.  

When the look of confusion crossed her face, heclarified.  “There’s more to this placethan this little room we’ve put you in,” he said.  He turned back to Bennie, “How ‘bout you getus some food.”

Bennie nodded to Captain, Captain Hopper, she corrected herself.  He smiled at her before leaving and closing hedoor behind him.  She flinched at thesudden noise.

“Yeesh, you’re real skittish.  Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you,” CaptainHopper said.  A beat later, he continued,“So… I heard you ran away from home.”

She nodded slowly.

“Then I’m sure you’ll fit in great here,” he said, standingup and grunting from the effort.  Lookingdown at her, he gave her a wry grin, “Ever been on the ocean before?”

And that’s how everything began.  She found a name, an identity, a family, and ahome that day.  Captain Hopper became thefather she never had as he taught her all he knew of sailing the sea and thelife of pirates.  Her life turned into anever-ending adventure after that.

“Captain Jane,” she hears a voice call her, pulling her fromher thoughts.  

“Something wrong, Max?” she looks up to see hersecond-in-command, a fiery red-head with a personality to match, entering herquarters.

“We’ve got our target,” Max says, grinning as she crossesher arms over her chest.  “In recordtime, I might add.”

Jane nods, “Tell Kali to ready the cannons,” she says, standingup.  “We’ve got thieves to catch.”