#i'm still weirdly proud of this piece i really like it

[barrenclan]

When you said Asphodel was Laura-coded, you sure weren't joking! Asphodelshine! Asphodelshine! Asphodelshine! I kind of want an AU/what-if where we get some Fire Walk With Me shenanigans... Also thank you for giving her a warrior's name, I genuinely teared up while reading it!

I genuinely believe that Asphodelshine was inspired massively by Laura Palmer, albeit in a subconscious fashion. Although the thought of her being in Fire Walk With Me's plot makes me so sad. Get my babygirl out of there...

[hummingbird24220]

Hello! Can I please request reader pretending to be a man (maybe because women were seen as unlucky on pirate ships or maybe she’s on the run from someone) and the straw hats finding out about it?

With a focus on Sanji and Zoro and maybe chopper?

After the straw hats find out about reader Zoro reminded of kuina and reassures Reader that they aren’t cowardly for hiding (or something similar)

And even after the straw hats find out Reader still pretends to be a man and now Sanji has to figure out how to act around them because they are still technically a woman and women deserve to be treated well but Sanji also doesn’t want to blow their cover while in public so he has to tone it down a lot but when it’s just the crew he still hesitates to go all out

And maybe chopper scolds reader about improper binding or something.

(Robin would also relate to reader a lot but I don’t know what to do with that other then them just having a chat? Doesn’t really add much just a nice idea)

Love your writing! Stay hydrated! <3

Hellooo, thank you for your request! Ive actually had this idea in the works for a while (i watched pirates of the Caribbean lately) but didnt know where to go with it, so thank you for the ideas! Hope you like it <3

(setting is on the thousand sunny but i uhhhh forgot about franky and brook so im sorry. theyre on a... secret mission)

Pirate's Luck

One Piece x Disguised!Fem!Reader

You tied your hair back for the hundredth time that morning, muttering under your breath as the ship rocked slightly. Another day, another reminder that this whole "pretending to be a guy" thing was harder than you thought.

You flexed your arm absently. Not because you were admiring yourself, but because Chopper had taken one look at you yesterday and made the most distressed little reindeer noise you'd ever heard. "You're too skinny! You don't have a manly body at all!" he'd gasped, running off to brew some kind of horrifying protein drink. (You still hadn't found a place to dump it without hurting his feelings.)

The Straw Hats didn't really treat gender like other pirate crews did — Nami and Robin were living proof of that. But they were...Nami and Robin. Strong. Clever. Dangerous. You were just...you. No terrifying storm-powers, no deathly calm aura. Just a decent fighter, good enough to pull your weight. You figured you had to keep up the "guy" act anyway. Just in case.

Sometimes you forgot. You'd sit weirdly, or accidentally brush your hair over one shoulder, or laugh a little too high. No one said anything, but you felt eyes on you sometimes. Particularly two pairs: A sharp, lazy green one, and a wide-eyed blue one. Zoro and Sanji. You were pretty sure you were giving them both some kind of identity crisis.

It was worse today.

You were patching a sail with your sleeves rolled up when Sanji walked by, whistling a lazy tune. He glanced at you, did a double-take, and then immediately tripped over his own foot. "OI!" he barked at himself, pretending it was because of a crack in the deck that didn't exist. You just blinked at him. Dude pirates have long hair too, you thought blandly. Chill out.

Meanwhile, Zoro — leaning against the mast with his arms crossed — stared suspiciously at you over the hilt of one of his swords. When your hair slipped loose from its tie and framed your face, his eyebrow twitched. You quickly scraped it back, heart thudding a little too loud.

"You should cut that," Zoro muttered. You shrugged. "I like it long." (Voice low. Even. Don't pitch it too high.) He grunted, but didn't argue further. He also didn't look away.

Later, in the kitchen, Chopper cornered you with a grim look. "You have to eat more," he insisted, shoving a plate of meat into your hands. "I'm fine, Doc," you protested, but your stomach betrayed you with a loud growl. Chopper beamed like a proud parent. Sanji hovered near the stove, sneaking glances at you as you ate, red creeping up his neck.

Meanwhile, Zoro — sitting at the table — watched the whole thing with a dark, unreadable look. You met his gaze accidentally, and for a second, something almost clicked in his brain. You panicked and coughed dramatically into your elbow. "Man, this meat's awesome!" you said, voice cracking just slightly too high. Sanji nearly dropped his knife. Chopper looked worried again.

You sighed internally. At this rate, you were going to get "discovered" because you were too awkward to be a convincing dude.

-

You weren’t stupid. You knew how to disguise yourself. Loose clothes. Tight binding. A low voice, careful mannerisms.

It wasn’t like you hadn't noticed the way pirate crews looked at women — like they were bad omens, soft targets, or worse. You weren't planning to deal with that kind of mess. You had a good thing going here. You just had to keep the act up.

You were good at it. Good enough that no one had proof to call you out. Good enough that even when you joked around with Luffy or argued with Usopp, no one really questioned you.

But the problem was...this was the Straw Hats. They noticed everything.

-

It started when you were helping tie down some cargo after a rough wave. You had to wrench a heavy rope down, muscles straining. The tunic you wore tugged upward slightly — just slightly — revealing the subtle curve of your waist. The sharp dip where there should've been a straighter line. You caught Sanji's eyes flicker down and widen almost imperceptibly.

You dropped the rope immediately. "Sun must be gettin' to me," you said, pretending to wipe sweat off your forehead. Voice: low. Casual. Sanji looked away so fast you thought he might have whiplash. He lit a cigarette with shaking hands and muttered something about needing "fresh air."

Meanwhile, Zoro tilted his head at you, something calculating in his gaze. You felt the burn of it even as you busied yourself pretending not to notice.

Later that evening, Chopper cornered you again. "You should really let me do a full check-up!" he chirped, eyes big and worried. "You're just not building muscle mass like you should!" You laughed awkwardly. "Eh, I'm just a late bloomer," you said, ruffling his hat to distract him. "Nothing to worry about, Doc." Chopper puffed up in frustration. "But — but you don’t even eat enough! And you don't have — your — your chest isn’t — your shoulders aren’t—" He flailed helplessly, clearly trying to be delicate.

You patted him on the head. "I'm good, buddy. Really." You could feel Sanji staring at you from the galley entrance. You didn't dare turn around. Especially not when you felt Zoro's eye cutting into your back too.

That night, you sat by the rail alone, feeling the ship rock beneath you. You rested your chin on your knees, breathing in the salt air. Your tunic was loose, your hair tied back haphazardly. You felt...tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of being just "one of the guys" when you were already more than enough as yourself. But you didn't know if they'd still want you, if they knew the truth.

Behind you, soft footsteps approached. You tensed instinctively.

Zoro. You knew it before he even said anything. You could always tell when it was him — heavy, grounded footsteps, like he was too stubborn to be knocked off balance.

"You," he grunted. You didn’t turn around. "Hm?"

He was silent for a long moment. You heard the clink of his swords when he shifted his weight. "You’re hiding something." Not a question. A statement.

Your heart gave a panicked lurch. But you just smiled a little, keeping your face turned toward the sea. "Aren't we all?"

-

It was fine. You were fine. Totally fine.

Even if Sanji was burning holes into your back every time you bent over slightly to pick up a crate. Even if Zoro kept clenching his jaw every time you stretched and your loose clothes shifted just enough to hint at curves that definitely didn't belong to a scrawny guy. Even if Chopper was still begging for a check-up like you were terminally ill.

Fine. Everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

You were lounging on deck after lunch, oversized shirt billowing in the breeze, when Nami walked by. She paused, stared, and then — With the precision of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing — She grabbed a handful of your baggy shirt at the back and yanked it tight around your torso.

You yelped, hands flailing, but it was too late. Your figure — your waist, your hips, the unmistakable curve of a body that binding couldn't completely hide — was on full display. Even your chest, flattened by layers of wrapping, still gave a betraying outline.

The deck went dead silent.

Sanji dropped his plate. (Shattered on the deck. He didn’t even blink.) Zoro's swords made a quiet rattling noise against his hip when his hands twitched.

Nami gave a smug little "huh." "Thought so," she said, smirking. You spluttered, trying to wrench your shirt free, panic skyrocketing into orbit.

And then — From his perch on the railing, Luffy squinted at you. Voice calm. Casual. Deadly serious.

"...Are you a woman?"

You opened your mouth to deny it. You really did. You were ready to bluff, to backpedal, to fake faint, something.

But instead you made a sound like: "Bu- wha- I — no — I mean yes — WAIT—"

Which sounded a lot less convincing out loud.

Everyone stared at you.

You slumped, defeated. "...Yeah," you mumbled, tugging your shirt loose and crossing your arms awkwardly. "I'm a woman. I just...I didn’t want it to be a big deal."

There was a beat of heavy, stunned silence.

And then —

Sanji made a noise like a dying kettle and bolted below deck, trailing smoke and screams. Zoro just stood there, fists clenched, a vein throbbing at his temple, looking personally betrayed by the universe. Chopper let out a tiny "Ohhh..." of realization. Usopp sat down immediately like his knees gave out. Nami looked entirely too pleased with herself. Robin, sipping tea in the corner, smiled enigmatically. And Luffy just nodded. "Cool," he said simply. Then added, thoughtful, "You’re still strong. That's all that matters."

You blinked. Stared.

Then laughed, half-hysterical, half-relieved. "...Thanks, Captain."

Meanwhile, somewhere below deck, you could hear Sanji screaming into a barrel. And Zoro hadn't moved an inch, still trying to reboot his brain.

-

You didn’t see Sanji for the rest of the afternoon. Apparently, he had flung himself into the kitchen and barricaded the door with chairs and a suspicious amount of flour sacks. Only muffled thuds and the occasional tortured scream leaked out.

Zoro had gone back to his usual nap spot, arms crossed, pretending he didn’t exist. (Though you noticed he hadn’t fallen asleep. His eye kept twitching every time you walked by.)

-

Inside the kitchen, Sanji was dying. Flat out. Not even exaggerating. Dead.

He crouched on the floor, hands clutched in his hair, cigarette smoldering in an ashtray untouched. His brain kept looping the same awful, horrifying, completely scandalous thought:

"I thought I was falling for a MAN."

He had been panicking for days. Waking up sweating after dreams of your smile, your stupid laugh, the way you shoved your hair back with your knuckles. He had thought he was broken. Had spent hours chain-smoking and questioning everything he'd ever known about himself. Was he that flexible?? Was he...enlightened??? Was he just that desperate???

And now — Now —

You were a woman. You had always been a woman. A beautiful, frustrating, sharp-tongued, irresistible woman.

"It's WORSE," he groaned into the floor. "NOW I DON'T HAVE ANY DEFENSE."

Because at least before, he had been able to deny it. Tell himself it was just admiration. Brotherhood. Something else. Now it was just... real.

"I'm screwed," he mumbled pathetically. Usopp popped his head in. "Hey, dinner soon —" Sanji threw a bread roll at him. It missed by a mile. Usopp wisely shut the door again.

Meanwhile on deck, you sat awkwardly at the table as the others danced around you. Nami — never one to miss an opportunity — leaned over and stage-whispered, "You know, you could totally milk this." You blinked. "Milk what?" She smirked. "The fact that half the crew’s having a breakdown over you."

You turned slowly to see: Zoro stabbing tiny holes into the deck with a toothpick. Sanji still absent, probably eating drywall. Chopper pretending not to stare with big, confused eyes. Robin sipping tea like she was watching a soap opera. And Luffy, chill as always, stuffing his face with meat.

You groaned into your hands. "This is a disaster."

Nami just patted you on the head. "Welcome to the crew, sweetheart."

Later that night, you found Sanji sitting alone on the steps to the galley, a cigarette dangling limply from his mouth. He looked up when you approached. Paused. Stared at you like you were a ghost he wasn’t sure was real.

You sat down beside him. Close, but not touching. The night air was salty, warm, alive.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then Sanji muttered, so low you almost missed it: "I thought...I thought there was something wrong with me." You blinked. Turned to him. His blue eyes were serious, shadowed under messy blond bangs. "I thought I was falling for a guy," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "And it scared the hell out of me."

Your heart twisted. You bumped your shoulder lightly against his. "Sorry," you said quietly. "I didn’t mean to screw with your head."

Sanji let out a long, shaky breath. "...It’s not your fault."

You smiled faintly. "If it helps," you added, teasing just a little, "you've got good taste either way."

That earned a strangled, choked-off noise from him. You laughed — a real, honest laugh.

For the first time all day, Sanji smiled too.

A little broken. A little dizzy. But real.

-

You didn’t sleep that night. You tried — gods, you tried — but the guilt itched under your skin like a bad sunburn. Even though Luffy had shrugged it off. Even though Nami had laughed and clapped you on the back. Even though Chopper had promised he'd still be your doctor (and asked very seriously if he needed to learn more about women’s anatomy now). Even though Sanji...well, Sanji was still recovering, but he hadn’t blamed you.

You still felt like a fraud. Like you’d lied to them. Hidden a part of yourself they deserved to know. You weren’t brave like Robin. You weren’t strong like Nami. You were just...you. And you’d been afraid.

You sat at the very bow of the ship, hugging your knees to your chest, staring out at the glittering black sea. Trying not to cry. Trying not to feel like a coward.

"Oi."

The voice made you jump. You turned to see Zoro standing behind you, arms crossed, expression unreadable in the moonlight. You quickly scrubbed at your eyes with your sleeve, pretending you hadn’t been tearing up. (You weren’t fooling anybody.)

He walked over and dropped down beside you, sitting cross-legged. The two of you stared out at the sea in silence for a long moment.

Finally, you muttered, voice raw, "I feel like a liar." You swallowed thickly. "I joined this crew pretending to be someone I’m not. I didn’t trust you guys. I—" Your voice cracked and you bit it back. "Maybe I don’t deserve to be here."

You kept your eyes on the water. You didn’t want to see him looking disappointed. Didn’t want to see that familiar, inevitable rejection you’d seen on other ships, in other ports.

But instead — Instead —

Zoro spoke. Voice low. Rough around the edges.

"You remind me of someone."

You blinked. Looked at him cautiously. He wasn’t looking at you — he was staring out at the horizon, jaw tight, the moon casting pale light over his face.

"Her name was Kuina," he said. "My first rival. My first friend. She was stronger than me. Smarter. Faster." He exhaled slowly. "But she wasn’t allowed to be those things. Because she was a girl."

You stared at him, stunned. He shrugged, shoulders heavy.

"She hid it. Hid how much it hurt. Hid how scared she was of being left behind." He finally turned to you. Green eyes steady, no judgment. Just a fierce, stubborn kind of understanding.

"You’re not a coward," he said simply. "You were surviving."

You opened your mouth. No words came out. Just a quiet, choked-off sound as you fought back another wave of emotion.

Without a word, Zoro reached over and ruffled your hair. Roughly. Awkwardly. Like he didn’t know how to be gentle, but he was trying anyway.

Then he clapped a heavy hand on your shoulder, almost knocking you over, and grunted, "You’re one of us. Don't forget it."

You let out a wet, broken laugh, scrubbing at your eyes again. Then nodded fiercely, sniffling.

Zoro gave you a tiny, lopsided smirk. "Good." Then he stood, dusted off his pants, and jerked his chin toward the galley. "C'mon. You missed dinner. I saved you some."

You scrambled to your feet, warmth blooming in your chest despite yourself.

Maybe...maybe it was going to be okay after all.

-

Even after the truth came out, you didn’t change much. You still wore loose shirts. Still bound your chest. Still kept your voice low and your hair tied back.

When you hit a new island, you went right back into your "guy act" — walking a little different, laughing a little rougher. Old habits were hard to break. Besides, it was safer. You weren't about to take chances just because the crew knew.

The others didn’t mind. Nami winked at you like she was in on a grand joke. Robin smiled that knowing smile of hers. Zoro acted like nothing had changed at all (but you caught him standing closer in crowds, casual but deliberate). Luffy didn’t care either way. Chopper still worried about your health 24/7. Usopp got over his initial nosebleed and went right back to being your sparring buddy.

But Sanji. Ohhhh, Sanji.

Sanji was suffering.

In public, he was trying so hard to act normal. He treated you the way he treated the guys — casual, friendly, no heart-eyes, no swooning, no over-the-top flirting. (You could feel the effort radiating off him like a fever.) He would clap you on the back instead of offering you his arm. Would say "Oi, bro!" with a strained smile instead of "My sweet angel of the sea!" Would grit his teeth every time you got hit on by strangers and he had to let you do the punching.

And when it was just the crew? He still hesitated. Torn between instinct and duty. Hovering like he wanted to offer you a chair, a drink, a flower — but afraid he'd embarrass you. Afraid he’d make you feel weird. Afraid he’d slip and somehow blow your cover by treating you "too soft."

One night, after a long day on a new island, you found him fidgeting with a tray of tea in the galley, glancing at you and then quickly away. You tilted your head. "...Sanji."

He froze like a guilty cat. "Y-Yeah?"

You set your elbow on the table, chin in your hand, and smiled — small, real. "You’re allowed to think of me as a woman." Your voice was gentle, steady. "Even if I'm dressed like this." You shrugged, trying to make it sound casual. "I’m still me."

The tension visibly floated out of him, like you’d untied a thousand knots at once. His shoulders dropped. His whole body softened.

For a second he just stared at you, blue eyes wide with something close to awe. Then —

With a flourish so smooth it was almost insulting —

He pulled a rose from nowhere. (Seriously. Did he pull it out of his sleeve? His hair? Out of his ass???)

He dropped to one knee in front of you with a practiced flick of his wrist, presenting the rose like it was a sacred treasure.

"Mon cher," he breathed, suddenly overflowing with the usual Sanji drama, "Forgive me for holding back my adoration! Allow me to serve you with all the devotion of my soul!"

You burst out laughing — not mocking, not cruel — just happy. Happy to see him being himself again.

You took the rose with a little twirl between your fingers. "You're such a dork," you said affectionately. Sanji beamed like you’d handed him the moon.

In the corner, Zoro grumbled, "Idiot." (But even he looked a little less tense.)

-

That night, you tucked the rose into the rigging above your hammock. A quiet reminder. You didn’t have to hide everything. Not here. Not with them.

-

You were getting used to the new normal. Sort of. At least now Sanji didn't look like he was going to spontaneously combust every time you smiled at him. Zoro still grumbled, but he grumbled at everyone, so you were pretty sure that was affection.

But not everything was perfect.

It started when you were helping Luffy move barrels across the deck. You heaved one over your shoulder, gritting your teeth, when you felt it — the awful too-tight pinch of your binding under your shirt. You winced, hand instinctively flying to your ribs. You thought you hid it pretty well. But not from Chopper.

"HEY!!"

You barely turned before the little reindeer doctor was zooming over on all fours, his hat flapping wildly. He skidded to a halt in front of you, eyes huge with horror. "You’re binding wrong!!" he scolded, stamping his tiny hooves. "You're gonna hurt yourself! That’s dangerous!!"

You flushed, glancing around — but most of the crew was busy elsewhere. You knelt down, trying to shush him. "Chopper, it’s fine," you said in a low voice. "It’s just a little tight today—"

"THAT'S NOT FINE!!" He slapped your arm with his tiny hoof for emphasis. "If you wear bad bindings for too long you can break your ribs or damage your lungs or — or —" He was getting himself so worked up you thought he might pass out.

You sighed, smiling tiredly. "Alright, alright. I’ll be more careful. Promise." Chopper sniffled, clearly still worried, but nodded. "I’ll make you a better wrap later," he muttered fiercely. "You’re part of my crew. I gotta keep you healthy."

You ruffled his hat with a warm chuckle. "Thanks, Doc." He beamed up at you. ("Also," he added seriously, "I’m gonna make you drink so much milk.") You decided not to argue.

Later that evening, as the sun slipped low and the ship rocked lazily over calm waters, you sat by the rail, arms folded loosely across your knees.

A soft shadow fell over you.

You looked up to see Robin approaching, a calm smile on her lips. She sat down beside you with the kind of easy grace that always made you feel clumsy by comparison.

For a while, she didn’t say anything. Just sat there, watching the water with you. Finally, she spoke. Voice quiet.

"You know," she said, "pretending to be someone you’re not isn’t always cowardice."

You looked at her, startled. She smiled, faint and secretive. "I spent years living under different names. Wearing different faces. Hiding my true self." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sometimes it’s survival."

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat. Robin turned those deep, steady eyes on you.

"But it’s also brave," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "To survive, yes. But also to finally choose when — and how — to show your real self."

You blinked fast, your throat tight.

Robin reached over and gently squeezed your hand. "You don’t owe anyone the parts of you you’re not ready to share."

You squeezed her hand back. Hard. Silent, but full of everything you couldn’t quite say.

For a little while longer, the two of you just sat there, listening to the lap of the waves and the soft creak of the ship. And for the first time in a long time, you didn't feel like you were carrying the whole weight of it alone.

[fishermon]

Okie dokie this is the last piece of art in the fic (not the last one i have or probably will draw, though), it'll be in one of the last couple chapters whenever I write them, as long as I don't do anything stupid and add in a whole new plotline again 💀 (this drawing of Simon painted live by Johnny was meant to be where the fic ended at one point... And now it's in chapter 23 and I'm currently writing chapter 42 lol)

Simon goes to visit his families graves, and Johnny sits back quietly to give him space and to draw him

I'm so proud of how this piece turned out, honestly, it's my first piece for this fic with a full background, and its the best attempt at a watercolour style so far (it's a million times better than my first attempt, the colours on that one were SO unbelievably muddy it was awful, looked like me as a 12 year old painted it lol)

Close ups and details I really liked under the thingy :]

1. This scruffy little family portrait which I find ridiculously endearing, and then only makes me sadder because look how happy they were, look how well they were doing before they were murdered.

2. The fact that Joseph died when he was only two years old in this fic :( he was so small, he was still a baby.

3. The lavender Simon left in a vase by his mum's grave, because her favourite flower was Lavender, and she wore lavender deodorant, so that smell is one Simon finds comfort in.

4. Simon's dad's grave being completely untended to, because fuck that guy, even his gravestone can rot.

5. I just generally love this broken bit of fence.

6. This little alleyway behind it all with a big bin and one of those little side chimneys/steam vents.

7. I'm weirdly proud of this window and gutter too for some reason. The buildings all look so drab and that's exactly how I wanted them.

[stringlessau]

IT'S STRINGLESS' 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY (+ early concept art compilation)

Posting this dumbass little video to start off the day since we have a lot of little gifts for our awesome community today.

One of those things is something i've been wanting to do for a very long while: posting a lot of the original concept art for stringless (since ive always enjoyed seeing other people's early concepts) some of these i have posted massively before, some are completely unseen, so it'll be fun

This one is the page that started it all, his design is at the same time largely unchanged and also completely different

All i have to say is that it originally said (regarding spamton and swatch) "they bicker like an old married couple" but then i thought about it and i changed it so theyre literally just married

Didnt mean to make swatchton, made it anyway lmfao

Right after that, i got working on neo designs, I wanted to make him really scary looking, the original concept was to make him look skeletal and generally for him to look insane and like he had been reanimated from the dead, but a lot of people had told me over time that they didn't really like the design, I was very defensive over it but I ended up taking criticism and i actually really like the new neo, it balances the uncanniness of the original design with the sleekness of my new art

Payton was a natural next step, without someone to sell the thorn ring there'd be no neo, so although his design visually stayed almost the same, he went through a lot of color revisions (thanks mostly to @maskedalterego, who helped me to nail his final color palette), he suggested the gloves, and helped me to balance the saturation of the design since really I've never had a good eye for color.

His final design, color wise, was just me experimenting using the colors of my sona at the time on him, which I was hesitant to do but was so happy with the palette that I kept it.

It's interesting that he was originally intended to be the pink addison (since he sells one of the snowgrave required rings), and the reason he ended up being the blue addison was corey beepington (and the eviction notice short which I have taken one too many concepts from), this still influenced me to make his outfit pink initially, which still is a huge part of his character design

That exact same night, I created concept art for Raster (weirdly, I was sure I created them before Payton, but it might be because I was generally uninterested in Payton earlier on), their design is also largely unchanged, I just got better with shapes and color, I also ended up changing their cheek markings after seeing some swatchton fanchild art by ne0nbandit

A first until now, the first concepts for payton neo were made on paper

I took very long on this design, and I only updated it every few weeks to make tweaks because I felt the concept was too good but my execution didnt make it justice

I'm very proud of how the design looks now, as of the latest neo redesigns, I feel I could finally make this idea justice

Swatch's design went through some last minute changes, I wanted to use this color palette for swatch to contrast with spamton, but decided against it, then i changed their hair to be longer, to make their Stringless design distinct from their regular Deltarune design

Historically, these two are pretty important, the first pieces of art I ever made featuring Rakhin's old design, when he wasn't part of stringless and I was just befriending rope (he made me Payton fanart first, fell in love with his style), the contrast is beautiful

Now to finish this post, here's some unseen Snowgrave route art I made over the time Stringless has been in development, they're all pretty quick sketches, but i love them nonetheless

Thanks everyone for the insane reception this AU has gotten, I haven't been feeling very good this whole year for a huge amount of reasons I can't get into, but Stringless and its community always helps me to remember why I do the things I do

Thanks for everyone's comments and everyone's kindness, thanks especially to @theropeaaa , for being the literal other half of this AU, without whom I couldn't have ever done the Stringless pages, @maskedalterego for helping me and listening to my ramblings since the start, @scamp-boxx for being this AU's biggest hype man (the first ever comment on the first spamton concept art was by them, and they helped me nail so much of the snowgrave route), @boykisserwoah and @weirdohno , for also being here from the start and making an absolutely insane amount of fanart oh my god, @gutamajunk , for motivating me to create Raster, and writing several story outlines on the first days of stringless that were the foundation for the pages, and diaryous milch and rory, our friends that have helped with character designs, story ideas, voice acting and have generally been instrumental to what stringless is today

THANKS EVERYONE <3

-Nick

[dragonsneakers]

Donnie and Leo your honor

-

This is a chapter for the fic I'm working on, you don't really need the rest for context but check it out if you want to

read on ao3!

-

-

Donnie wakes up before Leo. Weird way to start the morning but he’ll survive. Maybe. They had a twin sleepover last night, part of the help Leo plan that’s getting increasingly more complicated. More than it had been to get him through weeks of bedridden fever induced injuries and escape attempts, the physical therapy and the knee brace he still has to wear sometimes. When old wounds act up in new and unforeseen ways. 

Leo had been hugging his arms last night, well, more like all of yesterday. Shrinking. It always rubs Donnie the wrong way to see Leo in obvious distress. No matter how subtle his twin thinks he is. Puns and one liners and smug smiles. 

Tired eyes.

So Donnie initiated a sleepover. A genius move on his part, but let’s be honest, when are his moves not genius? And Leo had fallen asleep! Absolutely insane! The group chat had heard all about it, as well as seen, with the candid photo of Leo clutching Donnie’s hoodie covered arm and leaning on his shoulder. Donnie loves this new picture.

Now, in the quiet of dawn (probably, down in the sewers they never really know when the sun is rising, earth tilt and all that. Scratch that Donnie does know because he knows everything–) Donnie watches Leo breathe evenly, knows he’s asleep because his features are relaxed to a point that he hasn’t been able to fake. No mask for peace quite yet. Hopefully one never appears. 

See Donnie has another plan. A sub plan to the main plan. A side quest if you will. He’s been researching and cooking this one up ever since April pulled him aside and explained Leo’s anxiety to the rest of the family, in her patented I’m keeping it together because I’m April O’Neil voice. They brainstormed how to fix that. 

Hmm. Not really something that can be fixed usually. Well. Perhaps for anyone but Hamato Donatello. Sixteen year old brilliant scientist and protector of brothers. Especially younger twin’s who need some extra looking-out-for.

Donnie pulls up the spreadsheet with a flicker of familiar ninpo. The light hits Leo gently and he wiggles, hugging Donnie’s pillow. Thief. The things Donnie would do for this guy. 

Leo does wake up pretty quickly after that though, burying his face in the covers and taking a deep, deep breath. A habit picked up over the years. Always comes with waking up for the slider. Donnie wonders if it’s part of the anxiety. If they could circumvent the morning nausea with breathing. Leo doesn’t seem to think so; his face scrunches up and he sits up, looking for Donnie. 

“I have a list,” Donnie starts.

Leo, half awake and shaking off a weirdly, deep, peaceful sleep, hits his twin with an insincere deadpan and rubs his eyes.

“Why, D.”

“I like lists.”

“I mean yeah. I know. Why bring it up right this second though?” He yawns hugely and shuffles out of the blankets to press his shoulder against Donnie’s. Donnie, in return, nudges against him and bonks their heads together sideways.

“It’s for you.”

“...Nice.” And Donnie genuinely can’t tell if that was sarcasm or not.

First though, the original plan, the one before all the moving pieces got involved. Because it has been proven several times over and Donnie is a man of science. And Donnie’s not a softie for his family even a little bit. This is for science.

So the softshell stands up, dislodging Leo and sweeping around to grab his twin. Starting the morning hug while Leo’s not awake from insomnia or even fully comprehending the day. Nailing this day. That’s Donnie’s side quest. Pull this off. Joy and whimsy and Leo’s happy little smile, the one that crawls on his face and squishes it. Micheal would be so proud of this moment. Donnie wouldn’t be surprised if he’s watching somehow. 

Picking Leo up off the bed, Donnie hugs him fully, a good touch day and glad to have it. Leo’s warm from the blankets and shaking off the settle of sleep. He wraps his arms around Donnie and rests his head on his shoulder. They share space, as twins do. Donnie makes sure to feel all the contentedness he possibly can. Tries to pass it through the little winding paths in their minds. Where the ninpo lives and the twins share a sky. Brewing storms, lighting and wind.

“What’s on the list?” Leo mumbles, fingers tap-tap-tapping at Donnie’s leathery soft shell.

“I’m so glad you asked, dearest ‘Nardo.” 

…

“What’s this for again?” Leo asks, chewing his breakfast burrito. Mikey looks up curiously from where he has his nose buried in a new facebook recipe, fingers clenched around the industrial strength case. 

“What’s what for?” 

“The list.” Ominous.

“What list?”

“The list of crimes I’m turning you over to the police for,” Leo says seriously, setting his burrito down and sneaking over to Mikey. Donnie raises an eyebrow. “Number one,” and Leo grabs Mikey and nuzzles his cheek while the box turtle squeals and tries to scramble away, “being too gosh darn adorable!” Leo has his voice pitched up to be so saccharine it loops into teasing.

“Knock it off, Leo! I’d go to jail for a much cooler crime!” Mikey grumbles, hugging the slider even through his indignation. 

“Like what?”

“Murder!”

“Hell yes ‘Angelo,” Donnie says, raising his coffee mug like a toast. The younger two continue to squabble as Raph looks on fondly. Though his hero mindset might be concerned. Mind Raph debating on how much trouble the tide pod duo could reasonably cause.

“We don’t kill people,” the eldest says seriously. Smiling. Donnie pretends to pout, matching Leo and Mikey who turn big eyes at their brother. “We do NOT,” Raph repeats, sweating. He taps his fingers together nervously. “We haven’t?”

Donnie shares a very pointed look with Leo. 

Mikey grins like a shark at Raph.

“There’s no way,” he says, trying to convince himself more than state fact Donnie assumes. 

“Guess we’ll never know, Raphie,” Mikey says sweetly. Leo cackles from his perch on the counter, back to his breakfast, cheeks full like a chipmunk. Ew.

Raph grumbles something about brother nonsense and the twins corrupting Mikey. Donnie chuckles to himself (read; says “chuckles” aloud. To himself.) because Mikey couldn’t possibly be corrupted. Sweetest force of nature on the planet. Like a hurricane of sunshine and sparkles. Still capable of destruction.

The twins had no part of that. It’s just how Mikey is.

“Seriously though, Leo, what’s the list?” Mikey asks again, saying it like it’s a mysterious object found on a quest. This will come in handy later. Leo tilts his head and drums his fingers on the counter. Can’t sit still.

“I told you! Criminal!” Oddly shy about it?

Donnie opens his mouth to explain but Leo whips toward him with such a vulnerable, pleading look that the softshell takes physical damage, ducking into his mug. Ok. The list is secret then. Help has to be subtle. Donnie knew this. They all do. Part of Leo is his infallibility. Gotta protect that or he’ll feel like he has nothing left. Sure. Donnie can keep it a secret. Anything for his twin after all.

Mikey side eyes Leo but must decide it’s not worth it, leaning into the joke once again instead.

“Your silly list won’t convict me of anything, the jury won’t survive this baby face!” Cue anime shiny eyes and Raph’s knee jerk reaction to coo. 

“To answer your original question, ‘Nardo, this–” Donnie gestures at the kitchen. Nine am. Breakfast. Family. Etc etc. “--is integral to the function of the list. The whole point one might say.”

“I’m confused.”

“Shocker.” Donnie raises a perfect brow when Leo sticks his tongue out. Because he’s more mature than the slider obviously. Okay maybe he also sticks his tongue out, mocking his twin. But you can’t prove that, and you didn’t see. So there.

“Shocker,” Leo repeats, in a nerd voice, laughing through it. “I’m Donnie and I’m omnipotent.” He pulls the hand dance move that Raph ALSO does when he mocks the genius. Donnie is unappreciated in this family. He should’ve pursued world domination instead. Made Shelldon in charge or something.

Still, he can’t resist. 

“I’m Leo and I cried during Sonic 3,” he says, using the betrayed theater kid voice both twins mastered in a blanket fort years and years ago.

“You did too!” He did not.

“I did not!”

“If y’all don’t stop right this instant Raph will noogie you into next week.” Both twins squeak but Leo’s is obviously more embarrassing, backing away from the snapping turtle as he assumes an attack stance.

“If you three fight in my flawless kitchen I’ll GET YOU,” Mikey adds sweetly, hopping on the counter next to Leo, who turns wide eyes to his baby brother and then flicks them at Donnie. Like: help me! He’s going to GET me! A fate worse than death of course. And not one Donnie would like to tempt at this moment.

They have more list to get to anyways. Secret tasks. Side quests. 

Exciting!

“Come along, dearest twin, we have a day to have,” he states, already slinking out of the kitchen. Leo mutters “a day to have what kinda goofy ah phrasing is that” while he slides off the counter.

“Twin day! Twin day!”

Raph begins his going out speech at the , “Please don’t get arrested or killed or commit crimes or harass billionaires again or become local legends or cripids or commit arson especially or prank April’s mom or tie high school kids shoes together or enroll in shady theater troops or do donuts in parking lots or drift through wizard con or drink more than ONE energy drink or–”

“Cheese and crackers, Raph that’s like our whole day!” Leo cries in delight, smiling so hard it must hurt. Not fake though. Not a mask. Unbearably fond. “That was everything Donnie planned, all gone, put to waste! However shall we entertain ourselves.”

“Yeah, alright, Leon.” Raph comes over and noogies the slider. “I’m serious though. Stop harassing billionaires. They’re not smart enough to react in a mature way.” At Leo’s unwavering smile Raph sighs in defeat. “Minimal harassment!”

But Leo’s already caught Donnie in the doorway and swung around it.

“No promises!” And then he cackles madly down the hallway, rushing to his room to pull on his sonadow hoodie most likely. Or one of Donnie’s that he swears just mysteriously ended up in his laundry and he didn’t steal, promise D!

“I’d go gray if I had any hair,” Raph says, settling at the table with a third burrito. Unbothered. He faces Donnie, still leaning in the doorway like a cool unemotional bad boy. “You got him today?”

“Without fail, brother. I bid thee adieu.” And he saunters away. Off to grab a hoodie of his own. Today feels like a Hatsune Miku day. “‘Michelangelo.”

“Donatello.”

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Aw of course, Dee!”

…

It’s warm and chilly out. The sun providing direct protection from the bristling wind that’s whipping through the city. Donnie feels refreshed. It’s refreshing. 

The twins jump roofs, laughing and tripping each other, Leo cheating with portals and Donnie cheating with heat seeking missiles. They chase each other and soak up the sun. Leo almost eats it over the edge of a building, caught up in the fun and Donnie has an arm out to catch him, to grab his arm and drag him to safety and chide him for being careless. But Leo rights himself with ease, breathing it off with a giggle. Completely unphased. Usually so afraid of heights. One of the many things the Hamato household watches out for, for Leo. Roofs and ledges and free falls that aren’t fun anymore, alone in the middle of the night, woken up from nightmares. They take care of him. Watch a little closer than two years ago. 

Donnie likes to believe he’s always been watching. Looking out for his twin. It’s his job after all. A give and take. Leo looks out for him in return. Equals. Twins.

He shakes off the emptied gun of fear. Turns the matching easy smile to Leo. And they jump the gap together. Breathless on the rooftop of the building they claimed as a secret hideout years ago. It’s an apartment with a stuck lock the landlord refuses to fix and the attendants don’t care about. So the hideout has a hidden cooler with more than one energy drink haha take that Raph and a thick outdoor blanket for stargazing or people watching or general chaos. 

Leo cracks an Alani and sips it carefully, hiding his fingers in his hoodie as a breath of cold air sweeps through. Hm. Maybe it’s a little cold out. Oh well. The sun feels nice. And the turtle in him demands Donnie lay and enjoy it.

This morning, he’d shown Leo the list, knowing that his beloved twin would read into it but not quite reach the underhanded care. Levels of deception in this family. 

It simply reads:

-Breakfast

-Fresh air

-Sunshine

-Clean room

-Video games

“So a to do list?” Leo asked, squinting at it. The purple Ninpo reflecting like a cat in his eyes. Creature eyes. Donnie had never thought about that before. How their eyes suck up light like a fellow animal. Something to test he supposed. Exciting! He filed that away for later.

“In a way.”

“You made ME a to do list?” The honest confusion had pleased Donnie at the time. Pulled one over on the strategist. Nice.

“Well. Yes you. And also me. This is what we’re doing for our twin day.”

Leo had shot him an incredibly happy look. Smiling, smiling, smiling. 

“Really? We’re having a twin day?”

“Why of course! I simply went ahead and planned the itinerary.”

Leo looked at the list again, analyzing. He frowned for half a second, trying to figure it out. But Donnie had honestly prepared to hangout with him. The deception came with trying to get rid of the anxious explosion without bringing it up. Or talking about it at a later date. Leo talked plenty with April, and he’d get more talks about it eventually. However Donnie had a hypothesis to test. And that involved Leo’s clinical eyes not finding anything. And he didn’t. Score, excellent, round of applause.

“Cool. I like it. Even if it’s weird.”

“Why’s it weird.”

“Because you made it, ‘Tello. And you’re weird.”

“YOU’RE weird.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh. And also. I cast fireball!”

And then they beat each other up (affectionate).

“Pass me a good one,” Donnie says, dismissing his Ninpo. Leo tosses the stardust flavor, threatening to shake it while Donnie extends his neck menacingly, raising his eyebrows higher and higher until Leo laughs.

“You like the worst one,” he says.

“Not everything has to be blue to be good, Leo.”

“Um yes? All blue things are just automatically better. Especially better than purple things. I don’t make the rules. It was the universe. Or Gram-gram probably. Yeah. Yes. Of course. She decided.”

Donnie snorts. “She most certainly didn’t. Purple is the superior color. Always has been. THAT, is scientific fact. Ask any scientist. I know them all.”

Leo rolls onto his front, turning the energy drink around and around in his hands. “It must be hard being wrong all the time. I can’t even imagine.” With the shit eating grin. The I’m starting something, are you in?

ALRIGHT.

Properly insulted, Donnie summons a bazooka and takes aim while Leo cackles like the menace he is, rolling around and snort laughing. Donnie fires. Leo sputters as he’s covered in mystic glitter. Completely purple. He looks at Donnie. Donnie looks at Leo.

They explode with laughter, high and annoying, obnoxious like teenagers should be. A little hysterical, like twins should be. Leo tackles Donnie in a hug and hopelessly spreads the glitter, now the genius could dismiss it, Ninpo after all. But this is so much funnier; squeezing a hug into his chilled twin, drawing stars into the glitter on his hoodie covered shell. Morse code.

Love you.

“Love you too, ‘Tello!” Leo exclaims brightly.

He tries to escape, but Donnie abruptly misses his twin for no reason. A pang of minutes spent alone. Only a few. It felt like forever. He hugs Leo tighter. Dismisses the glitter finally and taps the morse code message again.

This feels like forever too.

“Lemme goooooo,” Leo whines, unserious. Warm in the hug.

“Timber,” Donnie states flatly, and falls over.

Leo giggles. 

They lay in the sun.

“Tello.”

“Nardo.”

“I’m cold.”

“Massive L.”

“Wow okay.”

But Donnie’s already getting up, closing the cooler, tugging at the blanket Leo continues to lay on. He rolls like a mouse off of it. Donnie folds it perfectly and Leo takes their empty cans.

“Who should we portal them to?” He kicks on the wickedest grin, devious, devious twin of Donnie’s.

“Someone truly evil.”

“I’m so all over it,” Leo says, he swings one katana above his head, “Hachiiiiii maaaaachiii—” and a spinning portal appears, he disrespectfully chucks the empty cans into it and is met with a yelp. The twins high five and Leo snaps the portal shut. They high five again for good measure. To ensure it echoes over the city. Maybe interrupts traffic. 

“Portal home or run?” Leo asks, with his easy smile.

Donnie clocks his shit. His job after all. Leo’s shaking, cold, like he said. What an impressive admittance from the bottled up slider. Donnie feels a spark of pride for how hard Leo’s trying. How hard he always tries. He clocks Leo’s weight shift to one side. Idiot not wearing his knee brace. 

A stronger breeze whips through and both turtles shiver.

Yeah they’re portalling.

“Let’s portal. I’m hungry anyways, the faster we get snacks the better,” Donnie says.

“Of course of course. Where would we be if you were hungry?”

“Dead. Chop chop.”

“Lmao.”

Stepping through the portal comes as easy as breathing. Donnie has full trust in Leo. Always has. They appear in the kitchen, sadly not startling Mikey who’s busy whisking dry ingredients for something or other. He simply nods in their direction and wiggles to his music. 

“ ‘Clean room’, D?”

“Yes.”

Mikey tilts his head, realizes he doesn’t care about keeping up with their conversation, and jumps on the counter to grab the liquid measuring cup. 

“Yours or mine though.”

“Yours.”

Leo makes a face. Like he ate a lemon on a dare (not that Donnie would know).

“K.”

Hm.

Leo starts pulling out sandwich supplies. Salami and cheese from the fridge, bread from the cupboards, a cutting board and plates. He bumps hips with Mikey, trying to distract the box turtle who grumbles and scoots aside so Leo can grab a butter knife.

Materials acquired, the twins make camp at the table. Leo sits on top of it. Donnie retrieves cups and juice.

Donnie wonders how Leo feels. He seems content. Happy. Shouldn’t be a mask; Leo got kind of bad at using them after the invasion, little bits of stage play attempts falling to pieces. He cried a lot in the med bay. Shared a lot of things Donnie would’ve thought he’d take to his grave. Well, things he almost did. Maybe that’s why. 

Lots of apologies in the med bay too. Mumbled under anesthesia and slurry with exhaustion. The whole family hated it. Hates it now when Leo apologizes for nothing. 

They eat their sandwiches and drink their juice. Donnie wonders how Leo feels. He wonders. Could guess. Wouldn’t hurt. Not going to ask though. Leo’s got the easiest smile on, offering his wind whipped cheeks to Mikey to match grins with the baby brother. Mikey tells the twins he loves them. He loves them.

Donnie matches his younger brothers. 

As all consuming as the invasion had been, this crystallizes as more important. They can move on from anything else. 

“Let’s go clean your room, Leo,” he says.

“Ughhhhh, do we have to??”

“Yup! It’s on the list. Gotta follow the list.”

“How could I forget. The world could end again if the list goes incomplete.” 

“You get it.”

Leo sighs again. Interesting.

“Well let’s go.”

“I got your dishes guys,” Mikey says, already filling the sink with his baking supplies and dumping soap. “But you owe me ice cream–okayitsadealbyebye!!”

“Yeah,” Leo says, glancing at Mikey snickering to himself, “Let’s go.”

-

-

Lemme know if the link doesn't work I haven't done this before

[emmyrosee]

are u down 4 sum lil angst?? well, i'm just curious how would it be being the famous star volleyball player, Sakusa Kiyoomi's TOTGA?

YOU HAD N O RIGHT MATE

ok so fun emmy history, back when I was a wee child and before the miya twins were even a thing, i wrote a self insert that I’m still weirdly proud of today so congratulations, you scratched that memory HHEISBSOSN-

Hey! Future Emmy here. so... major tw; kiyoomi is very mean, extremely toxic, and i for sure went overboard, but there's a lot of blaming and yelling and just. ugh. this piece hurt my own heart smh.

-

But listen. You slipped into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s life surprisingly. He wasn’t expecting you or even just to date at all, you were just at the right places in the right times where he finally felt at ease in your presence. You just understood who he was beyond surface level, and he’d never had that in someone before.

You loved him before he was cool, before he was anyone other than a top ace in Japan. You were the first to tell him it was okay to mess up, do something other than eat drink and sleep volleyball, even if he wants it to take up most of his time.

Time, he no longer has, when he gets injured.

It wasn't like it was an inopportune time- though, as a college athlete, there really is no good time to get injured- if anything, it was spontaneous and had he not had dreams of making it big, he'd never think twice of it.

But he gets injured. Junior year of college, just as his name starts to grow in the industry, and he gets injured. Bad ankle, it’s actually a former injury from his childhood that apparently didn’t heal right.

There’s articles that spread about Bokuto Koutarou, how he’s climbing the ranks and how Miya Atsumu, the same little rat who bothered him in high school received an offer from god knows what team, and he’s fuming.

That should be him and his setter getting those offers and climbing that ladder, it’s been him and him alone for years, and he knows it's bitter to hate people for their successes, but its not fucking fair, he deserves more than this.

He deserves more than doctors trying to encourage surgery to heal at the sacrifice of volleyball, he deserves more than flowers and cards of best wishes, more than Miya Atsumu texting him to see if he's okay, he deserves more than any being on earth could give him.

And that includes you.

"Baby, did you finally call the surgeon?" You ask, coming in with a water bottle and a cup of his meds.

Apparently, that's more than enough to set him off.

"I don't need surgery."

He hears you sigh, "the doctor says the tear is too big just for physical therapy, you'll need the extra support-"

"In case you forgot, I was fucking there."

His breath becomes hot, and he can't peel his eyes from the commercials playing on the tv. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and of he could will himself to do it, he'd apologize and tell you he loves you, he's just tense and hurt, and he's grateful you're here, and-

"I'm the one who's life is going down the tubes. Fun fact."

The other thoughts in his mind are static. merely an incoherent buzz. You're his victim now, to his ugliest sides that therapy and his family prodded back years ago.

There's no one to prod it back now.

"I... I didn't mean any harm, I promise-"

"You really shouldn't talk to me right now," he snarls, rage bubbling and clawing away at his soul. There's a bubbling of tears that rip at his waterline in a demand to fall, but he's blinded to anything else.

He hates his life. He hates his ankle. He hates his doctors for telling him it may not heal right ever.

He hates you.

"Kiyoomi, please-"

He bears his teeth like a dog in an attack, and you flinch back slightly. "If you hadn't fucking distracted me, this never would've happened." He hears you whine in your throat.

he ignores it.

"I was fine," he barks. "I was happy before you. I was strong, I was powerful, I was a damned force to be reckoned with." He crawls closer to you on the couch, and when you cower to try and get away, he chases your body with his torso.

When you stand up, he does too. His leg lights every single nerve up in a blaze of agony, but he's too gone in his own rage to think about it.

"I... I know you're mad, but please, sit down Kiyoomi-"

You're right.

"Shut the hell up!"

Even on one foot, he towers over you threateningly. You bring your hands up to try and force distance between you both; your touch does ground him slightly, but not enough to stop his scorn.

You sniffle softly, clearly uncomfortable, "you're just mad... and that's okay. Please stop shouting at me, we can make this work, kiyoomi."

Now, his eyes are scalding with furious tears.

"I want this to work, oomi... please, stop shouting-"

“It doesn’t matter if you want it to work,” he snaps. “I’ve got a plan to stick to that’s already been screwed because of us, AND IT'S YOUR GODDAMNED FAULT!"

When you sob and crumple to your feet, there’s a small part of kiyoomi that comes to, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. He feels… confused, he doesn’t know where it came from inside of him, but the way your eyes water from his words snaps him back to reality.

“I’m… im ruining your plan?” You choke, and god kiyoomi wants the floor to engulf him whole. Because duh, of course now you’re not he’s just the scum of the earth, you’re all he can think of wanting in this shitty life, but he can’t say that, not when your hands cover your mouth in distress and horror, tears slipping over your fingers. He feels the blood leave his face when you take a step back, followed by another, then one as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait-“

“No, Kiyoomi,” you snap, and its his turn to feel your rage, your head whipping to look at him in betrayal. “No. I’m officially done waiting for you.”

And despite the fact that he wants to chase you, wants to gather you in his arms and pin you to the wall and demand you listen to him, listen to why his plan has changed and how you’ve completely ruined all of it in the best ways, he can’t. His leg throbs at the mere idea.

He just. Stands there, frozen for god knows how long, staring at the long slammed door, wondering if you’d come back for something you’d forgot in your exit. Something dumb, like a charger or a water bottle, something easily replaceable but you wanted from him just as a last chance makeup.

But you don’t. And once his good leg starts to cramp from standing there, he slowly moves his way to his bedroom.

And he’s fine. Honest!

Sitting by himself in the cold of night gives him more time to think about the future. The one without you, of course. Limping around the dorm on crutches makes his arms ache and knees weak, and the backpack on his shoulders making him fall forwards is plenty to make his elbows strengthen up (they’re withering away) and his breathing circulate (he’s breathing back tears of pain and frustration.)

He can’t… he can’t do this without you.

Call him selfish, but his life was not only easier with you around, it was better, it was fun to love you and have you scream his name from the stands, but now that seat is occupied by someone else when it should be yours and yours alone.

He’s tried to get over it. He’s tried to get everything in line, get you the hell out of his mind but he can’t.

You’re different. He hates you for it. There’s something about you that refused to leave his mind and soul. Every time someone is interested in him, he feels disgusted because every crush is based on appearances now; it never was with you. Every time someone laughs, his first thought is how much he misses yours. When one of those stupid fast food commercials comes on in the late hours of night, he smiles sadly as he remembers the way your eyes would meet his and you’d beg him for some fries at ungodly hours.

He has to move on. It’s been fucking years. Why hasn’t he moved on?

Any sane person by now would have moved on, passed through his heartbreak and try to find another, but he’s so emotionally unavailable at this point. Every thought and every reminder that plagues him continues to hit like a ton of bricks every time.

Maybe it's guilt.

No, its definitely guilt.

He loved you, more than you could imagine, he appreciated you more than he can express, and to show you how much you mean to him, he blamed you for his failures.

No wonder he deserves to be alone.

And just when his exhaustion can't grow, his self destruction and crumbling self worth can't get lower, he gets thrown in another circle of hell that he seems to find himself in; this time, in a coffee shop he frequents. Not too many familiar faces, just a couple blocks from the train, and up until that point, only having known him as an alias.

Until today, when the Gods decide to torture him a bit more.

“Name?”

“Sakusa,” he says, not even thinking as he scrolls on his phone. There’s a high pitched gasp from the girl, and it makes his eye twitch.

“NO WAY!!! Oh my gosh, you’re THE sakusa kiyoomi?! Oh my gosh, wait, hold on- can I get a picture? No, wait, you’re not into those- can I get an autograph? I knew you looked familiar, my sister and I watch you play all the time! I’m such a fan!-“

“Uh… thanks. Can I have my tea-“

The girl doesn’t answer, instead, she calls for her co-worker who barrels out in equal excitement.

On any normal day, kiyoomi would snap. He’d scold and snarl about how rude they were, how he’s still a fucking person who just so happens to be good at volleyball, but he’s like a deer in headlights. He’s too surprised at his own stupidity of not using his usual alias, how damn tired is he?

There’s a weight that feels like a ton of bricks that settles on his chest once he hears the line behind him complaining about how long it’s taking, then people behind the register flashing pictures that have him blinded and asking him questions he doesn’t want to answer, he just wants his tea for God’s sake and-

“HEY!” There’s a snap from someone at a table, and it breaks up the small, impromptu paparazzi at the front. “People are trying to work here, and not get a damn seizure from your damn pictures!” He feels all that anxiety break on his shoulders once they cower away. “And shame on you all!” They continue, the line slowly parting to let them continue shouting. “He may be famous but he’s still a damn person! Make the fucking drink and GO!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t want to look. Even if he’s eternally grateful for them, he knows that scold and he knows that bravery to call out random people for their shiftiness.

Because it’s the same thing you used to do all those years ago.

He winced and pulls the mask higher on his nose to keep himself concealed- as if he’s not a 190.5 cm monster. But you don’t say anything about anything that just happened, you must be deep in your work to not process just exactly who you were defending.

He gets his tea with a quick apology from the baristas, and he heads to the door to leave.

….

…right?

He’s gone. He’s on the bus, headphones in and heading to practice, audiobook putting him in a new world where his only current connection is the hot tea in his hands.

Right?

There’s always been a table on the bus, a table he rudely stalks up to, where you’re sitting and typing away furiously at your laptop and massaging one of your temples, too engrossed in your work to notice the outside hitter standing just in front of you.

“Uh…” he chews his lip nervously. You don’t look up.

This is the chance Komori’s been talking about. If he doesn’t take it, he’s going to hate himself forever.

“Thank you for standing up for me back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighs staggered, “can I… uhm… repay the favor?”

To his extreme relief, you offer him a small chuckle, “maybe you can recommend a coffee shop where random cele…” your voice drifts off when you look up at him, jaw frozen open and eyes wide and dancing all over his face. You’re both just staring at each other, breathing ragged and tense, and his brows furrowing to try and hide the guilt and absolute need he has for you to continue the conversation.

You clear your throat, “your uhm… your foot healed uh… well.”

He wants to, but can’t, fight the snort that sneaks past his lips because that’s about the last thing he thought you’d say. But he sees you crack a smile too, and it’s worth it.

“Yeah,” he says after he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m playing professionally now. Minor aches here and there, but nothing unusual.”

“So you got to stick with your plan,” you hum sadly, and his heart stops. “That’s wonderful, Sakusa. Im glad to hear it-“

“But my plan never felt complete,” he interrupts, and he sees your nostrils flare in annoyance. “I-I-I thought I knew what I wanted, but god, I didn’t. I don’t, I’ve always only wanted you.”

You offer him a shrug, “Kiyoomi, I was an intruder in your life; I can’t blame you for that, I shouldn’t have been there-“

“I wanted you there.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” you snip, and finally, he sighs in defeat. “You made it just fine without me in your plan.”

Fuck it.

If he’s here, he’s gonna lay all his cards, give you every last thought of his and leave you one more time to pick up your shattered pieces.

“I miss you.”

You freeze, but there’s a glazing of your waterline before you slowly, tensely, turn up to look at him.

“Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t do this, Sakusa.”

“I can’t help it,” he says, own voice twinging raw. "I hate it too. I hate that I've had to carry this weight with me for all these years, years I should've been with you, kept you safe and happy, and I couldn't even do that."

"You shattered what we had. Don't ever forget that."

"I never have been able to."

There's another silence surrounding you both, suffocating and hot and thick, and he gets flashbacks of a scenario not too dissimilar, where you're looking up at him with those same, betrayed eyes.

But your gaze doesn't last. It crumbles before you let out the breath you'd been holding, a sign that you're not going to waste your energy on him anymore, "you're too late, Kiyoomi. You don't get to miss me anymore."

When your hands shift to close your laptop, he sees it. The massive, heavy rock on your finger, glimmering under the soft lights of the coffee shop.

Kiyoomi feels sick. He could faint right now if his pride would let him. Instead, he swallows the bile in his throat and grits his teeth, giving you a smile and a casual scratch of the back of his head, "that's... that's awesome! I'm happy for you."

"Don't be," you smile sadly.

"Why?"

You shurg, "you don’t have to be happy for me. I’m happy for me. He's a friend of Bokuto-San's. Set us up not long after we broke up." Then, you sigh shakily, "I'm just here for work, I won't taint your coffee shops for much longer." It was an attempt to break up the heavy silence.

He could puke right now if he didn't feel completely defeated. He could strangle Bokuto in devastation.

In his younger, naïve efforts to drive you away, he drove you straight to someone else's arms.

He nods and chokes out a small "alright," before spinning on his heel away from you

He makes move to leave the coffee shop, but before he does, but before he can, he turns back to face you, trying to get one final look at you, soaking in your presence and soul before you vanish from his life forever. He calls your name, and you look at him one more time with that big, beautiful gaze.

"Do you believe in the one that got away?" he asks, and you process his answer before slipping your computer in your bag.

"Yeah. And I believe I'm yours- but you were too worried about losing volleyball. Now, I guess we all got what we wanted."

His veins turn icy as he tries to blink back the hot tears searing his waterline, turning his head to dodge your knowing eyes.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Except for his broken heart, of course.

[differenteagletragedy]

swap au: the boy across the street is Baxter, the boy who lives far away but is still your friend is Cove, and the boy who comes for but one summer is Derek.

When I tell you the powerful and immediate urge I had to rewrite the entire dang game with this ... this is so much fun, thank you!!!

You could hear the new neighbors moving in at your spot behind your house. You'd thought about taking a peek to see what kind of people they were like, but decided to stay out of the way, watching clouds on the poppy hill instead. With how nosy your moms had been after the "for sale" sign disappeared, you'd be learning about them soon enough.

After a while, the clouds stopped holding your attention and you stood, looking for a new activity. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the shore -- there was always something to do there.

When you arrived, the typically empty beach wasn't quite as empty as it usually was. Up near the path, away from the water but still on the sand, was a boy. He looked to be your age, maybe a little older. He hadn't heard you approach, and was instead staring straight ahead at the ocean.

"Hi," you said, and you quickly broke whatever spell he was under. "I haven't seen you around before."

"That would be because I just moved here," he said. He pulled on the hem of his shirt, then smiled at you, extending a hand. "My name is Baxter Ward."

At the time, you thought it was weirdly formal, something grown-ups did to greet each other, not kids. But over time, as you got to know him and all his quirks, you looked back at the moment fondly.

That summer, he became your best friend.

You took to each other immediately, and if you had it your way you would've have spent every waking minute together. Sometimes Baxter couldn't hang out though -- he didn't talk about it much, but he seemed sad sometimes when he talked about his parents, and the few times you spoke with them you got the feeling they didn't like you very much.

But Baxter, as oddly formal as he was, wasn't afraid to break rules. And after a meeting between his parents and yours that didn't seem to go so well, your moms were quick to welcome him whenever he wanted to come over. You were able to get close.

By the time the summer was over, you could hardly remember what life was like before he came into it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five years later, you were 13, and Baxter was still your best friend. He went to a private school while you went to the public one, and from what little he told you about it, he didn't really have friends there. It was a boring place to be, he told you, and he'd much rather be spending time with you than with those spoiled rich kids.

He never bothered noting that he was also a spoiled rich kid.

One day, the two of you were in your bedroom, wasting away a day together. He was lying comfortably on your bed and you were sitting at the foot of it, leaned against the window he regularly used for secret visits -- when he didn't want to hear his parents complain about him spending so much time with you, he found it easier to just slip away unnoticed.

"There's a boy coming over today," he mentioned, ending a comfortable silence. "I think you'll find him interesting."

"If you think he's interesting, then I'm officially scared," you teased.

He smirked in response. He was proud.

Over the past few months, Baxter had started getting more experimental with his fashion. He'd always dressed a bit preppy, and that hadn't changed much, but now he was moving towards clothes that were only black and white. He'd shown you a few more alternative pieces he'd ordered, things that matched the color scheme but were a little more out there, but he hadn't had the nerve to wear them out yet.

"He's the son of a business partner of my father's," he explained of the mystery boy. "I've met him a few times before, he's very shy."

"Then why do you think I'll think he's interesting?" you asked.

"He's also very cute."

You blushed, and he laughed.

You'd had a crush on him for a while, and you couldn't tell if he knew, or if he might like you back, but it was certainly clear that he enjoyed teasing you about anything even remotely related to dating. It always flustered you, but he enjoyed that, too.

He opened his mouth to say anything else, but before he could, the door to your room opened and Liz popped her head in.

"Some kid is at the door asking for you," she told Baxter. "I didn't realize you'd officially moved in."

"Thank you for the warm welcome, sis," he said easily, then stood and looked at you.

"Let's go," he said. "That would be the boy of the hour."

He held out a hand to help you off the bed, and, blushing again, you took it. There was that smirk again, but this time he chose to let it go.

When you went downstairs and to the door, you saw the boy had retreated back towards the street, looking uncomfortable. He was tall and gangly with bright green hair and glasses, and Baxter had been right -- he was cute.

"Cove!" your friend called out brightly, leading you over for an introduction. The boy, Cove, held up his hand in a slight wave. He was nervous.

But as awkward as Cove was, he managed to work his way into your cozy little friend group of two, turning it into a trio.

At one point during the summer, you and Cove had exchanged phone numbers. His father -- his parents were divorced and he lived in another neighborhood with his dad -- was much more easygoing than Baxter's parents, so you were able to visit him quite a bit.

You were even invited over for a sleepover, which Baxter had been surprised about. He'd reacted strangely when you told him about it, it seemed -- you weren't sure if he was upset that his parents had never let you stay over, or if it was something about you getting close to Cove. But in the end, he'd put on his old friendly smile and told you to have fun.

When your moms dropped you off at Cove's house, he greeted you at the door and invited you in, as awkward as the day you had met.

"It was my dad's idea, to ask you to stay over," he explained as you made your way to his room to hang out. "Not that I don't want you to stay over! It was just his idea is all."

"Why would he want me to stay over?" you asked.

He turned to face you as you came to a stop in his bedroom, but he kept his eyes down. He started rubbing his arm, a nervous tick you'd picked up on pretty quickly.

"I don't ... I mean, I don't really have many friends, I guess," he said. "My dad wants me to have more. I think he worries about it."

"Why didn't you ask Baxter?"

"My dad doesn't like his dad," he said.

That made sense to you. You didn't like Baxter's dad either.

Cove didn't live in your neighborhood, but he still lived near a beach. You walked there together and spent most of the evening there, and when you went back, his dad had cooked you dinner.

Throughout the day, he had loosened up, but when it was time for bed, he started getting shy again. His father had laid out two sleeping bags side by side on the living room floor, and after you both got into them, he didn't say a word.

"Cove?" you asked.

He didn't say anything. You turned to face him, sure he hadn't been able to fall asleep that quickly. In the faint light coming in from the kitchen, you saw his eyes wide open, and maybe a tiny bit of color on his cheeks.

"Are you all right?"

He turned his head toward you slightly, not enough to make eye contact, and said, "Yeah."

It wasn't very convincing.

It was your turn to stay quiet -- you weren't sure what to say. Then, without further prompting, he turned to face you too. He met your eyes.

"I get nervous around you," he said plainly. "More than other people. That's why I don't say stuff sometimes."

"Oh," you replied. Then, "Why?"

He shrugged, a decidedly non-romantic gesture, but it still tugged at your heartstrings.

He ended up changing the subject, and you laid there together for a long time, whispering about what you'd done that day and what you wanted to do tomorrow, what you wanted to do with your lives. It was nice, and when you finally fell asleep, you thought maybe you could see Cove being in your life for a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five more years went by, and more big changes came with them.

Baxter was your best friend and still your neighbor -- for the time being. You'd graduated high school and were now adults, and you knew he was desperate to get out of his parents' home.

Cove was still important to you, though you'd been seeing him less and less. His father had cut professional ties with Baxter's, and there was a bit of bad blood there. He'd also decided he wanted to go to college to study marine biology, which was no big surprise, but it did mean that a lot of his free time went to studying.

You weren't sure what exactly you wanted to do, but at the beginning of the summer, an opportunity for a quick adventure before diving into real adulthood presented itself, almost literally on your doorstep.

Gossip spread easily in Sunset Bird, and your moms had heard that the newly vacant condo next door to Baxter's house had been rented. They were eager to see who was coming into the neighborhood, but because they had to leave for work before anything happened, they asked you and Baxter, who was almost always over, to keep an eye out.

Baxter agreed before you could say anything. He'd always done anything your moms asked. You thought it was because he was thankful that they'd unofficially adopted him as their third child.

The two of you settled outside on your front step, waiting and chatting idly about some nonsense he'd made up about who the new neighbor would be. He was really getting into the details when a cab pulled up across the street, and a guy who looked to be about your age stepped out.

"This is not what I expected," Baxter whispered to you before letting his mouth hang open.

You watched as the newest resident of your tiny town moved to the back of the car, opening the trunk and easily pulling out a suitcase. He was all muscles and tan skin and had such a big smile as he tipped the driver. The cab left, and the stranger must have felt your eyes on him, because he turned to you then and smiled even wider.

"Hey, neighbors!" he called out, sounding as friendly as he looked. He started making his way over, and you saw bright green eyes twinkling at you.

Baxter stood, sticking his hand out to help you up. You took it, and he used his other hand to smooth his black and white hair.

"My name's Derek," the guy said holding out a hand to you the same way Baxter had when you first met him ten years before. You shook it, and he smiled directly at you before moving to shake your friend's hand as well.

You and Baxter introduced yourselves, then Baxter asked, "So, Derek, what brings you into our tiny neck of the woods?"

"I'm on vacation," he answered. "Well, kind of. I play college soccer, and there's a coach in the city that's really good, I'm going to work with him this summer. My parents wanted me to have an actual vacation too though, so ..."

He finished his thought by gesturing to his condo.

"I see," Baxter said, and you could hear it in his voice already -- he was turning the charm on. "Well, you know what they say about all work and no play. If you ever feel the need to play, don't hesitate to find us."

Ten years of friendship, and Baxter could still make you blush. If Derek was taken aback by his forwardness, he didn't show it -- instead, he laughed openly.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. You thought you saw him sneak a glance at you as his smile turned smaller, but you weren't sure.

You learned quickly that Derek was serious about his work. He left for long stretches to go into the city for his private training, and you frequently saw him out for runs around the neighborhood.

But he also, it seemed, had taken a liking to you.

One evening, he knocked on your door. You were home alone, so naturally you were the one to answer, and he was there, as always, with a big grin on his face.

"Hey!" he said. "I totally get if you have plans, but if not I thought I'd come check to see if you wanted to hang out?"

"I'm free," you told him.

"Cool. Do you wanna come over?"

When you paused, he quickly continued, telling you, "Oh no, I'm not ... I'm not trying to ... do you like video games?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting next to Derek on his couch, starting up a game of MarioKart.

His composure regained, he said, "I hope you know I'm not going to take it easy on you."

"Why would I think you'd take it easy on me?" you laughed, looking at the tv to choose your character.

"Pretty people always think they can get their way."

That stopped you in your tracks. You glanced over at him, and he was smiling at you.

"You would know," you replied, trying to return the compliment.

As you played, you both found little ways to get closer to each other. Once he scooted over to show you which button to press to do a certain move, and soon after you'd done the same, pretending like you'd forgotten.

After a particularly intense race, it happened -- you finally beat Derek. He'd stayed true to his word and hadn't taken it easy on you, beating you time after time, but now, you'd bested him.

You stood up enthusiastically, cheering for yourself, and ever the gentleman, he stood up as well to cheer along with you.

The next thing you knew, he had his strong arms around your waist, and yours had gone up around his neck. He leaned in a bit, then paused.

"I like you," he said softly, "and I think it would be nice to kiss you. But I'm going back to college in a couple of months, and --"

"A couple of months is enough for me," you told him.

He smiled again, then kissed you. It was gentle and sweet, and over far too soon.

"I'm thinking I should probably make a little bit more time this summer for playing," he said, giving you a smirk that could almost rival Baxter's.

[n1ghtfurys]

Cream II

Okay so this is the second part to when you met Keegan at a party? A whole one person asked so I'm going to make this a thing. Also don't hate me I'm gonna do another one...probably.

Part I: Cream

You haven't been able to look him in the eye since the party, most of the time when you see him you walk immediately in the opposite direction. One time, when you were with your friend, you audibly squeaked. She still hasn't let you live that one down. His behaviour hasn't changed at all, not that you've been around him enough to tell but still.

Guys normally go for your friend. She likes to pretend otherwise but you've always got people asking about her and yeah, the free drinks are great but they aren't usually directed at you. Not that you mind, peace and quiet is nice and there are so many guys that are so far up their own asses you're shocked they can still see.

Regardless you've been in hiding, you feel like he's everywhere. Obviously he's around because you live in the same building but you find yourself noticing him more, you think he's been trying to talk to you too. Most of the time he doesn't catch you but every so often it looks like he's gonna, luckily that has yet to happen.

Honestly you're shocked he's been here so long, usually he stays at the base and he's deployed a lot, like more often than not. You've been putting off laundry on the off chance that he happens to be down at the same time as you. Only because it would trap you down there with him and you still haven't gotten over the party. The picture of him on his knees in front of you, his mouth open, is one that lives with you. Comes to the front of your mind at night when you're tossing and turning and usually ends in something you aren't really proud of.

You can't put it off anymore though, you're running out of clothes. You spent all day today wandering around in weirdly tight grey sweats and a frankly, very ugly top with a red dragon on, that you had stolen from an ex. It's a truly interesting look, one that has left you comfortable and uncomfortable. The sweats cling to you in so many places and none of them are great, you don't really like how they sit on your hips or how they somehow flatten your ass but the top is on the bigger side so mostly hides that.

You decide to bite the bullet, another mismatched outfit of ill fitting clothes and pieces stolen from various ex’s is not really how you want your week to look. And you can be quick, in and out. No chances of an awkward encounter that just ends with you retreating to the safety of your room, probably never to leave again.

You have never liked the laundry room. The landlord hasn't bothered painting the walls so there is only water stained concrete and cobwebs for decoration, if you're honest it's dingy and always smells dusty despite the detergent people use on their clothes. It's also always warm down here, you hate that, It's like being wrapped in a warm, damp blanket. The dryers sometimes eat your socks too and at least half of the machines are out of order.

It's not like your building is particularly bad, sure some of the halls have cracked paint and one of the doors into the building is held together with duct tape but it's really not a bad building.

It's empty when you get down though, much to your delight because you don't have to deal with any polite small talk about weather or neighbourhood changes. As much as you like the older citizens in your building they can be quite boring to talk to. Plus it gives you some time to read, the book is truly subpar but it's entertaining and music makes it slightly more bearable. So once you've put the clothes on you perch on one of the machines that don't work and hope nobody else comes in.

Of course your luck is never that good and the door opens pretty much as soon as you settle on the cool metal of the dryer. You don't look up, mostly because if you pretend you haven't noticed them, they can't start a conversation but also if you look up and he's standing there you're going to curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment.

Your plan works perfectly until the mystery person pipes up.

“What you reading?” You know the voice without having to look up, of all the people. It had to be him, you know your luck isn't amazing but you didn't think it was that bad.

This would be your que to curl up and die, only you can't ignore him. It's rude and you don't hate him so you make the decision to look up from your book. You, however, immediately regret your decision to do that because why does he look like that? Part of you wishes he could be on his knees in front of you again but that part of you is clearly unstable and is to be ignored at all costs.

You paint a polite smile over your face, in hopes he can't figure out how many times you've come with his name on your lips. You lift up the book to show him, he doesn't really strike you as the reading type so you have no problem showing him and if you show him the cover he might not ask questions. He nods, you think for a moment he's going to ask what it's about but he doesn't. He actually doesn't say anything else, he just goes about his laundry.

You're not entirely sure how you feel about the fact that he didn't continue the conversation, technically you have no reason for it to bother you. Especially since you didn't want to talk anyway but something about the fact he says nothing annoys you.

You can't help but watch him, hunched over the machine. The black t-shirt he's wearing has no right being that tight, you can see the muscles in his back whenever he moves and you know all he's doing is loading clothes into a washing machine but god his arms.

He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up, you meet his eyes before you avert them quickly back to your book because that was mortifying. Seriously it's just a guy in a black t-shirt and you're basically drooling over him, god you're better than this. You swear you hear him chuckle which serves to both annoy and embarrass you.

The chime of your cycle being over literally cannot come fast enough. You have never unloaded one of those machines faster, you grab what you think is all of your shit and basically run up the stairs because anything is better than being in a room with him in his stupid sexy t-shirt with his dumb muscles and deep voice.

You retreat to the familiar safety of your room for the rest of the day, stress reading your book to get past the awfulness of that encounter.

That is until you hear the front door open, obviously since you have a roommate you think nothing of it until you hear said roommate call you to the door, because today couldn't get any worse. You go to the door, expecting a delivery or a salesman she needs you to get rid of but obviously you're not that lucky because the universe must hate you.

Standing at the door is, of course, Keegan because who else would be at your door? What could he possibly want? He doesn't seem like the type of guy to make fun of people, let alone seek someone out to do so.

You make your way to the door, which is arguably the last place you want to be right now. As you pass your friend she punches you like this is a good thing because you may or may not have told her what happened at the party and she's very, very set on getting you laid. That's not what's going to happen though.

You stand in the doorway and watch as his eyes drift slowly down your body, when he meets your eyes again you can tell that he's smirking, not that you can see his mouth but you know.

“You left everything but your glass slippers, princess.” He holds out the detergents you had taken down there with you.

“Oh” really, you know that you should use more words than that, because you do know more words than that or you think you do. Right now it doesn't matter because you're trying to will your brain to pick between saying thanks and sorry.

“Sonks” clearly you are not stronger willed than your brain. You take the bottles from his, still, outstretched hands while hoping that a you-sized sinkhole would appear beneath you.

“Thanks, and sorry for making you come all the way up here. Bye.” he barely has a chance to answer before you're shutting the door.

You put the detergent on the kitchen counter and then proceed to put your head there too because what the fuck was that? A one way ticket to forever being the one girl that can't even talk. You then start to realise how rude it was to slam the door essentially on his face when he was being nice and then you feel even worse about everything.

Not much you can do about it now anyway so you put the detergents away because this day couldn't get any worse. If you weren't hiding in your room before, you are now. Forever. Unless you're called out by your friend or need to cook so that she doesn't burn down the apartment. You like your room anyway, so big deal, and you can probably get enough sunlight from the windows not to get a vitamin D deficiency and if not there's always supplements.

“Honey!” your best friend and roommate has taken to calling you that, usually when she gets home from work but it's kinda just stuck. “Whose number is on the fabric softener?”

Before you really have time to move, she's bursting into your room, as she does.

“Bet it's his.” she has also already taken your phone which you now regret giving her the password to. Luckily your brain catches up before she sends a message that starts with ‘hey sexy’

You forget for a moment that the world hates you and everything sucks because you in fact don't delete the message, instead you manage to press send, like an idiot but it's fine. Maybe he doesn't use his phone at all, or maybe it fell out of his pocket down a flight of stairs or maybe he broke his neck.

Clearly not because he reads it before you have the good sense to delete it. Clearly, all that can be learnt from today is that luck doesn't exist and everything sucks and you're never gonna end up in bed with this man, ever.

[jovialoddity]

Just a random question, what headcannons do you have of Human Puzzles that you'd love to tell us , but didnt? I'm loving the headcannons you have for him, and I would like to know a bit more

Oh i ABSOLUTELY do!! I’m almost constantly thinking about new Mr Puzzles headcannons (both for canon and for my human AU) so I would love to share some! I’m super happy that people wanna hear them too 🥹

Ok so a couple of them are:

He is incredibly proud of the fact that he isn’t balding (yet). Aside from his receding hairline, he’s still got all his hair and it’s in really good condition. He will NOT stop bragging about this.

SPEAKING OF HIS HAIR - he has two VERY stubborn pieces of hair on the back of his head that are just always standing up weirdly. They somewhat resemble his canon antennae. He hides them with his hat most of the time since they’re immune to being brushed.

He likes his popcorn HORRIFICALLY salty. The average person would shrivel if they tried to eat the kind of popcorn he makes.

His hearing has been slowly getting worse and worse over the years, but he refuses to admit there’s anything wrong or go to the doctors about it.

Doesn’t own a bed. He just sleeps on the couch in his living room. He could afford a bed if he wanted one, but he just likes the couch.

He does Not trust doctors. At all. Especially not Ophthalmologists.

He tends to lose his appetite when he’s especially stressed or in a bad state.

His left eyebrow has always been a little wonky, but he tried plucking it to make it look a little more straight when he was around 5 years old, and he fucked it up BADLY. The hairs never grew back correctly. He still cries when he looks back at that moment.

[north-noire]

Bad Sketch comic. Of the Mike's. For the silly's. (And because I was too sick to do anything else today.)

Hope you like it! :3 (Inferno Mike immediately assumes that because you're Mike is alive and like well looking that he probably didn't kill his brother. And of course Inferno Mike wouldn't Help his dad so it's in his opinion a very funny joke to imply HH Mike would.)

I LOVE THE IMAGERY IN THIS SO MUCH IT'S AMAZING KSEKDMSKSO I'M SO FERAL ABT IT!!!! AHHHHHH, LIKE THE SMOKE SHOWING INFERNO MIKE'S FACE??? AND THE FOX TEETH OHHHH MY GOD

SORRY THAT I TOOK MONTHS TO REPLY TO THIS i was gonna draw a comic for this but instead the writing bug bit me so have this, the narrative refers to Inferno! Mike as "the other Mike" :)

---

Michael didn't know what to say to the other, scooped, purple Mike. He was almost speechless -- his lips quivering with anticipation.

"I-I can't tell if you're joking or what," He said, his body tensing up in his seat. Oh god, he's so bad at this. He nervously clicked his tongue. "But no."

The other Mike looked confused, taking a whiff of his cigarette first before he spoke. "Sorry?"

"You're wrong," Michael blurted out, shaking his head. He didn't mean for it to come off too harshly, but the emotion carried him away. "I still killed my little brother, and I'm not proud of that. I'll never be. I still, somehow, helped my dad do awful things and thought he wouldn't do anything wrong at all. I fought for his 'innocence'. I'm no better. I'm just as bad as he was."

He sighed. "I still miss him, my little brother Evan. Everyday, I wish I could've changed something about that event. Wishing to punch myself into oblivion, hoping it would fix it. But that's just wishful thinking at this point."

The other Mike -- listening attentively -- was speechless, hearing the other man he thought would've been a better man than he was, saying things out loud like that to him.

He paused, letting the cheap cigarette in his hand burn to a crisp. "So... we're not too different, after all."

"...yeah." Michael softly responded, blankly staring at the ground beneath them. "I wish you never had to go through what you had to go through, though. I think you deserve to be alive, too. Well, at least... not have to suffer for it."

"There's probably a reason why you got out of it in one piece, then." The other Mike said, throwing the cigarette butt to the ground and stomping on it with his shoe.

Michael couldn't help but let out a snort, his body finally feeling much looser. "Dumb luck, I'd say."

"At least you get to look cool on Halloween, I guess," He lightly joked, but part of him felt bad for it. "Sorry, horrible joke, I know."

The other Mike chuckled back. "Funny you say that, considering that's probably my favorite day of the year. A day where I don't get looked at weirdly for the twentieth time."

"That, and I get free candy and gum. Which is nice." He added.

"It's not too much work trying to get around, is it?" Michael sadly looked at him.

"Yeah. Even though I feel like with one wrong move, my bones and skin are going to rattle and fall apart, at some point you just... Get used to it, I guess." The other Mike said, shrugging his shoulders. "Not like I have anything better to do with my fucked up life, right?"

"...yeah." Michael said, finding himself staring at the ground again. "I think you're a very resilient person, Mike. Or Michael. Whatever works."

He continued after he softly chuckled. "The fact that you continue to go on, despite everything going against you, it's... commendable. I know you probably hate yourself, and I... understand that. But the fact that you choose to continue marching on, continue to try and live and fix everything, it's... I really can't help but admire you for what it's worth."

"Ha, you flatter me too much when I'm just some rotting corpse walking around here." The other Mike let out a chuckle, his wide, rotting grin curling around his mouth.

"I'm being honest!" Michael insisted, smiling awkwardly. "For what it's worth, it's nice knowing someone that knows what it's like to have circumstances as... absurd as ours."

"Yeah. It's a nice thought." The other Mike nodded along, his voice softened as he stared to the ground.

[diamonddaze01]

⋆｡°✩ n o t e : thank you to everyone who tagged me in this ( @sungbeam , @petrichor-han , @haologram)! took me forever to finally get around to it, but excited to share my wrapped for this year!

⋆｡°✩ on poetry and homecomings - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first ever fic! based on a quote by the fantastic palestinian poet mahmoud darwish. something about the words, "If I ever see a flaw of yours, I'd say my eyes are the flawed ones" made something in my heart twinge in the most beautiful way. a purely self indulgent fic i wrote after an exhausting work week, and suddenly, here we are, 3 months later.

⋆｡°✩ plan b-day - hong jisoo

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my last fic of 2024! a lil drabble for the loveliest boy. no real notes on this, other than i am sure that murphy's law somehow targets me 50000x more than the average human being. again, purely self-indulgent, but also a wonderful way to close out the year.

⋆｡°✩ baby, darling, light of my entire life - choi seungcheol

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : the idea for this came to me after a crazy night out. though i myself have not gotten to this level of drunk yet, i definitely would scream about how pretty choi seungcheol is any day, any time. i was actually shocked when this blew up - it wasn't my favorite piece i'd written at the time, and i woke up one morning and it had skyrocketed from maybe 100 notes to upwards of 600 in one night. weirdly, i think this was maybe the third thing i had ever posted to this blog and it made me so happy that people actually enjoyed my writing. bdlomel, ily <3

⋆｡°✩ full throttle part i | full throttle part ii - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : oh, full throttle, what to say about you (i am combining both parts into one fic - the only reason there are two parts is bc tumblr is a bitch about formatting). there are few things that exhausted me, exhilerated me, enraged me, and made me feel as proud as i do looking at this finished fic. three weeks of non-stop writing every day after work, jotting down notes in the cleanroom and during lunch breaks, and storyboarding when i should have been sleeping culminated in most possibly the pièce de résistance of my year. i had so many people who cheered me on as i wrote this fic, battled through witty banter (that i myself could never say irl) and fiery headlines, but none cheered as loudly as @haologram and @ylangelegy. alta and kae were genuinely the wind beneath my wings as i wrote this, and reading their comments in the doc was what kept me going. in the end, i'm genuinely so happy with how full throttle turned out, and seeing the reactions i'm getting from it make me feel so fulfilled.

⋆｡°✩ the somerset affair - lee seokmin

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first forray into longer fic writing (and i'm still battling my way through it, but we don't talk about that). if anyone knows me, they know how much of a Bridgerton fan i am - i quote anthony's speech on the daily, and penelope/eloise are some of my fav romcom heroines ever written (until they both get married, but again, we don't talk about that). i felt like writing this fic was my way to pay homage to this fictional world i adore so much. i have a love/hate relationship with the actual tone of the series - its so hard to maintain the regency tone and also write in a way that's true to my own voice, but at the end of the day it's a challenge i relish. i'm so excited to finish this series this coming year!

⋆｡°✩ 40 fics posted - check them all out in my masterlist!

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : to be fair, a lot of these are drabbles i did for my 101 drabble prompt game, but fuck it we ball. maybe i'm just insane.

⋆｡°✩ ~133,470 words written

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : again, i think i might be a bit insane. did a sacrifice sleep to write? yes. did i storyboard at work? also yes. but then again, it's been an interesting year to say the least, and writing was a really good way to blow off steam after a stressful day at work.

⋆｡°✩ some of my fav fics i read this year - please read the warnings on each fic and do not interact with smut if you're a minor! this is in no particular order:

⋆｡°✩ unforgiven [boo seungkwan] - @haologram ⋆｡°✩ catch you when i can [smau] [chwe hansol] - @xinganhao ⋆｡°✩ the first snow [hong jisoo] - @junkissed ⋆｡°✩ what are the vibes? [choi seungcheol] - @daechwitatamic ⋆｡°✩ red card [kim mingyu] - @highvern ⋆｡°✩ an ode to hands and voice [boo seungkwan] - @ddeonghwa-s ⋆｡°✩ take my word for it [yoon jeonghan] - @ylangelegy ⋆｡°✩ prey [choi seungcheol] - @pochaccoups ⋆｡°✩ sit down [kim mingyu] - @gyuswhore ⋆｡°✩ ave, general [lee jihoon] - @amourcheol

these are just a few of my fav fics i've read, but if you want to see all my recommendations - i suggest checking out @diamond-reads !

⋆｡°✩ goals for 2025

⋆｡°✩ on diamonddaze01: i have a lot of collabs coming up in 2025! i hope that i can meet all those deadlines and write things i'm proud of. i've also learned that writing longer fics like full throttle or somerset affair make me feel more fulfilled as a writer, so expect a lot more of them as i further explore my writing style and characterization. i also want to go back to some of my older wips that i abandoned and reopen them, see where i can go with a fresh mindset. ⋆｡°✩ personal goals: i have a lot, but to name a few: read more, laugh more, love more. i also want to focus on establishing a better work/life balance - i know already that the coming months are going to suck at work, but i no longer want to drag the weight of corporate life home with me. work is work, and that's where it will stay. i want to prioritize my mental and physical well-being over all else, and that starts with reprioritizing things like work, my social life, and writing.

⋆｡°✩ final thoughts

⋆｡°✩ i started writing on tumblr because i was stressed from work and felt like i didn't have a community, especially at a new job and a new city. what started as some stress relief turned into a community of its own. i'm eternally grateful that i was able to meet some wonderful people this year that i truly feel a sense of belonging with. to everyone in the networks i'm in, to anyone that reads my work, to all the lovely people i've met: thank you, and i love you.

⋆｡°✩ if you've made it this far, thanks for reading, and thank you for all your support. i love you all endlessly. it's time to sign off for 2024.

with love as vast as the stars themselves, tara <3

⋆｡°✩ tagging (but no pressure): @tusswrites, @chanranghaeys, @bitchlessdino, @ddeonghwa-s , @c-oupsie, @lovetaroandtaemin, and anyone else who would like to do this!

[thlayli-ra]

Stole this from @stripeydani - Happy New Year bestie! Lang may yer lum reek!

2024: My Year in Writing

2024 Summary

Words Written - 292,392 words

Fics Published -

The Moon Rises Red Tonight - Vampire AU, AJ Lee/CM Punk/LA Knight/ Finn Balor. My weird little baby that was meant to be just straight up smut with my favourites yet kinda turned into this angsty piece involving a trauma flashback-inducing vagina so... yeah...

Would You Offer Your Throat to the Wolf? - Hunter/Prey AU. CM Punk/Drew McIntyre. Literally the second Punkintyre fic on AO3 and my first full foray into Dead Dove horror. It is entirely to blame for my writing taking a drastic turn into the unhinged and I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or not. 😅

The Chain - Soulmate AU. CM Punk/Drew McIntyre. I'm still really proud of this twisted little ficlet. So far, it's the only time I've written in first person POV.

Stray - Stray AU. CM Punk/Drew McIntyre. Part fluff, part angst, it tells the story of two broken souls helping to mend one another. And Drew in a muzzle.

Losers pray for things to happen; winners make things happen! - Winner's Room AU. CM Punk/Drew McIntyre. A silly ficlet I wrote after Clash at the Castle that inadvertently launched a whole entire au, in which Gunther has a pet play kink. One of my most successful fics. More will follow, I assure you!

Thlayli's Trick or Treat Ficlets - Various. A collection of request ficlets I did for my Trick or Treat event in October. I had so much fun working with all of your requests and got to flex my writing abilities a bit. However, it did spawn the Alien Breeding fic so there's that...

A Sinner at Heart - Valetverse AU. LA Knight/Nick Aldis. A huge thank you to Dani @stripeydani for prompting this pairing. They're so much fun to write and I plan to add more to this fic next year! (They're so fucking!)

Out of the Ashes - Post-Apocalyptic AU. CM Punk/AJ Lee, various. Finally got the sequel to Scorched Earth back up and running after a long slump.

'Acknowledge Me' - Winner's Room AU, LA Knight/Roman Reigns. Technically the first winner's room fic I wrote but it got stuck in WIP hell until last month. Nasty little piece where neither man comes off better.

My Favourite Fic - Oooooh! That's tricky. It's a close-call between Red Moon, the hunter/prey au and Stray but if I had to choose, it would be Stray. Mainly because it all started off as an interesting concept that popped into my head one morning and evolved with each chapter into a beautiful character study of love and loss. I especially enjoyed writing Divorced!JoePunk and capturing their complicated feelings towards one another.

My Most Written Pairing - Isn't it obvious? It's been the year of Punkintyre. They infested my brain and consumed me entirely (they're both lingering in there still, I just need to get over the holiday season for some time to write/draw)

My Most Used Tags - 'Rape/Non-Con Elements' - I mean, I'm bad enough with this tag anyway but Punkintyre made it all so much worse! 'Anal Sex' - they're all fucking each other (when they're not murdering one another in the woods of course!). 'Past Abuse' - one must have past trauma in order for a tattooed man to heal them, right?

What I learned - That all my readers are freaks (in the most affectionate way possible!) But seriously, this was a revelation - after the Hunter/Prey AU, I allowed myself to write darker, more explicit fics and it has been weirdly liberating. Like writing all the darkness out of me and embracing it in a safe way.

What I want to write next year- Sooooo much! So far, the WIP list looks like this;

- Complete Out of the Ashes

- Part 2 to the Alien Breeding/Experiment AU fic

- The Valets of WWE; Modern Era (first chapter in progress)

- More LA Knight/Nick Aldis fics

- LA Knight/Shinsuke Nakamura, Winner's Room fic

- Red Moon off-shoot featuring Punkintyre (based on an idea proposed by @selamat-linting )

- A little ficlet/art piece based off of my good friend @elementaldoughnut12 's Stripper AU

- Several ficlet requests I have on stand-by in my askbox (requests are always appreciated btw so feel free to send any in)

- Part three of Flint and Steel (one can dream!)

- Not to mention any inspiration that comes my way during Wrestlemania season (keeping all my fingers and toes crossed for a Punk/Gunther feud!!!)

[lousypotatoes]

Because A Group Does It Better

"You open the door

Wearing nothing but a smile down to the floor

And you whisper in my ear 'Baby I'm yours'

Ooh, just the thought of you, gets me so high~"

Want To Want Me - Jason Derulo

Previous

Next

Dear Mom and Dad I'm doing fine

You guys are on my mind

You asked me what I wanted to be

But now I think the answer is plain to see

I wanna be famous

I wanna live close to the sun

So pack your bags 'cause I've already won

Everything to prove, nothing in my way

I'll get there one day

I wanna be famous

Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna famous

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous~

It was still the night from the last challenge, The Killer Bass were now surrounded around a campfire, too tired to do anything else, but too depressed to go to bed.

They had only won two challenges even though they competed in five. It made the the whole team feel down. Did they really suck that bad?

Y/N sat on a trunk next to Duncan, her head in her hands. She wondered what he dad thought of her. She wondered how he was doing. Was he eating healthy? Was he drinking enough water? Was he being taken care of? Was he proud of her?

Y/N wanted to go home.

The sound of obnoxious crying made Y/N turn her head around, seeing Bridgette holding a crying Sadie's hand, guiding her to sit with everyone else around the fire. Sadie continued to sob, tears and snot leaking down her face, she hugged a piece of wood and held it close to her.

"It was a long goodbye," Bridgette said.

The sound of more people coming towards made Y/N inwardly groan. She already knew who it was. "What do you guys want?" Courtney sneered. "Come by to rub it in?"

"We got some extra dessert after out tuck shop party," Trent smiled. Y/N saw that Beth was holding up a platter of green jello with a gummy worm in it. "Thought you might want some."

"That's weirdly nice," Y/N remarked, eyeing the team with suspicion.

"Okay, Owen stunk up our cabin and we need some time to air out," Gwen said, rolling her eyes over to Owen, who farted silently.

"Oh, dude," Trent said in disgust.

Beth walked over the Courtney, holding up the jello to offer it to her. "No!" Courtney said quickly, a freaked out look on her face. "I mean, no thanks."

"What, are you on a diet or something?" Duncan asked.

"No! I just don't like green jelly, okay?" Courtney snapped, crossing her arms.

Beth shrugged, walking over to DJ, Duncan, and Y/N, offering them the jello instead. "No thanks, I'm good," Y/N said. Instead of saying something, DJ screamed, "Snake!" and knocked the platter out of Beth's hands, the jello all over the ground.

"Chill dude, it's just a gummy worm," Cody said, holding up the gummy worm.

"Sorry for trippin'," DJ sighed. "Snakes just freak me out."

"I feel you," Tyler said, patting DJ on the back. "Chickens give me the creeps, dude."

"You're afraid of chickens?" Gwen asked.

"Wow, that's, that's really lame man," Duncan laughed.

~Confessionals~ "So suddenly, everyone's having this big share fest by the fire," Gwen said. "Like Beth went on and on about how her mortal fear is being covered by bugs, Harold's afraid of ninjas, even Heather admitted she's afraid of sumo wrestlers."

--

"What's my worst fear?" Gwen shivered. "I guess being buried alive."

"Walking through a minefield. In heels," Lindsay said shakily.

"Flying, man," Owen admitted. "That's some crazy stuff."

"I would never go up in a plane! Never!" Izzy chimed in.

"I'm scared of hail," Geoff said. "It's small but deadly, dude."

"Being left alone in the woods," Bridgette said, looking down.

"Bad haircuts," Sadie said tearfully. "Oh, okay! I changed mine!" Lindsay said. "That's so much scarier than a minefield!"

Cody had to think about it before giving her answer. "Having to diffuse a time bomb under pressure."

"Open areas of water," Y/N bit her tongue. "Like lakes and oceans."

"I'm not really afraid of anything," Courtney said proudly.

"Bullshit," Duncan said, disguising it with a cough.

"Oh really?" Courtney said. "Well what exactly is your phobia?"

Everyone around the campfire looked at Duncan, curious to see what the fearless badass was most afraid of. Even Y/N, who Duncan talked to the most on the island, didn't have a single clue what Duncan was afraid of.

"Celine Dion music store standees," Duncan muttered, his head down. Y/N started giggling uncontrollably, covering her mouth when Duncan glared her, still giggling even though her hand was covering her mouth. "Not funny," he glared. "Oh yes it is," Y/N laughed.

"Exsqueeze me?" Cody smirked. "I didn't quite get that."

"Dude, did you say Celine Dion music store standees?" Trent asked. Duncan hid his face in his hands, embarrassed that everyone was laughing at him.

"Ooh! I love Celine Dion!" Lindsay squealed, before a look of confusion appeared on her face. "What's a standee?"

"It's the cardboard cutout that stands either outside in the inside the music store," Y/N explained, still slightly giggling.

"Don't say it!" Duncan snapped.

"Kind of like a flat Celine," Y/N smirked.

"So if we had a cardboard standee right now..." Courtney smiled.

"Shut up!" Duncan shouted, covering his face. "What about you, huh?" he pointed to Trent.

"Okay, well I hate mimes," Trent said. "Like a lot, alright." Courtney rolled her eyes.

"Courtney you have to be afraid of something," Y/N said. "Everybody said what they're afraid of. Now it's your turn."

"Nope, nothing," she smirked.

"That's not what she said last night," Duncan whispered to Y/N, Geoff, and DJ.

"Duncan, did you ever consider that maybe I was just humoring you and your lame-o story?" Courtney frowned.

"Sure princess. Whatever floats your boat," Duncan smirked.

"Shut up!" Courtney snapped.

A little bit after that, everyone decided that it was too late, and they decided to head to bed. Y/N said goodnight to her other friends like Gwen, Trent, and Leshawna, and headed off to the Killer Bass cabin. 

It was the next morning, each teams were sitting at their respected table in the mess hall, a bowl of Chef's oatmeal in front of everyone. Chris was at the front of the mess hall, grinning mischievously at all the of the campers.

"Campers, your next challenge is a game I like to call Phobia Factor," Chris said. "Prepare to face your worst fears!"

Y/N immediately froze up, her eyes widening.

"Worse than this?" Leshawna pointed to Chef's disgusting breakfast. "We're in trouble," Gwen said.

"For our first victimes, Heather, meet us all in the theater. It's sumo time!" Heather spit out her tea all over Trent.

"Gwen, you, me, the beach, a few tons of sand?" Gwen gasped and her eyes widened, a scared look on her face.

"Wait, how did they know those were your worst fears?" Lindsay asked.

"Because we told them," Gwen sulked, putting her head on the table. Lindsay still had a confused look on her face. "At the campfire last night," Trent said, patting Gwen on the back.

"Wait! They were listening to us?" Lindsay shrieked, standing up.

"It's a reality show, Einstein," Gwen frowned. "They're always listening to us."

"That's like, eavesdropping!"

"Chef Hatchet, didn't you have a special order for Tyler here today?" Chris asked. Chef, who was frying something up, nodded his head, a malicious smirk on his face. Chef handed Tyler a fried up chicken, Tyler grabbing it with a freaked out look. He hesitantly took a bite. Nothing happened at first, but then a chicken appeared where he took a bite, making him scream loudly.

After that, Chris had everyone gather outside to watch Beth face her fear. What she had to do was jump into a kiddie pool filled with worms. It made Y/N cringe when she imagined all those slimy worms all over her.

Everyone else seemed to think the same thing, everyone had disgusted looks on her faces, DJ even threw up.

Beth didn't seem to have a problem with it, shrugging and jumping into the kiddie pool. Y/N grabbed Duncan's arm when one of the worms was really close to touching her.

"Are you scared of a little worm?" he laughed.

"Oh shut up, you're scared of cardboard cutouts,"

That shut Duncan up real quick.

Beth was at the bottom of the kiddie pool for a few seconds, resurfacing with a big smile on her face, and worms covering her and inside her mouth, earning the Screaming Gophers a point and making Y/N wanting to puke. "And Beth sets the bar way up there," Chris said, making the Screaming Gophers cheer and Owen faint.

Next it was Lindsay and Sadie's turn, the two of them having to wear very ugly wigs. The two of them had very terrified looks on their faces, cringing as Chris very slowly.

Then it was Owen and Izzy's turn, the two of them having to fly up in very poorly looking plane flown by Chef. Y/N watched from the ground as she saw the plane fly, the plane doing all these rolls and flips. It would have been cool to see if the plan didn't look like it was about to fall apart.

It was Harold's turn next. He was in the bathroom when ninjas ambushed him. Obviously Y/N didn't see what happened, but the Chris told their team that Harold knocked himself out with nun chucks. So no point for them. 

 Everyone watched as Leshawna was chased by Chef dressed in a ridiculous spider costumer, Leshawna shrieking and screaming as she was chased. It made Y/N want to laugh, but Leshawna was her friend, so she didn't.

After that, everyone gathered around the outdoor amphitheater, sitting on the bleachers to watch Heather confront  a sumo wrestler. "Oh this is gonna be good," Y/N smirked, watching as Heather shook as she looked at the sumo wrestler. The sumo wrestler came running towards her, an angry look on his face. In response, Heather crouched in fear, the wrestler tripped over her and rolled down the hill, earning the Screaming Gophers their second point.

"It'll be okay, Bridge," Y/N hugged Bridgette before she had to face her fear. Her challenge was she had to spend six hours in solitude in the woods.

"Thanks, Y/N," she said shakily. "I'll be okay, I promise."

After Bridgette walked into the woods, Y/N went to the beach to watch Gwen face her fear. She was in a glass box, and all she had to was stay buried for five minutes.

"There's enough air for an hour, you only need to do five minutes," Trent comforted.

"As long as we decide to dig you up," Chris said, shoveling the sand onto the glass box.

"Not funny, Chris!" Gwen shakily cried, genuinely freaked out.

"Sheesh, take a pill," Chris smirked.

"I'll be listening to whole time," Trent smiled, handing Gwen a walkie talkie. "Just yell for me if you panic and I'll dig you right up."

"Goodbye cruel world," Gwen said as Trent closed the air slot, Chris continued to bury her.

After that it was DJ's turn. Everybody went back to the theater to watch him conquer his fear, which was having to touch a tiny little snake.

"Hey, you can do this buddy!" Duncan cheered.

"Yeah, go DJ!" Y/N hollered.

DJ stood on the stage, shaking and deciding whether he should just do it, or risk losing the challenge for the team. "It blinked!" he screamed, jumping back.

"It means she likes you," Sadie called out.

Courtney rolled her eyes. "It's the smallest snake ever, DJ, come on!"

"Yeah but it's slimy and scaly and slithery-"

"We need this point DJ!" she screamed. "Suck it up!" Y/N rolled her eyes and scowled. She really hated when Courtney acted like this. Everyone else on the team seemed to think the same thing.

"What, we're heading back to Loserville, people," Courtney said.

"Doesn't mean you have to be a bitch about it," Y/N muttered.

"What was that, Y/N?"

"Oh, nothing,"

DJ took a deep breath and with his eyes closed, very slowly picked up the snake with his finger, earning the Killer Bass a point and making everyone cheer.

"See, fear is only in the mind," Courtney said.

Now it was Trent's turn. Trent was supposed to be keeping Gwen company while she was still buried, but got distracted and started running when he saw a mime. "Just talk to him bro! And ask him to go away!" Chris said using a megaphone. "Okay, we've got two minutes before Gwen's done. Cody, you're up."

Chris told everyone else to go back to the campsite while he dealt with Cody. Cody had only ten minutes to diffuse a trash can bomb. If he didn't diffuse the bomb in time, it would explode, garbage going everywhere.

Now it was Duncan's turn. A few feet in front of him was a Celine Dion cardboard cutout. Y/N stood next to a scared and terrified Duncan. "Isn't she pretty?" Y/N asked. "I promise you, she's really nice."

"Just one hug and you're done," Chris snapped his fingers.

"That-that looks really real, man," Duncan stuttered.

"Dude she's made of cardboard!" Tyler shouted. "Get in the game!"

"Hey, you can back out if you want," Y/N smiled, grabbing Duncan's hand. "No one's forcing you yo do anything, besides Courtney. But if you don't want to do this, that okay."

Duncan took a deep breath, blushing a little bit when he realized Y/N was still holding his hand. "All right, I'll try," he said.

"You got this," Y/N grinned.

"Okay, okay," Duncan hyped himself before running towards the cutout with his arms open. With a determined look on his face, he hugged the cardboard cutout, lifting it up in the air, and earning another point. The Killer Bass started cheering and hollering. Y/N had the biggest grin on her face as she walked towards Duncan.

"I did it!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah you did!" Y/N said, the two of them hugging each other. After a second they realized what they were doing, and let each other go, chuckling awkwardly.

"Sorry about that," Y/N coughed.

"Nah, you're fine, it's okay," Duncan said, the two of them looking anywhere else.

"Y/N, it's your turn," Chris said. Shit. "Go change into your swimsuit and be at the beach in five minutes."

Five minutes later, Y/N was standing on the sandy beach in her swimsuit, multiple different thoughts going through her head. Thank God Duncan was going swimming with her, or else she would of quit the challenge before it had even began.

"All right, Y/N. All you need to do is swim around for only fifteen minutes," Chris explained.

"Yeah, yeah I can do this," Y/N shakily said, walking into the cold water. Duncan didn't say anything, walking behind her. 

Y/N walked stiffly toward the edge of the dock. The lake seemed darker up close, like it went on forever underneath. Duncan stepped up beside her, shirt off, tattoos visible under the fading light. Y/N wished she had a little more time to admire his tattoos and lean build.

“You ready?” he asked.

“No.”

“Too bad,” he said, grinning. “Come on. I’ve got you.”

She hesitated, then jumped with him.

The cold smacked her in the chest like a punch. Panic clawed up her throat instantly. Her arms flailed. “Y/N. Hey.” Duncan swam closer, steady hands on her shoulders. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

She clung to him without thinking, eyes wide and gasping. “I can’t—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly. “You’re not sinking. I’m right here.” Slowly, she nodded. Her breathing evened out.

They floated for a bit. She gripped the water like it might turn solid if she tried hard enough.Ten minutes in, she was swimming small laps near the dock. Not graceful, but alive.

“You’re doing better than I expected,” Duncan said, watching her.

She smirked weakly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He swam beside her for a moment, then asked, quietly, “Why are you so scared of this stuff anyway?”

She froze mid-stroke. Water lapped softly around them.

He waited.

Y/N sighed. “When I was six… before my mom left, she was supposed to be watching me at this apartment pool. She said she’d be right back, just going inside to answer the phone. Told me to stay out of the water.”

Duncan stayed silent, eyes on her.

“I didn’t listen. I went in. Slipped on the steps. Went under.”

She glanced away, like she could still taste chlorine in the back of her throat. “I remember the water in my nose. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. Just sinking. Everything felt huge and empty. I honestly thought I was gonna die.”

“Your mom find you?”

“Eventually. I don’t know how long I was under. A neighbor pulled me out.” Her voice turned brittle. “My mom was too busy yelling about me not listening to even realize how scared I was.”

They floated in silence for a moment.

“That’s why I don’t do water,” she finished softly. "If I can’t see the bottom, it’s like… it all comes back.”

Duncan nodded, his face unusually serious. “That’s messed up. But you’re not that kid anymore.”

She met his eyes. “Don’t feel like it.”

“You don’t have to,” he said. “You’re still out here. That counts.”

The buzzer on the dock went off. Chris’s voice echoed across the water. “And that’s fifteen minutes, baby! Phobia faced!” Y/N let out a shaky laugh and swam toward the dock. Duncan followed, climbing up beside her.

He handed her a towel without a word. She took it, hands trembling slightly. “Thanks,” she muttered. “For asking.”

He shrugged. “Thanks for not letting me drown out there.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. You’d cling to me like a leech.”

He grinned. “If it means getting that close to you, maybe.”

She bumped his shoulder with hers, smiling despite herself.

Everyone was beginning to finish their challenges. Gwen got dug up, Lindsay and Sadie got to take off their ugly wigs, and Izzy an Owen got off the plane, kissing the ground as soon as the touched the ground.

Now it was Tyler's turn, everyone gathered around a chicken coop to watch as he faced his fear.

"All right gang, we're in the ninth inning," Chris said. "Tyler, for your challenge, you need to get in this pen for three minutes with these chickens." Chris opened up a box to reveal a chicken with two baby chicks.

"You can do it Tyler!" Y/N cheered.

"Yeah, unless of course you're chicken," Duncan laughed. Y/N hit him hard in the ribs, hoping it would leave a bruise.

"I'm not sure we're getting anywhere on this one," Chris said. Tyler was in the pen, but he was completely frozen, rocking himself back and forth on the ground.

"Tyler, this is the last challenge, quit being such a girl!" Courtney snapped. "You have to do this or we're going to lose."

Cody pulled out a calculator, pressing all sorts of buttons. "Actually, if you do the math, you can't possibly win and the score's seven to four."

"Not necessarily," Chris smirked. "We've got one more challenge set up."

"Who? It can't be me," Courtney said. "But I didn't-"

"You didn't have to," Chris interrupted. "W"e're always watching you and your reactions."

Y/N though back on it. What was Courtney afraid of? She replayed last night in her head, trying to remember if Courtney reacted strangely to something. Then it hit her.

"You're afraid of green jelly?" Y/N burst out. "You're getting on us for not getting over our fears but you're afraid of something so simple as green jelly? Oh man, that's way too much."

Courtney glared at her, but didn't say anything, too embarrassed to speak.

"I knew it!" Lindsay said. "Didn't I tell you guys they were eavesdropping?"

"Oh, who cares," Courtney said. "It's not going to make a difference."

"Let's make this interesting then," Chris said, walking up to Courtney. "I'll give you triple points if you can complete it."

Courtney sighed but agreed to the challenge. A few minutes after that, everyone was standing at the bottom of a tall diving board, a pool of green jelly at the bottom, which Chef was stirring. Courtney looked up in disbelief.

"You're afraid of jelly," Duncan giggled.

"Shut up!" Courtney seethed. "Only the green kind. It's like sugary, jiggly snot!"

"You can face your fear and dive straight into this pool of jelly," Chris said. "Or let your team lose yet another challenge."

Courtney sighed, her head down as she walked to the ladder and began to climb. "This is insane. I could seriously die doing this."

"Oh, that is cruel," Gwen cringed. "It's probably warm by now. Warm, green jelly. Snotty, bouncy-"

"You're not going to make me quit!" Courtney yelled down as she climbed. After a few more seconds, she finally got to the top, her legs seemingly turning into jelly as she looked down. After a moment, Courtney covered her face with her hands. "I can't do it! I'm coming down!"

The Killer Bass looked down and sighed in disappointment, the Screaming Gophers cheering that they got another win.

"Then there you have it," Chris smiled into the camera. "The Gophers win invincibility this week. Again."

Y/N walked away from everyone, frustrated that the Bass lost another challenge. She was definitely voting Courtney off, that stupid hypocrite. 

An hour later, it was time for the elimination ceremony. Chris had already handed the marshmallows the campers who had completed their challenge. Y/N chewed on her marshmallow as she watched the rest of the ceremony unfold.

"There are only two marshmallows left on this plate," Chris said. The only campers who didn't receive a marshmallow were Bridgette, Tyler, and Courtney. "The three of you did not complete your challenges today. One of you is going home tonight and cannot return. Ever. The next name I'm gonna call, Bridgette."

Y/N was relieved to see that Bridgette was leaving. She really hoped that Tyler was staying instead of Courtney. Although she hardly talked to Tyler, she liked him a lot more than she liked Courtney.

"The final marshmallow of the night goes to, Courtney,"

Fuck.

"You'll get that chicken next time," Duncan smirked, patting Tyler on the shoulder. Tyler got up from his trunk and walked very slowly to the dock.

"Looks like a new pecking order has been established here," Chris joked.

"It's not like he can cry fowl," Duncan chuckled.

"Time for Tyler to fly the coop," Geoff laughed.

"He won't be flying high tonight," Bridgette giggled.

"Okay that's enough!" Courtney stood up.

The air smelled like smoke and pine, and the lake in the distance was quiet now—no cameras, no yelling, no challenges. Just stillness.

Y/N sat on a worn log her arms around her knees. She stared into the night sky, replaying everything that had happened earlier, diving into the water, the panic, Duncan’s voice pulling her back to the surface.

She heard footsteps crunching over dry leaves.

“You always brood this dramatically, or is it just a post-trauma thing?” Duncan’s voice broke through the quiet, teasing but softer than usual.

She smiled faintly without looking at him. “Just trying to decompress.”

He sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, but not quite. Neither of them spoke for a moment, watching the stars in the sky.

“I never said thank you,” she said eventually, glancing at him. “For earlier. For staying with me in the lake.”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Wasn’t a big deal.”

“It was to me.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just stared into the fire, jaw ticking like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start.

After a beat, he muttered, “You did good. Most people would’ve bailed.”

“I almost did.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t. That’s what matters.”

Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten. She watched the flickering light dance across his face, normally so smug and unreadable, but right now, he looked… different. Open. Guard down.

“You surprised me, you know,” she said quietly.

“By not being a total ass?” he smirked.

“By giving a shit,” she said, nudging his boot with hers. “I didn’t think you’d actually get in the water.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well… guess I don’t always do what people expect.”

They lapsed into silence again. Not uncomfortable, just heavy with things unsaid. Riley could feel the words forming in the back of her throat, unspoken and fragile: I like you. But she swallowed them down.

He probably didn’t feel the same way.

Duncan glanced sideways at her. She looked tired but strong, hair messy from the lake and wind, eyes glowing in the firelight. He wanted to say something too, something real. But the thought made his stomach twist.

Instead, he said, “You gonna be okay next time we hit the water?”

Y/N nodded slowly. “I think so. I mean, I’ll still freak out. Just… less.”

“You can always hang on to me,” he joked, but it came out gentler than usual.

She smiled. “I might take you up on that.”

Another moment of silence. This one stretched a little too long. She wanted to stay. He didn’t want her to leave. Neither moved.

Eventually, Y/N stood up, brushing ash off her hands. “I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Duncan said, standing too. “Me too.”

They both hesitated.

“Night, Duncan.”

“Night, Y/N”

She turned and walked toward the cabins, the fire’s glow fading behind her. Duncan watched her go, scratching the back of his neck, heart beating faster than he liked to admit.

Why the hell did she have to make it so hard not to like her?

Y/N climbed the steps to her cabin, closed the door softly, and leaned against it with a sigh.

Why does he have to be so impossible to read?

Neither of them knew the other was standing on the edge of the same feeling.

But for now… that was close enough.

i cant wait to write them being so down bad for each other

reader is now officially head over heels for duncan <33

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist <3

@sc4rrc @casualluminaryobject @kys-kawaii0 @that-b-word-lol

if you would like to be added to the taglist, lemme know <33

[ficticiousdelicious]

What does Fic think of Eustass Kidd and Trafalgar Law?

In relation to: Fic's Favorite Characters (2024)

This is relatively spoiler free but there might be some hints.

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Eustass Kidd:

In general I really enjoy Eustass Kidd's grumpy, rough attitude and intensity but also how he creates his own brand of chaos instead of just going with whatever other people are doing. RIP anyone in his way...they're all equally obstacles in his eyes. He's often an instigator and very push and shove. It's interesting how much deep trouble Eustass gets himself into for his behavior and then has to slog back out of it. He seems very proud and I like how in-tact his intensity still feels. I really hope they give us his full backstory in the manga and/or anime (there's a few SBS things about it already) and I'd love to see more from his awakened fruit because that version of it is so damn useful! 'Useful Eustass'...hmmm... Aesthetically Eustass is so eccentric and sometimes he looks goofy but other times he's just rugged and I dig it - from the hawkish eyes to the punk attire to the lipstick and nailpolish. My one and only real criticism is that his new arm often seems a little too clunky? Meh. Smol criticism. I like the state of that arm and the lore for it and especially how ripped they make Eustass for wielding the stuff he does. THE MAN IS LIKE...6'9"?! I think?! A f-cking unit of a guy and he brings the spice. I was more fond of Eustass's very first outfit but once they depicted him more in the newer black shirt with its deep v-neck and his pecs and shoulders showing (sans cape thingy) I was bowled over. And of course I'm glad they kept his goggles! T3T

Trafalgar Law:

In terms of Trafalgar Law his broody, cynical moods can be so icy and in that way weirdly refreshing I think (because One Piece is an otherwise rather bright and vibrant world, we need some shade to balance). How Law acts so high and mighty partly because he's older than many of the other pirates he meets...ppppffttt. So funny man. Yet when other characters poke at him and get him going Law can get just as goofy. It's nice to have some humor from him. ...and he seems to have a certain guilty pleasure that it seems like his serious nature demands he keep rejecting every time it's brought up. HEH. Law's twisted/dry sense of humor that comes out of nowhere is hilarious too. One of my criticisms for him right away though is that sometimes it feels like he's made into too much of a joke. I felt it mostly irons itself out without an issue as the series carries on though. Departing from funny, Law comes from a dark place that has clearly warped his way of thinking and life. His backstory is exquisite; it gave an excellent sense of how he got to be who he is in the series present day. I adore how he's strong of mind thanks to how some of that hardened him. I would enjoy seeing more of his fruit power - in any capacity, it's fascinating. Aesthetically...god, Law is such damn pretty boy. It's the whole look and how he behaves. He is full of sass to marry to his looks. Hell. Everything he wears (except maybe the white sleeveless shirt...) is so put together though. I'm sure his shoes destroy his feet but god, from the jeans to the jackets and button-ups the man. has. class! A CLASSY QUEEN. Finally, his tattoo design is, in my opinion, one of the best and most fitting designs of that I've ever seen on a character.

Similarities I Like [about Law and Kidd]:

Their names are really cool! Fun to say, fun to read, fun to poke fun at. I always end up spelling Eustass Kidd with two 'd's' because I feel weird about just one. I also, obviously, like saying 'Eustass' instead of 'Kidd' the majority of the time. It just rings better to me. Aside from that they really seem to care deeply about their crews and that warms my heart. For Law every time he lets Bepo get away with shit I'm there for that. BEPO IS SPOILED. For Eustass it's fun to see how much his rowdy crew admire him (and god does he seem to love it) but oh man...some of the stuff we get for Killer and how Eustass handles things just hits hard! Just for Eustass there was a small, quiet and unique scene at the very beginning of the anime episode 1112 that blew me away because it was such a rare side of him. It spoke volumes. I still can't get over how lovely that was (I wish there was a bit in the manga for it). We get a lot more scenes for Law so it's harder to think of one that is really rare, but perhaps the one in his childhood where he's happy because of a dork, YOU KNOW THE ONE. In terms of Eustass and Law in the same space well...it's amazing how many of each other's buttons they can push down with all ten of their fingers and toes. They just resonate chaos but cooperation is possible and both are interesting. They're also from such opposite climates man (I guess I like the juxtaposition of that).

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Shippin' the Dudes (LawKidd/KiddLaw):

I figure shipping them isn't for everyone but I personally love the idea of it because I feel like they have chemistry in their volatile way. A goth and a punk - even if it's less literal in canon settings. NEED I SAY MORE? I just love the subculture vibes and the potential for playful fighting and getting into trouble to go on adventures. Their potential is outstanding and their attitudes are fun to write (I actually wish I had more finished fanworks for them but that's a work in progress and I just need five more minds and a few more limbs to keep up with that). Eustass and Law can also have very believable serious tones for sincere storytelling - for when you want to yank on people's feels. :3

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All anime images here © One Piece - Eiichiro Oda

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@chromatic-lamina SO MANY THOUGHTS. HHNNNGH. If there's a specific curiosity I missed with this let me know! I was afraid it would be hell to read this in notes so I just moved it into a post and well...then it got even longer! haha

[animaddie-live]

Yuri on Ice final thoughts

So there we have it, I have finished watching my first ever anime! And I LOVED IT!!!!!! Yuri on Ice is now one of my top 5 favourite shows of all time. I think my favourite episodes were 6, 9, and 2. My favourite character was definitely Christophe Giacometti. He was what made me watch this show in the first place.

I've never laughed so much watching a show before. So many audible reactions came from this. Will certainly be rewatching this for years to come. It was a nice story, I always love a good gay fluff pieces. But there were also so many side characters that I was also invested in. I grew to really like Yurio as well, his sass and anger was very amusing.

Now Viktor, Viktor makes me question so many things about myself. I get such gender envy from him. And loved seeing him explore his feminine side in his programs. Why can't I be a twink on ice. Also I found myself weirdly attracted to him. Idk I'm gay don't do this to me. But Viktor Nikiforov and Chris own my heart.

Yuri had fantastic character growth, I was so proud to see him find his confidence. He also grew the most as a skater, I can't believe he beat Viktor's record. And Yurio also beating the record. I was actually happy to see him win the world cup, it was well deserved.

I was left wondering. Were Viktor and Yuri ever confirmed to be in a relationship? Throughout the series I was always confused on whether it was canon or not. We never saw an on screen kiss. (There was that off screen speculated kiss at the end of ep7). I know I probably sound crazy for even questioning it, but it didn't seem like they had a conventional thing going on. I think it was all still in the flirtatious stage and they at no point were together together.

Similarly, when Yuri talks about "mine and Viktor's love" is this referring to romantic love? Or is it the bond between student and coach, or both? He often publicly talks about his love for Viktor, so is this them being out as a gay couple, or do people think it means something else? I was disappointed to see there was no outright decleration/acknowledgement of their relationship status. But maybe that is me just being fucking blind and unable to pick up on subtext. I shouldn't be so shallow. But overall, it could have been gayer.

Now the whole engagement thing, I did not understand why they did that. If they were dating it seemed farrrrrrrrr too premature to even be considering engagement. And to base the whole 'we will get married when he wins gold' seems so immature. I definitely felt like the first half of the show was significantly better than the second half. I didn't really like how things were left. It started so strong, but disappointed me in the end.

I wanted so badly to believe that they were soulmates, but we were just shown time after time again the immaturities/ incompatibilities. But I will continue to be delusional and jump on the Vikturi train because I am desperate lesbian who is very much alone.

If I may embody Chris for a second: in regards to Vikturi it felt like we were edged all series and denied a happy ending. It just felt like there was a lot of build up, but their relationship ultimately didn't progress that much in the end. I will be poking my head into the YOI fanart and fanfics because I am invested in these characters and need to see more of them.

All in all, I was disappointed and dissatisfied with how the show wrapped up. But that won't ruin it for me, I still thoroughly enjoyed it.

Quotes from my live blogging that sum up my experience:

ep2: "this is like some fever dream self insert fanfic written by a gay 13 year old"

ep6: "why are we the audience being edged so hard whilst they go off and make this many innuendos aaaaaah"

ep6: "is he also down bad, why am I being forced to watch the strangest foreplay ever play out"

ep 9: "that caught me so incredibly off guard, I haven't laughed that loudly in ages"

take a shot everytime I said something caught me off guard, or I said that I cackled. <- I feel like that encapsulates my experience perfectly

[brown-little-robin]

3 (i guess "sculpt" instead of draw ? idk pottery terms), 5, and 20 :]

3. What are your favorite subjects to draw? (OCs, your fan faves, etc.)

I do mostly animals! super simple bunnies and cats are my comfort zone. when I'm going for something that makes me use all my skills, I really love making big cats. tigers and jaguars. the MUSCLES. the BONES. they're just so charismatic and fun to pose >:D

recently I've been doing fanart sculptures, too, like this one of Ritsu and Mob (as cats)! I have a post queued on my ceramics blog of them, but you get to see them early because I figure you'll like them :3

5. What piece of art are you still proud of to this day? (Show or describe)

WEREWOLF FROM LAST YEAR

LOOK AT THAT SNARL. I'm SO excited to finally glaze him soon (hopefully within a few weeks!!!). my grasp on anatomy has improved since I made this one, but I still like him for his expressiveness >:}

20. What motivates/inspires you artistically? (topics, emotions, etc)

ok so other potters'/sculptors' work inspires me, but also, weirdly enough, it's a symbiotic relationship between exercise and sculpture for me. the more I'm thinking about bodies and muscles, the more I get excited about sculpting them. watching dance videos inspires me, and taking long walks inspires me. also, seeing animals moving in cool ways. going to the zoo. watching the how to train your dragon movie always gets me ThinkingTM about dragon sculptures lol

also, like I said in my last ask answer, the changing seasons and weather patterns inspire me. I do a lot of painting sculptures with clouds, rain, et cetera, like these three Weather Wizards:

very midwestern of me, I guess, putting clouds on Little Dudes :p