#tried something different with the colouring

[corviiids]

hello thank you for asking i am very flattered. i would be most honoured to give some advice that i am most certainly unqualified to give!!

ok advice 1: hey why does everyone keep telling me to read and write a lot

i think this is the most commonly given advice. i have always found it true but incomplete, because on the face of it this kind of focuses a little too much on volume. which by itself just isn't going to do that much for you, or it will, but it'll do it very slowly and ineffectively, because the second part of this advice i don't see nearly as much (and the part that makes it work for me) is that after you read or write something you need to do The Why Interrogation. what are you looking for?

when you like something, why do you like it? not just in terms of copying and learning an author's stylistic quirks or techniques, but in a more abstract way:

is it the narrative? that the premise is novel, that the progression of the story is unexpected and thrilling, that the stakes are high?

is it the characters? what is it about them? do they have compelling backgrounds? does the author spend a lot of time in their heads? is the pov internal in a way that lets you experience the story from their shoes? does their biased narration tell you more about them? or is it a detached narration that lets you see the characters in a way they don't see themselves, so the gap is intriguing?

is it the telling? maybe the prose is beautiful - what makes it so? sentence structure? unconventional use of grammar and punctuation? elegant, sophisticated vocabulary? or maybe the dialogue is sharp and human so conversation flows naturally. is the story paced carefully? does the author linger more in certain moments?

the same exercise is useful for what ISN'T working.

if your attention is drifting, what's making it drift?

purple prose? clumsy prose?

does the narration drag?

do the characters feel stagnant, and why?

plot doesn't make any sense?

maybe this sounds obvious, but imo it's a crucial piece of the advice that i just don't see as much because people tend to focus on volume of works consumed/created. the reflection and analysis is what makes that volume useful, otherwise you're just churning through content. the question should always be why, why, why. why did that work, why didn't it work, why did i like this, why does it suck. then proceed to: if i were doing this, how could i make it work?

advice 2: don't forget that all the words you need already exist.

this is more subjective advice. this is something that works for me personally. so ymmv. have you ever tried magnet poetry? you should try magnet poetry.

i always see writing as kind of a puzzle. if i have an idea in my head, the idea exists. the job is actually a translation exercise: how do i express the thing in my head as a thing other people can see? in this way it's like visual art, but it's also not like visual art at all. in visual art you choose where all the lines and colours go, completely freely. any line you draw is a brand new line.

in language, all your parts already exist. all the words already exist. (you can make new ones if you want but that's a whole different thing.) you are plucking symbols out of a collective understanding. it is like lego. all you are doing is selecting the most effective pieces and placing them in order. so for me, i am simply trying to find the 'right' words to fit each context as best as possible. it becomes a game of arrangement, which determines your expression.

then syntax and punctuation become your rhythm, which is how you determine flow. sentence length, word length, whether you omit words or use more, whether you want to be a bit unconventional. character also plays into this - i am not writing an advice 3 because i am getting self conscious but advice 3 would have been consistency of voice.

so i would prioritise vocabulary and timing. what are you trying to say (which words do you pick) and how do you want the reader to experience your words, how do you want the words to feel and sound (how will you pace your sentences)? remembering that all the parts are already there. it is the world's biggest game of magnet poetry.

advice 3 which doesn't exist: keep your voice consistent.

this advice doesn't exist. im not writing this i got embarrassed and stopped at 2. but if i did write this it would say, remember who you are. (remember who is writing your story. are you a character or are you god? remember how much you know. remember which feelings you have access to.)

[remedyturtles]

for the writing ask meme: disaster twins bc i am nothing if not predictable aaaaand ur pick of 8, 22, 29 or 42 if u would like :3

thank you my dearest russothy @rbtlvr for the prompt! this got away from me and also went in so many different directions lmao... snugs hope you like it :D

wordcount 2.7k, pre-series

22. "...you knew?"  29. "Tell me the truth."

"I've definitely got a unicorn horn." Leo said, holding up the puzzle piece. 

"Which one?" Donnie propped up the box lid. 

The two inspected, comparing the angle with the reference, covered in a multitude of unicorns.

"Hard to tell." Leo set the piece aside, with his other collection of possible key points. They'd only just finished the border, spread out the bedroom floor. They were twelve years old. They were both grounded. They were absolutely and intolerably bored. 

No TV. No phones. No lab time for Donnie, no skateboarding time for Leo. No amount of pleading with Raph or Mikey to smuggle them entertainment worked because they weren't happy either.

So it was the unicorn puzzle. And any other way they could pass the time. 

"It's your turn." Donnie said, flipping over a few middle pieces and sorting them into piles by colour. 

"Sure. Truth or dare." Leo plucked another horn-like piece with a pleased noise and tried to slot it with his first. It didn't fit. 

"Truth." Donnie said, after a moment.

"Wimp."

"I stand by my answer."

"Fine." Leo sighed, annoyed. "You're no fun. What is the last thing you looked up on the internet?"

"Pssh. Something absolutely genius, I'm sure." Donnie said. "But alas, we will never know, as I do not have my phone on me." 

"Hogwash." Leo said, mimicking his voice, "As if your eidetic memory doesn't know. I'm insulted on your own behalf that you would insinuate such a thing."

Donnie mentally ran back through his most recent searches and struggled not to cringe. A victorious smile spread over Leo's face, before he'd even said a word. 

"How'd you know it was going to be something stupid?" Donnie complained, ducking his head to pretend to sort his pieces more intently. 

Leo tapped his lip, milking his success. "Come on. You've got a thousand bookmarks on your computer for all your nerd stuff and overflowing shelves of paper books and manuals. If you need to Google something, then it's the bottom of the barrel questions." 

Donnie mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?" Leo leaned forward over the puzzle, grin growing to shit-eating.

"You heard me." Donnie's face flushed. 

"I'm not sure I did, because I'm pretty sure my genius prodigy Donatello knows exactly how many millimetres are in a centimetre." 

"I was just making sure!" Donnie complained loudly, snapping a hand out to push at Leo's face and shove him back to his side of the puzzle. "It's my turn now, shut up. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Leo answered, because he always said dare. 

"Shocker." Donnie deadpanned. "Fine. Eat a puzzle piece."

"Okay." Leo picked up the unicorn horn. Before Donnie could stop him, he placed the piece on his tongue, swallowed, and showed a decidedly empty mouth.

"Oh my stars, Leon, I didn't think you'd actually do it." Donnie said, stunned with the heights of his idiocy. 

"You dared me." Leo shrugged. "What did you expect?"

"We needed that!" 

"You cannot pretend this is my fault. You literally just told me to eat it." 

"I hate you. Alright, Curious George, it's your turn." 

Leo barked a laugh. He rearranged his collection of unicorn horn pieces, forever missing one now, and said, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Donnie wasn't a wimp. 

"Bet." Leo hopped up and immediately began digging in a drawer. "Close your eyes. Don't open them until I say so."

Instant regret. So much instant regret. Donnie didn't obey, tense all over, watching Leo with wariness. 

Leo found whatever he was looking for, keeping it behind his back when he turned around, and said, challenging, "Are you switching?"

If Donnie switched to truth, Leo would ask something really awful, and he'd have no choice but to answer as penalty. So Donnie scoffed, like that was a ridiculous question, and shut his eyes. 

Leo’s footsteps got closer and he sat in front of Donnie. He said, calm and mischievous, “I’m going to touch your face.”

With the warning, he didn’t flinch when Leo carefully removed his mask, placing it in Donnie’s hand. Then there was the sound of an uncapped pen, and a whiff of marker. 

“Hold still.” Leo said, fingers bracing Donnie’s head and setting the marker tip to his face, waiting a moment for him to adjust, then began to draw.

“Urgh.” Donnie said, holding still beyond his fingers fidgeting in his lap with the mask, eyes closed but recognizing the movement of the pen in two arcs over either eye. 

“There.” Leo said, removing the pen. “We match.”

Donnie opened his eyes to see Leo directly in front of him, something warm and fond before it eased back into gremlin mischief. “Feel beautiful?”

Donnie got up and looked at himself in the mirror. Dark red marker stripes were drawn carefully over his eyes, matching at the face grinning behind him. 

He rolled his eyes. He stomped over to the same drawer and said, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Leo said, already taking off his mask. 

Donnie found the black marker. “Close your eyes.”

Obediently, Leo shut his eyes, grinning too hard that it caused his forehead to wrinkle while Donnie moved his head around to get the perfect sharp and thick eyebrows. He put genuine effort into making them look good, because Leo had too. 

“Done.” Donnie said, releasing his hostage of Leo’s head.

Leo leapt up to the mirror and gave a wolf whistle. “Damn! That’s not bad.”

“I didn’t come here to fuck around.” Donnie replied. Looking at both of them in the mirror he wished he had his phone so he could get a picture. He flashed a peace sign anyway, like they were taking a selfie, and Leo automatically mimicked it. For a moment, he forgot the situation and grinned back at his twin through the mirror. 

Then he remembered why they were stuck in a room doing puzzles and dropped the peace sign, shuffling down to sort through the stacks. Leo watched him, the small frown made quite more serious by his impressive brows, then hopped over the half assembled puzzle to his side. “My turn?”

It was an invitation to stop, if Donnie wasn’t feeling it anymore. But it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. “Truth.”

"Do you regret it?" 

Donnie glared at him. 

Leo stared back at him, completely serious. 

"I'm switching. Dare." Donnie said. Whatever horrible thing Leo could concoct would be better than answering that. Even if it meant he had to do it, no matter what. 

"Fine." Leo shrugged. "I dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheating." Donnie lifted his lip in a sneer.

"Is it?" Leo challenged. There wasn't a specific rule against it. 

Donnie didn't answer him, turning to try and poke his various pieces together. Neither of them spoke for a while. The tense atmosphere reigned. 

"I regret that I got caught." Donnie said, eventually. "Which probably isn't what I'm supposed to feel." 

"So you'd do it again, if you felt you couldn't get caught?" Leo prompted, knuckles white in his lap. 

"Only one question. Your turn. Truth or dare." 

"Dare."

"I dare you to answer a truth." Donnie said, sharp. 

Leo's eyes narrowed. He couldn't claim it was cheating without being a hypocrite and he knew it. He rolled out a slow, "Fine. Ask."

"Why'd you take the fall with me?" Donnie was been dying to ask. Leo hadn't even known what Donnie was up to, and yet he stood in front of Dad and swore he'd been helping. 

Leo said, "Pssh, I thought you were gonna ask something hard. So you weren't grounded alone, obviously. And it'd be so boring if I couldn't hang out with you anyway. And so I could bug you about what the hell you were thinking. So. Truth or dare?"

Donnie would eat every piece of this puzzle if he didn't have to answer another truth. "Dare." 

"Wimp." Leo said, shark-grin. 

"Your standards for cowardice seem to change from moment to moment." Donnie said, mouth dry. 

Leo could easily pull the same move and insist he answer a truth, but with the tit-for-tat complete, to abuse the power would break the game. "It's fine. This one'll be real easy," his gaze hardened, "especially since it's what you should've been doing all along. I dare you to take me with you next time."

Donnie exhaled slowly through his nose, swallowing. He avoided Leo's eye, pretending he was super interested in placing his puzzle pieces. "Fine." 

"Promise?"

"Yeah, whatever."

He could feel Leo staring at the top of his head. He irritatedly poked a piece in place, the leg of a unicorn, and asked, "Truth or dare?"

"I'll do truth if you do." Leo bargained. 

A rare offer. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't help but take the bait. "Deal."

"Perfect. Hit me." 

Donnie could tell Leo was already formulating his next question. Unfortunately for him, Donnie got to ask first. "Tell me something you've never told anyone."

Leo grimaced. He didn’t answer for a long minute, eyes visibly ticking back and forth as he thought.  Then laughed, a little nervous, and said, "Alright. Okay." 

The nerves were interesting. Donnie poked, almost fascinated, "Scared?"

"No, I just –" Leo bit his lip and glanced up, fidgeting with a bunch of sky pieces. He was definitely nervous, breath quickening. "I've wanted to say, actually. So this seems as good a moment as any."

Oh, this was actually serious. Weird. Made weirder by the drawn-on brows. Donnie waited for more information before assuming anything. Leo delayed longer, killing time, and only to falter at Donnie's expression. 

"It's uh, not a big deal, but. I figured I should … tell you. That. I'm gay." Leo held his breath at the end of the sentence.

"Right." Donnie nodded. 

Leo blinked at him like an owl. "... you knew?"

"I… figured." Donnie evaluated the situation and determined a different reaction was needed, judging by the clear anxiety of Leo's face. This hadn't been what Donnie was expecting, because why would Leo be nervous about his reaction. "I did not consider it worth a second thought. You are my twin. There is nothing about you that I wouldn't accept without question."

"Oh. Okay." Leo inhaled shakily then let it out slowly. "Cool. That's cool. Don't tell anyone else yet, okay?"

"Like you even have to ask." Donnie scoffed. There was a code about these sorts of things, after all, twelve years in the making. He wasn't about to break their sacred bond now. "Do you need a hug?"

Leo crawled directly over the puzzle to climb into Donnie's arms. He squeezed so hard it squashed the air out of his lungs. He mumbled in Donnie's ear, "Thanks."

"I love you. If anyone has a problem with it, send them directly to me." Donnie's grip tightened to the point of Leo letting out an 'oof' too. 

"Love you too." Leo gave another squish then pulled back, a puzzle piece stuck to his bare leg. "Your turn."

"Now?" Donnie complained. "After we just had a moment?"

"And we're about to have another moment, bucko." Leo was close enough to poke Donnie directly in the plastron, pretending to be stern even as he was still a little shaky. "Your turn."

"Truth." Donnie sighed, fulfilling his end of the bargain. 

"Why'd you do it?" Leo asked, immediate. All young indignation, eyes shining with left-behind hurt, and a more incandescent worry that was mirrored in all the annoyed glares outside their door. 

“Scoff.” Donnie avoided his eye. “Surely you do not need to hold me at metaphorical gunpoint to ask that question when you already know the answer. I wanted uranium.”

"That's not why you did it." Leo said, expression all the more severe by the painted brows. He insistently poked Donnie in the middle of his plastron again. "I know you didn't want uranium just to have. There's always a purpose, a plan. Why?" 

"Multiple uses." Donnie said, tightly, through clenched teeth. "It doesn't matter. No one wants me to have it because they think I'll give myself radiation poisoning. Because it'll put me on a watch list. Because when I tried to sneak out and meet up with a seller I got caught. So it doesn't matter, because obviously no one here is going to let me."

"You're right about that, because you will give yourself radiation poisoning and sneaking off when you're a twelve-year-old mutant to meet up with some sketchy seller was a terrible idea. That's still not what I'm asking. Why?" Leo said, because despite pretending for everyone else that he was in on it the whole time, he was actually just as opposed as the rest of them at his failed scheme.

Donnie physically pushed Leo away, since he was still so close. "It doesn't matter! Okay! I can't do it, so it doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me. Because I'm asking." Leo insisted, hands braced backwards onto the puzzle and separating out the few pieces they'd gotten together. "It's truth, you have to answer."

"I could switch to dare." Donnie said, annoyed.

"Then I'd dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheap and you know it."

Leo just stared at him, still leaning back and waiting. Completely dead set and expectant that Donnie would crack. 

"There's nothing more to say." Donnie said, swallowing and feeling how his throat was sore. "I have projects that only a radioactive isotope can satisfy."

"Okay?" Leo prompted. Waiting for the expected info-dump. 

"Why do you care?" Donnie snapped. "Weapons. Big, powerful weapons, that would obliterate anyone who dared mess with our family. And – a-and unlimited power. And heat. For our home. Okay? Are you happy? Because we don't to have those things anyway, so it doesn't matter."

Grim triumph washed over Leo's expression, and he leaned forward to ask, "Do you think we'd want that at the expense of your life?"

"I wasn't going to die!" Donnie exclaimed. "And if I have the power to make our lives better, safer, more efficient, shouldn't I take it? Shouldn't I push the laws of the universe to give us everything we deserve when we're trapped underground like rats?"

"That stuff is pretty important, but it's not more important than you." Leo said, slowly. 

Donnie smacked his hand against the floor and blurted, "That's what I'm good for, so yeah, it is!"

Leo's expression flashed and he gave a low growl. He lunged forward and caught Donnie in a roll, sending the two of them tussling into the dresser. A loud thud made the wall shake. Donnie kicked Leo in the shins. Leo elbowed Donnie in the solar plexus. 

"Boys!" Splinter knocked loudly on the door. "No killing each other!"

"Yes Dad!" Donnie and Leo recited together, stalled mid-fight, waiting for the footsteps to disappear before struggling apart.

"What was that for?" Donnie rubbed his plastron, scowling.

"For basing your self worth on what you provide for this family." Leo straight up threw puzzle pieces at him, scattering unicorn bits all over the carpet. "Don't be ridiculous. You're so much smarter than that. If we only let people in because they're useful then I woulda been kicked out years ago."

"That's not true." Donnie protested. 

"That's not the point." Leo rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter who's useful or not. You're one of us forever. No take backs. You don't have to superfit the lair with big weapons and make us completely self-sustaining or whatever. Dad only let you start doing upgrades because you were having fun. If you're doing it to earn your place here then I'll burn your lab down."

"It's fun." Donnie said, quickly, because Leo had an affection for fire that should not be tempted. "Fine. I hear you. I will be satisfied with projects that bring me joy and not radiation poisoning. Can we finish this puzzle or did you actually swallow that piece?"

Leo's severe expression melted, and he reached behind Donnie's non-existent ear and revealed the unicorn horn piece flipping over his knuckles. "Looks like you had it rattling around in your big head this whole time."

"Hah. Caught you." Donnie grinned. "If you cheated on that dare now you gotta do one that's twice as bad." 

Leo swore.

[djdjdjmk]

Some info about my ocs with close-ups for sketches in this post

Starting with Gulya!

Full body coloured reference. She learned how to sew from her mother. Likes fairies and butterflies.

More doodles under the cut

She's tends to be very shy, hiding behind her dad or her older twin in case something happens. She got her lying skills from her dad as well as his fluffy hair.

Got along very well with Ford when he arrived from the portal. Tries to appear more mature than she actually is, but at the end of the day she's just a little kid. Somehow got Fords (and Mabel's, too) sweet tooth.

Her relationship with her sister is kind of in a weird spot. More often than not Dina ends up being the one who consoles and comforts the other, but rarely the other way around. Sometimes it's because Dinara thinks that she has to be strong for her sister, sometimes it's because Gulya is extremely codependent on her sister and is too scared to figure out how to do things on her own.

They would've looked very alike if it wasn't for different hairstyles and glasses.

She's kinda OK with Soos, sometimes he fixes her things but they aren't that close.

Gulya is very close with Wendy, because both of them lost their mothers around the same time and because they're pretty comfortable in eachother's company, Wendy being the cool older sibling in Gulya's eyes and all that.

She gets along really well with Dipper, She enjoys mysteries, although sometimes ends up being the voice of the reason that is too quiet to be heard.

She likes to hang out with mabel and participate in sleepovers and makeovers with her and her friends sometimes.

[k-s-morgan]

New ATLWETD Snippet

The ATLWETD snippet from the upcoming chapter! The snippet for Those Gentle Slopes should follow later today.

---

“You have a second wand,” Harry said flatly. He tried not to let emotions colour his voice, but his attempt failed — every syllable rang with bitterness.   

There was a flicker in Riddle’s eyes, like he was considering lying his way out of this, so Harry glared harder. Sharp, unpleasant coldness settled inside his chest, chilling him from the inside out. 

“Save it,” he snapped when Riddle finally opened his mouth to say something. “I know exactly why you need it. You don’t like us having brother wands, so you made sure to go and get something that will give you a chance to attack me full-force. Am I wrong?”

More silence followed his question. Riddle must have rethought his approach because his face changed again. The placating look slipped off it like the artificial mask it was, with more genuine irritation taking its place.    

“I suppose there is no way to burn this unbearable curiosity out of you,” he uttered darkly. “You insist on poking your nose into things that do not concern you.”

Such a dismissive answer instantly sent a new surge of anger down Harry’s veins. He took a step towards Riddle, his fist clenching around his wand furiously.

“Things that don’t concern me?” he repeated. “You got this second wand to fight me. I’d say this concerns me pretty damn much!”

More annoyance. Riddle clearly didn’t intend to take him seriously — he just regretted getting caught.

His chest compressed, even as his anger fizzled out. Feeling numb now, Harry began to turn away, but Riddle’s fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, jerking him to a stop.

“Your conclusions are premature,” he said calmly. Harry paused, his heart thumping hard on his ribcage.

Riddle might have sounded calm, but his grip on Harry’s wrist was bruising. Whether he was lying right now or not, it was important for him to make Harry stay and to explain himself. This… this probably meant something.   

“I do not know the specifics of the relationship between you and the other version of me,” Riddle continued, and this time, there was definitely a bite of frost to his tone. “But I don’t see you as an immediate or inevitable threat. The second wand will be useful because I intend to duel you, not fight you.”

Duel?

The heavy chain around his heart began to loosen. Harry blinked. The wariness was still there, still lurking, but the fierce longing to believe Riddle instantly overpowered it.      

Could it be that he’d read it all wrong? When he saw that second wand, he thought for sure Riddle was back to planning something. It made sense, considering his paranoia and his recent humiliation, and yet… wanting to duel Harry made sense as well, didn’t it? Riddle saw him fight and win most of his duels. Maybe this time, he was finally impressed.

Besides, he trained his other Knights, and Harry was technically one of them now.

But then why would he simply not say it? Riddle must have left Hogwarts’ premises at some point to get a new wand. He wouldn’t be satisfied with just anything, so he had to have tried different options before picking one. He didn’t say a word about it — he continued to stay silent up until today, when Harry finally confronted him. So was he lying or not?

Agitation stirred in him anew. Harry tried to shake Riddle off, but Riddle must have predicted it: his grip intensified, and he grabbed Harry’s shoulder with his other hand, forcibly turning him to face him.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Reluctantly, Harry obeyed. Riddle was staring at him with strange intensity, and a moment later, he understood why. He could swear the Horcrux in him twitched — the link between them sparked to life, and the next thing Harry knew, he was seeing what Riddle was trying to show him.

The image of the two of them in the middle of Room of Requirement. Focused on one another. Duelling.

He was seeing himself through Riddle’s eyes. At first, it was difficult to adjust his vision — everything was moving too quickly, bright flashes of different spells clashing and replacing one another. Was he actually this fast, or did Riddle just see him this way?

Whatever the answer was, Harry couldn’t look away. Something about this vision made heat prickle along his collar — he remembered to breathe only after his lungs began to burn insistently.

The way Riddle imagined him… the way he saw him… it was fascinating. Harry was a whirlwind in his eyes, so bright and focused and endlessly alive that he could barely recognise himself. It was almost like he had more colours than everything else in the room — like Riddle filled him with these colours, elevating him above the pale surroundings.

It was flattering. And surprising. And most importantly, everything in this vision looked precise, which meant that Riddle had probably imagined it many times before.

He wasn’t lying. He was planning for them to start duelling together.

The link broke. It took Harry a moment to realise he was back to staring at Riddle.

Distantly, he noted that he was panting as if he had returned from a real duel just now. Riddle didn’t seem nearly as affected, but his gaze was searing, his pupils blown wide.

Unexplainably, Harry felt a swoop in his stomach. Neither of them moved, standing there like fools, completely engrossed in one another.          

[rlvaille]

yangyang // low low (210824)

[stervrucht]

[lacquerheadd]

pov: you walk into the training room in the jedi temple

[cheatsylu]

Fanart + Fanfic #1

“A Suspicious Encounter”

[ddlcbrainrot]

just two weird girls maximising their joint peculiarity

[caedi]

JACK & JOKER (2024)

"Let's play truth or dare, like old times."

[castorfell]

Oh my god these kids are British 😔

Horrid Henry fans pspspsps come out

[racingliners]

Lewis Hamilton & Mercedes

12 Seasons, 246 Races

6 World Drivers Championships, 8 World Constructors Championships

84 Race Wins, 78 Pole Positions

153 Podiums, 3949.5 Points

4210 Laps Led, 55 Fastest Laps

[haunth0use]

[taesnix]

BACK from the void to present to you: Nico, who wears the most absolutely ridiculous socks ever because no one can see them.

Gods, he has so many.

Most of them are thick and warm for maximum comfort, and they go up to just under his knees with the stupidest little things and patterns on them. For summer, he has an equally impressive collection of crew socks that are still thick enough to not get easily worn out, but don't make him sweat buckets trudging under the sun.

Nico knows that he'll forever be a collector at heart but it's not like he wanted to choose socks of all things as his next prized possessions. He didn't wake up one day and decide "man, these things are pretty great, let's go amass an army's worth of SOCKS!" It just happened. He had no control over that. They just feel nice, okay. And perhaps the colour combos and sheer variety of everything makes him happy.

Is it kind of embarrassing? Yeah. Would he cease to exist if anyone found out? Holy shit, maybe. But it's not like anyone has been able to tell underneath his daily go-to of heavy jeans and combat boots, so he's been in the clear so far.

Until he gets distracted for a split second while sparring with Percy and riptide cuts a huge slash across his leg.

Nico's fast, so he's able to jump back just enough so that the sword barely catches any flesh, but his jeans unfortunately don't come out unscathed.

"Keep your head in the game, Neeks!" Percy teases with a grin. He's got an annoying glint in his eye to match and Nico just knows he's about to say something worse. "No matter who walks in."

And—shit. Nico feels his face flush scarlet despite him screaming internally at his body to not react. He pointedly does not look at the new blob of neon scrubs sitting next to Kayla in the stands. "Shut up, Jackson. Like you're any better when Annabeth so much as blinks at you."

Percy shrugs. "Hey man, at least I acknowledge it."

And—fine, he does. Nico will give him that. Jackson was peak levels of embarrassing about his girlfriend on a good day.

"I think you should go get that patched up," Percy smirks. He then makes a big show of squinting at the stands, pulling a similar face that Jason makes trying to read highway signs without his glasses. Basically, he looks really fucking stupid. "Impeccable timing, too! Whaddya know? There seems to be a free medic right there."

One day, Nico will kill him. It'll fix almost all of his problems, and gods know he'll always have too many at any given point in time. But he'll do it. Maybe Annabeth will even take pity and give him a pass.

Before Nico can even open his mouth and retort with something snarky, Percy raises his hands and hollers. "Hey, Will! The King here is in need of some dire medical attention!"

"No, I'm not!" Nico shouts when Will's eyes grow wider. "Nothing happened, I'm fine."

Percy snorts and claps him on the shoulder. "As if that's worked before. Good luck, little man. Same time tomorrow?"

And he doesn't wait for a response, just gives a one-handed salute and begins to make his way to the stands. Percy says something to Will as they pass by each other and Will's brows furrow.

One day.

"What happened?" Will asks as he jogs over. His blond curls rise and fall with every step and if you zeroed in on only them, the loose coils look like they're in zero gravity. Bouncing with an impossible grace as they get closer and closer.

Not that Nico was looking. Or that he'd even noticed at all. Man, is it getting hotter here? He should definitely drink some water soon.

"Nico?" Will waves a slow hand in front of his face. "You alright? Percy said his sword mostly caught your jeans, but you never know."

"Huh?" Nico chokes. Right, this is the dire medical attention part.

Will gives him a wobbly smile, like he's trying not to laugh but failing miserably. "Okaaay then. Can I check your leg?"

"Um, sure."

He's still so out of it that he doesn't hear his subconscious screaming at him why Will kneeling down to lift the denim is a terrible, horrible idea.

Nico feels the lithe fingers carefully cut down the fabric with scissors that have seemingly appeared from nowhere. He feels them gently peel back his jeans with a confident precision, minimizing the disturbance to the wound. He hears the faintest of gasps and he feels the other boy go completely still.

He tilts his head down to see what the issue is—surely Percy hadn't slashed him that bad—and then, like a statue, he freezes in place too.

In the most obnoxious shade of yellow possible, rows of mischievous rubber ducks beam back at both of them. He says mischievous because they've got annoying smirks and eyebrows strong enough to rival the Stoll brothers on the first of April. Which is quite a concerning amount. The smallest flecks of red from his cut take the whole "sinister menaces" thing to an unholy level.

Neither of them breathe for the next 30 seconds. Or maybe it's 30 years. Hell, if Nico knows now, his damn heart stopped working properly ages ago.

Then, either his saving grace or the final nail in his coffin, Will sucks in another shaky mouthful of air and clears his throat.

"You know," he starts, scarily neutral. Not a single waver in his voice. "I'm beginning to think Kayla's got a point."

Kayla talks a lot, running through an average 5 conversation topics in a record of 7 minutes with Nico himself, so that narrows it down by exactly nothing. "Uh, about what?"

Will doesn't reply, simply carrying on with cleaning and dressing his injury like he hadn't said anything. It drives Nico crazy, but he knows Will's priorities, so he holds his tongue. Will had drilled them into Nico's brain during his first infirmary stay; treat first, talk second.

So he waits. He lets Will dab the tiniest bit of nectar across the cut and wipe away blood. After a minute or two, his leg is wrapped neatly with a bandage, and suddenly, there's no more treating to be done.

"We're matching," Will finally says.

Nico blinks. Because—what.

"I mean, it's a slightly different shade, but eh, close enough to count."

Nico breaks out of his stupor when Will traces one of the ducks with his nail. Soft but accurate, light but impossible to ignore, like everything else he does.

"Yellow?" Nico whispers. He can't seem to muster up his voice to be louder than that.

Will looks up at him with a particular glint in his eye, and Nico's heart stops a second time.

"Mhm," he grins, dusting his knees as he stands up. He winks and it has no right to kickstart the thumping in Nico's chest. "Same wavelength."

"You're ridiculous," Nico lightly shoves at Will's shoulder and prays that his face isn't burning red.

Will just laughs and catches his hand, holding it in place. "Sure, but I'm also right."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Are n—"

"Okay," Will interrupts, "I hate to break it to you, Neeks, but we're both wearing obnoxious shades of yellow. You've got the added bonus of sly rubber duckies, and my scrubs glow in the dark. Ergo, we're both ridiculous and both on the same wavelength."

Gods, who the hell says, "ergo". Why is Nico so enamoured with such an idiot.

"And how, exactly, does Kayla have a point here?" Nico sighs, ignoring that his hand is still on Will's shoulder and that Will is still holding it there. He'll take his silent wins as they come.

Now, Will's cheeks become a rosy red. It makes Nico want to trace a finger around his freckles to check if his skin has become warmer, too.

"Well..." He trails off. He glances down to Nico's leg again, where some of the damn ducks are peeking out behind his jeans.

With a grounding deep breath, Will shuts his eyes for a moment. When they open, he meets Nico's gaze head on, calm yet confident once more.

He's beautiful like this, like he always is.

Against his own will, Nico smiles. Will shines underneath the sun and his stupid blond curls are golden.

"She said we're soulmates. And I think she's right about that."

And Nico thinks she's right about that, too.

[1captainjordan4]

First bit of outfit requests on twitter!

[summoningspark]

so i may or may not have printed out the entirety of @anonymousalchemist's amazing fic like a bird, like a stone onto three Very Large pieces of paper.

you might be asking, why, fay? why did you print out an entire 53k fic for a video game you've never played? well you see, if you read it, you would understand.