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i love this guy so silly he rolling :)

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A warm up that came out kinda nice

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High-res Assets for Cater Diamond - C&D Diner Outfit

Dialogue, animations, and extra assets can be found on Drive: Link

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High-res Assets for Idia Shroud - C&D Diner OutfitDialogue, animations, and extra assets can be found on Drive: Link

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"Let's Break Up" with: Cater, Floyd, Silver

and we're done with this series!

Other parts: Housewardens ; Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie ; First Years

Cater Diamond

“Let’s break up.”

Cater just nods.

No protest. No flinch. Just a quiet, almost too-casual nod, like you’d asked him what he wanted for dinner and he was still deciding.

It stings. Deeply. You wait—hoping he’ll say something, joke about how that’s the worst line in your whole relationship, call you dramatic, ask if it's a trend—but nothing comes.

So you turn, jaw clenched and heart aching, and begin walking toward the door. Fine. If that’s all it meant to him, then—

You glance back. Just once. Just to be sure. Just to prove to yourself that you’re not walking away from someone who cares.

And that’s when you see it.

Cater’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his sleeves pulled up, his face buried in the crook of his elbow. His shoulders are trembling, so violently you’re surprised you didn’t hear him before. He’s trying to keep quiet. Trying not to make a scene. But the sobs are still escaping, muffled and broken.

Your chest caves in.

“Cater.” Your voice wobbles. You’re already crossing the room. “Cater—wait—I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it, I’m sorry—”

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t stop shaking. You reach out and gently pull his arm down so you can see him. His eyes are red, the tears still falling. You’ve never seen him cry like this. Not even close.

“You could’ve stopped me,” you whisper. “You could’ve said something.”

“I…” He struggles to get the words out, throat raw. “I didn’t think I had the right to.”

Your breath catches. “What?”

Cater laughs, humorless. “I thought maybe… maybe I pushed you too far. I always do that, right? So when you said it, I just… thought, maybe I deserve it.”

You shake your head furiously. “No. No, that’s not true. I was angry. I was stupid. I didn’t mean it, not really. I just… I didn’t know how else to make you listen.”

His lip trembles. You pull him into your arms and he collapses into the embrace like a lifeline. His face buries into your neck, arms locking around you so tightly you think he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he loosens his grip for even a second.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur into his hair. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he whispers, voice shaking. “I should’ve fought for us.”

You both stay like that—clinging, crying, holding—until the weight of the argument fades and only the desperate ache of love remains.

Floyd Leech

“Let’s just break up.”

The words drop into the room like a stone into water—fast, thoughtless, and instantly irreversible.

Floyd blinks at you.

Then he laughs. Loud, grating. It's not his fun laugh—it's sharper, higher, the kind that makes your chest hurt. “Eh? That’s how it is, Shrimpy? We’re breaking up now?” He grins wide, all teeth, like it’s a game. Like he’s daring you to say it again.

You don't.

And that’s when it hits.

The grin falls like a mask. His shoulders drop, the light in his eyes flickers. “...Wait. You’re serious?” His voice is flat now, too calm. “You’re actually serious.”

“Floyd—”

“No, no no no, I got it.” He waves his hand like he’s brushing it off, but there’s a sharpness to his movements. “It’s cool! It’s totally fine! Who cares, right? You can just say that kind of stuff, super easy—snap—like it don’t mean anything!”

He laughs again, bitter and pacing now, hands tugging at the edge of his hoodie like he’s trying to keep himself from breaking something—or maybe breaking you.

“Floyd, please—”

He whirls back around on you, eyes wide and glassy now, voice trembling with fury and something underneath it you don’t want to name. “Don’t ‘please’ me, Shrimpy. You don’t get to look at me like that and still say that crap. You promised you’d stay.”

You take a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean it. I was angry. I’m sorry—”

He’s already marching over.

“You didn’t mean it?” he repeats, voice mocking, almost a whisper. “You didn’t mean it?” He reaches you fast and grabs your face with both hands—not rough, but not gentle either. “Then say it. Right now. Take it back, or I swear I’ll lose my mind.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I take it back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.”

He stares at you, breathing hard. The fury in him twists suddenly, flips into something wounded. His thumbs brush your cheeks. His mouth twitches like he’s trying to smile, but it won’t stay.

“I hate you,” he mumbles. “I hate that you can make me feel like this.”

He presses his forehead to yours, shutting his eyes tight. “I was gonna go feral, Shrimpy. I was this close to losing it—throwing things, storming out, squeezing someone until they popped. But I didn’t. ‘Cause it was you.”

Your fingers wrap around his wrists. “I’m sorry,” you whisper again. “I shouldn't have said that.”

He exhales shakily and pulls you in, crushing you to his chest. He’s all muscle and desperation and twitching emotion. “Don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “Don’t say stuff like that. You can hit me, yell at me, bite me back if you want—but don’t leave me.”

You nod against him. “I won’t.”

Floyd grumbles, half a whine, “You’re such a pain, Shrimpy… makin’ my chest all twisty.” He nuzzles against you, softer now, his voice small and muffled. “But you’re my pain, okay? Mine.”

And you just stay there, wrapped in the arms of a boy who doesn’t always know how to say I love you—but means it with every wild, aching part of him.

Silver Vanrouge

“Let’s… break up.”

The words are barely out before Silver is in front of you, his hands trembling as they gently wrap around yours. He lifts them, slowly, carefully—guiding your palms to rest against his cheeks. His skin is warm, a little damp, and his eyes—gods, his eyes are wide and shining with hurt he doesn’t know how to hide.

“Do you really mean that?” he asks, voice hoarse, like the thought alone is enough to choke him.

Your heart twists painfully at the crack in his voice, the way his breathing stutters, the way his fingers shake as they hold onto you like you're already fading.

“No,” you whisper, immediately. “No, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, Silver, I didn’t mean it.”

A deep, shuddering sigh escapes him, and his whole body seems to unravel. He slumps forward, resting his head against your shoulder, and you catch him instinctively, holding him up as though he might fall apart otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice barely audible, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize… I didn’t see how far I was pushing you. I thought we were okay. I thought…”

“We are,” you say softly, running a hand through his hair. “We will be. I was just overwhelmed—I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have said it.”

His arms wrap around you, slow and tight, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you in his arms. “We’ll fix it,” he says quietly. “We can fix it. I’ll do better. We both will.”

You nod, your fingers curling against his back. “Together.”

And for a long while, neither of you say anything else. You just stay like that—wrapped around each other, silent and steady, hearts slowly calming in the space where love remains.

Masterlist

tags: @staplertwst

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"Let's Break Up" with: First Years

more hurt/comfort for the soul (also -Ortho)

Other parts: Housewardens ; Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie ; Cater, Floyd, Silver

Ace Trappola

“You know what? Let’s just break up.”

You say it without thinking, voice sharp with frustration, the words tumbling out between raised voices and stubborn pride.

Ace stops mid-sentence.

His mouth stays open for a second too long, like he’s buffering, like surely he misheard that. Then he lets out a short laugh—mocking, almost—but you can hear the crack in it. You can see the way his eyes are already glossing over, his eyebrows drawn tight.

“Oh, ha ha,” he says, voice too high, too strained. “Very funny. Real hilarious. You wanna take my gig too? Leave the jokes to me, why don’t you?”

You don’t say anything. Not yet. You’re still trying to calm down. Still trying to figure out if you meant it—if it’s the fight talking or something worse.

But then he’s grabbing your hands, and his palms are cold and shaking.

“It’s a joke, right?” he says, forcing out a laugh that doesn’t sound like him at all. “C’mon, say ‘just kidding’ already. That’s what this is, right? You’re messing with me?”

His eyes are wide, darting between yours, searching for any sign that this isn’t real.

And you cave.

“No—no, I’m sorry, Ace. I didn’t mean it,” you say, voice low, guilt heavy in your throat. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

His breath leaves him all at once, and he slumps forward, into your arms, forehead bumping against your shoulder with a quiet thud. He wraps his arms around you so tightly it knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You’re the worst,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your shirt, but his grip doesn’t loosen. “You scared the crap out of me. Who does that? Who says stuff like that?”

“I said I’m sorry…” you murmur, holding him back just as tight.

He doesn't answer right away—just keeps you there, trembling a little against you, like he’s still grounding himself in the fact that you’re still here. That you didn’t walk out.

That you didn’t really mean it.

Deuce Spade

Fighting with Deuce was rare.

He’d always been gentle with you. Earnest. Careful in the way someone is when they’ve never had anything this precious before and are terrified of breaking it. He tried so hard—too hard sometimes—to be a good partner, the kind who listens, the kind who loves right. And maybe that’s why today hurt so much more. Because when the argument started, and when his voice finally rose in frustration, it felt like something sacred had cracked.

You didn’t even mean to say it. The words were a loaded weapon, and your temper had fired the shot.

“Maybe we should just break up.”

Time stilled. The words echoed in the space between you like shrapnel.

Deuce froze. You watched the moment they landed, watched the shock hit first, then the disbelief, then—slowly, crushingly—the pain. His hands clenched at his sides, his brows furrowed so deeply it looked like he didn’t quite believe what he’d heard.

Then he crossed the room in three long, stumbling steps.

He caught your hands in his, gripping tight—not hard, not forceful, just desperate. Like he thought if he held you firmly enough, maybe he could anchor you here.

“Please…” His voice was thick, ragged. “Please take it back. I—I can do better. Just—don’t. Don’t do this. Don’t say that. I love you, okay? I love you.”

Your heart cracked under the weight of him. Of his trembling fingers and tear-rimmed eyes. You had expected maybe more shouting, a slam of the door, or maybe just silence. But not this. Not Deuce unraveling in front of you, pleading like losing you was the worst possible future—and to him, it was.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, tears welling up as you pulled him into your arms. “Deuce, I didn’t mean it. I was upset. I didn’t mean a word of it.”

He wrapped his arms around you so tightly it hurt. He pressed his forehead to your shoulder and let out a shaking exhale like he’d been holding his breath ever since you said it.

“That was mean,” he mumbled, not accusingly, just… quietly. Like it had cut him and he didn’t know how to pretend it hadn’t.

“I know,” you whispered, guilt curling heavy in your chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you either,” he whispered back, voice hoarse. “I never do. I’m sorry I got mad. I should’ve—should’ve been better.”

“No,” you said softly. “We both messed up. We’ll fix it together.”

He nodded against your shoulder, still holding you like he might fall apart if he let go. The storm had passed, but the ache lingered. The kind that only time and closeness could ease. So you stood there in each other’s arms, swaying gently, hearts beating wild but together.

Neither of you ready to move. Neither of you willing to let go.

Jack Howl

The words slipped out before you could stop them.

"Let's break up."

The silence that followed was immediate—heavy. Jack's eyes widened, his brows furrowing as if you'd just slapped him. His posture stiffened, arms tensed at his sides as he processed what you’d said.

“…Is that all it takes?” His voice was low. Hurt, but steady. “One argument and you’re ready to throw everything away?”

You could see the crack beneath his calm. The way his hands clenched slightly, like he didn’t know whether to reach for you or retreat. Jack wasn’t the type to raise his voice or lose control—he was solid, dependable, always trying to do the right thing. And right now, you’d shaken that foundation.

Your throat tightened with guilt. “I didn’t mean it,” you said, the words rushing out. “Jack—I’m sorry. I was upset. I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He stepped toward you and pulled you into his arms without hesitation, wrapping you in a firm, grounding embrace. You could feel the tension in his chest, the way his heart thudded hard against your ear.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” he murmured, not angry, just… tired. Pained. “Words like that… they’re not something you throw around. Not over something we can work through.”

You nodded against him, arms tightening around his waist. “I know. I know, I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” he said softly, steady and sure. “I’m not walking away because of one bad day. And I need to know you won’t either.”

“I won’t,” you promised, voice small. “I don’t want to.”

He exhaled slowly, resting his chin atop your head. “Good. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

You stayed like that, held safe in his arms, silently vowing to never let temporary anger speak for your heart again.

Epel Felmier

The argument had already gotten heated, voices raised, tempers flaring in ways they usually didn’t. Epel rarely lost his cool with you, but today everything had gone sideways—misunderstandings piling up until it all felt too heavy.

And then you said it. “Let’s break up.”

The room fell into dead silence.

Epel’s expression shifted instantly—not hurt, not shocked, but furious. “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” he snapped. His hands clenched at his sides as he stared at you, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “That’s not something you say just ‘cause you’re mad!”

His voice cracked slightly, more raw emotion bleeding through as he took a sharp breath. “Do you even understand what that would mean? You and me—we’re not just a fling. I’m not just someone you toss away ‘cause things got hard for a second.”

You stared at him, realizing how much weight your words had carried. His anger wasn’t the scary kind—it was desperation masked with pride, panic covered in frustration. His cheeks were flushed, his chest rising and falling too fast.

“I didn’t mean it,” you said quickly, stepping toward him. “Epel—I swear, I didn’t mean it. I was just angry and I said something I shouldn’t have.”

His jaw tightened, but his eyes softened the moment you reached for him. He let you take his hands, holding on tighter than he needed to. “Don’t do that again,” he said, voice quieter now, almost trembling. “You scared the hell outta me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I really am.”

He nodded, still not letting go. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I hate fightin’ with you.”

You didn’t even make it to the end of the apology before the both of you collapsed onto the couch together. Neither of you said anything for a long time, afraid to break the quiet that followed—afraid that letting go might mean losing something too important to risk.

So you just sat there, holding on. Because even after the fight, after the words that never should’ve been said—neither of you was willing to let go.

Sebek Zigvolt

“Let’s break up.”

The room goes still. The echo of your voice feels too loud in the quiet that follows. You expect Sebek to erupt, to explode in indignation, to bellow something about betrayal or honor or how could you say something so careless.

But there’s nothing. No shouting. No sound at all.

Just the slow, deliberate click of his boots against the floor as he approaches you. His shoulders are stiff, as if bracing against a blow. His expression is unreadable—not blank, but too full, too intense to make sense of. Then, before you can say another word, Sebek drops to one knee.

Not in anger. Not in showmanship.

But in something far more raw.

His hand clenches over his heart, head bowed, his green hair casting shadows over his face. “If this is punishment,” he says hoarsely, “for my failure to protect this bond between us… then I accept it.”

You flinch. “Sebek—”

“No,” he interrupts, voice cracking even as he tries to maintain his usual force. “I swore to protect all that is precious to me. And you… you are more precious to me than even my own pride.” He lifts his head slowly, and the sight of him nearly breaks you. His eyes are shimmering—not quite crying, not yet—but one tremble away from shattering.

“I acted harshly,” he continues. “I raised my voice, I let my frustrations guide my words, and I failed to listen when you needed me to understand. If I have driven you to this, then I have failed you more gravely than I can bear.”

Your throat tightens. “Sebek, I didn’t mean it—what I said. I was angry. I didn’t… I just wanted you to hear me.”

At that, his brows draw together, like your words wounded him and soothed him all at once. “Then do not say such things,” he says, breath trembling. “Please, don’t say such things. My heart… it cannot take the idea of losing you.”

You kneel down in front of him, your hands reaching for his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to make you think I was really going to leave.”

He leans into your touch like it’s the only thing anchoring him. “I would have let you go if you asked,” he says, quietly now. “Even if it destroyed me.”

“Don’t,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his. “Don’t say that. We’re not going anywhere. We just need to… talk better. Fight better. Not tear each other down.”

He nods, slow and aching. “I will learn. I want to learn. Just—” he swallows thickly, a real tear sliding down his cheek as he exhales—“don’t do that again.”

He pulls you into his arms without hesitation, crushing you to his chest like a knight who thought he’d lost the war and just found peace again. And there, on the floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, the two of you begin to stitch together the pieces of a bond too stubborn, too sacred, to truly break.

I believe in gentle sebek supremacy

Masterlist

tags: @staplertwst

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If you know this song you're either cultured or need help. Or both. Are you okay? 😟

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idia because i love him

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more expressions 👍

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Btw, I went to the doctor and told her my height, but she LMAO DIDN'T BELIEVE ME?????? And told me to measure it. WELL

In the end, I was shorter than I thought🤓

AM- A- AM I GETTING SHORTER??? WHAT????? Like I thought I was 154 cm, but I ended up being 152 cm??? OMGG😭😭😭

I KNOW IT'S A SMALL DIFFERENCE, BUT STILL—!!!

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💀

Thank you to the person who requested idia to see how I would do his hair. Hope you enjoy😭

I broke down my process on insta too. I halfway regretted my life decision but look what we have here. Feel free to go check it out. Process on Insta

wip 1

wip 2

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Ts looks cute

Why's Xavier looking at us like it's our fault

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RELATED TO THE CINDER WESTWOOD COMMISSIONS EVENT

So these requests will probably take longer to complete than I initially thought. Nothing serious, it’s just I have to go visit my family in a few days and I won’t return until the very beginning of August. I’ll still work on the requests when I can, just know that it’ll take a good week or so for me to finish them all.

I’m going to finish up my redesign for one of my Twst OCs (don’t worry it’s almost done) before I go and work on the drawings. I already got the outlines of the OCs and what they should/shouldn’t wear. All I have to do is find outfit inspirations and draw them.

I’m sorry that this’ll take a bit, but I promise I’ll get them done. I’ll show a WIP right before I have to leave.

(Tagging so everyone who’ll get an outfit can see it)

@helpthegremlinisloose

@kalistorydreamer

@djchik

@slumberingrose-fandom

@st4rz666

@cynthinesia

@lonesomeseafairy

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R Idia Shroud - C&D Diner Voice Lines

Due to event restrictions, Groovy related lines are locked until the event has been cleared. I will update once these are unlocked. Login line has been captured.

Summon: Welcome... Ugh, how did I end up working at the diner...? I just wanna get back to my room ASAP to play my games.

Groovification: --LOCKED--

Home: Can I go home yet?

Home Transition 1: Fweeet, those fluffy chipmunk's tails are the cutest! I want to touch them, but... why do they keep running away from me!?

Home Transition 2: I can feel a thousand chipmunks staring at me from all direction inside Crisp & Dips. You can really see just how much the owner loves these guys.

Home Transition 3: Cater-shi's really gettin' into it... I think I'll just be like I usually am. It's just a part-time gig, so.

Home Transition - Login: I don't really hate doing the same thing over and over again. It's just like how I grind for levels in a game.

Home Tap 1: This popcorn-patterned apron... It's a little too out-there for someone like me to wear, but it suits the theme of the place, so I'm conflicted...

Home Tap 2: I'm actually surprised Azul-shi didn't leap at the chance to be the acting manager. Feels like he woulda said, "Please, leave the management of this establishment to me!" or something like that.

Home Tap 3: Lilia-shi just keeps on smiling even when a customer's berating him. How's he doing that!? Wish I could just let things slide off my back like that.

Home Tap 4: Time slows to a crawl when working a diner. Feels like I've been working for 5 hours, but it's only been 5 minutes...

Home Tap 5: Look at this bright and shiny uniform that looks like it'd more suit some rando normie...! Why can't equipping it increase my debuff resistance by like 100!?

Requested by @farfalla049.

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If it helps, these are like afk lessons!! To level up your character of choice, but unfortunately you cannot use the same character,, (would be nice if we could tbh /hj)

Let the Azulfest begin /j

Im so slow I ain't never been here before

Since when we had this

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Drew him with rollerblades cause i can

Who let him in the kitchen

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a list of kaomojis that I like:

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

- ̗̀(⌯ˊᗜˋ⌯) ̖́-

⁄(⁄ ⁄°⁄–⁄°⁄ ⁄)⁄

♡ ～('▽^人)

꒰(｡˙𐃷˙｡)꒱

(๑˙ー˙๑)

(✱°⌂°✱)

(^〇^)♪

( > ω • )☆

d(´v ` *)b

( ´ཀ` )

_:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

(*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→

(っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)

▓▒░(°◡°)░▒▓

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

∠( ᐛ 」∠)_