#but next time i draw him it'll probably be fixed

[crayolacoloredart]

sips tea innocently. hi there super paper roblox fandom. how's it going???

[spctrsgf]

mi luz

based off of this comment i wrote on tiktok: “he looks like he could use a hug and a shoulder to cry on.”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: nonspidey!reader, language, hurt to comfort fic (miguel needs a break. like a sabbatical or something)

a/n: ngl, i'm not too happy with how this turned out, probably because i wrote it all on a plane and it's not beta read, but i need more soft miguel fics in my life!!!

He’s tired.

He’s tired and he’s missing you. The boring, monotonous walls of his office harshly remind him of his place, the jubilant orange glow of his monitors tell him of just how much more work he’s got left before he can finally retire to your world.

Lyla, lounging atop one of his screens, watches him and his glossed over eyes, knowing exactly what the lazy flick of his fingers meant. She sighs, glitching over to bring one of his screens forward. “Miguel!” She yells, scaring the poor man out of his thoughts and momentarily extending his claws. “Lyla, what the fu- what the hell?” He growls, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No kids are here, you don’t have to keep it PG.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, you got work to do, and if you don’t finish it soon, it'll be too late to get in some quality time with this lovely human,” she shoves the digitized photo of you up and into his face. “Before your next mission.”

He sighs, knowing she was right.

“Daydreaming about it isn’t gonna get you there any quicker,” she flickers to be right in front of his face, slapping a hand onto his nose as if she could actually touch him. “GET YOUR SHIT DONE.”

“Fine, fine! Get out of my face.” He grumbles the second sentence, swatting her away and strolling back up to his screens. His eyes catch on your photo, and he reaches to enlarge it in front of him, but—

“No,” Lyla dissipates the photo before he can even get to it, face twisted in disappointment. “No. Not until you finish working.”

“Hey! Who’s the boss here?” 

“Me. Now work.” Lyla glitches out of view with a triumphant huff.

He huffs dramatically, pouting as he pulls himself together. He lets his emotions drop from his face and slides into his stoic mask, resuming the work on his screen. It’s hypnotizing as soon as he gets into it; Lyla must’ve done something to keep him focused, he supposes. She always does have a trick up her sleeve.

In what feels like no time at all, he’s done with his work. With a final, defiant tap to close down his screens, he spins on his heel, ready to leave and go home. Ready to hop in through your window— as much as you hate when he does that— and rest his head atop yours, caging you into where you’re surely stirring something on the stove.

But as he turns, he’s face to face with none other than Hobart Brown. A look to the left reveals his partners in crime; and Miguel knows he’s in for a ride. At least a ten minute detour, as it always is with the four of them. 

“What?” His hands come to rest on his hips naturally, trying to become bigger to them as if it would make the next words out of their mouth more blunt and less angering. “We have a slight problem—” Gwen starts, before Pav butts in.

“It's not slight. It’s a pretty big deal!”

“Mate,” Hobie huffs. “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m trying my best!”

"Yeah, and that's going great-"

“Okay, stop it, all of you,” Miguel interrupts before they can go down the rabbit hole, trying to keep his already strung thin patience steady. “What’s going on?”

“There’s another fight going on.” Hobie gives the answer blunt, to Miguel’s satisfaction.

“Cafeteria?”

“Main hall. Sector D.”

The huff that erupts from his lips draws a colorful picture of his current emotions as he hops off of his elevated platform. “I’ll fix it.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Miles brings himself to stand in front of the man. “We’re not gonna hurt anyone, right?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He brushes past the kid, dismissing him with a shake of the head. 

“Miguel. Don’t take your anger out on them–” Gwen tries, but all it gets is his recoil and daunting stalk towards her.

“I will do whatever the–” the swear word is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. “I will do whatever is needed, but violence is not my first course of action.”

“Please be nice to everyone,” Pav says, peeking over Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s been a long week for all of us too.”

Miguel sighs and brushes past them, saying nothing. He brushes off their words in silent agreement. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone either. 

By the time he reaches where he'd been informed the fight was, there was a mosh pit encircling the brawl, a mass of blue and red and spidermen. He approaches from behind, the tide parting for him as each person registers his presence.

When he meets the pearl in the oyster, the hotheaded spiderman hasn’t noticed him quite yet. He’s got the other spidey— one of the many spiderwomen— beneath him, gnarly fist raised to land another punch. Miguel sighs, grabs the back of the man’s elbow, and dragssss him off.

“Everyone get away now.” His tone squeezes the air out of the room and leaves no room for discussion, not that anyone would dare to object. The spidermen flee the scene before he can even finish his sentence, and by the time he’s turned back to the perpetrators of it all, they’re gone too.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, murmuring a low cálmate under his breath as he moves to regain his bearings. “Lyla,” he waves the said woman near.  “Find those spidermen and remind me to get to them when I come back.” She sputters to focus in front of him, dipping her head in an obliged nod before sputtering off again to wherever she found herself needed. 

Miguel shakes and unclenches the fist he’s made with his free hand and stalks back to his office, rubbing the palm of his hand where his claws had taken purchase amidst anger. 

Sometimes, he regrets putting himself in charge of all of this… shit.

But… he’s the only one who can do it. No one had the vigor, the dedication, the understanding of why and what had to be done to keep the multiverses in line and make sure what happened to him never happened again. 

It’s tiring. It takes his nights and his days and chips at his brain until he’s sure there’s nothing left in the expanse of his head. For someone who appears naturally angry, he’s quite good at keeping all the real anger in.

The downside of this: he bottles it all up. But the bottle isn’t big enough, doesn’t last forever, cracks at the seams, and then shatters in a explosion of tears. It enjoys crumpling him into the floor, loves the way his hands shiver in the cold breeze, shakes him to the core and, for all his confidence, makes him doubt.

Lyla’s only seen him like this once, when he couldn’t get away and instead had to sequester himself into his office, not quite getting to hardwiring her nosy personnel to do something else. 

No, he doesn’t rely on her, as he normally would with other problems. He doesn’t trust her, he doesn’t even trust himself with post breakdown Miguel, no. 

He goes to you.

You. The lovely, kind person he’s had the great privilege of calling his. His love, his support, his everything, or better yet; mi luz. My light. The light at the end of the tunnel, at the end of the world, when he feels like the walls are caving in and there’s really nowhere else to go and nothing more to lose.

You calm him, like you always do. Effortlessly caring, eternally so. Never afraid to give, to let him take and take until he’s stuffed whole. You know little things about him, take the time to learn them. Like where to get his favorite empanadas— much better than the ones in the spidey cafeteria— and that he loves when you press your fingers into his shoulder blades. He loves your massages.

He loves you.

Tapping insistently at the shitty gadget on his wrist, he mindlessly pulls up the coordinates for your dimension. Second nature. He’s walked himself into some obscure corner of the building, but he isn’t processing such mundane things at the moment. He can feel himself slipping, the mask fracturing. He can’t be left alone right now.

You.

The portal is up now, flashing and glitching in an assortment of colors, beckoning him in with its delectable light, like a halo. Miguel wastes no time giving in, diving into the portal and tucking himself tight like a torpedo.

Multiverses zoom by as he glides through hexagons and hexagons, thousands of people in each. Worlds that he keeps steady, safe, perfect. Normally, he’d stop to smell the flowers, observe and appreciate the sereneness of every special home in front of him. Pride himself in the fact that there was a special home for someone to come home to. 

But not this time. No, this time he keeps his eyes screwed shut, he wouldn’t, couldn’t get distracted by the novelty. The bottle is cracking now, cracking into long and sharp spikes aching to slice across his chest. He’s so close, all he could get himself to do was focus on his breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out—

The abrupt warning of your multiverse approaching pinches his wrist, reminding him that this whole mess was very much real. He stumbles into your living room with a not so quiet thud, startling you. You drop the spoon you were stirring something with— smells like some sort of sauce, yum— and whip your head towards him.

He’s got his arms wrapped around you before you can even process that it's him, burying himself in your neck and inhaling the calm scent of you, a mix of your perfume and your detergent, so very you. 

“Miguel.” You sigh into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist as the initial shock of his intrusion wears off. 

He slumps into you, only trusting himself to let out a low grumble of your name. 

“What’s going— oh,” your brain puts two and two together. “Oh, Miguel, shh. It’s okay, I got you.”

And he breaks. Because he knows you mean it. He knows you have him. You always do.

The tears are bubbling over the rims of his eyes and splashing down his cheeks, his hands are twisted up in your loose shirt. He’s sure his claws have made an entrance too. One of your hands reaches to turn off the stove, the other rubbing incandescent patterns into his back. 

You were always so careful. Never leave the stove on, Miggy. Don’t wanna burn the food. He loves that about you.

“Hey,” your voice wisps in through the fog of his mental breakdown, of the end of the world. “Hey. It’s me. Just me. Your absolute favorite person on this planet.”

“Multiverse.” He manages through sob induced hiccups. 

“Multiverse,” You smile, breathing out a soft laugh as you toil him in closer. “Breathe, my love. I have you. Nobody is here but me, and I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

He nods, lets himself weigh more onto you.

“That’s it, I got you,” you coax. “Get it out of your system.”

He gives all the tears he has to give. He’s sandwiching you between the counter and his stature, but you don’t seem to mind. Your spilling words, mindlessly, talking until he’s done and ready to attach himself to them, the soft baritone of your voice.

And it takes time, but he gets there. He’s in the tunnel, the walls are caving in, he’s believing he's given all he has to give, but you’re there, and you’re telling him no, no you have not. You don’t get to lose, because you have SO much more life to live.

His light.

The tunnel lets up, opens up the walls, lets him bathe in you, in the way your arms are still hooked tight around his waist and you’re going on about how there was a new episode of your favorite show that he had to watch. 

And of course he would watch it.

He’d do anything for you, anything you asked whenever you wanted. And he knows, in turn, that there wasn’t a damn thing in this god forsaken reality that would stop you from doing the same for him.

You tell him as much. To his face, into his hair, with the dance of your fingers on his back, in the way you guide him to the couch, when you place down some food and a cup of water— you just cried out your backup supply— and again when you place yourself down next to him.

“I’m so beyond lucky to have you.” He murmurs to you, some fifteen minutes into the episode of your show, something about this dude with a metal helmet and a green baby? He can’t recall the name.

You turn, a smile gracing your features. “You deserve me. You deserve everything the multiverse has to offer and more. Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have one less person bothering you.”

“Ah, yes,” you laugh, swatting his cheek. “Like you’re such a nuisance.”

He laughs, actually laughs. It’s nice.

You tilt your head onto the girth of his shoulder, snuggling in tight as your attention is again sucked into the screen.

He smiles dazedly at you, finally feeling at peace.

Mi luz. My light.

is anyone else still obsessed with him or is that just me

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ello! Can I request Fnaf movie Mike meeting like a Homeless kid who lives in the pizzeria who gives him tips and tricks to survive headcanons? Basically to confuse the robots they like wear the head of a offbrand/prototype Crow animatronic? They just chill and goof around but remain out of sight from the famous man behind the slaughter and his daughter? :3

Ever since you've made Freddy Fazbear's Pizza into your "home", you quickly learned the ins and outs of the establishment.

You knew what times the animatronics automatically started their shows, where all the security camera blindspots were, how to make a pizza quick and easy, etc.

Above all else, however, you knew how to avoid those robots so they didn't try to make you like them.

Normally, they'd be protective over children--they weren't hostile because you were a homeless kid breaking in and living there.

It's the missing kids themselves.

They've visited your dreams, and every time it ends the same way: with Cassidy asking if you wanted to "join" them and getting frustrated when you refused.

You learned what happened to them and communicated via drawings for a while...until you accidentally broke something, which made them assume you were deliberately trying to destroy the place.

So you've been playing a sort of cat-and-mouse game since, often pranking them and thwarting their attempts to capture you, but never meaning anything ill by it.

If anything, they seem to like these little games, too.

After reading some old employee handbooks, you discovered that the animatronics have a programming glitch that makes them confuse humans for endoskeletons without suits on--and they'd use lethal ways to "fix" them.

Conveniently, you've found a costume head of a crow (likely from a partner of Freddy's or some ripoff brand) backstage, and after successfully tricking Foxy with it...you realized how helpful this could be to the security guards who've applied here and "vanished".

Fastforward to when you meet Mike, fully aware he's the next guard to possibly die (the last one got himself killed before you could even properly warn him in advance--not that he would have believed you anyways).

He's understandably concerned bc you're just a kid who's all alone here with no family, and given his trauma....he suddenly feels like he needs to protect you.

Instead, though, it's the opposite.

"Slide that toolbox in front of the floor vent."

He eyes you strangely, wondering why a kid was bossing him around. "...why?"

"Trust me."

The second Mike does that, he jumps as something starts growling and slamming against the vent's grates, clearly trying to get out and failing as it retreats soon after.

"What the hell was that??"

"Probably just rats." You innocently shrug. "Or Mr. Cupcake who seems especially hungry tonight."

"I'm sorry....the cupcake moves?"

You realize he's absolutely clueless, so you tell him about the animatronics and their routines, showing him the crow costume head.

He's impressed that you know so much about this place (like you were an employee), but he doesn't believe they're capable of doing any harm until later on.

When he brings Abby, you easily see through the facade they're all putting on for her, but you play along with their antics while building the pillow fort (although you avoid talking or looking at Vanessa, never trusting her nor the yellow rabbit your "friends" spoke of).

During the final night where you both rescue her from Chica, you urge Mike to use the crow mask to trick Bonnie and Freddy.

He was certain it'll never work.

They couldn't be that dumb....surely they'll know it's him trying to sneak backstage..

Plus the mask was stuffy and heavy, and he just think it's easier to taze them.

But at your insistence, he tries it on and is shocked when they stare at him for a moment, before continuing their scheduled "show", completely unaware of his ruse.

It does make him wonder how you figured that out all on your own..

[pip-n-chips]

People who are supposed to heal you being the ones to do harm is so incredibly hot, okay? Yes, this is about Harper.

Harper's always so put together, and it's not surprising. He's been doing this for a long time, he's gotta be. But it can't last forever, and I want to see this man snap, lose his composure, break down. I want him to drop the nice doctor act and take what he thinks he deserves. (He sure as hell has the power to!) You know that one scene that occurs before you leave the asylum? Where you get better and he wants sex before you go? Have you ever declined his advances (or fought him off)?

Yeah. I think about it A Lot, that manipulative little shit-

He shows ANGER and it's not for that long, but it's there! Also, drawing inspiration from inkyquince's post from earlier for a sec, I bet he feels SO disrespected. He's done so much for you! He's helped you manage (or ignore) your trauma, you're more promiscuous because of him, and you won't even let him get some of the action? Not even as a thank you? What's stopping him from just undoing all that hard work, then? If you're not going to be fucking grateful?

(He needs your trust he needs your trust he needs your trust he needs your tru-

Fuck. Right. He needs you to trust him, so you'll keep seeing him. But what if he didn't need you to, though? He'll just find a way to get you landed in the asylum again, so you'll have no choice but to see him. Solid plan!)

Anyway, the next bit is probably out of character but that's kind of the point?

I'm thinking about him slamming you back down on the desk after you tell him no, and he doesn't even bother to hypnotize or drug you because he has no fucking patience for that. The doors are locked and his office is soundproof (recent installment, actually! and even if it weren't, the orderlies are instructed to turn their heads) so you can fight and scream all you'd like, but no one is going to come help you. Only him! He knows how much you need this, and so does he, so quit fighting--

Also thinking about after the fact, when you're in pain and covered in bruises he inflicted. He'll become all sweet again, fixing up the damage you caused (yes, you. you didn't have to fight so hard, you could have just been compliant. doctor knows best, not you) and- oh, look at that, you're traumatized again. Guess he'll have to cancel your pick up, keep you for another week. It'll do you good.

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

A ghost face x child!reader who’s Sidney little sister?🤔

Seems like this anon and the last one are sharing same braincell.

I'm not sure if you meant ghostface Or Billy.... Or Stu.... Or the others.... So i decided to do this a little differently

Edit: I just realised this was probably supposed to be a head cannon but my thick skulled brain realised too late.

Ghostface x child! Sidney's little sister! Reader!

Warnings:

Relationship: platonic!!

Ghostface was only seen as a serial killer whose sole purpose was wanting to be famous and popular. All about the movies. A killer with no other sole purpose or motive.

Out of the people the ghostface himself would've thought of being attached to, he never expected he would be attached to the younger sister of the girl he's going to kill.

The masked black robed knife wielding killer would find himself sitting somewhere near a tree with a small child next to him rambling about what's going on at home or at school.

He also finds himself listening or not at all. Most of the time focusing on the little person and wondering why he's sitting down with her instead of stalking and killing other people. He wouldn't think of killing the girl besides him, he isn't really fond of the thought of that.

But more of playing and interacting with the kid who he knows as "Y/n". Sometimes scaring her a little bit with the house phone at night. He doesn't mean any real harm from it.

Growing more attached than he ever thought he would've. Day by day growing more anxious at the idea of killing Sidney.

'What would she think? What would y/n do? Finding out the person who calls himself Ghostface, who has basically been your best friend, murdering your older sister?'

Through the thin fabrics of his mask, he watches intently at the two figures chatting. His leather gloves gripped tightly against the handle of his knife. Frustrated at himself earlier when he had quite some time convincing y/n that the killer who had been murdering people near where she lives wasn't him. Why was he so fixed on making sure the girl wasn't scared of him? What got him to act like this?

Y/n didn't even seem to be scared in the slightest. Her words ringing almost endlessly inside his mind.

"I know you aren't. Because you're my best friend, and my best friend would never do something like that!"

What would she do if she found out that yes, indeed her 'best friend' would do something like that.

Staring at Sidney reach out to grab something from the cabinets. Then looking over at the shorter girl who jumped excitedly at seeing her favorite snacks in the hands of her sister.

His leather gloves let go but the knife remains grasped.

Sighing, he stood up and turned around. Now listening to the sound the ground and boots make every time he takes a step. It seems he would have to delay a little further until he figures things out.

———————·

Despite his very edgy thoughts from above, he acts completely different around you.

You can practically hear him beam behind his mask, always running around carrying you at night and shit since he can't really go out in the morning.

Doesn't want you finding out his real identity cause what if you accidentally spill the beans? Then everything will be ruined. He wouldn't really mind if you mentioned him as ghostface only to Sidney cause it'll probably make her on edge more. But then she'll probably never let you out alone again.

So he made you promise and swear 20 times to never reveal his existence.

Also since this is Ghostface.. His way of loving (platonically here ofc) isn't exactly considered... Normal. Extremely dead set on making sure he doesn't do anything or spill anything to make you scared of him unless he knows you won't. Won't ever tell you the truth either until or unless he's cornered.

Does a lot of stuff with you. Either drawing, singing, dancing, cooking (in someone's house or yours when no one is home) or playing some random sports. (Unless it's in winter, he's SWEATING)

Every time you get a house call at night you're 99% sure it's from Ghostface. He either starts with something sounding series or straight up tells a corny pun.

Would get emotional whenever you verbally make it apparent that you appreciate him. Like fr.

He can't stand the thought of hurting you. Ever. (Plus he would probably technically murder someone who ever looks in your way a little wrong.)

You can tell him all your 4-12 year old problems and he would fix like.... 99.9% of them. (By murder and threats) and that one 0.1% is a real problem. (That he can't fix by murder and threats)

His urge for killing Sidney will be half nulled since he sees how close you two are. Overtime he'll be more and more unsure of what to do, he doesn't want you to hate him in any way.

But for the time being, he's just gonna cherish his time with you because he feels he's too far gone in the dark maze to back away and find his way out.

---------

Here's a Special Wednesday Post, I'm trying to cherish my time before the exams hit me. Have a good day :) !

[shortnsnips]

i am so glad tubbo's saying something abt the economy system bc its actually kind of an annoying feature to watch as a viewer too LOL and don't get me wrong i was hyped up for it bc i loveee when smps have economies! im sure it'll work itself out in the next few days bc they're probably still figuring it out but

dont understand why they keep nerfing the coins you get from stuff when you already have high price goals for items in the shop - it's probably to draw it out as long as possible but it's not like it would stop people from playing/watching lol. it didn't before. (this wouldn't be an issue in my mind if it weren't for the fact players have to put in so much TIME for such little payout if that makes sense)

nobody wants to use the economy system as it is because there is no reliable way to get good amounts of coins so the people who DO try (like tubbo) get criticized for doing so and like tubbo said there's not/there's not going to be enough money circulating through the players (prob bc bbh has most of it but not even mad at him for that i think its funny)

the bounties being the best way to get the most amount of coins is cool in THEORY when there's actually stuff to do and they don't run out quickly - if this was fixed the nerfed coin amounts for other trivial things would make sense in my mind

again, it's still early and they'll still probably fix it as they go so im just yapping but i was really looking forward to seeing player to player transactions bc i LOVEE when smps do that so bad!! when tubbo was doing it yesterday i was BUZZING especially bc it was sooo smart of him LOL the qsmp currency is a cool CONCEPT but i just miss when smps used iron/gold/diamonds and made their own currency </3

[umgeorge]

george russell is interviewed during the press conference, saudi arabia - march 6, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "George, why don't we start with you? Mercedes were difficult to read at the pre-season test, and it feels they were a little bit difficult to read at the first race weekend, as well. What conclusions did you draw from the Bahrain Grand Prix?" George: "I think the conclusions we drew were the car has potential. I think when we saw the pace on FP2, that was genuine. Lewis and I had P1 and P2. I think probably not everybody turned up, but we were genuinely fast. And then in the race we had some really big cooling issues that caught us by surprise, and we know there's at least a fifteen second loss just in the battery and the power, and probably more after you consider the effect it had on the tires. And just an extra couple of seconds in stint one, when I had Checo beind me, would have been pretty handy, so I think we'd have been in the fight for P2, for the podium, with Checo and Carlos, but definitely we didn't show our true potential." Interviewer: "Were those cooling issues a simple miscalculation, or something that actually needs a fix?" George: "I think it was definitely a miscalculation. It would have been quite straightforward to just open the bodywork very slightly and make things much easier, but we don't know how we fell into that place… Sorry, I'm just distracted by Charles walking in." [laughs] Interviewer: "Charles. Welcome!" Leclerc: "Sorry." George: "Yeah, lost my groove now. [laughs] No, but we don't really understand why, because we didn't change anything from testing-in FP2, as well-and it suddenly caught us out on Saturday, so I'm sure it'll be better this weekend." Interviewer: "I was gonna say, are you worried about it this weekend? George: "We need to get on top of it, and we've got some tests tomorrow to try and understand further what happened." Interviewer: "Alright. Thank you, George." [time jump] Journalist: "Nelson Valkenburg, Viaplay, for George: F1 media, everybody, is obsessed with the possibility of is Max going to Mercedes. How would you feel if a driver who had some choice words for you a year ago would join the team?" George: [laughs] "Yeah, I think… As I said last week in Bahrain, this is my third season now alongside Lewis, greatest driver of all time, and I feel like I've done a pretty good job alongside him, so whoever were to line up alongside me next year or the years to come, I welcome anybody, welcome the challenge. You always wanna go against the best, but ultimately, for me, just focused on myself. I believe in myself, I believe I can beat anybody on the grid, and you just got to have that mentality, so as I said, having Lewis as my benchmark for the last couple of years has been a pretty good benchmark, for sure." [time jump]

Journalist: "But what chance, George? What chance is Max Verstappen really going to Mercedes? From the inside, could you see it happening? 'Cause it would be perobably the biggest story since your current teammate signed for Ferrari." George: "I think any team want to have the best driver line-up possible and right now Max is the best driver on the grid, so if any team had a chance to sign Max they would 100% be taking it. So I think the question's more on the other side, on his side, and on Red Bull's side. Obviously so much going on there. We don't know what truly's going on behind closed doors and ultimately it's none of our business right now. Yeah, I guess it would be exciting." [time jump] (NOT SHOWN:) Journalist: "David Croft, Sky Sports F1. You all did 57 laps. Everyone did 57 laps, apart from those that were lapped, on Saturday in Bahrain. You all went into the race optimistic, I'm sure, because it was the first race of the season. How was your optimism levels at the checkered flag? That's to all of you." George: "I think after three days of testing everybody knows Bahrain pretty well. It all panned out as we probably expected, but obviously we all hope that the field tightens up a little bit right at the front. But the fight behind Max, I think, is really, really tight and it's gonna be quite exciting, between ourselves, Ferrari, Aston, and McLaren." [time jump] (NOT SHOWN:) Journalist: "Diego Mejia, Fox Sports Mexico. Both Charles and George, about the issues you had with the cooling, with the brakes and the power unit, is that a worry here? Was it probably the changing conditions in Bahrain that caused that, that we had probably the lowest temperature before the race started and then it was increasing over the race weekend?" George: "Yeah, similar to Charles, it was definitely a bit of an odd one for us, but we're confident we're on top of it and won't face the same issue this weekend."

[simplevanquish]

Let Me Look After You

@sambuckylibrary this is a short thing i made for the freespace o the pink 'loving' card for this sambuckysummer :D Short summary: Bucky loves Sam. What he doesn't love is seeing him so stressed to the point he's ignoring dinner. Rating: Teen and Up

Sam pinches his brow, eyes retracing the same sentence he's read about five times now.

He's reading the words in his head, sure, but everytime it just doesn't seem enough. He can't seem to catch a feeling that he's comprehending any of it beyond face value.

Which, a tiny part of him is trying to tell him that he's alright to move on to the next sentence. Maybe even the next page, wondering why this worn down studybook is even on his desk considering he's got a thick study guide sitting to the side that the professor so generously gave out in an attempt to offer some more help to their students.

Yet Sam still hasn't reached out for it. He's gone through the whole thing multiple times and rechecked his work. The majority of him itches to check it again, but he hasn't read through the book far enough. He doesn't think so, anyway, so he doesn't turn the page yet, he doesn't close it shut, and just tries to focus his brain even more. Attempting even harder at understanding the written material just in case it'll help. It has to help, he thinks.

He's made the progress of two sentences further when there's an abrust orchestra of noises, shuffling of sheets and short huffs from movement. He blinks to his side, catching his boyfriend adjusting his position where he resides on Sam's bed, flipping through a comic book Sam probably picked up when he was fifteen. He scans over it briefly, then fixes his hair after he sets it back down neatly.

"Wanna eat dinner?" He asks, casual, distracted as he leans back into the softness of one of Sam's pillows. He lifts a hand to the ceiling and pretends to throw a dart at the imaginary target he's set in his mind.

Sam looks away from it and blinks down at the mess of papers, sticky notes, and images splayed across the wooden surface of his desk. "Uh, later, Bucky. I'm busy."

Bucky hums. "With what?"

Sam's lips twitch, he glares harder at the words on the page and forces his brain to soak them in. A couple seconds past by and he finishes two more sentences.

"You know what," Sam says, obviously Bucky knows he's too busy with uni. He's got to be prepared when he walks in and takes the final exam. He faintly hears Bucky click his tongue.

The man sighs and crosses his legs, knees hanging off the edge of the bed as he lays on his back. "Busy dreaming about a delicious meal? Some stuffed bell peppers, perhaps?"

Sam carries on reading, restarting the sentence when the voice reading in his head stumbles and says a word twice.

"Pasta," Bucky comments dryly, turning to his side and glancing at Sam who is incredibly hunched in his seat with his finger underneath the line he's currently situated on.

Sam doesn't feel like the sentence is grained in his mind. He reads it again.

"Or we can get Chinese food," Bucky says, voice trailing at the end as he watches Sam's finger tap on the page, brows furrowed in an intense manner. It's clear he's not getting his boyfriend to put down the book by tempting him with meals.

It's silent for a moment, Sam flips the page, and Bucky sighs.

"When do you think you'll be hungry?"

Two more sentences read. Sam clicks his tongue. "Dunno."

Then Sam has to reread the first six letters on the next line, huffing. "Not right now."

"Okay," Bucky mumbles, drawing in his arms to cross them across his chest, planting a foot on the ground. Bucky tilts his head, blue eyes gazing at Sam. "Well, I hope you know you can't keep doing this."

Sam's eyes stop scanning the page for a second, finger pausing. Bucky waits, hoping for an answer, some sort of announcement of defeat, where Sam will give in and go eat with him.

But Sam inches the book closer to his face, a faint frown pulling on his lips. "Doing what?" He asks but not really, Bucky can tell, his tone- this isn't a question. It's a statement of denial.

Bucky huffs. "How many times have you actually eaten dinner recently?"

Sam reads through a sentence flawlessly and shrugs. "Uhm-"

"Not enough," Bucky answers his own question, cutting Sam off as he steps forward.

"Baby, I'm a little busy-"

"You can still take care of yourself," Bucky argues and Sam hangs his head for a second, breathing in.

"I got to do this."

Bucky eyes him carefully, squinting at the crease between his eyebrows, and holds a hand out. "Come eat dinner, Sam."

"I will," Sam says, then looks down at his book. "Later."

Bucky groans. "That means never in your book."

"Actually, my book's about-"

"Sam, I'm trying to help you, dammit." Bucky extends his arms for emphasis, a look of frustration on his face, meeting Sam's eyes when the man finally tilts his head up.

"I'm trying to help myself, Bucky," He defends and Bucky shakes his head.

"No, avoiding eating isn't helping anyone-" Bucky scrunches his nose, taking a second, and setting a hand on Sam's shoulder when he tries to return to reading. "I get that this is important but you need to listen to me."

"But-"

"Sam."

"Bucky, this is important, I need to be prepared," Sam states, holding a hand to his chest, passionate as he places his other hand on the book. "I need to be, okay?"

"You need to eat food like every other human."

"I need you to stop argu-"

"Sam." Bucky tries again.

"Bucky," He copies him.

Bucky stares for a moment, a little lost and very concerned. Currently, it's like it's impossible to make Sam let up, to persuade him to finally eat something. He blinks at Sam, observing his tense stature, and he frowns, noticing the underlying worry behind his partner's eyes.

He breathes in, careful, and hesitates for a second. Then, he braces a hand on Sam's shoulder again. "This isn't healthy, yknow," He whispers and Sam glares extra hard at the page. "Everyone needs a break, even you."

Sam doesn't respond so Bucky leans closer, attempting to make his rough voice as smooth as possible. "You don't have to have a full meal, okay? How about just a snack?"

"Bucky, I don't know," Sam whispers back, tapping the paper to show him where he's at. Then he runs a finger through all the pages. "I've got a lot of stuff I have to do."

"And it will all be waiting for you in a couple minutes, how about that?"

Sam stirs at the offer. There's a heavy hanging silence as he does, weighing it out in his head as Bucky slowly hopes he's managed to slip into his window of convincing Sam, like perhaps this is it, he's got the hook in cheek.

Eventually, after a moment, Sam's whole body deflates as he drops his hands to his lap.

"Just a couple."

And that sounds like first steps, Bucky thinks. It's good. He offers a grateful smile and when Sam stands up, Bucky closes the distance and presses his lips to Sam's, humming with satisfaction when Sam leaves the book behind to redirect them to the kitchen. Of course, not without stealing a bunch more kisses on the way there. 

Progress, Bucky reminds himself as Sam sorta laughs at him for kissing Sam with a 'lovestruck' gaze, as Sam calls it.

Which, sure, that's accurate, Bucky supposes. I wrote it while on the verge of falling asleep cus i'm tired but hopefully it's alright lmao

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: I'm tired of getting sick every month before getting my period why does God hate women -Danny Words: 2,621 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Smoke And Mirrors' -by Imagine Dragons

LIII: Ask Me Again When I'm Mentally Stable

Letting Percy and Leo go together on a mission without her supervision gives her so much anxiety. Her boyfriend and her brother get along, Percy hasn't said much, but he's probably going to support Leo's idea because he's insane like that. Loyalty is his fatal flaw and everything... 

Ara can't relate, she does what she can to help her friends, yes, but at the same time, when the strain of holding onto someone isn't worth it, she relaxes her grip. Leo used to be like that: escaping foster homes, keeping everyone at arm's length—it was only when Ara showed up that he started to have trouble letting go.

"Stop," Jason captures her hand and pulls it away from her forehead. "You'll end up drawing blood."

"I'm anxious and there's nothing to fix..." She glances at the smoke rising from his injury. "Unless I count you as one of my broken toys. Juno said the wound affects your spirit—if you let me try my empath touch..."

"I have to heal myself."

"And you decide to take it as some test?" Ara raises a brow. "Gods, will you ever stop being so Roman?"

Jason smiles. "I think that's literally the problem."

"Ah, so this is another identity crisis?" Ara crosses her arms. "You go through those way too often."

"You and Leo are insufferable," Jason rolls his eyes. "You push people's buttons so we focus on being angry at you instead of your problems."

"Listen, ever since Rome was founded you guys have desperately tried to be like us, so in my opinion, you're the most Roman fella that's ever lived in the last century, I don't see what the fuss is about."

"You're the youngest child of Olympus that's ever existed, the youngest General, and that makes you twice as scary. I know it's easier said than done, but you should follow Eros's advice and—"

"You're currently dying and you're trying to tell me how to live?"

Jason doesn't yield. "You taught me that no one but me gets to decide who I am—you declared yourself daughter of Olympus, so why are you acting like Leo won't make it? Now it's not the time to question willpower."

Ara and Jason hold a staring competition, but Jason's got that stupid wolfish glare, so she can't outdo him. She turns and faces the skyline before her.

"When it was just my life I was handling, it was easy to say that stuff. But I found out stubbornness has messed up multiple lifetimes... Leo's life is on the line, I can't lie just to make myself feel better."

"Who says it's a lie?"

"I can't hold the curse to my way of perceiving the world," she says irritatedly. "Leo's idea is very romantic, but he's not considering the effort it'll take to defeat Gaea, he's underestimating the situation."

"Leo is smarter than that," Jason reasons. "And you know that."

Ara groans. "Wits are nothing if you have nowhere to put them. He doesn't have a solid plan, and the curse is clear: He can't save himself."

"Yeah, and he's not trying to," Jason replies. "He's going to save Calypso and you instead."

Ara hears a thump followed by muffled screams at the other end of the trireme. "Stay here."

"Did you tell Leo about our fighting style?" Percy asks while Frank and Leo take Nike downstairs.

"What?"

"When we were about to fight he said 'I distract, you attack'."

Ara starts going downstairs to look at the goddess. "It doesn't surprise me. Leo's always been more comfortable being a distraction."

Percy follows her. "You two are more similar than I thought. Or he's really similar to who you used to be—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've changed," Ara says grumpily. "Save it."

"No—wait," Percy catches her wrist and stops her. "You have changed, and I thought it was something bad, but not anymore."

"What is your point, Percy?" She presses.

"You grew up," he continues. "And it sucks that I couldn't be there to help you, but it had to be this way. After Bianca, I didn't want you out of sight," his hand remains around her wrist, and Ara can feel his angst. "When Beckendorf died, I thought you hated me, and then Mike died and I... I thought you wanted to get away from me. I got scared and confused, but while I was in Tartarus—"

"You don't have to talk about it—"

"While I was in Tartarus," he insists. "We ran into a herd of arai. The more we slayed, the more curses fell upon me and Annabeth, it was probably one of the scariest moments of my life, but what they say about you in camp, they don't know what they're talking about. You're powerful and resourceful, and they're afraid of that. I was too, but that doesn't make you bad. I'm sorry."

Ara pouts and pulls Percy into a tight hug. "Thank you."

"I want you to be safe," he says, voice muffled by the hug. "I know it's absurd, but you're my little sister. If something bad ever happened to you..."

"I'm sorry too. I knew you loved me, but there was a second voice telling me I didn't matter and I was jealous of how things were just given to you, even if I knew they came at a high price..."

"We used to tell each other everything," he looks down at her. "What happened?"

Ara ponders his question. "You can make mistakes, but in front of your family?" Ara swallows the lump in her throat. "It's like twisting a blade in your gut. We stepped out so we wouldn't bleed in front of each other."

Leo's voice comes from downstairs. "Sunshine, come meet our new buddy!"

Percy clears his throat. "You should go... You and Leo should talk to her."

"You gagged a goddess."

"What you're trying to say is 'Oh my gods, thank you so much for bringing Nike so she can help my hot boyfriend!'," Leo says tauntingly.

"Oh my gods, you guys, thank you for disrespecting another goddess!" Ara replies sarcastically. "Can someone explain the gag?"

"She threatened to curse us," Frank shrugs. "Considering three out of the four people present were already dealing with curses, we decided not to risk it."

Ara crouches next to the goddess. "Lady Nike, I'll take off the gag if you promise not to curse us, yes?"

"Wait," Leo stops her. "Before you do that, there's something you should know."

Ara pulls her hand back and scowls. "What is it? Is her spit deadly or something?"

"She said one of us has to die to defeat Gaea, that it's destined to be that way," Frank says tensely. "Leo believes it's him and... at this point, it makes sense."

"She also said there's a way to defeat death," Leo's eyes are shining. "The Physician's Cure. Ever heard of it?"

Nothing comes to mind. Ara shakes her head. "Is she willing to share more on that?"

"Well, she mentioned a few things—poison, a god's heartbeat, and the curse of Delos..."

Ara raises a brow. "That's where Artemis and Apollo were born." Leo smirks, pleased with how things are lining up to match his plan. "Don't look so proud, the goddess of victory just said you're a prescribed loser."

"I wear the title as a badge of honor," Leo looks at Nike and nods. "Alright, take the gag off."

"I'll gather the others," Frank tells them. "Let's hold a meeting in an hour? So you can tell us what Nike said."

"Yeah, big guy—thank you," Leo pats his shoulder amicably.

"Stop thanking us, we're planning your death," Frank scolds him.

 Ara waves him off. "Don't waste your breath, he enjoys being a martyr."

"You bet I do! Finally, people give me the prince treatment I deserve!"

"Get out of here before you become a murder witness," Ara warns Frank.

"My eyes are closed, General," Frank turns and leaves the stables.

The girl seizes a corner of the tape over the goddess's mouth. "If you place a curse on us, I'll dismantle your wings and use them to rebuild my bronze dragon. Got it?"

The goddess nods, and so Ara removes the tape. Nike complains dramatically, but she doesn't curse them, mostly because she's too busy staring at Ara with hungry eyes. "Daughter of Olympus," the words are like honey in her mouth. "My Greek champion, I'll grant you answers."

"Thank you," Ara says politely. "Tell me about the Physician's Cure."

Nike responds heatedly. "It's a cheap trick. People who die are losers, they shouldn't get a second chance."

"Understandable," she continues patiently. "But you told them that to defeat Gaea, Leo must die. If he dies, then Leo would've won, right? He'd have a right to a reward."

Nike ponders. "Well..."

"Without Leo's death, there would be no victory," Ara continues with charmspeak. "He deserves to come back. It's a big war—bigger than the one my brother and I fought against Kronos. Wouldn't you like to have another Greek champion?"

"That would be nice..." Nike's eyes glisten with longing. 

"Wouldn't that be the ultimate victory, defeating death?"

"Maybe," the goddess's eye twitches. "Yes."

"We'll get you that milestone," Ara says earnestly.

Nike stares at Leo like she can't wait to carve him into the perfect shape. "You'll be my new champion, Leo Valdez?"

"Absolutely," he smiles confidently. "I was born to win."

The minute her consciousness slips into dreamland, Nico Di Angelo pops into view and grabs her shoulder. "You should see this." Ara gets yanked into his dream, standing in the middle of the rec room. "This is from the latest meeting," Nico glares at the teenagers. "You'll love it."

"...Something's wrong."

Jake Mason clears his throat. "Probably this Roman dirt-wipe who's leading the attack—Octavian what's-his-name. If I was Apollo and my descendant was acting that way, I'd go into hiding out of shame."

"I agree," Will sighs. "I wish I was a better archer... I wouldn't mind shooting my Roman relative off his high horse. Actually, I wish I could use any of my father's gifts to stop this war... Unfortunately, I'm just a healer."

"Your talents are essential," Chiron tells him. "I fear we'll need them soon enough. As for seeing the future... what about the harpy Ella? Has she offered any advice from the Sibylline Books?"

"The poor thing is scared out of her wits," Rachel makes a face. "Harpies hate being imprisoned. Ever since the Romans surrounded us... well, she feels trapped. She knows Octavian means to capture her. It's all Tyson and I can do to keep her from flying away."

"Which would be suicide." Butch, son of Iris, grumbles. "With those Roman eagles in the air, flying isn't safe. I've already lost two pegasi."

"At least Tyson brought some of his Cyclops friends to help out," Rachel offers. "That's a little good news."

"A dozen full-grown Cyclopes? That's a lot of good news!" Connor laughs, he's seated next to Lily. "Plus, Lou Ellen and the Hecate kids have been putting up magic barriers, and the whole Hermes cabin has been lining the hills with traps and snares and all kinds of nice surprises for the Romans!"

Jake glares at him. "Most of which you stole from Bunker Nine and the Hephaestus cabin."

"They even stole the landmines from around the Ares cabin," Clarisse complains. "How do you steal live landmines?"

"We commandeered them for the war effort." Connor eats a handful of salt crackers, probably stolen from Jake's secret stash too. "You guys have plenty of toys, you can share! Ara would want you to."

That shuts up Jake and Clarisse. Chiron takes advantage of it. "Grover? What news from the nature spirits?"

"Even on a good day, it's hard to organize nymphs and dryads," Grover looks exhausted. "With Gaia stirring, they're almost as disoriented as the gods. Katie and Miranda from the Demeter cabin are out there right now trying to help, but if the Earth Mother wakes... Well, I can't promise the woods will be safe. Or the hills. Or the strawberry fields. Or—"

"Great." Jake looks at Clovis and shakes him a bit when he starts to close his eyes. "So what do we do?"

"Attack!" Clarisse says, making everyone jump. "The Romans are getting more reinforcements by the day. We know they plan to invade on August first. Why should we let them set the timetable? I can only guess they're waiting to gather more forces. They already outnumber us. We should attack now, before they get any stronger; take the fight to them!"

Lily looks at her brother, asking him to speak as the Athena counselor. "Clarisse, I get your point. But have you studied Roman engineering? Their temporary camp is better defended than Camp Half-Blood. Attack them at their base, and we'd be massacred."

"So we just wait? Let them get all their forces prepared while Gaia gets closer to waking? I have Coach Hedge's pregnant wife under my protection. I am not going to let anything happen to her. I owe Hedge my life. Besides, I've been training the campers more than you have, Malcolm. Their morale is low. Everybody is scared. If we're under siege another nine days—"

"We should stick to Annabeth's plan." Connor tries to control Clarisse's frustration. "We have to hold out until she gets that magic Athena statue back here."

"You mean if that Roman praetor gets the statue back here," Clarisse scoffs. "I don't understand what Annabeth was thinking, collaborating with the enemy. Even if the Roman manages to bring us the statue—which is impossible—we're supposed to trust that will bring peace? The statue arrives and suddenly the Romans lay down their weapons and start dancing around, throwing flowers? Ara once gave me crap for not standing on business, and I won't disappoint her a second time."

"Don't hold onto the stuff she said before becoming a General," Lily speaks at last. "We haven't heard from her in a month—"

"Are you suggesting we listen to you?" Clarisse snaps. "For that to happen, you'd need to speak up, Saggio."

Lily's cheeks flush. "Well, isn't that what I'm doing? I know none of you believe Ara is the camp's curse, but I also know some of you are blinded by your personal history with her—"

"Mostly you..." Jake mumbles.

Lily's voice gets a little drier. "I might've argued with Ara but I'm still second in command. I think it nonsensical to consider what she'd do when she's not here—she won't be here on time to deal with this, so we should be thinking for ourselves. I agree with Clarisse, that statue might not fix things..."

She looks at the older girl, Lily is one of the few people Clarisse treats like a fighter of her range, which sometimes can be funny, considering Lily barely reaches her shoulder.

"But we won't attack. Throwing the first punch is never a good idea, and Romans are A-class bullies who know fear is the best tool for prompt subjugation, don't let them trick you into digging our grave."

Clarisse scrutinizes Lily as if searching for the best area to stab her, but eventually, she gives in. "Birdy and I go a long way back, I do not want to fail her like I failed her sister... If you think this is the way..."

Rachel leans forward. "Annabeth and Ara know what they're doing. We have to try for peace. Unless we can unite the Greeks and Romans, the gods won't be healed. Unless the gods are healed, there's no way we can kill the giants. And unless we kill the giants—"

"Gaia wakes," Connor makes a face. "Game over. Look, Clarisse, Annabeth sent me a message from Tartarus. From fricking Tartarus. Anybody who can do that... hey, I listen to them."

"And let's not forget that in Lily's latest dream, Ara was fighting three immortals at once—and she was winning," Jake raises a brow. "If stalling gives her time to come back and end this, then heck, I'm nothing but stale."

Lily frowns. "That's... not the best analogy, but thank you, Jake." The girl shows him a brief smile that doesn't go unnoticed by Connor, who glares at Jake as he stuffs more salt crackers in his mouth.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

[thebreadvansstuff]

The classic "shut up" and "make me"

"Okay, so the pair of electrons is delocalized right... here," Louis says as he draws a circle around one corner of the hexagon he has drawn on his notebook.

Harry tilts his head, understanding absolutely nothing about the shape, or the notes Louis has written down.

"Now, there's Huckel's rule for aromaticity, yeah? So you gotta -" Louis stops talking and glances up at Harry. "You're not following, are you?"

Harry falls back into his chair with a shrug. "I have zero clue about what you're doing there."

Louis sighs heavily. "Harry, we have been over this so many times before," he says.

"Lou, I told you, I'm hopeless. I'll just leave chemistry for next year, no biggie," Harry explains, resigned.

"But I can help you, baby. You just need to focus on me for thirty minutes, and then it'll be much easier, okay?" Louis suggests.

Harry exhales, crossing his arms. It's not the first time Louis has dragged him to the kitchen table, had him sit down and asked him to pay attention to things that were absolutely unintelligible.

Louis probably takes Harry's silence as a yes, since he proceeds to explain Huckel's rule all over again, and Harry has half the mind to roll his eyes at him.

He does appreciate the time and effort Louis puts into attempting to help him, but Harry thinks there is no point in trying anymore.

From his back pocket, Harry grabs his pack of gum and pops one into his mouth.

"With me so far?" Louis asks.

"Mhm..." Harry hums, anything to reach the end of this lecture. He chews, and puts all his attention into blowing the perfect bubble.

Finally, he succeeds, but then the bubble pops with a loud sound that has Louis' head snapping up.

"Harry!" he reprimands.

"What?" Harry asks mid-chew. "It's just gum. Am I not allowed to have one in class, professor?" he mocks, blinking innocent eyes at Louis.

"Stop that!" Louis scolds. "Focus, Harry, Jesus!"

Harry scoffs, but looks down at the notes again. As Louis goes on and on about electrons and orbitals, Harry's mind wanders to his own words, mere seconds ago.

He's not sure what drives him to say it out loud, especially when Louis is already so clearly aggravated, but he is constantly pushing his limits.

"Can't we take a break, professor?"

Louis clenches his jaw, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not playing this game," he says.

"Oh come on..." Harry drags out, chewing his gum loudly. "Please, sir, just a little break."

Harry pouts for emphasis, and Louis fixes him with a death stare. Harry brings one hand to Louis' shoulder, dragging his fingernails down his arm, and watching in satisfaction as they raise goosebumps in their wake.

"I'll do anything, professor..." he says, biting his lip.

"Shut up," Louis says.

The frustration is evident on his face, but so is his blush.

"Make me," Harry challenges.

Thirty minutes and a thorough spanking later, Louis' notes are covered in come and Harry is panting "I think failure is a done deal."

Louis pinches Harry's bruised ass, and quips, "Well, I hope you won't use the same method to bribe the professor."

Send me a line, and I'll write a snippet! - NSFW edition!

[lifes-extension-lottery]

Sandpaper and Paprika

(Forgot the back of Papyrus' scarf so pretend it's there, it'll be there every other time I draw him I promise)

Next will probably be Alphyne I just need to figure out how to incorporate alphys'..... Entire fucking design... Into splatoon

I've done the more thing but I've never done it before so if it breaks I'll fix it as best I can after posting

Edit: it fuckign works holy shitballs

﹏���﹏

New Lab Log 1; New Ink Type Discovery

Researchers; Dr.Gaster, Dr.Alphys, Dr.Sans,

While searching through files and labs from the recently recovered ruins from a sort of previous civilization, we discovered research of a new kind of ink. In it's files it was labeled "Sanitization Ink"

We have yet to test this new ink, or recreate it, but Dr.S has said he has found something that may help us with this. He is yet to disclose this information, but we trust his judgement so we will let him figure it out himself in his own time.

-Dr. G

﹋﹋﹋

﹏﹏﹏

All the characters ive done or are in progress (traffic light scale)

🟠Flowey

🟢Frisk

🟢Toriel

🟢Sans

🟢Papyrus

🟡Undyne

🔴Alphys

🔴Mettaton (Octoweapon) [soul??? Sanitized octo inside?? I'll figure it out]) 

🔴Napstablook (holy fuck???? How???)

🔴MadMewMew (Codename: Kitty) (same as metta)

🔴Grillby ( •◡• )

🔴Gaster (unstable sanitized octoling)

🔴Asgore

🔴Amalgamates (sanitized Octos)

🔴Asriel

🔴Chara

🔴Other souls (help what the fuck)

[asksoldieron]

SO-12: The Spirit of Harpo Marx

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for Alight at the Window (SO-12) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Awwwwww, ya know? Awwwwww ❤️!

Poor Erik is in ⚡🔋no shape🔋⚡ to communicate, but he's doing his best. Maggie has no idea whether he's messing with her on purpose, or what's wrong with him, but she won't let him go. They'll get to him eventually. (I've just finished that part, actually. They've got him! Uh. Sorta. At least he's... safe now? 😅Oh, I can't say that with a straight face.)

This is the last of my queued posts/instalments, and I have no idea where my reading and drawing ability will be when it goes live. If I can't update you on my condition (and the condition of the next six instalments) I'll hafta have the spouse type a note for me. I want to do six more right away, or I might take a two week break, or - if I'm really struggling - it'll be a break of indeterminate length. I hope I'll be okay to just keep going, my Patrons have been so patient this year. Thanks, y'all.

But, either way, there will be a break at some point, because I'll have a while where I can't write or draw and that's going to eat up my backlog. Also, recent updates have done more stupid things to my theme and I think the site needs a redesign - maybe including some radical simplification. I'm just not mobile friendly and I can't make the current format behave. People with better eyesight than me do a lot of reading on their phones.

I have no idea how to build a community and I'm flailing, really, but maybe if I can get the interface more convenient, more people will like me? (I have no idea. Probably they won't.)

Look, though! You've got some extra art to tide you over! And a song!

I'm not in love with how Erik's design looks right now - he looks like a train wreck, but he should look like a train wreck. Nobody is going to fix his hair. I still feel self-conscious about it. He used to be cute. I've got to do a full-body rendering of how he'll clean up, but I don't have time for it now.

However, I did do a page of something trying to get comfortable with his ability to emote in train reck form. I don't have time to finish it, but I think it looks cool so I'm sharing.

This is potentially a way for me to serve you the music without lyric backgrounds that you can't read! It's very labour-intensive, but I was figuring out how to do it and it might get a little easier with practice. Also, my current tablet is struggling with the resolution and I plan to update it by the end of the year - depending on sale prices.

After I saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch, I found out the original Off-Broadway incarnation had filked music with lyrics by John Cameron Mitchell. 🥹😊I'm calling it! This is something other people sharing my identity do to tell their stories! Filk musicals are an enby thing! We do not give a shit about the music industry's copyrights! I'm performing nonbinary correctly!

So here's the lyrics again, and maybe I'll give you the rest in comic form as my vision and my tools improve.

You Are Found! (based on "We Are Young" by fun.) I need a minute, I… I don’t know if I’m ready yet I’m tryin’ to get my shit together, Maggie, please don’t be upset My family must be looking for me somewhere very near Guess I knew you must be coming but I can’t believe you’re here, and… It’s been forever since I’ve seen your face I know you want to take me home But although it hurts to do this work they need my help for what it’s worth —  Oh, gods I’m not sure if I wanna go So maybe if, next time you see me, You can take me by the hand, You’ll steal me away At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down No, I wanna go home I’m just not done I guess that I, I just hoped We could visit and I’d get right back to work But I can’t go yet So I must forget 'Cause I think you’ll hafta steal me away At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down Steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Come steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Come steal me away at last (na na na na na na) The gods have their own plan (na na na na na na) But I’m just one weary man (na na na na na na) So you're gonna hafta steal me away at last (na na na na na na) I have so much to do (na na na na na na) How can I go with you? (na na na na na na) So you're gonna hafta steal me away (na na na na na na) At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down So maybe if, next time you see me, You can take me by the hand You’ll steal me away at last

See you soon! Ha, I hope!

Late edit: Two week break, folks. No drawing ability yet, so we're stuck with it. I still hope to get you the next six by the end of the year. I'll keep you posted!

[Back to Site?]

[fountainpenguin]

"See, I am a legend and I always win! The stars in the cosmos, they bow to my whim!" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 24 - “Jolt (Cleo, Scott)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Martyn buries Cleo alive while talking about pacing structure and roleplay plot points. Also, Mayor Scott gets a reality check about running a utopian server hub that no one ever leaves.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

ZombieCleo - Zombie

Status: Mentally stimulated

Historian, museum curator, and stadium gamemaster

💙  🧡  💚

They're up in the tunnels, lying on their back on exposed tweenstone while the opals glitter in the walls above them. It's dead dark in here. She's got decent night vision and Martyn probably does too. Glowing eyes do help with that. She's got dirt coating most of her body. Martyn's patting more into place and really going off on a long-winded spiel. Yeah, he does that. Cleo rests with one hand on her stomach and lets him talk. Martyn just wants someone to talk to and she just wants to touch the loamy black soil outside the perimeter. They have to do this together or not at all.

"-enough foreshadowing, d'you think?" Martyn makes a vague swirl with his hand. "I mean, when I look at the storyboards, it seems a little bathtub-y, but I wanted to have fun with it. I think I can swing it- It's better to have fun."

"Mmhm," she says. "I mean, if you want to avoid info-dumping, tension's always going to be the best fix. The first thing I think of is just… Adding weapons. Or maybe slide the scene somewhere else, like a cliff. Or maybe you have a build or private room the viewers have never seen inside before, so it feels exciting even if it's full of talking."

"There's a thought!"

"Or- or, here's an idea- Give them a solid reason they can't actually leave. It doesn't even have to be physical restraints, right? Maybe one character has an item the other wants. Maybe it's just information. Or someone's hurt? You have that whole treasure-hunting schtick going on, right? Adding a collectible to the mix could amp the stakes."

"Oh, that's good. I like that… Withholding information is killer, dude."

"Not too much, though."

"No, no! It'll be clear well before the end. Hmm. Maybe it just needs a pacing restructure. A little more to draw things out, yeah? I might slip in an extra scene upfront that doesn't look important at the time, but should really tie things together down the road." He sprinkles dirt around her neck, making some stupid drawn-out show of it just because it gets his wings up, apparently. Cleo sticks out their tongue. He laughs, giving the wings a flap. "Ooh, actually- You know that respawn idea I had last Friday? What are your Week 2 thoughts on that?"

"Kill your darlings. Not the character- I mean the scene. Just opt for a near-death experience instead. I think the punch will hit harder."

"What hits harder than a respawn?"

Cleo shrugs, which waterfalls black dirt down their shoulders and across Martyn's skinned knees. "I mean, delays don't do you any good. You'll have dead space anyway because of all that travel time to get back to the main scene. Remember your Limited Life ending with the lava buckets? Just work around it. Set it up so you can stay around, even if you're injured. Respawns feel like cheating anyway- I mean, they refresh you back to full energy. It's a little cheap."

Martyn exhales. It leaves him like a swirl. "Hmm… Yeah, I can see that."

"Just think about it, at least. You don't have to throw the scene out."

"Yeah, I know. I do see your point. Spawn is so far away." He takes the spilled dirt and pats it into place again, pressing on the wrinkles until the stuff is sealed against her like a freshly frosted chocolate cake. "The thing is, I feel like I'm getting nowhere with the storyboards. I think I need to get into the dialogue. Maybe do some test drafts. A few bullet points, at least. I'll run them by you again next week and we can do a pros and cons list."

"Mmhm!"

That seems to satisfy him. See, Martyn likes to talk through plot points without spilling spoilers to the people he actually roleplays with. And he's always hungry. These are the two most important facts you need to know about Martyn, at least as far as Cleo and the gemstone cave are concerned. See, so long as they only allofeed him snippets at a time, he'll patiently wait until she's run out of souls to share before he finally takes her out. Even when she's well down in the depths of phantom hour, he'll let her push the boundary. Maybe farther than he should. Throw a soul in front of a phantom and you'll really wreck their aggro.

It's a balance of carrots and sticks. It's yin and yang. It's push and pull. Teamwork is essential. She never would've managed to carve out this secret cave without Martyn's wings lifting her past the bullet path moat or into the ceiling tunnel. Scott can poke around all he wants, but unless he thinks to look up, he's never going to find her hideaway.

The thing is, Martyn can whisk his help away any time he likes. At any time. He didn't withdraw when Double Life split them apart, though Cleo firmly told him chatting about Double Life was off the table the first time he opened his mouth. The third time, maybe. Sure, he whined and groveled about roleplay decompression for a bit (for "the" bit?), but she gave him a cornflower from her hair that he can keep in Between to match the one she gave him on the server. That's all the "We're okay; it's just a game" aftercare he really wanted. He eased up.

He never wore it, though, even though it was the start of the 100-day block back then, which is… confusing. She dropped by his and Jimmy's place once for a game night though, and there it was… in a vase. And honestly, it doesn't get any more clear than that: Thanks for the gift! Your friendship's important to me, but I reject your courtship. I'll keep it as a memento to show there's nothing weird between us, but I'm not wearing this. I don't want you to get the wrong idea.

Martyn's full of wrong ideas. He does what he thinks is "funny." That's the polite way to put it. And since hanging out with Martyn in the caves is really just a business transaction, she should probably make an effort to be polite.

"What's so funny?" he asks, looking up from her dirt-covered arm.

"Bad joke."

"Share or it didn't happen."

Cleo blinks up, his form in shadow apart from the lapis-like glow of his eyes. "I gave you a flower a while back. During Double Life."

"Yeah?"

"You never wore it, but I saw it in your room. Just thought it was funny to interpret that as you saying 'I don't want Cleo to get the wrong idea' when you're full of wrong-"

"Whoa, whoa," he says, throwing his hands in the air. Cleo snorts and Martyn tsk-tsks, thwacking his tail against the dirt. "And this when I'm putting dirt on you."

"I do appreciate that, yeah."

He slaps the next clump down hard. Cleo jolts, but the glitter in his eyes tells them straight away that he's not really mad. "I can't believe that's what you think of me even in your private thoughts. And after all this time!"

"I'm petty, rude, and I commit to the bit. I'm not sure why you're surprised."

"I'm not."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[starl1t-vo1d]

Where home lies

Revalink prompt, Keep breathing / home - general rating

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

I struggled with this one not gonna lie, I actually scrapped my first draft bc I had started to write one of them having a nightmare and the other reassuring that they were okay and just at home but it didn't work out. I don't love the ending of this but it's okay. As per usual better description on ao3 and the rest is under the read more.

"Keep breathing."

Link was trying but it was growing increasingly hard to focus on anything but the nearness of his trainer.

"You shouldn't be holding your breath when you draw or fire, you'll be too tense as a result." 

There was a push on his shoulders coaxing him to relax them. 

"And it'll make your shoulders rise."

He felt his face heat up as very soft feathers brushed against him.

"Link!"

Link jumped accidentally letting loose the arrow he was supposed to be aiming. It stuck into the edge of the target, two points.

"-I understand that you need your hands free to respond properly but it seemed like you weren't paying attention at all! Honestly, I go out of my way to help you and you can't even be bothered to focus," Revali was looking at him and Link came to the conclusion that he was probably waiting for a response.

"Sorry," Link set the bow on the ground making Revali wince, that was mostly to get back at him for scolding him otherwise Link would have put it on his back. 

Revali clicked his beak shaking his head. "Whatever is going on in that tiny head of yours please do try to put it aside, the sun is setting." 

"So?" Link looked around, and yeah shadows were quickly overtaking the Flight Range as the sun dipped lower.

"What? What do you mean 'So?' I would like to go home at one point." 

"But it has to be before nightfall?" Link asked, "What are you afraid of the dark?" 

"That's ridiculous of course I'm not," Revali replied with a scoff.

"So then?"

"Will this information make you get back to training faster?"

Link shrugged, and gestured for Revali to continue.

"If you must know," Revali rolled his eyes. "Rito by nature can't not see well in dim lighting and unfortunately I've yet to train enough that I would feel comfortable displaying what I have learned in front of anyone." 

Link wanted to laugh, leave it to Revali to want to train pass genetics. Still, the end of what he said seemed sincere and that wasn't something Link would laugh at so he simply nodded.

"Understandable, this will be the last round of arrows then." 

“And you’re going to focus this time?”

This time Link did laugh. “Yes, I’ll focus.”

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

Link didn’t focus. As the training continued he found it hard to between growing tired and Revali taking it upon himself to physically fix Link’s form.

“Your shoulders.”

Revali once again settled his wings on Link’s shoulders applying gentle pressure so that Link relaxed them. 

“Take a deep breath and re-adjust your aim, fire on the exhale.”

As the arrow lodges itself into the target Link thinks that it should have hit Bullseye, but Revali’s hands are still on his shoulders and it ends up slightly left of center. Link yawns and lowers his bow.

“You are doing a passable job,” Revali says, finally stepping away.

That’s a compliment coming from him, and as Link heads back into the Flight Range hut to put his things away Revali falls into step next to him.

“Did your elixir wear off?” He suddenly asks, making Link turn to him.

“No? Why?”

Revali only squints at him before shaking his head, “Nevermind. Do you have a moment to come collect something? I have a book that while you certainly don’t have the time to read through it all, looking through a few pages might do you well.”

Link feels his face heat up under the Rito’s scrutiny and he prays to Hylia that the dim lighting keeps him from seeing the pink that dusts his cheeks. “Do you mean… like at your house?”

“No, I mean from the Flight Range, yes the book is at my house otherwise I wouldn’t have asked if you were willing to make the detour.” 

Link stifles another yawn and nods, “Yeah that’s fine, it’s not like super out of the way is it?”

“No, hardly it’s towards the top of the village.”

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

The trek back to Rito Village is filled with yawns from Link and idle chatter that the Hylian is only half paying attention to from Revali. Link is mostly only paying attention to the sound of Revali’s voice versus what he is actually saying and it isn’t until it’s suddenly gone that Link tunes back in entirely.

“Sorry, did you ask me something?”

“Are you sure you can collect the book tonight? You seem… distracted and tired. I can pass it off to you tomorrow morning before you leave if you’d rather.” Revali asks, and again he’s looking at Link too closely.

“It’s fine,” Link waves a dismissive hand.

“Do all Hylians grow tired this quickly? Or is it just you?”

Link shrugs, “Do all Rito act like they’re better than everyone else?” Link might be a bit too tired, his usual reserve gone. 

“I am in a lot of aspects, did you already forget who just spent the last several hours training you?”

Link definitely did not forget the last several hours and he felt his face heat up again.

“Thank you for taking the time.”

“It’s only right you learn from the best, besides if I’m meant to go into battle with you I’d prefer you be well-trained.”

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

Revali’s house is… neat for lack of a better word. But neat in a way that’s less like the occupant takes the time to make it so and more in a way that implies it’s rarely used. Link stands very awkwardly to the side as Revali looks for the book he had mentioned. Revali trills to himself as he scans a small bookshelf and Link tries very hard not to fall asleep on his feet. 

“Ah here it is,” Revali’s voice snaps Link’s eyes back open.

Link is presented with… a book? Honestly, in Link’s opinion, it looks more like papers haphazardly still held together. It’s so worn with either age, use, or some combination of both that the cover is faded beyond being able to read it.

“What is it about?” Link asks, before taking it.

“A bit of everything really, it has a glossary of archery terms and techniques, and there are chapters on different equipment and how to care for it…” Revali trails off his feathers fluffing in what Link now recognizes is embarrassment. “Please feel free to ignore the notes in the margins.”

Link immediately flips the book open to look for them. 

The book is immediately closed by Revali’s hands over his own.

“You were just falling asleep on your feet, you surely can’t focus enough to read it now.”

There’s a stand-off for a moment as Revali doesn’t step away and with Link’s hands held under his wings, Link can’t respond. Finally, Revali seems to realize what he’s doing and quickly draws his hands away. 

“You should go rest. Return the book whenever I hardly need it now.” Revali takes several steps back and Link notes that his feathers haven’t settled. 

“Thank you, I will make sure I take care of it.”

“Please do.”

Later when Link is squinting at the book in lantern light, dimmed as much as possible so as to not disturb the others in the inn he realizes that the reason Revali’s house didn’t seem much like a home is because his true home lay in whoever he was allowed to share his love for archery with. 

[duskwood-by-daylight]

Lunch Date

Summary: The day after meeting the boys at the bar, Taylor comes over for lunch and a chat.

Warnings: cursing, little bit of angst, Marco is still a turd

Word count: 1050ish

A/N: I am so stinkin proud of myself for finally getting this posted. It took an embarrassing amount of time to fix. As always, 18+, minors DNI. Don't steal or copy or whatever. Feedback always very much appreciated.

Marco's offer rolls around your mind as you try to find a satisfactory way to tell Taylor. They finally started being friends again. I can't tell Taylor, it'll break his heart that Marco is still trying to do this shit, even after everything. I can't be responsible for that. Even if it isn't my fault, the messenger is usually guilty by association.

By the next afternoon, you've almost given up on the matter when Taylor offers to come over with lunch and pictures of his new work project. He's too excited for you to say anything but yes.

You really mean to bring it up the moment he walks in your door, but he's too happy for you to ruin his mood, even if you really don't understand what he's talking about.

"And I'll be going to Europe for a week to help oversee the project! You could come with me."

Your heart cracks a little, seeing his genuine happiness and how everything is finally getting better for him, only for his crappy "best friend" to start this shit again. "I wish I could, babe. Maybe next time."

"For sure!" Then he's off again, gleefully explaining why they chose him to go out of everyone.

After lunch, he finally notices you aren't paying much attention, "Is something wrong? I know this is probably boring to you, but you look distracted, almost worried. Is it because I'm leaving?"

"I just… looking at you." You try to wave him away but he isn't one to be deterred.

He drops his phone on the couch, gently taking your hand. "Listen, whatever it is, you can tell me… if you're comfortable. If it's personal, you can tell me to fuck off and I won't get upset, but if it's something I can help with, I'd like to know."

"Marco wants to date me." You didn't mean to blurt it out so plainly but it's too late to take it back.

Taylor raises an eyebrow, "That isn't exactly breaking news, lover."

"No, babe. He… the other night at the bar… when you left, he walked me to my car. He wants one real, honest, date and if I do it and we don't work out, he'll drop it. He'll finally let me go."

"Sounds like a win-win for you, love." Taylor considers, still keeping your hand in his, his thumb idly drawing circles over your palm. He wants to consider your possible feelings in this situation, "We aren't technically official, right?"

You KNOW he didn't intend those words to sting, but goddamn if they don't hurt. "I mean… I guess not."

Taylor catches the change in your tone and grabs your shoulders, turning you to face him completely. "Hey! No! I didn't mean it like that. Fuck, I’m terrible at this.” He stares at the ceiling, taking a few deep breaths to compose himself before continuing, “Look, if we're gonna be together, I don't want there to be any doubt or questions or loose ends. I don't want you to wonder what could have been. Five years from now, I don't want Marco declaring his undying affection for you two days before our wedding and you running off with him. If we're going to end up together, I want it to be 100%, all in."

Somehow his words are like a balm over the previous cut. You want nothing more than to lean over and kiss him, but you know this is a conversation that must be had. "So you actually want me to date Marco? Is that what you're saying?"

"Taylor… that's the single most stupid thing anyone on this planet has ever said. Ever. And we share a planet with Kevin Sorbo."

"No. I want you to date me, but I need you to be sure you wouldn't rather be with Marco. I… I can't go through that again. I don't want anything like that hanging over us. It’s selfish of me to just expect you to be with me and unlike what Marco and Sally did to me, I want you to have a choice… even if it hurts me, even if I don’t win.” The rest of his statement is visible on his face, “Even if you pick Marco.”

"Just… humor me, okay?"

Instinct says no, absolutely fucking not, but Taylor looks so completely genuine and honest and wonderful, emerald eyes gazing warmly at you, how could I ever tell him no? "If I do this, you have to go on a date with Sally." Taylor pales and shakes his head, but you cut him off. "Oh no. This street goes both ways and if one of us has to, we're both gonna do it. We need to set some ground rules first." You squeeze both of his hands, "We're casually dating, right? Not exclusive?"

"Correct."

"So if you fall in love with Sally or another girl and decide she's the light of your life, I promise to not have entirely negative feelings."

"Not entirely?" He grins a little and you feel your heart melt.

"Oh, I'll be super pissed for at least a day. Maybe two."

"And the same goes for you. If you fall madly in love with Marco, I'll step aside. Not gladly, but I'll accept it. So as of now, we’re officially on pause, not together, single."

The room is quiet for a moment while the two of you contemplate the parameters of this arrangement. A frown is growing on his handsome face, "What is it?"

"I don't like this."

"I don't either."

He sighs, kissing the backs of your hands, "One date. I’m not doing this because he wants to date you. I’m doing this for you, for your happiness, for a possible us… but fuck, if this doesn’t feel terrible."

Smiling at him, you finally relent. Maybe one date with Marco won’t be the end of the world. He has expensive tastes, so there’s a good chance you’ll get a fun night out of this. "Okay. I'll agree to one date. One." His forced smile is too much and you release his hand, grabbing his shirt collar and jerking him into a kiss, "But I already know who I want."

"It's Marco, isn't it?" He grins stupidly against your lips and you have time to roll your eyes before he kisses you again.

[sunskate]

Lake Placid recap-

in the senior Champs competition, i loved both Katarina Wolfkostin/Dimitry Tsarevski and Isabella Flores/Ivan Desyatov--

it must be some combination of program, new partner and everything Katarina went through this year, because she looked more confident and like she was feeling herself in a new way. this pairing just looks like a better fit. i love a tango FD, and this is a good one for them

Isabella and Ivan were really lovely in their FD - credit to Kaitlyn Weaver for the choreo, too - West Side Story is done a lot, but they picked the youthful, softer and optimistic songs from it, and it felt fresh and effortlessly natural on them - Isabella's a talented performer. and you'd never guess both of them were nursing injuries. hope they heal up before the next one

the one hitch in a well run event was that the the announcer stumbled over and slaughtered SO MANY names. had done ZERO homework. you'd think she'd never watched skating before or met anyone from other countries

in the senior international:

Diana and Gleb - with not being able to compete last season, their Swan Lake FD felt more polished, like they'd had more time with it, plus that first lift is pretty impressive. many of the skaters warm up in the concourse above and behind the judges and audience, so they are right there among everyone -- Diana was up there before the FD but found a nook by herself and looked like she was feeling SO much pressure

at practice that morning, she and Gleb sometimes practiced twizzles with arms pulled in with extremely fast rotations (but not covering that much ice) - reminded me of Eteri's girls and how they get speed on their jump rotations. in the actual program, they didn't quite do them the same way? idk why they'd practice differently than they perform

the Browns- they skated before D/S, and she fell early on and was so upset, though they rallied well. they're good performers and very intense and expressive. they look stronger than last season, these programs seem in their wheelhouse. the camera can hide a bit that the lobes they're drawing on the ice are small. D/S are a bit this way too

the team that surprised me by contrast in how they cover ice was Lanaghan/Razgulajevs - there were parts of their FD where they were drawing deep and big curves on the ice. her performance default sometimes looks like a beauty pageant smile- they used that last season in their FD where she played a doll, but it can feel a bit like a mask in other settings

oh i see i misidentified Pate and Bye's music the other day - that's embarrassing- i've played both those pieces lol sorry - they're similar stylistically, but they're such big works, there's no excuse, i just wasn't thinking

Bashynska/Beaumont's Romeo & Juliet is beautiful - it feels again like their team really believes in them and is giving them material that can help them make an impression and rise in 🇨🇦. (Soucisse/Firus were smart to switch). without Peter’s fall in the RD they probably could have finished 4th/5th. the opening position with her curled around him and the way they end with their arms making the same infinity sign shape as the start reminded me of the way Chock/Bates's FD from last season starts and ends with her curled around him. there were also many drag split moves in this competition - C/B inspired lots of teams i guess 😅

then McNamara/Spirodonov's FD felt like a sequel to their FD from last season --that was red, this was blue-green and similar in tone- one of the pieces was by the same composer - maybe it'll be a trilogy like the Shibutanis Coldplay

and Ling/Wein- part way through their FD, something that looked like a strap started dangling off his ankle, and it was nerve wracking to watch- the referee finally had the music stopped after nearly a minute and called them to the boards to fix it. but 5 point deduction?? that seems excessively harsh