Aomine

₊⊹ "Let me be clear. I don't like you. I don't trust you. And I will absolutely work with you because the alternative is worse."

₊⊹ "I need you to do something that is technically illegal and morally complicated and I need you to stop asking questions." -- "That's my whole personality though."

₊⊹ "We want different things for completely different reasons and right now those reasons point in the same direction. Let's not overthink it."

₊⊹ "You cover my blind side I cover yours. We don't have to like each other for geometry to work."

₊⊹ "I've fought you three times." -- "Four." -- "You counted." -- "Professionally yes." -- "...Fine. Four. You're better than I told anyone." -- "You're worse than your reputation. That's a compliment."

₊⊹ "If anyone asks we never did this." -- "Agreed." -- "And you owe me." -- "I was going to say you owe me." -- "We'll discuss it when we're not about to die." -- "Fair."

₊⊹ "Can I trust you?" -- "No. But I need this to work as much as you do. That's better than trust."

₊⊹ "Don't go soft on me because we're on the same side temporarily." -- "Don't flatter yourself. You're a tool I'm using." -- "Good. Same." --"...Good."

Bad writing means you took the time to write something, you, a real human being. It means you created something! And you have the awareness to see that there's room for improvement, too!!!

Bad writing is wonderful!!! Bad writing is a platform from which you can build your masterpiece! Bad writing is the backbone of good writing!

Give yourself permission to write badly. No, actually- give yourself permission to write something TERRIBLE. Give yourself permission to write such drivel that you can barely read it.

Nothing comes out a masterpiece the first time!! You think Isaac Asimov never wrote a total stinker he had to rebuild from the ground up? You think Jules Verne never wrote utter slop for a first draft?

𐙚⋆.˚ The smell that hits before anything is seen 

𐙚⋆.˚ How a room feels different at 3am vs. 3pm 

𐙚⋆.˚ The sound that's only noticeable when everything else goes quiet 

𐙚⋆.˚ Light quality, yellow and warm vs. cold and fluorescent 

𐙚⋆.˚ The thing that's slightly wrong about an otherwise normal space 

𐙚⋆.˚ Temperature as mood (the specific chill of a hospital, the thick heat of a fight) 

𐙚⋆.˚ What a space says about the person who lives in it 

𐙚⋆.˚ The background noise that tells you exactly where you are 

𐙚⋆.˚ Weather that mirrors without being too obvious about it 

𐙚⋆.˚ The one detail a character notices that reveals what they're looking for 

𐙚⋆.˚ How familiar places look different after something changes 

𐙚⋆.˚ The texture of things: rough, worn, too-new, cold metal 

𐙚⋆.˚ Empty spaces that feel occupied. Occupied spaces that feel hollow. 

𐙚⋆.˚ The way sound travels differently in grief vs. joy 

𐙚⋆.˚ Objects that carry history without explaining it 

𐙚⋆.˚ The specific ugly of a beautiful place when you're in the wrong mood 

𐙚⋆.˚ Noticing the exit first (what that says about a character) 

𐙚⋆.˚ The before-storm stillness applied to non-weather moments 

𐙚⋆.˚ How a space shrinks when tension fills it 

Doll design

Longing From Afar Prompts

✭ watching them laugh with someone else and feeling your heart reach toward them like a plant straining for sunlight it knows it will never touch.

✭ the way your eyes always find them in a room, like your heart installed a tracking chip and didn’t ask permission.

✭ them brushing past you with a polite smile, completely unaware that the single second of eye contact was the brightest moment of your week.

✭ rereading old messages from them, not to torture yourself (okay maybe a little), but because their words still feel like warmth trapped in pixels.

✭ catching the ghost of their perfume in a hallway and stopping, breath stolen, because for half a second it felt like they were right there.

✭ pretending not to notice them while memorizing every detail. How they tuck their hair, how they fidget with their sleeves, how their laugh rises and falls.

✭ sitting across the room, both of you immersed in your own worlds, but every now and then they look up and your heart stumbles over itself because they almost smiled at you.

Prompts for writing eyes like that

✧ Her eyes had that warm, earthy tone that made you feel like you’d known her in another life.

✧ His eyes had that calm, rich brown that reminded you of a place you’ve never been but somehow miss anyway. Familiar in a way that didn’t make sense.

✧ His eyes held that soft, earthy darkness that somehow made everything he said sound a little more meaningful.

✧ Her gaze carried that familiar, warm-earth hue people overlook until they realize it’s the one that feels like home.

✧ Her irises held this grounded brown that felt like truth, even when her words didn’t. A color that didn’t need to shine to be seen.

✧ His eyes were the kind of brown that didn’t try to catch the light, but did anyway. Not because they were bright, but because they watched everything.

✧ Her eyes were dark in a way that wasn’t cold, more like the sky before a meteor shower, waiting for something to fall.

✧ Her eyes had that deep, grounded color that felt ancient, like she’d been carrying a whole universe in them before the rest of us caught up.

✧ Her eyes were that deep, unknowable brown you only see in old forests. Shadowy but alive, full of things you couldn’t name.

✧ Her eyes were so dark you couldn’t tell where the color ended and the thought began, a depth that made you ask questions you weren’t ready to hear answers to.

✧ Her gaze was a deep, ink-dark brown that softened only when she laughed. A rare crack in otherwise steady darkness.