#I’ll explain it more on some future post

[espighty]

Scuffed-ass COTL height chart where I don’t even tell you their heights, I just show you how tall they are relative to each other. If they share an arrow they are basically the same height. Most normal followers can be expected to reside in the general area of ‘above lamb but just below Kallamar’.

This is also the most useless chart ever because I didn’t even show what most of ‘em look like body-wise ghhhh it’s ONLY relative height. I should be thrown in prison

[schlushiii]

Welcome to I am now gonna draw moments throughout my Pokémon black 2 playthrough!!!

[cobbled-peach]

proposal(s)

aka: the four times Spencer thinks about proposing to you, and the one time he does

a/n: this is my first time writing/posting here pls be kind to me I just love him and I love books and I hope you love him and love books too !!!!! this hasn’t been edited much so apologies for sp mistakes cw: brief mention of sex, but nothing explicit. Fembau!reader. Lots of literature references (with books named at the end). I think this constitutes as fluff? Pre-prison Spencer, but no specific era. wc: 2.3k

darcy and elizabeth

The first time Spencer thinks about proposing to you, it’s the day you meet him.

The newest agent on the team. You’re emotionally intelligent in a way he can only dream of being.

You cradle a mug of coffee in your hands. His mug, which stuns Morgan into silence mid-sentence, his conversation with Garcia derailed by the sheer surprise of what he’s witnessing. Your mug had smashed thirty minutes earlier, an unfortunate casualty in the first-day desk unboxing. Spencer, seeing your disappointment, pulled a plain white mug from his top drawer, REID printed on the side.

He held it out tentatively. A peace offering. ‘Until you get a new one,’ he’d murmured, offering a small smile.

He’s always been wary of germs, but somehow didn’t care this time.

He watches your hands wrap around the mug. Soft, delicate, holding the item like its something precious. He wonders what it would be like to hold your hands himself. Then scolds the thought. Coworkers, Spencer.

You bring the cup up to your lips, humming in contentment after the first sip. Yor lipstick – or maybe lipgloss? He’s unsure of the correct term – leaves a gentle pink stain on the rim. He secretly hopes that it won’t wash off. He stares for a moment, and wonders, quite randomly, is this how Darcy felt when Elizabeth first touched his hand?

You set the mug down (Morgan still gaping in the background, like you’ve declared war on the Bureau’s hierarchy of personal property) and smile at him.

‘Thank you. Seriously. I desperately needed that caffeine.’

‘It’s not a problem. Did you know that caffeine sensitivity is actually inherited?’ A pause. To see if you’re listening. You are, and he suddenly wonders how appropriate it would be to stain his lips with your lipstick-lipgloss in a kiss. Not very, he concludes. ‘It’s all to do with polymorphisms in your enzymes. Its genetic; they tested it on twins.’

‘You sound well-versed in your coffee knowledge. A fellow connoisseur?’

‘I think the term “addict” is more fitting, actually. And I don’t know how much of my consumption is due to genetics over stress and lack of sleep.’

A laugh from you. He feels the sound in his chest and his stomach flips.

‘Good to know what’s in store for me,’ you tease.

‘Coffee addictions and sleepless nights,’ he replies. Then, hesitating. ‘Maybe I’ll let you use my high-quality espresso beans when it gets really bad.’

‘Literally marry me,’ you joke.

He almost says, I will.

He doesn’t, just stares at the mug like it holds the future.

2. the black cloud

The second time he thinks about proposing is your third-technically fourth date. (The first didn’t count, at least not to you. ‘You asked me to dinner to “celebrate closing the case,”’ you’d later said. ‘That’s not a date.’ He insisted that it was; he’d paid. You said so did JJ, once. Case closed.) They’re also technically not “dates” because dating within the team is prohibited, but Hotch showed some leniency.

Coffee in the park. A foolproof plan, not much room for error. He buys your drink, and you sip it beside him on the bench while he spews obscure facts about the tree you’re sitting under, intertwined with quotes from Ovid and Darwin. He offers to get you a refill as soon as you finish.

‘You haven’t even finished yours yet,’ you tell him.

‘I know. I can still get you a new one.’

‘Just drink your drink, Spencer.’ Accompanied by a fond smile.

You wander together. Conversation flows. He can’t quite explain why its so easy, why he feels so comfortable.

He’s puzzled by the anomaly, so he does what he does best: theorises. He’s been hypothesising for the past three-technically-four dates. Cross-referencing data points. He runs through the evidence, and draws the only viable conclusion:

Love.

Premature, maybe. But true.

You suggest dipping into a second-hand bookshop. He agrees eagerly, following you in like Orpheus descending. He’ll go anywhere, so long as he can find his way back to you. You disappear into your aisle; he into his. Mathematics, physics. The realm of science and fact. Only two minutes pass before you appear again, book clutched in your hand.

‘This is so you,’ you say.

It’s The Black Cloud. Fred Hoyle.

He blinks. Then again. Takes the book from your hand and turning it over like you’ve just handed him the world.

‘You’ve probably read it,’ you say. ‘But you’ve never mentioned it, and I know you like mid-century sci-fi.’

He has read it. Of course he has. But its not about the book. Its about you, thinking of him.

And you say it so casually. Like this isn’t the most intimate thing someone’s done for him.

‘You picked this out… for me?’

‘Yes.’

He turns it over again, shocked. He wants to hand you his heart, neatly wrapped in paper and ink.

‘Oh…’ he breathes out, the sound so quiet. He feels like he’s been winded, in the best way possible.

‘Not to your taste?’

‘No–’ he shakes his head. ‘No, its exactly to my taste. I think I have an older copy, but not this edition.’

‘Do you want it?’

‘Yes.’ The answer comes out before he even registers it. He does want the book. Not because he needs it, but because you picked it out for him.

You smile, gently take it back, and go to the register. He watches lamely, feels compelled to place a hand over his chest an steady his beating heart.

He thinks of Dante first catching sight of Beatrice. Of Gatsby staring across the bay. Of Gabriel and Bathsheba, paths destined to intertwine.

In the middle of the bookshop, he almost gets on one knee.

3. the hour of the star

The third time he thinks about proposing is directly after sex.

Not the first time, or the second. Somewhere in the quiet middle.

You’ve been officially together for six months. You transferred to a different department, and he asked the moment you were in your new office. (‘No interdepartmental fraternization,’ he’d quoted, followed by a nervous, ‘so, can you officially be my girlfriend now?’)

You’re both tangled beneath the sheets in your apartment, the place half his by default now. His toothbrush lives in the bathroom, his go-bag in the hallway, his own mug in your kitchen.

His copy of The Black Cloud lives on your bookshelf, annotated. He took it straight home, writing his thoughts in the margins, little notes to you. Fred Hoyle writes “There is a coherent plan to the universe” and beneath it, in Spencer’s barely legible font, is yes, and I think its you.

The book had been kept out of your sight for seven months, before he “sneakily” slipped it onto your shelf. “Sneakily,” because you watched every movement through the kitchen doorway. You’d read the whole thing that night, cried, and set to work annotating a book of your own for him.

The books are a love language themselves. If he could frame every annotated page on his wall, he would.

He’s reading aloud to you now.

It’s become a ritual. You, soft limbs and warm skin. Him, thumbing through whatever book is on the nightstand, voice a little hoarse. Sometimes it’s a play, sometimes poetry. Once, quantum physics (he didn’t take it personally when you instantly fell asleep to that).

Tonight, its Clarice Lispector. The Hour of the Star. Skin still flushed, he clears his throat and reads aloud, backed by your steady breaths. Each turn of a page is a pause in which he can press a kiss to your skin. Shoulder, cheek, temple. Wherever he can reach.

‘“Things were somehow so good that they were in danger of becoming very bad, because what is fully mature is very close to rotting.’” The sentence hangs in the air. Heavy. His voice stops, like he’s contemplating the words he’s just read.

You turn your head against his chest.

‘Everything okay?’

His quiet. Thinking, as always, a crease between his brows.

‘Mm.’ His arm shifts to wrap around your shoulders. ‘It’s just… interesting, isn’t it? How even the best things are fragile, maybe. Decaying.’

He doesn’t need to say “us” for you to catch what he’s referring to.

‘You think we’ll decay?’ you ask, propping yourself up on one elbow. He looks at your eyes, soft, unworried, and thinks again.

‘I think that… real things are vulnerable. We’re real. And I think that makes us susceptible.’ He hesitates, brushes some hair from your face absentmindedly. ‘Entropy. Everything tends towards disorder.’

‘Only if you don’t control it,’ you say. Factually incorrect, but he appreciates what you're saying.

And perhaps that’s it. Your unwavering faith. You’re a realist, not a romantic. Offering certainty in a world of disorder.

‘Decay isn’t death,’ you point out, continuing. ‘Its transformation, right? Compost to soil. Stars collapsing and becoming galaxies. Things can break and become something beautiful.’

His world shifts in that moment. He looks back at the line, reads it maybe 20 times in the span of five seconds.

‘We’re not going to rot, Spence.’

‘We’re not going to rot,’ he repeats. He knows it’s the truth as you press your lips to his chest, over his frantically beating heart. ‘Do you want me to keep going?’ he asks, lifting the book slightly.

‘Please.’

You adjust your position, curling into his side. He resumes his reading. He’s turning the page again when you mumble quietly.

‘We’re not going to rot, because I love you.’

Every syllable brands itself into his soul. He’s heard those three words before, but there’s something more to them in his context. He almost drops the book, catches I before it hits your head. He wants to tell you that you are his Eurydice, the person he’s always been trying to reach.

Instead, he says:

‘I love you, too.’

It falls easily. Inevitable, as always. No drama, no prelude. Just the truth, spoken to you many times before and many more to come.

He almost attaches a “marry me” to his words but instead kisses your hair and returns to the book. He’ll wait.

He already knows the ending will be worth it.

4. metamorphoses

The fourth time isn’t once. It’s every day.

You hand him coffee in the morning? Marry me.

You nurse him through a cold, unconcerned about coughing and sneezing, just wanting to be near to him? Here’s a ring fashioned out of Kleenex.

You coo over Henry in one of JJ’s photos? Let’s make one of our own. Just marry me first.

He asks Rossi for advice. (‘You’ve been married a lot, statistically speaking.’)

Garcia catches on quickly. Spencer Reid combined with search history is a concoction for whatever the opposite of “stealth” is. He looks at rings on his lunch break, tilting his computer screen like its classified information.

Pretty soon everyone knows. You remain oblivious – or pretend to be.

It’s simply a matter of when.

5. darcy and elizabeth

It’s a Tuesday. Raining.

Not a dramatic kind of rain. Unassuming. Soft and relentless, quietly soaking the world, a constant tap against the window of his apartment – now permanently shared with you.

He wonders if the rain is a piece of pathetic fallacy. A warning against his plans.

It’s four years to the day since he met you.

He had a plan. Of course he did. He was Spencer Reid. A riverside walk in the park. Take a picnic, surrounded by ducks. Bookmark a page in Much Ado About Nothing with the ring. But the weather has altered his plans, made him go off script.

But maybe that’s a good thing. Gentle touches and heartfelt gestures over big declarations, that’s what he’s always preferred. He just needs a moment.

You’re making coffee. Barefoot, hair damp from the rain that interrupted his plans. Wearing an old shirt of his effortlessly. A perfect picture of home. His home.

He stands in the doorway with a book in his hand. Pride and Prejudice. Not his favourite. Nowhere near his top ten. But it’s your favourite. You’ve worn it down with love, left your own story between the lines with annotations. And that makes it his favourite now, too.

His mismatched socks shift awkwardly on the floor.

‘Hi,’ he says, calling your attention.

You look up from the mugs with a pre-formed smile. Yours, a copy of the mug you’d smashed on your first day. His, the mug with your lipstick, now washed, but imprinted with you forever.

‘Hey,’ you respond. ‘Dry from the rain?’

He doesn’t respond. Crosses the kitchen and holds out the book. Why does it feel like a brick?

‘This is… mine?’ you say, unsure.

‘Yes,’ he confirms. ‘I added some annotations. For you.’

You open the cover. His handwriting – messy, familiar – sits below your own in black ink.

You know I am not very good with words. So, I thought I’d borrow someone else’s. Please turn to page 301.

He watches your breath hitch. Watches as you carefully flip the pages.

There’s a line. Circled not once, but many times over, holding the weight of what couldn’t be said with words.

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”

Beside it, tentative but certain at the same time, his writing: but if you ever choose to be bound to someone, I hope it’s me.

He’s already on one knee when you glance up. Ring held out in his hand. A quiet promise, forged from the pages of books you’ve shared and the one you’ve written yourself.

Your hands are cradling his face. He’s crying. And you’re crying.

‘I will always choose you.’ Quiet, definitive. A fact.

He slips the ring on and kisses you. Pride and Prejudice lays open in the background. Page 301. A circled sentence. A note in the margins. A love undoubted.

hi I’m super awkward but I hope you enjoyed yippee!! I thought I’d quickly mention all the books I referenced/have implied references to because I love them all and if you like literature you should read them teehee (in order because I’m super sweet) (also I know darcy doesn’t touch her hand in the books pls don’t come for me <33) Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen Metamorphosis, Ovid The Origin of Species, Charles Darwin The Black Cloud, Fred Hoyle The Divine Comedy, Dante The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald Far from the Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy The Hour of the Star, Clarice Lispector Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare Hamlet, Shakespeare

[circus-clangen]

[ Peanutkit LOUDLY explains why being quiet is super boring ]

The Line Begins Here | Previous | Admit one

TRAPEZETANGLE BRUTALLY AMBUSHED AND ATTACKED NOT CLICKBAIT!!??!!!!??!!! 😨😨😨😨😨😱😱😱😱😱😱‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

For real though BLESS these parents for having TWO kits with the “noisy” trait. They haven’t slept in a month and they will never sleep again.

Starting off this moon with some silliness and good times… there’s a lot going on this moon, most of it dialogue, so I will be suffering immensely through it. Some interesting stuff happens though, which I am RATHER excited for… a couple frames I have very vividly in mind and can’t wait to draw. I’ll tell you all now though, this is shortest and easiest part to this moon. Everything else is going to take an excruciatingly long time 😔 But I am thoroughly enjoying having new faces to draw!

Also, new header? 👀 I think I’m going to be going back through all the old moons and standardizing the headers… if not to actually change the posts, just for my own peace of mind in my procreate files. MAYBE one day I’ll redraw the silly old Circusclan moons but for now a better header might suffice…

As an aside, Thank you all for your support in my opening commissions! I’m almost done with my first batch and everyone has been very nice and I’ve been having a blast. Definitely am going to keep it up and hopefully add some more options in the future!

[cameronsbabydoll]

i saw you posted something similar to this yesterday – but i can totally imagine reader making rafe get a pinterest account and follow her. she’d help him make boards based of his interests (and some of her own.. aswell a wishlist of things she wants..) and rafe would be like “who tf is this lana chick?” “why is it all pink?” “what are whispers?-” he’d be so confused 😭 imagine one of his friends using his phone for a second and they’d be like “rafe why do you have pinterest downloaded..”

You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through Pinterest with Rafe beside you. He was pretending to look interested while you excitedly clicked through your boards. Today, you were showing him your favorite pins, pulling him into your wishlists, lana del rey, outfit inspo, and coquette aesthetic.

“M’kay, now we’re going to make a board for your favorite things,” you said, turning to him with your phone. “I’ll help you. We can start with like overpriced cars and watches, kay?”

He glanced at the screen, clearly uninterested but indulging you. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever.”

As you work on his boards, you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw Rafe’s eyes widening as you showed him some of your personal boards. “Now this one,” you said, scrolling to your Lana Del Rey collection, “is my favorite. lana is basically like my mother, and these are all of the aesthetics of her albums — this one is lust for life..”

Rafe stared at the screen, furrowing his brow. “Who the hell is this Lana chick?” He zoomed in on a picture of Lana sitting in a vintage car, looking all sultry and wistful. “Why’s everything pink? What’s with this?” He handed you your phone, clearly baffled. “She looks like she’s from another century.”

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get it Rafe! She’s embracing her songs! Not my fault you listen to like classical music.”

He scoffed. “I don’t get it, alright. And what’s this girlblogger board? What does that even mean?”

“Oh, it’s for like girly stuff,” you explained.

“Girlblogging?” Rafe stared at you like you had two heads. “What the hell are you talking about? He was still looking at your phone like it was an alien artifact.

“Because it’s a girl thing!,” you said, amused by how lost he was.

He rolled his eyes and smirked. “Yeah, I’m good.” He scrolled through your Wishlist board next. “Hold on, what’s this? You’ve got, like, a thousand pins in here. A thousand, baby?”

“It’s just a collection of things I like! You know, for future reference. A girl’s gotta dream,” you teased, clearly enjoying how flustered Rafe was getting.

“Yeah, I don’t know what half this shit is. What’s a coquette?” He was genuinely confused, clearly trying to make sense of this whole Pinterest thing. “Why is it all so... pink? And what the hell’s with all the ‘girly’ shit?” He flicked through more pins and let out a dramatic sigh. “Sorry doll”

You giggling at the look on his face. “It’s an aesthetic, Rafe. You know? You’re just too masculine minded!”

Rafe just stared at you, utterly lost. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He set the phone down and raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re on your own with this Pinterest nonsense, sweetheart.”

The next day at work, Rafe’s phone buzzed on his desk, and one of his coworkers grabbed it for a second to check the time. Glancing at the screen, they paused, staring at the Pinterest app.

“Rafe... why do you have Pinterest downloaded on your phone?” His coworker raised an eyebrow, smirking as they scrolled through the pins. “What’s with all the pink?”

Rafe snatched his phone back, his face red. “It’s not a big deal, alright?” he muttered, trying to cover his embarrassment. “My girl made me download it. It’s nothing.”

His coworker wasn’t letting it go. “You’re telling me you’ve got a whole Pinterest account for... your girls wishlist and her aesthetic?”

Rafe glared, irritated. “Just delete it and shut up, alright?” he snapped, desperately trying to defend his dignity.

[ribread03]

Our Song I

m.sturniolo

Summery: When you receive a DM from nick asking you about doing a collaboration with them you cant help but say yes!

THIS IS MY WORK AND MY IDEA! PLEASE DONT USE THIS AS “INSPIRATION” OR TAKE IT WITHOUT GETTING MY PERMISSION FIRST! thank you :)

AN: this is part one of the series “our song” if you would like to know more about “y/n” you can use the mood board! Enjoy :)

Y/N POV

You’re sitting at your desk editing the newest YouTube video you plan to put out. Music is playing in the background as you zone out into your computer. Your phone dings, pulling you out your computer to see who might have messaged you.

Your heart skips a beat when you see “nicolassturniolo sent you a message” in your notification stack. You’ve been a fan of the sturniolo triplet since what felt like forever, and now Nick is messaging you on instagram. You’re in such a state of shock as you open the message, hands trembling as you read what it says;

“Hello, Me, Matt and Chris have come across your YouTube channel and we’re wondering if you want to collab with us sometime in the future….”

Flash Back Two Weeks Ago…

You had just finished editing a YouTube video to post, hitting the post button you close your computer and lay down to take a nap. Expecting the usual few hundred comments and likes when you wake up in a few hours.

Boy were you wrong… A few hours go by and you wake up and see that your video has blown up, thousands of views, thousands of comments, and thousands of new subscribers. Your eyes scan your phone “congratulations on 1 MILLION subscribers” was in your email.

“OH! MY! GOD!” You screamed out, alerting your parents who happened to be downstairs, to hear you. Jumping up and out of bed, starting to exit your room, stepping over piles of books and clothes.

“Y/N? Are you okay!?” You can hear your mother frantically call up to you while walking up the stairs.

“I HIT A MILLION SUBSCRIBERS!” You say excitedly while meeting her in the hallway…

Back to the present…

“Oh. my. god…” you say quietly, fingers hovering over your screen, scared that if you hit anything this will all be a figment of your imagination. Clicking on the notification you hold your breath as your phone unlocks and opens instagram… this is no figment of your imagination. This is real life and the triplets really want to collaborate with you.

You let out a few more silent “omgs” before heading downstairs to talk to your mom about all of this. You exit your room and walk down the stairs, “Momma?” You say softly as you round the corner into the kitchen.

“Yeah sweetie?” Your mom says as she’s washing the dishes. You sit on a small stool on the floor before you talk again, petting your cat, nugget, that was by your feet.

“I got a message from Nick Sturniolo, asking if I wanted to collaborate with them,” you can hear the excitement in your voice as you tell your mom. Your mom also knows that you’ve been a fan, and practically obsessed, with these three boys since high school and have always wanted to meet them one day.

“You did? That’s great honey, what did you say?” She asks turning the sink off and turning to face you.

“I didn’t answer yet.. I'm honestly scared because what if they change their minds?” You explain to your mom with a nervous chuckle. Your cat had now made its way up onto your lap, purring loudly.

“I think you should do whatever you want, just know that a flight out to LA might be expensive.” You took your mom’s words to heart and gave her a small nod.

“I want to go out and meet them, a collaboration would help me so much.. maybe if I get a little more information then I’ll be able to see if I can afford it or not,” you explained back to your mom, pulling your phone out to DM Nick back.

“I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever. I would love to share some more information about when and where if possible.” You hit send with slightly shaky fingers before talking to your mom again, “I just messaged him back, I asked him for some more details on when and where we would collab”

“Okay sweetie,” your mom says softly before returning to whatever she was doing in the kitchen, before you came out there to talk to her. You give your cat a few more pets before standing and going back into your room, waiting for Nick to message you back with more details surrounding this possible future collaboration…

Matts POV

“Did you ask her yet?” Matt was sitting next to Nick looking over at his phone. Matt had seen your YouTube video and thought you were the most beautiful, funny, and relatable person on the internet, and he knew right then and there he needed to meet you.

He had asked Nick and Chris what they thought of some of your YouTube videos, hinting at the idea of a collaboration with you. Saying and pointing out things that would hopefully catch his brother's attention and make them also want to meet you, just maybe not for the same reason.

Matt would find himself scrolling through your instagram when he was bored, careful not to like any of your posts, wanting to keep you out of his fans stalking obsessions before he could even properly meet you. Thumbs carefully scrolling on TikTok as he watches every video you’ve made on there, watching how every video is a little different.

“Yes Matt, I did ask her,” Nick says with a slight eye roll, becoming tired of his brother’s constant asking. Nick's phone dings lightly, alerting that someone messaged him, the someone being you. Nick opens instagram and the messages that the two of you have sent back and forth. Matt's eyes scan the screen quickly, not caring that he might be invading some privacy of his brothers.

Matt's eyes land on the words, “I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever…” and he immediately becomes happier, his smile widening and eyes seem to sparkle and little more.

Nick sends you a quick DM back, asking if regular texting would be easier to send information through and that the collab would be sometime within the next two months. “I can’t believe she said yes!” Matt explains to Nick, his excitement evident in his tone.

“I didn’t think she would say no,” Nick says calmly, typing out his phone number to send to you…

AN: i hope you enjoyed this first part! If you would like to be on the tag list for this series comment on this post! Just asking to be added and i will do so :) feed back and thoughts are always welcome!

All boarders are from @issysh3ll

[rahiwatching]

Fan Theory: Like Ogres and Onions, the Matoran Universe has Layers

This theory has been rattling around in my head for some time, I might make a Knowledge Tower video about it someday, but I’m not certain if its a good fit, given its more of a theory than anything where I actually do some science in it. Maybe you all can let me know if this is a good video idea in the notes?

Anyway, the crux of this theory is something to try to explain how all of this:

Actually fits into the body of the GSR.

This is a long post, so I’ll put the rest under the cut.

We already know from Greg quotes that the MU map isn’t really to scale, its more to show the rough position of the islands rather than their actual relative size compared to one another, hence why Odina is so large, and why Voya Nui seems to take up most of the southern continent despite being described as being relatively small in story.

But even using this as a guide for placement only, it still doesn’t really gel with the actual layout of the Great Spirit Robot, with everything in the torso area having to be squished up into the upper torso given the empty space in the abdomen.

This is further compounded by this image, which places the giant vortex in the endless ocean that leads to the great waterfall in the middle of the chest of the GSR, once again placing both the southern continent and Karda Nui squarely in the upper torso:

I’ve seen more than a few fan maps of the MU that try to address this problem, but all the ones that I have seen have never quite been satisfying to me, they make the southern continent especially far too small than what the storyline suggests it should be in order to get everything to fit.

But my solution, which I don’t think I’ve seen elsewhere before, came to me when I remembered that Karda Nui was in a dome that was underneath the southern continent - it was on a separate layer. And, well, Karda Nui can be on a separate layer, why not other sections of the MU as well?

That thought let me to making these maps of how I think the MU could possibly be laid out:

As you can see, from this layered approach, not only can you fit everything in nicely, but you can also keep the continents large without having to compromise to make them fit in. It even allows for additional domes that could house some of the other locations / smaller islands that are mentioned in the story that are not included in the official map. I did also play around with the size of each island compared to the offical map, given Greg already confirmed that the sizes on it were not accurate and so I could maximise the liveable land area of the MU.

I also used the fact that Greg has confirmed that ways to get into Karda Nui are via portals (with the canon one known being near the southern continent and also being where Destral moved itself to during the Karda Nui arc) to get around the issues not only of travel between layers, but also of travel between the head, torso and limbs without having to mess around with relative positions of those places moving when the robot moves its joints. The way I figure it, if the portal took up the entire sea gate tunnel width, then it could be entirely possible that the inhabitants weren’t aware they were going through a portal at all, it could just look like a regular tunnel to them, leading to the MU map from the inhabitants perspective I included here too.

I’ve tried to include as many canon compliant details into these maps as I could (e.g. connections between the torso and arms at multiple points to explain the routes taken by the Federation of Fear, room in Artakha and Xia’s domes for the islands they used to share them with before they were destroyed, the position of the pit being based both on proximity to Daxia but also on the placement of Mahri Nui in the Faber concept art above etc.), but I may have missed some details, so do let me know if you spot any.

I could also potentially use these maps in the future to work out things like total land area of the MU for the Faber and Farshtey sizes given I can determine the area a pixel represents in each, so these could be quite useful to Knowledge Tower videos in the future, but first I’d like to get some peer review on the core ideas from the wider fandom here on Tumblr.

What do you think of the maps and the idea behind them?

[nightscythe]

The Curze intoxication thing from the taboo kinks post still lives rent free in my mind, I think it’d be interesting to flip it so Curze can have a chance to relax for once, no visions or looming future just him having a grand old time.

Half way through he’d probably starts babbling about all the things he couldn’t before as they suddenly spring to mind, like how much he adores his beloved and wants them to stay a part of him forever, how much he wishes he could love his sons (or how he does love some of them in spite of everything in the case of Sevatar). Then towards the end he quietly admits that sometimes he wishes he could change the future

Of course when it’s all said and done he decides he never wants to do it again, not because he disliked it but because allowing any doubt in his visions to fester upsets him in way he can’t explain.

-💜

;; you’re right, he deserves some down time. all those feelings he wants to say but can never bring himself to during the day.. makes me feel very soft. this idea is all on you!! ‎ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

soft curze // you somehow convinced curze to try something guaranteed to make him as close to drunk as a primarch can be…

you’re sat on the floor, cross legged with a pillow on your lap. curze has his head rested on the pillow, he’s staring up at the ceiling without the usual complicated thoughts on his mind.

he’s quiet, which is typical, but it’s not the same silence that usually occurs around him. there’s no threat of prophecy and the future he so badly didn’t want to see always showing when he least wanted it.

“i adore you. i really do.”

you hear him laugh first. it’s quiet, then it’s not. nothing bitter in his tone, just a genuinely happy tone that makes you smile as it continues.

“i’d do anything i could if it meant i could stay with you.”

it seemed the alcohol had set in.

“do you think about what might happen?” he asks you, detached from a reality in a way you haven’t quite seen before. he looks up to you as your fingers just skim his hairline. “do you think about what’s inevitable, and what we may be able to control?”

he smiles, leaning into your touch. his cheeks are blushed, his lips a deep red. you can’t disguise the surprise well enough. “what do you mean?”

“you’re here with me.” he flails his arms to gesture the room around him. “was this moment by chance, or by fate?”

you can only shrug.

“it’s like a dream,” he continues. he lets his eyes fall shut and sink into the feeling of you smoothing over his hair. “i’m afraid that if i think of it too much, it will all slip away. i’ll wake up from my own consciousness and everything that makes me want to continue will fall apart.”

he looks up to you again.

“you’ll leave me. everyone will leave me. i won’t feel a break from the pain any longer.”

your lips part as though you want to answer, but he shakes his head. he turns to the side, not allowing you to nestle into his insecurities, reaching for the glass on the floor that contained more of the bitter liquid which started this all in the first place.

“i won’t love anyone more than you,” he tells you. “not in any other lifetime.”

he smiles fondly as he downs another mouthful. a trickle falls from his lips which he wipes away with the back of his hand. he sits up fully now, so he’s parallel to you.

“i still don’t understand it. how we met, how we managed…” he gestures around him again, “…this.”

the glass is placed back down to the ground carefully. in his eyes, the depth of a thousand words he’d never speak when sobriety befell him. he’s warm. he’s glowing.

“i wasn’t built for love. i wasn’t built for anything but justice and war. yet, i’m allowed moments like this with you, and i’ll cherish them for the rest of time.” he exhales deeply as he meets your gaze. leans forward ever so slightly each second, closing the distance. “i sometimes wonder why i try to continue. i’m reminded of what it’s like to be apart from you, in distance alone, and i realise that i could never be without you.”

a slight panic glints in his eye. he shakes his head, recoiling like he’d set something wrong in the hands of time.

“i don’t mean that you can’t leave me. you can. you… can make that choice.” he hums as he slouches. “it would be hard. too hard, perhaps. but you’re still there. that’s what matters. even if we are apart. but, you haven’t left. not yet, maybe, but you’re still here. and it makes me think, believe, you won’t ever leave.”

“i won’t.”

he smiles behind his grimace. he wants to trust you. so, for just one night, he lets himself. “i believe you.”

it’s quiet for another moment. his smile is gone, but otherwise he’s still the same. still absorbed in his own thoughts rather than what was dictated to him.

“it feels strange. others also make me feel lucky, you know.”

you tilt your head gently to the side. “others?”

“my sons.” he rolls his eyes as he huffs a laugh. “a few of them, at least. some are noble, some are more than others could pretend to be. i wish that i was given a chance to find some form of attachment to them. love, even.”

his eyes shift beyond you.

“perhaps for some i do. sevatar, for example. he is a bastard. but… i care. it may not be love, but it’s something close.” his eyes fall on you again. “he must never know i said that. he will become weak.”

you can’t help the frown. “he’s weak for knowing you love him? what does that make me, then?”

“it is not the same love i feel.”

“i feel like that was implied.” you lean forward and reach for his hand, fingers running down the back of his hand. “knowing you love me doesn’t make me weak. it makes me feel safe. protected. fulfilled, even. maybe telling him would help.”

he pauses, considering your suggestion. his decision is laced with hesitation. “it wouldn’t change the future.”

“don’t speak of that for now.” you lace your fingers with his. “i know you wish to change it, but tonight, you don’t know what future will come true.”

he nods once. glances down to your hand intertwined with his. keeps them loked, tight as though he’d never feel your touch again if he let go, whilst moving back to lay with his head on the pillow. lets his thoughts settle for a moment.

they’d never be silent, but this was close enough.

meanwhile, you keep the secret of seeing sev’s face completely expressionless as he stares into the room from the hallway, never seen by the dulled senses of his primarch.

you both agree to never speak of it again.

for curze’s sake, of course.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

my safety and my honor

inspired by this post "so what if I sucked his dick. his knuckles were split and bloody from defending my safety and my honor what else was I supposed to do"

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, cheating, male receiving oral, a little angsty?

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“what is it?” rafe asks, hands cupping your face as you hyperventilate. “y/n, what is it?”

“my boyfriend owes barry, and now he’s threatening me.” you manage to explain, the words coming out in a fast tumble. you knew when barry confronted you outside your home that morning, there was one person to go to, and it wasn’t your boyfriend who got you into this mess, but rafe.

“shit.” rafe groans, running his hand through his hair. “what is he doing getting messed up with barry? he’s a bad dude, and now you’re involved.” “maybe i can pay him, i-i don’t know. he didn’t say how much he owes but i-” “fuck that.” rafe says. “i know how addicts are. you can’t pay for your boyfriend because then he’ll never learn, never face any consequences.”

“what else am i supposed to do?” you ask, throwing your hands up as you begin to pace, not able to keep your hands from shaking. barry fucking terrified you, and while you want your boyfriend jonathan to make better decisions in the future, you also don’t want anything to happen to you because of his dumb decisions.

“break up with his ass, first of all.” rafe says. it’s not the first time he’s advised you to break up. rafe has been your best friend since you were in kindergarten and he stopped one of the boys from bullying you and tugging on your pigtails.

“rafe-” you begin, knowing that’s not a serious solution.

“and i’ll talk to barry.” rafe cuts you off. he’s not sure how much talking will actually be done, but he needs to make sure that barry won’t ever come close to you again. he needs to know that you are off limits in every way. no threats, no intimidation, no flirting either while he’s at it.

“thank you, thank you, thank you.” you say, throwing your arms around rafes shoulders, burying your head into his neck. “if you just convince him to give jonathan a little more time, he can pay him back.” “i’ll see what i can do about that.” rafe wraps his arms around your waist, holding you against him. “either way, i will make sure barry doesn’t come after you again.”

--

“oh my god!” you jump up from your spot on the couch, having sat nervously for the past hour biting on your fingernails and waiting for rafe to return from barrys.

“i’m fine.” rafe says, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. “it’s not my blood… for the most part.”

“let me clean you up, come on.” you rush towards the bathroom, rafe following closely behind you. he shuts the toilet lid and takes a seat, groaning slightly as he does, sure that his ribs are bruised from the few punches barry was able to deliver back to him.

you turn on the warm water before getting a towel to clean him up. you dab at rafes face, his blue eyes looking back into yours as you clean away the blood, noticing his jaw is starting to bruise slightly.

“i didn’t think this is what you meant when you said you were going to talk to barry.” you say, sinking to your knees, thankful for that bathmat providing some cushion on the tile floor as you move rafes hands to resting on his knees so you can clean his arms and hands.

“i had to let him know to stay away from you, baby.” rafe says, making you blush at the nickname, but he doesn’t see as he squeezes his eyes shut when you wipe the damp cloth over his knuckles.

“if i knew you were going to hurt yourself, i never would have let you go.” you say with a sigh, hating that rafe was injured because of you. you stand and return to the sink, rinsing the towel clear of blood and rewetting it before returning to your knees.

“i would do anything for you, y/n.” rafe whispers as you work on cleaning his wrists of the droplets of now dried blood.

“stop it.” you sniffle, trying to hold back tears. you toss the towel into the hamper when you’re all finished, standing up and not letting your mind stop you as you slide onto rafes lap, pressing your lips against his. he doesn’t even hesitate for a second before kissing back, his hands coming to your waist and pulling you tight against him, pressing your chests together.

you moan into the kiss, reaching down to stroke rafe through his thick jeans. you know you shouldn’t be doing this, you have a boyfriend after all, but you have to do something to show rafe your appreciation for defending your safety.

you slide to your knees, retaking your spot between his legs. you frown at his bruised knuckles, pressing the gentlest kisses you possibly can to the red, split flesh. you rub your hands over his thighs as you do so, moving higher and higher as you go.

“y/n, stop-” rafe gasps when your hand ghosts over his crotch. “you don’t have to.”

“i want to.” you tell him, fluttering your eyes up to look at his face, his devastatingly beautiful face, the bruise only growing.

“fuck-” rafe curses when you rub your hand harder, unable to keep himself from hardening in his pants. he’s wanted you like this for so long, but he wanted you to be wholly his when he finally gets you on your knees, not you doing it to thank him for something your boyfriend should have done.

rafe stands up suddenly, making you fall backwards onto your bum. “just-just if we are going to do this.” rafe reaches down, grabbing you by your waist and picking you up with ease, carrying you out of the bathroom. it might not be rafes ideal situation, but he’s at least going to make sure whatever happens next doesn’t happen in the bathroom.

he carries you to his room before sitting down on the bed, letting you slide down onto the floor again, taking the same spot as before on your knees, clear what your intentions are when your hands begin to rub over his length again.

you work on unbuttoning his pants, then unzipping as well, tugging open the two flaps to reveal his underwear. you lean forward, pressing your lips to the part of his length only concealed by one layer of fabric instead of two.

you lean backwards, looking up at rafe expectantly, who like always knows what you want without you having to ask for it as he lifts his hips, letting you tug his jeans down. you frown when you realize they will get caught on his shoes, untying his laces and taking them off as well before pulling them the rest of the way away.

rafe spreads his legs when you retake your spot, his cock now clearly straining against his underwear, hard and waiting impatiently for you.

you lean forward, moving directly to where the head of his cock is, opening your mouth and sinking your lips around it, wetting the fabric as your tongue works on rubbing against him.

“that-” rafe gasps when you manage to suck him through his underwear, creating a delicious amount of pressure. “that feels so good.”

you smile slightly as you pull back. you’ve never got this reaction because of jonathan before. he praised you when you got him off, but it never made you feel the giddy way that rafe certainly does. a guilty part of you acknowledges that it may be because you know that you’re cheating at this very moment.

you sit back and quickly tug his underwear down, not even waiting for rafe to lift his hips as you use force to get them down, flinging them across the room without care, your eyes already staring hungrily at rafes cock, now standing up straight and free from constraints.

you glance up briefly at rafe, giving him a chance to stop you, even though you really don’t want him to as you lean forward, sinking your lips down over his cock, immediately starting to bob your head as you get used to his impressive length. not only is he longer than your boyfriend, he’s a bit thicker as well, making your cheeks stretch even more.

you use your tongue to rub against his shaft as you move, and judging by the way rafe is moaning incessantly, he really likes the way it feels.

you place your hands on his thighs and take a deep breath through your nose before pushing down, attempting to take him all the way to the back of your throat. you gag slightly, but continue until your nose is against his skin. rafe presses a hand to the back of your head, keeping you trapped there as your throat constricts around him.

the urge to cough is finally too great as you pull off with a wheezing breath. you don’t give yourself a big break as you immediately press kisses to the head of his cock, now covered in your spit as your hand grips the base of his dick, jerking gently to still provide as much stimulation as you can.

“thank you.” you mumble against rafes length, dropping your lips to kiss and lick along the shaft too. “thank you.” you whisper again, mouth moving lower as your hand strokes over his whole length, your mouth ghosting over his balls before sucking one into your mouth.

rafe curses, his hands fisting in the bedsheets. you move to the other side, sucking for a moment as well before moving up his length again.

you wrap your lips around his head, giving it a hearty suck before beginning to bob your head again, keeping your hand wrapped around his base, but your lips press against your fingers every time, taking as much as you can.

“i can’t last much longer.” rafe warns, his voice raspy.

you just give a little hum of acknowledgement, sucking with purpose now as you use every trick that you can against him, even flicking your tongue against the head of his cock every time you pull up.

rafe lets out a loud groan, and then you feel him swelling in your mouth, knowing his release is impending as you suckle on his head, long ropes on cum spurting into your mouth. your hand strokes over his length as he works through his high. you hold his cum in your mouth until he’s finished, tongue swishing over the liquid, memorizing the taste before swallowing it down. 

you pull away with a shaky breath, looking up to rafe. “thank you.” you say again, standing up and pressing a closed mouth kiss against his lips, not letting yourself fall back into his arms.

you stand up, tears in your eyes, knowing you need to go talk to jonathan, to help him get his shit sorted with barry and then leave him for putting you in danger. you turn towards the door, glancing back only when you hear rafe flop backwards onto the bed, covering his face with his hands.

you leave him there, knowing you'll be back soon enough.

[leiatalon]

Character Interview: Prince Collin ❤️

Welcome to the second character interview in an ongoing series!

Today we sat down with Prince Collin Ga’vaan to get his thoughts on questions sent in by fans of The Eternal Library…

Enjoy the excerpt below, and be sure to check out my Patreon for the full interview, which is available for free!

What kind of ruler would you like to be?

Fair. Just. Benevolent. Peaceful when possible and more than capable of defending the kingdom at need.

I don’t wish for the crown. It is a weight I’d prefer someone else carry, but the responsibility has come to me and I will wield it in the name of Minare’s citizens.

I’m only beginning to understand how many things need to be managed in order for the kingdom to thrive, but I know a lot of good people. These lands are ours to share. If we work together, I expect we can accomplish miracles.

What is your opinion on the Fae?

My opinion is ever evolving. I was taught to be wary of Fae, but the more I learned about them through the years, seeking out Minare’s Fae in the high forests of Crost, the more I yearn to make allies of them. Now, one of my closest comrades is a Fae-blooded Kitherin. I am intrigued by Fae and mages of all sorts, and drawn to the vast potential of magic.

Do you have a secret talent or hidden hobby?

Does magic count? My magic is subtle compared to the power most Fae possess, and nothing compared to the Kitherin, but mine nonetheless. I have kept it hidden all my life, but for a few close friends and my tutors, Master Tyne and Master Leonz.

And now my Tian friend knows…

You said you had been noticing the MC for years. Other than chance injury, what has endeared you to the MC so suddenly, and, given all that’s happening, are you in a good headspace for a romantic partnership and what are the depths of your feelings?

Ah, the mystery of the Tian. We grew up together, if you can call it that when my duties and the MC’s were so different, but we have seen each other countless times over the years. When we met in the library a few weeks before the incident with the door, I was happy to insist MC take the book to finish the story. It was a good book, meant to be shared with more than myself, my siblings, and whatever nobles may have picked it up.

When we collided in the hallway my world changed. Sharing my meager abilities in an attempt to heal the damage I caused sparked something in my magic. Something in my soul. I can’t explain it, but when we’re near there’s a kind of call. A resonance I cannot ignore.

Am I in a good headspace for a romantic partnership? [laughter] Why wouldn’t the Weaver send me one more wave to ride through the chaos? In all truth, I’ve been yearning for a closeness that transcends lust and reaches into something real.

What is life without love? It is nothing. Every story I read speaks of it, and I have longed for it all my life. My magic tells me this is true. If the MC chooses to love me, I will love with my whole heart, my being. My soul. If the MC chooses friendship, my loyalty will be as steadfast as time.

We have work to do together. I know that with certainty.

✨ Collin ✨

If you'd like to hear more from Prince Collin, read the full post for free:

I hope you enjoyed this Interview with a Prince! 

I have a growing collection of character interviews on my Patreon if you’d like to read more. You’ll find the public interviews with Temphesta and Prince Collin there, as well as a chance to learn more about Angelina, Sevitas, and Dorian. Over the next few weeks I’ll have interviews coming out with Gemma, Marienna, Prince Petre of Trillivum, and Prince La’rast. Those are already written and scheduled for Patreon subscribers at Royal Guard tiers and higher. Getting to know the characters better gave me some great ideas for future chapters!

I've also just updated the Patreon demo of The Eternal Library with the full rescue path of chapter five! That will be released to the public in a month or so, but is now available to all paid subscribers!

Thanks for reading! I hope you have a fabulous rest of your weekend!

[orangejuice-djn]

It’s never really explained how Silver time travels in modern (we only see the Chaos Emeralds being used in 06 and never again) so it think it would be neat if they brought back the time stones from CD

Game idea and Time Stone text below

Silver needs his own game and I think it would be neat it they made it so you had to solve puzzles by going back a forth through time to change things

Maybe even incorporate different endings like a good bad and neutral future like in CD or Shadow the Hedgehog

It would be neat to have a Sonic game where you had to slow down and find the little things that change the future

I also thing him having his own game would help explore and explain his powers because I feel like he is a lot more powerful then most people give him credit for

I might make some more posts about game concepts but this is what I have so far

————so on to the Time Stone’s powers————

I decided to give each of the stones their own power (yes I know they can all time travel when used together) but I like to think that when they are together they can use any sort of time based power to the extreme

—

Red

Individual Power - Time Acceleration/Deceleration

(Can speed up or slow down time)

—

Orange

Individual Power - Time Reversal

(Rewinding and turning back time)

—

Yellow

Individual Power - Time Looping

(Making time loop over durning and over a specific period of time)

—

Green

Individual Power - Time Bubbles

(Can make a pocket where time moves differently then the space around it)

—

Cyan

Individual Power - Time Travel

(Being able to move through time and teleport to different time periods)

—

Blue

Individual Power - Time Freezing

(The ability to stop time)

—

Purple

Individual Power - Precognition

(Being able to see and predict the future in multiple time lines)

—————————————————————————

Of course each power from the stone would have some sort of weakness to make sure

1 - they aren’t over powered

And 2 - they don’t accidentally overlap with the others (like how rewind or speed up could “Travel” to the past of future)

The weakness are some what dependent on the user so a user can work to make the powers stronger

(I have Ideas for the other holders of the time stones being; Platinum, Sapphire, Diamond, Gold, Ruby, (Silver), and Bronze based on the jubilee hierarchy but I’ll make a more detailed post about them later)

[ouchthathurts]

❝ WE'RE PROVING TO EACHOTHER THAT ROMANCE IS BORING. ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Daisuke x AFAB! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 3.4k

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 1 | 2 |

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ Your best friend from high school is working at the same internship as you!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted on AO3 | Second Person Point of View | Angst | References to sex | Series? | Marijuana Use | Alcohol Use | Romance Is Boring - Los Compensinos

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ BINGO BANGO BABY!!!! I’ll be honest that I’m weighing on making this a series, I want to but I’m looking for the push

There’s a familiar warmness that breaks from the open window, you smack your lips as you feel your tongue roll against the roof of your mouth, the taste of fruity alcohol mixed with marijuana has nestled into your tastebuds.

You miss the tongue in your mouth that helped implant it, stirring around and you couldn’t be happier to have someone, you held in such high regard, mix with you. You clutch the blankets and pull them to your chest—

What is there left to hide from him?

You slowly pull yourself from under the blankets, your naked top now feels the sun beat onto your chest, you try to recollect last night and think about what your next actions should be. There’s familiarity in the room, the old scratched up records pinned to a wall with an acoustic guitar that was never played properly, work out bean bags, and a small round table with scratched up games' controllers on it. There’s a box of pizza, one slice left—

“You can have it, just heat it up in the morning.”

You don’t take it, no matter how much you feel the vibration in your stomach, you suck it up and began to collect your clothes scattered around the area. You see the familiar Sonic CD rug in the center of the room just before the bed, there you find your underwear, you see your shirt on top of the lava lamp next to his bed, and you find your bottoms next to your school bag.

Your shoes are downstairs, his parents always had slippers to offer at the door whenever you and/or his other friends would come over. It was the only thing they were really strict on when it came to him. You look inside your bag, nothing but schoolbooks and the binder you used for all your note taking, you throw it out the window and into one of the bushes in front of his house.

You look for your phone, on the dresser with some old DVDs of movies that his mother still had, none of them were really interesting except for this one you really enjoyed. ‘Your Name Engraved Herein’, it always made him cry, you had to comfort him after the movie but no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it’s okay, he just continued to bawl into your shoulder about how amazing this movie was.

Maybe it was because you didn’t pay attention to the movie, more focused on his expression as he experienced the movie, he’d tell you little tid bits and explained it to you afterwards when you told him you didn’t really understand. There was always commentary with him when it came to movies, you loved every second of his little movie watching sessions, friends would throw popcorn and hush him, but you eagerly leaned in to hear him whisper small facts about the movies he’d have you all watch.

Even when he finished explaining the movie you didn’t get it, but he told you: “I cried every time I’ve watched this movie without fail, ever since I was like in middle school, my mom would watch this movie, and it would be me and her crying our eyes out over it.”

You grabbed your phone, around the 20% mark it was mainly just texts from your mother about spending the night at his again, she would tell you that you were messing up the future she was perfectly crafting for you and that you needed to learn more discipline before college started. It was always grades, attendance, and extracurriculars with her.

You only did the bare minimum, average grades, average attendance, and chess club.

Your mother hated it.

“He's bringing you down! His parents don't even care about what he's up to! You think I'm gonna let you mess everything I have going for you for some low life boy who can't even follow something as simple as wearing a uniform to school?”

You defended him, like you always did, why wouldn't you? He was there for you when you were down, always there for you, like he was there for you this weekend. You kept scrolling through messages; besides your mother, it was only him who would text you daily.

You had people you studied with, your mother’s friends’ kids, and the family you were already distant with. You had to get home. You slid all your clothes on before you peeped your head through the door, the sound of the shower running and music coming from the speaker he took in the shower with him blaring through the empty house.

His father worked on weekends and his mother went grocery shopping Sunday, “Was it Sunday?” You thought out loud, you couldn’t think about the time you were last back at your house, you made your way down the stairs and towards the door when you found your shoes.

You slip them on and then make your way out; after closing the door you pick up the rock from the little pond, they had next his porch, you lock the door and place the key back where it belongs. You go through the bushes, searching for your bag and a huff out of frustration when you dust the dirt off of it.

There's another huff as you sling the bag over your shoulder and then silence, there's sounds of nature from his neighborhood and now her you were just walking down the street, hoping on the next bus and another back towards the apartment your mother and you shared.

As you unlock the door your mother sits on the couch, she's watching her programs with the same 4 speakers on the different channels she's gone through in the past

“At his place again?” And the way she can't even say his name, it melts off her tongue like a slur and you can't help but bite back a response before she gets up. “Well, how was it? His family feed you?” You shook your head, “No, ma'am. His parents weren't home.”

Why would you say that?

You see the anger in her face, “Oh?” The woman makes her way over to you, there's no hesitation in your stature as it's a routine check. The way she pulls down the collar of your shirt leaves your breath to hitch, you try to snatch her wrist only for her long and jagged nails to scratch at the skin of your palm leaving you to hiss in pain.

There's no surprise with the number of dark marks that were collected by the boy, it was his first time as much as it was yours. You feel the warmness in your cheeks before your mother's eyes burn into you, her stare boiling you alive as you do nothing but just stare at the ground.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” Your name is a bark of a command, called out like a show dog to those she wants to impress then kicked at like a mutt the rest of the time. You pull your head up, you don't want anymore imprints in your cheeks, your acne already fucking up your face as is.

“What did you two do?” You roll your eyes, mumbling ‘Nothing.’ before she snatches up your jaw, those nails now cut up the pimples on your face to leave the pus to pop out You want to whine, cry like a child, ‘Mommy! Stop! You're hurting me!’ You, unfortunately, allow this with your eyes creasing and a small frown rugging on your lips that seems don't only make her madder.

“Your breath reeks of weed and alcohol. I can't believe you'd go and mess around with that boy, after everything I told you!” The woman lets out a pained sigh, as if her coming to spit in your face and yell at you was somehow your puppeteering her to do so. “What if he got you pregnant? How could you do something so dumb! It doesn't even surprise me, he probably talked you into it–Knowing his little delinquent self and his little gang he's probably riddled with some type of disease.”

You want to tell her off, he would never do something like that, all his friends are different from him, they're all a bunch of party goers that just want to do narcotics and fuck each other silly.

“He's not like that.” You strained out of your pursed lips, your mother's tongue smacks against the roof of her mouth, “The boy is nothing but spoiled. His parents just give, give, give, give, and give to some little freeloader who's going to do nothing for his life besides leaching off his parents' money.” You can't hear this anymore.

“He's actually trying to get a job!” Your mother cackles, “Oh yeah? He's getting a job?” “Yes!” “Well, why doesn't he already have one like you do? You got your own job at the library when you were 14, you were obedient then, before you met that little…” There's a seething rage in the woman, she's sucking at her teeth, and she'll be grinding them into a fine powder if she continues.

You bite your tongue, he had definitely had an impact on you, like he always has. You wanted to try and dye your hair one day with him, layer your outfits, be outside of the uniform, wear make up, dress up on those days where you were allowed casual dress, and take your time with life in general.

Those nights he'd stare at stars on the roof with you, he'd point up and explain how sometimes he felt so small in this world. “This is really the one way I can try and be in impact on such a big world!” He gestures to his brightly colored outfit; you find yourself lost in his expression as it's just a nice mix of brightly colored acrylics that melded with his tanned skin.

You admire him.

Even as spit hits your face you're left with the same rant over and over again, “I work hard at my job so you have all the tools not to end up like me, slaving away for some ungrateful brat of a child, instead never having kids and being happy you don't have to waste your money on some freeloader until it's too late.”

Your mother took responsibility to raise you, even after your father was distant to the idea, it be some apparent that these two were working in separate directions that only pulled you apart.

Honestly, if it wasn't for him, you'd be on the ground with a full bottle of pills being guzzled down your throat.

Your mother notices your expression and she huff, “Stop being around, hanging around him, being around him, he'll do nothing but drag you down and he won't be doing you any good in the future other than a book up for narcotics.” The woman gets all in your face, “You wanna end up like me? I only stopped doing all those things once I found out I was pregnant with you! Do you really want to end up like me?”

Strikes a nerve.

You never wanted to be like your mother, her sad life with a child who could only resent their mother, her boyfriend who abandoned her to go do more drugs, and no one to fall on. It's sad, you feel for her, you see where she's coming from you, and you sigh upon seeing her fall to her knees to grab at yours.

The woman sobs into your thighs, wincing at the familiar grip from the night before most definitely bruising them from such harsh treatment, “Pl-ease!” The squeak in her voice as she says your name, she is begging and all you can do is try to comfort a woman who has never taught you how to comfort someone. You rub her head, and she sighs, sniffling a bit before she continues, “I don't want you to end up like me! Don't love someone who's only going to bring you down! I know you can do better!”

Your mother wouldn't tell you it now, but you were now stuck with this. Your mother always knew if you were around him, she worked there as the librarian. You were called to stay later helping your mother, doing more on campus, and a demand for straight as after a C in an AP course came up.

It wasn't surprising since the both of you took the same class.

You couldn't let your mother win but here you were, letting her win, and you could do nothing as you found her beginning to bring the hammer down. “I can't let ever you make a mistake that big again.” You were tested for everything; she kept track of your periods and was around you whenever you had free time.

“You've been summoned to the library,” The dreaded phone call before you left class, it killed something in you when you and he could barely talk most days. You guys didn't really share class, even when he went out his way to take APs it became apparent to him how much harder it was for him to really keep up with you.

Those daily ‘Good morning!’ messages fell into weekly ‘Have a good week!” texts. Not because of him, but because of you. You couldn't even keep up with everything, once your mother pinpointed the college you needed to get into or she'd kick you out, simply if you applied yourself the way your mother wanted.

But it meant you'd have to leave him behind…

D-S ▼⁠・⁠ᴥ⁠・⁠▼

Hey! I know last night was a lot. I'm sorry if I messed up, I know I wasn't going to be the best but I’m sure you'll have other people do it way better than me!

1:30 PM 9/05

Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!

9:45 AM 9/06

When do you get off work today?

4:30 PM 9/06

I'm getting pizza, do you want me to get you a box???

2:49 PM 9/14

Y'know one for now, one for when you're depressed! I finally got the reference!

2:58 PM 9/14

Are you okay?

3:24 AM 9/30

Did I do something wrong?

3:25 AM 9/30

I'm sorry if I did anything wrong

3:29 AM 9/30

I mean that, I'm really sorry

3:33 AM 9/30

Can we talk?

3:34 AM 9/30

We haven't like sleep called in forever, and it would give us time to talk stuff out, whatever I did wrong you can tell me.

3:45 AM 9/30

Please?

3:48 AM 9/30

I didn't know you and Ange became friends I always thought you both hated each other.

12:39 PM 10/19

I didn't do our matching costumes it felt like a disservice if it wasn't with you.

4:29 PM 10/30

Dude, family's being weird, wish you were here!

7:38 PM 11/28

Happy Holidays, I got you something! Do you know when I can come over and give it to you?

11:29 AM 12/25

Hey, I'm having this new year party! Y'know like new year new me! I plan on trying out for stuff like sports and getting on my academics!

9:28 AM 12/31

I'm tryna get like you!

9:40 AM 12/31

My parents asked about you today, they were like ‘When are you coming over?’ and ‘What are you up to these days?’

10:02PM 1/17

Happy Valentine's Day, I know you got a lot of stuff cause you're just cool like that

10:38AM 2/14

Even I got you something!

10:38 AM 2/14

Lmk when I can give it to you!

10:38 AM 2/14

I'm sorry for being annoying this year, I really am sorry for anything I did to you. Have a good time in college!

11:00 AM 6/30

You began to avoid him, he'd go to the library to rent out a book and watch as you restock, he'd text you and you'd have the read receipt there just to think about responding to him only to put the phone down, you walk around campus without a care, cordial whenever faced with head on confrontation, and that's how it was until you graduated.

You went off, pursued your own interest in space your mother said it was your choice to study nut it needed to make enough money for you and her. Now you were just as excited to get on and do things outside of your mother now that you were finally free from the woman. You decided to take all your classes online, you'd had this internship lined up for you and nothing could bring you more joy than joining the manpower in space.

There's a big smile on your face as you meet your comrades, Curly, your pilot and Jimmy, the Co-Pilot, you'd be shadowing the two for tour duration of their trip on the Pony Express. Anya, the nurse, who would be the only woman on the ship, you loved to be around her and her little jokes. Then there was Swansea, he wouldn’t stop complaining about having some intern, “They better pull their weight.” The man grumbled out.

You weren’t shocked to find out you guys were waiting on another guy, the two of you added last minute on behalf of the Pony Express, finally a guy popped through the door, explaining that he was at a party the night before celebrating Earth before he had to leave. Your eyes crease as you examine the man’s features, ‘No fucking way.’

That lovingly sun kissed complexion that had the contrast of his brighter highlights against his already chestnut colored hair. There, on his face, stood the markers for where you kissed on him that night, a mole under his right eye and the left mole lower down his round cheeks.

The fact that he couldn't even wear the uniform alone almost made you fall before him, he hadn't changed in ways you thought he would, and it tore at your heartstrings to realize how much you missed him. The familiar sound of the two bangles on his wrist that contrasted the red wrist band he wore that you also had from the first party he took you to.

There's a plethora of excuses that rush out of his mouth, and you just listen to now his voice only be one softer to your ears. Earning its way into your eardrums to nestle in your memory in order to haunt you for the rest of your stay.

While the group continues to get everything on the ship there's a silence that falls between the two of you when his eyes finally land on you. Your friend was a day you could never forget, the morning after your happiest night alive, you'd coo into his ear that you loved him, and he'd do the same with a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Yet, here you were, reliving those memories and wondering how the fuck do you even start the conversation. You watch as he makes his way over, your rib cage encased around your organs before crushing them like a corset.

With each step your breath hitches, your eyes faltering between looking him in the eyes only for your nostrils to fill with disgustingly sweet peach cologne he had to have. Why wear something like that for all these years? You're grateful he would even wear something like this to this day.

There's a hand on front of you, wide open with some rings on his fingers, his fingers spread a bit and when you take one last inhale of his cologne you pull your head up to look him in the eyes. There's a warmness in his face, it hasn't worn down and has only brightened since you last saw him, you feel your heart clench as you hear his voice.

“Heya! I'm Daisuke, I’m psyched to be working with someone as new as me!”

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[juyeoz]

GOOD GRACES — YANG JUNGWON

003 ┆ mistakes my evil twin (0.8k words)

The Decelis Academy’s Atheltic Committee (in other words, DAAC) club room wasn’t the biggest. It was the size of your average classroom, yet it was decorated to satisfy the needs of the said club members.

The sunlit room felt warm and fuzzy as any autumn day would have felt. It was the perfect place to relax.

“That’s pretty much it. Just need a few more helpers for the upcoming tournament and bulletin boards in the hallway.” Wonyoung said, wrapping up her part of the meeting with her eyes still on the projector.

“Any questions?” She asked, looking over at the familiar group of faces.

“Should we also create advertisements to join the club? I know we’ll need more hands when the other sports come, but I doubt the morning announcements are enough since many people tune them out.”

Wonyoung took in Ningning’s words, letting them ease into her mind. She wasn’t wrong, not at all. Truly, she had an amazing point which only left Wonyoung feeling satisfied.

“Yes, I definitely agree with that.” She said with a smile.

“Do you want to work on that, Ningning?”

“I don’t mind, I have a lot of time on my hands anyway.” She replied, replicating the smile Wonyoung held on her lips.

“Alright, if that’s everything, (Name), you can take over now.” Wonyoung insisted.

You rose up from your seat, gaining an irritated expression and groaning from the male who sat a few rows in front of you—the captain of the boys volleyball team.

Or, in other words, Yang Jungwon.

“Shut up,” you muttered while walking past his seat. He rolled his eyes at your response and slouched down into his chair.

“It’ll take an extra 5 minutes…” You said while preparing the projector to portray your photos. A few awkward moments of silence went by with you adjusting your photos to enlarge on the projector.

However, eventually, you succeeded.

“Okay, so, I was just wondering about some basic things!” You began while clasping your hands together and moving out of the way.

“I took some pictures for the basketball posters and wanted to hear your thoughts on them—”

The sudden sound of a phone ringing was enough to silence your voice as everyone’s heads turned to face the culprit.

“Sorry, one moment.” Wonyoung said with an apologetic smile and walked out of the classroom.

A snicker escaped Jungwon’s lips, causing him to receive a glare from you upfront.

“As I was saying, I already prepared a poster with an image which will be posted tomorrow, but just for future purposes.” You explained while switching to the poster in question.

“Here it is—”

“Who approved of this?” A voice questioned, cutting you off once again.

You inhaled deeply and looked over to the crowd of students, picking up the irritated expression on the one and only Yang Jungwon’s face.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” You asked.

“The quality could’ve been much higher. I can’t even read the text in the middle.”

“I’ll remake it then.” You simply said. You didn’t want to argue with him under such a time limit.

“Why not just use a photo that was taken during a match?” He continued.

“There’s not many taken. I could just fix it up later.”

“There’s nothing that ties Decelis Academy to the poster other than our school name. It could say almost anything and you’d just be swapping words around.”

You hated his voice. It was so irritating, almost causing you to fume up into flames. Despite that, you had to keep your cool.

“At least use a photo of the team.”

“I don’t have an—”

“You should have a higher standard for things. People wouldn’t even bat an eye at something so boring. In other words, that.”

The clubroom’s atmosphere was suffocating. The tension was evident and only made everyone else antsy and uncomfortable. They didn’t want to make anything worse, part of them hoping Wonyoung would return soon.

In their favour, the door clicked open and showcased another apologetic Wonyoung. She slipped her phone down into her pockets and closed the door behind her.

“Unfortunately, time is up. I’m sorry, (Name). If anything you can text the group chat, okay?” She said as you nodded in response.

Your eyes shifted over to Yang Jungwon, the most irritating volleyball player you’ll ever meet.

He was leaning back into his chair with his head tilted to the right and arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

You hated how innocent he looked as if he wasn’t the cause of this all. You hated how the bell went, leaving you with no time left. You hated how he collected his belongings, swinging his backpack over one shoulder and walked past you in silence with his hands in his pockets.

It was almost as if you weren’t even there.

Nevertheless, most importantly, you hated Yang Jungwon all together and to you, that will never change.

PREVIOUS MASTERLIST NEXT

ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST — @miumura @macapunoz @kxppachu

GOOD GRACES TAGLIST — @anuisamazing @garrdenwon @dreamiestay @starfallia @mrchweeee @mymelodyfanatic @getoxo @jiamini @imnotyizhuo @heartheejake @wonlluvie @theothernads @yvjw @riribelle @winuvs @shotaddicted @hollxe1 @pinknjm @en-dream @elegancefr @wensurr @enhaz1 @r1kification @sunghxxnie @unhakki @hoonieluv @veilico @ddolleri @ahnneyong @samyria

© JUYEOZ

[fervent-adoration]

So you wanna know my favorite guys ever? (My main f/os, these are my main f/os from each media I love-) Okay okay I'll tell you (no one asked but this is a more comprehensive f/o list from me)

It's time to GET SILLAY!!!

This is just... my FAVORITES list. My main f/os. I have more f/os but. These are the big ones. That occur so frequently...

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

(Future) Trunks (DBZ/DBS), unsure about sharing. - He’s my boyfriend. (Finally, after all these years- He just properly started being my boyfriend here in the good year of 2025.) I love him very genuinely, y’know? He means a LOT to me, he was my first favorite DB character and I will continue to adore him thoroughly. I’ve loved him since like… 2019. My 80s looking boyfriend <3 

His tag is #ss: ever wonder if it's all for you?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Granolah (DBS), non-sharing - He’s my husband. I’ve loved him since 2022 and that is NOT changing anytime soon! I cannot explain to you what got me so down bad, but if you ever ask, I’ll positively infodump onto you about my relationship with him. My deeply traumatized and vengeful husband <3333

His tag is #ss: already got the life

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Clavicus Vile (The Elder Scrolls), non-sharing - What even is he. Not my boyfriend. Not a husband. He’s just… My guy. My dear deity. Anyway I’ve known him since 2014 and REALLY loved him since late 2021, so he’s just here for me. I can answer a LOT of questions about him so feel free to askkkk. My prince.

His tag is #ss: prince's consort

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Troy Calypso (Borderlands), sharing - My boyfriend. He’s been with me since 2022 and I don’t regret it for even a moment- He’s… a special guy, y’all. I enjoy talking about him, so if you have any questions, I'll probably be able to answer them. My influencer/cult leader boyfriend <3

His tag is #ss: gods don't negotiate

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Dracule Mihawk (One Piece), sharing - My husband. I’ve been very fond of him since about February 2024. He’s so cool… He makes me melt a little sometimes. How silly. And LOOK AT THOSE EYESSSS! Anyway. My goth husband.

His tag is #ss: bed of roses

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Caesar Zeppeli (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure), sharing - My boyfriend. He’s been my boyfriend since late 2020! I love him very much. If you think he died, no he didn’t, don’t even play with me. I've habitually struggled with verbalizing my thoughts on him but we're working on it. My old fashioned boyfriend <3

His tag is #ss: only one of me

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

This is... Basically my "priority f/o" list. I have more! But these are my most important ones. I also have some Pokemon f/os but... I can't pick a favorite!! So they are not here. Also, even with f/os I share, I do want to note that I am NOT seeking out other selfshippers of them. I just don't mind if we cross paths, and wouldn't block over it, you know? Okay there we go post over <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting 'part 2?' is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You sit at the dining table with your laptop, hiding behind the screen as you try to figure out what to do. How do you get this man to leave? Better, how do you do that without making him angry?

You stare at the unfinished project in front of you. You're not going to get paid for blurry pixels. Work is the least of your worries.

You peek over the top of the laptop and blanch as the subtle movement catches his eye. He grins and sits up, “need something, sweetie?”

“Uh, nope,” you put your eyes down and the screen goes fuzzy.

“Hm,” he hums into a grunt and heaves himself up, “you haven’t made any videos yet. What about your shopping trip huh? You gonna edit some of that.”

“Erm, maybe later, I have work stuff–”

“You know,” he nears and stands across the round table, looming menacingly with his hands on his hips, “you could probably quit all that if you committed to your streams. Lotsa people wanna watch a sweet girl like you.”

“That’s nice but I don’t even have ten followers,” you chuckle.

“Mm, maybe, but… I could help you,” he offers.

“Really, it’s fine,” your voice trembles, “it’s… it’s just a way to get my thoughts out, that's all.”

He clucks and clears his throat, looking around, “well, I guess I’ll go get my stuff.”

“Um, sure,” you look at him again then peek at the keys hung by the door.

He whistles, “Aika, come, you probably needa go.”

The dog rises from beside the couch and follows him to the door. You get up, heart flipping. You need to just lock the door. As long as he doesn’t–

He grabs the keys and shoves them deep in his pocket. He hooks the leash onto Aika’s collar as she stands obediently before him. He grins over at you, “don’t worry, sweetie, won’t be long at all.”

He turns and unlocks the door, swinging it inward as he lets the German shepherd lead the way. You deflate and fall back onto the chair. Holy shoot! What are you going to do? Nothing you can think of makes sense. He doesn’t make sense. It’s as if he really believes you know each other. That this is his home.

You bend over your lap and hold your head, rocking as you let out a drone. The panic is so bad you can’t hold it in. The noise escaping you is inhuman. You know you’re too weak, too afraid to do anything. So what? You’ll just let him take over your home?

You quiet and stay as you are, hunched over your legs. Are you going to let him do whatever he wants? To you?

Your blood runs cold and you sit up slowly. You’re dizzy as the silence rings in your ears. You stare across the room, only able to see a glimpse of the door frame.

You don’t know what you’re going to do.

You’re paralysed. You hardly believe it yourself, you don’t think anyone else will either. The thought of explaining it is embarrassing on its own.

You’re being stupid. You need to tell someone. Anyone.

You hear him before he enters. He opens the door, pausing as he lets Aika off the leash. She sniffs around as the door shuts heavily.

Sy appears, a large bag of kibble balanced on one shoulder as he carries a military duffle in his other hand. He drops the latter and brings the former into the kitchen. You stand, hollow as you make yourself move. You go to the doorway to the kitchen and watch him search your cupboards.

“Ladybird needs a bowl,” he says, “she’s hungry.”

“Oh,” you utter dumbly and blink. You’re stuck where you are.

His cheek dimples and he returns his attention to his search. He takes out the pink plastic bowl you use for salad and he uses a measuring cup to scoop out the kibble. You just watch as he puts it on the floor for Aika as she sits patiently.

He stands and she does too, eagerly scarfing down the food, flicking slobber all over your salad bowl. Sy faces you and you flinch as he comes near, reaching for you. You back away.

“Sweetie?” He says, “what’re you doing?”

“I… I…” you rub your arm, “how long are you planning on… staying?”

He scoffs, “what? Ah, come on, sweetie, you’re funny. “

“I’m… I’m serious,” you quaver, “I didn’t… we just met.”

His face falls and so does your heart. His expression turns dire and he crosses his arms. Aika seems to notice his shift and quits her loud chomping. She raises her nose, letting out a low growl. You gulp. He has that same glint in his eye as in the truck when he nearly rear-ended that other driver.

“Sweetie, I told you, I've been watching you all this time. You know, I was your first follower,” he takes a step closer and you take one back. “I know you.”

“Right, uh,” you push your hands together and bend your fingers back, “I understand, it’s just…” you can hardly breathe, “I guess I misunderstood. Of course you can stay, but… you know, I only bought enough groceries for me and… and it’s a small place.”

He considers you. He runs his hand over his beard and exhales loudly. He drops his other arm and tilts his head side to side, cracking the bones, “so we can get nice and snuggly, sweetheart.”

He nears you again, quickly, before you can elude him. He catches you around the back of the head and urges you close. He leans in and kisses your hairline. You freeze and let him. He purrs before he draws away.

“Right, I’ll get cleaned up,” he lets you go, “you can finish your work or… get cozy.”

You nod and stare past him. Aika once more chews loudly as your eyes settle on her straight back. You’re trapped. Your home is now a prison.

You stay like that until you hear the pipes whine and the shower buzzes to life. You glance over, the bathroom door slightly ajar. Mortified, you retreat to the table and sit behind the computer. You know the excuse won’t hold up much longer but you can at least pretend to be busy.

Aika’s claws tap on the tile as you hear her lay near the door. You can’t even run. His loyal guard dog isn’t just keeping people out, she’s keeping you in.

You put your hands on the laptop as you hear the faucet crank off. The scented steam seeps out and dampens the air with the scent of your strawberries and cream soap. You shudder and minimize and maximize the window.

You listen to him. He opens and closes the cabinet several times as he lingers in the bathroom. The door opens and your ears tinge as you focus on the laptop. He steps out as you swirl your fingers on the touch pad.

“I feel better,” he sighs, “how about you, sweetie? Maybe you should have a nice long bath?”

“I’m good,” you utter dully.

“Hope you don’t mind, I used your hairbrush,” he crosses the room.

“No, it’s f–” your eyes flick up on instinct. You swallow as your eyes round. He has only a towel around his waist, the rest of him brazenly bare. “Fine.”

You rip your gaze away and accidentally exit out of the editing software. You try to wipe the image of him from your mind. His thick muscles, the dark hair across his chest and stomach, and over his thick thighs. There’s little left to the imagination or doubt. The sight of him confirms his unbeatable strength.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“N-nothing,” you insist.

“You’re being all shy. What’s going on, huh?” You shake your head as he comes around the table. He presses the laptop shut until you retract your hands. You sit back and look at your hands. “You’ve been working long enough. Come on, sweetie.”

“I… I have a project to finish–”

“And that’s more important? How long have I waited to be with you? Over there in the sh– in the chaos?” He says, offering his large hand, “I got you something. I wanna show it to you.”

“I…” you rasp and peer up at his face, too afraid to look anywhere else. “Okay.”

You give in. Your surrender. He’s a soldier and he’s won the battle. You take his hand and stand up.

He takes you into the front room and leads you to the couch. He stops you in front of it and gestures you to wait. You do and he disappears around the other side of you.

He returns with his duffle bag and puts it in the chair. He keeps his back to you as he unzips it. You peek up and your eyes cling to the scars along his burly back. Just beneath his shoulder and another along his side. Through the fear, you feel a pang of sympathy for him. He must have been through a lot.

“I bought you something,” he says, “when I was driving up.”

He turns and shows you a dainty piece of fabric hanging from his index fingers. You gape at the pale pink bodysuit; flowers in a darker shade trim the corset and the tops of the cups are subtly scalloped. You love the colours but you would never dare to wear anything like that.

“Uh, wow,” is all you can get out.

“Just you know for a special occasion,” he smiles, “it’ll look real nice on you. It’s your colour.” He steps closer as he holds it out to you, “I showed the lady your picture and she said it would be nice on your skin tone.”

You feel like you’re going to faint. Is he really giving you a piece of lingerie? You take it and examine the thin material.

“Obviously, not tonight since we’re settling in and all that,” he chuckles, “but you know… if you wanted to…”

“I’m… I’m going to put this away,” you croak.

You move past him, slowly as if wading through water. You go to the bedroom and cross to the dresser. You stand before it as you stare at the fabric. Your chest aches as you hold a breath inside.

“Ah, still pretty tidy in here,” Sy comments from behind you.

You pull open the top drawer and hide the bodysuit. A shiver rolls through you as you shut it and turn to the intruder. You watch helplessly as he invades every inch of your life.

“You did such a good job, sweetie,” he praises as he nears the bed and plops his bag on it, “watching you clean… it’s admirable how determined you are.”

He reaches in his bag and takes out a stack of folded clothing. You blink as he strides over to the dresser and pulls open a drawer. You sway as you resist the urge to ask what the heck he’s doing. He makes room beside your clothes and shoves his inside.

As he stands, he adjusts the towel hanging lower on his waist than before. You turn away. As much as you don’t like him touching all your things, his nakedness is even more off putting. Most disturbing is his lack of self-awareness. Frankly, it’s frightening.

He unpacks, bit by bit, and rolls open the closet to put his empty bag inside. He goes back to the dresser to shut the top drawer he left open but his hand curls around the top. He dips inside and lifts out a pair of your panties; the ones speckled with printed on bows.

“I like these,” he says, “they’re cute, like you.”

“Thanks, I…” you murmur. “I…” Your mouth is dry and chalky, “I need some water.”

“Aw, sweetie, you look faint,” he drops the panties and approaches you. “Why don’t you sit down?”

He urges you onto the edge of the bed, his hands on your shoulders. He looks down on you as you tilt your head to peer back at him. He looks so big. He keeps his hands on you, gripping tighter, and for a moment, you’re not sure what he’s going to do and you think he is even less certain.

He pulls his hands away and shakes them out, “I’ll get you some water,” he says, “you had a long day, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum and lower your chin, your hands shaking in your lap.

You did this. You welcomed this man in. More than letting him drive you home or cross the threshold of your apartment, you put yourself online, exposed yourself to the public. You heard the horror stories before, the true ones, but you just never thought it would happen to you.

[goosewriting]

Falling for you - Part 2

summary: part 2 of falling for you, where reader falls into the rottmnt world and comes across the turtle brothers.

relationship: Rise Leo x gn!reader

warnings: none! 

word count: 1.7k 

A/N: did i totally forget about posting the second part to this? perhaps. did a recent comment remind me of it? could be. was i delighted to find a practically finished version of this in my wips, almost ready to post? absolutely. sorry for the wait, hope you like it!

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — — 

Climbing out of bed, Leo silently made his way to the projector room only to find an empty couch.

You were gone without a trace.

Or so he thought.

Turns out, you had gone to the kitchen to get something to drink. You were way too shaken up to sleep after what you pulled. The confession had all kinds of feelings and thoughts going through you, confusing you further.

Leo saw you as you came back into the projector room. You were startled at his presence, almost dropping your glass.

The words from earlier echo in your head: “You are loved. You are worthy. You are a good leader. You are a good brother. And if I am still here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next… I wish for nothing more than to be by your side.” That’s what you had told him. To the turtle, you were a complete stranger. Ugh, you thought, as you tried to will away the embarrassment from your face that was resulting in a weird blush.

“You’re awake,” you said after clearing your throat. Leo didn’t answer immediately, and a slight panic started settling in you.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m just…” he stumbled over his words. “I also came to get a drink.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

“Uh-huh…”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you two. 

“I heard what you said earlier,” Leo started, and you let out something between a sigh and a snort. With a shaky breath, you approached the couch which was your bed for the night, sitting down.

This is what I get for being so worked up over blorbo feelings, you thought bitterly. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?!

“Can I…?” Leo asked as he stood by the couch.

“Yeah,” you said as you patted the spot next to you.

After he sat down, you just sit there in silence for a moment as you sipped your water, then set down the glass on the little side table.

“I’m guessing you want an explanation, huh,” you decided to start. 

“Yeah, uh, what you said was very… specific,” he replied with narrowed eyes. 

“Gosh, how do I explain it,” you said, more to yourself than him. “So, uhm…”

You closed your eyes to think of a feasible story, cutting out certain points here and there until you landed on something decent.

“Let’s put it like this,” you started explaining. “I come from a place far away, and I've known about you and your brothers for a long time.”

Leo thought it over for a moment.

“So you’re like, from the future?”

“Something like that, sure.”

“How did you end up here?” he asked after a moment. You sighed.

“To be completely honest, I don't even know. I don't know how to get back, or if I can get back at all. In fact, I don’t know if back in… in my world… if I’m gone there. If everyone I know thinks I just… disappeared. Or if at some point I’ll get back there, appearing in the same moment I left. It will be like nothing happened for the rest. Like at the end of the first Narnia movie, I guess.”

“The narn- what?” Leo questioned with a slight tilt of the head. 

“Never mind,” you corrected yourself, and another silence took over. You cast your eyes down to the floor.

“I can’t tell you about certain events and such, but, I bet you have questions so, feel free to ask them,” you offered without looking at him. He thought it over.

“Well, you said–” A slight blush creeped up on his face. “–you said I am loved. And a good brother and leader. Where did that come from?”

You leaned back into the couch, draping your arm over your eyes and smiling at nothing in particular, if only the awkward situation you found yourself in.

“I know you think you’re the funny one of the bunch. Always cracking jokes. Which I think are actually funny, by the way,“ you replied, and your smile faded as you put your arm back down. “But I also know that sometimes you doubt yourself. And I just wanted you to know that… you're on the right track.”

Leo shifted slightly on the couch, and when you looked up, looking for his gaze, he looked away rather uncomfortably. You bit the inside of your cheeks.

“And look, I know this sucks. Some random person you almost ran over suddenly telling you all this. But I legitimately don’t know if I’ll just disappear one moment or the next, so I just wanted you to know.”

“Why though?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Because I genuinely like you,” you replied without hesitation. Your genuine response caught him by surprise, and he straightened up slightly, but then a little grin spread on his face.

“So, if you’re from the future, it’s like you have a crush on a historical figure and now you’re meeting your hero, right?”

You chuckled.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

His hand came to his chin and he thought something over. 

“Maybe we just started on the wrong foot then.”

Folding one of his knees onto the couch so he could sit sideways, facing you, he stretched out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Leo.”

You smiled, taking his hand in yours for the second time that day, and told him your name.

“Delighted to finally meet you,” you added. 

“Always happy to meet a fan,” he said with a wink, and you chuckled at his antics.

“If you don’t have any plans tomorrow,” he continued, almost shyly. “Maybe I could take you out for a spin? And show you around the city.”

“I’d love that,” you replied with a warm smile.

“It’s a date then,” he said as he stood up, but realising what he said, he stumbles over his words to try and save it. You raised your hands to calm him down. 

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” you offered with a playful shrug. 

“Right, well uh. Good night then.”

With that he turned on his heels and left for his bedroom, leaving you all sorts of confused and excited for tomorrow. 

– – – – –

The next day, you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Remembering the events of the day before, you sat up on the couch, looking around to find yourself still in the lair. You didn’t know if you were relieved or stressed about it.

What if you’d actually never make it back home? Was this your life now, spending the rest of your days in a fictional world?

Standing up with a stretch, you made your way to the kitchen to join the turtles for breakfast. Well, “breakfast”; it was actually already the afternoon. But they’re essentially nocturnal, so you’d have to get used to their circadian rhythm if you were to stay here. The other turtles greeted you normally, so you concluded that Leo hadn’t told them about your conversation. Good. The less they knew, the better.

After some food and light-hearted conversation, Leo took you out around the city as promised. The first thing you did was getting new clothes, then you went for some snacks and sightseeing. By the time you were done, you were both sitting on one of the taller buildings of New York, watching the last sun rays disappear behind the horizon.

Your legs dangled over the ledge, with your chin resting on your arms over the lowest bar of the railing, and you sighed. No matter how much you wanted to enjoy this outing and time spent with Leo the freaking teenage mutant ninja turtle, there was this one thought hovering over your head, like a fly trying to land on your food. No matter how much you kept swatting it away, it just kept coming back. 

“What’s on your mind?” Leo asked after a while, already being able to read you like a book. 

“I just can’t shake this feeling of… I don’t even know what to call it,” you replied with a sharp exhale. “Just the thought that any given moment, you might turn around, and then poof, I’m gone, you know? I don’t want to just leave like that.”

“I don’t want you to leave either…” he said in a low voice, and you turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Wait, really? You’re not… annoyed by me, barging in like this?”

“No, I mean–” he explained with a lopsided smile. “It’s definitely weird, but it's not a bad weird. It’s like someone finally gets me, really sees me.”

Tilting your head to the side, you leaned your cheek on your folded arms as you looked at him. The half moon markings on his face seemed to glow with the very last drops of sunlight, about to be engulfed by the night and replaced by the moon already peeking out from behind a veil of clouds. The loose straps of his bandana swayed in the breeze, and you were transfixed by this image.

“Yeah, I see you,” you breathed. 

For a moment, there was a strange peace that washed over you, like a familiar soothing voice telling you that it’s going to be okay. Leo held your gaze just as transfixed as you, eyes soft, something unreadable reflecting in them.

The turtle was just about to say something when his phone rang. It took him a second to tear his eyes away from you, then he answered the call; it was Donnie, urging him to come back as there had been a break-in and they had to retrieve some sort of artifact. 

Your heart quickened, immediately thinking of Hypno and… the worm guy – what was his name again? – stealing the key, and you straightened up.

“We gotta go.” Leo moved to stand up, but you held him down by his arm.

He gave you a quizzical look, and that was when you made up your mind: whatever timeline this was, with or without Casey, you’d make sure that the Krangpocalypse never happened. 

You leaned in, placing a quick peck to Leo’s cheek, and his breath hitched.

“Hey, you got this,” you said with a reassuring smile.

He got up to his feet and helped you up as well, holding onto your hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Will you stay?,” he asked, uncharacteristically shy, blush evident, peeking from under his mask. “With me?”

You gave his hand a squeeze back.

“As long as this universe will allow it.”

– – – – –

A/N2: just to clarify, i know the worm is called warren stone, i just wanted to keep the running joke that no one notices him lol 

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🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] i took the liberty of not only tagging those in the taglist for leo but also everyone in the comments of the first part. hope you’re still interested in this one! and if not, feel free to ignore the tag sdfasdfg

@theoriginalmintyyyshake, @dybynyght, @lieutenantlashfaz, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @sleebykei, @miso-sopas, @duckanon, @wings-of-sapphire, @ashtheboookworm2, @xxnoxx, @crystal-crax, @lunaramune, @luckynesser, @rowaaaaan || @mocchamck, @warrior-girl, @moroneur, @powerauerart, @soulaansugar, @xnorthstar3x, @leafyturtle, @justmare, @the-cute-witchy-writier