#fracture 2007

[cannibal-yearn]

Fracture (2007)

[butterfliessonata]

Fracture Fan Video - Losing My Religion

Watch on Vimeo

[faithfulsheepdog]

Plot Twist

I loooooooooooove a good plot twist. I love a story that keeps me guessing. I love a story that has a beautiful plot with lots of recurring themes and bookend events, and I love how writers can use seemingly "throw away" lines or moments in a story to be the cornerstone of the climax. I love when everything gets tied together in a bow at the end, and the payoff is satisfying.

Nothing gets me like a good story.

One of my favorite plot twist movies is a movie called Fracture. It's a legal crime psychological thriller where Anthony Hopkins plays this brilliantly conniving engineer who shoots his wife after discovering she was having an affair and Ryan Gosling who plays the prosecutor going up against Hopkins, only to find out the "open and shut" case he was given is far more twisted than he thought.

I can't and won't give anything away by it, but lemme tell ya, I was on the edge of my seat the ENTIRE movie. It was so good, and the ending! With that twist coming out of nowhere, like wow!

You ever feel like you're in a plot twist movie sometimes? You ever look at the events of your life and you're like "Where in the world is this going? How is this supposed to play out for my good?"

That's me right now if I'm being honest. I'm waiting for the plot twist. I'm waiting for this part of my story to make sense; I'm waiting for something to make me look back at this chapter and go "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"; I'm waiting for the pay-off.

If I tried to write/orchestrate my own story with what little perspective I have, I'd end up with a flop of a story. And look, my friends, I think I'm a decent writer. I've got some comments on AO3 that say so. But if I tried to write my life as a solo writer, I'd flunk. I know it.

Guess what! I don't have to be the solo writer of my story. The burden doesn't have to be placed on me.

I can hand over the pen to the Master Storyteller who has a far better perspective on life than I do, who never gets writer's block, who can pen a brilliant and beautiful story like no one else can, who loves a good plot twist (read as a both a good plot twist and a plot twist that works out for my good), and who is never surprised by what comes about from the story.

And boy, does He have a beautiful story in the making! For all of us!

I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are Your works; my soul knows it very well....Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. - Psalm 139:14;16 ESV (emphasis mine)

Before we were even born, God started mapping out our stories!

We know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them. For God knew His people in advance... - Romans 8:28-29a NLT "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will hear you. You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart." - Jeremiah 29:11-13 ESV

God can use the good, the bad, and the ugly - and everything in between - to write an amazing story for us. The plot twists will have us cheering, the detail that went into it all will leave us in wonder, and the payoff for each chapter will leave us feeling completely loved by the Master Storyteller, who loves us far more than we could ever imagine.

So today, whose script are you going to go with? Yours or God's? The choice is yours.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand ACTION!

[thelastgherkin]

TRANSFORMERS Deluxe Divebomb

Time to make like a banana and split.

[cappedinamber]

Fracture (2007)

Directed by Gregory Hoblit

Cinematography by Kramer Morgenthau

[darksidebitca]

😭

We're sitting here watching DVDs like caveman.

[nyc-looks]

Karis, 26

“I’m wearing a top with beadings, and a dress that titled itself as Tiffany Blue from High River on Taobao. The boots are No. 2201 Jolie Snaps by Paloma Wool. Stockings are The Emotional Fracture of Insects by Toetoe from China. The bag is a 2007 Christian Dior Polochon from Tokyo, just big enough for an iPad Pro. Necklaces are a. vintage Nina Ricci and a jade my mom gave me as an amulet. This morning I thought of that photo of Nicole Kidman full of joy as she leaves her attorney’s office. Maybe that’s the energy I’m going for subconsciously. Mostly, I dress for the weather, for fun, and whether I’ll get paint on me.”

May 10, 2025 ∙ Tribeca

[hashtagloveloses]

The headline is pretty awful but this is one of those things that gets worse as you read it:

The 14-page petition, filed in Shelby County, Tennessee, probate court, alleges that Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy, who took Oher into their home as a high school student, never adopted him. Instead, less than three months after Oher turned 18 in 2004, the petition says, the couple tricked him into signing a document making them his conservators, which gave them legal authority to make business deals in his name.

"Michael Oher discovered this lie to his chagrin and embarrassment in February of 2023, when he learned that the Conservatorship to which he consented on the basis that doing so would make him a member of the Tuohy family, in fact provided him no familial relationship with the Tuohys."

Oher was a rising high school senior when he signed the conservatorship papers, and he has written that the Tuohys told him that there was essentially no difference between adoption and conservatorship. "They explained to me that it means pretty much the exact same thing as 'adoptive parents,' but that the laws were just written in a way that took my age into account," Oher wrote in his 2011 best-selling memoir "I Beat the Odds."

But there are some important legal distinctions. If Oher had been adopted by the Tuohys, he would have been a legal member of their family, and he would have retained power to handle his own financial affairs. Under the conservatorship, Oher surrendered that authority to the Tuohys, even though he was a legal adult with no known physical or psychological disabilities.

While the [movie] deal allowed the Tuohys to profit from the film, the petition alleges, a separate 2007 contract purportedly signed by Oher appears to "give away" to 20th Century Fox Studios the life rights to his story "without any payment whatsoever." The filing says Oher has no recollection of signing that contract, and even if he did, no one explained its implications to him.

The [movie] deal lists all four Tuohy family members as having the same representative at Creative Artists Agency, the petition says. But Oher's agent, who would receive movie contract and payment notices, is listed as Debra Branan, a close family friend of the Tuohys and the same lawyer who filed the 2004 conservatorship petition, the petition alleges. Branan did not return a call to her law office on Monday.

"Mike's relationship with the Tuohy family started to decline when he discovered that he was portrayed in the movie as unintelligent," Stranch said. "Their relationship continued to deteriorate as he learned that he was the only member of the family not receiving royalty checks from the movie, and it was permanently fractured when he realized he wasn't adopted and a part of the family."

For years, Oher has chafed at how "The Blind Side" depicted him, saying it hurt his football career and clouded how people view him. He has said that based on the film, some NFL decision-makers assumed he was mentally slow or lacked leadership skills.

"People look at me, and they take things away from me because of a movie," Oher told ESPN in 2015. "They don't really see the skills and the kind of player I am."

"Beyond the details of the deal, the politics, and the money behind the book and movie, it was the principle of the choices some people made that cut me the deepest."

[daemonbrain]

"Anthem for a seventeen year-old girl"

Summary: After the turbulent year of 2007, your friendship with Satoru Gojo fractures under the responsibilities which separate the two of you. He's pulled on solo missions across the world and you're left vulnerable to schemes of marriage by your clan's elders. Feeling demoralized, you were stupid enough to believe that he would ever abandon you.

3k, cw: angsty, mentions of arranged marriage (between Naoya and reader), fluff, first love, they're both 17, he’s obsessed and loves you too much for this guys stressing this man out :(

a/n: Loosely based on song titled above! Happy reading everyone xx

It was all proprietary. All politics. 

You were a jujutsu sorcerer for god's sake! A first grade at that. This wasn’t what you were meant for. You weren’t meant to be used as a tool for clan schemes.

Yet here you were wilfully submitting to the absurd notion of marrying Naoya Zenin. 

Studying your reflection you scarcely recognize yourself. A year ago your eyes used to gleam with excitement for each day. Now you had the pleasure of staring back at your own lackluster, beady iris’s.

Your cheeks had become more gaunt, only emphasized by the way your hair was tautly pulled back. Dragging a gentle finger across your skin, you check to see if this was all even real. 

It was harder to accept the fact that you let this happen. A few people forget you exist and suddenly you’re on a full on down spiral.

You were instructed to have a natural beauty about you, to cover up the discolored eye bags which took away from your “feminine glow”. Those bastards. They speak as if they hadn’t played a hand in your dreary presence. Product coming out of a damn concealer bottle would never compare to the glow you had after a long day spent with your friends.

The thought made you want to scream and laugh all the same.

After a lengthy training session, everyone slumped on a bench at school, sweaty and tired. The second-hand smoke from Shoko puffing on her cigarettes. You really hated the smell, but couldn’t deny the small smile it brought to your lips remembering the way Shoko would roll her eyes whenever you said “it was bad for her”. She’d stick her tongue out before stomping the thing out after a couple minutes.

“You say smokings gross but make me watch you and Gojo all-” Whirling her arms around, she mimicked the way Satoru “clung” to you in her own words. She looked like she was groping the air. 

Shaking your head, you forcefully pull yourself from the thought of Satoru. You had to block his number a week ago, scared of what he’d say if he found out you were doing this. A part of you was more afraid of the possibility he wouldn’t say anything at all. He had left for a long mission somewhere in Africa, you hadn’t cared for the details, except when he told you he wouldn’t have phone reception.

Even the mention of him the past couple months made your skin prickle with goosebumps. He was in and out of your life, like he was just another one of the ghosts haunting you.

Your mind fleetingly conjures the image of your sweet, dead underclassman Haibara. You wonder how Nanami was doing? You should really send him a text, it had been a while since you had been on campus. There weren’t any other second years to keep him company and you doubt Shoko even had the time to think about him with all the tasks Yaga was handing off to her.

Coming back to your previous thoughts, you were more than aware that during those spring afternoons there was another person there. But you’d really start to cry if you thought of your raven haired friend-

…

Friend.

That’s not what Geto is anymore you remind yourself, an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut (You always hated lying to yourself).

Feeling your sinuses begin to burn, you beat those memories down with a stick. You wouldn’t want your mascara to run, the maid wouldn’t be happy to have to re-do the entire look less than an hour before the ceremony.

With a groan, you rest your head to the wood of your vanity, a thud reverberating around the empty room. This wasn’t your room of course, a random guest chamber of the Zenin family estate. Your room was a little dorm at Jujutsu High. Much prettier. With your TV, which somehow always ended up with Digimon playing on full volume. The polaroid pictures strung up on the walls. Your bed filled with plushies Satoru had won you at those dumb claw machines you never seemed to master.

Huffing out a breath, you hear your phone chime with a notification. Typing in your password, the bright screen light bounces off your unmoving expression. The flurry of messages you left alone last time are still waiting there for you to reply with something.

Shoko <3

Hey

Gojo and I went to that place u like

I almost forgot how much he talks about you

Lmk when ur free, we can go together next time

17 days ago

Helloooooo??

I just healed this huuuuuge cut on someones face

Sad you couldn’t see

Call me when you have some time 😵‍💫

13 days ago

Yaga was being all mysterious when I asked him about you

Just text back when u have the chance

8 days ago

(name) this is weird even for you

You haven’t been at the school in a month

Just tell me what’s wrong, I can try to help.

5 days ago

What the hell is going on??

Why did I just hear you were getting fucking married?

to Naoya Zenin of all people

I swear I know you’re seeing these

If I can’t track you down I'll get a hold of someone who can.

2 days ago

Gojo’s coming

1 minute ago

You felt your heart skip a few beats and your eyes widened like saucers. Satoru was meant to be on his mission in Africa still, he wasn’t meant to get home until tomorrow night at the earliest. Without a moment’s respite to figure out what you were going to do, a bang sounds out as the window is blown off its hinges.

Clutching on to the edge of your stool, your sorcerer instincts yell at you to flee when you're enveloped by the feeling of powerful, feral cursed energy wildly whipping at the air. This wasn’t right. It felt like Gojo, but it wasn’t controlled like him. You haven’t experienced such an influx of cursed energy from him since well- the incident. Crackling your fight or flight instincts to life, you force yourself to still when you see the tufts of white hair.

So Gojo was no longer in Africa upon further inspection…

When his icy blue eyes met yours, you realized you were so. screwed. 

The only thing that could be heard was Satoru’s pants, as if he had run the length of Morioka to Tokyo at record breaking speeds.

“What… the- ugh- fuck.” He caught his breath, beginning to scowl in a way only he could. “You better… have a good explanation.” Gojo inhaled deeply before fixing you with another incredulous stare. “Because this is Naoya’s wedding. You know, that little Zenin dickhead? Last I checked, you’re definitely not getting married. So what’s the deal?”

You could hear your pulse beating like crazy, blood rushing to match its speed. You gulped and opened your mouth to speak, oddly enough, when you most needed to; you couldn’t form a single word.

You gaped like a fish as Gojo’s narrowed eyes roved over your wedding garb and the ornate styling of your hair. 

The tendrils of cursed energy reigned themselves in. You could feel the way Satoru forced it when met with your big eyed expression.

“This isn’t happening. You can’t (name).” He couldn’t break his sights away from the heavy fabric which seemed to weigh ten tonnes on you now. Or maybe it was the way your legs began to feel like jelly when you tried to get up

“Gojo-” You began before he swiftly interrupted.

“What the hell are you thinking? I tried calling, texting, emailing you! Do you KNOW what that guy is like? The entire clan? What happened to sticking it to the elders, huh?!” His voice began to raise as he closed the gap between the two of you in a few strides.

Your face morphed into a glower as he did. Feeling that spine of steel you used to have come back, anger begins to rise in your chest, restrained like a beast inside your ribcage.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t talk to me like we’re in the same situation! Of course I know what he’s like. I'm not an idiot, but not all of us are-” You wave a hand gesturing to the whole of his lanky body, “-some… all powerful special grade. Or sorry… they say you’re the most powerful sorcerer alive now, don’t they?” You snapped at him. It felt like a dog gnashing its teeth after being pulled and poked at for too long.

Satoru’s brows pinched together and his mouth parted like he couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“Of course I know you’re not an idiot! You’ve always been smarter than me, which is why i’m finding it pretty hard to understand why you think this is a good idea? Me being strong doesn’t have anything-”

“Doesn’t it?! You used to be here, Satoru. And now that you’re ‘the strongest’ you’re off in New York one week and Manila the next. Everyone used to be here! Maybe this is just it. We all have to grow up eventually, maybe this is the path I have to be on.”

The words felt like acid in your mouth, putrid, untrue. 

Satoru let out a cross between a bitter laugh and scoff as he rolled his eyes. “ ‘Path I have to be on’ my ass. This isn’t you.”

Reaching for the big and decorative pin in your hair, his fingers wrap around the metal and pull. You tried grabbing on to his forearm, but are rebutted by the shield of infinity which constantly stayed around him now.

“I don’t care what other people say I am, I care that you’re hiding things from all of us. From me. Since when do you do that?” He continued.

“When could I have said something to you? Last week when you had no cell in Africa? Or maybe that one day you were in Tokyo before heading to Seoul? I don’t owe you explanations Gojo.”

One side of you hair is let free and his hands move to reach for something else.

“Don’t ‘Gojo’ me. You know you could have said something, I would have come back. You just chose not to because apparently you’d rather marry Naoya than talk to me! How’d they make you do it? There’s no way you’d do this on your own.”

He grabs for the second pin and your hair is ruined now. Was his grand plan to stop you making your hair messy? Oh no the bride’s hair is undone, cancel the whole thing!

Before he has the chance to reach for whatever else was holding your look together you yell at him again, like this was the two of you bickering which food spot to pick in first-year.

“Oh stop it!” You try and bat his hand away only to be met infinity again.

“No!” Now this really reminded you of first-year.

“Turn that stupid infinity off! I’m so sick of trying to touch you and being pushed away like i’m some curse.” You reach for him again, but feel the thrum of the impenetrable barrier surrounding him. A literal representation of the distance between the two of you.

You go silent for a breaths length.

“I can’t talk to you when there’s a wall between us.”

You enunciated it painfully slow, as if explaining it to a child. Because you weren’t just referring to his cursed technique.

His blue eyes went soft for a moment. Was he really so opposed to the idea of letting his guard down with one of his closest friends? You weren’t Suguru. You’d rather die than betray Satoru like that, than cause him the pain you knew he felt. You knew what he felt because you felt it in equal measures.

You drew a breath and released it back. Looking up at him, you had forgotten just how tall he was from this close. In the silence, you brought your forefinger forward, expecting to poke at his infinity. Instead, you’re met with the muscle of his chest. Him.

You just wanted to bury yourself into him. Pull him so tight the two of you just merged together. You wouldn’t even care how annoying he’d get after the first week, just as long as you could be with him all the time.

Without a moment's hesitation, you press your whole hand flat, feeling Satoru’s heart thump frantically. He looked as if he was trying to keep a straight face, but you saw the way his pale cheeks began to flush, the tips of his ears. The corners of his mouth quirked downwards.

“When did we all decide to just… move on? Because I don’t think I got that memo.” You couldn’t force the words you really wanted to say out of your mouth. When did you all decide to leave me behind? Why did you leave me alone?

Bringing his hand to yours, it fully covers it.

“If you think I’ve moved on, you might be more clueless than I thought.” His voice had lost the scornful edge, a quiet melancholy clouding his expression. 

Squeezing your hand, Gojo wills you to keep looking at him when your eyes begin to flicker to anything that wasn’t him. He always wanted your attention on him and you were never one to deny Satoru.

“I don’t know what’s going on but…” He swallows and pauses for a moment, like he was deciding something.

“Please. Don’t do this. I don’t care what happens after. if they try to stop you I’ll kill every elder, every Zenin until it’s just you and me left.”

Every bit of your resistance began to crumble. Satoru brought his hand to your cheek and he began to caress everything from the bridge of your nose to your eyelids, committing everything to memory as if he hadn’t done this half a hundred times before. It was different this time. More desperate.

“Please don’t. I really don’t need another massacre scandal, last year was more than enough.” You tried to joke, Gojo responding with a hollow laugh. Sensitive topic.

“What then? You want me to marry you instead? Because if that’s what it’ll take to get them off your back i’ll-”

That causes a genuine laugh to be pulled from you. What a funny thought, Satoru Gojo marrying you. What would that even look like? Waking up as Mrs Gojo.

“What’ll you do if Waka Inoue finally notices you? She might not be into married guys.” You bit your lip and looked away nervously. 

“Waka-who-cares. I’d be a super committed husband, that’s offensive you think I’d cheat on you.” You skim his biceps refusing to meet his eyes. The six eyes which could peel back every layer of poor jokes and yelling until they saw you for what you really were.

Satoru was quick to pull your face back to him, craning your neck upwards so he could get a better look at you. Your eyes start to become bleary and you forcefully wipe at them, probably smearing your makeup, it didn’t matter.

“No, no what’s wrong? Did I say something?” He blurted while catching a stray tear with his thumb. You were ashamed to admit it, but it felt good to be so close again. You’d take him anyway he let you have him.

“No. You didn’t.” Gojo shook your head gently, as if he was trying to shake some sense into you.

“Then why? All of this, why?” He asks and it comes out as more of a plea than anything.

And it all came tumbling out.

“I have nightmares about everything that happened. And then you were gone, and then Haibara, and then Suguru, and then Shoko, and then you again. Even Nanami. I had no one left to turn to instead of this stupid family who cares about nothing other than their stupid lineage and influence. When they asked me to marry Naoya, what else could I have said? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t see the point! You-”

“You thought I left you.”

Your body went slack and the only thing holding you up was Satoru’s steady hand. His words had a note of familiarity, as if he resonated with what you were saying. All of a sudden that chasm you imagined between the two of you began to inch closer together again.

“I think of you all the time. I think I might be obsessed with you, which is not a good thing for your sake. When Shoko called me, the only thing keeping me sane was knowing I had to get here in time.”

Squeezing your shoulder, Satoru takes a step backwards with a painfully concentrated look. You had half the mind to grasp at him and beg him not to move away.

“I caught the first flight back to Tokyo. I paid that cab driver more money than he makes in a month to speed as fast as he could. I teleported the farthest I've ever gone to get here on time. I tracked down your room in this ugly house by the trace of your energy alone. If that doesn’t say I'm here for you…”

Gojo offers a hand to you and the resolution on his face is strikingly clear.

“I don’t think I can let you walk in there… but I'm gonna ask anyway. Do you wanna go in there and get married to some entitled kid, who could never deserve you, or are you coming with me.”

All you could hear was leave me or don’t.

Leaping forward, you had never made a choice faster. Something in you screamed to bridge the final bit of the gap between the two of you, and there was only one thing your mind stubbornly insisted would do the trick.

Taking his hand you pull him closer with your own determined resolve. Yanking him forward, you bring your fingers to the nape of his neck and slam your lips to his.

It took him a moment to respond, but he fell into the messy rhythm after a moment. He clutched onto your waist to keep you close, your bodies pressing together firmly. It wasn’t a rough kiss and though it was messy, it couldn’t have felt more right.

Pulling away, you rested your forehead on his and looked into those piercing eyes.

“Can we… can we go?” You said breathlessly.

Nodding frantically, his big hand grope at your hips and stomach trying to push you two further together. As if you’d think of separating from him now.

“Yeah, yeah I got you. We’re going, nobody’s gettin’ in the way.” He chuckled.

“Let’s not fight again, I really hated that.” You kissed his pouted lips once more before pulling away -albeit slowly because he refused to let go- and smiling.

“…You’re so cute when you get mad though. All, ‘Gojo, don’t you dare’ “ He mocked in a girlish and obnoxiously high pitched voice. He always had to go and ruin the vibe.

“I don’t-”

Before you could give him a piece of you mind, the sound of the door being opened caught your attention and you turned your head back to see who it was.

The face of the scandalized maid from before was comical, bringing a mischievous smile to your mouth as you purposefully wiped at your now smeared lipstick.

She lets out a scream before starting to loudly call out, “Master Naobito! Master Naoya! Help there is-”

Rolling your eyes you look at Satoru expectantly, “Well… I think that’s our cue.”

Picking you up in a bridal style carry, a small giggle escapes you as Gojo grins with relief that you’ve chosen the right option. 

“Jail break time. You owe me some dango from that resturant you like… maybe that can be our first date!”

The feeling of Satoru encircles you as his cursed energy wraps you like a blanket. You press your cheek to his shoulder and shut your eyes tight as you feel yourself being transported from the glib guestroom.

Satoru’s warm breath hits your ear as he leans in close.

“Did I mention you look really hot. Am I allowed to say that now that we’re getting married?”

“Hey I never agreed to that-”

The world went silent as the two of you warped away, your narrowly avoided and life changing mistake becoming a small bump in the very long road ahead.

[stellaspectral]

Now for my second request: I don't know if you're comfortable writing love triangles (the first one was kinda a triangle too but well…) but this time I would like a 2007 Raph x Reader x Leo where they both fall in love with her at the same time and she has to choose who to be with in the end (let's make their relationship in that movie even messier and with another thing to argue about! I love drama!😈). This triangle started before Leo went to South America but back then no one ever knew about anyone's feelings and they were all just acting like normal friends. Then Reader was just as disappointed and angry as Raph when Leo didn't want to come back and stopped sending them letters (the reader received also secret personal letters addressed only to her and Raph realizes from this that Leo might be interested in the Reader romantically just like him), and Raph and her got really close and bonded because of that. Reader was also the first one to find out that Raph is the Nightwatcher and offered her apartment as a second shelter when he wanted a place to sleep, be away from his brothers or just hang out with her. During this time Raph also thought about confessing his feelings to her but here comes Leo back from South America to complicate things again! (I love 2007 Leo just as much as 2007 Raph I promise, that’s why this is a love triangle. I genuinely can’t choose between them). I’ll let you choose how you want the story to end again (who will the Reader choose? Will Raph and Leo kill each other? Find out next episode lmao) and I apologize again if my English is not the best!

A/N: Oh-ho-ho *rubs hands together* I love myself a juicy, tense love triangle 😈 But ya’ll are getting both versions of the ending.

Enjoy! 💖

Collateral Hearts (angst)

💙 2007 Leonardo/Female Reader ★ Raphael/Female Reader ❤️

CWs: Angst, love triangle, themes of abandonment, sibling conflict, jealousy, brief descriptions of fighting and injuries, multiple endings (you choose!). All characters are aged-up.

Before Splinter sends Leo to Central America, back when the four brothers were still a fractured—but whole—unit under the city. You’re there, woven into the fabric of their strange, hidden lives.

You train with them, spar sometimes (mostly with Mikey, who doesn’t mind losing), patch up scrapes after patrols, and share greasy pizza on movie nights in the lair. Even then, there’s an invisible current pulling you towards two specific points in this constellation of brothers.

Leo. His gaze often finds yours across the room—intense, analytical, yet softened with something unreadable when it lands on you. A shared glance during Splinter’s lessons, a quiet question about your day that feels weightier than it should. Looks that linger just a few beats too long. Not that you minded.

Then there’s Raph. A tumultuous, rough sea of energy. But around you, there’s a specific turbulence—a protective warmth that flares unexpectedly when someone gets too close. Even one of his brothers. He’s the one who walks a little closer when you navigate the darker tunnels, the one whose shoulder bumps feel more deliberate than accidental.

But you’re still friends. Allies. Confidantes. That’s the story you all stick to, the safe label taped over a box of much more complicated feelings.

Then Splinter made the call. Leo must go to a foreign country for a year of leadership training. The thought of his steady presence vanishing left an immediate, aching void. You saw the conflict in Leo’s eyes, duty warring with reluctance. He promised to write, his gaze pausing on you for a fraction longer than on his brothers.

He kept his word, at first. Letters arrived addressed to the lair. You gathered with Donnie and Mikey to read them aloud. Leo’s careful script detailed grueling training regimens, encounters with unfamiliar wildlife, and the strange beauty of the jungle. Donnie and Mikey would talk about the letters, but Raph—he only listened. Jaw tight.

Especially after you started getting letters only for you.

In these, Leo was different. More personal. He shed the leader persona. Asked about your life, your classes, even the most mundane details. Shared doubts, frustration, moments of quiet contemplation he’d never voice to his brothers. He recalled a joke you made months ago, mentioned dreaming of sparring with you, specific conversations you had late at night.

It all sent a confusing jolt through you, making your heart beat faster, chased by a prickle of guilt. You still keep the letters hidden, tucked away in a shoebox under your bed. But you had a feeling Raph already knew about them, even without him having to resort to snooping around.

Then the letters stopped. All of them. Silence stretched from weeks into months. Worry festered, then soured into a shared bitterness, particularly between you and Raph. He often paces, slams his fists into the punching bag harder than necessary, his already short fuse burning down to nothing.

“Guess Fearless Leader’s too good for us now,” he snarled one evening, smacking the bag hard enough to break it. “Suppose he found better things to do than write to his family.”

You nodded, the shared sense of abandonment a bitter taste in your mouth. “He could at least tell us he’s alive,” you murmured, picking at a loose thread on your shirt. “Or that he’s okay, or … something.”

The disappointment became a strange, potent glue. You and Raph gravitated towards each other. You trained together more often, pushing each other, the physical exertion a release for the pent-up anger. For hours, you would talk. Sometimes in the lair, other times huddled on your fire escape, sharing frustrations about Leo, about the team falling apart. Everything.

You see past Raph’s rage, glimpse the aching vulnerability beneath the shell, the deep-seated fear of not being enough. He sees your disappointment, your confusion, your own quiet hurt.

One night, when you were walking home, you heard the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle. Not the usual mugging, but something more brutal. You peeked cautiously around a dumpster—and there he was. A figure clad in armor taking down a group of thugs with terrifying efficiency.

The Nightwatcher.

Your breath caught. But there was something familiar about the way he moved. After he disarmed the last thug, he turned, glimpsing you in the shadows before vaulting onto a nearby roof. And you knew who it was.

Raph had started sleeping all day, becoming distant—almost as if he was hiding something from everyone. But you didn’t confront him immediately. The next time he appeared near your neighborhood, though, you didn’t hesitate and called out his name. He froze on the fire escape opposite yours, silhouetted against the moon.

Then he pulled off his helmet, his eyes locking onto yours, full of defiance and exhaustion.

You simply gestured towards your open window. “Come in. Before someone sees you.”

Your apartment became his haven, his second shelter. A place disconnected from the lair. He crashes on your couch sometimes after rough evenings of vigilantism and you tend to his wounds. Other nights, he just shows up, shedding the armor—but not the weight on his shoulders, needing a place to just be, away from his family’s expectations.

You listen. You don’t judge.

Over time, your bond deepened. You see the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not watching, a mixture of longing and frustration. A comfortable silence often settles between you now, charged with unspoken desires that flicker in the periphery of your awareness. Becoming stronger by the day.

By the time Leo’s been gone a year, you and Raph are practically inseparable, a constant presence in each other’s lives that has evolved beyond mere companionship.

Tonight, Raph sits on your closed toilet, his armor piled haphazardly in the tub. He still breathes raggedly, the adrenaline from his patrol slowly leaving him. You sit on the edge of the tub, dabbing carefully at a gash above his brow ridge with a cotton pad.

“Hold still,” you murmur as he flinches from the sting of the antiseptic.

A low grunt escapes him, but he obeys, his gaze fixed somewhere on the linoleum floor. You’re used to caring for his wounds, but something feels different this evening. There are more cuts, deeper bruises blooming on his knuckles. And he’s quieter than usual, the typical simmering anger replaced by a raw exhaustion that seems to seep into the very air around him.

You reach for a butterfly bandage, peeling off the backing. Your fingers brush against his rough, green skin as you position it over the cut on his forehead. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his head tilts slightly, his gaze lifting from the floor to meet yours.

The proximity is suddenly overwhelming. You can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight tremor in his hands resting on his knees, the way his throat works as he swallows. That look is there again. Your breath hitches.

The silence stretches, filled only by the distant hum of city traffic and the frantic thumping of your own heart. It feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground shifting beneath your feet. Years of friendship, shared grief over Leo’s silence—it all swirls between you, threatening to tip you over the cliffside.

He leans forward almost imperceptibly, his rough knuckles brushing against your knee. The contact sends a jolt, sharp and warm, straight through you. His eyes search yours, questioning, demanding something you aren’t sure you can give. Images flash through your mind: Leo’s steady gaze, the careful script on his hidden letters, the confusing warmth they’d sparked. Guilt pricks at you, sharp and unwelcome.

Raph must see the flicker of conflict in your eyes. The intensity in his gaze wavers, replaced by a familiar frustration, which is quickly masked. He pulls back slightly, breaking the spell. The air rushes back into your lungs, leaving you feeling shaky.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, finally breaking the silence. His voice is rougher than usual.

“Anytime, Raph,” you reply, your voice steadier than you feel. You stand up, gathering the used cotton pads and wrappers. The moment has passed, the fragile connection severed. But the echo of it remains, hanging heavy in the air.

He finishes wiping the lingering grime from his face and arms, avoiding your eyes now. “Donnie’s been askin’ questions,” he says abruptly. “Where I go. Why I’m so beat up all the time.”

You nod, busying yourself with tidying the small bathroom counter. “What have you been telling him?”

“Same old crap. Extra training. Fell down some stairs.” He snorts, a humorless sound. “Mikey just thinks I’m sleepin’ all day ‘cause I’m lazy.” He pauses, then adds, quieter, “Easier that way.”

He stands up, stretching gingerly. The movement pulls the muscles taut across his shoulders and back. He’s still Raph—volatile, protective, a storm contained within a powerful frame. But here, in the relative safety of your apartment, the cracks in his armor show. You see the vulnerability he fights so hard to conceal, the fear of abandonment that fuels his anger.

He goes to collect his stuff. As he passes, his hand brushes yours again, lingering for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Then he gathers the rest of his gear, gives you a nod, and slips back out the window, melting into the pre-dawn gloom.

You stand there for a long moment, listening to the fading sounds of his departure, the silence of your apartment feeling both emptier and more complicated than ever before. You go over to the couch, sinking into the cushions. Exhaustion finally begins to claim you. The emotional whiplash of the evening, coupled with the late hour, makes your eyelids feel like lead weights.

You don’t bother changing; you curl up, pulling a throw blanket over yourself. Your thoughts drift, a jumbled mess of green skin and intense eyes—

—then the sudden, shrill ring of your phone jolts you awake. You blink, disoriented; you must have dozed off. Who would be calling at this hour, anyway? You fumble for the phone on the coffee table, checking the caller ID: Donnie. Anxiety spikes. He rarely calls, unless it was urgent.

Had something happened to Raph on his way back?

“Donnie?” you answer, your voice thick with sleep and apprehension. “Is everything okay? Is Raph—”

“He’s back,” Donnie’s voice comes through the line, cutting you off. He sounds breathless, wired, a mixture of disbelief and frantic energy buzzing through his words. “He’s back. Leo’s back!”

The world tilts. You bolt upright, the blanket pooling around your waist. “What? He is?” The words are barely a whisper. Leo. Here? Now?!

“Yeah,” Donnie confirms. “Splinter’s with him now. It’s really him!”

You feel as if someone punched the air out of your lungs. The nearly year of silence, worry, frustration, anger. And the comfort you’d found in his absence with Raph—all of it crashes down at once.

Leo was back.

You grip the phone tighter. “I … okay,” you manage, the words feeling inadequate, hollow. “Okay, Donnie. Thanks for … telling me.”

You hang up, the phone slipping from your suddenly nerveless fingers and falling to the floor. The silence in the apartment roars back, louder than before, saturated with the impossible news.

Leo. Back.

The two words echo in your skull, bouncing off the walls of your mind. Back from the jungle, back from the silence. Back from the place he’d occupied in your memory, like a photograph tinged with resentment and a persistent ache. He was supposed to be a ghost, a problem deferred, a complication locked away with those hidden letters.

Not anymore.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, a frantic rhythm completely at odds with the numbness spreading through your limbs. You stare at the opposite wall, unseeing, the pattern swimming before your eyes. Just minutes ago, the world had felt compressed, focused down to the charged space between you and Raph in your bathroom.

That moment now feels like a scene from someone else’s life, blurred and distant.

Raph.

A wave of something akin to panic washes over you. Raph, who had just slipped out your window. Raph, who had listened to you rail against Leo’s abandonment. Who had shared his vulnerability with you. Whose frustration and longing had been so palpable. How would he react?

Donnie’s call meant the news was already spreading through the lair. Would Raph feel blindsided? Betrayed, even, by the universe suddenly dropping his long-lost brother back into the mix just as something fragile and tentative was solidifying between you?

Guilt twists in your gut. Not just for the hidden letters anymore, but for the intimacy you’d shared with Raph, forged in the crucible of Leo’s absence. Did you build it all on a foundation of shared resentment? Was the comfort you found in his presence just a reaction, a way to fill the void Leo left? Or was it something real, something separate, something that now felt impossibly complicated?

You push yourself off the couch, pacing the confines of your living room. Your thoughts race, colliding like billiard balls. Leo’s return changes everything.

You wonder what Leo is like now; a year is a long time. Would he still be the same thoughtful leader? Or would the jungle have changed him, hardened him? Why come back now, without a word? So many questions, and the thought of facing him, of navigating the tangled web of unspoken feelings, makes your head spin.

Two brothers. Two intense, complicated connections.

Before, the choice felt hypothetical, distant. Leo was gone, a memory wrapped in unanswered questions. Raph was here, solid, intense, a growing certainty in the chaos. But now, Leo is back—and the choice is suddenly very real. You close your eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. You have to choose your next move.

And you have no idea which way to turn.

Just like that, the fragile bubble bursts.

The reunion in the lair is strained, fraught with tension. The arguments start almost immediately, old wounds ripped open, new ones inflicted. Leo tries to step back into his role as leader. But Raph bristles under his command, the resentment now fueled by more than just brotherly rivalry.

Those old wounds aren’t just reopened; they’re ripped wider, doused in the salt of the past year’s bitterness. And you? You’re caught squarely in the middle.

Leo seeks you out, his gaze earnest, apologetic. He tries to explain the silence, the overwhelming nature of his training, the isolation. “I messed up,” he admits, “not writing. And not writing to you, especially, is unforgivable. Being away, being alone … it made me realize things. What I’d left behind. Who I’d left behind.”

His eyes plead for understanding, for a return to the tentative connection forged through those hidden letters. He’s the prodigal son, the steady leader trying to find his footing, reminding you of the intellectual spark, the shared ideals you once admired.

Simultaneously, Raph’s presence becomes fiercely territorial. His jealousy is no longer a subtle undercurrent; it’s a tangible force field. A possessive hand landing on the small of your back when Leo approaches. Standing deliberately between you and his brother. His voice drops to a low growl when Leo addresses you directly. His glares are daggers.

He reminds you, wordlessly and sometimes explicitly, that he stayed. He endured the silence with you. And more than ever, he seeks refuge in your apartment; being in the lair is physically unbearable for him now. “Can’t breathe down there with him acting like nothing happened,” he mutters, collapsing onto your couch.

The arguments between the brothers escalate, and you know, with a sickening certainty, that you are part of the fuel for their fire.

You hear snippets: “Stay away from her, Leo!” “You think I didn’t notice how close you two got while I was gone?” It tears you apart, watching them fight, knowing your feelings are a wedge driving them further apart. The pressure builds, an unbearable weight on your chest.

They both corner you at different times, the words tumbling out.

Leo finds you on the rooftop, the city spread out below. “I know this is complicated. But what I felt then, what I tried to tell you in those letters—it wasn’t just about missing a friend. It was more. It is more. Coming back, seeing you … it confirmed everything the jungle taught me about what truly matters. I want a chance to prove I can be the man you deserve, the partner I should have been all along. I messed up big time, and I’m so, so sorry.” His eyes search yours, full of hope and regret.

Raph confronts you in your apartment after another explosive fight with Leo. He paces your small living room like a caged tiger before stopping right in front of you, his eyes blazing.

“I can’t do this anymore. Watching him look at you, talk to you and pretend like he didn’t just abandon everyone, abandon you. You know me. All of me.” He takes a ragged breath, the vulnerability stark on his face. “Is this real? What’s been growing between us? Tell me. I need to know if I have a shot, or if I’ve just been fooling myself.”

Your heart feels like it’s being ripped in two different directions. But you must choose. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath …

Do you invite Leo over?

Or Raph?

💙 LEO ENDING 💙

The faces of both brothers flash behind your eyelids.

Raph—the raw, protective energy, the shared struggle through the lonely year, the fierce vulnerability he showed only you. The palpable connection forged in late-night talks and frustrations, the almost-kiss in the bathroom. Choosing him felt like picking the present, the tangible, the fire that burned bright and hot right beside you.

But then there is Leo. The quiet intensity, the exchanged glances that spoke volumes before he ever left. The thoughtful leader who, even in his absence, reached out through letters, revealing a depth of feeling that had resonated long before Raph became a constant presence. His apology felt genuine, steeped in the weight of his realization.

Choosing Leo feels like picking a path started long ago, interrupted but not erased. Like choosing the steady mountain, the man who saw you clearly even from afar. The guilt over the shared intimacy with Raph while Leo was gone gnaws at you. But the foundation with Leo felt older, deeper, somehow more right for you, despite the hurt his silence caused.

Maybe the bond with Raph, as intense as it was, had been born more of circumstance and shared abandonment than a true meeting of souls. It’s a painful thought, disloyal even, but it felt true. Your heart aches for Raph, for the pain this would inevitably cause him. You know his reaction wouldn’t be quiet or easily managed.

But you couldn’t base your future on preventing his anger, nor could you deny the pull towards Leo that had existed long before the complications arose.

With trembling fingers, you retrieve your phone.

It rings twice before he picks up, his voice cautious. “Hello?”

“Leo,” you begin, your own voice barely a whisper. You clear your throat, trying to sound stronger. “Can … can you come over? To my place. Now.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Then, quietly, “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

Hanging up feels like sealing a door shut.

You stand in the middle of your living room, wrapping your arms around yourself, bracing for the conversation to come, and the inevitable fallout that would follow. The weight of the decision settles heavily in your gut, a mix of terrifying clarity and profound sadness for the friend you were about to wound deeply.

Later, a soft knock echoes through the apartment. Not the impatient rapping Raph sometimes used, but a hesitant, measured sound. You slide open the window, seeing Leo looking uncertain, his wary but hopeful eyes searching yours.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside when you gesture him in.

The air crackles with the history between you, the year of silence. You lead him to the couch, but neither of you sits immediately.

You turn to face him, needing to get this out. “Leo, I …”

He holds up a hand gently. “Let me,” he says, his voice earnest. “Before you say anything. I need you to understand. Going away—it wasn’t just training. It was … breaking myself down. Splinter knew I needed it. I was becoming rigid, losing sight of what mattered. The isolation was brutal. At first, writing helped. Writing to you especially helped. It was the only time I felt … normal. Connected.”

He takes a breath, his gaze unwavering. “Then it got harder. The training intensified, the self-doubt … it became overwhelming. I convinced myself I wasn’t worthy of leading. That silence was easier than admitting failure, even in a letter. Especially to you. I thought I needed to come back whole, fixed. So I shut you out. It was cowardly and selfish, and I regret it more than anything.”

He looks around the small apartment, his eyes lingering on the couch. “I know things changed while I was gone. I see how close you and Raph got. And I don’t blame either of you.”

Tears prick at your eyes, a mixture of relief at his honesty and residual pain. “It hurt, Leo. The silence. We thought … everyone thought something had happened. Or that you just didn’t care anymore.”

“I always cared,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Being away, especially being silent, only made me realize how much I cared. About my family. About …” He pauses, his gaze locking with yours. “About you. Those letters—they weren’t just letters, not for me. They were me trying to hold on to the most important thing I’d left behind.”

You finally meet his gaze fully, seeing the sincerity, the regret, but also the steady conviction that had always drawn you to him. “Raph …” you start, the name tasting like guilt on your tongue.

“I know,” Leo nods, his expression pained but resolute. “This is going to be hard. For all of us. Especially for him. But I needed to tell you how I feel. And I needed to know …” He trails off, waiting.

Taking another deep breath, you finally make the choice concrete, speaking the words aloud. “I needed you to come back, Leo.” It’s not a perfect declaration, but it’s the truth. “What I felt before you left, and when I read your letters … it’s still here. Underneath everything else that happened this year.” You step closer, the space between you shrinking. “It’s complicated. And I’m scared. But … it’s you. Always has been.”

A wave of relief washes over Leo’s face, so profound it seems to physically lighten him. He reaches out, his hand hovering for a moment before gently taking yours. His touch is warm, steady. It feels different from Raph’s rougher, more demanding touch. It feels like coming home, albeit to a home that needs serious rebuilding.

“Okay,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand gently. “We can figure out complicated. Together.”

Understanding passes between you. This is not the end of the struggle, but the beginning of a different one. There will be shouting matches in the lair, hurt feelings, tough conversations. Raph’s reaction looms large and ominous. But in this moment, standing in your apartment, hand-in-hand with the brother you chose, there’s a fragile sense of hope, a quiet determination to face whatever comes next, side-by-side.

The path ahead is uncertain, likely painful, but for the first time since Leo’s return, you feel like you’re finally facing the right direction.

You stand there for a long moment. His thumb brushes gently over your knuckles, a small, grounding gesture. You watch the movement, then lift your gaze back to his eyes, which are filled with the look of someone who had almost lost something precious and was only now allowing himself to truly believe it might still be within reach.

He hasn’t let go of your hand, and you find you don’t want him to. He takes a step closer, the space between you shrinking until you can feel the subtle warmth radiating from him. The air feels electric, just like it had in those stolen glances years ago. But amplified now by everything that has happened since. His gaze drops briefly to your lips, then flickers back up to meet your eyes, a silent question asked.

Your breath hitches. This is it—the culmination of those letters, the late-night thoughts, the ache of his absence, the confusing swirl of emotions upon his return. The guilt over Raph still lingers, a dull ache in the background, but it’s overshadowed now by the undeniable pull towards the man standing before you. This feels … inevitable. Right.

He lifts his free hand, slowly, and cups your cheek. His touch is comforting, though slightly calloused from his training, but infinitely tender. You lean into the contact, your eyes fluttering closed for just a second. And when you open them again, his face is closer, his expression soft.

He doesn’t rush. He simply tilts his head, his gaze holding yours until the last possible moment, before closing the remaining distance. The first touch of his lips is soft, hesitant almost. Tentative as if testing a fragile ground after an earthquake. But then, as you respond, pressing back gently, the kiss deepens.

It isn’t explosive; it’s a slow burn, infused with a year’s worth of longing and regret. Tasting of relief, of apologies accepted. There’s a quiet strength in it, a steadiness that mirrors Leo’s very core. It’s like finding shelter after being lost in a storm, a sense of clicking back into place. Months of worried silence melt away, leaving only this.

Him.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only slightly, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes remain closed for a beat, his breathing a little unsteady now. You keep your eyes closed now too, savoring the closeness.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion, “how long I’ve thought about …” He doesn’t finish the sentence, didn’t need to.

You open your eyes to find him watching you. You reach up, tracing the line of his jaw. “Me too, Leo,” you whisper, the admission feeling momentous.

He smiles then—a genuine one that reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners. It holds the weight of your past.

And the hope for the future.

❤️ RAPH ENDING ❤️

The faces of both brothers flash behind your eyelids.

Leo—the steady gaze, the potential promised in those hidden letters, the man you thought you were waiting for. His apology felt sincere, his explanation plausible. Choosing Leo feels like picking up a thread from the past, acknowledging a connection that had deep roots. Like choosing the calm harbor, the thoughtful partner.

But then there is Raph, who stayed. Weathered the storm of Leo’s absence with you. The one whose rough edges soften only for you, revealing a fierce loyalty and a depth of feeling that resonates in the here and now. The almost-kiss in the bathroom wasn’t just a fleeting moment; it felt like the culmination of a year spent leaning on each other, seeing each other’s true selves laid bare by frustration and vulnerability.

Choosing Raph feels like picking the present. Leo’s return feels like an echo from another time, while Raph is the solid, breathing reality right beside you. The bond with him isn’t just a placeholder; it has grown into something strong and vital on its own merit. Choosing Leo now would be betraying not just Raph, but the truth of the past year.

Your heart aches with a different pain—the sadness of letting go of the ‘what if’ with Leo. The knowledge that you are choosing a path potentially filled with more immediate conflict, given Raph’s nature and existing tensions. But the thought of turning him away after everything feels wrong, a denial of the connection that has become your anchor.

With trembling fingers, you retrieve your phone.

He answers on the first ring, his voice tight, guarded. “Yeah?” Like he was expecting bad news.

“Raph,” you begin, your voice steadier than you expected, fueled by a sudden certainty. “Can … can you come over? To my place. Now.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, followed by a loaded silence. Then, rougher than usual, “You sure?”

“Yeah, Raph,” you say, the conviction solidifying in your chest. “I’m sure.”

“On my way,” he grunts, and the line clicks dead.

Hanging up feels like sealing a door shut.

You stand in the middle of your living room, wrapping your arms around yourself, bracing not just for the conversation. But for the intensity Raph would bring back with him. The weight of the decision settles, heavy but clear, a choice made for the present. For the man who had stood by you, fire and all.

Later, there’s a familiar, slightly impatient thudding sound at your window—his usual way of announcing himself. You slide it open, and Raph vaults inside. He stands there, filling the space, his eyes narrowed, searching yours, braced for impact.

“So?” he asks, his voice low, challenging. Ready for a fight, or maybe just protection against getting hurt again.

You don’t hesitate. You walk right up to him, stopping just inches away. “So,” you echo softly, meeting his intense gaze. “Leo came looking for me. He apologized. Explained things.”

Raph’s jaw tightens, a muscle flexing. He doesn’t look surprised, more resigned. “Figured.” He looks away, before muttering, “Good for him.”

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. He flinches slightly but doesn’t pull away. “Raph, look at me.” He drags his gaze back to yours, his eyes guarded but showing a flicker of the vulnerability you know so well. “What happened this past year. Between us. It wasn’t just because Leo was gone. And it wasn’t just filling a space. It was real. Is real.”

His breath hitches. The guarded look cracks, showing the desperate hope beneath. “Don’t mess with me,” he growls, but there’s no heat in it, only a raw plea.

“I’m not,” you insist. “Yes, Leo’s back, and it’s … complicated. I won’t lie. I had feelings for him before he left. Those letters—they confused things. But you were here. You saw me through it. We saw each other. What grew between us …” You inhale a shaky breath. “It’s you, Raph. You’re who I want.”

For a moment, he just stares, processing. Before he lets out a ragged breath, a sound heavy with a year’s worth of tension, frustration, and longing finally being released. He closes the small distance between you, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek. “You mean it?” he whispers, his voice thick, searching your eyes for any hint of doubt.

“I mean it,” you whisper back, leaning into his touch.

He exhales. “Thought I lost you…” he murmurs. Relief washes off him in palpable waves as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he buries his face in your hair. It’s a desperate hold, almost as if he needs to physically feel the reality of your choice.

You hold him back just as tightly, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. This is it. The choice made. The path chosen.

And it won’t be easy. Leo’s return has already guaranteed conflict. The brothers are fractured, and this may deepen the cracks before any healing can begin. Raph’s possessiveness and temper will be tested, as will your patience. But here, wrapped in his arms, feeling the undeniable strength of the bond you forged in the loneliness, it feels right. It feels real. You chose the fire, the storm, the beating heart that stayed.

And together, you’ll face the fallout.

The two of you remain in an embrace. You can feel the tension slowly ebbing out of his shoulders, replaced by the sheer force of his relief. He holds you like a lifejacket, like you’re the only solid thing in a world that has just tilted violently off its axis and is only now beginning to settle.

Finally, he loosens his hold just enough to pull back slightly. His hands move from your back to frame your face, his thumbs brushing rough calluses against your cheekbones. A touch that is both possessive and tender. His eyes search yours with an intensity that robs your breath.

“You sure?” he asks again, his voice low and gravelly, needing the reassurance one last time. Because it isn’t a question of your feelings anymore, but of your understanding of what this meant—what choosing him entailed.

“I’m sure, Raph,” you breathe, meeting his gaze without flinching. You raise a hand, covering one of his, pressing his palm more firmly against your skin. “This. Us. It’s real.”

That’s all it takes, the last shred of restraint in him snapping. With a low growl deep in his chest, he claims your mouth. The kiss isn’t gentle or hesitant. It’s demanding, a raw outpouring of a year’s worth of pent-up longing and frustration. It’s the heat of the forge, the pressure of the dam finally breaking.

His lips are firm, insistent against yours, moving with an urgency that borders on overwhelming. But it feels undeniably right.

You kiss him back with equal fervor, winding your arms around his neck, pulling him closer still. This isn’t about forgetting about Leo or erasing the past; it’s about embracing the present. The tangible, fiery reality of Raphael. The kiss deepens, tasting of relief. And beneath it all, the undeniable taste of him. It’s grounding and exhilarating all at once, a confirmation that the intense bond you’ve built is exactly where you belong.

When he finally breaks away, you are both breathless, foreheads pressed together. The air is thick and charged between you. His breaths come ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He doesn’t pull away completely, instead keeping you caged gently in his arms.

“Mine,” he rasps, the words possessive but stripped of its usual anger, spoken like a statement of fact. A prayer answered.

You don’t argue, don’t make a move to escape. You just nod, a smile touching your lips. “Yours,” you agree, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek.

A rough chuckle escapes him. “Good,” he grunts, pulling you back into a secure hug, burying his face in the curve of your neck.

The storm isn’t over. Leo is back, and the fights are inevitable. But here, secure in Raph’s arms, feeling the unwavering beat of his heart—you know you’ve chosen the eye of your storm.

And you wouldn’t be facing it all alone.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Stray Kids with an S/O who is a huge horror movie fan

pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

genre: fluff

disclaimer: this is as always just my opinion :)

a/n: as a huge horror movie fan myself, I had to write this! enjoy!🩷

Chan:

As he said before, it's not like he's scared of horror movies, he just doesn't think they're interesting to watch. But, you're interesting to him and he loves you so he will definitely try for you. He also thinks he won't get scared cause 'nothing scares him' but oh boy was he wrong. You have to promise him extra cuddles because he's not gonna be able to fall asleep that night. Will also try to dissect the plot with you after the movie, and try to find meaning in the story just so it's less scary to him.

If he was never really invested into the horror genre, you could show him the classics like The Shining(1980), The Omen(1976), The Amityville Horror (1979), Psycho(1960) and then also some newer iconic movies like Get Out(2017), The Ring(2002), Sinister(2012), Hereditary(2018) and The Conjuring(2013).

Minho:

Loves it. Loves to try and scare you while you're watching a movie together. At first, you're so happy that you can share your love for horror with your significant other. And you know he really doesn't like jumpscares, so you try to find movies that don't have many of those. But if they do and Minho predicts a jumpscare, he'll grab you at the same time it's happening, making you jump out of your skin even though you saw the movie already. You kinda start regretting watching horror movies with him because he annoys you on purpose. He thinks you're so adorable when you're mad at him, but he wont push too far and he'll always make it up with cuddles and kisses later. Overall, 10/10 experience.

I feel like he'd watch almost any horror movie cause he's a curious cat (hehe) and you'd both share your favorites.

I don't know why, but I also feel like Minho would appreciate good old silent horror movies. I just think if he's a horror fan he may enjoy seeing the roots of horror. Like The Cabinet Of Dr. Caligari(1920), Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde(1920), The Phantom Carriage(1921), Nosferatu(1922) and Häxan(1922).

Changbin:

I don't think he's too scared of them but I think he doesn't really care for them too much? Though, if you have some interesting thriller or detective movies to recommend he will definitely wanna watch them with you. I think Changbin likes a movie that has an intelligent story with a plot twist. He likes to guess what's gonna happen next and when he's actually right he'll be so happy and proud. He'll keep talking about how he guessed the plot and how smart he is and how you have to give him extra cuddles now. Either way, you're cuddling and snacking the whole time while watching and it's just nice and cozy.

I think he'd enjoy thrillers like The Game(1997), Fracture(2007), The Machinist(2004), The Double(2013), Shutter Island(2010), Zodiac(2007) and 1408(2007).

Hyunjin:

Miss him with that shit cause he ain't watching it unless you manage to coax him into it. It's gonna take a lot of persuading until he finally gives in but you have to be careful in choosing the right movie for Hyunjin. He doesn't like loud noises and he doesn't really like to feel scared. He'd rather watch something for the story, especially if it's an emotional one, and he also likes character driven stories.

I think he could watch artsy or slow creepy movies that are more drama-like but have elements of horror like Pan's Labyrinth(2006), Dark Water(2005), Windchill(2007), It Follows(2014), The Eyes Of My Mother(2016), I'm Thinking Of Ending Things(2020) and Case 39(2009).

Jisung:

Okay, with this one you can go crazy. Any weird horror movie, anything kinda disturbing, deranged or unhinged will be right up his ally. As a horror and anime fan himself, he's seen some pretty weird stuff so experiment, I guess. I also feel like he'd like fun horror movies, idk how to explain but ones that are disturbing but fun at the same time, like you can't look away even though you're looking at a train wreck.

Movies like Funny Games(2007), The Ruins(2008), Suspiria(1977), The Perfection(2018), Perfect Blue(1997), May(2002), Audition(2000), Saw franchise and Terrifier series would be fun for him. Also, since he mentioned Paranormal Activity, found footage horror movies would be fun to watch with Jisung too like Creep(2014), REC(2007), Unfriended(2015) and Cloverfield(2008).

Felix:

This is just not happening unless you can bribe him with cookies, gummies or any other sweets and ofcourse many cuddles and kisses, even more than you share usually. You'll have to practically beg him to watch a horror movie with you or make some kind of compromise that you'll participate in some activity he likes more than you later. He's not gonna sleep all night if you make him watch anything too scary, actually he wouldn't even be watching that. He'd probably be hidden in your neck the whole time and even the creepy sounds coming from the tv will give him nightmares.

The only way to make him watch horror movies is if they're mixed with comedy or they're so bad that they're funny. Like the Scream franchise, The Cabin In The Woods(2011), What We Do In The Shadows(2014), The Happening(2008), Tucker & Dale vs. Evil(2010), Housebound(2014) and ofcourse zombie comedies like One Cut Of The Dead(2017) and Shaun Of The Dead(2004).

Seungmin:

Kind of indifferent towards the scares but I think he gets annoyed with plot holes and characters acting stupid. Rolls his eyes at every over used trope or cliche sentence. You actually end up laughing while watching horror movies with him because he's too cute when he's annoyed.

"How is this killer still alive? He's been run over by a truck ten times, this is stupid!" or "Okay but why is he going towards the sound? Is he that dumb, he's gonna die!"

He does like dry humor though so he'd like some black comedy movies with horror elements like American Psycho(2000), Parasite(2019), The Lobster(2015), The Menu(2022) but also if you want to annoy him on purpose (because he's cute when he gets worked up) show him slashers like the Halloween franchise, Friday the 13th franchise and Black Christmas(2019).

Jeongin:

With Jeongin, I feel like it can go either way and it definitely depends on the theme of the movie. Also, he will probably try to act brave in front of you (until he jumps at a loud sound and then gets embarassed). For some reason I don't have an exact subgenre of horror for him but for some reason I feel like he'd like newer horror movies like Us(2019), Nope(2022), Last Night In Soho(2021), His House(2020), Host(2020), The Invisible Man(2020) and Fear Street film series.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Life Domains

There are a great number of divisions and domains in life (Rojas, 2006; Cummins, 2003; Headey & Wearing, 1992; Veenhoven, 1996), encompassing anywhere from a small range to the infinite possibilities of human activities and areas of being (Rojas, 2006).

Vanderweele (2017) generally suggests that there are 5 domains of human life that should be focused on to promote human flourishing:

Spirituality. This area of life should be prioritized but is often neglected (Moberg & Brusek, 1978). Although the words religion and spirituality are often used interchangeably, a person does not have to practice a faith to be spiritual (Mercadante, 2014). Spirituality enables a purpose in life and dictates how someone may think, feel, and behave to allow them to gain fulfillment (Mercadante, 2014). Spirituality is based on an individual’s principles and focuses on creating a good life for themselves (Dierendonck, 2011). When a person’s actions are not in line with their spiritual beliefs, this can cause an imbalance within this life domain.

Family. An essential but influential domain. Family does not have to be biological. More importantly, it relates to people with whom you have a meaningful relationship (Robins & Tomanec, 1962). The family domain is an area of life that can become imbalanced when a person’s roles and responsibilities are not being fulfilled. This may be because another domain is receiving more attention, such as work (Rao & Indla, 2010). It may be that the beliefs, values, and behaviors of the person are not in line with other family members. When this domain is imbalanced, it results in fractured relationships, estrangement, and separations (Olah, Kotowska, & Richter, 2018).

Work. Plays a fundamental part in the life of most adults throughout all societies. It has an economic and instrumental role because it provides a livelihood (Scoones, 2009). Work provides a will to learn, develop, and accomplish goals. Work also has a psychosocial aspect. It gives meaning to an individual’s life and satisfies their need to be part of society (Sharabi & Harpaz, 2007). It is important that people enjoy what they are doing, where they are working, and who they are working with. If an individual is investing too much time in this domain to the detriment of other domains, it may cause an imbalance.

Health. This domain concerns physical, emotional, and mental health and wellbeing. Individuals can learn how to develop a healthy lifestyle from an early age through education (Cutler & Lleras-Muney, 2014). Physical health can deteriorate from work stress and financial demands. Poor health can affect independent living and the ability to work and engage with family members and the community. This can be detrimental to positive emotional and mental health and wellbeing (Wong, Chan, & Ngan, 2019). It is essential to adopt a healthy lifestyle and promote healthy living. Understanding how to exercise, eat healthily, relax, and connect spiritually helps to promote overall health.

Community. Relationships outside the family are essential (Darling, Hamilton, & Shaver, 2003). These can be with friends or specific communities, such as the neighborhood community, faith or sports-based interests, or hobbies that allow a person to develop a sense of belonging with others (Darling et al., 2003). Community allows people to be united and, like family, allows a sense of safety and security (Bowe et al., 2020). It provides a sense of achievement and fulfillment, especially when an individual is working toward a shared community goal, such as raising money for a good cause or helping others within the community (Bowe et al., 2020). Nevertheless, spending too much time with the community and neglecting other domains, such as family, can cause an imbalance.

This is a simple and easy-to-understand model that illustrates the main life domains recognized by most people. Vanderweele's interpretation is widely recognized and will help you understand how life domains interact with each other and how you can find balance between them.

The following are strategies or techniques that can be used to balance life domains.

Compensation is a technique that increases positive life domains to counteract negative life domains. Decreasing the not-so-good parts of negative life domains reduces the unhappy influence from these domains on overall life satisfaction (Lee & Sirgy, 2018).

Accept and acknowledge that not everything can be done in every domain all the time. There will always be limitations to getting everything done due to constraints on time, energy, and money. The ability to accept ourselves is a crucial factor in improving our overall feelings of emotional wellbeing (MacInnes, 2006).

Breitman and Hatch (2000) wrote a book on a straightforward idea to balance life domains. Their book concerns the art of saying ‘no’ without feeling guilty. The use of this two-letter word can help us rid ourselves of all the things that are preventing us from living positively in all domains.

Planning time and organizing activities that are the main priority can help to minimize stress. Poor organization and time management may cause life domains to feel stretched and overloaded. 

Ensure time is scheduled for relaxation. Many studies have found this is important in reducing stress, anxiety, and low mood (Manzoni, Pagnini, Castelnuovo, & Molinari, 2008).

Flourishing - a condition denoting good mental and physical health: the state of being free from illness and distress but, more important, of being filled with vitality and functioning well in one’s personal and social life.

Languishing - the condition of absence of mental health, characterized by ennui, apathy, listlessness, and loss of interest in life.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[j-psilas]

Each row is curated around a theme or idea, designed to give you An Experience™ when you read/watch/play all five from left to right.

Places That Awaken Us: Halloween (1978), Little Nightmares (2017), The Lighthouse (2019), The Shining (1980), Silent Hill 2 (2001)

Trials of Possession: The Exorcist (1971) and Legion (1983), The Exorcist III (1990), Faith: The Unholy Trinity (2022), The Babadook (2014), When Evil Lurks (2023)

Fractured Self, Tortured Self: The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner (1824), Perfect Blue (1997), Father of Lies (1998), Inside Mari (2012-2016), Slay the Princess (2023-2024)

The Dark Feminine: Carmilla (1872), The Witch (2015), The Bloody Chamber (1979), Ringu (1998), Rule of Rose (2006)

Now is the Time of Monsters: De Bello Civili, or Pharsalia (61-65 AD), Dracula (1897), Between Two Fires (2012), Fear & Hunger (2018), Fear & Hunger 2: Termina (2022)

Witness the Unspeakable: The Three Impostors (1895), The Great God Pan (1894) and The Hill of Dreams (1907), The King in Yellow (1895), "The Color Out of Space" (1927), Bloodborne (2015)

Family, Love, Obsession: "The Fall of the House of Usher" (1839), Crimson Peak (2015), Saltburn (2023), The Gift (2015), Creep (2014)

"Have You Read Devilman? Trick Question.": Devilman (1972-1973), Berserk (1989- ), Demon's Souls (2009), Death Note (2006-2007), Chainsaw Man (2018- )

Several of these categories have some crossover. Rule of Rose definitely also belongs in "Places That Awaken Us," and Devilman belongs in "Now is the Time of Monsters," as does Demon's Souls.

I could go on and on, but I won't list them all. Draw your own connections, if you like, and please recommend more texts to go in these categories!

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PLEASE LOOK UP CONTENT WARNINGS FOR EVERY SINGLE ITEM ON THESE LISTS. THERE ARE TOO MANY FOR ME TO LIST INDIVIDUALLY.

[chronicpaintings]

Over the past 17 years, I've had to give up many activities I used to enjoy due to my spinal cord injuries and surgery that is causing increasing pain and finally catching up to me after stemming from a traumatic car accident in 2007. It was the week before freshman year of college. A week filled with anticipation and excitement. But instead, life made me take a complete turn that day when a person committed a hit-and-run. I lost my two best friends who were in the car with me that day, and not a day goes by without me thinking of them.

I live with severe chronic pain and mobility issues every day. I suffered an incomplete L4/L5 spinal injury where I lost all feeling below my waist for a full 2 weeks. I suffered a cervical fracture in my C2, hence the beautiful and ever-so-cute Halo on my head. If you want people to look at you, put four screws in your skull, trust me.

It's a life of constant fear and trial and error—always hoping to wake up in no pain tomorrow, even though I know it's not the case. The chronic denervation of my S1 and L5 are permanent.

I will not let anything stop me in my relentless pursuit of passion despite battling chronic pain daily.

[rosamundpikesource]

Rosamund Pike during the "Fracture" Press Conference on March 30, 2007 at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills, California, United States.

Ph. Vera Anderson

[casscainmainly]

Hi there! I just read battle for the cowl (i hadn't managed to finish it last time because I was so angry but this time i did manage! Yay! Someone save me.) I'm very sorry to bother you, but you are the Cass Cain reference and I find myself in need of your insight if that's alright with you.

Anyway my actual question is, what would be Cass' greatest struggle wrt Bruce's death/taking the cowl after Bruce's death? Like how do you think the grief would manifest, what would be the biggest conflict?

Hi!!! First off congrats for finishing Battle for the Cowl, everyone who gets through it deserves a medal. Secondly it makes me happy to hear I'm your Cass reference because there are so many amazing and knowledgable Cass blogs on here <333.

Anyway your question is SO interesting because. AGH. Cass deserved to be in BftC so bad!!! Okay in a world where Cass became Batman, I'm going to pretend she doesn't set up Batman, Inc. I'm also assuming in this world Steph still takes up Batgirl/Cass still gives it to her.

There are many considerations for how Cass would react, and this is a jumble of thoughts (other Cass fans might have better answers than me tbh). But here are some factors:

Besides her lame non-reaction in Reborn era, we do have some hints on how Cass would react to Bruce's death in Batgirl (2000) #15. When Cass gets hit by a beam that makes the brain come up with a scenario to kill, Cass imagines the Joker killing Bruce and her killing the Joker. This 'killing' reaction is due to the beam, but it's significant that Bruce dying was her justification. Her brain had to come up with a reason to break her most sacred vow, and Bruce's death was what it found. His death broke a fundamental part of her. Ofc this was very early on in their relationship, but I think Bruce's death would take a toll on her sense of internal 'goodness' (which was always shaky to begin with)

Bruce adopts Cass in 2008, basically right before he dies. His adoption words to her: "You'll always have a real family... as long as I'm around". Just. AHHHH. Although Bruce didn't intend this, this is phrased as a conditional: Cass' 'real family' depends on Bruce's presence. For Bruce to die immediately after this would severely impact Cass' sense of belonging to the family.

We know from Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Batgirl that Bruce had ordered Cass to give the Batgirl mantle to Steph (in the case of his disappearance/death). We don't know how he said this - it may have been an order before his death, or a 'last message'-type deal like with Dick/Jason. Regardless, this would impact Cass' belief that she deserves the Bat mantle. We know from what actually happens that Cass gives up the symbol after Bruce's death. In a scenario where she takes the cowl, I think this seed of doubt would wriggle at her. What did Bruce mean when he told her to give up Batgirl? Was it because he wanted her to become Batman, or because he wanted to strip her of the symbol entirely?

If Cass takes up the cowl I'm assuming Dick doesn't? Or he's a simultaneous Batman? Either way, Cass + Dick would be very interesting in this era, not least because they're coming off the backs of their fight in Batgirl (2008) + reconciliation in Batman & The Outsiders (2007). That reconciliation addresses Bruce's absence: Dick says, "I suppose we need to work together to fill the void he left." So Dick-Cass would be this tense and grieving relationship that's filled with a strange solidarity. On the other hand, I think Babs would not want Cass to be the Bat, so this might drive a wedge between them (and I think Cass, in her grieving state, would likely evade or lash out if Babs shows any concern). So Cass' relationships to Dick and Babs would change.

Cass' relationship to Tim would also be changed by Tim's Brucequest, and honestly it would probably fracture because both of them are not in the best state of mind. Cass' relationship to Steph would also be tense, in my opinion Cass would shut her out for a variety of reasons (not least because of the aforementioned 'give Batgirl to Steph' order). So Cass' relationship to Steph and Tim would most likely worsen.

A final consideration is that, when Stephanie died, Cass left Gotham for Bludhaven. Steph's death changed her entire relationship to Gotham, leading her to say (in her internal monologue) that Blud was the first place to ever be hers. Both Steph and Bruce are Gothamites through and through, so I think Bruce's death would also change Cass' relationship to Gotham City.

Okay I am so sorry for that essay because you were only asking for the biggest conflict 😭. I think all of the above build up into her biggest conflict being whether or not she belongs here/whether or not she's doing the right thing. Don't get me wrong, she knows she can make a great Bat and she knows Gotham needs a Batman. But with Bruce dead, with her grounding relationships to Steph and Babs under heavy strain, with Tim steadfastly believing Bruce is not dead, with her relationship to Gotham in shambles, with the adoption in the air, and with Dick (who's been Batman before) hanging around and probably clashing with her sometimes, her self-belief would probably be more fragile than it's ever been. I'm thinking end of BG 2000 levels of 'do I even deserve to the Bat symbol'.

I'm also thinking of Gates of Gotham, where Cass and Dick talk in the car and Cass says it's a choice to stay in Gotham, whether or not the city wants you. I think, if Cass was Batman, this would have to be a choice she makes everyday - with everything she's ever known in jeopardy or flat-out gone, she'd have to choose to go out there, choose to assert herself as the Bat. And despite it all I think she would do it. She never loses, after all.

(I didn't mention Damian but for a non-serious answer if he was her Robin he would be the biggest pain in her neck and she would punt him off several roofs).