#i'm gonna have to go back through and correct all these tags at some point

[lightning-of-farosh]

To the Stars #2

AU: small Hyrule, adult Legend I couldn't tell you if this was the first or second iteration. I just know that the title of the doc is "good and loved"

There was a kid digging next to the road. Mud stained his arms, stopping near the elbow, and his too-big sleeves threatened to roll down from his biceps. Dirt was smeared across his cheeks, not able to hide his dark eyes or messy, leaf filled brown hair.

A sword longer than his arm was strapped to his back, covered by an oval-ish dented shield.

Link ducked down behind a tree and watched as he dug and dug and dug.

No other travellers passed by; no merchants to peddle their wares, no postmen to deliver news. Flowers had grown around the edges of the worn dirt, peeking through where wheels and feet had once treaded.

Empty. Abandoned.

Except for the kid.

Birds sung in the trees, small animals darted through the bushes, and Link breathed in. There was a dull, bitter taste of fading charcoal on the air that turned into something physical deep in his lungs. Almost as though it was trying to weigh him down, to keep him there, chained to this place.

(All he had done was walk through a swirling portal. All he had done was run from Zelda’s disappointment and the watching eyes of the kingdom and the smell of rabbit in his home.)

Link shifted his weight.

Dead leaves crackled beneath his heel. The birds fell silent and he pressed himself against the tree, not daring to breathe as the boy’s head shot up, searching the shadows of the woods with frantic, bolting eyes.

One was blackened around the edges, fading from purple to green to yellow and matched a jagged, scabbed over cut that lined the kid's jaw. His fingers, darkened by fresh dirt, reached for the pommel of his sword as he tilted his head to the side and listened.

Hylia, Link cursed because the child was small. Smaller than he had been when he'd first heard Zelda in his dreams and set out to fight Ganon. What is he? Five?

The birds returned one by one, and Link watched as fingers released the pommel of the sword and returned to their task. They scooped up dirt faster than before, pushing it to the side bit by bit. It was like watching a badger; except tiny, child hands couldn't get quite as much traction as massive claws.

Only when he was half buried in a hole did he stop, tugging something up and out.

It looked like a wooden box of some sort, except the wood had warped from the rain and it was tied together with twine. The child hoisted it under his arm and got to his feet, not bothering to brush the earth off his ripped up knees and bruised calves.

His tunic, Link thought, looked familiar. It was green over brown, just like his old one before he had replaced it with red over green and his long, blue hat.

Just like that of the hero, some traitorous voice whispered in the back of his head. It sounded like Impa.

Link scowled. Shut up, he told her and stepped out from behind the tree. "Hey! Hey kid!"

Carved wood, painted blue and shimmering with magic sigils, appeared in the child's hand. It sang as it headed towards Link's head and he cursed, ducking beneath the boomerang and staying low as it whirled around in a tight semicircle to come back.

Dark eyes were narrowed and the kid caught the boomerang like he was used to it. Like he had depended on it.

A perfect throw.

Swallowing down the heaviness in the back of his throat, Link tried to grin as he straightened. It felt too faux, so he let it drop. "Hey, look, I—"

"It's mine," the kid said.

Link blinked. "What—"

Holding the box close to his side, the kid lifted his scraped chin and glared at Link. "It's mine," his tone refused to waver even as he backed towards the trees. "I found it."

"I, well," Link blinked. "Not gonna lie, kid, I don't really want it—"

Dark eyes narrowed even more, searching Link's face. They paused, briefly, on the streak of pink in blonde hair.  The boomerang faltered.

Link held up his hands, stepping further away from the tree and into the light, but off to the side. He didn't want to get closer—not really. Not yet.

"What are you doing here?" The kid backed up so he was on the edge of the woods. Light trickled through the leaves, casting a mask of shadows across his features. There was a tinge of something in his words, an accent Link couldn't quite place even though the voice was rough from disuse.

"I got lost."

Fingers tightened, eyes darted up the road, and pointed ears stood up straighter to catch every sound that rustled through the trees. He looked like a deer, trapped in the open, hoping that nothing would come out of the darkness with open jaws and bloody teeth.

"No," the kid said, taking a step back, "you didn't."

Link scowled. "Yeah," he said, "I did; I'm actually really good at it. Which sucks for me but is—apparently—good for everyone else."

Nails were digging into the wood of the boomerang, but the kid hadn't moved. He just watched with wide eyes.

A frog croaked and fled deeper into the woods.

"Look," Link sighed, rubbing a hand down the side of his face. "Just point me in the direction of the nearest town and I'll leave you alone, alright?"

The kid tilted his head to the side, brow furrowing. He bit his torn, dry bottom lip that had already been abused many times in the past, and pointed his boomerang towards a towering mountain in the distance. "That way," he said.

Link stared at the mountain top. "You mean, like, at the base—?"

Snorting, the kid gave him a sour, but confused, look. "No," he said, "on the other side."

On the—

"What," Link spat, more in shock than anything. "Are you serious? The other side?"

The kid blinked, the tense muscles along his jaw going slack as he stared at Link.

"Are you kidding me?"

A boomerang hit him on the shoulder and Link winced, rubbing at the bruise it would no doubt leave behind. He turned to its owner, opening his mouth to give him a piece of his mind, but stopped at the sight of bone white knuckles and colour fading beneath smeared dirt. 

"You're so loud," the kid hissed, gaze overly bright as he searched the woods. "Are you trying to be found?"

"Found? Found by what—"

Birds burst from the distant trees, cawing as they fled to the sky.

Both of them turned to look. Nothing moved in the spaces between the trees; no birds, no beasts, no monsters.

The kid glanced back at Link, looking over his red tunic, the pack on his back, and sword strapped to his waist. His hands were shaking, brown eyes darting around as he thought before focusing back on a pair of blue.

"Come on," he said, motioning towards the darkness of the woods.

Link stepped out onto the road to cross and felt as if something had taken hold of his stomach. It was like stepping into the Dark World all over again, except the sun was high in the sky and no howling beasts waited for him around every corner. "What—"

Darting across the open space, the kid snatched him by the wrist and yanked him to the other side, tugging him into the underbrush past the newly dug hole in the ground.

Wood crunched under Link's heel and he looked down.

It was a grave marker.

oOo

They travelled silently, slipping around a lake that had sneering, snarling creatures slipping below the water's surface. Link was able to make out red fins and green scales before he was tugged away back into the trees.

Octoroks littered the area, spitting rocks at any sign of movement, and he let himself be guided through faded deer trails and the spaces between towering tree trunks until the forests gave way to copper-green rock formations.

"So, kid," Link crossed his arms over his chest and watched as the small figure inspected the paths leading through the odd valley, easily squeezing past rocks to peek over the edges. "How old are you?"

Looking over his shoulder, the kid scowled. "Why?"

"Well, I mean," Link shrugged. "It's hard to place my fate in someone who's five, you know?"

"I'm not five."

Link's brow rose. "Okay, not five," he said, "six?"

The kid dropped from his look out, shot Link a nasty glare, and worked his way over to one of the many boulders.

"Seven? Eight?"

Cheeks pink, shoulders hunched, the child dug a crimson bracelet out of the folds of his over-sized tunic and fitted it around his wrist. It easily slid over the whole of his hand and looked as though it would fall off at any second.

His silence was cold and heavy as he stepped up to a boulder, braced his hands against the side, and pushed. It was bigger than he was—but that didn't matter.

What mattered was the glistening in his gaze and the way his body seemed to crumple beneath each question.

Link's teasing grin faded as something darker pooled in his stomach. "Hey, wait, kid."

Rock groaned and rolled to the side, revealing waiting darkness.

Reaching out, Link placed his hand on a bony shoulder. Something thick and bitter made a home in the back of his throat as something that felt remarkably like pain clawed at his chest. "Do you know how old you are?"

The kid looked up at him, caught between horrific youth and desperate maturity. "No," he admitted.

Link pulled his hand as if it had been burned. He flexed his fingers and couldn't decide whether he should laugh or cry. Where's your family? He wanted to ask, what happened to your parents? What happened to you?

The kid nodded towards the darkness. "Come on," he said, not looking up at Link's heavy gaze. "It's dangerous to stay out in the open too long."

Swallowing his questions, Link stepped down into the dark and waited as the grunts of a child and the grumbling of stone echoed across the tunnel. A sliver of sunlight peered through a tiny opening left behind, but flame sputtered to life and the kid held up a candle.

It wasn't enough to banish the darkness, but it was enough that Link didn't trip over the cracks in hastily carved stairs. A cavern waited at the bottom with two stone bowls filled with charred wood. They lit easily and the candle hissed as it was blown out.

A bed made of tied together logs sat in the furthest corner from the entrance. Next to it, leaning against the wall, was a ladder made out of warped sticks that glistened in the dim firelight, the shadows along the side darkened from where it had been charred by harsh, hungry flames. One of the rungs had broken off and dangled off the edge, not yet repaired and possibly resolute to the rest of its days like that.

It made a good place to hold a quiver and bow, however, and that was exactly what the kid had used it for.

A small, wooden boomerang sticking out from a book, halfway through the pages, and was joined by some vials, and a good amount of round, fist sized bombs piled up together because there was nowhere else to put them.

Link turned to the kid.

He was poking the flames with a broken stick, a deep, thoughtful frown marring his features. 

“You live here?”

The kid shrugged. "Now," he said.

"Now?"

"Yeah. Someone else lived here first."

"What happened to them?"

Dark eyes glanced over at him and turned back to their task. "Dunno. He was here and then he wasn't."

Link exhaled. That was something for later, he figured, not bothering to try and pick apart the meaning behind... that.  Instead, he frowned at the sight of the dirt crusted box still under the kid's arm. "So," his voice was full of forced casualness, "what's up with that?"

The stick was tossed into the fire and the kid hugged his prize to his chest. "It's mine," he said, firelight glinting off his wide eyes, making him look wild and young and more hunter than prey.

"Yes," Link said patiently. "We've covered that—but why did you dig it up?"

The kid looked down at it, tilted his head to the side, and turned his attention back to Link. "Because I wanted it," he told Link with the same patience.

"You—" Link leaned his weight back on his heels and counted to ten. "You just wanted it?"

"Yeah."

Hylia help me. "You can't just—look, okay. Kid. Robbing graves isn't good."

Fingers tightened around the box. "Why not?" The kid said, tone sharp. "They're not going to use it; they're dead."

Link inhaled. "Yes," he said, "but—"

"What use is anything to the dead? They're dead. They're not coming back."

“Okay, that’s true, but how would you feel if someone took your stuff when you died? Just stole everything?”

The kid shrugged. “I don’t care,” he said, turned away physically from the conversation. “They’d need it more than me anyway.”

"That's—" Link closed his eyes. "Okay," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "Sure, kid. Whatever you say."

The hunter expression melted away and the kid sat down on the dirt floor, picking at the twine wrapped around the box. He tensed and stopped when Link came close, but continued after a few, long seconds.

They both waited with baited breath as the lid opened and Link frowned. There were needles and thread, a small, half finished doll, and quite a few buttons of various colours.

"Oh," he said, "It's a sewing kit."

"A what?”

Link leaned over the kid’s shoulder, examining the wound up measuring tape and a small container full of pins. “It’s used for making and repairing clothing.”

"Oh," the kid picked up a spool of brown thread and looked over the rips in his tunic. "Do you know how to... uh—"

"Sew?"

"Yeah."

Link frowned. "It's been a while," he admitted, "but I can teach you the basics, sure."He held his hands out for the box.

The kid flinched away, grasping the wood with mud stained fingers, digging his nails into the grain. His expression was torn between want and fear as his shoulders shook.

“Okay,” Link said, pulling his hands back. “Why don’t you, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked around at the collection of stuff that littered the cave.

Had he dug all this up?

“How about this,” Link said, “you keep hold of the rest of the box and I’ll just use what I need, okay?”

The kid frowned, looking down at the colours he held in his hands. He peeked out from beneath his filthy bangs. "You won't take it?"

"Nah, kid," Link sat down beside him with an amused huff and rested his hands on his knees. "It's all yours. Promise."

An inhale. A sigh. Trembling hands lowered the box to the floor between them and released it one finger at a time. "Okay," the kid said, "show me?"

Link pulled one of his old tunics from his pack. It was green and brown, just like the kid's, with a similar stitching pattern around the collar. He talked through it, using as much of the firelight as he could while the child inched closer and closer.

Curiosity overwhelmed fear until small hands rested on his legs and the kid had braced himself over Link's lap to watch his fingers. He smelled of earth and metal, of salt water and ash and there were layers upon layers of dried mud caked into his skin.

Fire crackled, burning on until the tips of his fingers stung from needle pricks and holding the thin metal. “Would you like to try?” Link offered the thread and tunic to the kid.

He took them both and stared at the half-done work Link had already completed before looking up helplessly.

Link laughed and reached out his hand. “Come on,” he said, motioning for the kid to come closer. “Don’t worry—I’ll show you. It’s like this—” taking child hands in his own, he guided their movements. “In, over, out, over, see? You got it.”

The kid hunched over the tunic in his lap, tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth, the fabric almost brushing his nose he was so close to the stitching, but he worked with careful, steady hands. The thread wasn’t quite even, but it was good enough.

“See?” Link said, showing him how to tighten it so there was just a small seam left behind. “There you go!”

Running his fingers over the once ripped tunic, the kid looked up at Legend with wide eyes, and smiled.

[bonny-kookoo]

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | Welcome Home [Request]

Jungkook can't remember the last time you've been apart for so long. And with you gone, he might just go crazy- or make odd spontaneous decisions.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, they're so goofy, so much love, smut, lube? is that a warning?, bare sex (MC has an IUD), Jungkook got a haircut bc his girl was not around to make him contemplate his decisions before making them

Requested by: Miriwe on Patreon

Length: 2k words

-> Masterlist

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"I'm gone three days and you're already going crazy apparently." You laugh as you walk into the living room, where Jungkook is sitting on the couch, not having heard you walk in it seems like.

He immediately pauses his game to jump over the back of the furniture, almost tripping as he runs to you, picking you up to hold you close.

"Of course I went crazy!" He laughs, putting you down to your feet again to kiss you. "Had to spend three days in an empty bed without my fiancé." He laughs into his kisses, and you giggle. "Why didn't you tell me you were back? I would've picked you up from the airport." He whines a bit childishly, while you just shrug.

"Nah, would've caused too much of a commotion." You deny, reminding him of the fact that he's always causing some chaos whenever he's seen in public. "But putting that aside, when did you buzz it off?" You ask, fingers curiously running over the shaven sides of his head.

"Yesterday, actually." He chuckles. "My hair was getting in the way." He shrugs.

"So you decided 'oh yeah, I'm just gonna get even hotter while my girlfriend is away with her parents' like, excuse me?" You scold playfully.

"Fiancé, first of all, and I guess that already answers the question if it suits me." He laughs, happily correcting you in your own title.

"Ah, I can't believe I'm gonna get married to you." You swoon teasingly, smacking his chest once. "Now lemme go, I'm hungry." You say- but he's not letting you go at all. If anything, he pulls you even closer to himself.

"I'm hungry too." He tells you instead. You look at him in confusion.

"Okay? Then let me cook, idiot." You say, but he shakes his head.

"Nop." He denies, before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom, hand loudly smacking your ass.

"Jeon Jungkook, no!" You laugh. "Please, I'm so jetlagged from the flight-" You complain, but he lets you down gently on the unmade bed, sheets unruly from his nightly rest. He's not really been sleeping well without you home- the three days of not having you around truly reminding him of just how much he needs you in his life.

Not just to keep order, but in general.

As odd as it sounds, he even caught himself multiple times the first day calling out to you, just to remember you're not home. His mind expected you in bed, in the kitchen, in the living room, every single time he'd enter the room- and the kitchen felt lonely, suffocating, with no company but the buzzing fridge and ticking cat-shaped clock on the wall. His house suddenly felt.. bland.

Especially on the second day, when he came out of the shower just to find the bed cold and empty, he found himself sitting on the edge of it, looking through pictures of you and him on his phone, browsing his gallery for hours until he finally fell asleep. It was a reminder, those few days. A reminder that he needs you, that you're a part of his life he can't really bear to not have around anymore.

A reminder that he made the right decision in asking you to marry him, entering the final stage of your relationship.

"I'll do all the work baby." He purrs, crawling over you as you stretch your limbs, visibly relaxing in the familiar home once more. "How was your trip?" He wonders, and you laugh, his hands helping you out of your sweater.

"Kook, I love you, but I'm not talking about my goddamn parents when we're about to have sex." You complain, and he chuckles, nodding.

"Alright, you got a point." He admits, pulling down your pants and socks to kiss up your leg. "I missed you so much." He hums against your skin, and you smile, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair.

"So much so you buzzed your hair off?" You laugh, and he nods, teasingly biting at your thigh.

"Exactly." He agrees. "Would've gone bald if you'd stayed away a day longer." He says, lips traveling up your stomach before his hands cup your chest, running over to the back of your body to unhook your bra.

"Oh no!" You jokingly exclaim. "But honestly I think your face makes every haircut work. Even that Dora-the-Explorer situation you had a year back." You say, making him roll his eyes as he throws your bra down carelessly.

"Stop bringing that up." He complains, and you laugh brightly so.

"But it's funny!" You tell him, before he bites at your chest. "Hey, stop biting!" You giggle.

"Stop biting~!" He mimics you, before he moves to kiss your neck. "As if you don't love it." He purrs.

"Caught me." You reply, legs moving already to wrap around him. "Now get naked, nerd." You flirt, and he can't help the laugh that escapes him.

"Can we be romantic at least once?" He whines, leaning back to rid himself of his shirt and pants.

"No, you'd burn the house down with those yankee-candles you got." You threaten, and he rolls his eyes yet again, opening the bedside drawer to search for a small bottle of scented lube, just in case.

"You really have no trust in me, baby." He shakes his head, putting the little plastic bottle on the side for now as he moves to pull your panties from your legs. "What if I used electrical ones?" He proposes. "Turn on some music. Cigarettes after sex- like, the band, not me smoking." He corrects.

"Obviously." You hum. "I'd leak your nudes if you smoked inside the house." You sigh, and he looks at you for a moment.

"That's a joke, right?" He asks, and you shrug, smiling at him. "That's a joke. You're joking." He states once more, but still, you don't answer. The funny part is that deep down, he actually believes you would indeed do that. You're a wildcard after all- he never  really knows if what you say is a joke or an actual fact you state.

Like when you said that he was fine accompanying his friend to his bachelor party, which was held at a nightclub, naked dancers included. You'd simply told him to have fun, but eat at home- and while for a moment or two, he didn't really know what you meant, he realized it soon after. You had no issue taking a look- hell, you constantly told him that some of the other racers were 'pretty hot', but he knows you'd never go after anyone but him. You might get your appetite up, yes-

but you eat at home.

"Jungkook you've never even sent me nudes you idiot!" You laugh after a moment of watching him clearly contemplating his life-choices up until now, finally realizing that you're right. "Or did you sent someone else some, huh?" You suddenly threaten, foot against his abs keeping him away from you while you glare.

"Absolutely not." He shakes his head immediately. "You can bet your pretty ass on that." He says, as you remove your leg from him, hands now reaching out, inviting him back in. "Only got you-" He hums towards you, kissing your lips hungrily. "Only need you." He finishes, and you sigh, hands on his arms.

"Missed you." You admit. "Couldn't sleep well at all." You say, and he smiles.

"Me neither." He shakes his head. "Thought about you way too much." Jungkook tells you, while his hand travels between your legs, touch reviving your soul it feels like as he works you up.

"We're so in love, it's actually kinda disgusting." You laugh, and he joins in on that.

"Nah." He denies. "We're just the definition of love." He shrugs, curling his fingers inside you, making you arch your back.

"Jungkook please-" You whine. "Stop teasing me, I'm way too horny now!" You complain, and he grins, moving to stroke his length with the hand still covered in your arousal.

He's just as impatient, but he also knows he needs to prep you well. Years of being in a relationship with you also comes with in-depth knowledge of your body, and how to love you just right. You might not realize it sometimes, but he knows that if he doesn't pay good attention to detail, you'll be sore tomorrow-

and he plans on making up for those three days, just to remind you what you've been missing.

He reaches for the tiny bottle on the bedside table to squeeze some of the clear liquid out, making sure to make it as comfortable as possible for you, before he lines himself up with your entrance, moving your legs up a little to pull you closer. It's been something you've been quite insecure about- having refused to admit to him for months that he's packing a bit too much for you to handle without any help sometimes, and he's felt bad that you thought you couldn't tell him. Back then, he'd been insecure himself- with no prior knowledge about anything regarding sex, you've been both a little lost in translation on some occasions.

There's been more than a handful of awkward moments during your times together- and by now, you're both comfortable to the point where nothing is weird any longer.

The sweet smell of sweet strawberries fills the air faintly as he pushes himself in, sighing in bliss at the familiar feel of your body welcoming him. "Good?" He asks you, and you nod, making him tap your nose so you open your eyes again. "Really?" He asks again, and you move a bit now, nodding. It's the confirmation he needed to start moving, leaning back on his heels to roll his hips forwards, your lower body resting over his thighs as he keeps you elevated like that with his hands holding your legs. You've got your arms relaxed into the pillows over your head, eyes closed as your chest sways with every thrust he delivers.

He loves having you back. Not just your body- but you, in general.

"I wanna come with you next time." He tells you, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs. "Don't care if they like me or not." He growls, never slowing down his pace.

"Jungkookie~!" You whine, before laughing. "What did I say literally- like- twenty minutes ago?" You complain, and he laughs too, nodding.

"Sorry, sorry." He apologizes, letting go of your legs to lean over you, kissing you once more. It's the only way he knows he'll shut up for long enough- there's just so much rushing through his head, everything that's happened in those three days trying to break out his mouth just to talk to you- because he can talk to you now. You're back home, and he just missed you so fucking much.

Now, of course you talked over the phone daily, sure. But it's just not the same. It's not close enough.

Right now, he's out of breath, forced to part from you just a little, leaning his face into the crook of your neck as he presses his pelvis into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close, arms around his neck keeping him from parting from you. "I love you so much." He hums against your skin, picking up his pace, exhaling through his nose as his jaw clenches, orgasm approaching quickly. His hand assists you by finding your most sensitive spot, pushing you over the edge so he can let go as well, your core clenching around his length to keep him in, milk him for all he's got.

He's out of breath, and so are you- his body simply laying down close to you, moving you around to lay over him, still inside you. "Kook, I'm sticky-" You whine, but he just smiles, hands smacking your butt. "Jungkook!" You scold, laughing, and he simply reaches for your face, to peck your lips.

Twice. Because once is just never enough.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (part 7)

A/N; Alright, fristly, thank you all so much for the love you're giving this fic. Seriously it warms my heart. This tag list is huge and it makes me want to cry. Also, i couldn't tag on the post cuz i had reached the word limit TT0TT I hope it works anyway

I'm getting more and more anxious to fail you guys, i just hope i'm not gonna fuck this up...

Again thank you for all your ideas and headcanons you guys are amazing!

Warnings: cursing?

The first month. You were in denial. You spent it overworking yourself, avoiding anything that could remind you of him. You had even put his stupid plush in his room, closing the door and keeping it closed. Laswell kept a close eye on you, you knew that. 

You'd spend most of your time on base, only going home to sleep. And then. You were put on time off. Forcefully. 

Laswell asked you to take a week off and to stay home. You had strongly fought over it but to no avail. So around the first week to the second month, your time off began. You thought you might go insane. But you received visits from your new neighbor who you learnt was named Peter. Peter was a nice guy, a bit shy. He'd pass by sometimes to drop one of your packages. You'd have small talk or conversations. 

It made you feel less alone. Because not only did you miss… Simon. You also missed the rest of the squad. The house felt dead..during that week, your mind had started going downhill. By Thursday you had gone back to his room to fetch the little reaper. Now you'd spend your days on your couch, cuddling the damn thing. 

Laswell had ordered you to work from home for the rest of the month. She passed by often. To check on you. She'd get in, not bothering to knock because you couldn't care anymore. 

Once she walked in on you, sitting on the bathroom floor in front of the washing machine, eating chips, watching the plush inside spin around. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Reaper is taking a bath." You had answered with very little emotion. 

During that month, Peter had spent a bit more time with you. He'd pass by to share some food, or to watch a movie. He seemed to have taken pity on you. Even though he picked up Reaper once and you had thrown him a murderous glare. 

And then Laswell had passed by. A serious look on her face. 

"The mission isn't going as planned. They're not coming home yet." 

You had felt yourself break a bit more. 

"Are they ok?" 

"From our intel, they're ok." 

You had sighed with relief. This was the third month they'd been gone. You didn't think you'd ever feel this type of sadness in your life. There was no point denying it. In such little time, Simon had managed to get his way through your heart and nest there. 

Your recent coping mechanism was putting on his hoodie, and sleeping in his bed with Reaper. He'd be so pissed if he knew. You were hoping he'd come back so he could be pissed with you. At least he'd be here. 

You'd spend your days at the base, this time your schedule was closely being watched by Laswell, and then you'd go home, absolutely hating it, trying not to cry. 

A heart wrenching thought kept stammering your brain. What if he never came back… the last things you would have said to each other would have been said in anger. You didn't think you could live through that. 

When the 4th month started, you had become unbearable for Laswell. You wanted to know everything about the mission. She kept refusing, reminding you it was a highly classified mission, as you replied you couldn't give a shit about classified or not. 

You wanted squad 141 back. Or as you had almost screamed once 'your team'. You had seen Laswell wanting to correct you that it wasn't your team but she refrained, understanding how you were feeling. 

She couldn't tell you about the mission but she made sure to keep you updated. They're fine. They've managed to get to the location. They've been ambushed but made it out. 

You were torn in between hating her updates and feeling relieved. To keep you busy and from having a nervous breakdown she put you up on a mission. Some drug lord that used the dark web to sell and buy his merchandise. You were definitely not into it. But if you could pass your anger on that asshole you would. 

You had easily infiltrated his little circle, managed to dismantle various locations, though he kept slipping through your fingers. 

You had gone back home that night, around the middle of the fourth month, absolutely frustrated from everything. 

"It's so fucking frustrating you know? It's like he's always a tiny step away." 

You explained as you were unpacking your food order. 

"He seems to know there's someone after his ass and I can't fucking get to him." You continued. "And Laswell is not letting me get onto the file for the mission the boys are on. GOD I could just … throw something on fire!" 

You groaned looking straight in the eyes of your friend. The plush looked at you without moving. 

You sighed. "I've been talking to an inanimate object." You said, putting your face in your hands. You dropped them on the table again.

"No offense Reaper." You apologized, turning your attention back to the food, the TV in the background filling up the silence a bit. 

You kept munching on your food. 

After you were done, you grabbed Reaper and sat on the couch, a blanket over you. You squished the fluffy death spawn in your hands. You missed him. You FUCKING missed him. 

You didn't even know how you'd react when he'd be back. You were still furious at him. Deeply hurt. But you were also so worried, and so sad. 

You groaned. You wanted him to be back. Even if it was to yell at him that he was an asshole.

A knock at the door was heard. You rolled your eyes. You got up, Reaper still in your arms as you went to open the door. 

"Hey!" 

You stared at Peter. 

"Hi Peter." You replied without a single emotion on your face. 

"Ah… bad day?" 

"Bad existence." 

He laughed. You walked inside, knowing he'd follow you. 

"I came to check to see if you wanted to watch a movie." 

You let yourself fall back down on the couch. 

"Not really into it tonight. Sorry." 

"Nah no problem I get it." He said sitting at the other end of the couch. "Is there something I can do to cheer you up?" . 

You looked at him for a little minute. You shook your head. "Alright. Want a beer?" 

"I hate beer." 

"Fine. A shot of vodka?" He proposed. 

You nodded. 

That guy was a lightweight. 5 shots of vodka and he couldn't properly form a sentence. You had walked him back to his apartment, making sure he was in bed and locking his door. You were a bit drunk too but not enough to erase your thoughts. 

You sighed. Walking into the hallway you stopped, looking right and left. You wanted to sleep in his bed again… you shouldn't. But you wanted to. You walked into the room looking at the bed. You remembered waking up in it, his body warm against yours. His morning voice was deeper. You liked it. You closed your eyes for a second before turning around and walking into your room. 

The alcohol helped as you closed your eyes, you fell fast asleep.

 

The day after had been the same. And the day after as well. But the next was a bit different. You were concerned by something during your work. It seemed that the drug lord had also a hacker in his ranks. And not a bad one. You could probably outsmart him or her but you had been neglectful. Your mind had been more worried about another mission that wasn't yours. 

You headed home after the day. You were exhausted. The fourth month was coming to an end. You didn't feel like eating. You didn't feel like anything. As you got home, you showered, drying your hair afterwards, slipping into one of Simon's black hoodies. You took Reaper with you, slipping under the covers of your bed. This time, you couldn't stop the tears from falling. You hugged the round fluffy thing against you, wishing he was there instead. 

And it was with the tears that the Sandman took you away. 

Around 6 am, your phone rang. You blinked your eyes open. Without checking, which had become a habit, you answered. 

"Hello..?" You answered. 

"Y/N."

"Laswell ? Kate… it's 6 am." 

"We have news from squad 141." 

You sat up in your bed. 

"What is it…" 

"They've completed their mission. The extraction was successful."

You closed your eyes, a shaky breath leaving your lips. 

"They'll be back in a little over 24h." 

"Thank you… really." 

"No problem. Go back to sleep." 

You chuckled. She hung up. You let yourself fall back into bed. They were ok. He was ok… you looked up at the ceiling. Now that you knew he was coming back, that he was safe. The worry, the anxiety had vanished. Pain and anger taking their place. How was he going to react? Will you be strangers? How will you react? One thing was for sure. You wouldn't be the one to give in. You wanted to… god you wanted to. You wanted to feel him near you. To hug him. But the way he left was printed in your memory. The way you felt when you got home, in an empty house. With not a single word from him. 

Pushed by a rise of determination, you got out of bed, grabbing each hoodie you could find that was his. You took off the one you were wearing, and walked to the bathroom, throwing them all in the washing machine. You put it to wash. He wants his hoodies back? Fine. He'll have them. Brand New. Without any trace that you wore them. 

And with that thought in mind you climbed back into bed. 

You had flung yourself back into work the next day, trying to suppress the new anxiety that grew in you. You were still trying to figure out who the hacker working for the drug lord was. He seemed to be good at cleaning any trace of himself. You didn't want to go home. You glanced at your phone. 2 am. You were still at the base. You were surprised Laswell hadn't come to drag you home herself as she sat not too far from you.

You had been sitting here for the entire day, trying to figure out your little con's next move. It was infuriating. Driving you insane. You blinked. 

Hi birdie. 

You froze. What? No. It was a coincidence. You checked that your location or anything that could be used to track you down was locked away and secure. 

You kept browsing the website deep in the dark web, shaking the odd feeling away. But this time, it was a whole sentence that made you frown. 

On a little branch was a little bird. The little sparrow, unaware of the cat lurking by, sang its heart away. 

You were sure. It was meant for you. That Goddamn hacker was taunting you. 

"Laswell." You called. 

"Yes?" She answered, stepping towards you. 

You pointed at the screen, highlighting the little text with your mouse. 

"Shit." She cursed. "what does it mean?" 

You shrugged. 

"It can mean various things. Obviously they know it's the Sparrow they are facing. But I've made sure my real identity was safe so I don't think they have that. My location is safe too, there was no hack attempt. These are just little messages scattered around the websites we're checking for their little trades." You explained. 

"So what? They're threatening you?" 

"I don't think so. It seems like they're trying to get on my nerves. Probably to distract me from something. Just got to find out what." You said with a sigh. 

"Alright. If you have anything new, call me. Now go home." She said a little tap on your back. 

You eyed the screen in front of you. This was interesting. If they truly were trying to distract you, it was a bit silly. You took a mental note to be more careful from now on. 

You had scanned all the little messages around the web sites, trying to find something that would link them. Clearly, they were all aimed at you. Whoever it was kept calling you birdie. And it was highly annoying. You were growing tired yet you felt so giddy. You felt nervous. You closed your eyes, sighing. It was time to head home.

 

The night had been short. You were exhausted. You rolled around in bed. You closed your eyes. Silence. 

Silence… and a laugh? You frowned. 

You got up, taking Reaper in your arms. You slowly opened the door, peeking out. There were definitely voices whispering. You opened the door wider, stepping out and tip-toeing your way to the end of the hallway. 

You looked around the corner and froze. 

"God fucking damn it!" You cursed out loud. 

You fully came into view now taking in the sight before you. 

"Sparrow!!" 

The man jumped, running to you and swaying you in his arms. 

"God soap! You're squishing me and Reaper!" You complained. 

"Who?" Gaz asked. 

After putting you down you looked at soap, extending your arms to his face so he could be eye to eye with the plush. 

"Oh. Alright. Sorry Reaper." He said with a wide smile. 

You smiled jumping on him this time. They were back. They were safe!

"Hahaha!" He laughed. 

He put you down again. Stepping aside to let you greet the rest of the team.

You hugged gaz. Then Price took you in his arms, staying like that for a little moment. 

"Missed you dad" you whispered jokingly. 

"Missed you sweety." He whispered in the same tone. 

And then came his turn. Standing in front of each other, eye to eye. You wanted to run and hug him. Fuck you wanted to touch him to make sure this was real. Unfortunately for the both of you, the pain was deeper than anything else. He didn't move, no expression. Did he regret? Did he care? Had he already put aside anything feeling or affection you had towards each other? With a lump in your throat you spoke first. 

"Lieutenant." You greeted. 

He frowned. 

"Sparrow." He answered. 

Nothing else was said. It broke your heart. You could feel it. You turned around looking at the guys again, clearly sensing their discomfort.

"You were supposed to arrive a bit later, what happened?" You asked sitting down on the couch, the boys mimicking you. Ghost remained up, glancing at you from afar. 

"We managed to wrap it up and we jumped on the plane back. We've been told someone has been worried about us." Gaz answered, sending you a knowing look. 

"Really? Wonder who could it be…" you feigned innocence.

"Yes, it's odd, Laswell said she was pestered for weeks. " Price added. 

"Truly curious." You added an innocent look and batted your lashes, making the men laugh. 

"What about you? How's it going?" Soap asked. 

"I'm fine." You lied. 

"You look tired." Price noted. 

Suddenly you felt watched.. Everyone was staring at you. Ghost looked more tense than the others. 

"I've been working on a mission and it's been a bit complicated. I stayed at the base until pretty late- with Laswell." You looked at Price.

He smirked. 

"What's complicated about it?" Gaz asked. 

"It's… it was easy at first. But it seems that I'm facing someone like me…" you tried to explain without giving any details as the mission was confidential. "And he, or she, seems to always be a step ahead. And… mostly. It's been acting weird." 

You frowned, losing yourself a bit in your own mind.

"Hey, Sparrow" soap called. 

You looked at him. 

"You got this." 

You smiled at him. Nodding off. 

"We brought breakfast. Ghost said you like muffins!" Price chimed.

You glanced at the man again, still glancing at you. If he thought it'd be that easy he was wrong. 

You ate breakfast with the team, so thrilled to have them back. You felt as if life had been brought back into the apartment. The only thing that took away some of that happiness was the tension between you and Ghost. 

After helping you clean out they offered to take you to base, and you accepted. You excused yourself to go get dressed quickly. Once you were ready, you opened your door falling face to face with a skull mask. 

You stared at each other. You did your best to show an emotionless facade. 

"You washed the hoodies." 

"Yes." 

"And you put them in my room." 

"Correct."  

Silence. 

"Are you giving them back?"

"Affirmative." 

"Fuck…" he cursed frowning. "Y/N-"

"Sparrow." You corrected. 

He looked hurt for a second. 

"Why?" He asked. 

"A beg your pardon?" You asked frowning too. 

"Why are you doing this?" He questioned. You could feel the frustration. 

"Doing what? Isn't this what you wanted, Lieutenant? You wanted to erase everything and you wanted your hoodies back." 

"Stop…" 

"Stop what?" 

He didn't answer. Your heart was beating so fast. It was torture not giving in. But this time you wouldn't let him get away with it. He couldn't just play with your feelings like this. He sighed, straightening up. He looked… embarrassed? For a second. 

"Did… did you have to wash them?" He asked. 

First you were confused. And then you remembered what he had said once. 

"Everytime I take back one of my hoodies there's your scent on it…" 

"What? I smell bad?" You laughed. 

"Quite the opposite…" 

You smirked.  Walking out of your room slowly and closing your door behind you. You looked up at him. 

"I wouldn't give you the pleasure of leaving my scent on it. You've lost that privilege." You finished with an innocent smile before turning away and walking away from him. 

You very distinctly heard him curse. You smirked. If he wanted you back, he'd have to fight for it. And if he didn't… then you'd be settled on his feelings. 

You had driven to the base with the squad. After getting out of the cars, you had all gathered. 

"It feels good to be back! See Sparrow? We're all good! We can come back to annoy you in your apartment!" Soap joked. 

"Don't you dare." Ghost had growled. 

"It will be my pleasure." You countered, sending a side glance to Ghost as he frowned again. Soap was thrilled. 

It was on a light note that you separated, the boys going their way to meet and start on the mission report, as you went back to your drug dealer. 

Walking in the big room, you sat down at one of the tables facing an enormous screen. Various setups with their own screens were scattered around the room, where people worked. You greeted everyone. You received smiles and little good mornings. 

You opened your laptop freezing on the spot. You blinked and gasped at the black screen. 'encrypted'. 

"No..nonononoo…" 

Laswell had immediately come to you. 

"What's wrong?" 

"My laptop is encrypted. Fuck!" You checked your phone. Also encrypted. 

"What does it mean?" 

"It means. Someone tried to get in. As a defense mechanism it encrypts itself, and the rest of the devices linked to it. It blocks anything or anyone from touching the data." 

You tried to explain, already trying to decrypt your device. 

"When did it happen?" 

"I don't know, recently. My phone was fine 20 mins ago." You explained. 

"Guys!" You called, gaining everyone's attention. "Any attack? Anything?" 

"No ma'am. We did find three other sentences on websites that were not on our radar. We managed to find 3 domains where the trades were active." The boy explained. 

"What…?" You were confused now. 

"He flagged these websites? He literally showed them to us?" Laswell interrogated.

You looked at your screen as it slowly booted back into your home screen. 

"Sparrow. What's going on." 

You were still in shock. The words written in a small window opened on the home's screen seemed to laugh at you. 

"Sparrow?" Laswell called again. 

You turned the screen to her. She frowned. 

"He served us these tips on a silver platter. And it wasn't to make a diversion on something big.  Because he's not working with the drug lord. Not anymore." 

You couldn't believe you were once again in this situation. Laswell sighed. 

"It's official. You're his target." 

You turned back to the screen, taking a deep breath rereading the words one last time. 

You're mine birdie.

Laswell had driven you home that evening. She had walked you to your door and walked you inside. There she was again. The mama bear. 

You sighed, dropping your bag on the floor, not even shocked to see the whole squad in the living room. You glared at soap. 

"Put down Reaper." You ordered. 

He immediately put it back on the couch, noticing your awful mood. Price had noted too, and had mostly noticed how Laswell was tense. 

"What's going on?" He asked, turning to Laswell. 

Before she could answer you chimed in, as you walked to grab a glass of water. 

"A mission going south. Nothing unusual in our field." You said, throwing a knowing look at Laswell.  

She looked pissed for a moment but brushed it off. 

"Y/N." She said seriously. You choked on the water. She had just spoken your real name in front of everyone. Everyone went silent looking at you and Kate. 

"You are not allowed to leave the base." She started. 

"I'm already not allowed to leave the base." You protested. 

"You are to be accompanied by someone each time you leave your apartment." 

You opened your mouth in shock, wait. This was going too far. The boys had turned serious. 

"You'll be closely watched by squad 141." 

"Oh come on! They've just come back from a mission!" You debated again. 

"No arguing." She ordered. 

"You are overreacting Kate." You answered in the same tone. 

"Hey hey. Intel." Price interupted, standing up. 

"No! No. Absolutely not." You snapped. "You are overreacting Kate. It wasn't even a threat. I'll get to him before he can even guess the continent I'm in." You started. 

"This isn't the first time Y/N! I'm not taking any chances." She tried to explain. 

"There's no need to take a chance. I'm literally at the base. I go nowhere else. I haven't gone into a civilian zone since… I don't even remember!" You debated. 

She crossed her arms. 

"Kate. Do you think I'm unsafe here, at the base?" You asked. 

"No." She was forced to admit. 

"Then no problem. No close security, no babysitters." You asked. 

She seemed to ponder. Then she sighed, relaxing a bit. 

"I still want to know." Price asked again. 

You rolled your eyes. You felt like you were being scolded by your parents. And God knows it hadn't happened in a very very long while. 

"I'm working on a mission. I had a target and it was being helped by a skillful fucker. Turns out, that fucker betrayed the target and seems a lot more interested in me." 

"Did he threaten you?" Soap asked. You had never seen him this serious. 

"No-"

"Yes." Laswell interrupted. You rolled your eyes. 

"Not. Really." You added. Glancing at Laswell. "It was some cryptic message. But he did try to hack me personally." You finally said sitting down at the counter. You sighed. You had to make sure to find him before Laswell and now, by the looks of it, Price, had a nervous breakdown. 

"No need for the squad." 

A shiver ran down your spine. You slowly turned to look at Simon. 

"I'm not going anywhere."

You wanted to throw something at his face.  

This bitch. You had looked at him in utter shock and disapproval. You were pacing around in your room. This was all too much. Your mind was a mix of so many things, emotions, thoughts. A soup. Your mind was soup. Wait. What?

You closed your eyes. You were going to go insane. 

A knock on the door was heard. You rolled your eyes for what seemed to be the hundredth time today. 

"Yes?" 

You had that funny feeling again as you saw him walk into your room, closing the door behind him. 

Does he have any idea the hold he had on you? You glanced at his hand. You wanted to smile but bit your lip to avoid it. He had one of his hoodies in his hand. 

"Do you want it?" 

"You want me to wear it now? " You ask. 

"Never said you couldn't. Just want them back." 

"No thank you." You answered with a fake forced smile because clearly he was so cute. 

He looked away with what seemed to be a smirk under his mask. 

"Are you going to be mad forever?" 

He asked. 

The question made your blood boil, turning your mood back to something very sour.  

"Why? This what you wanted no? Didn't think about the consequences when you'd be back?" You asked, stepping closer to him. "You put a single thought into what would happen if you'd be back? Or maybe you just thought I'd jump into your arms as if you hadn't broke me and stepped all over my FUCKING heart?" You finished, a few inches from him. 

You blushed slightly. Your lips had moved faster than your brain. But you had been honest with him. He looked hurt for a second. Like he had the right to. 

"Y/N. I'm sorry…" he said. 

You bit your lip. No. Not so easily. 

"Simon. Sorry isn't going to fix this…" you answered. 

"What is then? Tell me." His voice lowered. 

"You're going to have to make up your mind Simon. Do you want me in your life or not? I can't keep being hurt each time you feel like pushing me away." You said honestly. 

He frowned. His fingers lifting up to your waist. The touch gave you goosebumps. You hadn't felt his touch since he arrived. And you craved it. For some reason, while looking into his eyes, you knew he did too. He just seemed afraid to scare you away. He leant down letting his forehead touch yours. The mask felt cold against your skin. His other hand joined your waist this time, more confidently. He wrapped his arms more tightly around you pulling you flushed against him. Your breath had quickened. 

"Simon…" you whispered. 

"I've been wanting to hold you since I arrived…" he growled. 

"S-simon…" you tried, softly pushing on his chest with your hands. 

"To touch you … fuck… you smell so good…"

"Is this what you really wanted… to hold me so your shirt smells like me…" you smirked. 

He chuckled. 

"Are you going to wear my hoodies…?" 

"No…" you whispered. 

He held you tighter. 

You felt so warm, god you had missed him. There was still something in the back of your mind just repeating to you that he hurt you. 

"You're not going to make it that easily Simon… you need to make up your mind.." you broke. 

He stared into your eyes, so God damn close to you. 

Knock knock knock. 

"Hey guys! We're leaving, come say bye bye!" 

You laughed at Soap's voice. 

You separated with a curse. 

"God damn it johnny…" Ghost said. 

You cleared your throat. 

"Seems like we have places to be." You said.

He grabbed your wrist, marking you look into his eyes.

"I'll apologize properly. I promise."

"Try to figure out what you want first..." you said, a heavy weight on your heart.

Once in the living room you hugged everyone goodbye. Laswell and Price were the first to leave. A bit later you and Ghost walked gaz and soap to the door. 

"See you tomorrow then!" Soap cheered. 

"Absolutely not." Ghost answered. 

"It'll be lovely Soap." You countered. "Get home safely." 

"Lose yourself on the way." Ghost added. 

You smiled and rolled your eyes. 

Behind Soap, a silhouette appeared. 

"Hey Sparrow! Got you some-" 

The squad turned to stare at the new arrival. You smirked, feeling Ghost lean closer to you. 

"Hey Peter." You greeted. 

"Hum…hi… so… you want the muffins?"

"We have muffins." You heard Ghost next to you. 

"It will be lovely Peter, thank you." You smiled as you walked to him, grabbing the bag. He smiled at you sheepishly. 

"Let me present to you the squad" you said, turning back to them. 

"Ah… i-its not necessary… squad 141 is famous… especially… Humm.." 

"Me." Ghost said. His voice had gotten darker.

You noticed how Peter seemed to be scared of Ghost.  

"So… hum, which one is your roommate?" He asked, turning to you with a smile. 

You smiled apologetically to him. 

"Me." Ghost said again, this time grabbing the back of your pants and pulling you back closer to him. You gasped. What the…? (t

Soap and Gaz were trying not to laugh and Peter… had changed expression. 

"Oh, Nice. Hum, I'm gonna go guys. Nice seeing you, Sparrow." He smiled at you. 

Then he glanced up. If it wasn't for a tiny second you would have missed it. The cold and dark gaze Ghost and Peter sent each other. 

[entomjinx]

ONE PIECE CHAPTER 1113 SPOILERS!!!

It's tagged, it's in bold, if you didn't see it that's on you, but I'm sorry. (I'm also a little sick so sorry for how this starts to turn a little insane at the end.)

The reveal makes perfect sense. I've seen a few people struggle to figure out where it came from, so I'm gonna explain why it makes perfect sense and then pop off with some silly theory.

The first hint at the fact that the One Piece world is sinking exists all the way back in Long Ring Long Island.

That seems like an odd place to start, but it's the first time we're shown how drastic the tides of the ocean in the One Piece world can change. It's enough to separate entire parts of an island, causing it to appear as separate islands, once every year.

This implies that the tides change drastically over the course of much longer periods than it does in the real world.

After that, we get to Water Seven and discover that it's sinking, and that the Aqua Laguna is getting worse every year. We also know that it's caused by the water receding at Long Ring Long island. We're also outright told that they want to make the city float to stop the sinking problem.

We also, much later, see just how high Wano is in altitude.

Knowing that the Redline is so tall that it cannot be passed by any ship, cannot be broken through, and that Mariejois is sat right on top of it only adds to why it makes sense.

The world isn't "sinking," those some islands technically are(Water Seven, modeled after Venice), the tides are going to rise exponentially, and fast.

The force of the water would instantly drown most people, and those who survived would be those who could get to higher altitude islands, the sky islands, Fishman Island, or the Redline.

And because I know someone will try to point this out: land bound plant life can temporarily survive underwater, so Ohara's 5000 year old library tree would be fine for a a bit while submerged. There's lots of places with high tides who's plant life is just fine. (This also could explain why they'd be so willing to throw the books into the water. Not only was it to save them from the fire, but many of them had likely been submerged for long periods of time before. They knew the books would be find in the end because they had record of it. And well, it's mentioned in the chapter that Vegapunk means to finish what Ohara started.)

This would also explain how thorough the government was able to be with wiping out information from the void century. If only a few places can survive, then few things that tell the truth will survive, and even fewer people.

Do I think I'm 100% correct about any of this? Or course not, it's Oda. It's One Piece. Things are pretty much never predicted with 100% accuracy. But that's my thoughts on why it makes sense. Now we get into theory:

I have several points to make, so I'm going to write out the shortest ones first.

-This would, completely unironically, explain some of the centuries long racism campaign against fishman. They have no reason to fear the high tides. They will survive no matter what happens on the surface, and that scares the humans who cannot.

-I think that the extreme tide is a part of why the bridge is being built in Tequila Wolf. I believe the bridges purposes is to connect all the highest points of the world so there's no need for ships to carry them. This way, the Celestial Dragons will still have access to more slaves, produce, and anything they can't get within Mariejois on their own during the time period when everyone drowns.

-and now we get to the big one:

I think that the reason the 20 kings and their people destroyed the ancient kingdom is because the ancient kingdom had a way to survive the high tide while keeping the maximum number of people safe in the process, and while being able to save many more people. They refused to ask for help, and were instead afraid of the power the ancient kingdom held, so they sought to destroy it.

I think that the ancient "weapons" were instead a means of survival, and the reason they were hidden is because the 20 kings would have used them as weapons instead. We don't know much about the ancient kingdom, so much of this is speculation.

I think Pluton was a large enough ship that it could carry the entire kingdom. We've already seen some massive ships in One Piece, and Iceburg intends to turn the entirety of Water Seven into a ship, so the idea of an island sized ship isn't all that odd.

If you continue to think about it, why did none of the Beast Pirates manage to find Pluton while searching for the poneglyph in Wano? I have two theories for this based on the fact that we're told Wano would have to open it's borders in order to get Pluton. If the walls would need to be torn down, then we can continue to assume that Pluton is massive.

Theory one is that Pluton is is hidden within the mountain itself, and that the mountain was man-made to hide the ship. Not only would the walls need to come down, but the mountain itself would have to be destroyed. They would also need a way to survive the high tide without it, so creating a mountain that is high enough in altitude to keep them safe would have been a necessity. I think this is the more believable of the two theories.

Theory Two is that Pluton is Wano. The entire island is the ship, and many of Wano's people descended from the people of the ancient kingdom or those they rescued. This one is much less likely, but it's still a possibility in my mind.

We know that Poseidon was the former mermaid princess, and that the current one is Shirahoshi. She can control the sea kings. Why would this be important? Because if everywhere floods, then the sea kings, who are already very large creatures, suddenly have an influx of room to move, food to eat, and places to lay eggs. It would cause a population spike. *However,* that would cause an ecological disaster within the food chain. The sudden influx of sea kings would be desperate for any food they can get their hands on, and many would likely die of starvation. This means they need some way to repel them from the large ship.

We don't know anything about Uranus yet, so I've nothing for you.

Another thing we know about the ancient kingdom is that they seemed to be friendly with everyone, or at least it's implied via how many friends Joy Boy made.

Fishman: Along with the bonus of having Poseidon, the fishman also have access to the tree resin from Sabaody. Should the ship(Puton) or the ancient kingdom ever need to submerge in order to keep people safe or to have a temporary air bubble, They'd be safe.

Lunarians: The people who originally lived on top of the redline. Sinee the redline is high enough to not sink, it would have made sense for them to be trade partners.

Skypians and Shandians: Another race with wings. if the tides really got too high, then they could join them in the sky sea for a time. They could also trade with them.

Minks: Zunesha was a friend of Joyboy's. We don't know much else about that situation, but it's likely that Zunesha is plenty tall enough to keep the minks from drowning, and they could have traded often as well. Maybe Zunesha was even able to do something similar to the giants.

The Giants: This feels like the most important one to me, and not just because of recent chapters. Obviously the giants think very highly of Nika/Joyboy, but it's also very likely that Elbaf is tall enough to survive the high tide, and if not, the the giants themselves are. If you look at what's known about current giants, some of them are tall enough to walk along the sea floor, and the ancient giants were so large that it's said they pulled and moved continents.

Why is that bit important? Because a ship the size of an entire island would likely need a lot more than sails buoyancy to move quickly. The ancient kingdom was pulled by the giants. They moved to different areas to rescue people and to trade so that life continued while the tide was at it's highest point.

Another random thing that supports this is the giant's vehement hatred towards Charlotte Linlin. She has Totto Land, which is supposed to be a place where all races live in harmony, but it would be a mockery of what the ancient kingdom was like, and for giants, who live about 300 years, that's only a few generations back. They would still have stories about the ancient kingdom and remember the truth.

Again, I don't think anything I predict will ever be 100% accurate, but I hope you enjoyed my rambling nonetheless.

[tangerinesgf]

yooo, could you write for Thom Ryder (or whatever his name is ) someee maybe hurt/comfort stuff. Cause I love your writings!!!,💋🙏

Tom Ryder x GN!reader

Summary: Tom Ryder is an addict. But only the person closest to him knows that.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Some fluff, Paranoia, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

A/N: Yaaayy my first Tom Ryder fic!! Tysm for your request. I'm having so much fun writing for this man. I hope you like it. Also Tom Ryder is British right? Correct me if I'm wrong here pls, his accent was so confusing to me

It was the night after Tom Ryder’s big movie premiere. Or well one of them. Another big blockbuster on his name, another couple million dollars in the bank and like every big occasion in Ryder’s life it called for a party. As his partner you have been to all the premiere's with him. From London to Paris and even Tokyo, all the way back to L.A. You were by his side through it all. The good and the bad. 

Tonight was all good. He just had a busy press tour behind him and was finally ready to unwind. He invited all of his friends and their friends to his house, or as he called it his ‘kingdom’. 

The first few hours you stuck to each other like glue, laughing dancing, ofcours a bit of flirting and kissing too. After a while you told him you were gonna go to the bathroom for a second and after some serious looks that told him that he couldn’t come with you.

When you came back Tom wasn’t in his usual spot anymore, but you didn’t really think anything of it. He was probably outside smoking weed or hanging around with his friends.

At some point during the evering you started to miss your boyfriend and started looking for him across the dancefloor, expecting to find him grinding with some random person he just met.

You’ve come to find his behaviour when high or drunk to be quite predictable. Whenever you found him dancing with another girl he’s quite genuinely confused, saying sorry over and over again, because he thought he was dancing with you. Though you couldn’t entirely blame him for it since he was high off his nuts and completely disoriented. Besides that, he was absolutely adorable while begging for your forgiveness.

Inside that asshole he protrayed himself to be was just an insecure little boy who didn’t get enough validation from his parents. 

So here you were searching his entire loft, shoving people aside left and right to find Ryder, which wasn’t nearly as easy as it appeared to be. His loft was huge with multiple bedrooms, bathrooms and just random rooms filled with whatever crazy thing Tom wanted to try this time.

As his girlfriend you were often at his place, which means you were there last week when he turned one of his rooms into a small makeshift jungle for his new Koala. You gave it 2 weeks max before animal protection would show up at his front door. 

His loft felt like an absolute madhouse everytime he held a party there, the music was deafening and the smell of weed and alcohol hung in the air. You were pretty sure Tom didn’t even know half of the people in his house right now. 

To your surprise he wasn’t shagging up with some random girl, in fact he was nowhere to be found at the party. Usually you’d stick by him during parties like this, especially when there were drugs involved. So when you couldn’t find him with his usual group of friends and he hadn’t come to find you, you knew something was wrong. 

You abandoned the party downstairs and went to find the actor upstairs where the guests weren’t allowed. The bedroom was empty, as was his second bedroom and the room he uses to practice his scenes (that particular room had a huge mirror).

“Tom? Love?” You call out in the hallway as you walk past all his movie posters. Then suddenly you stop in your tracks as you hear a voice coming from the bathroom, it sounds like Tom talking to someone, but there’s no other voice talking back. Like he’s all alone in there. 

Silently you walk over to the bathroom, the last thing you wanted to do was scare him right now. The door was open just a bit as you leaned beside it, looking through the little slit in the door. Tom was pacing the room back and forth like madman. You couldn’t exactly hear what he was saying because most of it came out hastily in a mumble. 

You decided to approach him carefully since you had no real perception of the state he was in right now. Ever so softly you knock on the bathroom door to announce your presence. At the sound Ryder’s head immediately snaps up in your direction, he looks like a deer caught in headlights with those wide eyes.

In a split second he grabs his hairbrush from the shelf above the sink and holds it in front of him like you would a knife. Ofcours you knew he wouldn’t get very far with that, but right now you just wanted to make him feel comfortable so you hold your hands up in the air to show him you mean no harm.

“Tom..” You say softly as you take a step closer to him. The beads of sweat on his forehead become apparent to you as do his frantic eyes which are constantly scanning every part of the room for threats. 

His movements are erratic as he holds the brush out in front of him and you wonder if he even reconizes you as his partner at this moment. “Stay back- I know why you’re here… I know it. Where are your friends, hm?” He raises his eyebrow at you, skeptical of your intentions. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” A frown appears on your face as he starts ranting nonsense. You were well aware of Ryder’s drug problem, but you really hated seeing him like this. The poor guy was really in a miserable state.

It had all started quite innocent, just one joint to take the edge off before a press tour or a premiere, you even did it with him sometimes. Then at parties he started to dance on the edge of safe and dangerous. Taking more and more different kinds of drugs with the excuse of ‘just experimenting’. 

In the last couple of weeks you’ve found him throwing up in the bathroom, pale as a ghost more than once. You’ve tried to offer advice but he never wants to hear it. He’s Tom Ryder. He can do whatever he wants. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. You came all the way up here to get me alone, right? So there’d be no witnesses when you kill me.” The brush is shaking in his hands and his words are quick, full of distrust towards you.

You can tell it’s bad this time. You’ve never seen him so paranoide before and it’s seriously concerning. Lately one or two hits just aren’t enough for him anymore, it’s like he’s trying to numb himself. From what you wouldn’t know, he’s not exactly open about his flaws and weaknesses. That’s vulnerability and that’s bad. 

“No I’m not-” You step closer, but he cuts you off by throwing the brush in your direction which you just barely manage to dodge. You look at him with wide eyes and before he can grab the bar of soap from the sink to throw that as well you rush over to him to grab his wrists.

“Tom, listen to me- fuck..” You mutter as he struggles against you, trying to push you off him. 

“What do you want from me?!” Ryder shouts desperately. Even after doing all those movies and action scenes he has really no idea how to fight, so most of his attempts to fight you off go nowhere. 

“It’s me, Tom. No one is trying to kill you!” You yell as you finally manage to remove the bar of soap from his hands. You quickly reach your hands up to cup his face. With closed eyes you take some deep breaths to slow down your heart rate. You weren’t exactly sober either, so you took a moment to steady yourself before looking back at him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t understand where the paranoia came from, ofcours you did. Tom Ryder is the most famous actor in the world, everyone who didn’t want to be with him, wanted to be him. Let’s just say that both of you have experienced first hand how far some people are willing to go for celebrities. 

Yet when sober Tom didn’t seem necessarily concerned about it, more annoyed or angry when another fan tried to touch or attack him. And don’t get it wrong, Tom loves the attention and validation, but he doesn’t exactly want those crazies near him.

“Hey, hey look at me, yeah? Look at me.” Your voice is demanding and his eyes immediately snap back towards yours. His sunglasses do a poor job of hiding his wide blown, red eyes. 

“You’re okay.” You gently stroke his cheek with your thumb to try and calm him down like you’ve done countless times before. “You’re okay..” You repeat in a softer tone, a small smile spread across your lips.  

“Baby?” He whispers quietly. His eyes have softened and you can feel the man you love coming back to you. 

“Mhm..” You hum softly. “No one’s going to kill you, I promise.” 

You notice Tom’s eyes starting to water a little as he realizes everything is okay and that you’re with him to keep him safe. He holds his head down in shame.  “I’m sorry..” His voice barely comes out as a whisper as he leans forwards and buries his face in your chest. 

You wrap one arm around him, the other gently stroking his messy blonde hair to comfort him. He’s always had a weak spot for you when you played with his hair. 

“And I’m sorry I tried to hit you with my hairbrush.” He mumbles again.

“I know, love..” You whisper back as you hold him close. Then without warning Tom starts sobbing into your chest, it sounds broken and helpless. Every single thought inside his head just spilt over, unable to keep it in anymore, yet also unable to actually talk about it. 

You pull him into a tight hug, leaning his head on your shoulder as you rub his back. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before and while it felt a little bit weird, it also felt good that he trusted you enough to let himself be vulnerable with you.

For now you'd just hold him, let him air his heart as long as he needs to. You can both work on your issues later. In this moment being in the comfort of each other's arms is enough.

A/N: I'm a firm believer that Tom Ryder swings both ways, but cannot hold a normal stable relationship to save his life. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this and please if you have any Tom Ryder requests send them in.

I don't have a Taglist for Tom Ryder fanfics yet, so if you wanna be on it lemme know.

[cocteaucherry]

her way

summary- you were once on top of the world, unfortunately that was taken away from you, but all of a sudden two men, the best at their sports ask for help.

tags- 18+, mentions of bruises, anxiety, broken bones, anxiety attack, ooc probably for some characters, maybe some smut (or threesome) in further chapters. figure skating (can you tell I used challengers for inspo?) gojo x reader, geto x reader, female reader

a/n- (making my monthly comeback, also thank you for 200 followers every like and follow means the universe to me! debating on a chp 1

you once were on top of the world

Doing the thing you loved every day every second, the costumes, the flair, the elegance.

Your long time senior coach, Yuki, made sure to always support you, even.. if she usually made it to rehearsal thirty minutes late.

“Yeah yeah that was great! But make sure you’re more solid off your double jump!” Yuki smirked leaning against the short wall of the skating rink.

“Weren’t you on your phone half the time?” You raised an eyebrow panting loudly as Yuki gave you a coy laugh.

“See? Stop paying attention to me and you’ll land your jumps.”

Oh how cynical it would be for you in the future.

You had officially made it to the Grand Prix finals, the world's eyes battering down your whole back, at least that’s how it felt to you.

You sat stretching your legs, the world around you invisible until you went on in approximately nine minutes and ten seconds. Your nerves were particularly bad today but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

You were so out of it you didn’t even notice the figure approaching you, all you saw were long legs in dark sweatpants.

You peered through your eyelashes to see the figure standing in front of you, snowy hair and sunglasses inside? Sheesh, how arrogant could this guy be?

“Y/N, right?” A grin appeared on his smug face as his hands slid into his pockets, “yeah? Is there something I can do for you?” You grunted standing up your eyes physically widening as you saw how tall he really was, getting a good look at his face and you began to recognize the man.

“Wait.. you look familiar..?”

His face drained of color as he cleared his throat, “Satoru Gojo, two time gold winner?” He pointed towards his face, “Figure skating Mozart on the ice rink?- wait you seriously don’t know who I am?!”

“I was kidding, MAYBE I’ve heard of you,” you chuckled and he let out a huff of frustration, “You’re good friends with.. what’s his name? Suguru Geto correct? I’ve heard he’s the Prince of Ice, huh?”

“That’s correct, he’s also fairly talented.” Satoru hummed in an almost annoyed tone? You pushed it off not thinking much of it.

“Must be hard huh? I mean being best friends in this line of business and somehow you always come out on top?” You questioned staring closely through Satoru’s glasses, you could almost clearly see the bright blue of his eyes peeking through the expensive lenses.

“Ahhh,” he grinned, adjusting his shades, “Suguru and I don’t lose our minds over a little friendly competition.”

“The Grand Prix is a friendly competition for you?” You scoffed crossing your arms and he nodded bashfully, “when you have no one to compete against it’s not really a competition.”

“Right, well I’m gonna get going soon.”

You desperately wanted to cut the conversation short but talking to him seemed to ease your nerves tremendously, “Thanks for talking with me though!” you smiled brightly getting set to walk towards the rink.

Satoru wanted to talk more but his words were caught in his throat, “I’ll cheer you o-on!” His voice fucking cracked and he wanted to slam his head against the wall.

Yuki stood nervously and annoyed at your apparent “lateness”

“Y/N! What the hell? You were supposed to be here a few minutes ago?” Her face was red with anxiety it seemed.

“I'm still here on time! Don’t worry Yuki,” you groaned and a smile appeared on her face, “I know I know, you should’ve been here though I was just talking to a certain someone you should be interested in,”

“Really? Who?” You said enthusiastically but before Yuki could start your name was called over the intercoms to get on the ice, you slid your windbreaker off revealing your light purple bedazzled costume. “I’ll tell you after, get out there and don’t fuck up!” Yuki pulled you into a quick hug before lightly pushing you into the direction you needed to go.

“Awhh, cmon Yuki!” You groaned walking your way carefully onto the ice, your mind repeating your step and jump sequences in your head.

Your legs jittered but you took deep breaths skating to your starting position.

Your routine started and you were doing great, landing your jumps, your spins were fluid and solid and then the second half was ending. Your routine was coming to a close and all you had to do was nail a double jump pretty simple right?

Then how come whenever you were in the starting position something felt off..

you were in the middle of the air getting ready to land before your ankle had twisted in the wrong direction causing you to eat absolute shit on the ice.

A loud CRACK! Resounded itself along with the searing hot pain your ankle felt as you tumbled on the ice, Oh God let this be a bad dream please God..

Hot tears poured down your face as you heard the quick loud flashes of cameras and the loud whispers of the crowd, your heartbeat sped faster and faster and you swore you were going to blackout, which is what you did.

You woke up from the blaring fluorescent lights and the steady beeps of the machines around you, your mother and father sat next to you with bated breath as your mother immediately jumped to hug you crying into your shoulder.

You groggily searched the room for Yuki only to find her in the hallway talking to the doctor, this wasn’t gonna end well.

You peered down at the large cast encasing your ankle and the bruises that crowded your leg, you wanted to cry but no tears came out.

Hours later you finally decided to turn on the TV, wanting to avoid seeing you eat shit on 4K you were instead met with a different kind of news.

Males singles winners,

Bronze- Yui Haibara

Silver- Satoru Gojo

Gold- Suguru Geto

Satoru had lost? You wondered how he felt right now, sure a small smile was on his face but he was adamant on winning.

Just like clockwork Yuki had come in holding two vases of flowers, “How you holding up?” She asked walking to the counter placing the vases down,

“‘As well as you think, everyone’s kind though.” You’ve gotten multiple concerned texts from figure skaters and fans and while you greatly appreciated it your face burned in embarrassment. How could you have messed up horribly?

“Of course they are, Goddess of the Ice,” Yuki hummed, checking the cards attached to the vases, “Well look at that, flowers from both Gojo and Geto.”

“Really? I feel honored.” You smiled but it quickly faded, “Tell me how bad it is Yuki.”

Yuki sighed leaning on the counter, “Well, your ankle is pretty fucked up.. might be time for you to look at possibly retiring.”

Your coach’s words circled in your head as you took a plane trip back to your hometown, your mother and father agreed to look after you in the meantime as you sought out your decision.

The past few days you had been in limbo, just living but no substance you even spaced out mid conversation with your best friend Utahime.

She offered you a place in her family’s shop where you could spend your hours conversing instead of just sitting around the house.

“Okay! Would you rather take care of ten newborn babies or fight a judo boxer?” Utahime asked, flipping through the channels of the front counter TV.

“We’ve played this for twenty minutes!” You groaned, placing your head in your hands, “the ten babies sound great though.”

Utahime had childishly given you a coloring book but you didn’t complain, you continued to scribble, enjoying the blissful silence with the occasional talk of the TV.

The bell of the front door opening broke you out of your silence, but before you could look up the voice seemed to give it away.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

Your eyes were brought up to see the familiar sight you were “graced” with 5 weeks ago.

“Think we could talk for a minute?”

[lizard-queen-izzy]

OK! WE'RE DOING THIS!

Everyone shut up and sit down. I'm talking about TMA. I am listening through for the first time, I'm through S1 and halfway through S2, and I already have many Thoughts. Today, we will be focusing on my evil ship thoughts, because I missed my chance when this was coming out so now I will subject you all.

I know Jon and Martin get together at some point, and yknow, that's all fine and good.

BUT I WANNA TALK ABOUT JON AND TIM, OK?

There is so much potential for something there, and they would be so incredibly messy after the S1 finale.

[I've lightly scrolled through the jontim tag, and I truly don't think there's enough of you talking about how tragic they are. Platonic or romantic, they're so so sad.]

They both worked in the research department before Jon was made Head Archivist, and even though they definitely weren't close, they were definitely friendly. My Firm Belief is that Jon was the only one who took Tim seriously despite his more lax attitude, he saw his strong work ethic and his dedication and treated him accordingly. And Tim was the only one who listened to Jon, the only one who thought he had anything to add and took his suggestions.

I believe they were hired around the same time, and once they met there was a silent understanding that they were there for eachother. It was nice to just have someone in their corner in this new environment.

When Jon got promoted to Head Archivist, he was adamant about Tim being on his team, because he knew Tim would help get the results needed. [I have a whole, how everyone got assigned to the team timeline thought out but that's not why we're here]

Tim is the only member of his team who Jon doesn't think would have written Antonio Blake's statement as a joke to scare him. Which means he trusts him the most out of all of them. Which wouldn't be as important if he showed distaste for them equally, but he regards both Tim and Sasha highly, and only really seems to have an issue with Martin at this point. So why would he trust Tim to not have written it but not Sasha? Unless he's known him the longest and has reason to put that faith in him.

AND THEIR CONVERSATION AT THE BEGINNING OF MAG 33?? You're gonna listen to that, the first time we as the audience meet Tim, and tell me you don't hear how much these two care for eachother? Even when Jon starts getting upset/loud, he calms quickly for Tim, and doesn't let himself fully yell at him. He also leaves it up to Tim to fix the mistakes, an example of him trusting Tim's judgement and work. And Tim is so calm with him! The man keeps getting worked up and starting to get loud, but Tim stays calm and let's him self correct and say what he needs to before proceeding himself. He knows Jon is stressed and has a lot on his plate. He knows these mistakes needed to be discussed with him and corrected somehow, but he's still not going to force Jon to re-record the statements if he really doesn't want to, he's willing to find another solution. And then he leaves to go work on it so Jon can get back to recording the statement.

And Tim telling Jon he doesn't understand the filing system and Jon explaining it calmly to him, admitting he doesn't really get it either but that's how it is.

You also have to see my vision for how the S1 finale effects them. A traumatic experience where they were both scarred mentally and physically in the same ways. Something that should have brought them even closer, maybe finally made them feel comfortable being proper friends outside of work. But they both react to it SO differently. And that is the beginning of their downfall. That is the beginning of the end.

Because Jon spirals. He stops trusting everyone. He pushes them all away and starts crossing boundaries. HE SPIES ON TIMS HOUSE. And he can't even calm down long enough to see why this bothers his coworkers. Why this hurts Tim.

The beginning of S2 from Tim's perspective is awful. Your first friend in this workplace is overworking himself, throwing himself back into work the second he's cleared physically well enough to go back. But he clearly hasn't moved past it, and you can't blame him for that. Everyone copes differently, but then he turns on you. He stops trusting you, starts pushing you away, starts spying on you. Can you imagine how much that hurts? To have the first person in this terrifying new job who ever put their trust in you, who ever believed in you, to turn on you just when you need them the most.

THEY ARE SO FUCKING MESSY. GOD.

Anyway. I very well may be back with more JonTim thoughts as I continue to listen. But this is what I have for you today.

[questionableratatouille00]

𝘏𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴 (𝘚𝘰 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘐 𝘊𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘍𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴)

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Happy Halloween! To celebrate the Holiday, Stark throws his annual party. But when a certain Russian spy shows up in a scandalous costume, only chaos may ensue.

Warnings: Halloween? Cursing, drinking, alcohol, more descriptive kissing? Let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

You took a deep breath, adding your final touches of green to your face. You were a zombie this year. It was basic, sure, but easy. Wear some dirt-stained clothes and add green splotches to your face. Maybe draw a bite mark on your neck or something if you’re extra. Which, of course, you were.

You walked out of your room and down the halls of the Compound, using the loud sounds of music playing and guests talking as a guide to where the party was. It was Tony’s annual Halloween party, and all of the Avengers were required to attend.

Hence why you were even there.

You bit your lip anxiously, standing awkwardly in the corner of the room, near the door to some hallway. Sure, you could identify every one of your friends in the large room, but they were all deep in conversations with other people. And you weren't gonna drag any of them away from that, you weren't an asshole.

A tap on your shoulder zapped you from your thoughts. You turned to look at the culprit, eyes wide.

"Sorry," she chuckled. "Did I scare you?"

"Natasha." You said aloud, you know, like an idiot. "No. Uh--no. I'm..I'm alright, don't--don't worry."

She laughed again at that. “Well, nice costume.”

“Thanks. I like yours.”

“I went a little basic this year. Clint and I went as Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable last year, so I wanted to do something a little more well known this year.” She explained.

“A..devil?”

She flashed you a smile, doing a small spin. Her short and sparkly red dress—paired with fishnet tights and bright red high heels and a devil horn headband—made her look great.

“Correct.” She grinned. “What do you think?”

“It looks great.” You look great.

“Glad you think so. Did you see Tony? Already hammered.”

“Sounds about right. I still can’t believe Sam and Clint managed to get Steve and Bucky to go as the Teletubbies with them.” You chuckled.

“They look good, though.” Nat shrugged. Then she gave you a devilish grin. “You wanna do something..wicked?”

“Was that meant to be a Halloween joke?”

“Maybe.” She bit her lip. “So..you in?”

“Hell yeah I am.” You beamed.

“Well…we’re standing under the pumpkin.” She said, pointing up with her finger.

“Huh?” You craned your neck back to look up, and sure enough, there was a small pumpkin—most likely made of plastic—hanging from a string off the doorframe.

“Like mistletoe. But Halloween.” She smiled softly, staring into your eyes.

“What..do we do?”

“Kiss me, Y/n.” She leaned in, and so did you.

You kissed her softly, as she rested her hands on your shoulders, your hands gliding down to her hips. You pulled her closer, and she didn’t pull away, the inner part of her elbow against the back of your neck.

She guided you through the doorway and into the hall, never breaking your kiss. She pushed you against the wall, her lips and tongue moving in a rhythm that you desperately wanted to remember.

“Fuck,” you whispered against her lips, and she pressed her forehead to yours.

“Trick or treat,” she whispered, letting out a breathy laugh.

You kissed her again. “Treat,” you chuckled.

She led you back to her room.

Later, in the late hours of the night, or perhaps the early hours of the morning, she pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Though the words were never spoken aloud, you knew what her expression meant. I love you.

“Happy Halloween, Y/n.” She mumbled.

“Happy Halloween.”

A/N: trying out putting the note at the bottom lmao. Happy Halloween everybody! This is a bit shorter (and less structured) than I would’ve liked, but life has been busy. I hope you have a wonderful Halloween, and thank you to everyone who voted on the poll! 💕

beautiful dividers made by the lovely @saradika

[20230323deactivated]

jump beyond the limit.

PROMPT. — Becoming a actor and influencor is a tough challenge mentally and physically. Though with someones little help, Niege Leblanche continued and has now become a renowned actor.

characters. niege leblanche x male reader

warnings. none.

an. republish of my old fic, changed some few things but not really major things.

tags. @moxxbox @rayisalive @la-lolita

Being an actor and a influencer, neige leblanche knows that it wasn't always smiles and laughter, before he all got his fame he was just a simple wannabe actor who wanted to rise to the top, the road to it was bumpy but he didn't forget that day.

That day where that simple smile and a handkerchief was given to him, it was rather a simple act of kindness but for niege it was none of that, every bit of those interactions is everything for him.

The male gripped the simple white handkerchief that he seemed to be looking adoringly for quite a few minutes, a blush coating his cheeks as he felt his heart warm up.

“Neige leblanche on standby," the sudden voice made the male head back to reality as he scramble to hide the handkerchief as if it was a Important file, "y- yes!"

"Please wait for the cue," the staffs informed the boy which he happily nodded, "understood," putting his hand on his heart he controlled his breathing as he calmed down his pounding heart, "on 3... 2.. 1, go,"

With the signal, he came walking down the spotlight with a bright and cute smile waving towards the audience, "and we welcome to our morning talk show!" the audiences applauded as they all cheered his name.

He walked down the smooth floor as he sat on the sofas, he giggled lightly as he looked towards the male host, “what a glamorous entrance you made, mister leblanche," he complimented as neige bashfully giggled, "oh I'm sure it was nothing and calling me neige is fine," giving the male host a polite smile the host smiled back, "well then, how are you this morning neige?"

"Well I'm great, how about you?"

"I’'m doing quite fine thank you niege, how do you feel about this interview?"

"Well..." he gave an awkward chuckle to the host, "I'm quite nervous if I'm being honest but I swear I'll answer your questions with the best I can," the male smiled as he started sparkling, the crowd coo'd at how adorable he acted as the host couldn't smile at this.

"Okay that’s adorable, as I was saying, I'm just gonna go straight to the point here, mister leblanche-“ before the host could even continue neige corrected him, "neige," making the host giggle at this, "apologies, neige, is it hard being an actor? why?"

Taking a deep thought, neige closed his eyes, opening it he saw the crowd look at him in anticipation, "well... it is hard, with the rough schedules I have but can I tell you a story?" this piqued the host interest, they smiled as he looked towards the famous actor, "by any means go ahead,"

"Before I was famous, it was hard too. I did my best on everything but one day I just broke down because everything was way too much on my plate but there was this one person, he was so kind to me..."

Neige sniffles rang throughout the lonely park, after the shoot he excused himself for a simple walk though he knew well that walking isn't the only thing he's gonna do, everything was way too much now, he needs someone's help, he truly did but then again he's afraid, afraid he'll burden someone.

Everything was too much, way too much for him, "tears doesn't suit your face at all," hearing someone’s voice, he immediately tried to stop the flowing tears in his cheeks but it was fruitless as it was like a endless waterfall, looking towards the voice, there he saw a boy with a deadpan face, taking out a white handkerchief out of his pocket, the male started to wipe down his tears.

"I'm sure on whatever your going through right now will get better, thats why don't give up, give everything you've got, everything will be okay," taking niege's hand he placed the white handkerchief, "you can have this, so that you can wipe away your tears everytime you feel down, though do know that everything will be alright, well then I'll be going now,"

Neige looked dazed, his heart warmed up as his cheeks starts to flush as his heart rate increased, though as he was in daze he failed to notice the male already walking away from him, he immediately lost his trance as he yelled rather abruptly, "WAIT A MINUTE!”

This cost the male to stop his walk as he looked back at neige, raising his brows. The male looked confused as he look at neige's flush face, "what's your name?" niege questioned as the stranger pointed at himself asking a rhetorical question to the raven haired boy, "me?" neige nodded, "yes,"

"Y/n l/n, though calling me y/n just fine, I'd better get going now or else I'll be late, see you mister," with that y/n walked away before neige could even introduce himself, now alone, he looked at the handkerchief as he smiled, blush coating his cheeks, it was like he was his knight, 'y/n' he thought of the males name, giggling he said it again but aloud, "y/n.." looking fondly at the handkerchief he neatly put it inside his pockets.

As he walked towards his shoot again, in a more uplifting mood as his heart beat rather rapidly but he loved it either way.

“He was like a knight for me... he was so kind that I couldn't help but fall inlove thats why I'm still here today! now famous, but I'm determined to find him! so that I can tell him all about my feelings!" the crowd cooed at this lovely story the male told, even the host couldn't help but cooe at this.

"Well thats certainly a story right out of a fairytale, I'd rather say that is adorable," neige giggled in a rather bashful manner as blush coated his cheeks, "why thank you!"

In a midst through all of this, there, y/n looked through his study notes as he suddenly felt his nose running furrowing his brows he suddenly sneeze as he looked around his room, frown forming in his face, "is someone talking bad about me?" he wondered but shrugged it off as he continued his studies.

[vellaphoria]

14. Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind?

6. Show us a bit of a WIP!

👀👀

3. NoTP?

Thanks for the ask!!! <3 I'm gonna do this out of order so that the fic excerpt can go beneath the cut 14. Ironically, DickTim XD When I first started in this fandom I was strictly in the Dick & Tim tag. This was at a point where there just wasn't very much there though, so eventually I ran out of content and tripped face-first into DickTim. Then I ran out of content in that tag and decided that the only way to stay sane was to learn how to write more of what I wanted to read

3. That's a bit of a tough one for DC, since I tend to just be uninterested in most of the ships. Though I personally have a strong aversion towards Joker x Harley (or whatever the ship name is). It's just not my thing :P 6. An excerpt from the Recursion epilogue/followup that I'm gonna finish someday:

Most of the equipment isn’t salvageable. And what is salvageable isn’t exactly transportable.

All in all, he leaves the warehouse with a flash drive full of blueprints, his Red Robin gear, his bike, and the bag he’s been living out of for longer than he really wants to think about. 

Still, there’s an exhilaration to traveling light, taking barely anything with him as his motorcycle speeds down semi-empty streets. The neon drenched backdrop of Gotham flies past him in a blur. He takes each turn too fast. He feels alive. 

At the junction that would take him to the outskirts of the city and Wayne Manor, he nearly takes a wrong turn, forgetting for a moment that Dick hasn’t set up shop there for a long while now. Some backtracking later and he finds the correct turn-off, bringing his bike down into the tunnels that run beneath the city. 

When he finally pulls into what serves as the Bunker’s garage, Dick is already waiting for him. He lurks at the edge of the room, looking uncertain about trying to approach as Tim removes his helmet and shoulders his bag.

He’d stuck to civilian clothes on the way here; jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and a beat-up leather jacket to keep out the wind as he rode.

Dick seems to have had the same idea. The sweatpants and threadbare t-shirt suggest that he came straight down from the penthouse. 

It feels strange to see each other without layers of kevlar and nomex between them. At least when it's this them, here and now.

In the present, he hasn't seen Dick look so casual since before Batman's disappearance became well known and Gotham became a living hell. In those days, they were all but living in their suits, ready to go at a moment's notice. 

Tim is pretty sure that he's been going at nearly that pace ever since. And, from the dark circles beneath his eyes, he suspects that Dick has as well. Back on that rooftop, he hadn't had enough emotional distance from the situation to see how Dick looks just as exhausted as Tim feels.

He gets off the bike, stashing it in an open spot. It isn't until he removes his bag from the back of the bike that Dick approaches.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, quietly. When he smiles, it's faint, and a little sad.

“You too," Tim says.

He steps closer, not entirely sure what he's intending to do. 

Dick doesn't seem to know either. But he opens his arms, just a bit, and-

The hug is a careful, fragile thing. Threaded through with the knowledge that a single wrong move could shatter them. Still, when he tries to pull back, the arms around him tighten as Dick keeps him pressed against his chest. 

Tim lets him. It feels good to be close. To have Dicks’ hands on him, despite the context. 

There are some nights when he wants to rage at him, throwing objects and insults across the room to try and find some way to make everything make sense. But then there are the nights when all he wants is this: to be wrapped in Dick’s arms, feeling nothing but the strength of his muscles and warmth of his skin. 

Tim gives in, leaning into it, pressing his own hands into Dick’s back. 

There’s a kiss against his forehead, then his temple.

“I missed you,” Dick says, against his ear. 

“Missed you too,” Tim whispers back. 

When they finally pull apart, it almost feels like it's too soon. His body aches with the phantom feeling of being held.

The deceptively simple solution here would be to take Dick's hand and lead him upstairs. It would be so easy to say that he doesn't want to be alone tonight, to ask Dick for his company and for whatever else he'd be willing to give.

Dick can be very giving when he's trying to make something up to someone.

But… no.

Tim said they would talk about this, and he doesn't quite trust himself to let himself have this again without first untangling the mess in which they've caught themselves. 

So he stays content with the way that Dick’s hand cups his face, lingering a moment before he turns to lead Tim further into the Bunker. 

He saw the blueprints back when Bruce was first having the place built, but he never saw the finished product. It looks very efficient. While the Bat Cave was adapted to fit the space, The Bunker was clearly built from the ground up with a vigilante operation in mind. Everything fits together like clockwork, with some notable exceptions.

There are strategically placed empty spaces. They pass by two work benches full of half-finished projects and a third that’s entirely empty. A row of storage lockers is meticulously labeled, with the exception of the one to the right of the one labeled for Dick’s personal use. 

When he glances at Dick, it’s clear that he’s very purposely not looking at any of them. Trying to not call attention to it. 

The implication of it all makes something in Tim ache a little. For all that his reasons for leaving were justified…

They have a lot to talk about. (asks are from this post)

[eveandtheturtles]

Donnie and a mermaid

Idk, I wanted a cute Little Mermaid-esque story, half way through the direction kind of derailed? Originally I was going to make it more violent and creepy but in the end that changed as well. Just weird shit going down in my brain. I don't think I like it but I'm still gonna post it, so.... Enjoy?

Uuuh, also I drew the mermaid, she's at the bottom of the fic.

Rating: Uh, I'll give it a strong T? Like be wary of the warning below but- yeah?

Warning: mind control.

tagging: @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @pheradream15 @dilucsflame33 @sharpwindow

What happened was just pure luck. They were patrolling the harbor. Making sure no Foot Clan wannabes were trying to move in.

The night was quiet though. It seemed no serious crime was going to happen that night. Donnie was somewhat relieved. He had some games and a project to get back to.

Suddenly they all heard a high pitched cry. It was not human though. If Donnie was to guess what it was it was closer to a whale.

"What was that?" Leo was immediately alerted.

"I think some whale got beached. I'll go check it out and alert the correct authorities," Donnie replied calmly.

"Alright, let us know if it's anything more serious," Leo agreed. "We'll probably be slowly heading out once you get back. The area looks clear."

Donnie nodded and jumped from a cargo container to cargo container trying to pin point the spot the poor animal was. It let out one more cry for help and that helped him finally find it.

But when he got there it wasn't a whale he saw. Humanoid from waist up and fish from waist down, barely reaching 5 feet in total lenght. It was green in colour from the top of its bald head to the tip of its tail. Gills on its neck and over the ribcage. Wiry arms with webbed hands, yellow eyes and sharp teeth. The tail could belong to a leopard shark species. It was beautiful in a way. There was a spear sticking out of it and the creature was wrapped in a fishing net.

"A mermaid," he whispered.

It's- her? His? Pointy, fin like ears twitched and the mermaid (or merman) looked up at him and hissed in warning, baring their teeth.

"It's okay, it's okay," Donnie said calmly as he carefully walked closer. He had his arms up. No weapon in sight. He hoped that it was universal enough of a sign that he meant no harm. "I want to help you." He hoped they knew human speech.

The mer-creature blinked slowly, confused with what they were seeing. They knew humans but this? This was new.

Donnie noted the nictitating membrane. Fascinating. Anyway. Task at hand. He decided to start first with the spear. The fishing net restraining them was probably better left on for now.

"I'm going to break this, okay?" He said out loud for the merperson to understand.

They tilted their head a little. They saw the hands reaching to the spear and the questioning expression on the strange land creature's face. They nodded. It still didn't make the pain less blinding when the turtle broke the shaft off.

The mer cried out and trashed a little, snapping it's jaw in Donnie's direction. He jumped back in time though. The mer creature made keening noises and his heart was breaking just a little for it. Them.

"It's alright," he tried to reach to them and comfort them.

She calmed down, shaking a little. She blinked slowly. He was helping her, he seemed sturdy and... kind. She opened her mouth and a song flew out of it. A sweet melody that soothed his mind.

He smiled. "Wow, that's magical..." He moved closer to her, entrance by the music.

Suddenly, Donnie's comm went off.

"Donnie, is everything all right over there, you have been gone for a while now!" Leo's worried voice broke through the tense silence.

The purple terrapin jumped up. He fumbled with the intercom, almost dropping it. "Yeah! Everything is fine! I'm good. I ah- am doing a bit of a rescue mission by myself," he replied.

"With a whale? Do you need help?"

"No, no! You don't have to! I got it! It's like a shark of sorts. Much smaller. It's just tied up on nets," he started explaining, trying to keep his brothers away. "You all should go home. I got this." He heard himself say.

Weird. He didn't want anyone else to know about them... Her. He looked at the mermaid. She was humming now, the music just for him. He knew it. It was so beautiful.

"I'll free you now," he said.

The mermaid stilled for him and he cut all the ropes. Once her binds were gone she rubbed her wrists. She looked at him, her big, fully yellow eyes drew him further in. There was a connection between them, he could feel it. Such a wonderful being she was.

He took her cold, webbed hands and marvelled at how smooth and soft they were. How small and perfect they were in his. "You're going to be safe", he assured her, "I'll protect you."

She hummed that beautiful sound again and he swore he couldn't be happier.

The next day Leo did a head count and was down one. He wasn't too concerned as Donnie tended to oversleep for various reasons (experiments, streams, working on gadgets). That was until he saw that neither the bed or the spot in the lab were occupied by the snoring purple turtle.

"Have you guys seen Donnie?" He turned to Mikey and Raph.

"Yeah, he was here for like five seconds," Mikey said, doing kickflips midair. "Grabbed a whole bunch of eggs and stuff from his lab. Said something about shark and then left."

"The nerd gonna open a full blown marine rescue at this point," Raph chortled. "I bet he's gonna install an acquarium right in the middle of the lair."

"Eugh, he better not," Leo sighed and pinched the bridge between his eyes. He let go of it now. Later he would come to regret that.

He didn't see Donnie for the next three days. Their dad was getting concerned. Leo expected this shit to happen with Raph or Mikey but Donnie? Logic driven Donnie? Like yeah even if he'd pull crazy shit (like jump out of an airplane with no shoot) he always calculated all the risks. His younger brother would never rush to things unprepared...

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Raph's yelling got him out of a morbid mood and his meditation.

"We all have been worried sick and you come back looking like a fucking ghost!!" Raph continued yelling.

Leo, with his heart in his throat went to see what the ruckus was about, although he already knew.

"Donnie," he said, relieved but also concerned and angry at the same time. "Where have you been? You turned off your locator."

"I'm fine," the tall terrapin mumbled.

Raph wasn't joking that Donnie looked like a ghost. He seemed exhausted, barely holding on his feet.

"I need to go back," he stumbled towards the kitchen. "Just get supplies," he droned out the words.

He looked sick, almost delirious. "I need to get back to her..."

"Her?"

"The fuck you do!" Raph placed his heavy hand on Donnie's shoulder trying to stop him but Donnie easily flipped him over on his back and knocked his lights out.

"Donnie-" Leo tried to say something but the cattleprod right in front of his face stopped him.

"I have to go back," Donnie repeated. "She needs me."

"Okay, okay." Leo raised his arms up. Something was so very wrong with Donnie. They needed to help him out. "You will go back. We just want to help, we are brothers. We help each other. That's what family does, remember?" He spoke softly trying to her his brother to calm down.

It was a wonder how did Donnie even got strenght to fight off Raph, while his arms trembled under the weight of his bō staff.

The purple brother hesitated. Okay, he was getting to him.

"You can trust us," Leo continued. The cattleprod was lowered. The eldest sighed relieved. "We're out of eggs so I'll call April and we can go all with you, okay?" Leo was talking as if to a toddler. Or Mikey. What a day.

He was lying though, they did stock up on the eggs when Donnie basically took everything with him. But if he could get Donnie to sit down and maybe nap a little maybe they could get some common sense and information out of him.

"I can't leave her..." Donnie's eyes watered up. "She's alone without me. What if something hurts her! I have to go back!" He spun on his heel, panic in his voice rising.

"Hey, hey, Donnie, Donnie!" Leo jumped to block his path but Donnie immediately jabbed him in his throat. "Donnie!" Leo choked and coughed. Damn, that was annoying. "It's broad daylight! Humans will see you." He managed to still grab him by the wrist.

"I don't care Leo! She is singing... I just have to go." Donnie tried to escape.

Who the fuck- Leo was so pissed off at whoever did this to his lil bro.

Unfortunately for Leo, Donnie had his bō staff, while he himself had nothing but his bare hands. He tried to find an opening in his brainwashed brother's defense but this was still Donnie. It was very hard and it seemed the Fearless Leader might lose.

Suddenly, something flew down and Donnie was knocked out unconscious.

"10 points to Michealangelo, whoohoo!!" Mikey spun around victoriously.

"Good job, Mikey," Leo praised him catching his breath. "Now help me tie him up."

Donnie woke up later with a splitting headache. When he tried to reach his hands up to cradle his poor noggin he found out he was tied up.

"What..." He whispered confused. Everything was so blurry and painful.

"Hey there genius."

Donnie looked up. April. She was standing in front of him holding a glass of water.

"Here, drink some. You look dehydrated," she said offering him the drink with a straw in.

The sight of it made him realize just how much of an Arizona desert was his mouth. That first sip had him almost moan in relief. He never knew water could taste so good.

April waited until he drank at least a half of the glass and took a break to catch his breath. "What do you remember so far?" She asked.

"I- ah," his browridge furrowed as he tried to recall what the fuck was going on. "The last thing I remember was... The docks. There was this animal," the last word he said almost like a question. A vague shape was forming in his mind. "A shark..."

Something was trying to break at the front of his mind. Something important. Something....

"It... She- she was hurt.." Suddenly everything hit him like a ton of bricks. "She needs me. I- I need to go!" He started fighting against the binds.

"Donnie, Donnie!" She tried to call back to him but the look he gave her was nearly feral. So she did the only thing she could. She slapped him. "Stay with me!" She commanded him.

There was a shock on his face as he struggled to keep his mind clear. Panic was rising in him and the irrational need to leave was trying to get a hold of him again.

"April... I- I can't-"

"Tell me, what is happening with you? Who is 'she'?." She tried to get as much information as she could while he was still aware.

"A mermaid," he blurted out. "There's a mermaid. She's hurt. I wanted to help." He spoke quickly but it was clear he was slipping again. "She needs me."

A mermaid? What? Then again she was talking to a mutated turtle... "I know," April said cradling his face between her hands. "I'll help you." She promised. "But I want to go with you, okay?"

He was reluctant and she didn't know how long it will take for him to listen to her. So she untied him. He almost raced down the corridors but at least he was going to where she usually was parking her car.

When Leo saw them leave the room they stashed Donnie in April just waved at him. There was no time and this had to be dealt with immediately.

She let Donnie drive, while she prepared to meet the Hitchcock's version of Ariel. She googled mermaids trying to find something useful. Nothing but she saw reference to sirens and that gave her a clue. These bird like creatures would sing and drive men to jump into the ocean. Not very Little Mermaid friendly. Apparently only way to survive a meeting with them was to stuff your ears with wax.

April didn't have wax but she had stoppers. One useful thing coming from Casey's snoring.

"We're here," Donnie said. April quickly got the stoppers into her ears, hoping they would somewhat protect her and followed the terrapin out of the car.

The walk to the cave the mermaid was wasn't easy. A lot of rocks, tricky passage and broken concrete and a lot of water. April had to waddle in knee deep water, following Donnie who seemed to be on autopilot.

"She's here," he said softly, full of awe as they entered. April barely could hear him. "...Stay back," he added as if just remembering she was there too.

The cave was dark with just enough light coming through the entrance. There still was water in there but much more shallow, with few dry spots here and there.

"Holy Shit," April breathed out as the creature came into view. It looked nothing like the Disney certified being. Petite but definitely inhuman. Bald, in a wilted green colour, with markings on her body. No seashells on the androgynous torso. No singing crabs either.

April watched as Donnie knelt next to the mermaid, stroking her face. She chirped happily nuzzling his hand.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get you food," he whispered to her apologetically. "April," he called to her turning his head, "do you have food?"

The reporter was transfixed by the almost alien being, she barely missed the yell. It was so strange. The mermaid didn't seem hostile at all. Seemed young, but maybe it was due to her size. She hid behind Donnie as much as she could. April noted the bandages on the tail.

"I have a half a hot dog with me," she offered and pulled her uneaten lunch.

The mermaid looked at her warily but hungrily. Donnie took the food and handed it to her. She snatched it quickly, devouring it rather than simply eating.

In the meantime, Donnie went on to change the bandages on the tail and April winced. It was healing but the scarring would remain for the rest of the aquatic being's life.

April sat on a rock, closer to the entrance. She observed everything and realized the mermaid wasn't probably even aware she was harming Donnie. She seemed to have grown attached to him. She would follow Donnie with her eyes, want him close to her.

It only made April reel in disgust all the more considering that the responses from him were result of some strange mind control. It must have been the tune every now and then the mermaid would hum. It gave April headache.

Finally, the human stood up and walked up to the creature.

The sudden movement startled her, prompting Donnie to stand between them with his bō staff at the ready.

April tilted her head to look at the mermaid.

"I just want to talk with you," she told her.

A calming chirp and Donnie stepped to the side.

"Hi," April said. "I'm April." She put on her friendlies 'reporter' voice on. "I have never met a mermaid before."

The mermaid frowned. She didn't seem like trusting her a lot. April couldn't blame her for that considering the wound in her tail.

"I'm kind of Donnie's big sister," she told her. "Do you understand that? Sister? Family?"

A feeling of understanding washed over her. Ah, so that was how the mermaid was sentient and could communicate. Even if it was a bit dubious. The mind control must have been a form of self defense and probably a hunting method.

"Do you like Donnie?"

The mermaid looked at the turtle and a feeling of fondness reached April.

"That's what I thought," the human sighed. "You need to stop controlling him."

Alarm and fear.

April shook her head. "He offered his help freely did he?"

This time it was a nod.

"Why did you control him then?"

Frustration, uncertainty, pain, fear.

Ah. There was one more thing April was wondering about (there were more but those weren't urgent). "Can you read our emotions as well? Or thoughts?"

A negative headshake. So there was that. April sighed. Time to get to the main issue.

"You are hurting him, he needs his family, he needs rest. We can all help you better if you just let us. I know trust must be hard to come by but Donnie and his brothers protect people. I don't think they will hurt you if I explain everything and if you release Donnie."

The mermaid averted her eyes and was clearly thinking over what April said. She was obviously still on her guard but remained non hostile.

Finally she curled up in a ball, as if hiding and April a loud sound of a turtle collapsing to the ground. She turned around and Donnie was leaning heavily over the wall. His stomach grumbled loudly.

He blinked confused looking around. "April?"

April sighed with a smile. A victory.

It wasn't a surprise later that Donnie avoided the mermaid afterwards. They had her transported to the lair and she promised to not try anything. They all were wary of one another. Once everyone relaxed enough to realize no one meant anyone harm they started to try and get to know each other. Even started learning alphabet to communicate with them with more than just emotions. She was a surprisingly quick study and soon she was able to communicate with them through a whiteboard. They managed to even get a name for the being - Kara. She was very playful. Splashing water as pranks, swindling food from Mikey, and even trying to play shogi with Splinter. But every time someone walked in and it wasn't Donatello she looked disappointed and sad. She was recovering fast with proper care and was expected to be fully healed in two weeks.

April enjoyed coming over to talk with her. Kara liked telling April about her life in the ocean. The circumstances that got her to New York all the way from California. She wasn't going back there any time soon. She wanted to explore first.

Two days before her release Donnie finally came to visit her. At first he merely stood at the entrance to the room her tub was in. Then it seemed like he was about to leave, having changed his mind. She looked at him from over the rim of the tub. She didn't want him to leave.

"Ah!" She called. It was as far as she could go for spoken words. The whiteboard as in her hands and he paused. "I'm sorry." She wrote. "Do you hate me?"

"I... don't hate you." He walked up closer. "I wish you didn't force me to help you."

She nodded and tapped 'I'm sorry'. She felt like she might need it a lot. "I won't do it again."

"I know," he sighed.

"I'll bring you lots of fish," she offered and he snorted.

"Don't like fish, but thanks I guess."

She lowered herself into the water blowing guilty bubbles.

"You're doing the emotional bluetooth again," he said and the feelings stopped. "If it helps, I'm not angry at you either, it's not easy being around who manipulated your will like that. Do you understand?"

She looked like she wanted to understand and it was a start.

"Did April tell you about the concept of starting again?" He asked and she nodded.

He took a deep breath in. "My name is Donatello, Donnie for short," he offered her his hand.

Kara quickly recalled this human custom and extended her own hand. "Kara," she wrote then on the board. "Nice to meet you."

It was a better start.

Bonus!!

I drew her.

[itjazzbicch]

The Fashion Show

Pairing:  Matt Jackson x Fem Reader 

Summary: The reader loves her friends Matt, Nick, and Brandon, but cannot stand how they always want to go shoe shopping. Refusing to tolerate it, she heads off on her own to shop, but Matt volunteers to tag along, showing her that he has a sense of fashion, and certain feelings for her…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Public Sex, unprotected sex, mirror)

Requested by: No One (But I hope you all enjoy it!) 

Word Count: 1.3k 

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic  @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpall@damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart 

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:   

"You three have gone to literally every shoe store there is in here! Can I go do my shopping now?!"

Matt, Nick, and Brandon have a serious issue when it comes to sneakers. Feels like hours and hours passed in this huge mall with him taking their time to go to damn near any store that sold sneakers.

"But wait there's another one there!" Brandon called out, jumping at Matt's snap:

"Shut up, Brandon!"

"Whatever, I'll just go alone," My head shook, beginning to walk away, till Matt took my hand, telling Nick and Brandon:

"She's right. Go on ahead and look at shoes, I'm gonna go with her."

Matt always knew how to put a smile on my face, squeezing my hand and skipping along, "So, where are we going?"

Heading up the escalator. I pointed to a fancy-dress store, giggling:

"And if I can suffer through all your shoe shopping, you can handle some dresses."

"Okay fine," Matt pretended to be disgusted, but while going through the store, he was actually picking out things I liked!

There were some sun dresses I liked, got a few that gave me sexy feels, and since I had to suffer, I made Matt carry around all of my things, then dragged him to the dressing room. It was nice to have one big room, a divider for dressing, and a nice chair in the corner.

"Okay, organize those and hang them up for me," I commanded, hanging up my purse and going behind the divider.

"Yes, your highness," Matt listened, hanging up the dresses next to the divider, sitting back down, but looking as I asked:

"You going to help me choose?"

"You want my opinion?" He double-checked, sitting back with a smile. "Sure! I'm the only one with good taste after all."

"Actually," I corrected, laughing and taking the first dress, "That would be me."

Even though we were joking, as we started going through the dresses, Matt showed that he knew me so well, narrowing it down to three dresses, one I still had to try on, the last one being the one Matt picked out himself.

Looking in the mirror while putting it on, it said a lot. There was a deep V-Neck that showed off my breasts a little, hugged every curve, and had ruffles toward the bottom a bit and it was very cute, but it made my brain wander.

"Last one, Matty," I smiled, strutting out and posing, smiling more when he looked up and down, still in his seat and observing every little detail, "So, what are we thinking?"

"Just," Matt tilted his head, motioning his finger, "Do a little spin for me?"

Nodding, I got on my tiptoes, spinning for him and giggling, "I really like this one, Matt. You really do have good taste."

"Oh, I do," He smirked, motioning for me, "Make sure you can really move in it before you buy it." 

"Hmm," I hummed, sitting on his lap and crossing my legs, "Not like I'll be wrestling in it or anything. So, it's good."

"Hey, you never know. Wrestling is a one-of-a-kind sport," He tried making small talk, but was looking down at my ass sitting right on top of his cock, biting his lip at my hips swirling a little:

"You're right, but I could kick someone's ass in this if I really had to."

"Your hips sure can move in it," He whispered, not paying attention and getting lost in thought.

"Oh, you like that?" I giggled, laughing more when he looked up with a bit of surprise, but this wasn't our first-time flirting, so he played it off, being honest and taking a step further:

"Sure do."

A slight slap on my ass really made me feel a certain way, the heat in my legs growing like fire when his hands slithered up to my hips, rocking me back against his hard-on, looking up my dress and into my eyes with a devilish smile.

"I see why you picked out this dress now," I turned around in his lap slowly, palming him with one hand, the other curling a piece of his hair, "You wanted to see your crush in a sexy dress hm?"

"Wasn't passing up the opportunity," He admitted, taking me by the chin and kissing me softly, the dirty passion in them showing how long it's been buried inside of him.

"Keep turning me on and we're gonna have to go to the car or something," I whispered between kisses, tongue dancing with his, till he bit my lower lip:

"We don't have to go anywhere. Just take your panties off."

"Matt," I looked laughing, "We're in the store and I'm still in this dress."

"You're gonna buy it," He shrugged, "And if you get too loud, I'll just cover your mouth or something."

He had me rolling, needing to get the laughter out, but we both had devilish sides, mine kicking back when I shrugged too, grabbing him to kiss:

"Fuck it. Let's do it."

Standing up while still kissing, I kicked my panties off, Matt ripping open his button-up and undoing his pants, then plopped back down, fixing the dress so it was above my hips, turning my back to him, and sitting me over his lap and on his cock softly.

"I liked the feeling of you sitting on my dick," He snickered, watching in the mirror across from us how I had to take my time sitting on his cock, already fighting moans.

Once I was settled, I closed my eyes with a smile and hummed to make up for missing out on moans, looking back when he tapped my ass, smiling:

"Wanna move those hips again?"

"Like this?" I played, swirling them nice and slow while I fixed my legs:

"Oh yeah, that's even better," He watched them circle and ride, holding onto my hip, finding my gaze when he noticed a shift in my body.

"How about this?" I smirked, picking myself up and leaning forward a little, then falling back down onto every inch, bouncing my ass off his hips and going faster every time I picked myself up.

"You are-" He went to say something, but bit his lip; I think he was fighting some noise of his own, because he had this determination in his eyes, taking a handful of my hair and yanking me back onto his cock faster than I could move, earning a moan from me.

I probably looked stupid from all the faces I was making, about biting my lip off so I wouldn't scream like I wanted and then get arrested in the store. Taking his knees in each hand, I squeezed hard and dug my nails in, his tip smacking my sweet spot so hard that it made me jump a little.

In the mirror, he was so proud, able to let his lip go and mess with me:

"Struggling?"

"Fuck you, Matt," I whispered, looking to see my breasts out of the dress which made him go harder, "You know I'm about to cum."

"I can tell," He huffed, sitting up a little and pulling me back so he could whisper in my ear, "Cum all over my dick, come on."

Did he mention covering my mouth earlier? I did it for him and he took the hint, covering with both hands and even threw his hips up too, getting me closer and muffling my moans and cries, the tightness and friction already too much, and when his tip smack my sweet spot one more time?

I was a mess, slicking my thighs and his too, about falling and pushing his hands away so I could breathe properly, whining softly at how hollow I felt when he pulled out of me, falling back into the seat with a huff.

"Shit, I might need new clothes," Matt chuckled softly, and so, I took the chance to joke:

"You do with the way you show up to Dynamite sometimes."

"It's like that?" He laughed, trying to grow serious though when he pulled me back onto him, growling, "Remember that when you want some more of this." 

[magicalara]

The Story of Grelle the Reaper: A review by yours truly prt 3

Hello hello my lovely theorists (totally didn't steal that from matpat, I'm Em Gem)! Welcome to part 3 of my analyzation of The Story of Grelle the Reaper by the lovely and amazing @eemoo1o-animoo. If you haven't seen parts 1 and 2 where I go over the prelude and chapter 1, you can go here for the prelude and here for chapter 1! Fair warning, they're a mess. Even this is kinda a mess, but it's okay, we get through it.

I have been messaging with Ell throughout the majority of my analyzations so keep in mind that even in my works there are some little hints here and there, though nothing too groundbreaking. I am a reader myself so I don't know nor would want to know the whole story lol.

Do keep the trigger warnings for the story in its tags in mind, Section 2 deals with some heavy stuff from my own personal life and just with Grell/e in general, though I explain this more in the precursory paragraph to that section so you are warned beforehand. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 is out, it’s great, it hits me in the feelings so much and is just all around amazing. If you haven’t read it, go do so first because while I will still go though this analysis like I did previously where it’s side-by-side, the chapter needs to be read and soaked in first. There’s heavy ideals here, especially at the end so take the time to go through and read the chapter on its own and then come back over here. …You read it? Good, alright let’s get this show on the road then!

So this chapter is 6k words worth of happiness until it gets worse and isn’t happy anymore and then I start to tear up because Ell is mean /j. There isn’t really weather to comment on at the start here so I’m gonna take this time to correct myself on some things from my Chapter 1 analysis, specifically the pigs and hands.

So for Chapter 1, there’s a whole part where I talk about what pig’s blood means and I was completely wrong. So I’m gonna correct it now. In the Book of Circus episode that Ell referred me to, I overlooked Grelle calling Beast an “ugly old sow” as just a one-off thing when really that’s what I should have focused on. Calling a woman a “sow” is an insult and so when the word “sow” is used, it’s supposed to refer to an actual woman, not an actual pig. I think too literally sometimes and it leads to my demise and the destruction of my mind when everything clicks. At this point, I’d like to point you to the Prelude when Grelle has sow’s blood on her…yeah…my mind went SHSDJHAKA too. So now we know that Grellie is gonna go murder someone at some point right before she dies and I can’t tell if I’m excited for it or not.

The other thing was the hands that I had said in my Chapter 1 analysis I couldn’t get at 10 PM running on little sleep, but was later told to me to be like a comparison to show how big they are. It's a dysphoria thing. Because you know men are like “bigger” and he notices how big his hands are in comparison to hers so Grell don’t like it. 

Oh! Also the name Grell means bright like as in smart so when George and unnamed man who isn’t unnamed anymore says he takes after his name, it’s a compliment, they’re calling him smart. I think that’s all and if not, then you’ll hear about it in Chapter 3’s analysis.

In the last analysis, I did over six thousand words of paragraph analysis. I will do my best to not do that again. I’ve been suggested to try bullet points. I will be trying bullet points. If I exceed the word count of this chapter once again, I will…I don’t know I’ll do something (maybe finally do the next chapter of forever forgiveness that’d be nice huh) So let’s go on and see how bullet points go. This analysis will be broken down into two sections this time, mother/son bonding and The Mirror Scene™, fyi. Okay let’s go

Section 1: Mother/Son Bonding

Descriptions and cinematography

 This is just in general but I still wanna point it out, Ell has an amazing way of describing things that make the whole story cinematographic almost. I’m one of those people who can’t see pictures in their mind, like I think in words. When reading tsogtr, though, I can see it. It’s new for me, that’s why I’m pointing it out. Just while you’re reading, really take the time to imagine everything because, especially later like with The Mirror Scene™ I can see it and there’s like a whole movie playing in my head and I love it.

Small Room

This just adds to me the whole idea of Friedrich specifically viewing Grell as a child. You could argue that Hilary is the same way, but I think her viewing Grell as a child is more of in a motherly “that’s my baby; always has been, always will be” kind of way while Friedrich is more of a “he’s a child who needs to grow up” kind of way. The fact that Grell’s room is small isn’t just mentioned here, it’s also later on, but I’ll go into that later.

Bullying and Hilary’s kind words and gestures

Hilary loves her son, her baby, and I will say that to my grave. Her gestures and words give off so much warmth and love in this whole scene and it’s just so apparent. Rather than scolding Grell for forgetting things (like a certain someone might have), she sees that he’s upset and that something might have happened. She doesn’t demand it of him, she doesn’t get upset at his lack of words, she sees her child, her baby, struggling and wants to help. She knows of the bullying that was mentioned in the past, and she’s worried for Grell. Hilary’s patient with him, even while he’s stuttering out his words. She has probably always been a safe space for Grell and the way that she just sits with him and lets him take his time shows it so well.

“...as though a spectre was afoot.”

Well… it’s not a ghost…But it is a reaper! :D Okay sorry I’m not funny continuing

George and Keats

Authors huh. I don’t know which George this is about, I’m gonna go with Orwell because I hate Animal Farm but it’s ingrained into me thanks to high school. Keats, I’m gonna imagine him as the physical embodiment of Keats the snake because I think it’s funny. There’s no reason to mention this part of the commentary, I’m just putting it in because I can. George and Keats aren’t important and I’ll be thoroughly surprised if they show up again 

They are, in my mind, a form of “and they were roommates” because they’re always described as a pair. So yeah. And they were roommates. 

I think it’s a little interesting that the two stopped visiting as much after Grell was born. There’s reference to it and after better confirmation, I think it’s worth mentioning that Hilary is heavily alluded to having been a prostitute before Grell was born. With how George and Keats said that she was always a pleasure to see (and considering that Grell probably didn’t understand because I don’t think he knows), they most likely were…frequent employers…to our favorite momma. So once Grell was born, that would explain why they would only talk to Friedrich at the bar. They don’t see Hilary anymore because they’ve moved on and it’s probably awkward to see the accidental child that is Grell Sutcliff. 

Hilary throwing hands

Grell is very prone to overthinking to the point where his worries turn into little scenes that he sees in his head. He’s very anxious and the fact that this is something that’s happened twice in the same day really shows that. (Yes it is the same day, the talk with Friedrich from the beginning of the last chapter happened the morning of this day that’s here. The time is ambiguous, but I imagine that this conversation happens sometime between like 4-5 pm.)

Anyways, momma Hilary would 100% throw hands for Grell

“You know what I see?”

(This encompasses the parts from Grell explaining the roommates calling him like his father and beyond, I just used the quote because I liked it for this section of the section) We already know why Grell was uncomfortable and all, so all to right before the quote I put up there is just reaffirming it and showing how he invalidates his feelings, even to someone who clearly cares.

I think Hilary knows that Grell isn’t himself, not necessarily in a trans way but more in a I just need to show him that he isn’t his father and is his own person who needs more confidence kind of way. Either way, now starts my favorite scene in this whole chapter where Hilary’s just making Grell feel better and highlighting all of like his features in a way that she knows will make him feel better and I wanted to cry reading this. Anyways, she’s just making him feel better in that way that good mommas do with their kids. (Grell has green eyes idk how to insert this but he does and that might come up again once he isn’t a he anymore and really goes into that “damage cliff” stuff iykyk). She goes on and affirms that they’re “like dawn and dusk” and that they love him. As for her basically calling them two sides of the same coin, obviously Friedrich is gonna end up as a catalyst for Grell/e’s anger and I think that that can be seen as foreshadowing in a way for it.

Where did the fried egg (Friedrich; get it, fried egg, fried rich, eggs are expensive in the US right now among other things, eh, eh. It’s okay I’m not funny) go

He’s on a summons. In a noble’s manor. The next town over. Now I’m not saying that this will be important (that’s exactly what I’m saying) and it’s totally not because I know too much about the future of this story (I know a lot about the future of this story). Just. This is foreshadowing, just keep that in mind. The fried egg also told Hilary about Grell losing the job with fish and she’s plenty more supportive than the egg about it and shows as such by brushing over it and continuing on.

 “I’ve always believed the eyes were the windows to the soul. Everybody’s are different, darling.”

We have more foreshadowingggg. And also sadness. First, “eyes are the windows to the soul”, is a little ironic considering that Grell is about to lose his soul at some point soon. Second, “Everybody’s are different”, until you’ve killed yourself and are dead 🥰

Okay but no actually like it’s interesting that this is something that Hilary brings up, especially in a series where eyes mean so much both in tsogtr and kuro in general. Like demons have reddish tinted eyes and full on red when they’re in demon mode, reapers have the double green, Ciel has his demon contract in his eye. Eyes really do show the soul or lack thereof and while, yes, this is just a usual metaphor that’s been said for a long time and doesn’t have a literal meaning, but in this case it can be both and that’s interesting. 

Baby Grell

He was a little shit. At least in Friedrich’s pov he probably was. 

Also just imagine Grell as a naked ass child running around to not go into the bath like it’s just funny and adorable at the same time. I can imagine him doing it since he was baby baby and I don’t like kids but Grell can be the exception

✨ Makeup ✨

It’s a nice moment between them and one that gives me hope that Hilary will accept Grelle. Due to the time period, it’s still not a huge chance, but a chance nonetheless and I will hold on to it like my life depends on it. And Grell putting the lip paint on his mother makes it feel warmer too like it’s just a nice time.

Okay part 1 of Section 1 done. It’s shorter than I thought it was gonna be, so like, that’s a win for me. There wasn’t much to analyze here (there was another mention of pigs and they have become an arch enemy for me but it literally means nothing. eventually bees will join this list, but that’s to be talked about in another chapter). Oh yeah and I say part 1 because I combined two scenes into one section this is just my little interlude for it. Take a break, get some water, get a snack. Okay let’s continue.

Bread making

More wholesomeness. As a baker, this scene makes me very happy, especially because they made a competition out of it and I just folded at that. Someone come do this with me, we’ll make whatever sweets you want it doesn’t have to be bread I’ve made many things before so we can do it I’m open to literally anyone. Let’s make a platonic discord date out of it we can bake on call together. (That’s all mostly /j like unless we have open communication that’s just me being lonely)

 ANYWAYS THAT WAS A BIG DIGRESSION

She gave him a big smooch :( /pos I love them so much you have no idea Ell if you hurt Hilary I’ll stop analyzing this story /j 

I can’t say anything about Grell because we know where that’s going

Dancey Dance

I’m pretty sure “junge” means boy in German so Grell calling his mother that is funny to me because she probably doesn’t speak it either and so would never notice and it shows how bad he is at German despite his father calling him that in the morning. Silly Grell, it’s okay we’ll always love you. Edit: All of that is not as intended…there’s my interpretation but it isn’t meant to be like that it’s more the two making fun of Friedrich. So yeah.

More memories of dancey dancing but Hilary brings up how Grell’s grown up so fast. She says “You just loved me too much to leave” which, in context, is about how Grell was overdue in his birth, but is also just really making the foreshadowing about the inevitable really hurt more. This goes even further when she says how “the place would be empty without you.” Grell is the heart that’s kept Hilary going these years and she loves him just as much as he her, probably even moreso. Let’s be real here, Grell was not a baby who was created on purpose. Hilary was a prostitute, and a young one at that. She isn’t older than 45 which, if you do the math seeing as Grell is 27, means that she had him at MOST at 18. The estimated age is around 15-18. Friedrich is obviously older, having been probably around 21ish when Grell was born and is now in his late 40s (48-50). Grell was not made on purpose so for Hilary to have gone through with the pregnancy so young and immediately going on to marrying the man she had a baby with must have been a lot for her. It’s not like she would’ve had many options but to keep Grell but still. We all know the Circus arc, abandoning kids isn’t far off and she could’ve easily done the same. Grell kept her going and so when the inevitable Cliff Scene™, as I am now dubbing it, comes along, I know that I won’t be able to resist thinking about Hilary when she eventually learns of her baby’s death. End scene.

I said it didn’t I? I said I’d make things shorter. And I have delivered. (Future Em here: the whole thing is 4.5k words. Which technically is shorter so I do win ha) The thing is, now we’re on to the Mirror Scene. If you are reading both this and the story side by side, now is the time when I tell you to stop, go read the scene properly, and then come back. Trust me, you’ll need it. The Mirror Scene™ is one that’s full of heavy, heavy feelings and ideology that hit me hard. There are trigger warnings for nudity and dysphoria, and they should be taken into account before reading. This is an important scene towards setting up Grelle and will be coming back in the future. I am not transgender individual and so if I say something that is in bad taste or offensive, please do not hesitate to let me know. In this section, I also talk about my own struggles from being a kid and now with how I perceive myself, so be warned of that. It starts right after the paragraph about Grell turning the mirror around. If there is one thing I could ask of everyone, it’s to be kind to me about that part and if you don’t wanna see it, don’t read it. But let me talk about it for my own sake. With that being said:

Section 2: The Mirror Scene  

I’m going back to paragraphs, this isn’t a bullet point endeavor. So the scene opens and Grellie’s having a bath. We got the setup and we get a reiteration of how small Grell’s room is. Most importantly in this description is that where he bathes gives a direct path to his reflection. 

This reflection is the whole thing which sets up the scene. It’s generally something that happens to a lot of people where they become insecure at what they see in the mirror, whether because of just general insecurity pushed by beauty ideals, or something which takes root in the mind and festers and grows into something much worse. The latter of this is true for Grell. He perceives himself in his mind much differently from how he looks in real life. Grell isn’t the perfect self he sees in his mind. Again, this is something that a lot of people feel, but for him, it’s much deeper than that. He knows what he wants to see, the perfect self in his mind, however knows that that will never be him. Grell, in his mind, can never be the person who he always sees in himself, almost as if he’s locked away in a cage of who he is on the outside. The light might seem so close and the corners of the room he’s in are visible in the near pitch black, but it never gets closer nor further away. It’s a detachment from the mind yet also something that is ever present in the corners of it. This anxiety and these feelings are described as a God-given punishment and a “flesh-eating disease” in a fitting way which shows the internalized turmoil he feels from feeling this way. I asked Ell about Hilary not having aborted Grell and she had told me about how, before Grell, Hilary wasn’t as connected to religion but that after she is somewhat religious. Grell also says how he’s read biblical verses in school (though it is said “unwillingly” which suggests that neither Hilary or Friedrich cared much about having Grell submit to a religion). Obviously he knows about the whole idea that “God doesn’t make mistakes” and so to be feeling that he, in the body he was gifted and blessed with, is not his true self is a high sin. It’s the disease that eats away at his brain, the sin which keeps him from being true. Even with Hilary letting him try things for fun at times or if Friedrich was more open to it, Grell has that internalized turmoil of what he has been taught versus what he is.

Then we get to the rituals he would do to lessen his, let’s be honest, dysphoria (there is also the dysmorphia which is implied but the two tend to go hand-in-hand sometimes so I’ll touch on it more as the scene progresses but in a general sense, what Grell is feeling dysphoric). He starts slow with just turning the mirror around which seems like a pretty good idea. He doesn't have to perceive his true being when clothed or when naked and you know what that sounds like a pretty good deal. Except then he gets asked about it and oh shit I need an excuse and oh fuck I’m not a good liar and I can’t really tell people the real reason I’m doing this and uh uh uh I need a new solution. 

Something I wanna intercept this stream with here is the image of Grell having panic attacks in his room. It’s small, we know this, I keep bringing it up and so like unless he goes and has his attacks (because you cannot tell me that Grell Sutcliff has never had a case of semi-frequent panic attacks he literally had one in the first chapter and felt so much anxiety about his new job before that he ended up throwing up) on his bed, the floor is the only option. With the layout we were given, I bet you that the floor he’d have these attacks on were- wouldn’t you know it- right in front of that damn mirror. So while he’s already feeling bad, I want you to imagine Grell sitting on his floor facing the mirror or being able to at least see himself in the mirror at some point in the midst of a panic attack. And all those thoughts of his dysphoria coming in to join the party. But I digress.

Next solution, wear a shirt over yourself. The thinking for why he does it is much different than what I’m gonna compare it to, but I’m gonna do it anyway. When I first read this part, I was immediately thrown back into little Em’s mind when they used to go to the pool with their friends and were always told that they had to wear a large shirt over themselves in order to go swimming. For those who don’t know, this is something that a lot of parents do to cover up their children’s bodies from pervs, however, I, at the ripe age of 10 and even beyond to now at 19, have never been a skinny kid. I was always the fat kid and not the fat where you just developed early and wow look it’s the 12 year old with boobs (though that too), I was the fat kid who was told by my relatives to stop wearing short sleeved shirts because my arms were too fat to make it look right or to stop wearing shorts because my thighs were too big. I still keep that ideology to this day as I reach 20 this year and have not owned a pair of shorts since I was 11. Anyways, Grell wearing a shirt to bathe in reminded me of all of this because that’s what I would do. I’d wear a shirt in the shower, to the pool, and I’m sure if I ever went to a waterpark, I’d wear it there too. This isn’t all for analysis purposes that I’m mentioning this, rather it’s because this is a part which I, Em, the author of this post, hi, hello, how’s it going, resonated with very much so. I mentioned in the little disclaimer before this part, I am not a transgender individual. But for those who were following me up until like two weeks ago know, I recently changed my pronouns and while I don’t have a label for myself quite yet, this part with Grell using a nightshirt to cover himself as a way to not have to be perceived even if it’s just be himself, calling it an “unremovable suit of man’s skin”, and saying how he has a “loathing for his own form” hit me in a place I didn’t need to be hit (/hj). I heavily considered not mentioning my own feelings about this part, but to do so would be a disservice to myself, to the little girl who I once was, and to the character who has helped me through some of these feelings. And, of course, to all of the other people who may or may not see this post, read what I said, and think to themselves “I’m not alone.” I hope you enjoyed looking a bit more into who I am as a person and why I am who I am because I sure didn’t (/j). If anyone ever needs someone to talk to, please, please, please never hesitate to reach out to me. I will always be there as best I can for those who need it. /gen

Anyways, that sad stuff is over, so let’s get back into the sad stuff that we came here for :D  The delusion that the shirt will help, even if just for the moment, and the idea that maybe one day, just maybe, things will change overnight, is such a hurtful thought. Partly because the delusion and false hope of it all can just cause more harm and disappointment as time goes on but also because it’s just sad. Grell is stuck in this endless cycle and because of his internalized fears, the cycle is destined to never end. He studies himself, as if he’s an external being rather than the body that inhabits his brain. He convinces himself he’s sick. Someone who would be locked away as delusional. He hides his thoughts of her away in fear of what could happen lest he make herself truly known.

Describing her body, she doesn’t connect much to herself really. Sure, Grelle may deem it as “his limbs” or even “his penis” but it’s as she says, it’s not a combination of words which resonates with her. That isn’t her body that she sees, yet she’s still faced with the unfortunate reality that she is connected to it. Scars might be easy to conceal, but the weight will always remain. Disfigurement might not make the essential bane of her existence go away, but it can conceal some of it. Alternatively, the scar of her penis is one which is too big to conceal properly, no matter how much she may try. It’s there. She can try and get rid of it, but the scar will always remain, figuratively and literally in the case of bottom surgery. 

Then we get to the apex of the mirror scene- Grell’s art skills. Okay no but seriously, Grell lets Grelle take over here as she draws out herself while, internally, Grell is almost panicking, coming to full terms with what is really going on. He sees herself; the her who has always been in the back of his mind, plaguing his inner thoughts of his perception versus his reality. He sees who she is for the first time visually, properly, in the real world. And she loves it. She doesn’t see herself as ugly, she sees herself as her. Grelle is finally seeing what she was always missing for the past 27 years.

And then reality comes back.

The big takeaway besides the obvious reveal and realization of Grelle versus Grell is the fact that he never erased the image. One could argue “oh but he does it later”; does he random person?? Does he really?? Because I think that in the abrupt snap from Grelle to Grell, I don’t think he does. I think he’s gonna finish getting dressed, and then go back to the kitchen and leave the mirror as it is with the image of Grelle on it. I think that this is going to cause problems. Hell, I know this is gonna cause problems. But that, dear friends, is something which will be properly revealed in the next chapter of The Story of Grelle the Reaper. Until next time. (*in a matpat voice* But hey, that’s just a theory, a Grelle theory, thanks for reading. Sorry, I had to lol.)

~~~

There is so much to love about this story from the way it's written, to the relationships between the characters, to how much detail is being paid attention to here. If you'd like to be tagged, feel free to leave an ask or a reply and I will gladly add you to the taglist for the analysisisis that I do on tsogtr. And if you have any of your own theories or comments, leave those too! I'd love to start a section where we can talk about all of our theories, especially as things pick up more and more. Until next chapter!

Taglist: @hobbit-in-kuroshitsuji @superjelly11

[mlobsters]

supernatural s10e3 soul survivor (w. brad buckner, eugenie ross-leming)

(i feel like eugenie and brad episodes have been on the better side of things generally? that's why i tag the writers in the post so i can theoretically go back and get a ~feel~ for how i felt in an organized fashion esp since i can't remember episodes names/numbers for shit)

priest blessing?? whatever the blood to de-demon dean also inexplicably has an accent

dean, i'm begging you, please bring your voice back up a smidge. also i really thought the demon arc was longer! probably because fic is fleshing out all that potential they left hanging

oh, jackles directed this one. he shoulda given himself notes that he's... coming across very forced in this little chat in the chair. :S

oh, sam. padalecki's been coming through on the worn down and emotional

DEAN Sam, I know you think you’re gonna try and fix me, but … did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I won’t bother you. What do you care? SAM What do I care? DEAN You think I’m just gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this! SAM Yeah, I pretty much figured that out

dean's turn with the soulless(ish) desire to stay as such

speaking of forced, this weird romantic-ish tension they're trying to do with hannah and castiel is weird

margiekugel's got a neon sign and everything, fancy

wiki

Margiekugel is a beer from Wisconsin created for the show that is named after Production Designer Jerry Wanek's mom (see Leinenkugel).

okay so i thought the whole deal for the dude's wife/crowley wanting dean to do it was strange, well. okay, sam. but we know scruples go out the window when dean needs saving

cracked me up. lurking in the bushes yelling out a correction. also, jared, i can see your gum, dude -_-

i'm kinda seething along with sam because like yeah dean's trying and probably succeeding at getting under sam's skin but he's also saying stuff that isn't true and you know what a fucking uptight ass i am about things like that :p

DEAN Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?!

or we could shaun of the dead the situation

LOL i was wondering if there was a throne. also, i paused twice because i thought the background hell-wailing in the show was one of my kids upstairs crying for me 🥴 almost a third time but i stopped myself

CROWLEY I was thinking of better days. DEMON Yes—your sabbatical. CROWLEY My what? DEMON Uh, we were worried, of course. Your misadventure with the older Winchester was quite the topic of speculation. Uh, if you’ll forgive my boldness… I could now be your wingman.

i'm just. having a hard time believing crowley was really that starry eyed over demon!dean? he's a permanent flirt but also very practical and not exactly sentimental. oh, is he still doing the human blood thing? i haven't really wrapped that into my little character model in my head for him :p

forced to have a semi-scenic stop and chat

this is so strange. he's not interested, she's making good points but then gets all grabby and close like she's gonna go in for a kiss or something

DEAN You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just … tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since … forever. Or maybe … Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!

very effective at pushing every sore spot and insecurity. sadly didn't get much feeling out of me other than stress on sam's behalf. i fear they've broken some of my emotional attachment to the show somehow

DEAN You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit. SAM No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!

only way to quit is to die. but even then it's probably not gonna work

self immolating demon, ok. that seems very specifically not demon like, in the slightest???

CASTIEL Just … I’ve been around humans for long enough to see how easily distractions occur. HANNAH “Distractions.” CASTIEL Emotions, feelings … They’re dangerous temptations.

and they're going to try to help save dean because... nothing to do with emotions or feelings on castiel's part? what. just because you're not interested, don't go blaming it on having ~distracting emotions~

is it time for hannah to die? is she gonna... reup castiel's grace?

sink

how old is that pie??? ew.

it's the mushy familiar music again, but this time... strings? so we've had piano twice (that i noticed), some horn-ish thing and now like.. cello?

i do appreciate that we have more pictures, with bobby and the boys as grownups together too. and it's sweet that they can just use s1 happy behind the scenes type pictures and make it sam and dean

oh, crowley can steal some grace so we don't have to have a moral crisis

mhmm

(mushy music came back briefly during the chat through the door before dean broke it down)

so i did know about the hammer via fic. jackles seemed to be having fun being on his little merry violent hunt. made think (the little i know) of his character in the boys

ok

CASTIEL Well… I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but … also such profound pain. This is easier.

(mushy music AGAIN [piano variation] at the end of dean and cas's conversation)

DEAN What did Sam say? Does he want a divorce?

very normal joke (??) to make about your brother, especially when you basically had a handfasting ceremony in a church along with the other 10 years of things like that. but we're the josie grossies for shipping it. uh huh

CASTIEL I’m sure Sam knows that whatever you said or what you did, it wasn’t really you. It certainly wasn’t all you. DEAN I tried to kill him, Cas. CASTIEL Dean. You two have been through so much. Look, you’re brothers. It’d take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away. DEAN You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense?

that "you're brothers" feels tacked on to make it seem less weird

DEAN I’m glad you’re here, man. CASTIEL Hey, maybe you should um … take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s, uh … I don’t know. The timing might be right. Heaven and Hell—they seem reasonably back in order. It’s quiet out there.

does that means it's time to trigger another apocalypse? surely need at least 3 running subplots as well. i have no idea actually, i avoid too plot specific stuff of the later seasons in fic these days so i'm not sure what's on deck

they could have milked demon!dean for more in a lot more fun ways (which i surely would have complained about, "don't tempt sam with demon blood 😭") for longer, remain surprised how quick they wrapped it up. they dragged out lying about stabbing jewel staite for HOW MANY EPISODES???? lol

[something-about-sunflowers]

so using circumstantial evidence to accuse an entire group of fans of being responsible for anonymous harassment is bad when it happens to you guys, but it’s ok when you guys do it to people who hate izzy?

circumstantial evidence

noun

: evidence that tends to prove a fact by proving other events or circumstances which afford a basis for a reasonable inference of the occurrence of the fact at issue

Now, Anon, I'm not sure what definition of 'circumstantial evidence' you are going by but this is the one I'm going by and given it's backed by Merriam Webster I'm gonna assume it's the correct one.

So.

'Circumstantial evidence', in this case would be:

'I made a post that was negative about Izzy' ➡ 'People who are Izzy positive responded to it' ➡ 'I am later doxxed' ➡ 'Izzy fans must be the ones who doxxed me'.

If you'd like to compare:

'We make posts that are positive about Izzy' ➡ 'People who are Izzy negative respond to them' ➡ 'One of us was doxxed/we receive anon hate' ➡ 'Izzy antis must be the ones who doxxed them/are sending them'.

On the surface they do look similar, I'll give you that, but Anon? We have direct evidence that the doxxing on our side and the anon hate we receive comes from Izzy antis.

Direct evidence meaning 'proof of fact'.

The content of the messages we receive explicitly tells us why it's being sent to us. They directly mention Izzy and our enjoyment of him as a character. The person who got doxxed on our side? Their doxxer admitted to sending it because they enjoyed Izzy (and 'dead dove content') and they explicitly expressed intentions to do it to other Izzy fans.

Now, again, unless there is some context missing from op's posts about the content of the message they received, nothing about said message says anything about why it was sent. The screenshot I've seen says some variation of 'your full name and address are xxxxx' and that's it. No mention of Izzy or fandom in general.

Direct evidence vs circumstantial evidence.

All that aside: we don't, actually, 'accuse an entire group of fans of being responsible for anonymous harassment'. If any of you listened at all when we speak about it you'd know this. We may compare the repeated interjections of some of you coming onto our posts/into our tag to harassment, because to some degree it is, but that's not 'an entire group of fans' that's a very specific few of you who go out of your way to make sure other people can't have a good time when they could just block the people who enjoy and post about the things they hate instead (which is something we do a lot of on this side, the blocking).

Something we actually do, and this I suspect is what you might be implying, is point out how our serial harasser uses some of your in-group's favorite talking points. This isn't to say that they are one of you but simply that they repeat your rhetoric and that it's worth examining on your end if someone spewing such consistent hate is agreeing with you on their biggest talking points.

We also ask your end to condemn the anon hate because, as they primarily agree with most of your talking points, seeing that they're not welcome in the groups they clearly want to be in is incentive for them to stop sending hate. It shrinks their platform. The more people going 'hey, that's not okay' the more likely they are to stop because they either 1. realize they have nobody in their corner or 2. realize that there's a reason they're not in the majority and that its because what they're doing is actually morally incorrect.

You'll notice, if you care to pay attention, that every single Izzy fan that's spoken of the doxxing on your end has condemned it. Not a single one of us wants someone like that in our spaces. Every single one of us has acknowledged that it's a horrible thing to go through and that we wouldn't wish it on anybody.

We do not get that same response from yall.

I'll leave you with this: doxxing is a crime. Levying an accusation of a serious crime at people on, at best, circumstantial evidence is dangerous to the people being accused. It could inspire retaliation. It's also dangerous for the op to be assuming that this is all fandom related when they, in the very next breath, speculate it could be their ex who 1. has a history of stalking them, by their own admission and 2. again, by their own admission, knows where they live.

Brushing it off as some petty fandom drama when they could be being targeted again by their ex is dangerous and they should be focusing on their own safety. If it was fandom related then that's a much less serious situation because these types of things don't tend to move beyond scare tactics. It's still awful and still something to be concerned about but it's not as serious or concerning as someone who they know potentially has access to them and who has gone to those lengths before.

And one more time, let me reiterate: If the person who doxxed them is in our circles? That is unacceptable behavior and you are not welcome here.

[tartrazeen]

I have finally seen Across the Spiderverse!

tl;dr - amazing movie, folks here need to be more normal about Miguel

The longer version:

1. I'm so happy you people put that "Gwen is trans" theory in my head.

I got to watch the whole beginning of the movie like, "Omg, her dad is so supportive of her!"

And then I got to watch that part where Miles tells her, "We're the same. Uh - I mean, in the important ways, we're same," and be like "(⁠☞ﾟ⁠∀ﾟ⁠)⁠☞ Solid recovery, man."

And then I got to watch the part where Gwen comes back home, and when her dad asks her where she's been, appreciate the metaphor that'd be in, "I was off murdering all my best friends." Like - oof. I would not have caught the added meaning in a trans girl telling that to her father without this theory. A bit of "I guess he's not that supportive" followed by "Oh thank God, he's going to try harder through the power of movie magic and love and acceptance."

And that really hammered home the "Spider-man is a metaphor for coming out" with Miles, because he can't exactly pull a Misha Collins and come out as straight. As bi, though? As part of a big, interconnected web of LGBTQ2I+? Yeeeesssss.

Separately from that, I hope he and Gwen get together, really building off the "I'm gonna do my own thing" arc he's going through, paired with the "It doesn't end well" bit about Gwen falling for a Spider-man.

2. Loved how quickly they set up Spot.

I get him, I get the story, but they kept the pacing perfectly focused on the Spiderverse stuff. Spot's in the background but also developed well in the background. It's a perfect case of 'not too little' but especially - more importantly! - not too much.

3. Hobie is a fucking bro.

He showed up to help everyone - like one of the first things out of his mouth was, "Hey Miles, you can do better with your powers, here's some help." Loved him. And the fucking COMMON SENSE this guy had? I loved his little "haha anarchy" jokes, but this guy was on the Spiderverse's side completely - right up until he realized, "Nope, this shit has crossed a line" and immediately fought back against them. He didn't just help Miles and then quit. He helped Miles, quit, probably left assuming that Miguel wasn't gonna go completely batshit, and despite that assumption, still had the presence of mind to pass on his not-a-watch to Gwen.

And I think someone else wrote that he ran away? I disagree with characterization. He didn't panic and leave, and he didn't even abandon anybody. He disagreed, withdrew his support, and then left the others to come around at their own speed. I mean, Miguel hurried that speed up a lot, but that just speaks to how fast Hobie moved from "I agree with the Spiderverse" to "You guys are fucking facists." And the second he was tagged to help - after realizing how correct he was about the 'facist' thing - he was immediately back to actively fighting alongside Gwen. There was no passiveness on his side whatsoever. What a bro. And he even gave Gwen a place to stay when she needed it, which was such an extra point of community. 💖

4. Uhhhhhh can everyone please be more normal about Miguel...?

Because I watched that movie. I know like 5% of who this guy is. They gave us the Cliff notes of Sad Backstory and a glimpse - a glimpse! - into how he probably felt, but it was all from behind an iron mask. We haven't gotten into any of the real him yet, just the anger and outrage and fury.

So... people taking running with an obviously incomplete character? That's normal, fine, sure.

People taking that and running with it to slot him in as an uwu Top for Peter B.? Did you only go in looking for a ship, and did you have to be so weird about making it be the guy whose only defining traits are "Big" when his other and MORE IMPORTANT defining trait is "PoC whose race has been historically and actively fetishized for being violent sex objects"? 'Cause it's like everyone just scrubbed that 5% of what we know away to put him into this predefined "Big Dom Top" role with zero self-reflection, and handwaved how that once again perpetuates every racist stereotype this relates to. All to woobify the white guy some more.

I'm all for shipping, but you people literally don't know him. His story's pretty clearly being saved for the next movie, comic book sales show so many of you don't read those and definitely didn't before this (likely just stopping at what Wikipedia says), and went off of ~v i b e s~

And just happened to not notice how creepy and fetishizing it is that those were the vibes you were left with.

5. I teared up when Miles' story started. Yes, right after the opening title.

I wasn't expecting it, but as soon as the music started and that atmosphere was set, I just got hit with such a wave of, "This is unapologetically black." I heard the Puerto Rican vibes coming in later and both of them perfectly throughout the movie, but the centering of his blackness through the music alone. It was a 'great opening for a sequel' before that point. At that point? It was 'a brand-new story.' 💖💖💖💖 Representation bbyyyyy