#added the signature thingy

[nabhx]

omg can you draw a BIG cat - bitchatcloudtower

He is the size of Sweden!! It's his!! He owns Sweden!!

server Boy server Boy

[duhsty1]

pov um uhhh um @moonliched

FIRST ATTACK EVER WOWOOWOWOWO @chaireem you are next I am looking at you

[ghostgirl101]

Being Loved By Paul Atreides

A/N: Quick lil blurb headcanon thingy while I work on my next set of hcs between a Feyd and Paul love triangle 🙃

Being loved by Paul Atreides would mean that you're never alone, not inside your mind or out of it. The Water of Life gave him the pooling knowledge to break into others' and he almost always knows how you're feeling, without even having to say a word. Even if you're quiet about how you feel and are usually good at pushing things down and hiding them away, Paul always manages to bring the to light, and you'll know you're caught out when you look up from where you are to immediately catch his blue-in-blue gaze locked onto yours with a knowing look. Sometimes the knowing look turns a bit cocky when what you're thinking about happens to be him.

Being loved by Paul Atreides would mean that you're an anchor to his humanity and burden as the Messiah, having a profound and unbreakable bond tied with you that transcends any ordinary relationship. The love he feels for you is a force in itself, scarily powerful and true and darkly pure, that no other force in the Known Universe could sever it.

Being loved by Paul Atreides would mean that you're the only one to see him at his smallest and most vulnerable, in between council meetings and fights in his name during the Holy War breaking out over the worlds, the guilt that racks him to his core and makes him want to hide away from it all. The nights that are spent clinging to you so tightly that your skin goes pale by his hard grip, and there's nothing more to feel but the overwhelming heat of his body pressed up as close as it can against your own, his dark hair tickling your neck and face while he burrows into your neck to smell nothing but the soft signature scent of you, and of home.

Being loved by Paul Atreides would mean that every touch, gesture, and moment of closeness feels like something more, like every action to pull you in closer isn't just physical, but a mental strain too, to merge your thoughts and sense of self with his own, so much so that it's almost suffocating.

Being loved by Paul Atreides would mean that you're never protected more than you are when you're under his fierce, observant watch and devotion. He insists that he doesn't need his guards or watchmen as he can look after himself, with heightened senses and strength enough to know what's coming his way in the present moments and the hidden intentions of those around him, and so they're sent to watch over you instead with keen eyes and strict instruction. If Paul himself is not standing watch over you by your side, you can feel his eyes on you, as if it's omnipresent, and god forbid anyone to let their gaze linger on you with a look he doesn't like, because that's a sure way to be sent down as a sacrifice to the sandworms.

Being loved by Paul Atreides would mean that the only advice or insight he's given that he would truly and wholly think over and consider would have to come from you and be believed by you without the influence of others, because his trust lies in you, and its enough to make him pause for a moment in thought as he pulls apart your words and all their meaning to see if they can fit in and around his plans.

Being loved by Paul Atreides would mean that he would never give a moment of a second's thought to any other man or woman but you, because he holds strong to the conviction that you're his soulmate and the leading light of his destiny. If you die, he dies inside with the last of his strength, and he'll embrace the desert with open arms to offer him up to the great Shai Hulud Himself.

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Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎 ⊹˚₊‧───────────────────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @milaeth @ennycutie @nckcn @void21 @leighta @williamtt33 @deathsimp @tatumrileyslover @beebumbo @the-dark-dreamer25 @lilepad @skboo @keicdcat @1950schick @reggiesmoon @velosrantipole @yoonessa @anonymjuni @saturnhas82moons @xlxnq @frickyea-guacamole19 @meowmeeps @chalklate

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DUNE MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊��� ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ MAIN MASTERLIST

[snipersfucker]

request from @infintyfandoms: Thought! Mirage is always so reckless, well what if one time he went too far and hurt his friend or s/o (either)?? I feel like he’d blame himself so bad - even if he was blind sighted by a distracted driver. Never drive crazy again or not drive around again or what??

angsty mirage x fem!reader times. thought of making it a headcanon thingy but nah. this one might need a warning that there are descriptions of serious injuries. and im also writing this on 0 hours of sleep thank you very much

A silver Porsche parked in front of the vinyl store you just walked out of was catching the attention of every passerby. Both men and women's eyes were stopping on the vehicle for a bit longer than they would on any regular car, their heads turning slightly to allow them to do that.

Mirage loved that. He loved transforming in different models everyday, the next one even more prestigious than the one before. Just to get that attention every single time.

You noticed a couple of teenage girls staring at your boyfriend, and even though you were fully aware they were doing so only because he was a good-looking car, you still rolled your eyes at it.

Your feet led you to the Porsche and you hopped in. Before getting the chance to point out the shameless staring of the group of teens, Mirage spoke up, "Whatcha got there?"

Your gaze had shifted to the vinyl case before you placed it down on the passenger's seat without much thought.

"Music," you responded casually in a light tone, putting your hands on the steering wheel, even though you knew Mirage would be doing the driving. "You got fans," you murmured under your breath but Mirage could obviously hear it. Your eyes landed on the girls again, and although you weren't particularly jealous, you still didn't appreciate it too much.

"Hell yeah, I do, baby," he said proudly, the grin in his voice palpable, even though you couldn't see it at the moment. And then, he added, a little bit more quietly as if he was saying this to the man who literally stopped in front of the car to admire him, "You wish you looked like that, huh?"

You let out an amused snort, and patted the gear stick with your palm to give him a sign to drive out of the parking lot. "C'mon."

"Let me honk at him," he'd asked for your permission seconds before doing it anyway without you allowing him to, causing the man to jump in his spot and then walk away. You just smacked the passenger's seat in disapproval, not even going on a rant about his behaviour because it was a daily occurrence for Mirage to do whatever he wanted.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, offended by your sudden reaction, as if he wasn't used to it, "I'm all for violence unless it's directed towards me," he muttered, sounding like an annoyed child. Then, without any warning, he revved the engine and drove out of the parking lot onto the main road. You only rolled your eyes without a word but then, you noticed how fast he was passing all the other cars in his lane, which he would usually cuss out for being slow, as if their owners weren't driving under the speed limit for safety reasons.

"Mirage…" you warned him, using his full name instead of a nickname, which he did not appreciate but decided not to speak on it and just change the topic.

"Jus' tell me it's not George Michael," he said with a short sigh, as if it was very important to him that it, in fact, was not George Michael.

"Mirage..." you warned him once again, ignoring his words, gripping the steering wheel with much more force now to hopefully get him to slow down.

"Nope," he said simply, understanding what you meant without you even having to say it. If he was in his humanoid form, he'd probably cross his arms on his chest and shake his head with that signature smirk indicating that he knew he was in control of the situation. "That's what you get for hitting your poor boy," he added, sounding very content with himself, revving the engine once more just to show you that he, in fact, was not planning on slowing down.

You scoffed. "You deserved it."

"For what?" he began talking in that specific, overly innocent tone, and you just knew he was going to say something sarcastic that would only annoy you even more, "For being so cute and funny?" He asked rhetorically, as if he wasn't aware that he really needn't have honked at that man, and then drive as recklessly as he normally would when you weren't inside him.

But he was very much aware. It was just that his pride didn't allow him to apologise.

"For being a little shit." You decided not to banter with him as per usual, but just to get straight to the point. Even though you were possibly risking starting an argument between you two, you just needed to reprimend him at the moment, especially now that you noticed how nonchalant he was about it.

"Ouch," he pretended to be hurt by what you just said. And although he wasn't actually offended, he still wasn't really in the mood to let you win.

So he sped up even more.

Noticing the opportunity presented right in front of him, the almost empty road ahead of you two, he floored the gas pedal, making you let out a short, quiet noise at the impact in which you got pushed back into the seat.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you asked him with anger in your voice, not raising it just yet, and not actually expecting a response. But you got one anyway:

"Takin' you on a ride date, baby," he answered sarcastically, his overly sweet tone making him sound even more annoying than before.

"Mirage, I���"

If he wasn't as sure in his abilities as he was, he'd never drive over three times faster than the speed limit allowed, never wanting to actually risk you getting hurt in any way.

And it wasn't even his fault, when a sport's car drove right into his left side, before you could even finish your sentence.

It wasn't his fault that the car ran a red light, that it was supposed to stop and wait for him to just drive away without getting thrown to the right by the impact.

It wasn't his fault that he was now rolling over for the fifth time, his roof and sides hitting the hard asphalt every single time.

You weren't even making any noises anymore so that he would know that you were with him, conscious, alive. He ignored the sound of his glass shattering, his metal body getting scratched, bent and painfully ruined, just to be able to hear your breath.

The other car was in a much worse condition, but he didn't care. The only thing occupying his mind was you, your heartbeat he would do anything to hear again. He needed to make sure you were still there.

He felt it all. He felt the pain that came with getting drove into by another car, with flipping over with unimaginable speed and force. But he needed to make sure you were alright.

And he couldn't even do anything to stop his worst nightmare from beginning to play right in front of his very optics.

Then, after a few moments that felt like hours to him, everything finally came to an end. The hiss coming out of him was still hearable, the hot steam, the liquid pouring out of his fual lines threatened to mix with the flames growing with every passing second. But it was finally quiet; no noise of metal hitting the asphalt distracted him from listening to your body.

His spark nearly exploded with relief when he heard the faint sound of your heartbeat. He wanted to transform, to be able to hold you, to get you out of him so that his bent roof wouldn't be pressing against your wounded head.

When people began to gather up around him, he realised he had a decision to make: to transform and risk getting hunted down just like it happened to Bumblebee, or to stay there and pray to Primus, pray to the people now surrounding him that they'd help you and make sure you were okay.

He wanted to scream at them to hurry up, to get you out, to make that heartbeat of yours sound more promising. To let him know that you weren't going to—

The idea of losing you forever crossed his mind for a split second before he could even stop it.

And it was his fault that he was going a lot over the speed limit, too distracted by the need to tease you, to win the argument, and show you that you had nothing to say in the way he was behaving.

It was his fault that there was crimson running down your forehead, the drops rolling past the hairs of your eyebrows, all the way down to your jaw, then staining your shirt with your own blood.

It was his fault that your body felt lifeless against his ruined upholstery, the only motion it was making was an almost undetectable rise of your chest every couple of seconds.

His train of thoughts got interrupted by the distant sound of sirens getting closer and closer to him. The people were talking, someone was yelling, it all making an irritating mixture of human noises he didn't need to hear at the moment.

Mirage felt his left door being opened or rather being torn out of him in a couple painful motions. He didn't care.

He just wanted them to take you away from him.

When he no longer felt your weight on his driver's seat, he almost let a sound of relief through his radio, but just now noticed that it's been ruined, making it impossible for him to do so. He hadn't paid attention to it earlier, too stunned to be able to say anything to you, even though your name and endless questions if you were okay wanted to escape him.

Cold liquid hit his hot metal body, the lower temperature of it somewhat helping him get in a clearer state of mind. Even though he felt deserving of being on fire, he appreciated the slight relief it gave him.

Somebody placed you on a stretcher, put you carefully in another vehicle, and then closed the door. He couldn't see you anymore but was sure the humans would take good care of you. Better care than he was able to offer.

The loud sirens hit his audio receptors before he registered the ambulance leaving the crash site.

And the sound was still bouncing against the interior walls of his helm every single day since the accident. The imagine of your limp body, his steering wheel covered in your blood, your head pressed uncomfortably against the remains of his left window...

Two whole weeks passed and he couldn't think of anything else but you. You in that horrible state he put you in himself.

The guilt was eating him alive, and even though he'd make Noah visit you everyday in the hospital to make sure your condiction was stable, he still couldn't help but beat himself up and be worried sick.

"Concussion, five broken ribs, broken arm and nose, and she was fucking bleeding from her liver, man," your mutual friend told him after leaving the hospital for the first time, after the doctors allowed anybody to visit you, even though you weren't conscious yet.

It affected Noah nearly as much as it did the robot. The only difference was that the human had no reason to blame himself for it, because it wasn't his recklessness that nearly killed you.

Mirage fell silent.

He got quiet, very quiet, unusually for him. Every Autobot he used to hang out with knew what happened, how much you meant to him, and how affected he was by the accident. They noticed the sudden shift in his behaviour, the once bubbly personality disappearing just so he could dwell in guilt in peace.

The thing that bothered him a lot among others was that he couldn't see you. He couldn't walk into the hospital you were being taken care of in. He couldn't sit next to you and tell you how painfully sorry he was for doing it to you, for putting you in danger, for hurting you so much your pain radiated off you body and made him feel it, too.

Noah insisted on repairing him, and he agreed purely because then he'd be able to park in front of the hospital to be as near you as possible.

But he was a wreck, both physically and emotionally.

And it still didn't change when you finally got discharged. He was not the one to pick you up from the hospital, it was Noah and Bee. He couldn't face you.

You asked about him when you woke up from the coma, your friend sitting next to you on the uncomfortable hospital chair only shrugging in response, telling you he didn't know anything about Mirage, where he was or how he was.

It was a lie. The robot was spending his time either in the garage, getting fixed by his only human friend, or out on the road, hoping that maybe, just maybe someone would crash into him again, making him feel that pain again. That pain he thought he deserved for harming you.

And when you insisted on Noah taking you to the garage to see him, after getting the information about his location out of the poor human, Mirage couldn't help but feel even worse than before.

You were alive, of course you were alive, but he also did notice the way you winced with every step, how dull the colour of your skin was compared to the times before the accident, how fragile you looked, standing there in front of him with Noah not leaving your side in case you'd collapse onto the floor.

You were alive, but also in so much pain he couldn't even look at you without feeling a strong sting in his spark.

His optics shifted to Noah in an instant, as if he was trying to bash him for taking you here, which he responded to out loud with his hands raised in a defensive gesture, "She threatened me."

You didn't even know what you were feeling at that moment. A mixture of sadness, annoyance, impatience, and hurt made you unable to say anything, forcing you to just stand there in silence. Suddenly, a short wave of pain washed over your right side, making you grimace and put your only free palm on the area surrounding your liver.

As soon as Mirage noticed your movement, he made an involuntary step towards you, his servos extended in your direction, as if he was trying to both comfort you and catch you if you were to fall.

Noah immediately asked, "You okay?" His eyes shifting between your hand on your side and your pained face. You just nodded.

Uncomfortable silence fell between the three of you, and the other human was close to replacing it with whistling just so that he wouldn't have to stand there awkwardly without a word.

"Imma just leave you two, yeah?" He scratched the back of his neck, his feet already leading him in the direction of the exit. "Jus'... scream if you die or somethin'..." he added, the awkwardness making him joke about things he normally wouldn't joke about.

And then, he left. He left poor Mirage with even poorer you. Alone.

You let out a grunt, making your way to the nearest chair to sit down. He was ready to help you with everything, but he didn't know if you even wanted him to, so he just stayed in his spot.

"You look bad," you commented, lazily motioning to his beaten-up body with your hand. The raspiness, the weakness in your voice almost made him drop to his knees.

He responded unsurely after a pause, a forced, unamused smirk on his face plate, "...You should see the other guy."

It was awkward. Awkward as never before, you two having always found it pretty easy to communicate with each other. But now... Now he couldn't help but feel that unpleasant feeling in his tank when you spoke up and made him say something back to you.

And it was his fault.

Your reaction to his little joke wasn't something you could control. A short, quiet chuckle left your mouth, causing you to grab your right side even more tightly and a wince of pain on your face to deepen.

She can't even laugh.

He felt so excruciatingly bad he had to fight himself not to transform into a car and just drive away.

You wanted to tell him that you've been told the other driver didn't make it. But you knew the war it would start in his mind if you shared that information with him, so you stayed silent.

"You look terrible," he muttered after a few moments of observing your body, as if to himself to comment on the damage he'd done.

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement. "That's exactly what every woman likes to hear," you responded, deciding that a little banter would be better than sitting without any words being exchanged.

Mirage's eyes widened slightly as he took a step towards you, his servos up in the air again in a specific gesture that indicated that he didn't actually mean it like that.

He had this tendency to make things worse with his words, and normally it wouldn't bother him at all, but this time it was you. He didn't want to make thing worse with you.

"No, no, you're pretty. Gorgeous, in my humble opinion. Walking perfection even," he wanted to correct himself, spurting word after word just to show you that he didn't want you to be mad at him. "Geez, I'm sorry," he added, bringing his servos to his face plate to cover it in... embarrassment.

Something new for him.

You shook your head, looking up at him with a small smile. "I do look kinda ter—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he said with much more confidence now, "...For everything."

He rarely apologised.

But you deserved to hear it. Even if you weren't ready to forgive him just yet, even if you were to never forgive him, he just needed you to know that he regretted it.

You frowned, opening your mouth to say something, but he interrupted you again, "Maybe I shouldn't have be the fastest car in Brooklyn that day. Maybe I should've listened to you and not be a little shit," he recalled the way you called him these few weeks ago, just minutes before the accident. With determination in his tone, he continued, "You can hate me, I can take it." But then, he changed his mind as soon as he realised he would prefer if you didn't hate him, "Actually. Hate me for the next three days at max. Please. If you don't want me to rip my vents out."

You snorted weakly once more, the movement of your body making you wince in pain again.

He finally found enough courage within himself to get closer to you. With a couple of steps, he kneeled down in front of you and extended one of his servos in your direction, as if non-verbally telling you to stop laughing and not cause yourself even more pain.

"'m sorry," he whispered his apology again, the sincere look in his optics showing you just how much he cared for you.

"It wasn't y—"

"It was," he interrupted you in a much more serious tone, but it was still filled with softness, "I was stupid..."

"Nothing new," you managed to blurt out before closing your eyes shut and grunting, a grimace on your face as you felt another sting of pain, which you were kind of used to now.

You opened your eyes and looked up at his worried optics observing your every move, his servos desperately wanting to touch and help you but he knew it'd only make things worse due to his size.

You let out a short chuckle at your own joke as soon as your body allowed you to.

"Not funny," he reprimanded you with a serious face, not finding your apparent discomfort amusing at all, even though he agreed with your words.

"You were just making jokes ab—"

"So?"

You rolled your eyes at him. "Child," you insulted him, fully aware how much he hated being called out on his childishness.

"I'm older than your cute little Earth, please," he scoffed.

"No, you're not," you deadpanned.

"...So?"

"I hate you," you said, although a small smile on your lips betrayed you.

"That's the spirit," he sighed but the corners of his lips curled up as well. A beat of silence passed and his gaze went back to your face, "I meant that."

You frowned slightly.

"I am sorry. For being the..." he was about to say something that would hurt his pride and ego, but decided it was worth it, "...the dumbest machine there is. Even a hairdryer is smarter than me," he insulted himself, hoping the sacrifice would make you like him again.

"You're right." You nodded, fighting back a chuckle.

He raised his arms in a playfully offended, confused gesture. "You could at least disagree, damn."

You shook your head in amusement.

After another beat of silence, he said seriously, "You're never coming inside me again."

"Wow."

"Should've worded it better, yeah..." he trailed off, "Primus, woman, give me a break." He let out a small laugh when he noticed your amused reaction to his sentence. "No, seriously... I... You're my girl, yeah? Don't want you to... You know, be in pain."

Why did he have to be so awkward about his feelings? Now that he finally had the chance to show you how much he loved you and never wanted to see you hurt again.

"I still have your..." he wanted to say that he still had your blood on some of his parts that didn't want to come off, but then decided it wasn't the best time to tell you that, "I almost lost my mind when I couldn't hear you," he confessed, his tone regaining its sincerity, the look in his optics describing his guilt to you without words.

He was referring to the moment he was so desperately trying to silence everything around him just to be able to find your heartbeat.

"I'm okay..." Your tone was soft, quiet, as if you were trying not to scare a lost, disoriented puppy.

"You're not okay," he disagreed with a slightly clenched jaw, angry at himself, not even for a second at you, "You..." He lowered himself so that he'd be able to whisper to you, as if saying these words more loudly would make them come true someday, "You almost died... I almost killed you..."

His face panel was close enough to your body for you to put your hand against his warm, metal cheek. Mirage immediately melted at the touch, his optics closing slowly just to allow him to savour the softness of your palm as much as he could.

"It wasn't your fault..." you started your monologue, this time the robot allowing you to continue, "I didn't die. I might have a broken bone or two..." He opened his eyes at this sentence, giving you a sad look. "...But I'll be alright. I didn't die," you repeated, which gained you an unsure nod from your boyfriend, who was now avoiding making eye contact with you.

You didn't force him to look up at you.

"I promise..." he trailed off, not wanting to show you how weak he felt, "I promise I'll never do that again..." His gaze went back to meet yours as you smiled softly, your eyes filled with love you had for him. "I'll never be dumber than a hairdryer, you have my unreliable word. And I'll never argue with you. I'll just say that I'm sorry, and that my woman is always right, and I'll shut up for as long as you want me to. And I... I'll never drive over twenty-five. Yeah, it hurts. But guess what hurts more. Seeing you with a broken bone or two."

Joking might've been the only way he would be able to overcome the sorrow he felt within himself. But it worked both for you and him. You really wouldn't have it any other way.

"Tell me," you whispered with a slight head tilt, slowly closing the gap between your faces.

He frowned, not understanding what you meant by that, but then the small smirk on your lips explained it to him.

He rolled his optics, the remains of guilt still evident in them, although with every passing second and every joke, they seemed to disappear bit by bit.

"'m sorry. My woman is always right," he repeated himself, pretending to find it very boring, as if he didn't really want to admit that. But he did. He did want you to know that he meant every single thing that rolled off his glossa.

Your smile widened immediately, your eyes closing as you minimized the gap between your and Mirage's lips completely.

And then, after long weeks of not being able to forgive himself for hurting the only woman he loved, he was finally able to feel relief.

[somekirbyhater]

OTEMPES IS REEEALLLL

I’m so sorry for not getting him done waaaay earlier this month. I didn’t have the motivation

suggested by:

Group photo!!!

don't worry I'm currently working on the script of the To Trap Town comic ;)

link to part one below

p.s expect some changes… a lot of them since I’m still learning this comic thingy

[glitterslittleuniverse]

Hey!! hope you're doing well

now that all svt members have done the artist collection thingy, I'm very curious about you think the girls would come up with. 💙

Hello 👋 oh my goodness I love what the members created for the Artist-Made Collection. I wish I could buy all of them but unfortunately I can't even buy one 😭 I've been thinking about what the girls would create and here is what I've come up with.

Haerim made a tote bag that comes in two colours, simple black or white. The design is also very simple, with her signature in the bottom right corner in her favourite colour, blue. It's large in size so fans can fit a lot into the bag.

She also made a set of three little pins. Each one she designed herself. A leaf, for her love of nature. A music note for her love of music and dance. And a diamond, for her love of Seventeen and Carats. Each have her name engraved on the back.

Zora created a pencil case. Available in two colour options, soft pink or mint green. The end of the zipper is the shape of a Z.

Continuing the theme of art the second item Zora made was a sketch book. Like a large hard cover book, it is filled with 200 blank pages. The cover comes is a serenity and rose quartz gradient, which she chose being the groups official colours. On the inside of the hard front cover she has left a message. "These pages are a place you can fill with your deepest emotions, release your wild imagination and dream your big dreams." She wrote this message in Korean, English and Japanese, it is printed in her own handwriting.

Sage, with her love of exercise decided to do a yoga mat. It comes in either a dark purple or black, in one corner is a flower symbol resembling a sage blossom (which she designed herself).

Her second item is a metal drink bottle. Again coming in either black or purple. It's simple in design with the same flower symbol along with her name at the bottom.

Sunnies first item is a bucket hat. It comes in bright yellow or light blue. On the rim there is a little sun that she designed.

Inspired by her representative animal, her second item is a small yellow chick plush toy. The little chick wears a mini version of the bucket hat she designed (the blue one), adding a bit of Sunnies swag. She named it Byeong-Seo.

Thank you so much for your ask. What do you think of the items the girls created. Should I write the behind episodes for each of the girls?

Which one would you buy?

(Pictures are not mine and are only used are visual examples.)

[bookwormscififan]

It's Not A Euphemism If Mad Says It

Read on AO3!

A/N: I was talking with @iamvegorott yesterday about baking pies in fanfiction, and I had this idea of Mad not knowing the meaning of a certain step in the recipe and going to ask the twins about it. And of course, the twins need a moment to get more context.

--

Mare and Phantom were enjoying a rare afternoon of peace and quiet, sitting on opposite sides of the couch with their own things to work on, when Mad stepped into the room.

“What’s docking?”

Mare blinked at Mad’s question, slowly lifting his head to look at his boyfriend before tilting it in slight confusion. Phantom, on the other hand, almost choked on his mouthful of coffee, spluttering before turning to look at the scientist.

“Dear heart, I’m going to need some context here,” Mare said slowly, setting his work aside as he waited for Mad to explain. He shot his twin a glare when Phantom gave him an incredulous look, eyes saying that Phantom’s mind was in the completely wrong place.

“I wanted to bake a pie,” Mad began, not noticing Mare’s look of relief as he continued his explanation. “A blackberry pie, with the leftover shortcrust pastry you’d gotten from Phan, but the recipe mentioned ‘docking’ and I didn’t know what it meant. Judging from Phan’s reaction, I assume it’s another word with a double meaning?”

���Don’t worry about that, darling,” Mare said with a chuckle, flashing Mad his signature smile. “The recipe is basically telling you to make small holes in the base of the pie crust so that it’s got airflow when you blind bake it. I do know how pastry works,” he added with a pointed look at Phantom, getting an eyeroll in return.

“Why’d you want to bake a pie, anyway?” Phantom asked, tilting his head as he looked at Mad. “Is there some obscure anniversary of yours I’ve failed to remember? Is this an experiment to find out Mare’s favourite dessert flavours?”

“Oh, he doesn’t need to experiment that,” Mare scoffed with a mischievous smirk. “He knows what I like for dessert better than anyone.” He grinned when Mad squeaked, cheeks dusting red.

“Okay, gross,” Phantom retorted, cutting off Mare’s protest about himself and Jackie. “Mad, why are you baking a pie? And do you want some help?” He put aside his own work, ready to leave the conversation if Mad needed his help.

“I think I’m good,” Mad replied, twisting the sleeves of his jumper around his hand. “Do I need a specific tool to make the holes in the pastry, or can I just use a fork?” He asked, looking past Phantom at Mare with curious eyes.

“I mean, there is a roller thingy with spikes to do it,” Mare stated, pulling his work back onto his lap. “I just use a fork, though. You don’t need to make any specific patterns, just make sure there are enough holes for airflow.”

“And a tip?” Phantom called as Mad left the room, holding a finger up as an idea struck him. “Add a little bit of cinnamon into the filling.”

----

“I don’t get it,” Jackie stated, staring blankly at Phantom as he sat at the table that evening. “What did you think that could have made Mare so upset with you?”

“I’ll give you a clue,” Mare chuckled, giving Mad an adoring smile when the scientist came by with the pie. “Phan was filling out incident reports for his bar. I believe he was specifically filling out the form for the desk you both broke.”

Phantom shot Mare a look as Jackie flushed, opening his mouth to speak before Mad interrupted him by clearing his throat, face anxious as he set the pie on the table.

“They say baking is a science,” Mad began, flashing a nervous smile before picking up a knife. “I don’t know if I did this completely right, but I did make a pie that looks like a pie, so I think that’s something. Phan asked me earlier why I wanted to make a pie, and at the time I didn’t have an answer.”

Mare watched as Mad carefully cut the pie into four big slices, gently dishing them onto plates, and he reached across the table to touch his hand lightly when Mad’s face fell slightly at the pie deflating. He offered Mad a sympathetic smile, giving a slight nod to assure him that the sunken slice on the plate wasn’t his own fault, feeling his heart flutter when Mad gave him a grateful smile in return.

“I wanted to make a pie mostly to see if I could,” he began again, handing out the plates before sitting beside Mare. “I want to be able to make Mare things without asking Phan for help. So far, all I can make is cookies and coffee for Mare, but I want to eventually be able to just treat him with things.”

“Hey, you know you treat Mare no matter what you do!” Jackie exclaimed, taking a mouthful of pie and pulling a face, swallowing his bite before forcing a smile. “This pie is great, Mad.” There were tears in his eyes, and his death-grip on Phantom’s hand contradicted his compliment.

“I’m sure Mare doesn’t mind what type of treat you give him,” Phantom added with a smirk, motioning toward the heart eyes that Mare was giving Mad. “You are honestly the best guy for him, anyway.”

Mare gave Mad a whispered thanks before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, digging into the pie and pausing after taking a bite. Draping an arm around Mad’s shoulders, he held him close as he continued to eat, ignoring the surprised looks of his brother and Jackie as he rested his head on top of Mad’s.

“I know Phan said to add cinnamon,” he said to Mad, glance flicking up toward Phantom as he moved his food around with his fork, “But maybe you could use a little less cinnamon next time, and a little more sugar. And also, you know full well you’re my favourite treat,” he added in a whisper into Mad’s ear, smiling when he blushed bright red.

“I don’t want to know what you told him, because I’m sure it’s grossly cliched,” Phantom groaned, taking Jackie’s hand and getting up from the table, holding his slice of pie in his free hand. “We’re going home. You two continue being sickeningly sweet without me here, otherwise I’ll puke on your table.”

“The only thing sickeningly sweet about us is that you’re leaving us three slices of pie,” Mare retorted, laughing as Phantom sent himself and Jackie away before turning back to Mad. “Thank you for experimenting, dearest.” When Mad smiled at him, he leaned forward to kiss him, letting Mad taste the blackberry filling on his tongue as he held him close.

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

@brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons @rattyboyisemo

[never-enough-novels]

BOO. did you think this was a request? HAHA. sorry to dissapoint.

Hi. This is your WE ARE NOW MOOTS mail/post/thingie. No, this is not optional. Everyone gets one. Especially you (bc you signed up for this duh). anyways. another moot added to my collection >:D

although you could pretend this is a request. ig. anyways.

please sign here__Avi____

woah. you signed it. that was quick and totally not forged. Now that this is done, here are some perks to our deal. It lasts forever. . Hmm. the system seems to be glitching.

Anyways. here are some perks to entering this deal

Perks: you get ot call me when you're at war. and join my taglist/mootlist. and i collect you like i collect my garden gnomes. i dont collect garden gnomes but you get the point.

Bad Perks: inboxes. lots of inboxes. most of them unfortuantely will not be requests since i know you do that.

congrats. you just sealed the deal!!!! *new moot unlocked*

What a signature!! That is an excellent forgery darling I must say. I'll call you at war ANYTIME SO BE PREPARED AND YOU GET TO CALL ME TOO SJKDJDDJD

Babe pls I'll begging you. Fill my inbox as much as you want. That is not a bad perk AT ALL

HELOOOO NEW MOOTIE

[miguelillusion]

so I did it. Yipeeeeeee.

UPDATE: I changed the eye style a bit bc I didn't like the other one :[

"Why hello there!" He approaches you enthusiastically. It was a startling presence. "Are you lost 'ere too, buddy? Well, guess what? I am too! So we're lost together!" He points up his finger, then begins to search in his bag. He pulls out a glass bottle with a light, periwinkle blue liquid inside. He holds it out to you, "Look, friend. You ain't gonna get very far without some protection, and from the looks of it, you have near to nothing! So, here. My gift to you." You hesitate. He laughs, "Don't worry! I've got my own already." This boy shows his left hip. There are two more bottles, one red, one black, hung on his belt. You decide to take the bottle in his hand. It's cold.

"Wait. One thing," he says, "Use that sparingly. We don't want any..." He coughs, "Trouble, y'know?"

You nod. He smirks, "Good, you understand." He holds his hand out for a high five, "Now let's go get out of here, what d'ya say?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeesssss I did the DTIYS for Yasur.

This little guy's name is shArd. He used to be an elemental master of Amethyst, but he was stripped of that when he was Spellbound. Instead, he weilds two elemental bottles: fire (because of his culture's connections with it), and earth (core of where his element stems from).

Now for outfit design (dear first master)

shArd is sensitive to specific clothing options. Which is why you would often find him in sweats or really short shorts. Hence, i made the outfit more revealing. I split the skirt thingy down the middle, and did not add a cape. He believes it impacts his agility. He always adds fingerless gloves to everything. It's his little signature. Then there are the little charms (on his hat and the sleeve. He added these for aesthetic purposes, along with something just to hold. Added a little transparent sleeve. He likes his outfit content simple; nothing too bulky.

His wepon is a staff, but guess what. Ooh. It can become two baby daggers.

Base/Concept Art:

Sorry for terrible quality, I think clicking will make it better (that's what everyone else says).

But uhh yeah this was fun.

[deeisace]

Oh! Oh the other thing that happened today,,,

Parcel delivery man needs my name and signature for him collecting the parcels, and he remembers me from last time, so he goes, "you're miss [surname], right?"

And I'm brave for once in my life, or just more incredibly fed up than I usually am, so I go "nope! Mr!"

and he goes, "oh, sorry, it's just your voice is so high" me: yeah I know, easy mistake to make (fuckofffuckofffuckoff) him: "I bet you get that all the time, I'm sorry to have added to it", enters my title correctly on the app form thingy, fucks off with the parcels

[solar-is-eclipsed]

finished the Ayano fanart thingy. one has cool lighting and the other one doesn't in case you wanted to know what they both look like ( you probably didn't but I added it anyways.) i wanted to render the face but I gave up so it looks extra iffy. Not entirely proud of this piece but its cool regardless :3

P.S. i hide my signature/name in my finished pieces so it doesn't take away from the art just in case you were worried <33

[aviiarie]

FURINA'S WIFE ANON!!!!! IS HERE!!!!!!!! with a long tangent of stuff probably ARGH MY CONDOLENCES IN ADVANCE

this is . Adding to the post about whose bed would be comfy becAUSE I SAW FURINA MENTION WAHOO MY CHANCE TO SHINE!!!!!!

10/10 comfiness from me (i am 100% totally unbiased! Entirely!) because i feel like she'd definitely have ten million plushies . and not just drowning her bed until you can't see the mattress but literally everywhere in her room. There Is No Way She Doesn't. the plushies themselves provide. so much. and she has tea parties with them and all and OHHH MY GOD I HAVE IDEAS ABOUT DATES WITH HER... SITTING AT THE TINIEST TABLE YOU'VE EVER SEEN WITH HER AND HER PLUSHIES..... TEA TIMING IT UP.... WAAAAHHHH WAAAAHHHHH STILL THINKING ABOUT THE ANGST YOU HAVE INJECTED INTO US WAAAHHHHHHHHH

i am a shriveled up grape shell of the untouched. innocent version. of myself before i read that fic. happiness no longer comes naturally.

ALSO ACK THATS GENUINELY SO UPSETTING THAT TUMBLR THREW IT INTO THE VOID. LIKE LITERALLY WHY. got a notif when you made a post about it and went to go check most recent under furina x reader and for sure, it wasn't there :[ ACTUALLY SUCKS SO BAD because reading it you can really tell how much work was written into it and just AGRGHHHHHH sucks sucks sucks... it's wonderful to know that we're any help at all, if that's possible in the slightest :'D so sorry that happened but but for whatever it's worth it was an amazing read and just. So. Fantastic. there's not nearly enough words of enough strength that could possibly describe it juust oohkh my god I STILL CAN'T GET OVER THE PEARL NECKLADCE HEART SNIFFLE SNIFF AARHRHGBGJNGNN

because she would want to do that. furina would want to house you, the most important of anything to her, right over the source of the blood coursing in her body. it pulses, and the first thing it meets is you before travelling throughout the rest of her. just as she would have no life without it, both literally and metaphorically, she has no life without you.

sorry sorry sorry again EEK it's my first time being like a. designated anon. if that makes sense. with like my own little name and signature tag ARGH DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S CALLED But The Name Tag Thingie. AND I'M SO EXCITED TO SHARE MY THOUGHTS WITH YOU HEHEHEHEHEH i feel very not judged here this is wonderful

THANK YOU SINCERELY FOR THE FOREHEAD KISSES!!!!! HUGS YOU VERY TIGHTLY UNTIL LIFE FORCE IS SQUEEZED OUT although not too much because that would be akin to exploding which we do NOT want AND THEN FINISHING BLOWS WITH A SEPARATE FOREHEAD KISS BECAUSE I AM SO SIGMA!!!!!! WAHOO!!!!!!

SIGNED . WITH LOVE . FURINA'S WIFE ANON. WAHHAHAHAHA

okay you've convinced me. i amend my previous statement, furina's bed is now a 10/10 in my books. YOU'RE SO RIGHT THOUGH???? she would have so many plushies, all in different sizes and styles just scattered across her bed. and every single one of them is named, and she never forgets what they're called; the little white swan is blanche, the big fluffy cat is mademoiselle chat, the blue otter is little neuvillette.... etc. etc. DATES WITH THEM WOULD BE SO CUTEEEE LIKE LITTLE PICNICS TOO WHERE SHE SETS OUT FOOD FOR ALL OF THEM.... imagine if she set up little puppet shows with them too, just making wild stories and acting them out with her plushies... that would be adorable :O

IM SORRYYYYY i'll write some happy fluff for furina soon. promise 🤞

BUT RIGHT??????? like damn, tumblr. i know pride month was in june, but that doesn't mean you have to throw a perfectly good lesbian in the void. the positive response i've got on it has made up for it though, so thank you again. at least it wasn't a total waste of energy :")

YES YES YOU GET IT!!!! that's exactly what i was going for with the fic, furina wants to keep you close, she wants you close to your heart, she just isn't ready to accept why. you are what is keeping her alive, the thing keeping her going. without you..... AUGHHHH YOU GET ME SO MUCH!!!!

and no no no apologies!!! i'm thrilled to see you in my inbox again :DDD i love all of my lovely designated anons, everyone is welcome to share their thoughts here!! there is no judgement, only incoherent rambling about our favourite characters HAHAHA

HUGGING YOU BACK!!!! WAHOOO!!!

[asunas-junk-drawer]

gonna be adding 🧸💌💄 to the whatever it is thingies for the satiritical bcuz it used to be signature for back when i ran a smut fanfic blog n would post abt my favs getting fucked lol

[author-of-kimyona]

so the design process for each character is very lengthy, and added with now getting ready for college, it's taking a bit a LOT longer than expected to finish every character's designs.

BUT. i do have the base sketches finished for 3 characters that I'm proud of

Kimyōna:

i decided to give her a more rugged look. her life wasn't that easy, and I wanted for her clothing to reflect that. i still wanted to make her look cool-and maybe a bit dystopian-so I reflected that in her design as well.

here's a closeup of her profile because it's kind of hard to see in the initial photo

Ami Himura:

this isn't her final look, but I still wanted to share this to show my design process. she still has a sailor uniform-esque outfit on, but I also gave her a letterman jacket that hangs off her shoulders and a sleeveless top underneath. the belt connecting her skirt and her top is made of metal to give it a more futuristic look. the middle of her belt has a heart on it <3. she still has her hair and signature bow because I love it

because of story reasons, i changed it (no you will not know why. that will be spoilers >:()

I wanted to Ami's outfit to fit a more traditional look, but still have the ✨Ami flare✨. But I didn't know how I would go about it, so I tried combining different pieces of traditional Japanese attire to see what would work. i settled with a combination of a haori and a michiyuki, and this seemed to work the best as being both traditional and appealing to Ami's character.

It's main color is blue because it's her favorite color (and I color coded Ami to be blue at the very beginning) and I added some pink accents and added some red flowers because it looks nice (Ami's surname "Himura" literally translates to "dark red village" so the flowers work there too). her belt is less traditional and is more similar to our modern belts but I think it works here.

now here's Ami with her new fit :D

I also made her face and body type less mature to fit her age and personality

Indigo Jelani:

my notes aren't lying when I say that I loved designing her

her appearance didn't change too much from what y'all may have seen in my previous posts, but there are some stuff that are worth mentioning.

her scarf is not attached to her top. it's its own thing! i also gave it a more ombre pattern-going dark to light-and the rest of her outfit is going to reflect the same way in the future. i gave her shirt longer sleeves that just go down to below her elbow. she no longer has a turtleneck and instead had a u-collar thingy (don't know what to call it). her shorts now have a flower pattern, but I'm still trying to find what flowers they should be.

here's a closer look at her profile since it's harder to see in the initial photo. forgot to mention that her scarf has a clasp in the front

i lied. here's my process of trying to create a cuter design for Jelly:

i made this a while back and y'all probably seen it in my sneek peak of redesigning everyone, but I thought I'd share it now. i want Jelly to be less annoying but still charming. i basically experimented with shapes until i found a combination that made me happy, then finished the character from there

[roseverdict]

drops this here and runs lmao

〜

Splinter was jolted awake by a crashing sound, followed by multiple unfamiliar voices.

"Ughhh…what'd that thingy do? My head hurts."

He scrambled from his chair and bolted for the voices.

They were coming from the boys' room.

"Well, if you'd been listening to me, you'd know we should have teleported to April's house! Considering the fact that someone decided to switch out my fuel source, though, who knows where we ended up?"

Splinter hadn't attempted to use any of his childhood training in a couple years, but silence still came to him almost too easily as he approached the boys' room.

"Ack! My phone's being all weird when I try to check my texts! Guess letting Apes or CJ know we're having a problem is off the table. Greeeat."

"Can somebody turn on the lights? I've got color vision, not night vision!"

Splinter tried to assure himself that, while he could barely make out anything of what the teenaged voices were saying, what little he did understand seemed to point to them unintentionally arriving in his home rather than purposefully breaking in where his boys were napping.

…somehow.

His tail darted into the room and flicked the light switch.

The voices all squawked at the sudden light, but Splinter just froze.

His eyesight had yet to recover fully from his mutation, but even the blurry shapes and colors were enough to light a fire in him.

They were big. Far too big.

It was impossible.

The four large turtle shapes scrambled upright, and Splinter found himself staring at each of them in shock.

The largest of them, standing easily head and shoulders above Splinter's original height, back when he could still call himself Lou Jitsu, with a unique little snaggletooth in the corner of his mouth, and wearing a red bandana over his head like a traditional Hamato warrior.

The smallest of them, just a few inches shorter than Splinter was now but with stickers decorating his plastron that were familiar in the way the colors popped, even if Splinter had never actually seen the stickers themselves before, and with an orange mask tied around his eyes and ending in a bow.

The two in-between their brothers' heights, one with red markings peeking out from a blue mask and standing with a fake nonchalance, the other with a purple bandana and metallic goggles shifted up onto his head.

"My boys…? What…?" Splinter breathed.

For their part, the four turtles all shared a wince.

Purple frowned and inspected a glowing panel hovering by his forearm. "Hm. You know, after Casey first showed up, we probably should have expected more time travel to be on the agenda. In retrospect, I'm shocked it took this long."

"Wait, wait, waitwaitwait, real time travel?" asked Blue in disbelief. "Not some sort of trip down mystic memory lane, but actual time travel?"

"Affirmative," Purple said.

Orange got a starry-eyed look to his face that only hammered home that these were definitely Splinter's sons. "Coooool…"

"Mikey, you're forbidden from trying your mystic hands to get us back to the present unless we've all agreed there's no other option," said Red with finality, as if pre-emptively cutting off the idea.

"Seconded," added Blue. "Definitely a last resort only sorta dealie, there."

Orange saluted. "Aye-aye, capitáns!"

"So…it's really you?" Splinter asked, looking between the boys as the realization fully hit. "Wait- where are the babies?"

"Babies?!" Red squeaked.

The four looked around in shock for a moment, then Blue swallowed. "Well, the good news is, I don't think we squished 'em. Er, us."

Purple was already consulting his glowing panel again. "If my readings are correct- and they're my readings, of course they're correct- then it looks like when my equipment surged and sent us back, it also brought four ninpo signatures forward that are identical to ours, save for their miniscule size and unawakened status."

"So we swapped?" asked Orange.

Purple nodded. "Correct."

Instantly, the boys relaxed, and Red turned to Splinter. "You- uh, well, our you- was with us when the accident happened, just a bit further away. He oughta be aware of the swap and able to get Baby Us out of Donnie's lab and somewhere he can keep an eye on us. I think we're as safe as we can be."

"Aside from the inevitable mass of blackmail photos that April takes once she realizes she can dress Baby Us up in every single overly-adorable outfit she can find," Blue moaned.

Splinter frowned thoughtfully. "You've mentioned that name twice now, this 'April.' Who is she?"

Blue took out a small rectangle- clearly, this was his 'phone,' though it was nowhere near as blocky as the phones Splinter saw humans carrying these days- and tapped at it for a moment, then turned it to face him. "She's the one Mikey's squished up next to here."

Splinter took the device and inspected the massive display.

Shown in full color was a photo of what could only be himself and his boys, lit by the golden rays of sunrise. Or possibly sunset- it was difficult to tell.

Also featured prominently were two humans Splinter did not recognize in the slightest. One was dressed in a cloak and a mask that was flipped away from his face, and he and Blue had arms over each other's shoulders.

The other had, indeed, squished her cheek up next to Orange's, both of them beaming.

The version of himself in the photo was older and grayer (and shorter…and plumper…), but he was smiling in such a way that Splinter realized he knew about the humans' proximity to his boys and was glad for it.

"How old are Baby Us? We should probably know before we say anything else too indicative of events that have yet to pass for you, since we didn't come back in time with the intent to change it," Purple explained, cutting off that train of thought.

Splinter turned his attention away from Blue's device and looked up at his sons. "Orange is one, Blue and Purple are two, and Red, you're three."

"Overly-adorable baby outfits," repeated Blue in a horrified whisper.

"Fourteen years back, eh?" Purple said at the same time. "Not particularly ideal, but I can work with that."

Fourteen years…so that meant Orange was fifteen, and the others were a year or two older than even that.

Splinter handed Blue back his oddly-thin phone, then looked, really looked, at the boys.

Purple stood stiffly, his eyes never leaving the panel on his arm as he tapped away. Part of it was just his natural way of motion, Splinter was sure, but occasionally he would shift in place and wince, as if his shell rubbed up against something he disliked. Yet he was only wearing armor accented in his trademark color- most likely of his own design. Curious.

There was a shimmering patch in Red's carapace, just over his left shoulder, and there was a scar along that very shoulder that seemed to have come from the same injury. Additionally, Red's right eye seemed to have a hard time focusing in sync with his left whenever he turned his head.

Blue seemed the worst off, in terms of how many physical injuries he seemed to have. The faintest rings of bruising dotted his skin between yellowish crescents that more closely resembled natural coloration. Hairline cracks spread from multiple places in his plastron, thin enough to clearly be already on the mend but numerous enough for Splinter's heart to skip a beat.

Even Orange had not escaped whatever-had-happened unscathed. Scarring in a geometric pattern that Splinter could have recognized in his sleep extended from his fingers all the way up to his elbows, and with a minute gasp, Splinter realized that Red and Purple each had an arm with matching scars.

And Orange's hands trembled, even as he smiled and seemed completely happy.

Orange loved to work with his hands, even as small as he was supposed to be.

Splinter didn't realize he'd taken Orange's hands in his own until he was already folding the boy's fingers back to steady them.

"Pops…?" asked Red quietly.

Splinter swallowed. "Oh, my sons…what has happened to you?"

I am in the need of an au/fic in which the rottmnt boys switch places with their kid selves

I mean post movie, overly traumatized mystic teenage turtle boys switching places with small kids who have no idea what's a head of them

I really want to see past splinter be fucking broken when he learns about all the shit his son's have gone through. He'd probably feel like he failed, he failed to protect them from his family legacy, he failed to keep them safe from all of the shit the world put them through, he'd probably have a full break down because of it

Meanwhile present splinter is enjoying the presence of his younger boys while also bieng mildly concerned for his older ones

Also we need draxum to hang out with the tots no exceptions

[najikasunart]

“Standing upright in the soil, limbs of bone and cloth and a face like static.”