#next part will be up tomorrow!!

[satelarry]

fellow travelers x don't speak by no doubt.

[royalarchivist]

Over 6 years ago, Technoblade and Etoiles played together on United UHC. Although they never got to meet each other on the QSMP, it's nice to see that they already had some nice banter and a fun dynamic developing during the brief time they knew each other. Here are some highlights from the video where they played together!

Subscribe to Technoblade! Technoblade's United UHC video

[ Part 1 || Part 2 || Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

-

Technoblade: Bonjour, mis amis! (Hello, my friends!) Oh god, we already have a zombie on us. No! It's targeting me 'cuz I have subs!

Etoiles: Excellent teammates.

Technoblade: Do trees spawn in these worlds?

Etoiles: [Laughing at a screenshot of Technoblade saying "deforestation has gotten pretty bad"]

Technoblade: It's gotten pretty bad, man. What is this?

Etoiles: B-bonjour.

Technoblade: Stop speakin' Chinese.

Etoiles: You're the best Skywars player, dude. That's why.

Technoblade: That doesn't mean much.

Technoblade: Oh my god, I found diamonds!

Etoiles: Oh, whoa.

Technoblade: Subscribe to Technoblade! I'm suddenly a UHC god.

Etoiles: Oh, I got diamonds too! :D

Technoblade: ...Wow, way to ruin my moment. Wow. Can I just have this one moment?

Etoiles: Yeah.

Technoblade: Does everything- does everything need to be a competition? First diamonds I've ever mined in Minecraft.

Etoiles: Let's redo it, Techno. Let's say I don't have diamonds. I don't have diamonds, you have-

Teammate: I found diamonds!

Technoblade: Oh my god.

Technoblade: I have seven diamonds! And I'm not saying that to one-up you, but- I mean I am, but I mean I'm- I'm also tellin' the truth.

Teammate: Nobody knows which one of you guys is the mole.

Technoblade: Yeah, that's gonna be very awkward.

Etoiles: Maybe Technoblade is already-

Technoblade: I'm right behind you.

Etoiles: Technoblade is already saying to his friend-

Technoblade: I'm already in the Mole chat, plannin' your death.

Etoiles: Like, I'm kind of scared of Technoblade, actually.

Technoblade: I'm not even good, why would you be scared of me?

Etoiles: Because you're the King of Bedwars.

Technoblade: Alright, ok, ok, so here's how it works- I get paid per episode, right? So I'm not gonna betray you on Episode 2.

Etoiles: [Laughs]

Technoblade: Now let me enchant.

Etoiles: I'm so bad at hearing sound because when I'm hearing lava-

Technoblade: Nah, it's 'cuz the sounds are in French, isn't it?

Etoiles: [Laughs] I'm gonna kill you, bro.

Technoblade: No!

Etoiles: [Laughs] I'm gonna kill you.

[cubbihue]

Chimmy! Mr Turner, sir, your tie is loose. It’s always a bit loose. Hm. Not very professional…

Haha, oh Timmy! Always so sloppy!!! It’s a good thing his parents are there to help shape him up again! What a shame that he’s moving away from them. Who’ll keep Timmy Turner in line now??

Ah, well. I'm sure someone else will fill in that role. We can't let our changeling go about without supervision after all!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[accirax]

with many people speculating that the identity of the culprit will finally come to light next episode and many theories running abound, i'd like to make a masterlist of all of the theories people have written out guessing who the culprit will be. that includes the main murder of Arei, the attempt on Ace, and any theories synthesizing the two. i think it would be fun to read up on before the episode, and fun to look back at once all is said and done :D

so, if you've made a theory speculating about the murder, please leave a comment on this post (preferably with a link to the theory)! i'll only be adding the theories of those who comment on the post, just so that i don't accidentally make anyone feel excluded/highlight someone's post that doesn't want to be shouted out.

all i ask is that you only submit whatever the most current version of your theory per character/combination of characters. for instance, if you wrote a theory based on the evidence from part 1, but wrote a new version taking into account what happened in episode 12 or 13, i'm only going to add the newer one. if you only have a version from part 1, though, that's fine!

(also, for all theoretical theorists out there, a reminder that i made an episode guide that breaks down all the episodes into easier-to-find sections. i just updated it for 2-13!)

[osamusriceballs]

Last-Minute Plans

Ushijima x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW (cockwarming, rather soft)

Words: ~ 1,5 k

About: Wakatoshi got a ring for you, and he needs to make sure it fits.

A/n: Happy Birthday to our beloved Wakatoshi-kun~

"It fits,"

he mumbles with a sigh of relief, one he hadn't realized he was holding. He looks contently at the jewelry now adorning your ring finger.

Ushijima knows that he's late with this. He should have attempted this plan a long time ago; he despises last-minute actions. Lately, however, you've insisted on waiting until he returns home late from practice due to extended training sessions just before the crucial match, making it impossible for him to secretly slip that ring onto your finger to see if it fits. He's aware he hasn't been giving you the time you deserve lately, but he's determined to make it up as soon as he can. He intends to spoil you as soon as the match is over and his schedule finally allows him to have more free time, treating you like the princess you are.

He had nearly abandoned the idea of trying the ring on your finger. He considered simply hoping for the best, planning to alter the ring quickly after proposing if it didn't fit. He knows you wouldn't have minded, but he wanted this moment to be perfect. The first difficulty he had encountered, however, was that you had rings in various sizes in your jewelry box- probably for different fingers, but even after sorting through them, he was still not convinced that he chose the right size.

Relief washes over him as he sees the ring fitting comfortably, and for a short moment, he envisions your future together. He dreams of having you sleep beside him every night, of going on the vacation you've always dreamed of, and of giving you the beautiful wedding ceremony you've always wanted. He's already asked Tendou to be his best man and informed his parents of his plans. He even decided to send his father a notice that his son will be getting married soon—hopefully.

The ring looks stunning on your hand. It's noticeable yet subtly elegant. He's confident you'll love it; you've often praised his taste, describing him as simple in his choices, which you adore.

His gaze drifts to your peaceful sleeping form. You must be exhausted not to have woken up yet. Normally, you'd wait until he returns or awaken when he quietly lies down beside you, an act he's yet to master. You'd always greet him with a tender kiss, a gesture he cherishes most during his days and misses the most when he's away. Yet, you sleep soundly, your face soft, breathing steady. You're wearing one of his shirts, the old Shiratorizawa jersey you claim is the comfiest—adorable on you, he agrees.

He's fairly certain you're wearing only flimsy panties beneath, but he'll take his sweet time tomorrow to explore every inch of your body.

"Toshi," your sleepy voice pulls him from his daydreams, and he quickly hides the ring, clutching your hand in his. You stir, turning towards him, brows furrowing as you reach out blindly.

"Y/n, go back to sleep. It's late," he murmurs in a soothing tone, knowing you find his voice calming.

"I missed you," you groan, squinting your eyes as you try to make out his face in the dimly lit room.

"I missed you too," he replies, smiling softly and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. You smile in return, bringing your free hand to his cheek, a bit clumsily—almost slapping his face, but he doesn't mind; he is simply happy having you close.

"You haven't shaved today," you mumble as you caress his cheek. He hums in response. "I forgot. Does it bother you?"

"No, it doesn't. But you never forget to shave. What was on your mind today?"

You, he thinks, but for once, he refrains from sharing his thoughts. He needs to distract you, to take back the ring unnoticed. How you haven't noticed it so far surprises him.

"I was thinking about…" he begins, his voice trailing off, unsure how to respond without you getting suspicious.

"Wakatoshi, come to bed. You seem really tired," you yawn, and he suddenly knows what he needs to do.

Ushijima leans down to kiss you again, this time deepening the kiss with more passion. He feels your response, your body arching into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his.

"Toshi," you're already breathless after a few kisses, and he finally feels your hand relax, fingers intertwining with his with the metal still on your finger. He typically holds your hand more firmly, but now he keeps his grip gentle, ensuring you don't feel the ring on your finger. With his free hand, he traces the hem of your shirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric, encountering the softness of your skin.

"Want you, but I'm tired," you whisper against his lips, prompting him to nuzzle against your neck. "Should I pleasure you? Should I make you feel full?" You moan softly and weakly nod, your eyes barely open in the dark room. Unbeknownst to you, a wave of relief washes over him. This may not be going exactly as he planned, but making love to you with the ring already on your finger is better than he could have imagined.

He quickly runs through potential scenarios in which he could smoothly slide the ring off your finger, deciding to position himself behind you while maintaining a hold on your hand in front of your body. Shifting his body weight, he maneuvers behind you until his chest presses against your back. He skillfully settles beneath the blanket without releasing your hand, making sure not to tighten his grip around your fingers. His lips find your neck, where he places the gentlest kisses against your skin, earning the softest, most beautiful moans from your lips. His hips begin to rhythmically move against your backside, and he feels how he hardens in his pants.

You contently hum while you lean into his touch, raising one leg to allow him to slip his thigh between yours. "Feels good," you murmur as he starts a grinding motion against your pussy. He feels his growing need, a nearly instinctive response to your body. His earlier suspicion about you wearing only his shirt and panties appears accurate; that much he notices when his shorts ride up and his bare thigh grinds against your cunt. As much as he wants the feeling of your bare skin against his, he knows that undressing might raise too much suspicion. Instead, he guides his free hand downward, gently tracing circles against your clothed center.

"You're so perfect. So beautiful. I love you so much," he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder in his arms. Your grip on his hand tightens, while your other hand softly clutches the sheets. He understands your needs. Grateful that he's still wearing the soft shorts, he pushes them down slightly, quickly freeing his cock.

"Should I use some lube?" he asks, concern lacing his voice, worried about hurting you since he hasn't fully prepared you yet—a truly challenging task when ensuring your hand remains held and he can only use one hand properly.

"Think I'm wet enough," you mumble, and he dips two fingers between your folds to confirm, and he is rewarded with enough arousal to forget about his worries.

As much as he wants to ravish you right now, he knows you would probably drift off to sleep if he makes love to you tenderly—so that's precisely what he does. He gently spreads your legs further with his thigh, allowing his cock to rest between your legs. It has almost become a routine for him to set aside your panties and gradually ease his cock inside you- a practice that you often do after he comes home late from his practice sessions.

A breathy moan escapes your lips at the stretch, and he feels his own body tensing at the sensation of your soft walls around him. He continues to push until he's fully inside of you. You always take him so well—it feels breathtaking to be buried deep inside you. He still hopes you'll succumb to sleep in this embrace, even though he's surely wide awake himself.

"Feels good," you hum, your breathing gradually returning to a steady rhythm. He pulls you closer, inhaling the soothing flowery scent of your hair- a scent that always brings him comfort and calms his mind when he can't seem to rest. You might not fully grasp how much he loves you—how every fiber of his being yearns for you, how he wishes for you to be happy and to be his. This is precisely why he plans to propose to you tomorrow and to place the ring back on your finger. You wouldn't refuse him on his birthday, would you?

"Sleep well, my love."

[sad-leon]

Welcome to the Shadow Leo au :D

It's a lotta text, but I don't know if I'll make a fic for this au. It'll probably be a lotta fics and doodles. Asks are encouraged :D

When Splinter explodes Draxum's lab, a crystal Draxum wanted to experiment that held a bunch of shadow power, dropped on Leo, fusing him into shadows. He can only appear where there is shadow, so he can't go outside alone or in really bright rooms.

He can choose whether to be visible or not in a shadow he occupies, so if he's around strangers, he stays hidden.

Because of all the light from the explosions, he hides in Donnie's shadow as Splinter leaves. He doesn't show himself to anyone outside of Donnie for a long time. It's only when they're toddlers that they speak. Leo's speaks first and scares the hell outta Donnie. His voice has a bit of an echo-reverb tone, but otherwise normal.

Donnie tries to show everyone, but eventually let's Leo explain that he's scared of meeting everyone. He grew up with Donnie, they know all about each other and their triggers and such. Leo doesn't have that familiarity with the others and he's scared of breaking down in front of them.

When Donnie brings April to the lair, Leo is excited at the prospect of meeting someone who is also an outsider. When she and Donnie hang out in the lab, Leo shows himself to her. She tries to punch him, she just bruises her knuckled on the wall. Over the years, April, Donnie, and Leo become an indestructible trio.

The fam still doesnt know about Leo when they break into Draxum's lab. Draxum immediatly notices Leo in the shadows and gathers all his mystic crystals to try and break his shadow powers. On of the crystals he hits Leo with grants him the ability to emerge from the walls, though his still looks all shadowy.

Leo still chooses to hide in Donnie's shadow, though he ventures out on his own a bit more now that he can hold swords and stuff. Leo still steals the odachi from Draxum, but his use of it is limited to only slicing, though if Donnie swings it, Leo can influence the portals if he's connected to Donnie's shadow.

[Sidenote: when the brother unlock their Ninpo, Leo unlocks his as well, granting him ability to use his portals himself. He can also do the funky teleportation thing.]

---

Leo's out on his own one night when he see's Usagi hanging around the turtle fam's lair. He appears to the rabbit and surprisingly, the rabbit doesnt freak out. Usagi and Leo are quick friends. Leo tells Donnie about Usagi and convinces Donnie to meat the rabbit and eventually, Usagi becomes an honorary turtle, just like April.

---

(Leo is still Casey's future sensei, but by then they had found something, a charm or a potion, that made him physical. When Casey asks about him, Donnie avoids eye contact, but everyone else is confused.)

(The key is snatched by the foot clan because Raph couldn't get to it fast enough. Leo tries to blame himself because if he wasn't so scared he could have used his portals to get it. Donnie won't let him blame himself, and neither will anyone else when they finally meet him.)

During the movie events, Leo connects to Raph's shadow when Mikey and Donnie get flung off. He makes himself physical and pushes Raph toward his brothers. He also snatches Raph's wrist comm. Raph is too panicked to consider what just happened and jumps off to catch his brothers.

He shouts for CJ to close the portal. Casey immediatly follows the command shouted by his sensei's voice before he can process it. Leo stays physical long enough to keep Kraang distracted, then ducks into the shadows.

With the whole Prison Dimension being basically one big shadow, Leo is able to stay hidden after the portal closes. He doesnt heal in the shadows, but his inuries don't worsen. It takes about a year until Leo finds his sword and portals himself home.

-

Donnie, April, and Usagi are all a fucking wreck in a way no one understands, no matter how much they explain Leo and his predicament. Raph explains that he was pushed by a shadow and Donnie breaks down on the spot. Because even though Leo would never meet the fam, he'd still sacrifice himself for them.

For months, Donnie begs Casey Jr to tell him how Future Mikey opened a portal, but CJ won't say anything past explaining how it killed Future Mikey.

Donnie doesn't stop looking for any sign of Leo, but after months he has no choice but to move on. Leo's sword was put in a glass, guarded case after Donnie tried to use it to portal to Leo.

Sometimes Donnie sits in a dark corner and talks to himself.

Then one day, the alarm attached to Leo's sword goes off. Everyone thinks it's Donnie trying to portal again, but they all rush in to see a shadowy Leo injured, on the ground. Donnie breaks down on the spot, but tries to pull himself together enough to help with bandaging what they can see of Leo's wounds.

Leo wakes up to his family around him and finally lets himself meet the rest of his brothers.

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

It's time for the fiend! Spoilers of course

For one, Syo here actually breaks the formula I have with these designs, Syo not really working or going out most of the time unless she's heavily disguised. However, I tried my best to ensure she was given some love! So, for her "casual" attire, it's rather simple looking. It's got some LORE though with Syo trying to reform from her murdering days and Komaru helping out in making this outfit! Most of the materials are just thrifted such as the boots with the rest being slightly modified. It holds up rather poorly and has it's flaws. However, Syo seems to like it. Toko, not so much. Toko finds it ugly, no matter how much Komaru tries to give her the puppy eyes, asking for Toko to give it a chance. I also want to take note the bracelet she has on as well as the hat. I thought it would also be cute if Komaru made her a little friendship bracelet. Toko also has one but she finds it childish to just be wearing it out an about (she's not really into much jewelry anyway). Thus, Toko just keeps it on her nightstand. Syo, however, fears nothing and has no shame. Speaking of which, the hat. I was a little lazy with the details but it is indeed one of those "Woman love me, Fish fear me" hats. Syo did the embroidery on it (Syo being oddly good with crochet and sewing) and Toko despises. And, the worst part is that Syo did an amazing job on it which makes Toko hate it even more whenever she ends up in it after Syo finishes fronting. Toko's at least a bit grateful though that Syo doesn't go out that much. Toko is already mortified waking up in the outfit. It'd be way worse to be waking up in one of the ugliest garments present in the apartment while in public. As for Syo's "work" attire, it's just Toko's attire for work with slight Syoifications (Jackifications?) made with the zipper being undone revealing a little pouch she has on, and sleaves rolled up. She even has Toko's purse worn slightly different as well! Thought it would be cute to do! Also, for the pouch, Her iconic scissors are absent, being held deep in a vault somewhere with Byakuya as a safety precaution. Syo doesn't mind too much though. For one, she knows they're safe even though she likes to joke that Byakuya's doing unspeakable things with them which he just sighs at. Additionally she's not planning on murdering anyone anymore as I feel she holds pride in her killing SPECIFICALLY with those scissors. So, she wouldn't be using any random pair. But also, her being reformed and all. Besides, the scissors being held in the care of Byakuya it's not because of the potential of Syo starting all over again with the murders anyway. It's more about the potential of the whole "Toko is Genocider Syo and is a serial killer" thing coming out and as a way of showing that Byakuya does care for Toko, aloofness or not. I like to headcanon that, though footage of the Killing game were indeed broadcasted, for one, the Future Foundation were the main people to see it. Additionally, the average civilian would probably not a bit too busy trying to save their own lives than to be keeping up with the news regarding the Ultimate's in Hopes Peak. Not saying that some of that info wouldn't be able to get out. Some of it certainly could have and added to the despair and all. As to regards on where the footage is held, it's with Future Foundation in partner with Byakuya. Perhaps a bit of Kyoko their too and a bit of Makoto as well though I feel all the survivors pitched in on having the say on what to do with it. After all, it IS the recording of all their Hopes Peak trauma, though I don't think they'd want to destroy it oddly enough. This concept of course has room to change but these are the main thoughts Plus, it's fun to think about as, with Syo in the picture in this AU, the concept of whether the people know or don't know about the whole "notorious serial killer Genocider Syo is sorta just an alter of Toko Fukawa" is something that has to be addressed to SOME extent .

For her physical build, it's just Toko's. What really changes is the undergarments anyway. Though they are not colored her, they are very much bright red, very garish. All of her undergarments are which contrasts with Toko's more frilly and pretty undergarments. One other bit to mention is Syo's hair! It's nothing too crazy, just Toko's hair out of the pony tail and ruffled to high hell! Syo makes it work though.

That's Syo done! Hope I did her justice! Tried my best ;-; (1) | (6)

[roseworth]

are you like on your period

you and this anon from a few months ago should be friends

[stop-the-play]

> What? No, I'm not doing that. [Continue up the stairs]

VOICE OF THE HERO: Yeah, I figured as much. Just had to say it.

You continue up the stairs, always one step behind the sorcerer. It pauses for a moment in the doorway, before smoothly stepping out and into the first floor of the cabin, gesturing to the exterior door.

"If you would be so kind? It, ah, doesn't seem to open for me."

VOICE OF THE HERO: This could be a trick. But you're too committed to trusting it, aren't you? Go on, then.

> [Open the door and step outside]

You push open the door and step out into the forest. The smell of damp earth is the same here as it was in the basement, but the air is fresh and the sky is clear.

The sorcerer slips out of the doorway behind you.

"We... made it out?"

It turns to you, the glint of tears shining from the corners of its eyes.

"We made it out! And all we had to do was trust each other. It was... easier than I thought."

VOICE OF THE HERO: All right, I'll admit it. This is... sweet.

The sorcerer's expression softens.

"I'm... sorry, about last time. I should have trusted you from the beginning instead of... well. Killing you."

"W-wait. What's happening?"

VOICE OF THE HERO: It's like everything is... unravelling. Is this the end of the world?

The sorcerer rushes towards you, but the distance between you seems far more vast than should be possible, and your hands only grasp at empty air.

The world around you collapses into a point, leaving only an empty, starry sky that somehow feels as though it's crushing you. And then everything goes dark, and you die.

This is the end.

[defiledtomb]

hellooo, I hope you're feeling well! I was wondering however if ouroboros was still being worked on or if it's on hiatus. Hope I wasn't rude in asking

I don't feel it's rude, after all, I have been keeping the development close to my chest. It is still being worked on, edited and transferred into renpy with graphics and soundbytes galore! However, right now, since about three weeks back, I left my partner of 8 years in the middle of the night with just a change of clothes, my dog, and a laptop. I'm struggling hard but putting on a brave face-- right now I'm coming up with a concept of something else to work on until I get a proper apartment and can get my stationary PC back so I can get back to work on ouro. I'll make a proper post about it tomorrow, so keep an eye on this space!

[a-fuked-up-mess]

the dynamic between yuji and nobara is so, so chaotic and funny and similar to eachother like they're on the same wavelength and oh my gods, still so nonsensical that it's hilarious.

next, the live action scenes are just... i can understand manga fans' frustration in action scenes a bit because it's literally something else entirely to see it flow like that than to see its picture by picture.

these negative emotions of mankind become the source of curses, they said. and yuji put all his negative emotions which are hate, fear and regret to turn it into that red flame fist. from this im assuming that all the negative emotions are also what jujutsu sorcerers use as their powers? and by basic fantasy logic, the stronger the emotions, the stronger the power ig? and as they said gojo is the strongest... does that mean he has a lot of negativity inside? eh dunno.

and after the howl, when sukuna comes out and fights that white, raisin looking curse... damn. and after he creates his domain and kills the curse and all. yup, epic. also, ryomen sukuna... why's he kinda... um... no nvm.

again, some scenes i should mention: idiot level teachings on special grade, yuji and nobara after the exit was lost and then petting with megumi's dog, megumi and itadori arguing over tadashi's dead body and yuji's internal struggle about the idea of "a proper death", megumi summoning animals, nobara (almost dying): you know i really hate frogs/megumi (trying to rescue her): well that's just too damn bad, the scene when sukuna burns that white, raisin looking curse with purple flame, and, nobara's phone's death because of kiyotaka ijichi lmao.

last, from ep3, that log entry of a curse being born and one of the three first year dying... is it itadori? because at the end of ep4, when sukuna asks him to switch, he doesn't or maybe... he can't. so is yuji stuck inside the body or something? or maybe im reading too much into it

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

The Final Sunset: Choice Decided

Previous/First | Next

You decided.. to visit the ill Cookies.

You know you shouldn't be doing this, walking out alone. You should maybe have brought Mala Sauce Cookie, or someone else, but you can't find yourself to bother them. It's your fault that they're all like this. You failed them, so you must act quickly.

As you carry the lantern, the snow blowing through the trees and shaking off the leaves, you feel chills creeping up your back. You quicken your step, wanting to get to the quarantine shelter as soon as possible.

.

.

.

.

Unaware that someone has already partly succumb to the Frost, and is watching you.

[loopdile]

transcription under the cut!

The worst ship chart ever.

Ship name: Loopdile

[insert very tiny math] Ages: 43 and 31? Age difference: 8?

Portrait of Odile with an eyebrow raised saying "I'm not telling." Name: Odile. Gender: trans woman (maybe nb but idrc rn). Sexuality: Aro lesbian.

Portrait of Loop with a finger raised saying "I'm not telling~" Name: Loop. Gender: Nonbinary (??? what is identity). Sexuality: Ace bi

General sliders. "Relationship starts quickly vs the slowest burn you can possibly imagine" is marked fairly close to slowly and trails off towards slow burn. "They'll be together forever vs They'll break up after 2 months tops" has two marks, one at 2 months and one really close to forever. "Cute couple vs dear god they're ugly" is marked a quarter slider away from cute. "Reasonably healthy and normal relationship vs They're dying and getting killed and hurt man" has a wide mark all the way from the halfway point to a quarter away from healthy. "Extremely popular ship vs literally no one ships this but me" is marked fairly close to no one.

Specific sliders. "Giddy and happy to be in love vs they just killed themselves 40 times in their head at the idea of being in love" has loop at died and odile fairly close to died. "The madoka vs the homura" has loop at homura and odile a third of the slider away. "Telling anyone who will listen about their partner vs rarely brings up that they're in a relationship" has loop a quarter away from telling anyone and odile fairly close to rarely. "eats and/or encourages a healthy diet vs eats dry instant noodles only" has loop at noodles and odile a third away from healthy. "crazy ass vs truck freak" has loop at crazy ass and odile fairly close to truck freak.

Tell me why your ship is interesting... go!

What draws them together? Odile is the only motherfucker that can handle them; Loop is weird and intriguing.

What stands in the way? Poor communication skills; Loop is clingy but Odile often needs space; Loop lashes out and self-isolates.

What are their good traits? They're both hilarious and dedicated to the bit; they're both devoted to their loved ones.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Odile is aro-spec and uninterested in romance; Loop both hates/fears and craves romance; Luckily they can just be something stranger!

Describe them with one trope: found family, deadpan x emotional, secret third thing, I'll protect you from yourself.

[figofswords]

the post grad why did i get an art degree what am i even doing what do i want in life where am i going crisis has finally hit i want to. lie down in the dirt. or something

[vinnigami]

September 26 2023

Part 1 | Next >>

[plush-rabbit]

Phantoms and Memories

Continuation to Spots and Stops

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: If i let if go any further, it would have been well over 5K so I had to cut up the chapter ( ◕ᴗ◕)っ✂ (its also in his pov this time!! and so will next chapter)

-

As Johnathan runs, he’s thankful that the effects of the Super-Collider had given him longer legs. He doesn’t think he’d be able to run as long if not for the long strides that he takes as police chase after him. This most certainly isn’t fair- he hadn’t even stolen anything! When the cops had stopped and shined their light at him, he panicked and immediately set off. 

The lights of the vehicle flash behind him, red and blue filling the night and people move out their way as a cop shouts at him to stop. One in the cruiser and the other pursuing him on foot. 

Turning a corner, he grabs at a spot near his wrist- the jacket he wears pushed to his elbows- and holds onto it. He doesn’t trust himself to throw it and jump into it- knowing his luck, the hole would be much too small, and he’d just get stuck in it. No. Not again. 

Instead, he jumps up, and the creaky ladder of a fire escape bangs down. Once more, he’s thankful for the long legs that allow him to climb easily and take two stairs at a time compared to the cop who is trailing behind. Reaching the roof of the building, he puts the spot in front of him, and taking in a shuddering breath, he stops. He hasn’t done a long jump with one of his holes before. It’s been something quick and nearby- nothing faraway. But hearing the cop behind him, there isn’t much time to ponder about where he’ll end up, he just hopes that wherever the spot leads him to, is home. 

Like blinking, it’s a moment of darkness, falling into nothingness, until he realizes he is falling. His legs kick out until just a second later, he falls onto a soft surface- bumpy, but soft. He lifts himself up on his forearms, scanning around what appears to be a dark room. Maybe he did manage to control where he went this time.

His hand pulls at whatever it is that squishes under him. In the dark room where the only light comes from a streetlamp behind closed blinds, he sees that it’s a pillow shaped like a flower. The fabric stretches down where his hand has fisted over one of the stuffed petals. He turns, and he freezes. He holds tightly onto the pillow and he can barely make it out, he can barely make you out, but it’s you. Asleep on your bed and asleep in your room.

How you didn’t hear or feel him fall onto your bed is beside the point- even with being a heavy sleeper, that must be a stroke of luck for him. Why are you here? A better and appropriate question is why is he here? He doesn’t want to be here. He can’t be here. Sure, you had invited him to come if he needed something but he doubts that you actually meant it- more as a nicety than anything- and even if you had meant it, he doubts that you meant it like this. 

The flower goes behind him, and he waits- quiet and still, he hopes that you don’t wake up. Please, don’t wake up. To whatever deity that listens to him, he promises that if you don’t wake up, he’ll never see you again. He can’t handle seeing your reaction if he stopped by unannounced. Crawling slowly, he moves to get off of your bed. Even with you being such a heavy sleeper, every time the bed creaks under his weight, he pauses, the bed creaks under his weight and every creak has him go rigid. 

His feet are flat against the floor and he turns, your phone lighting up as a message enters. His curiosity gets the best of him and he takes soft footsteps to peek. It’s from an unsolved number that simply asks if you’re awake. Hurt grips at him in unforgiving claws. 

The time is ten past two. Your phone is fully charged, and he takes another look at you. You still sleep soundly and undisturbed. He unplugs your phone, and lets the cable hang over the drawer knobs. No matter how many times he told you that charging your phone overnight is harmful for the battery, you never seemed to listen. You continued to charge it.

Turning to you, he sees that the blanket is askew, draping over the side of the bed. Adjusting it, so that it now covers your body, he tucks you in, pulling it up to your shoulders. He lifts his hand up and hovers your head, and as his fingertips brush against your skin, he pulls back. The memory of you reacted when he last touched you is fresh in his mind. You recoiled away. He wonders if you washed yourself of his touch right after he was kicked out. Instead, he watches you, asleep and unaware of him. Your phone lights up again, and he frowns. Taking another peek, it’s the same unsaved number. Looking back to you, he fists his hand at his side. He wishes that he could touch you one more time- just a final touch, a final kiss to allow him to let go of you. But he can’t do that- he’d feel awful knowing that he did something to you. You’d probably be disgusted with him if you knew what he was doing. 

He should leave.

You didn’t wake up. He did promise that if you didn’t wake up, he wouldn’t return- he wouldn’t see you again. You’ve moved on, and he should too. 

Still, he can’t pull himself away. He wants to look at you like he would before. He wants you to look at him like you would before. He wants to slip into the bed beside you and pull you to his chest and feel you rest your hand over his stomach. You sleep, and he stares and it’s creepy and gross and an invasion of your privacy, but he can’t help it. He needs to look at you, needs to engrave you into his memory until he can picture you without even trying.

His hand lifts again, shaky and unsure as it reaches over, and just as he’s about to trace over your features, your phone rings. Scurrying, he hides himself behind the bottom edge of your mattress. He pulse himself down, making sure that not an inch of him is seen over where you sit. 

The ringing stops, and he hears your voice.” Hello?” It’s raspy and heavy with sleep. He can’t hear the other side of the conversation no matter how much he tries to strain his hearing. “Yeah, well I was asleep.” You mutter something under your breath too light for him to hear. “I’m listening, I’m listening.” You pause. “Yeah, no I’m not really in the greatest mood considering that I was woken up in the middle of the night.” You never liked being woken up- he’s made that mistake a few times. “Look-” you exhale- “I’m sorry that I led you on-” it doesn’t sound sincere but rather annoyed- “but it’s over, okay? Like for good.” Another pause. “No, no. It’s over. I’m done. Good luck or whatever. Bye.”

Your phone lights up the room in a bright glow and as quick and blinding as it came, it’s snuffed out. He hears you fall back into bed. You groan and the bed shakes as you turn. 

Silence fills the room and Johnathan’s heart beats in fear. He just has to wait a few minutes until you’re back to sleep. It won’t take long. You’ve always been quick to fall back to sleep and after being rudely woken up, you’ll slip off into slumber in no time.

He waits and waits, and after what feels like eternity, he hears soft thumping- you’re kicking into the bed. “Fuck,” you whine. “Fuck.” You toss and turn, and he can hear the assault on the pillow as you try to make yourself comfortable. 

Oh no. You can’t fall back to sleep. 

He should have left when he had the chance. This is his punishment. 

Carefully, he peels off a hole, and places it beside himself, maybe he can slip away like this, he enters his hand into the hole. Keeping his gaze fixed looking above, he pushes his hand into the hole, fingers outstretched, fluttering about looking for a flat surface. He’s elbow deep, the hole on his face contorting into what would be frustration if he still had his face. He can’t find it, and you’ve already begun to kick at the blankets and grumble at yourself. 

You’ve already lost your sleep- taken away by a phone call from someone who you used to date. 

Johnathan tries not to dwell on that. It’s too fresh of a wound. You’re too fresh of a wound. 

As he reaches further down, his body presses against the floor. All he needs is to know that something is on the other side, something that might break his fall or would at least get him out of your room. Too focused on looking up to see if you’d peep your head over, he feels something ghosts over the side of head, fleeting and spindly, and he yelps. 

Oh fuck. He turns, hoping to find a spider, but it’s just his hand, the portal made to just be a few feet away from where he made it

“Hello?” Your voice is alert. Even if he were to be quiet, you’d never buy it.

The light clicks on, and he can hear you rummage through your nightstand. “Hello? No, fuck. I- I have a weapon.” Your voice is shaky. He stays silent, pulling away the spot and making another one that ends up on your wall on the opposite side. “I'll call the police.”

He lowers his head and lifts an arm. “It’s me. It’s just me.�� He hopes that he’s the only one with white skin that you know.

“Johnathan?”

His head knocks against the wooden frame of the mattress, and he lowers his hand. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pop in unexpectedly. I just- I got myself into a pickle and I just threw a spot and now I’m here.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.”

He had wanted to go home. Or at least pop in anywhere but here. He can’t believe that his holes would betray him like this.

The bed creaks, and he pulls his arm back from the spot, watching above him, seeing if you’d peek over to see him. You don’t. “A pickle? Are you okay?” He can hear the soft rustle of the blankets. “Are you hurt?”

He shrugs, but you can’t see him. “Oh, um. Yeah, yeah.” His knees feel as if they’re on fire and he’s ready to put this day behind him. “I’m okay.”

You stay silent. 

“I’ll get out of your hair, I just- It’s hard to control my holes and where they take me.” He fumbles with another spot. That one pools on your ceiling. 

“Jonathan?”

He pulls the spot back. “Yeah?”

“You can say no, but um, can I see you?”

The spot of his face stretches, and he feels his body tense. He remembers how you reacted to him the first time. And the second time- granted he did catch you in a vulnerable moment, but it was because of him that you were so- so vulnerable. He should tell you no. He should leave and never look back, and never think of you. But then you call his name, and his resolve crumbles. When the two of you were together and happy, he could never tell you no; he could never deny you anything that you had wanted.

His hands brace themselves against the edge of the bed frame, and he stands, looking down at the ground, unable to see you. Never has he felt so bare and exposed. 

The bed creaks, and he sees a shadow approach and a familiar shirt peeks in the corner of his vision. He can feel your eyes on him, and your hands flex and unflex in want. He should look at you. He should give himself that grace, he should take one look at you while you look at him. When he looks up, he’s tilting his head down, head cocked to the side, as you look at him with doe eyes shining in unshed tears. Your hands fist into his old shirt, and you look at him.

“It’s rude to stare,” he mumbles.

You still continue to stare. You suck in your bottom lip, your teeth teasing at it, and he hates that he can’t kiss you, that he can’t touch you without one of you resulting in tears. You swallow, and part your lips once more. Would you still taste like mint? Or would you taste like sleep? Would you close your eyes and pretend that he was someone else if he leaned towards you? Are you pretending that he’s someone else right now? Are you only able to stomach him and his appearance because you think of someone else?

“Can you eat?” You ask, and it’s almost laughable that all that you could tell him, and it’s that. A simple, curious question. It’s entirely you. 

“Yes,” he answers. What would you say next? Would ask if he could chew? If he still has teeth that would tear apart meat and grain? Would you ask if he still has lips? Would you continue to ask him questions so that he could stay a little while longer in the comfort of your bedroom? “Why do you ask?”

“Are you hungry?”  Your hands fist over the stomach of his old shirt. “We- I can make you something if you’d like.”

He’d eat glass if it meant that he could stare at you some more. “I can eat.” You give him a ghost of a smile, and he takes it eagerly. “What do you have around?” Is he allowed to be greedy? Can he ask and ask until you can no longer give him what he wants?

You climb off the bed, adjusting at the shirt and pulling down the legs of your shorts. He follows you out of your room, and now as a stranger in your home, he feels like a ghost invading your space- walking past memories that he no longer has access to. He walks past the living room, the weight and tension a swirling mess, threatening to pull the both of you in and keep you stuck forever in a loop of grief. He holds his breath until he enters the kitchen. Motioning for him to sit at the table, you open the fridge, a cool blast makes goosebumps prick your skin. 

Turning your head, you look just like how he remembers you. “Are you okay with sandwiches?”

“Do you have chips?” He’ll be greedy and gluttonous- stuffing himself full of food in order to sit with you longer.

Nodding, you begin to pull out the ingredients to make sandwiches and he watches from the chair, stiff and cold, wanting to believe that he won’t be back after tonight. But as you bring out the plates and pull out the drinks- his favorite is still in your fridge even after all this time remains unopened and cold. You place the ingredients in front of him and alongside you, he prepares his sandwich.

You’re done with yours fairly quickly, and you turn on the television, and a late night show fills the room. Fake laughter, and fake applause is all that rings in him, and in his hand is a sandwich made with a gluttonous desire to take all that he can.

When he takes a bite, it’s sour. 

“We probably should have toasted the bread,” you tell him, peeling off the crust. “Untoasted is fine and all it if we were going to make sandwiches-”

“-We should have done it properly,” he finishes. Looking up at you, he can’t finish the sandwich- not when it tastes like it’ll give him heartburn. “Chips?” The drink remains unopened, collecting condensation on the side and dripping onto the placemats on the table. Hissing comes from the soda, and he looks at the opening. 

“In the pantry.” You take a bite of your sandwich and glance at him through the corner of your eyes. “You’re free to check.” You close your eyes, humming at the mouthful of food in your mouth. 

He stands, and searches through the cabinets, a brand new bag of chips sits, and he grabs at it, the colors popping against his skin. Reaching down into a drawer, he pulls out a reusable straw. A metallic one, the silver distorting his image in the reflection. It sits beside yours- iridescent and solid colors. 

The chips sit at the table and the straw- his straw- sits in his drink. He turns his head every time he takes a sip. You don’t look at him. This entire time, you haven’t casted a glance towards him except in the beginning. You make small conversation as you eat your sandwich and place a few chips onto your plate. Your drink is opened, and you never take your eyes off of it. The television still plays. He’s only taken small bites of his own, the taste not returning, and the bitterness staining him.

“Why did you ask me to stay?” His holes are shifting, swirling and constricting as he waits for your answer.

You cast him a glance. Finally, you look at him. “I just-” you let out a long exhale- “You want the truth or a lie?”

“The truth.”

Shrugging, you take another sip and look at him, turning your body in the chair to fully face him. “I-” the words get stuck in your throat and you look away- “I have no right to say it, but I missed you.” He stills. “I know what I did was awful, but-” you hold the can and the aluminum bends under your touch- “you were right. It’s still you.” You look at him again, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look so saturnine. Even your tone is sorrowful and empty, and the words hang in the air, unanswered to.

He stays silent. And you continue, keeping your gaze on him. It must be taking all of your willpower to even do so.

“Do you think you could stay a while?” He’s silent. “You can say no.” You turn away from him, and push yourself away from the table. “I know that I shouldn't be asking you anything of the sort, but I hope you’ll say yes. If not, then you know, just lock up when you leave.”

You have the gall to ask that of him. You open your home to him, and offer him food, and he takes it with acid poisoned in him, with hands stained with muck and gunk, and his pale white skin is stained with holes and spots. And still, as if it were the first night that he spent with you, anxiety chills him to his core and roots him in place. 

He’ll get up and lock the door behind him. Johnathan will rid himself of you, and let all of this be some dream that felt too real. He’ll do it. His chest fills with air, and the chair scrapes against the floor. He’ll leave a mess behind, and when you clean it in the morning with the bird chirping outside and the soft rays of light shining against your table, you’ll miss him. Every step that he takes is heavy, and slow, weights placed on his ankles to pull him back so as to not make a dumb mistake. You can hope that he’ll say yes, and he can hope that when morning comes, you’ll still miss him. And he stands in the living room, back where he stood before you all those nights ago. 

The room looks so different. Emptier.

Every step has him hoping that he’s making the right decision. What more could you ever say to him? What words could ever mend him back together? What tenderness could ever replace the cold and callous nature that you bared at him in his weakest moments? He holds the doorknob in his hands, and he hopes that he’ll never get to find out. He hopes that when he closes the door behind him, he’ll have it all figured out.