#I hope I’m not forgetting anyone

[smokbeast]

(UPDATED) COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

Hi hello hi! Commissions are open! if you are interested here is a google form below with all the info at hand about my commissions and workflow! If you have any questions my DMS are open to answer and talk it out, thank you so much, reblogs are extremely appreciated to spread the word as I would like this to be my main post for commissions from now on!

Busts sketches(colored/BW):20$ Fullbody sketches(colored/BW): 30$ Busts cleaned Lines(colored):30$

Fullbody cleaned Lines(colored):40$ Full Rendered illustrations:80-86$ (price range may change depending on complexity)

-an extra character counts as another illustration and will be a fee of the price doubled of what you have chosen. 

-There is an allowance of 3 revisions after the line art is complete, 

after that if you want changes, it will be a fee of 5+dollars for any additional changes after the line art has been considered approved.

-simple backgrounds are allowed for the Cleaned Flat commissions if the client so desires. 

-sketch commissions may be shaded in black and white or simple flat colors (no rendering). lineart commissions can be with or without colors if so desired.

-Illustration pieces are large entirely intricate rendered scene artworks with very detailed backgrounds and character.

-tips are optional and greatly appreciated!

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂��𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive. 

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food. 

Which he fed all to Raph by the way. 

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'. 

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring. 

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell. 

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth. 

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning. 

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time! 

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies. 

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow. 

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right. 

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation. 

…The situation he created in the first place. 

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys��or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy. 

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did. 

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!” 

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.” 

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…” 

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired. 

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!” 

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook. 

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged. 

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.” 

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?” 

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled. 

“And…why are those bad things?” 

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant. 

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.” 

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?” 

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?” 

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…” 

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin. 

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline. 

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.  

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?” 

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...” 

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?” 

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.” 

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.” 

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” 

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.” 

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful. 

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.  

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly. 

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled. 

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck. 

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed. 

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!” 

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.” 

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!” 

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed. 

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!” 

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?” 

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...” 

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?” 

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.” 

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

As most of you know I try my best to be civil and kind. I’m too exhausted and the world sucks too much for me to go about making other people feel like shit, it’s not really something I see worthy of my or anyone’s time really. I try to keep things positive not only because it might brighten someone else’s day but for my own sake. I curate this space because I know a lot of you feel and experience the same things I do. Do not twist this into me being delusional. I am fully aware the internet can be an unkind place, but that doesn’t mean my blog, my space, has to follow that example.

Be kind, be patient, and be respectful, not that the majority of you haven’t already been doing so. Asks are open again. Anonymous will be turned on again when I feel comfortable.

Apologies to those who used anon because they were nervous/anxious. I completely understand where you’re coming from and this is nothing against you. Regardless I do hope you stick around, and maybe one day work up the courage to be open with me. Or continue to keep your distance, I completely understand that too.

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??

[javierduffy]

stuffand also things

[wundrousarts]

I need some new Nevermoor content and news soon because all I ever want to do is talk about it but I feel like I’ve run out of theories in my brain….. Need the snippet and UK cover by the end of the year!! Manifesting 🕯️🕯️🕯️

[isame-allen]

Happy new year y’alls :D

It’s the year of the snake so enjoy snake ink!

[a-usernamelol]

Summary:

Allan Waite, a strange student from Hogwarts, finds a group of poachers trying to break in a vault and save the rest of their company from certain death. Despite his better judgment, he decides to help.

Word Count For The Nerds: 5826 words Page Count For The Nerds: 13 Pages

The sun pounded down forcefully on the dirt and grass, which only doubled the bombardment on Allan’s skin, yet years of outdoor attention and activity had made him sturdier to the sun’s constant war, but years of hoarding clothes on his person had also kept all but his face pale. He was used to it, however, and pushed forward through the blur of heat of the ground, towards some unseen goal he wasn’t even entirely sure about himself. 

Allan kept walking forward in the grassy hills that provided little cover, passing along a cliffside edge that threatened to toss him over with one step to the right. Down there, he could see a poacher camp, set right outside a cave. Cages were stacked in rows, and in one lay the key to the entrance of the cave, a large cube with a symbol on it. They seemingly had figured out it had to do with the cave in some way- or it wouldn’t have been so heavily protected. He could see the water from here- just a ways away, past the camp which was set on another cliff. Then again, this was the coast- you could see water nearly everywhere. 

He clicked his tongue to himself, making his way to his current destination- a nearby cemetery that had long since been abandoned over the course of decades, turning and walking towards a bridge built across the river he had been following for the past day to find his way. The heels of his boots met stone, found grip, and held weight with each step forward. Thankfully the bridge was still sturdy, and he soaked in the view once more, glancing over the edge towards his right once again, watching the glittering water sparkle like a thousand gemstones in the setting sun, spreading the fire towards the beaches which served as the only divider between the two. A path slowly crept away from the sands, and up towards the bridge, dividing the cliff into two.

Everything is as it should be. He thought, satisfied with the rare quiet- too quiet, really, with a poacher camp nearby. Sure enough, his quiet was disturbed as he noticed a pair of legs sticking out from behind his view of the rocks. He moved just enough to see the full form and frowned when he recognized the mask on the face of the body.

A dead poacher? That seemed odd to him- poachers, as with any group, at least to some extent, defended each other. It was rare to see one alone- let alone dead. Creeping to the side a bit more to see past the rocks, he noticed what appeared to be another corpse- although it was hard to tell, since it was tucked closer to the cliff he had just walked away from, the shadows leaving it obscure to his vision. Curious, he deviated from his mission, and quickly jogged across the bridge, back the way he came. 

He found a spot in the rocks where he could clearly see the bodies, and soon realized there was still more he had missed due to his position before. There were, in total, four poachers, two of which were dead, both laying in a similar fashion, near what looked like white symbols Allan could not quite make out, but which looked distinctly familiar. Another sat with his legs pulled up against his chest, tucked into the cliff in a way Allan could never have seen him from his position before even if he tried. He looked like he was weeping behind the mask, shivering and hugging himself, muttering half-incoherent thoughts and words.

The last poacher was groaning loudly in pain, bashing his shoulder into a metal gate tucked into the cliff, leading to a cave. He would walk a few paces back, run forward, and slam his whole body weight into the door, before doing it again after each inevitable failure. 

Allan crouched down to watch them, curiosity eating at his heart the more he watched their clearly desperate efforts. They weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, clearly, since neither of them seemed to notice him.

“I can’t hear their screams anymore.” The poacher tucked against the cliff sniffled out, saying the first genuinely understandable thing yet. The other turned and looked at him, frowning and pausing his assault on the door, before letting out a loud, exhausted sigh and slamming his shoulder into the metal again, the bars cutting into his shirt and skin, bruising him badly enough he bled under the shirt, causing it to stick and itch. He paused again to move his shirt so that it no longer itched, and Allan bit the inside of his lip.

On one hand, poachers hunted and killed defenseless beasts. On the other, these poachers in particular were clearly desperate, and it looked like the rest of their party had been trapped in the cave. Although Allan didn’t want to help them, knowing how they had hurt others while working under Rookwood, he also felt terribly sorry for them- as they clearly were trying to rescue their team- assuming there was any team left to save.

Allan got up and climbed down the cliff, jumping down and catching himself, before hopping down again onto the dirt path with a soft thump. The frightened poacher squealed in terror when he saw him and jumped up, his wand immediately at the ready. This alerted his friend mid-slam, and he too twisted around to face him, hissing a threat.

“You! You’re that damned student! You have a lot of nerve showing your face around here.” He spat. Allan didn’t flinch, only shrugged and raised his hands in hopes to show he meant no harm.

“I’m not sure you’re in a position to say that, with what looks like a good chunk of your crew dead or missing in action.” Allan then nodded to the poacher who had yelped, and noticing how badly he was shaking, he gave a friendly smile. “Sorry for the scare.”

The poacher shivered and backed up against the wall, leaving his more sound comrade to step forward, unconvinced of Allan’s attempts at peace.

“What do you want, boy?” He growled through gritted teeth, which Allan could hear through his mask.

“I want to strike a deal. You want to go find your companions. I want to see what’s in that cave. I can unlock the door, and we can split the profits. I don’t want to fight you- put the wand away, please.” Allan explained slowly, emphasizing his words so it hopefully registered.

The poachers glanced at each other, seemingly worried for another potential bloodbath. Eventually, the both yielded, and slowly put their wands away, still studying Allan’s every move warily. Allan smiled and lowered his hands, creeping forward and fixing his gloves. He took a cocky bow, trusting them to not attack him for the few seconds he wasn’t looking at them, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you kindly. I think we should get acquainted. Allan. Allan Waite. You two?” Allan raised his arms to gesture to the poachers. The terrified one shivered and remained silent, still not trusting him enough to speak. The other, however, shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, and huffed in irritation, clearly not thrilled at being on friendly terms with their number one enemy. Still, he adjusted his shoulder blades and stood up straight.

“Vincent, if you must know.” He declared proudly, “You’re not going to attack us, then?”

“Don’t be silly. You’re helpless. I have class. I want to help you.” Allan shook his head, putting his hands in his coat pockets and blowing a lock of magenta hair out of his eyes. Vincent snorted, and although Allan couldn’t tell, he could have sworn the poacher rolled his eyes. 

“Well I’m so very glad that we’re so helpless that the great Purger of Dark Wizards feels bad for us.” Vincent crossed his arms, the defensive gesture signaling to Allan that he did not trust him, and rightfully so, in Allan’s eyes. The other poacher sunk back into his crying position and began to sob. Both Allan and Vincent turned towards him and Allan frowned, furrowing his brows in genuine sympathy. He took his wand out of its sheath and slowly walked over to the gate, Vincent watching him the entire way, wary of his every move.

“What are you doing?!” He hissed the second he saw the wand, just a little bit of fear creeping up into his voice. Allan chuckled at his reaction.

“Unlocking the door, you fool. Do you want to find your friends or not?” Allan replied, snapping in a way that left little room for argument as he cast Alohomora on the lock. He walked right by a gawking Vincent, who huffed and adjusted his cat skull mask as the door swung open with an agonizingly slow creak. Allan turned to look back at the frightened poacher and smiled.

“Stay out here and guard the entrance. If anyone but us comes up, close the door immediately.” Allan ordered. The man nodded, still visibly shivering like he was experiencing his own personal earthquake. Satisfied with the nod for an answer, Allan turned to look down into the dark pit of a hallway, lit only by a few stray torches. Vincent leaned in a little next to him, looking between Allan and the hallway. 

“…It’s open.” He said after a moment, urging Allan to move already. Allan gawked himself, and rolled his eyes.

“Well- Yes I KNOW that thank you.” He started walking forward and into the stone halls. It was clearly man made- more likely one of the many treasure vaults like around the Highlands. Still, he crept down onto the rubble, quietly trying to avoid making any noise by avoiding the pebbles- An effort immediately foiled by Vincent who tripped on a stone slab, a loud Clunk ringing through the hallway. Allan winced and froze. He didn’t want to disturb whatever lay in here- lest it decided to disturb them. He looked back at Vincent with a scowl, who gave a tiny, albeit forced, smile.

“Any idea what happened here?” Allan whispered. Vincent shook his head.

“The gate locked behind them- all we heard were the shouts of a scuffle.” Vincent shifted away from the slab, careful not to touch anything else. Allan turned back around to keep moving.

“What happened to the men outside then?” Allan hissed quietly as he put his hand on the wall, feeling its rough texture. A nearby torch, sensing movement, lit itself. Allan squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. He was surprised any torches down here still worked- although he supposed it could be magic.

“Inferi out front. Lot of ‘em. Stupidly strong for a shambling mass of bones.” Vincent replied. Allan raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“…Inferi. Inferi took out three poachers? And then what? Left?” Allan replied, clearly dumbfounded by how three fully grown adults couldn’t just Confringo a bunch of Inferi. It seemed to be a poacher’s favorite spell. Vincent shrugged.

“I don’t know… They were stronger. Something was wrong. They were like- stone statues- and if you managed to get a crack open- they glowed red.”

Allan frowned at Vincent’s description. It sounded oddly similar to a particular pyramid-shaped object he knew of. Stone that glows red. Hm. 

“Any chance they attacked at night and crumbled to ash once the sun rose…?” Allan offered, throwing it out there that he might know what those things were. Or are- if there were any more. 

Vincent stopped and gawked at Allan, who continued forward. He scrunched his eyebrows and blinked, putting one hand against a stone wall as if in thought.

“How- how do you know that?” He wondered aloud, Allan just shrugged and gestured for Vincent to come along. It would be too much a hassle to explain. To a poacher no less. He didn’t exactly “help” poachers and Ashwinders often. This one just got lucky that he was curious.

The hallway opened, each wall suddenly swallowed by a larger, darker room. Allan had to blink a couple of times for his eyes to adjust- which was promptly ruined by Vincent casting Lumos. Allan sighed as he was blinded and he reached over to his left and to bat at Vincent’s wand. Allan’s hand stopped short however as the rough shapes he had started to see in the dark suddenly became clear, and he could see the limp, lifeless forms of several poachers, strewn across the floor like ragdolls with broken or even crushed limbs. He cringed enough his left arm returned to his side. He doubted any of them had very painless deaths.

That would explain the screaming dying out… He frowned. At LEAST the Killing Curse is painless. Whatever was in here certainly didn’t give any of them that mercy. Allan felt a little drool well up in his mouth and his hand almost instinctively inch closer to his wand. The pain they must have gone through… 

Allan slammed his right hand into his coat pocket and looked at Vincent who was staring in horror, even under the mask the wide eyes were visible, glittering from the light of his wand. Allan reached out again, but hesitated and sighed.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he managed to squeak out. He was one to talk, so he knew better to say more when he had a nasty reputation for taking out poachers in the Forest. Vincent nodded and approached one of the bodies, leaning down a bit to look at it and instantly recoiling at the smell of blood.

“…It’s like. It’s like the corpse of a bird that got under a carriage’s wheel.” He concluded. But human. Allan didn’t need Vincent to say it to know what he meant. 

Allan wandered into the room as well, looking at the roots coming out of the ground from trees that must be above them. He squatted down to inspect them. The soil was soft and crumbled easily to the touch. It was fresh.

“Vincent. Stay away from the dirt. And the roots.” Allan ordered with an air of urgency. Vincent seemed to clock it was important and frowned, looking over.

“Why?” An understandable query.

“I dunno. Hunch.” Allan frowned, standing up and looking around. “I just don’t like it.”

Vincent raised a suspicious eyebrow, the mask shifting up slightly on his face, conveying to Allan his doubt. Then again, Allan didn’t need to see his face to know he probably didn’t trust him. 

“…Right.” Vincent turned to move further into the room, spotting a wall to the left with loose looking bricks. Vincent wandered over, intrigued. As he did, the bricks, enchanted as they were, shot themselves back and reformed the wall, opening into a new, smaller room. Vincent jumped and scurried back in shock, unintentionally landing his heel in the crook between the floor and the root of a plant, his own momentum forcing him backward, and he fell to the ground, snapping the root with a loud “Ack!”.

Allan immediately turned around, worried as to the condition of his companion, but failed to warn the man, as a skinny, stone hand shot out of the loose dirt and grabbed his arm with painful force. Vincent, with his arm now pulled against the ground, gasped and tried to pull away to no avail.

Allan took a step forward to help Vincent, paused as he listened to the groans of other undead assailants as they pulled their bodies out of the ground. A quick glance around confirmed the worst of his fears, as at least four other ”inferi” surrounded them from all around the room. Allan realized quickly he had little time before they overwhelmed him, and he rushed over to Vincent.

Vincent gasped at the stone arm, which now slowly revealed a whole head and body. Vincent could see the “skin” of the creature wasn’t skin- but some sort of stone cracked and groaned with every swift movement. It seemed impossible to break from. It didn’t help that Allan himself looked panicked- although Vincent gathered that made sense. He was just a kid. Even if he seemed to know what was going on- he was still JUST a kid.

“Lumos!” Allan shouted, his wand giving light. He shoved it in the inferi’s face, which seemed to make it back away with a screech of agony. Vincent broke his hand away and scrambled up. The creature was completely still now that it was in the light- like some sort of… Undead statue? Now was not the time for questions.

“That’s what was outside! Merlin’s bloody cock-“ Vincent gasped as he scrambled away, taking the hint to grab his own wand and cast Lumos.

“Language.” Allan grumbled in Vincent’s vague direction, and turned around, waving the light in the direction of the other “inferi”. His aggressive motion made them swerve away the second the light moved away from them, but his wand gave a strained flicker. It was like they themselves were soaking up the light, and perhaps the very magic of his wand. 

“Alright, wiseass. How do we kill ‘em? Fire?” Vincent hissed back, waving his wand in the direction “Inferi” that had attacked him moments earlier.

“They’re stone. You can’t kill stone- let alone what’s already dead.” Allan frowned and looked back into the hallway, where the torch was still flickering with fire. He glanced at his wand, which was starting to flicker more as its unnatural light was drained- presumably by the creatures. With every spare second the light was out, they crept closer to Allan. 

He shoved his wand in his pocket and grabbed the stone arm of one of the monsters, vaulting himself over it to get out in front of them. Vincent let out a shocked gasp as Allan sprinted to the fire, only to be grabbed a moment too soon by the coat, Allan turned around and sucked in his breath. The whole room looked like a void- with the exception of Vincent’s wand. A single arm attached to a stone body reached out, gripping onto Allan’s coat.

Allan looked at Vincent, whose wand flickered slightly, causing the poacher to smack his hand in confusion. With little more consideration, Allan ripped his coat out of the grip of his assailant. He turned around with a frustrated hiss.

“Confringo!” A sizzling, swirling giant spark of fire leapt from his wand, hitting the “inferi” that had attacked him in the face. It froze, like stone, staring at him with what was left of cold, broken eyes. He didn’t have a second to think as the flame died out, and his wand sparked, indicating to him that he wasn’t getting anything out of it with these creatures around. Vincent frowned as his own wand flickered.

“Alright, smartshoes. What now? I can see those gears turning.” 

Allan stared at Vincent for a moment before something clicked, and rammed himself into the nearest “Inferi” and knocked it over. Vincent gawked.

“Are you INSANE? Do you have a DEATH WISH?” He hissed through his teeth as Allan sprinted out of the room back into the hallway. 

“Shut it, Dad.” He grumbled sarcastically as he grabbed the torch from the wall. Vincent gasped and sprinted forward, his wand going out in the same breath. Instantly, “Inferi” were on top of him with the speed of a bullet, yanking him back away from the hallway. He shouted out as he was pulled to the floor like he was nothing more than a ragdoll.

Allan stopped on his tracks as he watched Vincent get pulled into the darkness of the room. He bit his tongue to keep himself from uttering several unholy words.

He shoved the torch in the face of the first “Inferi” he could see in the dark, which let out a horrible screech of pain, as its stone skin cracked and shattered as easily as sugar glass. With one last effort, in spite of its pain, it reached its crumbling hand out and tugged on Allan’s coat, before falling to the ground in a million pieces. Allan fixed his coat and walked into the room, filling it with the natural light of the fire.

A loud roar of howls of pain pierced Allan’s ears like a spear. Each creature still as stone, but yet crumbled to the ground in an uproar of sheer agony, reaching up as they did. Vincent gawked as the magic of his wand returned to him, the light emitting from its point, and he looked at Allan in understandable confusion and relief.

“…What…?” He gasped.

“Natural light. Lethal to them.” Allan explained carefully, “That was the difference. They’re afraid of light. Fire is natural light. Unnatural things are afraid of nature because it always wins. Like… vines overtaking a brick wall.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow. He looked the kid up and down a bit, confused by how this teenager made such a conclusion like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But- the torch was enchanted. It came on on its own.” 

Allan shook his head and started walking forward, looking around the room with the flame and wandering over to the wall that had moved just before the attack. “The stick would have been enchanted to LIGHT itself. The fire wouldn’t have been.”

He turned to look at Vincent, checking to see if he was following mentally. 

“Those things… They aren’t Inferi. They’re… like… Husks. Inferi have a little intelligence enough to talk and move. Those things? No. They just attack anything alive that comes near, like a golem.” Vincent said in a half panicked daze as he scrambled to his feet, dusting off the shards of stone. He felt vomit rise up in his throat when he realized that “stone” was now millions of pieces of dead bodies.

Allan laughed, and shook his head. “Oh no no no. They’re intelligent all right. Did you think it’s a spell that they only moved in the dark? No no, it’s a HUNTING tactic.” Allan smirked to himself as Vincent looked at him with horror.

“You mean… Those things… Could have… moved at any moment?” Vincent looked at the dust and shards on the ground and backed up slightly, immediately stumbling over a dead comrade, now coated in dust. He cursed loudly and looked at Allan with a new fire in his eyes, suddenly raising his wand in the boy’s face.

“Who ARE you?!” Vincent hissed angrily, as if all this was Allan’s fault.

Allan narrowed his eyes and frowned, tilting his head.

“Allan Waite. Feel free to tell your superiors that I saved your life. See how happy they’ll be then.” Allan walked towards the center of the room with a coy smirk. 

“We had a deal.” Allan tutted as he walked. Vincent’s hand quivered as he held up the wand, realizing that Allan was entirely unafraid- perhaps amused- about his threats. He pressed his lips together and put his wand in his pocket. 

“You’re a strange kid.” He decided aloud, causing Allan to snicker profusely. Allan wandered over to where Vincent first fell. 

“You’re clumsy.” He pointed out. Vincent frowned as Allan pointed out the very obvious fact. Allan moved silent as the dead of night, so of course Vincent was clumsy by his standards. 

“…Hm.” Vincent shook his head, not gracing the kid with an answer. He walked over, following Allan as he started to walk closer, the bricks moving and shifting, revealing a small closet-sized room, as dilapidated as the rest of the place. Inside was a small chest, about as big as a large suitcase. Allan narrowed his eyes and looked back at Vincent, putting a foot on the top of the chest before smirking. 

“THIS is what you fell over?” Allan chuckled. Vincent rolled his eyes at Allan’s mockery. Allan shook his head and took his foot off the chest, squatting down on the floor, and started opening it. Vincent grabbed Allan and pulled him away from it, the lid snapping shut with a loud clank. 

“What if it’s booby-trapped?” Vincent hissed. Allan rolled his eyes and brushed off his shoulders.

“Oh please. I doubt anyone who built this expected ANYONE to get past those creepy crawlies. Most don’t even know reinforced Inferi exist, let ALONE how to stop them.” Allan leaned down and lifted the chest lid anyway, causing Vincent to step back as if something would jump out.

Allan snickered as Vincent reacted, and looked down to spy their fortune. Inside was nothing but a light purple scarf, eaten partially by moths and maggots. Allan scrunched up his nose, picking up the scarf and holding it away from him like it was diseased. “...Well. This will give you lice and other pests for sure…” He said, Vincent, replying with a face similar to Allan’s own.

“...Lovely. All this, for virtually nothing. For Merlin’s sake, we can’t even split it!” Vincent huffed, before being met with the scarf being tossed at his chest. Instinctually, he reached up to catch it, immediately fumbling and nearly dropping it. “Nah. You can keep it. I’ve seen what I wanted to see. At least you’ll have something to show for your efforts.” Allan shrugged and turned to walk back into the room and from there the hallway. Vincent turned the cloth over in his hands and huffed before it registered that Allan was walking away and he whipped around to follow him, scampering behind as they crawled back into the light. “Now hold on just a minute! What am I going to tell my superiors? What am I gonna tell others?” Vincent declared worriedly as he scrambled back to Allan’s side. Allan just shrugged and tilted his head.

“What do you WANT to say?” Allan countered, turning around and raising his eyebrows curiously. There was, as there had always been, a glitter- or perhaps a shine, in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Vincent sighed and leaned back against a nearby wall. He took a moment to stare at the overgrown ceiling, before frowning and looking over at Allan.

“We should get out of this place.” He observed, not wanting to get attacked by more stone monstrosities. Allan chuckled and nodded, clapping Vincent on the shoulder as he walked by.

“Fair enough.” Allan walked down the thin hall and put the torch back on its mount, waving Vincent over. Vincent didn’t hesitate to scurry out of the dark towards Allan, clambering through the loose rubble on the ground to get away from the pit of darkness. Once they got to the gate, Vincent shoved past Allan to scramble out, running over to his partner.

Allan frowned, looking at the partner at hand, who had sat with his legs pulled against his chest against the same cliff face the vault had been carved into. He walked over and dug through his coat pockets, which were endless by design, to pull out a worn glass bottle that had a piece of cork shoved in the top to keep the precious liquid in. He held it out to the poacher gingerly.

“Hey. Drink this. No one thinks straight when dehydrated.” Allan furrowed his brows and pressed his lips together. Despite the terrified man being his enemy, he still felt… Well. Pity. They were only following orders after all, that didn’t make them the villains, just the tools. 

The frightened man snatched up the bottle, practically drinking the whole thing in one shot, before coughing.

“Water.” He observed roughly. Vincent seemed to raise an eyebrow at this, frowning. 

“Are you…” Vincent trailed off a bit, thinking before speaking. “Are you alright?” Vincent glanced at Allan for a moment, while the poacher nodded slightly, coughing again. Allan stood up, so Vincent followed. He looked at the curled up comrade with clear worry, before opening his mouth to speak to Allan, only to be cut off.

“Get that man a good meal and some safety. No one comes out the survivor of a slaughter, a survivor of mind. Not completely. Give him some time, and some compassion. You both just watched your whole team die in front of you.” Allan gestured to the man and then Vincent, giving a soft, kind smile. 

“That goes for you too.” Vincent gawked at Allan’s words and then back, before taking off his mask for air, sighing like a seal coming up for air. 

“I’ll take him back. To camp, I mean. Make sure he’s treated right. I’ll have a report to get to.” Vincent gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was face his section’s leader. Allan clicked his tongue idly. 

“Best get to it then, bud.” Allan did a sort of childish half salute and turned to walk away, but Vincent grabbed him by the shoulder with a calloused hand. Allan flinched from the grip.

“What about you? Where will you go?” Vincent bit the inside of his lip, pausing for his own thoughts again, as seemed to be a habit of his, before frowning. 

“Do you have… Anywhere to go?” Vincent finished, as if a creeping hunch had told him. Allan frowned. Maybe his demeanor had given it away. Allan had to pause and think for himself, unsure if he should give a poacher his location.

“I go wherever the birds go.” Allan decided finally, pulling out of the grip of the older man. The look on Vincent’s face gave away that his answer was unsatisfactory for the poacher, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and turned back to his partner, helping him up. Vincent shot Allan one last look of concern, before wandering up the hill between the nearby cliffs.

Allan watched them go with interest, letting them leave his sight before turning away himself. Vincent helped hold up his comrade the entire way up, knowing that he wasn’t in the right state of mind to lead himself back in one piece. 

Vincent practically had to pull the other man uphill by his shoulders, slowly making their way to their camp of origin to rest. By now, the sun was dipping below the horizon and it would be dusk by the time they would even see the lights. Vincent sighed gratefully when the orange stars popped out over the ground to greet them. Then, he noticed a silhouette he recognized, a woman in a coat and a tophat and let out a groan while he was still out of earshot. 

When the two men got close enough to see her better, he recognized the red hue of the coat and hat, as if they matched the fiery red of her constant anger. He tried to smile, but he was pretty sure his distaste snuck its way through his muscles to give his true thoughts away.

“Evening, Alicia.” He brought them both up to her and she scowled.

“Where’s the rest of your men?” She flatly replied, not even bothering to ask what happened to his companion. 

“They're dead. Inferi caught us off guard.” Alicia looked like she was going to lay into him so he quickly cut her off. 

“With all due respect, this man needs medical attention, stat.” Vincent gestured to the man beside him who seemed to choke on air and cough. Alicia raised an eyebrow and frowned, as she seemed to do constantly, and nodded, she turned to walk towards the fire to address a woman eating there.

“Get Marco. We have a man down.” Alicia said with just enough priority to get the poacher to drop her food and scramble up, rushing off into a tent, only to come back with another man only a few minutes later to take the weight off Vincent’s shoulder. 

He watched them all go, and rolled his shoulder where the other poacher had been holding onto him. He felt a pop and he grumbled in displeasure. Alicia seemed to glare at him at the mere sound, like a hawk on its prey, and he forced a smile, although still a little sore.

“Report.” She roughly growled, her eyes burning through him for answers. Vincent sighed.

“What do you want me to say? We were ambushed by some sort of magically reinforced Inferi.  Everyone but me and him perished. All we found in that damn vault was a moth eaten scarf.” Vincent signed and held up the scarf, pulling it out of his pants pocket and sighing

Alicia frowned and narrowed her eyes, as if she didn’t believe him. She probably didn’t, and Vincent knew that.

“And how did you two escape unscathed?” 

Vincent frowned and looked away from her prying eyes, glancing down the hill. He relaxed his shoulders as he basked in the view of the moonlite grass, swaying in the breeze like soft water. He saw something move and squinted, focusing his gaze under a tree where a nearly imperceptible shadow stood, so still it took him a second to register it was a person watching them from afar.

Allan. It had to be. He had to have followed them. But how? Vincent was trained to notice when people were following him, and the only things he had noticed on their journey was the spiders and occasional mongrel or wolf. He turned and looked back at Alicia, who he guessed hadn’t noticed him yet and smiled.

“I’m sorry ma’am. But that really is all there is to the story. We were defeated by mere Inferi, ma’am.” Vincent smiled under his mask as Alicia raised an eyebrow and frowned at him. After a moment she rubbed the bridge of her nose, annoyed.

“Your team must have had the brains of mooncalves, then.” She huffed and turned away, “Go sleep. We’re moving out for the forest at dawn.”

Vincent smirked and turned to look at the silhouette in the distance once more, who seemed to be creeping away from the scene, only stopping when seeing he was being directly looked at.

Vincent reached up and took off his mask, letting it hang by the strap in his hand as he pulled off the cloth over his head for air, revealing his unruly ash hair and eyes, matched by the light wrinkles of a man seen by time but not yet weakened by its flow. He gave the boy a light salute, too tired to give it proper form, keeping it for only for a moment.

He wasn’t sure how to thank him, but he’d seen people scarred by war before, and he trusted his gut. He would see this stranger again, somewhere, sometime. He knew it.

The shadow paused for a moment, before running away into the shadows, back in whatever path he had been on before the two met. Vincent watched for a moment, before, satisfied with his observations, turned towards his camp for some well deserved sleep.

END OF EXPEDITION 01

[tea-twords]

Thinking about an idea for the kinich

What do you think of a modern au where it’s a group Mario party session and Kinich is being obnoxiously lucky and good at it and Mualani rages and things go from there

And ajaw is kinich’s asshole dog and kachina is also playing with them and also someone else (maybe Xilonen? Maybe traveler? No idea for that)

[ssreeder]

I'm so looking forward to iroh and zuko properly talking and seeing irohs reaction to zuko being gay.

Like we all know he doesn't agree with the fire nation rn but how will he react?

Will he not support him cause sokkas a guy? Will he not support him because it's SOKKA? Will he accept him? Will he reveal he's known for years zuko was gay?

Especially with everything that happened with zhao, regarding to what jee said to bato on their date. (Which is a very understandable perspective, zuko just got out of this very sexually traumatising situation and almost immediately starts a relationship (his first relationship) with sokka, but then again it is a very unique situation)

One thing I love about some atla fics is how they portray the FNs thoughts on queerness, cause on one hand they were one of the only country's (I think) that treated men and women the same but then again it's also the fucking fire nation.

And I also think zukos whole canon arc can be very comparative to queerness,

His dads an asshole and after speaking out against him he throws him out, and zuko try's for 3 years to regain his father's love and acceptance, and then faced with the opportunity of regaining it takes it immediately regardless of who or what he may hurt (iroh, his own morals etc) but once he makes it back home realises how fucked up everything is and eventually confronts his dad and openly tells him he doesn't agree with him then runs aways.

I also wonder if iroh secretly knows jee is queer it doesn't seem that likely to me but it also is iroh so who knows.

<3

I do think Iroh’s reaction will be a big moment for not only the story but for Zuko’s character development. Right now, Zuko’s technically still a prisoner, holding himself there by assuming Iroh will not understand or judge him when in reality he’ll never know what his uncle is thinking until they TALK ABOUT IT. (Which the FN royal family is just sooo good at healthy communication I don’t understand why this is so hard for them lol?!)

I do agree that the suddenness of the relationship combined with the intensity from both zuko and Sokka is very alarming for people looking at it from the outside (I mean we all totally get it cause we were there but others are like uhhhh hmmmm ok this might be concerning) so I get them gossiping and wondering if this is truly real or what the fucks going on with those boys.

I love Zukos canon arc because there’s just so much about zukos story that can be relatable no matter who you are and I think that’s why he is a fan favorite (it doesn’t explain why we torture him the way we do but ehhhh it’s fine haha)

Hmmmmmm does iroh know Jees gay? Depends on how saucy those music nights got ;)

[seafoamsol]

Every so often someone will come across my team fortress 2 art from like, 2017, and just go through all of it and I just have to deal with the psychic damage of reliving my high school years and seeing my old art

[yioh]

GUYS look at my wha oc😎

[turnleft]

i love how the last few minutes of the giggle mirrored the journey’s end memory wipe scene in such a beautifully subtle way.

In JE donna was begging the doctor to let her die as the doctordonna and stay in the tardis, far away from home. she did not want to go back to being “human” again, to be “no one”. and now in the giggle donna’s back in the tardis, but this time she’s asking him to come home with her and live with her family on earth. she’s asking him to let go of his “doctor” side and live like a human, like a “no one”. a role reversal but donna’s fixing his mistakes from 15 years ago

later in the backyard scene, when donna and fourteen have a talk, the first thing that comes out of her mouth is “you don’t have to stay here forever”- a reference to the way he forced her to let go of the tardis life and live without him “forever” (at least back then it was forever). she knows how miserable it can be to suddenly let go of something like that (even if she can’t remember it), and she did not want to make him feel the same way she felt for fifteen years.

s4 donna preferred to die than go back home to her family because she felt miserable on earth, while fourteen chose to go home with her and become an official part of the noble family. and he’s happier than ever.

[monsterrae1]

WIP 🚧 Wednesday

Tagged by the lovelies @wh0re-behavi0r @satashiiwrites , @buddiearemydads and @911onabc

I’ve also been tagged in so many things lately that I haven’t have the beans for and I apologize for it, not ignoring anyone! I love seeing what you’re all working on 🖤🖤🖤

From the soft dom Eddie fic coming to an ao3 near you this sunday:

Eddie stared at Buck for almost a full minute. He looked breathtaking,  lying in the middle of their bed with his arms and legs tied to the bedpost in each corner, taking as much space as you would expect a 6’2” man to take, his lips parted waiting for Eddie’s to join them when he decided to kiss him again, and his cock hard and ready, skin shiny with the precum and spit that Eddie had used to pump him into full hardness, and so so inviting.

Eddie couldn’t wait to take him apart and give him what he wanted, to get out of his head and let all that restless energy that he had accumulated over the day finally be gone. 

“You look beautiful, Buck” Eddie whispered into his navel, his hot breath tickling Buck’s skin making him gasp “So beautiful spread out like this for me” He kissed the tip of his dick before taking it in his mouth in a sloppy and loose motion, teasing him a little like Eddie knew he liked. 

Buck gasped when Eddie tighten his lips around his length and finally gave it a proper suck, making sure to lick around the head as he came up, hollowing his cheeks  The ropes on his ankles kept him from moving or getting any leverage to buck his hips up and mouth fuck Eddie, which had been their exact purpose; Buck was awful at holding still, especially when he was being teased, he was trying to squirm, but when Eddie gently squeezed his hip he melted back into the bed.

Tagging if they wanna do this @peaceofficerdiaz @loveyourownsmiilee @cowboy-buddie @fatedbuddie @speaknowdiaz @shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @ebdaydreamer @alyxmastershipper @honestlydarkprincess @rogerzsteven @jobairdxx @souschefdiaz @prettyboybuckley @buddierights @spotsandsocks @the-likesofus @jacksadventuresinwriting @bekkachaos @hippolotamus and who ever else wants to share something!

[gg-ladybug]

Actual live footage of my tumblr ecosystem syncing up like a knock-off Bluetooth device whenever a new piece of media comes out (if you weren’t already aware of that media, you are now in that fandom by reason of systemic association):

I like to imagine it as seeing your friend of 10 years in the same dark movie theatre as you— clutching their popcorn— and sat alone. Move over, darling, we’re making a day out of this.