#Oreo Jones

[smallvillecompletesme]

I find it absolutely hilariously unhinged of Smallville took a look at the Martian Manhunter in all his depth, tragedy, and badassness and then proceed to introduce him via an Oreo cookie

[scottishoctopus]

What is the Cap'n's favorite ice cream flavor??

Jones slams his claw into the railing of the ship with an extremely irritated expression.

"How many times do Ah have tah tell ye grey seagulls that Ah cannae eat anythin'?! Ah don' even know what ice cream is- uh!"

[iolite-moodboards]

scooby gang vibes

things i associate with the scooby gang!!

requests for these are open if you're interested!

fred jones~♡

diners in the middle of nowhere

late-night drives to think

coffee with cream and sugar

butterscotch

his playlist is either motivational 80s or 2000s music

saturday morning cartoons

diner pancakes

fresh, clean smell

geo guesser

lends his jacket if someone is cold

early mornings

always buying new accessories (steering wheel covers, fuzzy dice, little pine trees) for the mystery machine

attempting to read a map while driving

blue jeans

history books

interviewing priests for answers about hauntings in the area

camping

forgets to drink water

messy bedroom

daphne blake~♡

aliens and anything outer space

iced matcha

fun cereal

scrunchies

always offering to pay

binge watching tv

going to the planetarium

girly music

boxing

sneaking in past curfew

peaches

freckles

dragging friends out to stargaze

sheet masks

strawberry ice cream

taking notes with glitter gel pens

conspiracy theories

grwm tiktoks filmed in the back of the mystery machine

pinkpantheress

almond nails

velma dinkley~♡

library trips

hydro flasks

pasta

conspiracy theories pt 2

mothman

freshly brewed coffee

ballpoint pens

falling asleep on the bus

staying up until 4am reading

oversized sweaters

rock collection

digging on reddit to find their next cryptid spot

cinnamon

sunscreen always in her bag

jack stauber

lip oil

doodling stars in her notebook

sitting by the coast

gummy worms

charcoal stained fingers

shaggy rogers~♡

pizza

indie music

skating

beanies

naps

cd collection

stopping for snacks at shady convenience stores

track

skipping stones

keychains

bubble gum

an old mp3 player he won't get rid of

plants in his room

baja blast

rocky road ice cream

stealing daph's sunglasses

afraid of the dark

french fries

always smells both like he just got done grilling and like dog

superstitious

scooby-doo~♡

fancy dog shampoo (literally titled "le ham")

loves going to the beach

fetch

stealing the gang's french fries

sleeping in the back of the mystery machine

oreos

Big Stretch™

unreliable guard dog but he tries his best

hiding behind shaggy

scooby snacks

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 19

RotTMNT x Reader

@anixolt is back this week with yet another stunning piece! What's bothering Donnie? Read on to find out!

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

“… Can stacking competition certificate, cup stacking competition certificate, Oreo stacking competition certificate…” Mikey counted off each accolade with a tap against a fine tablecloth.

You were trying not to laugh the food out of your mouth.

“I have a whole folder dedicated to stacking related awards! I could go on!” While that was what he said, he actually went to take a bite of a piece of bacon.

“W-why would Oreo hold something l-like that?” You got your bite down.

“Big Nabisco works in mysterious ways!” He took on a mind blown look before he came back down. “This is nice. I’m having fun. Are you having fun?”

You had an ‘of course’ loaded, but you’d also taken another bite of croissant.

Mikey accepted an enthusiastic nod instead.

The brunch restaurant was gorgeous.

The crowds were thin.

The food was exquisite.

Your server rarely returned.

You were in great company.

It was the making of a perfect day.

“Sorry… it’s been awhile…” You eventually got out.

He blew a raspberry and waved you off.

“No… I am!” You pressed. “This is the… first time in… over a month?”

“Counting or not counting the grubby run in at the lab?” Mikey’s attention bobbed somewhere behind you.

You stiffened and looked over your shoulder to find a waiter heading your way.

You sank down into your seat so you could prepare your retort for the staff.

You would shake your head if they asked if you needed anything else.

You would nod if they asked if things were good.

You couldn’t mix those up.

“Can I help you?” The waiter asked kindly.

Your eyes shot wide as both your prepared actions couldn’t answer the question. 

“Oh, oops! Actually I was…” Mikey trailed off before chuckling. “You know what!? I’ll get something else! A stack of pancakes, my good man!”

“You got it!” The gentleman’s shoes slipped away from your view.

You peeked at your best friend.

“Apparently I flagged him!” He laughed.

You remembered the wave and came up with wobbling lips.

“I really was debating cakes, no worries. Must be fate!”

“Fate pancakes.” You smiled.

“Fate flapjacks!” He adjusted.

“Alliteration is good… um…?” You thought hard. “Fate… crepe?”

“Oh, a slant rhyme, I dig it!”

You felt satisfied and cornered off some eggs with your fork.

“But yeah, dating’ll do that to ya! Especially when you’re obsessed with each other like you guys are!”

You almost got the food to your mouth and froze.

“Like, Leo is the worst!” Mikey sang the phrase. “He gets so absorbed when he’s crushing! At least when Donnie’s face is glued to his cell, you know he’s not listening. Leo could be looking right at you, be in a conversation with you, actively answering what you’re saying, and he’ll just suddenly be like, ‘Do you think so-and-so likes pizza?’ Like bro, we were talking beach episodes, where are you even?!”

You heard a plop as your forkful flopped back down on your plate.

“Raph’s the best. He’s cute because you can drop a name and he’ll explode with embarrassment! He turns his signature color straight through the green, but otherwise, he’s the same. He listens. He’s there for you and by that I mean me. He makes an effort. You make an effort and I am talking about you this time!” He slapped his own palm in emphasis.

You scheduled brunch, you reminded yourself.

Mikey had told you he wanted it, but you had pushed to make it so. 

You made time because it had been awhile.

You missed your best friend. 

It still stung as you thought maybe you weren’t making as much of an effort or showing that as much as you could.

“I get it with you guys though! Your whole start to dating was messy so you’re making up time! Plus, you always text me! I’m only feeling like… a little left out like…” Mikey pinched his fingers in demonstration and they almost came together. He then peered through the microscopic part at you. “Maybe this much?”

“T-there haven’t been many family events…!”

“True!” He nodded his head in a sort of time.

“Mikey… I can’t stress how import-”

“We should plan one!”

You shared a look.

He broke out into a grin first. “What’s important?”

You looked away with a fluttering heart. “You.”

“Aww…!” He gushed.

“Donnie…” You returned your gaze for a different glance.

Mikey’s expression shifted for further affection.

“All of you. The Hamato. I’m so glad… we met…”

“Stop!” He tittered and almost flicked his wrist again, but thought better of it. “No more thanking parade! You’re onto the enjoying part! The easy part!”

“Easy…?” You sent him a knowing look.

“Okay so maybe you and Donnie started out as mortal enemies and then preconceived notions kept you two apart, which lead to only like a month of misery, but basically the same thing happened to us.”  

You waited.

“Except…” He turned to you. “The enemy part, but everything else!”

Your head tipped the slightest amount.

Right on time, Mikey buckled under the pressure. “Okay, it’s nothing alike!”

His pancakes arrived like a predestined cue to free him up. He forgot all about his through line and instead started talking about maple syrup. The one on the table was apparently the real kind and tapped upstate. You listened attentively, asked predictably if Mikey had ever tapped trees to which the answer was yes, and he explained why the boring process was one he never bothered to go through again.

All the while, you couldn’t stop thinking about his easy comment.

Were things easier now?

You didn’t really check in with your anxiety now because it had hit a steady current. It was there, you were better equipped than ever to handle it, and your goal of going out was getting easier and easier. After your last mega list entry, you and Donnie had decided that you were both due for regular dates first until a theater production caught your eye. You and your boyfriend discussed going at length until it was decided that you should. It was coming up soon and you were excited, but the company you kept was never a problem.

Being with Donnie was easy.

Though it bothered you that he seemingly always had his brain churning about how to act around you, it also seemed like that was something his mind did in general. You sympathized to an extent because you did the same, only it was for every other thing, but him. When you were with him, your cares were erased and energy appeared to flow. Whether it was speaking to him or moving with him, you felt like the two of you were in constant motion. Being together was a rehearsed dance that came with intrinsic steps.

“It is… easy…” You spoke the fondness you felt.

Mikey only hummed like he could read your mind and slid his plate over so you could have some pancakes as a reward.

“Let’s plan t-that family hangout…” You readied your fork.

“Yes!” Mikey beat his dish like an excited drum. “Okay, let’s see… What should we do…?”

“Uh… b-before that…O-one more t-thing…?”

He paused and looked up breezily.

“Did y-you… well… forgive me…?”

He blinked rapidly. “For what?”

You verbally chased Mikey around the flapjacks, but he never quite recalled having said you needed to be.

-

Donnie could barely take his eyes off you.

Since you started dating, the burst of your existence seemed to never cease. You were a constantly collapsing neutron star and he was haplessly caught up in the surrounding nebula. As novel as you were, he also couldn’t imagine you any other way. You reached right through his very being to grab the long shielded raw side of his psyche and begged it to stay.

He found himself lighter. He laughed more often. He had an endless expanse with which to exceed some romantic lines he’d been holding onto for literal years and you accepted them as they were. You never faulted him for his theatrics and instead did your best to play along.

He adored you.

Which was why as you triple checked the off-Broadway booking before you even left the lair, he was entranced. Scrolling on your phone appeared like an event and the finer clothes you wore for the occasion only illuminated the backdrop of you. He withheld himself yet again, as he often did since his feelings were announced because, yet again, he was chancing moving too fast.

It was a welcomed speed, but he also wanted to savor it.

His favorite flavor of paradox, it was the oxymoron by which he lived his life. He craved structure and yet he also thrived on destruction. When rules were laid down, he appreciated living within them while also prodding them for their every hole. It was a scientific principle by any name and he adored the field.

Thus as you confirmed the tickets were still in your inbox, he happily took your hand to depart. It was one lulled car ride over to the theater. Instead of filling time with conversation, he allowed the show's mounting interest to linger. One you had both immediately been keen on, he snapped up seats and you prepared the checklist. Everything fell into place as it seemed to always do with you and you were soon mingling in a lobby with others.

A check at a counter waved you through and you were flighty on the way to the seats. You’d expressed concerns about being locked in which Donnie dispelled both by citing the Fire Codes of New York State among other things. The worry clearly persisted by your anxious head swings, so he snuck in close behind you. “Good afternoon, my darling passenger.”

You looked back at him with a curious tilt.

He wanted to whisk you away.

He wanted to keep you in his lab.

He’d study why you did the things you did to his heart on a molecular level.

Ah, but you just had to be cursed with autonomy.

“This is your pre-show announcement. We are about to sit down for our show which has a duration of about two hours and seven minutes…”

You giggled as you caught on and addressed him with your full attention.

He languished in it. “While you might be expected to stay in your seats, there is no seatbelt sign. Instead, it is asked that while the stage lights are on that you are to only keep silent.”

You nodded dutifully.

“Our emergency exits…” He brought up his hands as flags and conducted outward. “… are located there by the back right of the stage and behind me where you surely entered. These doors will remain unlocked during the performance in case of emergency or if you simply want to take a call.”

You patted one of his limbs. “I’m okay…”

“You are.” He leaned into you and you leaned up for his favorite move.

Kissing you was one thing.

Hugging you was another.

Seated in a press was rapidly rising up the ranks, but the act where you tucked your nose underneath his chin was his favorite intimacy. By any other eye, it was nothing, but a tap, but for Donnie it was the pinnacle. It was not only the first contact you ever willingly exerted on him, but it also came with closed eyes from you which was a sign of pure relaxation in his eyes. You always came away from the exchange especially endeared to him and it was his dream to spend a night sleeping just like that.

Which was far in the future, he scolded himself.

You leaned away and took your own flight attendant pose to gesture him down your row. He bowed in courtesy and led the way to the seats. The flapped hinge on the retractable seats made it easy to get down the line. It had been his choice to select seats in the dead center of the auditorium as it gave optimal viewing. He watched you test getting your seat down first, before he moved to join you.

The immediate crawl through his sleeves shook him to his very core.

As you looked back and forth between the stage and exit door, Donnie pinched the scratchy armrest. The fabric coating the chair had the quality of burlap and, with one flick of his fingers, he pinched off a fuzz. That meant more would soon coat his clothes, which was another irritant. He shifted at the prospect and again his skin lit. He would have dressed differently had he known. His current coverings were inoffensive, but weren’t designed to act as a barrier. They prevented direct contact with the shoddy seat, but they also rubbed which made him all the more aware of the wretched texture.

Donnie’s eye was on a never ending twitch when you finally settled. “How did the tickets look?”

Data would soothe him. “When I last checked the system, we were looking at 74% capacity.”

Your eye left him to watch the stream of people coming in.

Two hours and seven minutes.

Could he handle that?

All signs were pointing to no, so Donnie went on the mental offense.

There were all sorts of stores nearby and he could purchase any sort of drop cloth.

As long as it was thick enough then he’d be able to stand sitting here.

That meant leaving you.

The option was deleted from his idea pool.

He refused to be anything other than attendant.

He could take you with him.

That proved difficult only because that would be a last minute change.

You had done fabulously and the day was impossibly agreeable to you for your next mega list item.

Could he interfere?

He certainly didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to blemish his amazing boyfriend track record.

He wouldn’t trade one discomfort for another.

He could stand it.

He had dealt with other sensory nightmares.

What was one more?

If he stayed perfectly still then it almost wasn’t noticeable.

There would be the show.

It would be distracting.

He could go into enough stasis with both those things that it wouldn’t be an issue.

He would have to forsake any show cuddling, but he could bear that cross.

He would hold you afterward.

Walk with you and talk about what you had seen.

It helped.

He felt his roiling epidermis cool to tiny popping bubbles.

The heat was turned off.

He would cool down.

“You okay?”

He moved only his head to look at you. “Pardon?”

“You seem… distracted?”

That was one way to put it. “I want to be in the right mindset to evaluate the performance.”

It wasn’t a lie.

You would surely accept that answer.

“Should we have…” Your fingers flexed. “… a program?”

“Playbill and not all productions create them.”

“Oh…” Your crest fell.

He could get up and look.

There was a chance they’d forgotten.

That meant he would have to sit down again.

He perished the thought.

“I’m…” You perked up on your own. “… going to… go check… I think.”

You looked at him with determination in your eyes.

He would deny you nothing.

There was a chance he could bum a cover from the box office.

Any theater production worth their weight in salt had excess fabric lying around. 

That was a workable solution and he berated himself for not coming to it sooner.

He prepared himself for the scrape of standing.

It would be his last uncomfortable movement. 

“I’ll go.” You tapped his arm. “I’ll be quick… Save our seats?”

You had a prepared gleam in your eye.

You were already in the process of standing.

A mega list item was designed so you could exercise your strength.

You were going to prove to yourself that you could do anything.

He was your back up.

You garnered strength from him.

If only you knew upholstery. “They will go nowhere under my watchful eye.”

“That and the stage…!” You took a few steps away. “D-don’t let them start without me!”

“Never.” He watched lovestruck as you shyly slipped around people to exit.

That left him alone with this fucking chair.

He would no longer be civil and scooted toward the edge of his seat. It freed most of his thighs, his limbs, and the edges of his body from the prison of repugnant fabrics. Now only the clip of his ass was tensed through its layers and he debated standing. Looking up for refuge, he debated getting a closer look at the stage for the sake of it.

A tinny sound came from his left.

Donnie looked to find several musicians readying to lay down the soundtrack. Live music had its advantages and a few preparatory notes would come next as they made sure their instruments were in order. Music had always been a faithful distraction and he was no stranger to numbing volumes. He breathed deep to let the congruent sounds wash over him when the trumpet lifted.

It gave a limp squeal that spoke of an obvious malfunction.

The way the other musicians descended on the player perfectly mimicked the way bugs assaulted Donnie’s skin. They writhed and squirmed their way through his pores until his very being shook. His teeth would chatter if it were any other sense. Instead, he slammed his enamel together and squeezed until his jaw threatened to pop because at least that pressure was one he could control.

It was going to be one of those days.

He was no stranger to overload or meltdowns, but it had been awhile. He had long learned to heed the symptoms and work with them. Two maladies in less than 10 minutes said he was already on the sensory edge which meant he needed to look further back. He could categorize the signs to give himself better projections of how long his fortitude for irritants would last. Though it wasn’t acute, there had been a few notable instances since the day began. He had been unable to stomach what was on the menu for breakfast and lunch. He also snapped at Leo exactly three times though when it was happening it seemed justified.

At the time Donnie chalked them up to excitement for the mounting date, but now they read as trigger symptoms.

He was on a much shorter timetable than he anticipated. 

If he didn’t crawl into a comfortable hovel soon then he was teetering on edge of mental collapse. 

Sighing and immediately remembering he couldn’t slump back, he stared out towards the stage. A lighting technician was adjusting something and the cover to the strobe spun as a result. It singed Donnie’s eyes and he felt that dip in clarity towards rage. Years of washing out his temperament flared as a result and it was the only thing that kept him from yelling out about the terrible preparations the crew was going through.

It wasn’t their fault.

It wasn’t their fault.

This was how plays went. They made sure everything was perfect right up until the last moment. The lights had long been tooled for hitting their marks. Someone must have noticed it was the slightest bit off so it was getting that fine tuning. Instruments were fickle beasts that needed care. It sounded like the trumpet’s mouthpiece was off. That spoke to a recent cleaning and replacement must not have been set just right. It would be corrected. That was why musicians warmed up. That was why any of these pre-show tests were occurring; issues needed to be found now and not during a performance. 

They would all be fixed.

Donnie heard you apologize to some people who had sat further down the row.

You looked flustered, but not as put out as he had seen in you in the past when trying to get out of someone’s way. You had two white slips pinched close to your chest and you flicked him an excited gaze. So, it was success that was offsetting your fear. He loved that.

You were on your way to share your victory.

He needed to cancel.

He needed to call this date off.

As much as he wanted to indulge you, if he crushed your current spirit then there was no way he could live with himself.

If he did it now, he would minimize damage. 

It was better to have a controlled burn than torch the entire day. 

You wiggled down the row and were getting closer by the second.

He had to decide.

Either way he was squashing a portion of your spirit, but it was the amount of which that mattered. 

He supposed there was always a chance he could muster the strength to carry on.

“Donnie!” You couldn’t help but give a hushed shout when you were a few sets away.

He would harbor any port in any type of weather for you. “Seems you were successful.”

“They t-thanked me…” You got to your seat and basically slapped it down to sit. “They almost forgot to pass them out. H-here…”

A piece of paper was innocent enough.

He reached out to take the leaflet.

It had a strange composition and he could feel the rough fibers.

“They’re handmade… like… all of it! The paper too!”

“Huh…” His voice had an even keel compared to his mind.

His skin was being torn apart by the playbill.

His fingers were unraveling to bone. 

At the top of the page was one errant strand.

Something akin to the size of a hair.

It marred the already marbled surface.

It was the stuck pixel ready to break an otherwise perfect television screen.

“Now you can know who each actor is…” You looked over the page without the same disdain.

“Are you sure you want me to be able to pair a name with a face?” A voice like his own teased. “I believe the actors will be in the lobby after the showing. Rife time for questions, comments, or concerns.” 

“Uh oh! A Donnie review m-makes or breaks a performance.” You pretended to be concerned, but there was a rustling on stage. 

The hands marched off which signaled it was nearly curtain call.

The musicians took their places and Donnie could feel each valve press the trumpet did as he practiced his notes.

They decompressed his cranium.

In his hand, that splotch at the top of the playbill appeared to get larger and larger.

Its ink bled and dripped into the writing.

The scrawl there warbled as if ready to fall into his lap.

There were several pieces of fuzz that had already somehow peeled off the chair and landed on his lap.

They weighed thousands of pounds and crushed his legs.

He stared at them with wide eyes.

How did they get there?

When?

He hadn’t moved.

He could count each muscle group exerted.

The lights fell.

In time, Donnie’s head rose.

The auditorium doors were closed audibly.

You shuffled in your seat.

This was the supposed lock in.

Donnie was his own captive.

The crowd hushed.

A man walked out to start the play.

His suspenders had buckles.

The buckles caught the light.

The light went in Donnie’s eyes.

The man kept moving.

He monologued and Donnie guessed the terminology should be adjusted.

He used far too much of his body.

It kept reflecting his damned buckles.

Then he was leaving and it felt like relief until the band took a breath.

They played.

The notes went in harmony.

All technically in tune.

The breath is what grated his tympanum like cheese.

He was peeled each time they had to inhale.

Which was all of it.

Every note.

Every wet gasp.

Spit gathered in reeds and catches.

It spewed out into aerosol.

He was inhaling it.

The sound was choking him.

Actors flooded out.

Talk.

Dance.

Movement.

Loud.

They stepped in it.

They expressed their own.

Spit.

Drivel.

Sputtering.

His chair was soaked.

He hunched forward and caught how his veins pressed against his flexed hands.

Inside him.

The bugs.

Your voice sounded miles away and you grazed his arm.

He didn’t look as his head spun.

The exit was flagged.

He looked through mental code.

Too many people in the way.

He calculated the trajectory.

With one press down against the miserable chair, he leapt.

Behind him, it smacked against itself in a flap and cast his decision in concrete.

He landed at the auditorium doors, but their metal bar was stricken with smudges.

Bacteria.

It coated everything like saliva.  

He manifested a simple block with his ninpo and shoved.

It touched the door to open it.

He had to immediately dispel it because the thought of spittle even touching his constructs made him ill.

He made enough of a crack.

He slipped out into the hall where the fluorescence screamed.

It drowned his tympanum and knocked him off his feet.

He stumbled and thought of shoes.

People stepping on New York sidewalks.

Spit.

Piss.

He couldn’t fall in that. 

He hobbled one way and then another.

It was all coated.

All unclean.

UV light.

The thrum of electricity would kill him, but he tried.

He flicked his ninpo like a lighter without fuel and tried to make a lamp.

The components of the filament alluded him.

He heaved.

He wasn’t breathing.

His ninpo wasn’t working.

Everything was sludge.

It slipped through his palms and splattered heavily on the floor.

He felt his vision burn up.

The singed edges as he caught fire instead.

There was yelling.

His hands flew up and tossed his goggles clean off.

Why weren’t they working?

Silence.

He needed quiet.

This was a performance.

Why was anyone shouting?

Someone touched him.

He snarled at them.

They disappeared.

No one was there.

Blinks.

His eyelids were wet.

His pupils picked up the moisture.

He clawed them shut.

He felt a shove.

He swatted back, but whatever push broom was being used to shoo his feral form was a wily one.

It hit him again and again until he saw an opening.

A door.

He dashed towards it.

There was no data past the frame.

He was out of memory.

He crumpled there on the safety of carpet.

Not the scuffed linoleum.

Instead, it was the patched kind for easy cleaning.

His hands hit it and found a tolerable scratchy quality.

He was curled up in an instant.

Made himself as small as possible.

Drowning everything out.

Minimizing all contact.

Disappearing into himself.

Him.

Only him.

Nothing else.

He could hear his breath so he stopped.

Within the cave of his arms then came his heart.

It pounded thick with the blood it surged.

It moved the wet inside him around.

Right atrium.

Superior vena cava.

Inferior vena cava.

Tricuspid valve.

Right ventricle.

Pulmonary valve.

Pulmonary artery.

Lungs.

Oxygen uptake.

Left atrium.

79 BPM.

60.

42.

39.

27.

Donnie took one breath.

His lungs whistled at their fill.

They were dried out.

He filled the husks.

Lucidity came with a pounding headache.

He didn’t know where he was.

His arms were over his head and numb.

He unfurled them and they came loosely.

The blood flow had been cut off.

He stared at them as if that were marvel until pins and needles pricked him.

They were asleep.

He found his knees next.

His feet were awake with a wiggle inside his shoes.

Then came the carpet.

Some cheap kind that was easy to clean.

Fools always alternated the swatches for aesthetics, but that made it harder to vacuum.

Why ruin utility?

His head lolled upward.

White walls with weathered clippings stuck to them.

Something old.

Something utilitarian.

Something nostalgic.

Was he in an office?

His chin moved in its perpendicular placement to his throat.

There was a being in front of him.

Their back sat rigid and they faced the door.

They were between him and the door.

They were you.

You were between him and the door.

He blinked a few times as the night rushed him.

All the data had been held from the crash in a log. 

His meltdown.

He’d run from the theater production.

Where was he now?

He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t vibrate his vocal cords.

His eyes welled at the sight of the back of your head.

What were you doing?

You turned your back on him.

He failed you.

His chin slammed into his Adam’s apple and he saw something white beside him.

It took moving his pinched legs to the other side, but it revealed a stack.

Two water bottles.

One cold with condensation.

The other room temperature.

A bag of crackers.

Expiration date in three weeks and two days.

A snack cake without branding.

A bottle of equally chilled apple juice.

His goggles.

Carefully laid atop what a cleanly folded square of fabric.

A blanket.

One that was clearly soft and aged.

He touched the last item first.

The threads were worn, but felt familiar.

He put his goggles back on, picked up the cloth, and it unfolded along the way.

He pressed it to his snout and it caressed his cheek.

He nuzzled it, building strength.

Its scent said it wasn’t his, but it was now.

He was absolutely going to steal this.

To solidify his ownership, he slung it over his shoulders.

It curled around his head and felt like a snug neck pillow.

He reached toward the water next.

The cold one warned his fingers away so he grabbed the room temperature one.

It went down like nothing.

Flavorless.

His current preference.

He remembered his goggles and it took one tap to the left headset to activate the noise canceling mode.

Now in his controlled environment, he searched the room.

This was clearly an office. There was a desk behind him and a bookcase on the wall. A few stacked boxes held programs and deliveries that weren’t yet opened. A messy spill of papers threatened to leave the desk. Business was done here.

What were you doing here?

Donnie didn’t attempt to talk, but looked up at the door.

It was shut tightly, but he couldn’t tell if it was locked.

It also seemed discolored, but not dirty. 

He stared until he realized that it wasn’t from paint, but some sort of light was reflecting against the pearl sheen of varnished wood. 

It appeared in maroon tones that read the lightsource must have been purple. 

It lowered Donnie’s eye to you.

He studied your shape until he caught your rim was light.

You were holding something.

He tipped his body to one side and his perspective shifted.

Something was glowing faintly in your arms.

Something a fuchsia color.

Something of his.

An incomplete projection of his ninpo.

One of his palms hit the floor to keep him from falling and you startled.

You didn’t look back and only seemed to strengthen your resolve in staring at the door.

Were you that mad?

He inched further to the side to catch a glimpse of your face.

You didn’t have just one object.

He counted at least four.

They appeared to be half manifested lamps.

He didn’t remember making those. 

Why were you coveting them?

You held them as if it were your solemn duty to guard them.

He gave no such command.

In a flick of his wrist, he allowed them to disintegrate.

You looked around in dismay and scrambled to catch the pixels.

They alluded you and you finally looked over your shoulder.

Your eyes were misty.

Your expression warped.

Donnie could only gape.

“I’m… sorry…” You spoke in your best hushed tone. “I tried to h-hold on… I d-don’t know why they…”

You groped the empty air.

He gestured to his chin and out with fingers to sign that it was ‘okay.’

You searched his hands wildly.

Right, you didn’t know ASL.

He hoped to teach you one day under better circumstances.

“Mine…” His voice was hoarse.

Your spine snapped to attention. “D-Don’t f-force yourself!”

He shook his head and held up a hand in a mimic of how you held those ill-formed lamps.

Your pupils flicked up and down in a study. “Those… things… were… yours? T-that’s why I tried to save them…”

He let his limb fall.

You only partially understood. 

He needed to try something else. 

He pointed to himself again with renewed intent.

You thought with your entire being before you chanced meeting his eye.

He sent all the information he could there.

“You… y-you made them… go away…?” You finally allowed yourself to wonder.

He smiled.

Weary and small, but it came into his face like it barged in.

You returned it.

You were so good.

He snapped his fingers while signaling ‘bingo’ because he couldn’t help a bit of flare. 

It sparked flickers of pixels like a lighter that didn’t catch. 

The fuschia color danced a reflection in your eyes. 

“That’s… your… ninpo…?” 

He gave a single nod. 

“You make things…?” You softened. 

His head bobbed a second time. 

“You create…” You spoke to solidify the concept with overflowing affection. “What a perfect expression of you…” 

He’d immortalize that smile in his ninpo if he could. 

Without time or energy, he supposed he had to move onto more pressing topics. 

He spun a finger in the air and cocked his brow for curiosity.

“Where… are we…?”

He nodded.

“We’ve… well I… uh… commandeered the office…?” You sheepishly glanced back at the door.

Had you broken in?

It dawned on him.

He could see everything from an omnipotent view.

His mind churned out a top-down replay of what had occurred after his figure ran from the seating area.

You chased after him.

You bumped legs and saw no one in the process.

Out into the hallway, he nearly collapsed and you tried to get his attention.

He couldn’t give it and presumably the attendant on duty saw you.

Not one to bother others for help, you’d moved on sheer instinct. 

You of all people would know if he couldn’t entertain you then no one would be good enough. 

You sought the closest door that had a hope of giving him shelter. 

This office was unlocked because a certain someone had asked for copies of the playbills.

He ran inside and you followed before the attendant could catch you.

The door was locked then.

You had been guarding him and it ever since.

While he cocooned himself, you scoured the office for items that could help.

You probably dug through the desk drawers for the snacks. 

From the cold bottle, he bet there was a mini fridge behind the desk.

You would be in so much trouble.

You didn’t care.

Or, at least. 

You didn’t appear to. 

Amongst it all, you found time to supposedly save the random ninpo constructions he’d mistakenly built.

He needed you, now more than ever. 

Could he stand it?

He didn’t even care if his body argued otherwise.

He swooped his arms out and the blanket turned into a cloak.

You made a surprised noise and he swallowed you up with the fabric.

You squirmed against his hold.

He gave you only enough space to breathe.

“Donnie! Are y-you sure…?”

He nodded against the side of your head.

You were stiff for a few more moments until you relented into his hug. It was there that your body language read awkward, but you daintily tested your nose beneath his chin. With a drop of his head, he pinned you there and you breathed warmth against his neck. Both in concern and growing affection, you eventually slacked against him. It perfectly hid you away against his body and he gave a satisfied hum that he had you to himself.

You sat like that for both an infinite and painfully finite amount of time.

He then felt the pull of Earth’s orbit and tucked his beak down into his blanket folds. He found you there and nosed your forehead until you giggled at his snuffling.

“Donnie…” You protested without a single complaint.

“You’re wonderful.” He spoke muffled against your head and plied you with a few pecks.

“Donnie…” You tried again, this time mustering up the slightest objection.

“You’re going to get in trouble… for me…” His voice oozed mirth.

You stammered on an unknown syllable.

“My betwitching nova.”

You stilled instantly. “Nova…?”

“Super.” He only clarified.

It wasn’t enough to answer your question.

“The stunning core collapse of an aged star. The end of an era. The most powerful explosion any being could ever hope to see.”

You pushed.

He released you from his cage of limbs.

You moved only far enough away to look him right in the eyes.

You wanted to see if he meant it.

You found he did.

He gave you a lopsided grin.

“I’m so glad I got to see your first crime…” He brushed your cheek with the soft cotton.

You leaned against it and pouted. “Not… the play…?”

“Who cares about the play?! I’d repeat what happened tonight a thousand times just to see you break the law again.”

“H-hey! That’s not-!”

He reeled you back in to silence you.

This time you easily fought back and he didn’t bother to keep you.

You got away on your hands and knees before turning right back around on him.

You were adorably feisty.

The fight fell right off you and what was left was equally cute concern.

“Are you…?”

“I’m okay. Tired, but okay.”

You nodded relief.

“Thanks to you.”

Nerves at the gratitude had your shoulders pinching. “O-Oh well… B-been there… or… something like that…”

“Autistic meltdown.” He identified his calamity for you. “A distress not dissimilar to a panic attack, but completely different triggers and experiences.”

You attentively nodded.

“I’d like to ask one more illegal act from you.”

You squeaked to attention.

“Break us out? I… can’t deal with anyone else. Only you. I want to go home and curl up with you. I have a sensory mode in my room. That’s what I need.”

You weighed the scales of crime against his desire and he was more than pleased to see he came out on top.

“Give me… a f-few minutes…” You nodded to him dutifully before going to check the door.

He decided then that you would never burn out.

His precious neutron star. 

Not if he kept fueling the fire.

NEXT

Me burying my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 in chapters: I love my betas!

[ddejavvu]

hi miss mei! happy mvm <3

may I please request the parents at indi's school fawnin over him as a kindergarten teacher? maybe single parent! reader catches his eye :D at a parent-teacher meeting.

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

hi lover!! this ran away from me and it's not either of your prompts but it's kindergarten teacher!indy!! i hope that's okay 😅

--

"No, Miguel, you can't-" Indiana's words fall on tiny, deaf ears as Miguel climbs the ladder regardless of his wet hands, slipping only three rungs down from the top of the play structure.

He falls fast, but Indiana moves faster, almost too fast for you to see as he throws his hands out to catch the kindergartener. Miguel lands safely in his arms, grinning up at his teacher completely unphased as you pull open the gate to the kindergartener's playground and step inside.

"You can't climb with wet hands," Indiana finishes his thought, smiling tensely at the boy, "You know that."

"I wanted to try," Miguel whines, "It was fun! My tummy felt funny when I fell."

"Well it won't feel funny when you land on your butt," You pipe up, keys in your hand as you narrow your eyes at your nephew despite the grin on your lips, "Why don't you thank your teacher for helping you?"

"Auntie!" Miguel shouts, writhing in Indiana's hold to drop to the ground. He offers the man a quick 'thank you Mr. Jones!' before racing to you, begging to be held in your arms instead.

"Hi, buddy," You grin, lifting the growing boy off of the pavement, "Ooh, you're getting pretty big."

Miguel looks pleased with your observation, like it's been a personal project of his. You turn your attention to his teacher who's watching you with a smile, eyes holding your own with an intrigued gaze.

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, "Miguel's aunt. I'm on the release form, his mom is staying late at work today. The front office cleared me." You show off a badge that says 'visitor' on it in big blue letters, stuck to the front of your shirt.

"Indiana," The man sticks a hand out, and Miguel's face wrinkles.

"Indiana," He parrots, "Like where Mommy's friend is from?"

"That's India," You correct the boy, laughing good-naturedly with Indiana as you shake his hand, "Mommy's friend is from India."

"I didn't know your name was India," Miguel stares skeptically at his teacher, who doesn't bother correcting the boy.

"That's because you have to call me Mr. Jones," He raises a brow at Miguel, ignoring the way a little blonde girl bumps into the back of his leg while she's running from her friend, "Because you're my student. But your aunt isn't, so she gets to call me Indiana."

"Okay," Your nephew decides, though you're sure he'll solely refer to his teacher as Indiana now. He turns to you, dark hair mussed from his time on the playground, "Auntie, I have to get my backpack."

"Okay baby," You set Miguel down, patting him on the back, "Go get it, but come right back, okay?"

"I didn't know you were Miguel's aunt," Indiana muses, and your attention is back on him. Now that you're not occupied with your nephew, you let yourself assess the man properly, and you find that his face is strikingly handsome, especially when his pretty eyes are cast upon you.

"I've never picked him up before," You grin sheepishly, "Usually it's his parents, yeah?"

"Mhm." Mr. Jones nods, glancing down at a dark-haired girl that tugs at his pants, "What, honey?"

She's silent as she brandishes an unopened bag of mini oreos, and he pulls the foil sides apart to open the treat, "There, now go sit at the tables, okay? No food in the grass."

She does as she's told, plopping back down in her seat in front of a butterfly-shaped lunch box.

Miguel's done exactly what you'd warned him not to do, and he's talking to his friends, no doubt discussing a bug they've found or bragging about the dollar he'd gotten from the tooth fairy the night before. You aren't upset, though, because it means you have more time to bask in Mr. Jones's piercing stare as he turns back to you.

"So, is this gonna be a regular thing?" He asks, a deep drawl to his voice, "You picking him up, I mean."

"Probably not," You lament, "His mom just had to take some overtime today, and his dad is out of town for the day."

"That's a shame," Indiana muses, "Y'know, I saw you at the supermarket on Saturday, but I thought cornering you in the produce section might not come off great. Here I thought we'd have a chance to talk."

Your spine stiffens slightly at the knowledge that what must be the most handsome man you'd ever seen has set his sights set on you, and you clear your throat, "Really?"

"Yeah." He grins, leaning back on one of the tables, "I thought we'd have easier conversation here. Chatting about macaroni brands isn't exactly riveting, is it?"

"If I came to pick up Miguel on Thursday..." You trail off inquisitively, and Indiana's smirk grows.

"I'd be here. I swap with another teacher Mondays and Wednesdays," He informs you, "But next week is different. I think I should send you the schedule, just to make sure you have the dates right."

"863-" You're already reciting your number before he's pulled out his phone, and you share a chuckle at the quick flow of the conversation.

"Auntie!" Miguel returns just as Indiana's pocketing his phone again, a wink thrown your way, "Look! A cricket!"

"Oh," Your eyes widen at the bug in your nephew's hands, "Uh, can you leave him here? He's not allowed in my car."

"Okay," Miguel concedes drearily, but he drops the cricket in the grass without complaint, "Bye cricket!"

"Bye cricket," You repeat, much more apprehensively, "Okay, buddy, you ready to go?"

Miguel takes your hand to drag you to the gate, and you're the one that turns to say goodbye to his teacher.

"Goodbye Indiana," You call, and the man waves with that charming smile of his, "See you Thursday!"

[hetaologist]

APH America "Ethnography" and Headcanons (SFW)

The United States of America, Alfred F. Jones, Mr. Stars and Stripes, 'Merica, Pretty Boy, um... or just simply America.

Here is a list of data I have gathered from this country and oh boy, what an interesting specimen we have here....

Ethnography

You will find this find this mythological creature at your local Walmart superstore during the evening hours on a weekday, sporting flannel loungewear pants (The plaid kind), a cotton t-shirt that definitely has been worn no less than two (2) times, Old Navy $1 flip flops, and a gray jacket.

When asked about his late night runs to the popular supermarket chain, his answer is just simply:

"There's nothing else to do and no where to go."

America's Cart Inventory for March 22nd:

One (1) package of "Mega Stuf Chocolate Oreos" for $5.97, One (1) 6-Pack of "Starbucks Frappuccino Chilled Coffee Drinks" in Caramel Flavor for $7.98, One (1) Family Sized Bag of "Flaming Hot Cheetos" for $5.94, One (1) "Furby Interactive Toy" for $39.19, and One (1) Stick of " Axe Apollo Men's Deodorant Stick" for $4.97. Total of purchase was $64.05 before tax.

When questioned about the "Furby Interactive Toy", he replies:

"Yeah dude, there's this thing I wanna make that's called a "Long Furby". Wanna come by my place and check it out?"

I agreed to the invination as it would give me a better look into his living space and lifestyle. He's very friendly person.

Living Space (Home):

Oh dear god, why did I agree to come here?

House is a what you would expect from a typical American college student such as:

"Saturdays Are For The Boys" banner flag, Marvel and DC posters, a very unsettling looking blue leather couch that looks like it has been through hell and back, random dumbbells and untouched exercise equipment, every game console from the 1972 "The Magnavox Odyssey" to the PS5, action figures from various popular TV shows and comics, an old KFC bucket with half eaten chicken on the coffee table and a shelf with a huge vinyl record and CD collection.

Conclusion: What a fucking gross nerd.

America offers a cold can of Coca-Cola, I accept it.

He shows me a very long light blue "Long Furby" from his collection, further proving how much of a dork he was.

When asked what kind of music he liked (in regards to his music collection), he replies:

"That's hard to answer, it changes every week. Because of my diverse music, I pretty much like everything. One week I could be listening to 1980's classic rock, 2000's techno-pop, Bluegrass Country, 1990's Hip Hop or anything. But, if I had to give you this week's favorite artist, it would have to be Taylor Swift and Doja Cat."

"Interesting..." I replied.

I have recorded enough data for today (the smell was bothering me) and left his home to do further extensive research.

Headcanons:

America has a deep love for cars and trucks, he can be seen working on his vintage 1968 Dodge Charger R/T called 'Thunderbird' (an absolute speed demon that can reach at top speeds of muthafuckin' 156 mph), and his enormous 2019 Ford F-150 'Big John' that he loves to drive to world meetings because he is a total stud muffin showoff.

Oh yeah, he defiantly modded 'Big John' horns with airblasters. So when he parks his car and he sees other nations come out of their vehicles, he pounds on that horn and scares the living shit out of them.

He totally does 2 am donuts in the Thunderbird the front of Walmart parking lots with his brother Canada to freak him out.

Other than seeing him work on his cars while listening to "Waking Up in Vegas by Katy Perry" on the radio, he's in his room sorting out his action figure and comic book collection.

Damn, what what a geek.

He has an eBay account where he buys, trades and auctions his collection as his interests constantly change.

If you think him being a geek, dork and a nerd is gonna save him from getting a basic ass Stanley cup, you're wrong.

He has a navy blue one that he takes to meetings and he would get dirty looks from the other nations.

"Goddamn it America, you do not need that much coffee."

"Fuck you, you scone sucking twink. It's not coffee, it's the Panera Super Charged Lemonade mixed with Redbull."

"I beg your fucking pardon..."

He gave Canada a red one for his birthday that he also takes with him to meetings.

"Canada, mon ami~. That better not be that merde American drinks that makes your heart explode."

"No, it's Tim Hortons iced coffee."

"Well.. that's better than what America drinks..."

[ausssbutlershortstories]

I think I will give your a break with the Kaia talk on here and ask something completely different. What are 20 random facts about yourself?

Wow this is different lol..

1) I like peanut butter and oreos together. The Parent Trap put me on as a kid.

2) I am the baby of my family , youngest kid.

3) I hate most seafood. It’s so nasty to me.

4) I did gymnastics from the age of 5-13, and did cheerleading for a little after.

5) I can be extremely impatient.

6) Aquarius is my sign.

7) My main love language is cooking 🧑🏾‍🍳

8) Favorite Disney movie ever is The Lion King (RIP James Earl Jones 🕊️)

9) My road rage is absolutely cringe. I will flick someone off for the smallest things 😭

10) I usually don’t like blondes , I go for darker haired men. Austin is the first one in awhile that I liked.

11) Not sure if any millennials following remember who the wrestler the Undertaker was but that man gave me the creeps . Anytime his segments came on when my Dad and brother would watch wrestling I will turn my head like I am watching a horror movie. All that just to grow up to be a horror movie addict as an adult lmao 🤣

12) I believe in God ✝️

13) I workout twice a week.

14) One of my favorite chain restaurants is Panda Express 😋

15) I would love to travel to Italy one day.

16) I am tiny , I am only 5’2

17) My playlist is all over the place . Listen to it and you’ll go from country , to some ratchet ass rap song and go right into a praise and worship one after that lol

18) I curse like a sailor

19) I am a big Marvel /DC Comics fan.

20) I love wine. You can keep the hard liquor. Pour me a glass of barefoot please.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Etiquette? No. Bruce is a Menace to Society.

by gravy_writes How exactly does Bruce Wayne get revenge on Alfred Pennyworth? Not without it backfiring on him... Words: 1348, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Justice League - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Diana Prince, Diana of Themyscira, Hal Jordan, Barry Allen, John Stewart, Shayera Hol, J'onn J'onzz, Batman, Daddybats - Character, Kal-el, Superman, Wonder Woman - Character, Green Lantern Hal Jordan - Character, Green Lantern John Stewart - Character, Hawkgirl, The Flash - Character, Martian Manhunter, John Jones, Ace the Bathound, Titus the great dane Additional Tags: Alfred the Butler - Freeform, Alfred the buttler, with two t's, Mentioned Duke Thomas, Mentioned Tim Drake, Mentioned Cassandra Cain, Mentioned Damian Wayne, technically, they are actually there just not by name, Alfred the cat is there in spirit, Background Clark Kent/Lois Lane - Freeform, background John Stewart/Shayera Hol, J'onn J'onzz/Oreos - Freeform, Stephanie Brown is also mentioned, Steph is basically a Wayne kid, adopted in spirit, she has a room at the house too, Crack Treated Seriously, batfam shenanigans via https://ift.tt/WaAfYIP

[ratherchaseamouse]

New oc!

Name: Oreotorio (pun on “oreo” and “oratorio”)

Pronouns: they/he/she in a dyke way

Three words: flamboyant, righteous, polished

Appearance: ultra-fluffy long haired tuxedo cat with white paws that look like black-tie gloves. Big-boned and proud of it. They can often be seen with a starched collar and bow tie with their whiskers neatly waxed

Relationships: sibling to Fiorello (another oc), half-sibling to Mistoffelees, Victoria, and Alonzo, child to Bustopher Jones

Fun facts: Oreotorio is an opera singer, they studies acting under Asparagus jr. and voice under Jennyanydots. He’s sometimes accompanied with his brother Fiorello’s viola, and they occasionally sing duets. They greatly admire Mister Mistoffelees’s skills, as they are neither a dancer nor do they have magical affinity. They hate rehearsing within earshot of others, and prefer to simply present a finished performance to an audience. His tastes in all things are quite expensive, and he often solicits the services of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer when he’s gone too long without caviar or swordfish, or another favorite dish.

(The picrew is an approximation, I’ll get around to making a heroforge model or maybe even drawing him at some point)

[mypurpleriver]

Households total: 21 Sims total: 74 Pets: 25 (Dina, Poppy, Mocca, Toffee, Flora, Fox, Cookie, Chilli, Smoothie, Tinky, Papaya, Rufus, Goldi, Cupcake, Muffin, Coconut, Caramel, Oreo, Bubble, Twinkle, Joker, Stella new: Dusty, Cappuccino and Cooper)

Births: 7 (Femie Applegate, Geralt Deer, Hilda Plum, Irene Space, Jelka Vital, Keanu Vital, Lyna Mint) Deaths: 4 (Jack Greene, Oren Jone, Stevan Mint + Mango, Daisy)

Engagements: 4 (Willow & Jessie, Henry & Nora, Wynce & Ryan, Levi & Aureen) Weddings: 3 (Willow & Jessie Deer, Henry & Nora Deer, Wynce & Ryan Nova-Moore) Divorces/Break-Ups: Quna and Shane

Communitylots total: 31 New Communitylots: 1 - Purpleccino

Next round: » We'll have more households in the next round. Abby and Cleo have moved into the apartment next to Kyan and Ben. » Pixie is pregnant by Buck, and they seem very much in love, I think I'll let them move into their own place together :3 » I'm not sure what to do with Quorra, maybe she'll move out on her own or with her sister? » Vania and Veena are becoming adults too. And Jessie is pregnant with Willow. So space is needed for the new baby. Or maybe Jessie and Willow will move into their own place? I'm not sure. » Wynce and Ryan also have to move out as the house is already too small for them » Mila is also pregnant from a booty call. 😂 » Ivo and Jovan are grown up now too and can move on, but I'm not sure if they should move out or not! » So there will be more noobos and new households! 😅 » I'm also curious to know what happens next between Levi and Aureen? And what about Ben and his affair with Edgar?

So a lot happened in the last round, and we'll see how it develops in the next one. Stay tuned! 😁

[moonlit-starlit]

Zodiacs as names I have had for my cats + name inspo behind them

Warning: I have owned many cats. Many of them I no longer have either due to me having to give them to a better home due to financial issues at the time, or them reaching old age).

Aries: Smokey (2018, he was a Russian Blue)

Taurus: Maxwell (2015, He just looked like a Max)

Gemini: Lucille (2015, She was preppy like Lucille from JUNIE B. JONES (my childhood book))

Cancer: Oreo (2019, he was black and white)

Leo: Angel (2015, She was the sweetest cat ever)

Virgo: Bluebell (2017, My beloved russian blue, the queen of my life, the it girl of the house)

Libra: Bella (2017, A beautiful cat, thus, Bella)

Scorpio: Midnight (2017, he was pure black)

Sagittarius: Morris (2023, My mom nicknamed him this as a kitten and now he comes to it)

Capricorn: Sophie (2023, she just looks like a Sophie)

Aquarius: Rusty (2023, he had brown spots on him that made him look rusted)

Pisces: Squeaky (2017, he had a strange meow that made

[howldean]

9 ppl to get to know better

tagged by @meatmensch xoxo !!

list 3 ships you like: garthbennybess!!!!!! i can make it work. on the topic of polyamory also leverage ot3 <3 murder husbands i do find hannigram compelling. get eated

first ship ever: i think quite honestly myself x disney’s animated robin hood. yes the fox

last song you heard: does the succession theme song count. otherwise it was whole lotta love by led zeppelin because i broke out my vinyl today

favorite childhood book: i ate warrior cats the FUCK up but if we’re talking even younger then i adored the biscuit books and skippyjon jones (which. uh. i just remembered is. well. uh oh)

currently reading: honestly a fuckload of fanfiction right now. and picking through they can’t kill us until they kill us by hanif abdurraqib because i need to start reading at a complex level again so i don’t Explode Forever

currently watching: supernatural always. my mom and i spent the last five days binge watching succession and just finished like twenty minutes ago. and i’m also rewatching doctor who (this time folding in torchwood because i was like eight when i started watching with my dad and brother and my dad thought that was too grown up for me)

currently consuming: large stack of oreos 👍

currently craving: to love the infinitesimal things about the world because i’m soso scared all the time and really miss feeling a love as immense a feeling as my fear. over like. a cup of tea or a ray of sunshine. sasha is cute this helps

tagging, no obligation 🫡 @pussypopstiel @loveofastarvingdog @cowboycunt @chapeldean @archangelraphael @deadmervsociety @rancid-crows @crabs-but-better @heller-castiel

[lightingelectratwo]

My headcanons about the jellicle cats names.

Human name: Alonzo jellicle name:marled

Human name: Asparagus (Gus) jellicle name:bumblestole

Human name: Peter jellicle name: Asparagus Jr.

Human name: Hestia jellicle name: Bombaulrina

Human name: Bustopher Jones jellicle name:jelliotim

Human name: Cassandra jellicle name:Gracelora

Human name: Apollo jellicle name: Coricopat

Human name: Demeter jellicle name:Rusabub

Human name: Electra jellicle name:skimbla

Human name: Ectetera jellicle name:Lillus

Human name: Pandora jellicle name: Exotica

Human name: George jellicle name: aragus

Human name: Indigo jellicle name: Grizabella

Human name: Lily jellicle name: Jellylorum

Human name: Jemima jellicle name:deubub

Human name:Dolly jellicle name: Jennyanydots

Human name: orange fluffy Jellicle name: Macavity

Human name: Oreo jellicle name: Mr Mistoffelees

Human name: Clyde jellicle name: Mungojerrie

Human name: Smokey jellicle name:Munkustrap

Human name: Gray fluffy Jellicle name: Old Deuteronomy

Human name:Plato jellicle name: bumblepots

Human name:Cola jellicle name: Pouncival

Human name: Joey Ramone jellicle name:Rum Tum Tugger

Human name: Bonnie jellicle name: Rumpltezaer

Human name: Persephone jellicle name: Sillabub

Human name: Butterscotch jellicle name: Skimbleshanks

Human name: Artemis jellicle name: Tantomile

Human name:Tiddles jellicle name: Tumblbrutus

Human name: Victoria jellicle name:illika

[augment-techs]

Pairing Asks: RJ/Casey and Carter/Ryan?

R.J./Casey Rhodes: -R.J. calming down Casey's inherent anxiety issues like the good boy he is, but still not being very good about answering questions with more questions. Everyone else might hate it, but Casey finds it...calming. -Casey getting fattened up every single time he comes back from teaching in the mountains with a hundred cubs. R.J. would love to do this entirely through pizza, but he is aware that there are people who can't live off of that; so he makes Casey rotisserie chicken, hot chocolate truffles, roasted potatoes, fresh green salads with homemade dressing of choice, and a whole host of fish dishes. Casey drags R.J. along to the shops for Oreos, fancy rice cake treats, salted caramels, and a whole number of Poptarts that come in various flavors. -HEAD PATS. CHIN SCRITCHES. BUTT GRABBING. Carter/Ryan -Carter introducing Ryan to international animation of all flavors and types just to see Ryan light up sitting on the couch with the fireman, watching things like Coraline, Tales of the Night, The Snow Queen, Leafie: A Hen into the Wild, Loving Vincent, WALL-E, Rudolph, and every Chuck Jones short film and Ghibli cinema release possible. Always Carter makes sure to wrap the both of them in blankets with salty or savory snacks. -Ryan encouraging Carter to eat healthier and more...raw? Dishes? But not like the Rocky movies where they crack six eggs into a glass and swallow them; more like sushi, grains, veggies, fruits, and VERY rare meat. In return Carter makes Ryan eat things OTHER than meat--his favorites being all the variations on cabbage, rice, and potatoes (Irish, Russian, and Asian foods are the BEST). -Sleeping in patches of sunlight on their days off. Just because.

[angelslilcubby]

Hello, you can call me Angel or Mac.

If we are friends or become friends you may call me by the names I have listed or nonbinary Nicknames. I act as a babysitter/platonic caregiver to some agere friends to help them cope with trauma in a healthy manner.

I'm a nonbinary, queer writer and artist. I go by she/her and they/them pronouns. I'm 25 years old and taken by my boyfriend/partner/caregiver. I'm wiccan but tend to lean towards being spiritual in general and take from many religions and am open to learning about other religions. I will post sfw content, might occasionally post about ways to cope with certain traumas and things I've learned through therapy and what not. This is a safe space and will be treated as such. It's a safe space to talk and express yourself in a healthy manner. If you are here to bully or are a map you can get the heck off my page. This is a safe space for everyone, regardless if you are agere or not. I support lgbtq+ among many other things. We are inclusive and accepting on this blog and all walks of life are welcome. If you are kink please don't interact, I do not want that on this blog as it would be triggering to age regressors and their trauma. Be appropriate and respectful of my safe space. Any posts that have trauma that is triggering I will put a tw on it. If you see a tw keep scrolling if you can't handle the subjects of various traumas.

Mom to @sleepypuppycozy give them a follow, and please be appropriate when interacting with anyone online. We are human and have feelings. If you harass or are inappropriate to me, my daughter, or any of my friends, you will be reported and blocked.

Sign: Taurus ♉️🐂🐮

Bday: 4/20

Big age: 25

Lil age: 2-12

Fav Season: Fall 🍂🍄

Fav holiday: Halloween🎃🕷🦇

Fav foods: Sushi, pizza, ramen, beef stroganoff, Dino nuggies, Mac n cheese. Asian food and Hispanic food. I love Indian fry bread.

Fav desserts/candy: pocky, gummy sharks, dark chocolate, oreos, pie, cookies, circus peanuts

Fave drinks: apple juice, chocolate milk, and strawberry lemonade Arizona.

Fav shows: Supernatural, bluey, my little pony

Fav movies: Underworld, jurassic park, deadpool, Indiana Jones

Fav colors: purple, pink, red, black, blue

My aesthetics: goth, grunge, pastel goth, cottage core, hippie and renaissance era dress style.

Fav animals: Horses, rabbits, rats, frogs, red panda, cows, crows

Fav things to do: hiking, kayaking, biking, swimming, reading, watching anime/movies/k-dramas/TV shows, gaming, baking desserts, gardening

Fav bugs: isopod, moth, butterflies, preying mantis, dragonfly

Fav games: the last of us, animal crossing, Pokémon violet, smash bros, 7 days to die

Fav toys/plushies/fidgets: tangles, chewlery, calico critters, my littlest pet shop, monster high dolls, squishmallows, squishable, bluey, Bratz dolls, anything sanrio

Fav lil things: pacifiers, sippy cups, onesie, crinkle/sensory toys, baby blankets, coloring books, stickers

I'll update this post more as time goes on and if I see things that need to be addressed or talked about.

[coolgirl32]

What flowers do they give her on Valentine's Day part 1

You all know the drill, no copywriting, reposting or translating without my full permission do not forget to like and follow and also don't be scared to request what you want me to write next so let's get on with the post.

Batman: red roses

He gives her red roses on Valentine's Day I'm not just talking one bouquet of roses I'm talking a whole bunch of them and with a card that says Happy Valentine's Day love Bruce Wayne he also gives her a beautiful diamond necklace even though she didn't ask for one he still got her one.

Superman: daisies

He would give her a bouquet of daisies he would also make a card by himself that wrote Happy Valentine's Day love Clark Kent he may not buy the most expensive things for her but she does appreciate what he's doing and she always loves his gifts.

Green arrow: lavender

Instead of a bouquet of flowers he takes her to a field of lavender the smile on her face makes him happy there he would tell her happy Valentine's Day and she would tell him Happy Valentine's Day he knows this makes her happy because lavender is one of her favorite flowers there they took a picture together to remember it all.

Green lantern: sunflowers

Like green arrow, instead of getting her a bouquet of sunflowers he brought her to a field of sunflowers where he gave her a card that said Happy Valentine's Day love Hal Jordan she loved it very much he also got her a bracelet with beautiful gems on it they both watch the sunset and had a picnic together.

Aquaman: water lily

He would bring her a bunch of water lilies and put them in her pond (yes she has a pond and it's beautiful) and say Happy Valentine's Day to her they would both then have dinner together and watch comedy romantic movies together.

Martian manhunter: calla lily

He would give her a bouquet of calla lilies with a pretty necklace that has a beautiful red gem on it a card that says Happy Valentine's Day from John Jones they would then watch old classic romantic movies that was from the 1950s and they would eat popcorns and eat chocolate Oreos and classic Oreos with milk and they would have a wonderful day.

I hope you all like this I'll be doing a part too