#PLEASE THEY'RE SO COOL

[fathers-quest]

Bug girl! Favorite bug?

"OKAY, so I've always loved fireflies because my middle name is Pyralis, which means 'bug born from fire' or something like that, right? And there's a firefly species called Photinus Pyralis, which, by the way, fun fact; different firefly species have varying flash patterns to identify each other for mating and such! Photinus Pyralis, also known as the Big Dipper firefly for its J-shape flash pattern, is super cute! Like little stars, but on the ground! And I can hold them!

BUT THEN. I feel like this doesn't cover all the bugs I like. For the Hemiptera order, I'd say I love the Dog-Day cicada. It's a super pretty green, and I'm a pretty big green enthusiast. Aha. It feels super nostalgic to me, like... a long summer day while I stayed out in the sun when I was younger. They're pretty loud, but it's easy to identify them amongst other cicada calls! Ooh, and fun fact, their name is based on the brightest star in Canis Major, AKA Sirius! Represents that they come out during the hottest days of summer.

Don't even get me started on lepidopterans. Butterflies! Moths! They're sooooo cute! Listen, some people think they're kinda freaky because their faces are weird or whatever, but I think bug faces are ADORABLE! I mean, how could you not love their big ol eyes? Anyways. Oleander hawk moths are super pretty, I love hawk moths because they have such thin wings and they're still able to fly! In fact, they're really agile and quick and aerodynamic and super pretty and. Yeah. For butterflies... probably the malachite butterfly? They're green and pretty! But all butterflies are lovely. Reminds me of a nice spring day!

Gosh, I'm really rambling in this post... but I don't want to leave any bug out. I mean... there's so many bugs in the world! Much more than any humanoid or monster out there, I bet. They're all so cool... I really wish I could go on for longer. But hey, if you're curious about a certain bug order or something like that, feel free to ask!

TL;DR... I love all bugs. That's it. All bugs. But I guess fireflies take the top pick!"

[wasyago]

i imagine it's quite chilly in the black sea (for the lack of sun and color), so they're wearing slightly warmer clothes now uwu

+ thoughts

[theandrosaur]

Body type study of elemental ninjas

[royalarchivist]

Mine: Refer to me however you want!

Mike: Yeah, for me too. I think I use all pronouns too.

[They high-five and fist-bump each other]

Mine:

[via @barbmine]

[ashwii]

INTRODUCING... "TMNT: SPLATTERED NEON"

HEHEHEHE IM SO HAPPY THAT I FINALLY GET TO SHARE THIS!! This has been a REALLY cool project in the works for a hot second, so I really hope yall enjoy it!! I MEAN, THEIR OWN THEME?? HOW COOL IS THAT HEHE <33

Big, ENORMOUS thank you to @jokingmaiden !! They reached out to me and straight up asked me if they could make me a theme song for these boys :'o and how could I say no to that?! They also have their commissions open right now too, so if you want your tmnt-theme-song dreams to come true or any other music you have in mind), their work is absolutely incredible and you should ABSOLUTELY go check em out 👀

AND thank you all so much for being so awesome and liking these boys so much ... more content of them on the way soon!

[greenglowsgold]

The List.

Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.

The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.

@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend

                              -----

                              Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.

No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.

The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…

He’s going to die tonight.

It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.

Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.

There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.

He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.

His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.

Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).

Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.

He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.

He looks down, finds Mikey.

There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.

Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.

Up a bit. To the left. Leo.

The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.

The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.

The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.

Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.

Is it enough?

His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.

What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.

Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.

The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.

Is it enough? For them to be okay?

He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.

Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.

Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.

Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.

Raph.

Mikey.

Leo.

                                                            April.

                                                                                                                        Casey.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Home.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Light.

                                                                                                                         There’s light.

                                                            It hurts.

                                                            He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.

Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.

He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.

It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.

His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.

Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.

Casey calls his name once more and starts running.

Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.

His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.

Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…

He’s…

Casey, he’s…

Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.

Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.

                                                                                                                         Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.

Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.

First thing’s first: he needs a body.

It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?

In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.

In no time at all, he’s gasping.

It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.

Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.

The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.

We lost, Casey says.

They’re dead, Casey says.

It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.

All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.

Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.

(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)

It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.

Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.

He pulls up a list.

[aracariwren]

Imps of Miitopia

Alternate coloring + trivia:

They're drawn in order by their number in the journal.

There are 2 imp Miis because there are 2 different costume models (like every job's gear) and also because I wanted to draw both the 3DS and Switch promo/default Miis.

I didn't draw a face on the blue imp (Imp "Cheery Granny"/"Traveler's Friend"/"Teammate"/"YOU") because since they're the only imp monsters who have an entire face, they vary so much throughout everyone's playthroughs depending on what Miis you have.

I also made the blue imp's collar similar to the Dark Lord's because this imp resembles the Dark Lord the most, and they only appear as bosses, so the Dark Lord must value them a lot... They're the ones he calls on for help, after all.

For the imp, naughty imp, and clever imp, whatever eyes/glasses they had when they first popped up in the journal, those were the ones I drew.

I've never played the Switch version of Miitopia so seeing the red fiend threw me for a loop.... look at him... waffle fiend....

Spoilers are for the imp Miis' outfits (because one is end-game and one is post-game) and both the terror fiend and the red fiend (mostly/only encountered post-game). Mostly for the red fiend.

Thank you for reading, I leave you with this terror fiend gif. (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♪

[juustozzi]

break trio coffee headcanons (because why not):

Kidou kinda gets deeper into hand-brewing, quite to the nerd depths but instead of making it his personality he just enjoys the meticulous preparation process. he probably has an app to follow the flow rate... and of course he has a chemex. in two sizes, most likely. he still does drink all kinds of coffee, but only in the morning, to not overcaffeinate.

Endou doesn't really drink coffee but he likes sweet coffee drinks and coffee flavored things. he has the adhd brain where caffeine makes him sleepy, so he doesn't really get people who use it to energize.

Gouenji doesn't like the coffee flavor that much, and prefers energy drinks for caffeine boost. though, he's the kind of guy who takes a cup if everyone else's having, more for the social experience than the drink itself. I think he enjoys chai a lot more.

[aeb-art]

drew omnibelle with loop :x i thought of this mira being called stormcloud and it spiralled from there

[sysig]

I invite you to imagine (Patreon)

[mik3stuff]

ngl I love this in fandoms when a small fraction of the queer community simply decides that "we have too few transfem characters, what to do? hm I know! let's take that male character with extreme loser vibes and wet cat core and headcanon her as transfem! just for fun!" and then someone takes it to analyze and- wait, why does this headcanon actually even make sense…?

[haberdashing]

Hey. All y'all who make things? Tangible physical things--art, crafts, whatever?

Plug your work on this post, and link to your shop(s). Don't be shy.

I want to help people and small businesses, especially at a time like this, but also I am not immune to the allure of Shiny New Thing Get (TM). I already bought a couple things from the ACLU store, but I know there's a world of stuff out there I just don't know about off-hand.

Give me options, guys. I know some talented folks are reading this right now. Show me what you got!

[chiscribbs]

So here's something a little off the beaten path from my normal uploads -

Last week was my best friend @koilada's birthday and I held a private art stream for her, during which I sketched some of her (our) favorite ships! Because fwenship💕 Ships and the works that they're from listed below, in order of appearance:

Elena and Mateo (Elena of Avalor)

Koen and Ludwika (OCs from one of our collaborative works)

Cass and Varian (Tangled the Series)*

*The Cassarian sketch is specifically in reference to a post-series spin-off that she and I have been writing together for some time now, which I might post more about in the future, we'll see.

It's been so long since I've attempted to draw most of these characters... My favorite thing in this entire set ended up being that Mateo, because I have not drawn him very much and I was fully anticipating him to come out looking so much worse than he did, LOL. (Side note: please forgive the missing hands, these were not meant to be finished pieces, just some relatively "quick" sketches)

[lilliemadoka]

catch u on the flipside 😘✨

(cleaned up sketch under the cut because i kinda liked it a lot. please ignore the shoes i couldn't be bothered to fix them. it's all sketchy and weird just PLEASE b nice 2 me...)

[self-indulgentmanic]

so.. Chap 4 of @princess-mach secondhand smoke amiright guys? [iykyk]

If you as a Yashita fan havent read it yet,,, go do it NOW!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/56449396

[biblically-accurate-dca]

super disorganized sketch page because i do what i want