#also damn actual writing???

[queenofallimagines]

Meet cute~

Isagi x fem Reader

A/N: Morning to all the baddies✌🏿Nothing gets you in the mood to write than starting something brand new and not working on WIPs😘 based off a rly cute TikTok I saw I think isagi would be one of the ones to meet his S/O in a super cute way

CW: black reader but not rly focused on, bad grammar it’s like 4:45 am sorry,foreigner reader, was gunna sneak in like artist reader or something but the way it’s so ambiguous is cute, Bachira the pot stirrer, he also knows Spanish a little,U-20 captain isagi?? polyglot reader, She’s afro latino, Isagi falling in love at first sight. Let me know if I missed anything!

TAGLIST: @priv-rose

"Did you see the way shidou kicked rin?” Bachira could barely breathe as memories of today’s practice filled his mind— he looked over at isagi, who was shaking his head in faux disappointment, trying to hide a smile.

“Course i did, poor rin.” Isagi chuckled, running a hand through his hair. the striker was about to add onto his sentence but the feeling of someone bumping into him distracted him. he peered over his shoulder, a small smile on his face when he saw who it was. “mm… you good?”

Looking up at him with apologetic eyes she anxiously rushes out her words.

“Ah, im Sorry!”

“It's fine, it was an accident, it happens." Isagi smiled softly, and that smile would remain on his face even as he noticed her hair. his eyes lingered on it for a moment too long, taking in the way it was pushed out of her face, the colour of it.

“Nice hair."

“Huh?” He watches as she brings a hand up to her hair reflexively fidgeting with it. “oh uh thanks. I like yours too….”

“You do? thank you, it's nothing special." He smiled still staring down at her hair. he realized he was staring and cleared his throat. After a brief moment, he spoke. Trying to clear the awkwardness.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, where are you from?" He fumbles out awkwardly internally wincing at how nervous he sounded. But he was curious as to the way she spoke. her accent sounded familiar to him, almost foreign.

“I guess but it really suits you! Shapes your face really well. And, I mean… if you’re asking where I was before Japan I’m from America.”

“Oh you think so?" Isagi's cheeks had begun to turn red, he could feel the blood rushing to his face as he smiled sheepishly Rubbing the back of his neck.

‘America? He was right, he thought. She spoke differently.’

“Ahh, you're an American, yeah? Is that why you speak funny?" He teased playfully, smiling down at her. Watching her wince a little at his words and he immediately felt embarrassment wash over him. Saying she talked weird wasn’t really polite was it? He watches as she chuckles nervously at him.

“ah, kinda? America has a lot of different accents depending on region so I’m not sure which one takes precedence when I speak Japanese. Nodding his head in relief she didn't deny it, so isagi decided to continue with his questioning.

“Okay, but what region are you from? Are you from the South?" Tilting his head slightly, his eyebrow cocked, curiousity sparking in his eyes.He tries to hide his smile as he watches her face morph into shock. Her eyes were really pretty from where he was standing…

“That easy to tell huh?”

“Yeah." Isagi snickers, he continued. "The way you speak….it's different— a lot more laidback, but not like the Tokyo-y, or Osaka accents. The American accent isn't quite heavy, but not super light either. There's no way it’s something like Texas, Florida, or California, but I'd guess somewhere in the South, closer to the South-east. Am I right?" Looking at her expectantly he can’t help but get lost in her eyes.

“….. Spot on again. I moved from Texas but I was born and raised in the east coast so sometimes I’m New York sometimes I sound more like Houston or New Orleans. Depends on the words I’m saying and how fast I’m talking.” He was actually surprised that he'd managed to guess correctly not one, but twice! With the way the corners of his lips crept upwards, he didn't realize how much he liked talking to her. As the conversation continued, he found himself smiling.

“Wow, so you're just all over the place huh, like a rainbow?" His heart fluttered hearing her giggle reach his ears. It sounded so melodious.

“yep!” Humming in thought he shoots her a smirk. “It'd be interesting to hear how you speak, like if you were super angry or something." The black haired boy teased, not realizing the flirtatious implication it could have.

“I’ve been told I talk faster and with more force so probably New York. And then I speak Spanish too so definitely that.” At the mention of her being able to speak a third language, Isagi's eyes widened. He leaned closer his curiosity growing.

“You can speak Spanish?"

“Mhm. My family is Latin American so Spanish fluency runs through my family.”

Isagi's eyes twinkled with an undeniable sparkle of curiosity. he was definitely intrigued. He’s only heard some of the players on opposing teams he’d play curse at him in Spanish but never actual full on sentences. his lips curved upwards slightly. "Can you speak it right now? If you don't mind." He watches as her eyes far around for a second before letting his again. He felt a little bad for putting her on the spot like that but not bad enough to take it back.

“Oh uh sure. Uhh” She hums for a second before clearing her throat.

“Hola, isagi y bachira. Encantado de conoceros. Los dos sois muy guapos.”

(Hi, isagi and bachira. Nice to meet you both. You are both very handsome)

Isagi's eyes widened with amazement, a look of pure joy on his face. he clapped his hands together. “That's amazing! You speak it so well!" His face flushed at the compliment.

“You know what, I have a question for you." His grin grew into a bigger, brighter smile. Her way of speaking had a certain musical quality to it. He watched her closely all the while, his eyes taking her in, and listening to the way she spoke. She'd said something about them being handsome he thinks? He looked at Bachira who'd been witnessing the conversation the entire while, he noticed his friend's eyebrows raise slightly, and a small smile come onto his lips.

‘Did she just call us handsome?’ Bachira mouthed to him. He knows Bachira definitely isn’t fluent playing in Spain and spending time around Lavinho he must’ve picked up on some. He understands it better than he does English anyway. Feeling his heart racing he looks at her without missing a beat.

"Can I try something?" His gaze didn't waver from the way her lips curved at the sides, her smile being a mere testament of her good features.Quirking an eyebrow at him she looks at him confused for a second before cautiously replying.

“Okay?”

“Say my name." Isagi said, his words laced with a soft breath. Taking half a step closer he watched her lips closely, taking in how each syllable looked as it left her lips. He heard her breath hitch as those beautiful eyes widen looking up at him.

“Yo- I mean Isagi Yoichi.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at the way she said his name. he'd told her to do so, he'd expected it, but the way she'd said his name had his heart beating out of his chest..

"Say Bachira." She chuckles smiling at him confused but obliging him anyway.

“Bachira.” Isagi's gaze remained fixated as he watched her lips form each syllable. He was enjoying this and his brain hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he was enjoying this.

“Say your own name." She smiles at him before speaking her own name. He can’t help the shiver that runs up his spine. The way the words flowed out of her mouth like honey, her tongue curling around every vowel. He would do anything to hear her talk forever if he could. The way her accent was almost hypnotic to his ears. It seemed even her name had no special effect on him.

“I have to tell you, your accent is so cute." He tilted his head slightly as he continued.

"One more thing." The stunned look on her face had him biting back a smile. That deer in headlights look was absolutely precious. It wasn’t until then did he notice the difference between them. The way she looked up at him made something inside him go absolutely wild.

“Oh. Uh thanks.”

“How about you say... isagi yoichi is an absolute cutie?" He teased playfully. He knew when saw her flustered face he had to tease her just a bit more. Like if he’s gunna try and shoot his shot he’s going to put himself at an advantage. Grinning, he was having so much fun, he forgot Bachira was watching the two of them carefully now. His eyes darting back and fourth between the two.

“Yoichi Isagi es precioso.”

The athlete felt his heart stop. He wasn't actually expecting her to do it! And so quickly without any hesitation. He was stunned into silence. His jaw had dropped and his cheeks were blazing bright. Bachira hadn't missed or misread what had just happened. He laughed quietly, a smile tugging at his lips.

‘Damn.. Did that really just happen? Talk about matching energy.’

She laughing seeing his flushed face. He looked like he was trying to find words but forgot how to speak at all.

“Uh,you ok?” Isagi who was was still blushing, lifted the corners of his mouth tilted upwards in embarrassment and joy. Bachira was just barely holding back a laugh. When he found his voice he finally managed to speak after a moment.

“Y-yes. I'm very okay." Isagi's voice was still laced with embarrassment, but he continued anyway. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?" His voice still laced with embarrassment, but there was genuine curiosity behind it now. He tries to steady his heart as he looks at her expectantly. He watches as she looks at him surprised stuttering out her words.

“W- I- no?? Like I don’t. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Isagi nodded, his mind reeling. This day was wild already, she was flirting with him, he was flirting with her– it was really something else. He couldn't deny that the idea of her not being taken was something that gave him the confidence to continue.

"You don't?" He asked again, this time a little slower just to hear her say it. His eyebrows rose, his cheeks were hot with embarrassment, his mind began to race. Deep blue eyes remained on her, he couldn't help staring. He didn't need any other confirmation other than this. he smiled softly, trying to hide just how happy her answer made him.

“Oh, So that means there's no one who'd come and beat me up if I asked you out?" He asked her jokingly, but his voice still remained soft.

“o-oh uh no that wouldn’t happen….” Smiling wider as he caught onto the fact that she'd blushed. She was too adorable, the way her eyes were looking at everything but him. Her hands nervously pulling at her shirt. That, and her soft, smooth voice was sending him into a state of bliss.. And he was starting to get carried away. His grin grew.

“Wellll... Can I ask you something then?"

“Y-yeah?” Shyly looking up at him he noticed the tips of her ears looking red.

“Would you like to go out with me?" He had put all his cards out on the table now and was waiting in anticipation as he asked her. He could hardly believe that he'd gotten to the point of asking her this. His heart was beating out of his chest and there was something happening in his stomach. It wasn't pleasant... The nerves were eating away at him.

“Mhm….i would.” Isagi felt his breath catch in his throat as she agreed. His cheeks were heated, his palms were sweaty, his fingers were trembling. He couldn't breathe. Everything about this felt surreal, there had to be a catch. But, no. It was really happening, he really just asked her out on a date and she agreed.

“Really?" He watches intently as she rocks on the heels of her feet looking away from him. “Mhm.”

His heart was still beating out of his chest. His whole body felt tingly as his cheeks grew hotter. Her answer had taken him by surprise, it'd been a lot easier than he thought it'd be to ask her. His eyes were drawn towards her lips, they were so cute and looked so soft…

Just before he could say anything though, Bachira coughed.

"Isagi?"

Jolting she glances over at him flushing in embarrassment forgetting he was there. She’d completely put all her focus on the boy flirting with her. Bachira looked more like an amused observer, his lips curled up into a small smile. Isagi was flustered to have been caught staring, he snapped out of his thoughts to glance over at him. He felt his face grow even more hot.

“W-what?"

He felt a wave of embarrassment slack him in the face as his friend’s laughter rang out. he'd been enjoying watching what was going on behind the scenes. Bachira's teasing was usually directed towards Isagi, who was easy to tease. So, seeing him be the one getting teased for once and being affected this much by was entertaining.

"You're all red, man.." Bachira teased, the corners of his lips remained curled upwards.He whips his head around to hear the girl snickering at him, hand over her mouth.

“Shut up." Isagi tried his best to sound annoyed, but his voice came out sounding flustered. He was very flustered, he was still red like a tomato. His mind couldn't seem to come up with anything else.. The only thing his body was focused on was her. Her pretty face, her soft voice, her sweet smile, her laugh…. Flinching he felt her grab his hand and he froze.

“Here.”

His heart skipped a beat as she grabbed his hand and held it firmly. He couldn't help, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. Was she really holding his hand? Her touch was so soft... her grip was gentle, yet firm.. He found himself trying not to close his eyes in that brief moment. She steps closer to him turning to hold her hand in front of him. He was hoping she couldn’t feel his heart beating out of his chest as her back pressed up against his chest. He feels frozen where he stands as she writes her name and number across his wrist.

“How about you can decide after you win your next game yeah? I’ll be watching so don’t disappoint me.”

His eyes remained on her as she wrote her number down on his wrist, their thumbs grazing together and sliding together for a brief moment. The feel of her grip on his wrist had Isagi's body tingling and his mind racing. He was taken aback by her gesture, but his mind was only focused on one thing right now. She wanted to watch him? She'd be there... watching him? Isagi couldn't help, he grinned, his pulse was rising. Once she finished she moved away from him letting his wrist fall. Capping the pen she held she tapped the end on his nose smiling at him.

“Don’t disappoint me now pretty.” Isagi was startled by her words. For the first time in his life, he was called pretty. His cheeks went red and that one word alone caused his entire world to stop moving around him, he felt so warm.

“I don't plan on it. You'll see, I'll be impressive." He said, his tone was much more confident than he'd meant to sound. She rolled her eyes at him letting a huff leave her lips.

“I’ll definitely hold you to that Mr egoist.”

“Oh?" Smirking he was aware that she was teasing him.He chuckled as it was his turn. “You have no idea..I'm gonna do my damn best to go all out in the game and win." He was already confident. His ego was growing, but he didn't mind that. He had every right to be confident with the skills that he had. His cocky smile remained on his lips.

“I expect to see you there?" He watches as she swallows hard looking up at him. She felt her face heat up at the look of determination in his eyes.

“y-yeah definitely. I’ll keep my eyes on you the whole time….”

Now isagi could feel the adrenaline running through veins. This was all so new to him, the way she was acting so flirty, the way her eyes were on him and her cheeks were flushed just by his look.. The way she was talking right now was making his whole world spin again. Smiling he was enjoying the feel of all those butterflies. He let go of her hand finally and he looked away for a second.

“Okay, then. I guess I'll see you there." He finally said as he turned to leave. Clutching his jacket in hopes to stop his heard from beating so loudly in his ears. He was on cloud 9 and he couldn’t even process this moment being real.

“Yeah… bye yoichi. See you there.” Isagi waved at her, turning to exit. He felt her eyes still lingering on him as he went. His mind was filled with so many thoughts right now. He couldn't believe that he'd done that, he couldn't believe that it had happened... But, it did happen. He had got a date. He had a date with the prettiest girl he'd ever met. That didn't seem real, and he couldn't be happier about it. As he left the gym, Bachira was waiting for him with a smug look on his face.

“You got a date?" Bachira asked, watching him as he approached. Isagi's cheeks were glowing bright red, his grin was infectious. "Shut-up." Isagi snapped back, clearly feeling flustered still. His hands were trembling ever so slightly and he was aware that it was all over his facial expressiosn. He attempted to hide his emotions but to no avail, he was just too excited for his own good.

“Awwwww Come on, you can't lie! I can see it all over you, your face is bright red and your lips got this dumb grin on em. You're down bad when you're flustered, and the way she was looking at you? Yeah, you got a date." Bachira said excitedly as he watched his friend trying his best to hide his emotions.

“Shut. up." He said, a hint of frustration in his voice. Isagi didn't want to acknowledge that his friend was right, but he had a point. He was right. Isagi could still feel her hand on his wrist. He felt like he could still feel her breath on his skin. His cheeks were red, his hands were shaking. All because this damn date.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Something something Merlin is Arthur's bane.

[choccy-milky]

im finally playing HL again after only playing it once when it first came out, and thanks to mods (especially @silverxstardust's clothing mod) i finally made clora how i like her...LOOK AT HER.....my baby angel darling👼💖💖

seriously tho playing the game again after all this time (especially now that im playing as CLORA clora, and not just clora that was a random chara i made) is so different, but its also taking me back so much🥹😭💖

[akelafang]

Fic idea:

After Morgause's ritual that allows Arthur to talk to his mother, the veil between her and the living world has weakened. Ygraine's spirit is able to pass through and she starts haunting the shit out of Uther in revenge for what he did to her and his treatment of Arthur since then. She also uses some of her time to spend with Arthur cause he did not get enough time with her!

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[xarology]

Retreat - Megatron x Reader 18+ MDNI

Megatron fragging you near an autobot outpost late at night. The only thing holding you up is his wrapped arm around your pelvis and your grip on the tree in front of you. You try not to make a sound as he lazily slides against you.

He doesn’t care about getting caught, he knows he could fight his way out if he could. Slaughter every creature in that outpost if he really wanted to. But right now? he’s savoring you. Laughing at the way your breath hitches whenever you almost let out a moan. Amused at your attempts to be alert of your surroundings, caring much more than he does because you’re fragging the enemies leader.

He doesn’t care when he brings a servo up to rub on your clit. Your heavy breaths turn into whines as he quickens his pace, pounding into you with a steady beat. You turn you head slightly to the side to look at him and freeze when you see a light in the distance. It’s faint but you can see it move through the trees ever so slowly.

You push against his pace, trying to get off. He stops but doesn’t release his spike from inside you. You’re about to tell him to get off until you turn to see him. A predatory grin stretching across his face because he knows.

“Afraid, little one?” He purrs at you.

His hold around your pelvis tightens as he watches you squirm. He resumes rolling into you at a languid pace, enjoying the show as you panic beneath him—pleading at him between soft moans. At some point when the light gets closer, you stop moving against him as you let him take you, enjoying the thrill of almost getting caught.

He drapes his chassis across your back when you decide to enjoy yourself. Letting out loud moans as he quickens his pace against you. You don’t care. Your head is clouded, the light is getting closer and you don’t care. You want him to fill you up in these woods, to milk him of his spike and you don’t care.

You feel a warmth coil inside your stomach as he continues hammering into your cunt. You shut your eyes as he bites into your shoulder, spilling out onto him as you fist his spike. You let out a loudly inappropriate moan at your release, and you’re sure the person with the light heard.

You’re overstimulated as Megatron continues to pound into you, chasing his own release. It’s not long until he sloppily loses his pace and overloads inside you. It’s strangely peaceful as he brings his arms up to your waist and hugs you against him. His helm between your neck as you bask in the afterglow with him.

You slowly open your eyes in search for the light, resigning your fate to whatever happens if they catch you. It’s confusing when you don’t see anything. You hoped that whatever loud moan you made scared them off, it’s not like you would confront a loud couple on your patrol either. But you’re not complaining, you got away with it!

—

If there’s any errors I’m probably sorry. I don’t know how smut writers do this because my brain rotted after writing the first 3 paragraphs. Probs fix later (I never do)

[hvezdnastreka]

WIP i'm probably never going to finish, because IT'S ANOTHER KLAUZURA SEASON BABYYYYY!!!!

^^(a black and white walk cycle animation of a girl, who's legs aren't drawn yet ) GET CONCEPT ARTED LOSER (This time we're making concepts for our own video game! :) )

[balis77]

Shoutout to Magic for taking "Watson equivalent who was a former assassin of some kind" and ascending it to "Watson equivalent who is still an active assassin, not even on the side, like being a detective's assistant is their side job"

Proft: "He's covered his tracks well. He's definitely our culprit, but with all the physical evidence destroyed we'll never be able to prove it to the courts." Etrata: "...So like, does that mean I'm fine to... you know..." Proft: *sighs* "...Just please tell me you're being paid by someone else to do it." Etrata: "Oh they gave me the contract like halfway through the investigation. I was just waiting to see if we could get him in custody first."

[serpentface]

You meet your other sister-in-law very briefly.

She arrives unannounced in full Odonii garb and a long cloak for the cold, soaked through with rain. She's taller than most men, and carries herself like one too. Her hair spills out of her veil, not only unbraided but a horrendous mess. It's kind of fascinating. You catch a glimpse of a handgun slung across her back, hidden beneath her cloak. This is especially exciting; you’ve never seen one up close. You try to peek around her to get a better look at it, and flush in embarrassment when she catches you, shooting you a cold glare.

It doesn't seem like she speaks much without being spoken to, and you aren’t really the type to initiate conversations either. Livya fills in for the both of you, prompting your sister-in-law to introduce herself. Her name is Couya. You give her a respectful bow and curtsy, she gives a very slight bow back without looking you in the eye. She compliments your necklace. Or at least, she mumbles something while looking in the general direction of your necklace, and it might have been a compliment. You aren’t sure whether there’s something wrong with her or she’s just rude.

She's just her for filial duties at the family shrine, and she doesn't stay long. Livya stops her on her way out. She says she's disappointed that the one time in a year she can be bothered to come by, she shows up looking like a disheveled street-whore in priest's clothing. Look at Hibrides, she didn't even know we were having company and still did up her hair so nicely, and all by herself too. Thank God your father isn't here to see this, he's suffered enough embarrassment as it is-.

Couya stands in the doorway in silence through this whole speech. You thoroughly inspect a loose tile in the floor and try your best to pretend you aren't there. Livya doesn't take her hand off your shoulder the whole time.

---

[I've been writing an overview of Hibrides' first several years of marriage for the hell of it. It's just a summary but it's written with like, the slightest bit of prose, so figured I'd dump a section here]

[missingn000]

hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!

link

playlist

happy reading!

[forever-and-whats-left]

Why do people always write fics about Christine and Erik marrying, yet never have him take her last name. LET HIM HAVE A NAME YOU COWARDS! LET CHRISTINE HAVE A FAMILY AGAIN!

[pekoposting]

natsuki and fumiko for @the-only-teruteru-fan's contest!

(i love how with kuzupeko fankids the gene pool is often so evenly split, like no dominant or submissive genes, just 50/50. fuyuhiko and peko would be so happy)

edit: it is too late but. recessive genes.

[bread-is-my-life]

HAPPY NEW STAINMIGHT YEAR!!!

Santa Might and Stain the Elf except I wasn't able to do any art of em till Christmas and New Year so you all are getting those concepts :']

(if anyone wants me to yap abt them... Heh... Just lemme know and I will write a huge ass post 😼)

Bonus doodle from *looks at the date* OCTOBER??? damn...

[uhohdad]

cries i don't think my ask went thru i don't know how to tell when ur doing requests or whatever anyways. i love bullying soft!könig i imagine it's hard to break him down at first but he's got some weaknesses? right?. ?? i had this idea.

do you think he's into masochism. so used to pain on the battlefield and a lack of pleasure seeking back at the base its because its still work, what does he even have to do on breaks?? on leave?? is he used to the loneliness?? has he accepted it or does a piece of him still crave??? does he feel like he deserves it and it creates this twisted perversion upon himself to love how he hates the way he loves.

what if you met him at a hole-in-the-wall bar. they serve dinner and drinks and there's always someone on the stage singing a song. you go there to eat the delicious food and listen to the local artists and occasionally a drink, but you're alone most of the time.

then this mountain of a man comes in, hunched like he's trying to make himself shrink out of existence, tentatively walk up to the bar. he's obv not local. his eyes darting around nervously, orders something you can't understand, but you're feeling thirsty and the waiter hasn't come around for 30 minutes.

you saunter up to the bar and order yourself dessert and look at the stranger. he makes fleeting eye contact, maybe you smile. something draws you in. "You new to town?" you might say. he nods. you talk a little, order him a drink. maybe he's a lightweight, or you just made him feel less crazy, because now you're both back at your booth sharing the dessert you ordered, talking about how weird other people are and how it's nice to talk to someone down to earth. it's so strange and it's so nice and the night goes on, and somehow, still, you find yourself falling for This Stranger, and so at some point, one of you takes the other by the hand, you're scooting closer. some silly sense of connection makes you feel comfortable enough to let your hand sit on his thigh. he's got blue eyes. drinking you in. you start touching him under the table. rubbing his thigh thru his cargo pants, gripping your nails through and letting him lean in with bourbon-cholocate lingering in his breath and something else, something desperate. you're letting your hand slip down his pants (at some point the belt was off. and it wasn't by your doing) and palming at his swollen cock. you can feel it throb. blue eyes. you can feel his breath on your neck as he leans in, trying to hide all this under the premise of vulnerability, a hug, but you know it's more. he wants something.

you let your nails graze his balls and feel them tighten. he's hot to the touch but his fingers are cold as they hover above your hand. he guides you back up to hold his cock. keep going, he urges. he doesn't have to even say it.

you're raking your nails down his pelvis to then grasp and pull his cock. pumping it with a slick hand and thumbing the tip with your thumbnail. he's trembling. his breath pitches in your ear like a barely concealed whine. don't stop. don't stop even when it hurts. you jerk him off til he cums with a shuddering exhale and his knees hitting the underside of the table. you don't stop. you squeeze and pump him with his new slick, moving faster, there's sweat on his forehead and your shirt and he's barely keeping composure as you rake red lines down his shaft as he thrusts pathetically up into your hand, overstimulated and shaking at the realization he loves it, he loves this.

do you think he's into masochism.

you come onto my blog, sweet anon, you gift me the most delicious, scrumptious, beautiful concept and smut?? you upstage me on my own blog, sweet anon??

if i wasn’t into it before, i sure am now baby 😍😍😍

this is gold top to bottom but that second paragraph is ARTTTTTT

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

Don’t know if you’re still taking prompts but if you are you should totally write about ford eating out fem!stan for the first time plz🙏

hey anon! sorry i took a really long ass while to respond to this since i couldnt think of any specific scenarios to write this prompt of that wasn't just, you know, the prompt— but it finally hit me like a truck today! and also cuz i was sick and doing this in between homework djdndhdsn

anyway, VERY explicit under this read more, since i got SO carried away, hope you dont mind its the geezers pre-weirdmageddon in this one AND that you dont mind a little sex pollen also ty ty ty so much for your fem!stan request i love it when people enable me dhdndhdbdu also sorry to everyone who exoected a "read more" but tumblr hides my stuff when i do that so heres the warning, please scroll if thats not your thing

~~

"Constance, get down!"

"Wha—"

It was too late. Cloud of pink glitter exploded in her face and sent her into a coughing fit so hard her lungs shook in her ribcage. She drops to the floor and hears Ford's "Constance!"

Then she hears him fire his space gun. Just out of her periphery was chunks of blue goo that would be a fucking bitch to clean out of the walls and carpet, but la di da, there it was. There isn't a second to groan about that or the way her breathing turned heavy when Ford runs to her side, grabbing at her arm and forcing her to her back.

"Constance, are you okay?"

"Stanford..." Stan wheezes, turning her head into a hafl glare. "What... the HELL was that...?"

Ford's eyes narrow, inspecting her face, before his thumb brushes against her cheek. Stan shivers, a full body quake and confusion over taking her while Ford inspects his thumb. From down here, Stan can only stare because what else can she do when she's down, dizzy with virtigo from whatever magical poison that got sprayed across her face.

From down here, Stan feels the heat from Ford's grip, the pads of his fingers and the large mass of his palm against the bare skin of her arm, tickling the nerves underneath into sending sparks that go through her body and meet at the coil of her stomach. Even Ford's knee, under all that cloth and was much father from her face than Stan seems to think it is, illicited some deep, twisted something in Stan again she hasn't felt in a while.

"Ford?"

Ford's eyes snap back to her, blown and widened with alarm. Suddenly, he grabs her arm again, slips it over his shoulders, the other encircling her back. Stan thinks, alright, he's going to help me up, before a squawk rips from her throat when his arm loops under the back of her knees and lifts her to the air.

"What are you—?!"

"No time to explain, let's go," Ford says with all the urgency of a man on a mission. Carrying her out of their fairy-thing-guts covered living room with way too much ease, he sprints into the giftshop, ignoring Stan's confusion and dragging her into the basement.

It doesn't take a too long to find herself sitting on Ford's desk, trying to pump the breaks on the now doubled speed of her heart and the vibrations that run through out her body, working its ways to adjust to the surrounding. When Ford plopped her down and breathed the same air she did for less than a second, she felt it— ignition to an burnt out furnace suddenly bursting to new life. there was so much heat simmering through her veins, her nerves, every god damn thing was way too much to handle.

She's hot. Ford's desk and the glass plane behind her was cold, cold to a chill, and her thighs clench and rub together, onto the desk, aching for that rub of friction because she needed something hot, hot now, just as hot as her. Her mouth was dry, all the spit went on her tongue to her lips. Things— way too many things jumble in Stan's head, ranging from what the fuck is happening to holy shit, when did Sixer get that strong.

What stood out the most through was her brother saying he messed around with fucking nymphs, and all morning he's been hunted down by them. The one dead by their living room? A fucking nymph-assassin.

"Sixer, what the hell?" She pants, and oh God, she's panting? When the hell did that happen? Stan sucks in a breath again when Ford turns from rummaging through his stuff again to finally throw her a glance. Red hot heat crawls up her neck and she bites down on her lip when his eyes zero in on her squirming, her thighs. Stan might've thought she saw his jaw flex but, fuck if she wasn't also just going delirious.

"Why the hell were you messing around with those things in the first place?"

"I needed something from them, Constance," Ford answers measuredly, and Stan hears another racket from him looking for some goddamn thing through out his mess. "I've made an ammicable deal with them in the past, and now they're pushing for more. That's out of my control."

"I bet you backed out of that deal," Stan accuses, because it was pretty clear to them that Ford wasn't a god damn master of trickery or whatever. "What, you tried to swindle them for more of this fuck-powder? You know they sell viagra at the store?"

"That wasn't what I dealed with them for," Ford mutters lowly and, damn, if it were any other time, Stan would make fun of him. Stan would tease him, laugh at the embarrassed pout on his face, the bright red flush over his cheeks and ears. But she can't, not when Ford's back was what she's staring at, the broad, plane of his back and wide slopes of his shoulders, hidden under that stupid trenchcoat and sweater combo.

Where they could be ripped off and Stan could see all the things she never would have imagined her cute, nerdy but unappreciatedly handsome brother growing into if not for the one perk of getting shoved into a portal to whole universes of things trying to kill him. When she couldn't imagine him getting any hotter than he already—

They're back, those stupid god damn fantasies. They came at night, they came in the morning. They came whenever she and Ford would pass each other in the hall in their mutual agreement of no-talking, and his shadow almost engulfs her completely nowadays, and all she thinks is how stupid this whole avoiding each other thing is and they could be siblings as thick as thieves again.

Or even better— Ford could shove her into the wall and kiss her until she can't breathe. He could let her push that coat of his shoulders and sweater off his back so Stan's hands could crawl up them again. He could bite her neck, unbutton her blouse and pants, put one of those big palms to use and grope and squeeze around her tits, put those extra fingers to use and slip them into her pants, underwear, her, while Stan barely holds herself together biting at the firm skin on his shoulder.

Put that smartass mouth to use and say "Thank you, Stan" or "You're so good for me, Stan."

Get on his knees and put that mouth to even better use if he'd just shove down her pants, place his hands on her hips, nose against her bush and his mouth on her—

It takes a second too long to realize, but it happened. one hand slid between her legs, pushed the fabric of her boxers away to brush at her wet and even more senstive pussy. A second too long to stop that haggard mewl that came out of her lips.

A second too long to see that Ford finally turned back with a jar in way too tightly gripping hand, staring slack jawed at Stan behind his glasses.

Fucking great.

"Constance," Ford breathes shakily, and no, this can't happen. Their relationship can't get any worse, and sure Stan is gross for thinking about her brother that way, but she can't help that they're coming at the worst time, when she can't hide in her room far, far away from the basement and ride on her fingers to quiet cries of Ford's name.

"G-God, don't be so dramatic about it!" She says, sweat prickling at her neck. "You-you've seen me change and get naked before! This isn't that different!" Because there wasn't totally a difference between getting used to changing infront of your brother when you could barely live in one small space together when you were kids to touching yourself to them, right infront of them.

Right?

Man, she's such a sucker.

Shame is mixing with her already sizzling skin, and she needs to go. Take that jar-of-something to her room and figure it out on her own because obviously, Ford already wanted nothing to do with her and would want it even less now. Goddamn it, this would be so much easier if Ford didn't have eyes that were identical to hers, but wore it with that cutting stare that tore through her. Since they were teens and she was in denial about getting off to her twin brother who stared a little too hard— or even since forever.

Or at least if she wasn't still so hot and bothered thinking about him where she thinks she might've already came to his god damn desk.

Stan starts pushing herself off of it, face sweaty and pink. "F-Fine, I'll go. Just gimme that antedote and I'll—"

Ford closes the gap quicker than a lightning bolt, the jar already rolling on the floor and Stanford's mouth already crushed against hers, all hungry and desperate like he couldn't physically hold himself down anymore and their glasses knocking askew. He's nudging himself between her knees, his hands onto the fat on her hips, and shit, did he just moan? From just kissing her? Oh damn.

"Nevermind that. I think I have a better antedote," Ford says against her lips. "I'd like to test it out."

"Just fuck me already, Sixer, oh my God."

Stanford lights up, smiles like he won the damn lottery or fifty research grants or whatever. He dives right back in, kissing Stan, and sinking twelve nails into her hips as he drags them together. Stan groans, feeling the already hard tent go even harder against her, and her skin is on fire again, but this time melting the frigid parts of nerves into a liquid heat that's flowing directly down into her stomach, warming her up inside. Ford's hands move quick, from pushing the straps of her tank top down until she feels breeze touch her nipples to taking no sensitive measures to tugging and eventually ripping her boxers off her. Ford pulls away, and drags is mouth onto her neck then chest and Stan finally gets to put her hands on his shoulders, how big and strong he's gotten. One goes through his half greyed hair, and even when he was a teen she loved the dark, curly mop she'd pull into a noogie, but now it just makes him look better.

It makes her so mad, specially with what a grade A dick he's been. But she can't be that mad when Ford reaches her boob and takes a nipple into his mouth, nipping then sucking hard. "Shit—" Stan hisses, and there's nothing more to say than that.

"Fuck, Stan," Ford mutters against her skin, his breath tickling with the wetness on her nipple. "You drive me crazy."

"You're the one who fucked– ah– with Nymphs," She points out, and yeah maybe she could be a little jealous about that, but it dissapates when his fingers make their way into the warm, wetness of her pussy, just as special as Stan imagined it'd be. "Were– hh– they g-good lays, at least?"

"Not what I dealed with them for," Ford repeats, like that answers anything, and sinks loudly onto his chair, right between Stan's knees. His eyes drag down slowly on Stan, from her definitely fucked up hair, to half down tank top and tits hanging out, to right between her legs, and if Stan wasn't full on blushing then, well she sure was now. For a second it looks like he considers taking off his glasses, before deciding against it. Nerd.

Hooking the back of her knees over his shoulders, he smirks up at her again with that tear-her-apart stare again. "I doubt they'd ever taste this good."

Before Stan could respond to that, Ford's face goes between her thighs and his mouth is on her. If Stan thought she almost came earlier, then she's holding on for dear life when Ford's tongue laps at the outside before sinking deeper into her, sending shockwaves through out Stan. Moaning against her like he's the one getting head, like he's getting off from the taste of her on him alone. The flat of his tongue pushes against tight muscle, the heat almost pulsing, and making the wetness there grow more and more

Fuck, just Holy shit, how did he get this—

"Oh!" Stan gasps, one hand finding her own breast and the other on his desk, barely feeling the cold anymore with the clashing heat taking up her whole body, and all she can really feel is Ford's nose bumping against her bush when he only lets up for his teeth to graze against the nub of her clit while his fingers take over below. Stretching her out with his big, thick fingers, just so he could watch her like some pervy, old—

Then he sucks gently on it, and Stan is seeing white.

"Shit– Ford, I'm–"

"Just let it out, Stan," He says, still mostly against her. "You've been so good this whole time.

Thick thighs closing around Ford's head, that's what does her in. Of course it is. Her mind completely blanks out, turning to the white static on TV for a few moments until she realizes she's riding the rest of her orgasm on Ford's mouth at the end of it, while he laps it up like he'd die if he doesn't, like he's the cursed one.

Stan could barely register the murmurred whispers of her name and the movements of his arm from under the desk she's on until he's letting out a shuddering breath, forehead against her belly. Stan couldn't help the grin lighting up her face then.

Great, at least she's not the only one.

Just like that, the heat... doesn't really leave. Just wrapped around her cozily like the trenchcoat Ford threw over her when he finally stands up, only to drag Stan back on his lap. She's not getting used to that thirty years long honed strength anytime soon.

"Suppose I have a new more effective measures now," Ford says, lips finding Stan's, and she could taste herself on there, passed like a secret.

She's not getting used with this affection either, but Stan wants to see Ford try.

They stay a couple of moments there basking in this glow, until Stan peers up again, scratching the back of her neck when realization hits her.

"Hey, Sixer... you're the one cleaning that carpet upstairs, right?"

[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 𝚌𝚘��𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 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: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 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!!!)