#gosh I just typed that

[sharknark]

shSHUSH SHUTHEFUKUPF SHUT THE SH

[screwpinecaprice]

When your boyrfren is a morning person.

(Idk if Connie's not a morning person, but it'd be funny if she isn't.)

Connie doodles (and a Steven!)

[dawn-moths]

thinking about tomura being tenko’s older brother where they’re perhaps ten years apart. you and tomura first meet when you’re both eighteen, start hanging out as friends, but you’re only vaguely aware he has a sibling when sometimes he says he can’t hang out that particular weekend because he has to “babysit the brat”.

after a while, you’re able to convince him to show you a picture of his little brother. you’re curious if they look alike, and other than a few features like their eye and hair color, you can easily imagine how tomura looked at that age, too. him and tenko look startling similar to each other even with that many years between them.

“sorry…” tomura grumbles through the other side of your phone call one afternoon. “tenko’s soccer practice got canceled and now my mom’s making me watch him while she’s at work.”

he sounds annoyed, almost embarrassed by the fact that, even at eighteen, he has to obey his mother’s requests, but is ultimately contrite about his last minute change of plans having to effect you so often as well.

“it’s ok,” you assure him with your usual chipper tone, fully understanding the responsibility he has. “but, y’know…” you remind him, “if it’s ok, i could always come over and we could hang out while you’re watching your brother?”

you try and hide your eagerness the best you can. the truth is, you’ve been wanting to meet the mini-tomura for quite some time now. tomura always describes him as annoying, as a needy little brat that whines until he gets his way, but the words are never spit with scorn and there’s something soft in his eyes that always gives away the fact that he actually does care.

tomura usually just brushes off your offer, promises to reschedule with you, so you’re prepared to be let down, but that time, after a short pause of contemplation, tomura clears his throat and says, “i mean, yeah, ok. that’s fine i guess, if you want…”

“ok!” you beam, already grabbing your keys. “i’ll be over soon then!” you hang up, grab your bag, and jump in your car.

any time you’ve been over to tomura’s house (which has been few and far between, since your place tends to be the designated hangout given you usually have the house to yourself most of the time) tenko hasn’t been there. he’s been at his aforementioned soccer practice or a friend’s house or some other activity that’s kept you from meeting him.

you’re so curious it’s overwhelming, and as you pull up to tomura’s house he’s already perched on the front step, gazing at his phone until he hears your car approaching. you park by the curb and scamper up to greet him, giving him a hug as per usual, and though he’d sounded sort of defeated on the phone earlier, seeing your smiling face now makes him feel a little lighter.

“hey,” you grin, momentarily holding both his hands in your own down between your close bodies. sometimes you're reminded how adverse to any kind of physical touch tomura used to be when the two of you had first met. even something as simple as a light, playful nudge would make him flinch, cause him to keep a bit more of a distance for the rest of the day.

but over time, you're not sure exactly why but, something changed.

and it was actually him who came to comfort you that time. you'd been upset, had planned on staying in your room alone until the ache decided to pass. but then you and tomura had started texting. he'd sensed something was wrong so he'd called. he'd heard the heartbreak in your voice, told you he was on his way, and not ten minutes later he was sitting beside you on your bed with his arm around you as you'd talked to him about what had happened while you'd cried.

ever since then, he'd gotten more comfortable with your casual, familiar touches, though he still found it easier to touch you than to be touched by you.

“hey,” he returns, then adds with that hint of that sarcastic humor you’ve come to love so much, “you ready to meet the little demon?”

you laugh, unable to not be amused by his melodrama. “oh, c’mon,” you say, lightly batting at his arm. “he’s only eight, he can’t be that bad!”

all tomura offers in response is a muttered, “yeah, well…” before inviting you inside.

as soon as you walk through the door, a little dog comes bounding towards you, running in energetic circles and barking as his tail wags with both curiosity and excitement. you proceed with caution around the corgi, wanting to reach down to pet him but hesitating around the unfamiliar animal.

the few times you'd been over before, tomura had let his dog out into the yard so he wouldn't end up jumping all over you, so this is the first time you're meeting him up close instead of catching glances of him through a window.

"ugh, sorry..." tomura mutters as he reaches down and scoops his dog up, the canine's tail continuing to wag even more once he's secure in tomura's arms. "i forgot to let him out back..." he then seems to realize something, his eyes widening a bit as he does a double take back at you and asks with a little more guilt in his tone, "you're not afraid of dogs, are you...?"

you wave off his concern with a swish of your hand and a crooked smile. you tell him you're not, you were just a little surprised is all.

"it's mon-chan, right?" you ask, slowly reaching your hand out for the dog to sniff.

"yeah. mon-chan," tomura confirms, readjusting his grip on the wriggling animal. "he's super friendly. just, well..." he gives a half shrug as a small grin cracks at one corner of his mouth. "he can be a lot."

"hey, mon-chan..." you coo, your tone turned sugary sweet, and the dog gives the back of your hand a few friendly licks. "awwww, you're cute, aren't you? what a good boy..."

but before you can dote over the dog too much, something catches your attention from the corner of your eye, causing you to shift your view towards the living room that sits off to the side of the main entrance.

and, lo and behold, there he is.

little tenko and his sweet little face that reminds you so much of the older brother you’ve become so fond of.

“hiiiii,” you greet the little boy with a soft voice and a smile. you know kids can often be wary when meeting new people, so when tenko just stares at you with those big, dark eyes you’re not surprised.

“hey,” tomura grumbles to his sibling. “don’t be rude. say hello.”

tenko then seems to snap out of his cautious trance, looking at his brother then back to you before saying, “is this the girl you’re always talking about, nii-san?”

tomura feels his cheeks heat and his ears burn as he sputters out something that sounds like half an excuse, half a scolding before telling tenko to go watch tv and behave. tenko obeys without any trouble and as you pass by through the living room you can see a popular superhero movie playing on the screen.

you travel down the short hall to where tomura’s bedroom lays at the very end, and once the door is shut he seems to become a little less tense.

“i’ll need to make him lunch in about an hour,” he tells you. “but until then…” he flashes you a suggestive smirk and you know exactly what’s coming.

it's one of your favorite things about hanging out together, the way it relieves the tension, lets you two unleash parts of yourself that you rarely let other people see. and tomura's been surprisingly good at it from the start. you wouldn't have guessed at a glance how skilled those hands could be, how coordinated given his usually lax, nonchalant nature...

he tosses you a game controller and you catch it with ease. “wha’dya say we pick up where we left off?” he asks, a hint of darkness to his voice that you now recognize as cold, hard competition.

you feel a look of confidence spreading across your face at the challenge and you reply in a tone befitting of a worthy opponent, “you’re on.”

the next hour passes quickly as you play your guys' favorite co-op game together, leaving you just two points from tying with tomura, and amidst your laughter and playful taunting, there’s a slight squeak as the door creaks on its hinges, little tenko peeking through the thin crack and observing, letting out a quiet gasp when he realizes he's been spotted.

“i’ll be out in a sec,” tomura tells his brother, already knowing what that expectant look means. tenko seems to linger, casting you another glance, and you convince tomura to pause the game.

“c’mon,” you murmur, giving him that guilt-tripping stare that he hates you for being so good at. “let’s go make him lunch and then we can finish this after.”

and it’s that suggestion of we, that suggestion of together, that has him pausing the game and setting his controller aside, standing from his bed to open the door to his little brother and following him down the hall to the kitchen, you close behind.

tomura takes out a tupperware from the fridge and has just popped it in the microwave when his phone buzzes from his pocket. "it's my mom," he states. "gimme one sec." he steps out of the kitchen and begins to wander towards the living room, his voice growing more distant as you hear him pick up the call. you hope everything is ok. but, for now, it's just you and tenko standing in the kitchen, the eight-year-old gazing up at you with that big, curious stare while the microwave counts down the seconds behind him.

"can i have lemonade?" he asks once you meet his eyes and give him a friendly grin.

the microwave beeps and you go to take his lunch out of it. "sure," you answer. but then, a little bit more suspiciously, you ask, "does tomura usually let you have lemonade?"

tenko nods, not giving anything away as you finish plating the other items of his lunch while tomura remains on the phone in the living room. from where you stand, if you glance just slightly around the entryway, you can see him sitting on the couch, leaning forward a bit while he continues to speak with his voice low. you just hope his mom won't be mad that he invited you over while she wasn't home.

it's not like you hadn't been over before when his house was empty, but given this is the first time you've met his little brother, you just hope you're not overstepping somehow. not to mention that, unbeknownst to you, tomura's mom had begun badgering him about meeting you before the end of summer. as soon as she'd caught onto the fact that her eldest son had been hanging out regularly with a girl, she couldn't help but become curious as to what kind of girl she might be.

a bit distracted by your thoughts, you just nod and say to tenko, "ok, sure, you can have some lemonade then."

once his chicken tenders and apple slices and animal crackers are promptly arranged on his plate and a glass of lemonade is poured, you carry tenko's lunch to the table and take a seat across from him while you wait for tomura to conclude his conversation, trying to keep your growing anxiety at bay at any possible problems that may be arising due to that phone call.

you try to listen in, though mostly hear the standard, vague, "yeah. uh-huh. alright," responses from tomura until—

"are you my brother's girlfriend?"

you blink at tenko, taken aback as you sputter over a response to that, wondering for a moment if you merely imagined it. then, once your nervous giggling and bashfulness begins to dissipate, you clear your throat and say, "did tomura tell you that?"

tenko takes another bite from one of his apple slices and says, "no. but he talks about you all the time. he says you're his friend, but i hear him talking to his friends at night when he thinks no one is listening."

you stare at tenko with an intensity you don't realize you're wearing on your face at first, the suspense eating you alive. eventually, when tenko doesn't seem like he's going to offer more, you lower your voice to something closer to a whisper, your gaze darting back to where you can barely see tomura sitting in the other room, still on the phone, and ask tenko, "what do you hear him say?"

tenko, his big eyes moving up and to the right, contemplates that for a moment as he finishes chewing and swallowing his next bite, then tells you, "i don't know exactly. i can't hear what his other friends are saying, but one time i heard nii-san say that you were special." you feel your cheeks heat and again glance over at the back of the boy you've become so fond of so quickly. "he said something about not wanting to ruin anything," tenko continues, reciting the words as if he doesn't quite grasp their meaning. but then, tenko's mouth splits into a mischievous little grin that reminds you so much of tomura, it's honestly a little scary. he says, seeming to find amusement in his next words, "one time, i heard him say you were like his guardian angel or something..."

a childish little giggle bubbles up from tenko's lips, almost as if he finds a cruel kind of pleasure in knowing his older brother's biggest secret, but this information just makes your heart all the more warmer towards tomura.

you'd spent the last couple of months suffering inside your own head about it all— about whether you really meant something to tomura, about if he cared for you as much as you did for him or if you were simply just convenient and would be discarded come any significant distance put between the two of you—

suddenly tenko seems to retract, perhaps sensing your discomfort, so you take the opportunity to clear the nerves and giddiness from your throat and change the subject.

"so, tenko," you begin, trying to straighten out your crooked smile. "tomura tells me you play soccer. do you like it?"

tenko gives a shrug at first, taking another bite of an apple slice that's had the skin peeled and cut to resemble rabbit ears. then he says, "i guess so. but i like watching movies more."

you ask him what kinds of movies he likes, recalling the superhero blockbuster that had been playing on the tv when you'd first arrived, and feel a spark of endearment as tenko's face lights up as he delves into telling you all about his favorite characters and their cool powers.

"wow! you sure know a lot!" you commend him with a beaming smile, and at the compliment tenko's face begins to turn a little red. "do you and tomura ever watch movies together?"

"not really..." the younger sibling sulks, pouting as he peels the remainder of the skin from his apple slice. "nii-san is usually playing video games in his room and my mom says i'm not allowed to play them because they're too violent..." then, before you can tell him that's too bad but one day he'll be old enough to play the same games as his brother, tenko perks back up and tells you, "but sometimes... sometimes nii-san lets me into his room on nights our mom works late and we play mario kart together."

you have to force yourself to stifle a laugh at that. i mean, it's just completely adorable, isn't it? the thought of tomura, who tries so hard to play it off like he couldn't care less about his little brother, like he's nothing more than a nuisance to him, a pest, an inconvenience, does actually take the time to bond with him anyway. at least, when no one's looking.

you tell tenko you also like mario kart, then lean in and add in a playful whisper, "but i bet he doesn't tell you about all the times i've beaten him, does he?"

tenko regards you with blatant skepticism. "no way," he says, as if he's never been more sure about anything in his life. "there's no way you can beat nii-san. he's too good! no one can beat him!"

now you laugh openly, causing tomura to glance over his shoulder just to make sure there isn't too much chaos ensuing in his brief absence, but tenko just looks confused.

"well," you reply, amusement trailing off the end of your words, "he is pretty good. i'll give him that. but unbeatable..." you quirk up one brow and wear a slight smirk for a moment before allowing your features to fall back to normal. then you tell tenko, "just give it time. one day i bet you'll be able to beat him. i believe in you!"

"you behavin' in here?" tomura suddenly appears in the entryway, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he casts his little brother a warning look.

"your girlfriend says she beat you in mario kart, is that true?" tenko blurts out, and you have to force yourself not to tease tomura when his cheeks visibly darken at the mention of you being his girlfriend.

"everything ok?" you ask to defuse the situation a little and put tomura back at ease, but then his look of bashfulness morphs into a look of slight surprise at the sight you and his little brother getting along so well.

quickly, he snaps out of it, and replies, "yeah. she was just checking in," before seeming to notice something awry about the picture here, specifically on tenko's side of the table.

"hey," tomura lightly scolds his brother. "you know mom only lets you have lemonade on the weekends." you immediately begin to apologize, saying that when he asked you thought it would be ok, and feel embarrassed that you let yourself be manipulated by a child, but tomura assures you it's fine before returning to interrogate his little brother who, admittedly, looks very guilty now.

"did you lie to her?" he presses, and for a moment you're afraid he'll make tenko cry. tenko denies it at first and you observe with growing anxiety as the argument between them ramps up a bit.

it isn't until you reach over to place a hand over tomura's, which has been firmly planted on the tabletop as he leans in over his brother, that he seems to simmer down a little.

"one time will be ok, won't it?" you ask him, not wanting to ruin the moment you'd just shared with tenko, feeling like you'd gained a little more of his trust. you use your secret weapon, the one thing tomura can never say no to whenever he sees it— that sweet, pleading stare you give as you gaze up at him, the look that makes his stomach flutter and his head haze over with thoughts he'll be revisiting later once he's alone.

"fine," he concedes, some of the rigidity that had captured his limbs leaving him as he steps away from the table. he looks directly at his brother and concludes with a warning, "but just this once."

you're relieved, and tenko appears to have returned to his prior state of unfazed contentment, but tomura still seems impatient about something.

"c'mon," he says, beckoning you up from the table to follow him back to his room. "we still have a game to finish."

you give tenko a parting smile before humming out an amused, lilting little note, trailing after tomura as you chirp out a mischievous remark of, "are you gonna actually help us win this time? or am I gonna have to carry the entire round again?"

he lets out an incredulous, albeit amused, chuckle, surprising you by throwing his arm around your shoulders and tugging you in closer to his side so you almost stumble down the hallway. "oh, just you wait..." brazen, he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and dark, now allowing the butterflies in your tummy to unfurl their delicate wings and take flight, "by the time we're done with this round, the other team isn't even gonna know what hit 'em..."

and, with that, you once again return to the confined space of his only slightly disheveled bedroom, the tv screen still bearing the scores from your last game. although, admittedly, as you continue to sit side by side, knees nudging one another here and there when things start to get a little too desperate or rowdy, you can't help but find yourself a little more distracted and self-conscious than usual.

because you swear you catch tomura glancing at you in between rounds from the corner of your eye, something softer, something warmer than you're quite used to possessing his crimson gaze.

it's a side to him you've rarely gotten to see, but you hope he'll learn to wear it a little more openly around you as time goes on.

besides, when his little brother had asked if you were his girlfriend, he hadn't quite said no, now had he?

[i-like-forcefem]

I don’t look in the mirror often

I don’t know can’t really describe what stares back

Everyone says that it is me

But… it doesn’t feel like it

I don’t look in the mirror often

I walk away from my washboard when brushing my teeth

I shave with my eyes closed

I always try to forget what… it looks like

I don’t look in the mirrors often

It’s not that I hate it when people looks it me

I just feel exposed when im not wearing a shirt

It’s not that I hate considering that people perceive me

It’s just that I don’t see any purpose in male fashion

It’s not that I hate how I look

It’s… that something feels wrong in me

I decided to look in the mirror today

I put on lipstick

I put on a skirt

I did not like what I saw

Still I couldn’t help staring

Still I couldn’t help smiling

When I look in the mirror I do not see a girl

I do not see me

But

The closer it gets to being me, the happier I get

So, I should keep going

Estrogen can’t hurt

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Folks, I come with important news from a dndads patreon monthly discord chat.

Anthony thinks Terry would crochet.

This has been a public service announcement, thank you.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝…? ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟷𝟷: 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙴˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 (𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 💗)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷,𝟽𝟿𝟻

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢….𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚎 *𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚒����𝚔 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎*

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚊.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚂𝙾 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙻𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙼𝙶‼️‼️‼️˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Dreams were one thing. 

Mikey loved dreams. 

He adored dreams in fact. 

It was…his escape from reality; sort of like drawing in a sense. Except, when he dreamt…he didn’t have to do a single thing.

He could do anything he wanted…whenever he wanted without having to get the 'a-okay' from anyone.

And plus, the best part about dreams was that if there was an ice cream cat barfing up sprinkles…Mikey wouldn’t question it oneeeeee bit. 

That was the magical part about dreams. 

But…there were always two sides to a coin.

…Nightmares…were the opposite of dreams…

…And they were a whole other thing.

They could turn your most happiest memories and moments into horrid and scary ones.

It could turn the most greenest of valleys into nothing but dry ash, blowing away in the wind and fluttering and intoxicating the air. 

Or…perhaps…maybe nightmares were just…lonely. 

Perhaps…it was just lonely to be alone, watching you sit in your room as you break into cold sweat, the darkness weighing you down like a ton of bricks. 

And maybe the nightmares wanted you to be there with it…so it wouldn’t have to be alone…

'I could be lonely with you' as Beach Bunny would say…

But back to the initial topic, Michelangelo always hated having nightmares.

But what he hated more was not even remembering what said nightmares was about. 

It was terrifying for sure— I mean— he woke up from it so it must’ve been really…bad…right?

The box turtle sighed loudly, running a tired and shaky hand down his face.

…He should probably get some water while he’s awake; his mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert.

Or, better yet, Mikey could go find his brothers.

Well…one of them. Or at least see if anyone was awake.

The light scarlet eyed mutant hopped down from his bed, hugging himself with one of his blankets as he made his way towards the hallway, the darkness almost consuming him in the process. 

Even as a little kid, the box turtle was never fond of the dark. 

…You could never see beyond it. 

It was cold and…just, well, dark in general if that makes sense. 

Michelangelo never understood the appeal some people had to it.

The only time he did welcome darkness, though, was when there was light occumpining it. 

Like the moon. 

Or the stars. 

Or even car lights! 

It was Mikey’s small reminder that no matter where he was, there was always some glow or gleam with him…

So relitavley speaking, he should head to where the nearest light was…which was his immiediate older brother’s room. 

The smallest turtle opened Leo’s car door ever so slightly, peeking inside to see a very sound sleeping slider. 

The youngest buried down his disappointment as he quietly closed the door, going back into the darkness once more.

Leo barely got any sleep as is…

…And besides…the chance of accidentally waking him up was waaaay too high. 

It was fine, anyway. Mikey could try going to Raph’s! 

Michelangelo dragged his orange blanket with him, putting it around his shoulders as he tip-toed to Raphael’s room…surely he was awake, right? 

“Raph…?” The youngest called out quietly, looking into his older brother’s room. The smallest mutant wasn’t greeted with a small grunt of acknowlgemnt nor a kind Raph greeting.

What the light scarlet eyed teen was greeted with, though, was a loud, ear pierecing snore from the snapping turtle. 

Mikey snickered softly at his brother’s loud noises, going into the room and giving him his favorite Squishmello that was on the floor.

The alligator snapping turtle smiled in his sleep, squishing the plushie to his chest and his tail wagged slightly. The smaller turtle giggled at the action, walking out and closing the car door.

Alright…so the odd’s on Donnie being up…were…rather…slim but it was fine! 

Quite very much fine.

If the softshell was asleep, the light scarlet eyed mutant would just hed back to his room…alone; in complete darkness. 

…But it would be fine…!

Probably.

The box turtle quickly and quietly shimmied to his purple loving brother’s room buuut not before tripping over his own feet and stumbling in front of Donnie’s train car door.

And Mikey was supposed to be a ninja…pfft, yeah right. 

The youngest turtle got up on his feet, brushing off his knees and shoulders as he grabbed his blanket from the floor. 

Maybe if he just stood perfectly still until the crack of dawn…Donnie wouldn’t wake up…!

Besides, it’s not like the softshell heard him or anything.

“I can hear you trying to be quiet over there, Mikes.” The second oldest deadpanned, turning around of his bed so him and his little brother shared eye contact.

Well shit…

The youngest’s stomach twisted and turned with guilt, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned on the doorway nervously, “Oh! H-Hey, Dee…sorry…did I wake you up…?” Michelangelo asked guiltily. 

“Eh, kinda. But it’s alright.” Donatello yawned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up on his bed, reaching for his desk as he put on his glasses. 

“…Are you going to come into my very humble abode or are you just going to continue to stand there?” The taller turtle asked, squinting into the darkness where the youngest was almost being consumed by.

Mikey shook his head ever so slightly, closing the door and hopping into Donnie’s bed with his blanket. The elder hugged the smaller turtle tight, rubbing his shell gently as Michelangelo melted into the embrace. 

The box turtle buried his face in his older brother’s chest as the other rested his chin at the top of the smallest turtle’s head, “Mhmmmm…your warm as fuck…”

Donnie bit back a loud laugh, instead, smiling faintly as he rolled his eyes fondly. 

Typical Mikey…

The second oldest wrapped his younger brother tighter in the hug, “Your literally using me as a blanket right now. I’m not your own personal heater, y'know.” 

“Ehhhh…you kinda are to be honest.” The other snickered. 

“Oh? You're just using me for my body heat, huh? And here I thought you loved me for me…” Donatello sniffled theatrically, wiping away a fake tear for dramatic effect.

“I do! But I also love you for your body heat.” The younger turtle giggled snarkily. 

Donnie scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he smiled; he couldn’t help but chuckle faintly.

"You're such a dunderhead, y'know that?” The older said as he scribbled at the youngest’s sides, grinning as Mikey almost immediatley squealed with laughter. 

“Here I am, pouring my heart out to you, being all sentimental and caring...and all you care about is my toasty body heat.” Donatello fake seethed, scribbling where the younger’s plastron met his shell. 

Michelangelo screeched loudly at his brothers squiggly and wriggly fingers, hugging his middles before turning around so his shell faced the young scientist. 

The light scarlet eyed turtle squealed, kicking his legs from under the bed sheets as his brother continued to tickle him, “N-NohoHAH! D-Deehee cahahome ohon dohon’t doohoo thihihis!” He squeaked, pulling on Donatello’s arms. 

“And where do you think you’re going, little brother?” The taller turtle asked, wrapping one arm around Mikey’s chest so his arms were at his sides. “You’re not going anywhere~!” Donnie grinned before scribbling his free hand all long the younger’s stomach. 

“OHO FAHAAAHACK! DEEHEE NOHO STAHAP!! THAHAT’S SOHO SOHO BAHAHAD!!!” Michelangelo screeched whilst laughing loudly and hysterically, kicking his legs so much that the blankets soared high in the air and fell on the floor. 

'And she was a fairy' ahh moment…

“I’m going to tickle you foreveeeeer! Eeheevihil lahahaugh!” The purple hoodie wearing mutant announced as he nibbled the crook of his baby brother’s neck.

Donnie laughed along with the other, his mind flashing back to times when they were very little…

…When they would lay together in the dark with fairy lights hung around the ceiling, infodumping about shows and movies as he would hold his younger brother close to him to keep him warm…

…It was just like when they were little kids.

Well, almost like when they were little kids. 

In their early childhood years there was definetly less hyena cackling…that was for sure.

“GAHAHAD DAHA— squeal NOOOHOHOHO!” The younger mutant squealed, shaking his head as a faint blush spread to his cheeks.

“Yeeeeeeees~!” Donatello playfully cooed, “And stop your loud Tom-foolery! You’re going to wake up the entire lair!”

“THEHEN STAH— squeal!! GOHOD— squeak SCREHEHEW YAHA— YOHOU! STOHOHAP TIHICKLING squeak MEEHEEHEE!” Mikey yelled through his laughs. 

“But you looooove it~!” The other smugly countered. 

“DEEEEEHEEHEE! PLAHAHEASE! YOHOUR GOHOHONNA KILL MEEHEE!!”

“Kill yohou?” The elder mutant asked in awe, pausing the tickling for a split second before mercilessly prodding where the other’s ribs would be.

The reaction was almost immediate as Michelangelo let out a loud, genuine scream before descending into hysterical fits of laughter. 

Mikey thrashed and squealed helplessly, throwing his head back on his older brother’s shoulder. “DOHOHAHA— squeak DOHOHAHANNIE!!”

“You are conversing with Donatello; yes?” 

“PLAHAHAHEASE!”

“Please what~? Pleeeeease keep tickling you~? Pleeeeease tickle tickle your oh-so ticklish ribs~?” 

“N-NAHAH! THAHAT IHIS NOHOT WHAHA— squeal IHI DIDN’T MEEEHEAN THAHAAAT!”

The softshell chuckled lowly, holding his baby brother’s wrists above his head as he lightly nibbled his ribs. 

The box turtle squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back once more as he could do nothing but happily laugh. 

“D'awww~! Are Mikey’s wittle wibs tickwish~?” Donnie teased, using his free hand to flutter along the orange cladded turtle’s neck.

“AAAAAHAHAHAH— SQUEAK!! NONONOHOHO! DEEHEE DEEHEE NOHO— SQUEAK SQUEAK— NAHAHA— SQUEAL— NOHO MOHOHORE!!!”

“No more~? Are you sure~?”

“YEHAHAHAH! YEHEHES YEHE— SQUEAL YEHEHES!!” 

Donnie gave his brother one last poke at the rib before stopping and hugging him from behind, resuming the gentle shell rubs. “I guess I really am nothing more than your own personal heater, hm? Just a walking furnace at your command…”

The box turtle mutant groaned loudly, flicking the taller turtle’s forehead slightly, “Deeeehee yohou knohow damn wehell thahahat’s nohot true.” Mikey pouted, snuggling in the embarce. 

"Yeah, yeah…I know, I know. You supposedly love me for more than just my body heat.”Donatello said as he let out a huff of laughter and rolled his eyes. 

The elder wrapped his arms tighter around his brother, resting his chin on the orange cladded teen’s head once more. 

The smaller turtle giggled at the action before yawning, snuggling into the other’s plastron, “Lohove yohou, dorkwad…”

“Pfft— dorkwad? Is that the best you can do? Really?” The softshell snickered. 

“Is ahass faced Atomic Lahass fuhucker good enohough fohor you?” The box turtle asked snarkily. 

“I’ll stick with dorkwad, thanks.” The older giggled. 

“That’s whahat I thohought.” Mikey grinned as he yawned, resting on his face on his brother’s chest, “Lohove you, Dee.”

“I love you too, Angelo.” 

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

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

[hurricanek8art]

Nightmares and Memories: a Legacy of the Sith one-shot

In which I am apparently posting fic now? I DON'T KNOW. I've had this drabble written since the rumors about a certain someone's return started a few months ago as a "just in case" and now it's really relevant and I'm hopped up on Celebration excitement and frustration over not being able to solve that art problem. SO FIC. I GUESS. *INTERNAL SCREAMING*

Agent Chrysali Vidoi is used to nightmares, what with all the ghosts from her past and skeletons in her closet—but some are worse than others, and this one might be the worst of them all, because he's the only one left that she's genuinely afraid of. Set somewhere around the beginning of 7.5's story. Spoilers for that and some of 7.6 obviously abound. Sticking most of it under a read more because of that, and also because I'm slightly terrified and it's less of a jumpscare when I open the SWTOR tag. ��

...I need some kind of divider graphic for summaries for if when i post more writing instead of just a line of these (~~~) thingies i forgot what they're called...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This wasn't right.

She was on the deck of his flagship. The Eradicators were outside the viewport. This wasn't right. This was all space flotsam.

This wasn't right.

This.

Wasn't.

Right.

"Hello, Agent."

Chills went down her spine. The air flew out of her lungs. She turned, trying to draw her blades, her blasters, something, but it was too late. In a heartbeat, she was in the air though nothing was touching her, pinned to the bulkhead like an insect. She couldn't struggle. She couldn't even move.

"It's been a long time," he said, unreadable behind the featureless mask. His hands were folded behind his back, she could feel his eyes upon her. Sweat rolled down her face. Tears poured from her eyes. Don't, please don't, don't look at me, don't—

"You have changed in our years apart. Grown stronger, I think. You have something to lose now, something to fight for. It's emboldened you. Made you even more dangerous."

No, please, no, no—

"Oh, do not concern yourself with that. I do not come seeking revenge," he said coolly, taking a few steps forward. The pressure in her lungs, the fear in her mind, increased with every micrometer. "At least, not yet. Not now. I wanted to see how you've changed before I make my move."

Her heart pounded in her chest, in her throat, in her ears, but still she was trapped, and he grew ever closer, faces centimeters apart now.

"I have waited all this time. Planned. Strategized. Looking for the perfect moment to finally strike. I believe that time grows close now. So close I can almost taste it. I am coming, Agent. I shall return."

Her voice struggled to leave her throat. "Why... tell... me?"

"I chose you all that time ago, did I not? You and I are alike. Made unique from our peers. Alone in the galaxy because of it." His mask was almost touching her face, it was so close. She couldn't breathe. "You defied my offer before. But I am generous. I will extend the offer to stand by my side once more, and once more only. I trust you to make the correct decision, when the time comes. Goodbye, Agent. Until we meet again..."

Chrysali's entire body shuddered and jerked as she awoke, gasping for air. Strands of hair stuck to her face with sweat, loose pajamas clinging to her skin, and her heart hammered and thudded against her ribs. Chills went up and down her bare arms, the soft red light of the cybernetic nodes studded along her arms and shoulders steadily blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dark in the bedroom, and awareness of where she actually was began to sink in. She was safe, she was home, he wasn't here—

"Chrys?" Theron mumbled sleepily. He must've been woken up when she sat up so suddenly and shifted his arm around her. "Everything okay?"

She fought to steady her breathing, still searching the room. "I—the flagship, the Eradicators—Jadus, he was there, he spoke to me—"

He groggily sat up with her, awake but not quite alert. "What do you mean?"

"He was—was talking about returning. He wants me to serve him again. I can't—I won't—I—"

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Theron said quietly. He put an arm around her, rubbing her arm soothingly. "Sounds like another bad nightmare. You've had these before."

"This one was so real," Chrysali breathed, panting slightly.

"But it's gone now," Theron soothed. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep, we've got a busy day tomorrow." He glanced at the chrono on the opposite wall and groaned softly as he laid back down. "Today. We have a busy day today. In about five hours."

Right. They were still tracking Shae, however poorly that was going. And Chrysali was still putting feelers out with her old network to dig up more dirt on Heta Kol, see if they could tackle that part of the problem from a different direction. Lots to do.

"The human cost is acceptable. The only alternative is to let Jadus escape—and do worse down the line."

"The human cost isn't acceptable to me!"

She shuddered at the old memories, trying to push them away. It was so long ago now. And Lana had tracked Jadus briefly during the Zildrog incident, he was somewhere in the Unknown Regions, minding his business on his own little planetoid. He wasn't an active threat. They were okay. They were safe. She was safe. Theron was safe.

Chrysali settled back in, head in its usual spot on Theron's chest so she could listen to his heart, hand rested against his ribs and over the scar tissue from Nathema. Theron was already back asleep, arm instinctively back around her and settled just right so he could feel her breathing.

They were safe.

It was just a nightmare.

It had to be.

Slowly, uneasily, Chrysali drifted off back to sleep

[karahkat]

why do my placeholder names or titles always become permanent??

like I know it kinda sucks, but I like it now. I'm used to it. this is now what it's called.

[pluvio-floret]

Did you make the tragedy au? If so, what is it about? I think I have somewhat of a grasp on it but I would really like to read more about it and to hear your ideas and thoughts! :D

(p.s - love your art! <3)

It’s by me & @feelo-fick :))) It’s about Chilchuck finally going on vacation :>

Well..

I kid. Sort of.

It’s an au in which instead of the Winged Lion taking Marcille, it ends up settling for a panicking Chilchuck instead, to its disappointment. Basically, a Dungeon Lord Chilchuck au!

He’s separated from the party who are trying to find him, & as the dungeon changes, so does he. Despite his initial skepticism & caution, he starts to indulge in some of his addictions & dreams, such as one of a safer world, one of good cheer & little care. One in which he can relax, but also control if need be… (Is he in control?)

The others manage to catch up with the two, the golden of which plays a trick, winning Chilchuck for longer. When the party finally realize what’s happened & go back after him, several events (which I’m trying to be vague about for now) ensue…

(With lots of mythological ties, of course. Have you read the title of my blog? Have you seen the Orpheus & Eurydice things? And then there’s Dionysius. Not to mention the Minotaur…)

…All the while the hourglass winds down, things becoming progressively harder & harder to tell if they’re real or fake (the alcohol surely not helping). People aren’t just themselves anymore- Monsters are people & the reverse is true too. Whom do you trust when a face is shared? Whom do you trust when you become worse?

-

Sorry for how vague this got; I’m not sure how much to share just yet. We like keeping things ‘oooooOoo so mysterious’ for funsies but also want people to Know The Stuff, which gets complicated lol. There is a lot that we have for this au though, & those “events” I mentioned we’re very normal about, so things relating to & about that pop up in our posts about it all the time. So… There’s that, have fun.

(Also thank you so much!! :)))))))) )

-

OH ALSO it’s chilaios this is an au with chilaios I forgot to say!! It plays. Their relationship plays. A rather nice chunk of it. It’s not what it’s abboutttt exactly but yeah plays a big part those two’s uhh.. Interactions. And it stabs my heart :) I love them. May they bleed terribly. So very terribly <3

[i-like-forcefem]

I see you, writing fantasies that you'd clearly love someone else to put you through. I don't think there's anything cuter than a serviceable little sub (or, sureeee, switch, whatever) who's adopted themselves into the mind of their own manipulator to help other people and themselves blush, smile, get off. Those little not-so-hidden cracks in the dominating-facade where you can tell that the writer reallyyyy wants this all to be done to *them*... actually adorable. I honestly want to praise you for being such a good girl, using all that neediness into something productive for others. Sadly, I also need to tease you to bits just in case (just in case!) you thought the schtick wasn't painfully obvious. I'm sure you can think of plenty of ways to be teased. You've got a big imagination, haven't you?

This- I?!? Dhvdzpqhs xanust you YOU CAN T JUST DO THAT I FUCKN WHTA GOSH

I UM GOSH

Cutie I um

Please I um.what just gosh goshgoshgoshgoshgosh gosh um

Wow I just gosh

That just- I um

Word word thoughts (I got this when I couldn't respond and I've reread it like 5 times by now and it still like- MA'M HOW ARE YOU SO AMAING AT THIS AND JUST- Fuck goshgoshgoshgoshgosh)

I am um

Yeah um very very very much open to someone showing me my place I um

Goshgoshgoshgoshgoshgosh

I am um um gosh feelings words

So I- HOW DO I RESPOND TO THIS???!?!?

Gosh thank you for the feelings miss

[mewkwota]

I think a part of why I find Hub so cool is how he seems to be one that won't hold back in a fight. These sketches don't even scratch the surface on what I mean, but he has this certain feel on the battlefield.

(. . . Hey Mew, I think the word you're looking for is "violent".)

Whatever the case, I wanted to draw more battle scenes with him.

[lord-squiggletits]

Pharma's place in a Functionist society (headcanon)

So I've talked in some previous posts about all the reasons that Pharma isn't a functionist because canon never showed him espousing functionist ideals + he's actually in a place to be a victim of functionism. And I've been working on a Pharma-centric oneshot that made me put into words the best metaphor I can think of for Pharma's relationship with Functionism:

He doesn't support Functionism, but is simultaneously a beneficiary of it and also marginalized by it, because his position of being forged both a doctor and a jet basically turns him into a "token minority" of sorts.

I know that sounds kind of silly or maybe like a clumsy political allegory, but hear me out. There are a couple facts about Pharma and the circumstances of his forging that put him at the crossroads between privilege and marginalization within Functionism:

Tyrest says that Pharma was "famous for being forged." Not famous for being a forged medic-- otherwise surely Ratchet would be just as noteworthy-- but famous for being FORGED. But also, note that this is an opinion that SOCIETY had about Pharma, not something that Pharma espouses about himself. (For the sake of an example, Pharma isn't Starscream, who has an explicit, deep-seated need for others' love and approval. Pharma himself doesn't express any opinions on his own popularity or convey that fame/adoration is something he wants.)

Functionism on Cybertron held that if someone was born with a certain alt-mode, they can/should only have certain jobs. For people born with flight alt-modes, those people were almost always regulated to military or transportation/courier jobs

SIMULTANEOUSLY, Pharma was forged with medic hands, which under a Functionist society were viewed as the peak of medical care and all the best doctors were forged or at least had a "special something" that non-forged hands lacked (according to Ratchet).

So taken in combination, this means that from the moment of Pharma's birth, he straddled a line of Functionism between two different "predestined" paths for him, where he was simultaneously forged to be a doctor and also forged to fly, fitting into BOTH of these categories despite norms of Functionism which say you're one or the other. And I speculate that the reason Pharma is "famous for being forged" is precisely because of those lines he straddles: his very existence is a contradiction, but he was also FORGED that way. The same creed that dictated the two different functions of "hands" and "alt-mode" also says that Pharma should be what he was born to be. What he was born to be was a forged medic jet.

In my opinion, I think that being "famous for being forged" is sort of like a token-minority situation for Pharma, where perhaps Pharma was seen as a curiosity or even something exotic, not just as a person. Maybe because he was a jet and people assumed jets were only soldiers/transportation, a lot of his achievements were put in the light of "Oh, he's a really amazing doctor, for a jet" or "It's crazy that he's a doctor AND a jet at the same time". The attention Pharma received for the unique circumstances of his birth WAS positive, but it would've likely been framed in a bit of a condescending way, as if Pharma is noteworthy and famous not for being a good doctor, but for being a good doctor despite being born a jet.

So I would say that as far as Pharma's personal experience with Functionism, he simultaneously experienced privilege and marginalization. He enjoyed the privileges of being a medic while avoiding the restrictions of being a flight frame. However, a lot of the idolization and attention he received would have also come from a place of tokenizing Pharma: he's "famous for being forged," because in this society he's defying expectations merely for existing as himself. That is to say, Pharma in a Functionist society wasn't treated as remarkable because of who he is as a person and how hard he worked to be a good doctor; he was treated as remarkable for the circumstances of his forging, something he had no control over and can't change, and apparently Pharma being a forged medic jet is such a noteworthy origin that he's "famous" for it.

The above paragraph is purely headcanon, of course, but I like to imagine that part of Pharma's reason for having a big ego isn't out of simple vanity or insecurity, but because of a sort of "gifted student" syndrome, in a sense. From the moment he was forged he was treated as a rarity and an incredible phenomenon, and he would have had to work incredibly hard to be seen as "an incredible doctor" in his own right rather than just "that forged medic jet." Maybe, as a jet, he also had something to prove; he had to show to a Functionist society that being a jet doesn't make him an inferior doctor and that his alt-mode has nothing to do with his skills at his profession.

That is to say, I don't think Pharma would have been openly anti-Functionist, or had many opinions about it at all. I actually lean towards the interpretation that Pharma basically saw himself as getting lucky with the way he was forged and being content with the fact that he'd managed to carve out a reputation for himself as being incredibly skilled. However, Pharma not getting involved politically in Functionism doesn't change the fact that he WOULD have had a very complicated relationship with Functionism, in that alt-mode discrimination would have had an effect on him even though he was in the scientific/medical class and supposedly privileged.

[skymagpie]

Dexter S1 was actually that perfect prestige TV like the Sopranos and Breaking Bad, and it was filmed in a really good noir style which is why it's the best. I really found it hard watching S2 and S3 and only did it because Deb is my favourite character. I kinda wish they kept Dexter and Rita in their little ace relationship, but also past season 1 Rita just became The Wife™ character and they wrote her into the ground. S4 was excellent aside from the Rita issues, but I think I am enjoying S5 a lot because it's like a goddamn ao3 fanfic and it's Not Good but it's such a breath of fresh air and I like Lumen, like it gave the show something new and also I just think it's funny how fanficy Lumen is and she is matching his freak and I wish they kept her for the rest of the show and forever, she is perfect

[impossible-rat-babies]

i took these to have references, but holy moly

[tanktopdiaz]

Whomst was being mean about cardigans I'm ahdkjwkd anyways I have come to defend you as a born and raised socal girl. My college (in socal) literally told me in the orientation invite to wear light layers bc inside buildings here it's freezing. But outside it's warm. Currently in la in the sun you will burn in 5 minutes but in the shade you're shivering. I experienced this today at lunch. With my cardigan. As my source. In the mornings it can be 56 degrees and by lunch it's 89. Also. It's not that serious to be mean about it 😭

i got no dickin idea dawg lmaoooo. that is craaaaazy to me tbh - im in the south along the mississippi and we're hitting like 66/85 and the humidity is a bioatch. i know la has the waterfront so i just assumed it was the same kind of heat. how bad is humidity in the area? i just googed and it's not that much different than me. my problem pwoisonally is the humidity chokes me and drowns me in sweat and tries to bury me alive. that. in a cardigan. kill me dead

[affluent-havoc]

Ramble time about Makoto and a little mini headcanon I came up with cus why not B]

Sometimes, I like to believe that Makoto gets really deep into stuff. Basically him in his own little world, hyper-focused to the max such as him cleaning, research, planning. Stuff like that. In the peak level of him in this state, he'd go, burst into a room, rummage around for anything he might need, and leave all while anyone who was in the now ransacked room is just 100% ignored. Bursting into rooms with the determination of the Kool-Aid Man (def not the strength tho) Makoto doesn't even remember that there were people in the room either. He could have been in a room with 58 other people for instance and if you quizzed him on how many people were in that room he'd just blank out like "People? What people?" This applies to whoever he lives with as an adult as well as way back with his parent's and sister. I can see his parent's never getting why he'd zone out like this. Like, they've tried to get it cus they of course wanna understand this weird part about their oldest child. They never really succeeded with it though and just accepted it as one of his weird quirks. Meanwhile, Komaru teased the shit about it to him cus of course she would. After all, it's the little sister privilege to completely dunk on the older sibling. 'Tis the law. Plus, it's not like it's the biggest piece of ammo she has on her older brother. This is Makoto we're talking about after all. Also, cus why not, (might as well be a BIT self-serving hehehe) I'm slipping in my mini headcanon of Makoto, Kyoko, and Byakuya living together casually in the same apartment/small house. Plus, it's funny imagining these two experiencing Makoto's little moments like this. Feel Kyoko would be more used to Makoto basically forgetting her existence when he gets into these hyper-focusing grind moments. Even when she first learned about it, I doubt it'd affect her much. Like, what is she gonna do? Have a little grudge for a solid week and a half with her roommate and lowkey boyfriend? And, besides, what idiot would have a grudge going on for that lon- oh right... Byakuya exists. Yeah, unsurprisingly, the heir is the type to be petty as shit about something like this. Has 100% without fail been disappointed to some extent and bummed out whenever he gets ignored like this. Or ignored in general. At the end of the day, he's a bit of an attention whore (the bit taking it lightly) It's his tsundere way to act like a needy, bastard cat. He'd basically take it personally while Kyoko's shaking her head cus he's taking it personally and Byakuya's all like "Tch. Stop making the assumption I'm taking it personally" and they go back and forth about it during the week all while Byakuya side eyes Makoto who's very much not aware he's even done anything wrong. His little stunt only happened once that week and he doesn't even remember Byakuya being in the room with him while he was rushing about their living quarters looking for junk like some toothpaste and a hanger. And this goes on until the week ends until Byakuya's basically over it, Kyoko gives him the whole "I told you so" look which for her is just her regular expression but with one of her brows slightly raised which she may or may not be actively trying to raise it higher but can't cus that's as far as it goes. Also this is a common occurrence for them all at least once a month. Oh, and the week is the minimum amount of time for Byakuya to hold a petty grudge for and they've lasted way longer ^v^