#im out of it tonight
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disabeetled · 13 days ago
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reminder to all my disabled lovelies that "gross" symptoms do not make you gross or lesser in any way. incontinence, vomiting, irritable bowels, or gastrointestinal issues shouldn't be as demonized as they are. you are real, valid, and loved
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xxplastic-cubexx · 1 month ago
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oh boy 2AM !!!!!!
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cyani07 · 1 year ago
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two different kinds of tntduo AUs
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h0nkshroom · 9 months ago
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gently places these in your hands and cartwheels away into the night
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temeyes · 9 months ago
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studies
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princesssarcastia · 5 months ago
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re-watching the second episode of leverage and wondering, for the first time, how much of a revelation nathan ford's crusade was for eliot spencer.
did he have any plan, before then? any path forward that brought him closer to where he wanted to be? or was he stuck in a holding pattern, figuring that retrieval work for rich people who weren't damien moreau was as close to becoming a better man as he could ever reach?
how much did it mean to him, do you think, to be given the opportunity to do some good in the world again?
obviously he's of the opinion he'll never be redeemed, and he's not wrong, per se. but I'm suddenly curious about the internal journey there, for him, in the early days. do you think it was like a gentle dawn finally breaking? do you think it was a relief? or was it terrifying? realizing that he could actually do better, that what he chose to do next actually mattered?
no wonder eliot never abandoned nathan ford, despite all possible provocation. how could he ever betray or desert the man who gave him a hand up out of the darkness, who showed him there was still a path forward?
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satans-knitwear · 3 months ago
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Topless outdoor coffee mornings anyone??
Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me
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safe-from-sharp-teeth · 4 months ago
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a bit wet, a bit loud, but it's home.
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heartorbit · 1 year ago
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a fool and a sinner
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fashion4standusers · 1 year ago
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Anyway, if I had a nickel for every time a series had six installments that gradually escalated in ridiculousness, only for the sixth installment to end with a universe reboot and the seventh installment to pick up in a new universe where alternate versions of the original characters now exist in the distant past, I'd have two nickels.
One of those series is JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. The other is Riverdale
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fanghaunt · 1 year ago
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fall fox! 🦊🍂
traditional work with gradient map applied
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hinamie · 6 months ago
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second years designs :D only have a few more characters left to do this has gone so quick ,,
jjk atla!au with @philosophiums
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goodlucktai · 2 months ago
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9, raph and leo?
dialogue prompts
9. “I know, I know it hurts.”
x
When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father. 
The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab. 
It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill. 
While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face. 
“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”
Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics. 
At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”
Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things. 
A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky. 
Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard. 
All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine. 
Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again. 
But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression. 
They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed. 
It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going. 
“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up. 
There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.  
——
“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day. 
There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.
But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is. 
“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”
There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold. 
To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty. 
“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”
He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks. 
Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.
Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to. 
And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam. 
He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat. 
His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack. 
“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize. 
His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it. 
“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side. 
Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there, but Leo runs to meet him. 
A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old. 
“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false. 
“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose. 
Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding. 
He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.  
“Problem?”
“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”
“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently. 
Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on. 
And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.
When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”
Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces. 
“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says, disquietingly convincing. “Just had a difference of opinion with our hosts is all.” 
“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen from now on until I say so,” Raph adds sternly. 
Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”
“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”
Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away. 
“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat. 
“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!” 
“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it. 
He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen? 
It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if. 
——
After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway. 
“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands. 
There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer. 
“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.” 
Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again. 
“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”
Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer. 
“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.” 
Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time. 
“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”
Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick. 
“Leo—”
“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”
This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that. 
He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then. 
“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”
Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore. 
It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refuse to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him. 
“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”
He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of this for no good reason, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second. 
But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything. 
“What word?” he finally says. 
“You pick,” Raph tells him. 
A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground. 
“‘Goose’,” he suggests.
"‘Goose’ it is," Raph replies firmly, committing it to memory.
He lifts his good arm and drags his little brother into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. Leonardo scrambles to return the embrace, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much. 
Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac. 
“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”
The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore. 
“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D oneshot on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”
A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh. 
“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”
“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on. 
It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all. 
He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him. 
“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”
Raph’s listening this time. 
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mikeyrrevenge · 1 month ago
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reading Where Are Your Boys Tonight (2023) for the first time is driving me insane. throwing here some quotes that made me short circuit:
"Pete would come to Misshapes because Mikey would go"
"I met Panic! at the Vegas Warped Tour date. They were young. Super sweet. Pete was like 'Hey, can you [MCR] meet these guys, they love you, you're one of their favourite bands'"
"Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie were like Lennon and McCartney"
"My Chem is really the band from this world that comes to mind as feeling very protective of the queer kids and young women in their audience. Which is why, even today, they still feel set apart from a lot of their peers."
"Everybody thought me [Travie] and William Beckett were a couple."
"I definitely have a photo of Gabe and William from The Academy Is... kissing eachother in New York City. I think at one point in time it could've broken the internet. Now i think everyone kind of knows that sort of thing was going on. I never did hear of anything beyond that happening between the bands. But i wouldn't be surprised."
"Definitely a presence online of fanfiction involving all sorts of guys from that Decaydance scene. There was some story about me [Adam Siska] and Ryan Ross being lovers, which i thought was hilarious"
"[Who was the best kisser? to Gabe] Definitely Pete. Maybe tied with William Beckett."
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wabbitears · 17 days ago
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hit indie developers limbolane is dropping great god grove tomorrow and I can already feel the hyperfixation madness crawling in Please Please Check Out This Game When It Arrives PLEASE!!!!
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godslino · 10 months ago
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“i need space” | minho established relationship. angst. hurt/comfort.
Minho knows that when you’re in a mood, it’s best to leave you be until you figure it out.
He’s not really one to pry, and you’re not one to be outwardly open when it comes to your feelings either. But Minho can read you, knows what makes you tick, knows when you’re on edge and need the space.
There’s only so much to do in the house that doesn’t involve you. He makes coffee, he watches a bit of tv, he stands at the window and stares at the cars that drive by. The hardest part is resisting the urge to glue himself to your side the way he wants to.
You’ve been in bed for most of the day. You came home last night, shoulders slumped, and didn’t really respond much when he tried asking. “‘M tired,” is all you said, and Minho could only nod and watch as you retreated into the bedroom.
He doesn’t take it personally. He knows you don’t mean it, knows that in time you’ll peek your head around the corner and ask for him to do what he does best: to wrap his arms around you and never let go. So instead of stretching himself thin, he leaves for the gym, and decides to give you room to roam the house freely if you need.
The workout is hard. He thinks about you the whole way through. He stops by your favorite cafe on the way home and orders your coffee exactly the way you like it, plus some pastries. You’ve been asking for the chocolate croissant they sell for weeks now, too busy with work to stop by on your own.
You’re still in bed when he gets back, the sheets pulled up around your shoulders. “Baby,” Minho says quietly, inching forward, “Hey. I got you some coffee, do you want to come out?”
He kneels in front of you, pulls back the blanket to reveal teary, bloodshot eyes. “I thought you were mad,” you croak out, your voice wet.
“What? No, of course I’m not mad. Hey, shh,” he climbs in, pulls the covers down around the both of you and lets you tuck your head under his chin. Minho’s heartbeat is steady against your ear, his hands soft as they run through your hair.
“You left,” you whisper quietly, “I thought I made you mad.”
“Never. I thought, well, I knew you were exhausted. Things have been hard, yeah? I thought you needed space.”
Minho feels your fingers tighten around the fabric of his sweatshirt. He responds by squeezing you tighter, a silent reminder that he’s there.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to say it, but I don’t need space—I need you.”
There’s a silence, filled with the sounds of your staggered breathing and Minho’s shushing. He takes a deep breath, lets it fill his lungs, allows you to take up even more space in his heart; more than he ever thought imaginable.
“I’m here,” he whispers, burying his nose into your hair, “I’m always here.”
.
.
[tags: @jisunglyricist]
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