#it’s actually fun bruh

[commandertartarsmoocher]

On this Friday I present to you:

a small batch of today's doodles !

[octylish]

It Takes Two to Tango

[anemonia13]

A pegasus who's capable of miracles no unicorn can do.

Clara and Daniil as ponies because that's what comes to me every winter idk.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

AHHH I'm so happy youre back to writing! I felt like the Rottmnt tickle community was dying there.

Been dying for a lee! Mikey Ler! Big bros fic.

~ 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗… ~

❤️💜🐢💙🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜����𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 ❤️💜🐢💙🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷, 𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽 🥲💔⁉️ 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙸 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂??? 𝙰𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝙸’𝙼 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝🩷💝💕˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟼𝟹𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛’s: 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️, 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 (𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚘’𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚊). 𝙱𝚞𝚝…𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕. 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!) 

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @pocky-dragon

@danineedshelp @jamiesgotchu @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @mythica0 @titters-and-tingles

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲!!! 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶!!! 

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐/‘𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐’ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊 (😵)!!! 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢…𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 😅…

𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚅𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙶𝚄𝚈𝚂 𝙸’𝙼 𝙳𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁

𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙿 𝚃𝙾 𝟶:𝟷𝟿– 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙵𝚄𝙽𝙽𝚈 🕺🏾✨ 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“MOVE YOU’RE HIPS, MIKEY!!!” Donnie yelled at his orange cladded younger brother. 

“I’M TRYING!!!” The box turtle yelled back, “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M SHAKIRA?!”

“WELL, YOU’RE HIPS DEFINITELY DO LIE BECAUSE I SEE NO FUCKING MOVEMENT!” The elder yelled in return which earned a loud snort of amusement from Leo in the peanut gallery; the slider enjoying the chaos and banter between Mikey and Donnie. 

It was a nice Saturday evening and the four brother’s spent the day just…casually hanging out, for no exact reason in particular. The brother’s just truly wanted to chill (for today…).

They did karaoke, binged movies, and y’know…just chilled. That’s what Summer was about: relaxation. 

Well…they were relaxed.

Until their nerdy scientist brother found a TikTok video that he quote on quote ‘Had to learn to get with the trendy trends for his likey likes.’

His words, not mine.

And so, he dragged Mikey into it because the dance required about two people (and Donnie wasn’t trying to make it seem like he was lonely). But sadly and not surprisingly, the young scientist has been trying to teach the youngest the choreography for about…3 hours.

3 hours. 

Let that sit with you for a second. Let that marinate. 

And let’s just say…Donnie’s patience wasn’t exactly the best. Especially when it came to dance. Plus, this dance wasn’t even hard! All that was required to do was move your hips and do dramatic hand movements like some stereotypical blonde ordering an overcomplicated Starbucks order!

In conclusion: not hard at all! 

And Donnie knew he wasn’t raised with a piece of cardboard! Mikey knew how to dance…!

…To an extent, anyway…

“It’s not my fault I’m stiff!” The youngest whined which only caused the second oldest to simply scoff, rolling his eyes with sass, “Well it’s gotta be someone’s fault.”

“It’s probably Draxum’s.” The slider suggested. 

“I concur. It is probably Draxum’s fault.” Donnie agreed, “Anyway, stiff or not stiff, I need you to learn how to do this dance.” The box turtle groaned again at the comment, “Why me though? Why can’t you just do it with Leo or something???”

“Me and Leo already learned the dance!” The softshell huffed proudly, “We learned, practiced and recorded it all yesterday.” 

“Twin type shit.” The second youngest added on, sending Donnie finger-guns. 

“Twin type shit.” The purple loving turtle amusedly agreed, not doing the same hand movement but just doing an awkward thumbs up which Leo couldn’t help but giggle to. 

Raph, who was sitting next to Leo on the couch scratched the top of his head a bit, pondering slightly. “Why don’t you try doing a different dance?” The eldest suggested, “Y'know…maybe one that doesn’trequire so much hip movement…?”

“Like The TikTok Rizz Party dance!” Leonardo happily suggested, standing up excitedly which only earned hard glares from all of his brothers. The second youngest rolled his eyes at the looks, putting a hand on his hip, “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You gotta admit: it’s simple to learn.”

“It’s not a dance— it’s a freaking demon ritual.” The snapping turtle deadpanned. 

“Same difference...” Leonardo huffed, sitting back down next to his older brother. Raph sighed impatiently, rubbing his temples like a single Mom that worked two jobs (sorry not sorry for that reference), “I’m too young for all of this bullshit…”

“Raph!” The youngest suddenly wailed, “Aren’t I moving my hips???” Mikey whined impatiently, demonstrating the dance which got a small stifled giggle from Leo. The leader in blue got up, covering his mouth to try and stop himself from laughing as he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

The eldest turtle grimaced, trying to hold back his laughter as well, “You’re…You’re moving something…” 

“He’s moving his fucking chest and shoulders…” Donnie explained, “Which are nowhere near your hips.” 

“Again: The Tik Tok Rizz Party is still an option.” Leonardo happily said as he went back to the lounge area and started to do the quote on quote ‘Tik Tok Rizz Party’ dance. The purple loving teen inwardly cringed as he watched his slightly younger brother’s antics, sighing sadly as he covered his face. 

Of all the individuals he had to be twins with…

“Sit your hyperactive ADHD ass down.” Raph demanded as he grabbed Leo’s shell with his hand, forcing him to sit back down.

“Anyways. Angel, I want you to move with your hips!” The softshell emphasized again, going behind Mikey and squeezing his hips to demonstrate how and when the youngest was supposed to move them (since the box turtle was apparently having an issue separating his chest from his hips).

Y'know, stiff people problems. Something Donnie couldn’t possibly relate to nor understand. 

“EEP-!!!”The youngest suddenly squealed, his face morphing to one of giddy panic, “D-Deehee! Noho stahahap!”

“I am helping you with your atrocious dancing, you buffon! Now stay still!” The second oldest huffed, squeezing the shortest turtle’s hips again. 

“You’re 'helping' tihihickles!” Mikey complained, holding onto his scientist brother’s wrists in a small attempt to stop him. Which didn’t…obviously. But it was worth a shot. An A for effort some might call it. 

Donnie tried to stifle his giggles, raising a confused brow, “Oho, my helping tickles, now does it? How is that even possible, my dear younger brother?” 

“Wahait w-wahahait dohohon’t— *squeal* nahahaha!” Mikey laughed, throwing his head back on Donnie’s shoulder as his knees gave out, trying to retreat unto the floor but his older brother only followed him as he did so.

“Don’t? Don’t what~?” The second oldest turtle asked incocently, scribbling his fingers against the other’s sides. The box turtle curled in on himself on the carpeted floor, kicking his legs back and forth. 

Donnie snickered, “Dude, I’m genuinely asking! What do you mean 'don’t'~?” 

Michelangelo just hugged his middles as he squirmed and screeched, giggling his small little heart out as his older brother tickled him. The young scientist sighed dramatically, sitting on the youngest’s legs as he stopped tickling him for a moment. 

“Hey, guys?” Donatello said as he turned to the red and blue duo sitting on the couch, “I miiiiight need some help over here. I’m feeling ignored by this one— he’s not answering me.” He deadpanned as he jabbed the turtle below him in the side, causing the youngest to sound like a overpowered drill screwdriver fusion. 

“Say less.” Raph grinned, going over to the PB&J duo as Leo quickly followed right behind. 

Okay…well, this hang-out-with-your-brothers-just-because-you-can hangout was turning left veryquickly. Perhaps that’s what Mikey gets due to the fact that he was spinning left and Donnie was spinning right…

Even though the purple banded turtle told him numerous times to turn the other direction, the youngest didn’t feel like listening. I guess he now knows how the second oldest feels when Mikey doesn’t pay attention to his 4 hour yap sessions.

As one smart, tooootally not demented 21 year old said: Karma’s a bitch. 

The box turtle squealed loudly as his other brother’s approached next to him and sat down. The youngest immediately retracted into his shell as panicky giggles from him echoed around the lair. 

The three older brother’s collectively groaned, knowing they’ve alllll danced this dance before. “Ugh…I hate when he does that…” Leo complained dramatically as he crossed his arms across his plastron. Raphael cracked his knuckles, his grin widening, “Don’t worry, boys. I got this.” The red banded turtle put the Mikey in his lap, blowing a raspberry directly on the youngest’s stomach. 

The reaction was almost like the speed of light as the orange banded turtle immediately erupted into loud mouse cackles, trying to wriggle his way out of his older brother’s iron grip although now that he was caught in the lion’s den…his attempts of escaping were now futile.  

“WHAHA— *squeak*?! NAHAHA?!?! *Squeak* RAPH RAPH RAHAHAPH!!!” Michelangelo giggly sputtered out, his laugh raising a pitch as Raphael refused to take any breath’s on the raspberry and just continued and continued. 

And Mikey knew Raph. For heaven’s sakes, that was his brother. The paint loving turtle knew (definitely NOT from experience) that Raph would not take a break unless the orange banded got out of his shell. 

“WHYHYHYHY???” The orange banded turtle cackled, his limbs and head coming out of his shell as he tried to glare at his brothers, which they all couldn’t help but awe to. “Awe, there you are~! Now this is definitely a fair fight!” The gentle giant happily exclaimed, removing his head from Mikey’s stomach. 

“ThIHIs ihis ahan ahamBUHUSH!!!” 

“Same difference.” Leo shrugged, squeezing the box turtle’s ankles repeatedly. “NAHAT THEHE FEEHEEHEET!!!” The orange banded turtle cried, kicking his legs around to try and make Leo dislodge his grip on his ankle. “Jeeheez…I didn’t eheven doohoo anything yehet!” The slider commented smugly.

“Guess it tickles that bad, huh, Mikester~?” The blue banded turtle teased. 

“BEEHEE QUIHIHIET YOHOU AHAHASS!!!”

Leo dramatically gasped at the rebuttal, gently pulling his little brother’s toes back and scribbling his fingers all over his arch. “That is no way to talk to your beloved older brother!” The slider lightly scolded. Donnie, who was next to Mikey nodded in agreement, his fingers pinching all over his littlest brother’s ribs, “I think someone needs to be taught a lesson…” 

“NOHOHAHAH! IHI DAHA— *squeak* DOHOHON’T!!!” The box turtle protested, swatting his hands on Raph’s arm like a drunk jellyfish. “And hitting too?!” The blue banded teen announced, “Your reeeeallyasking for it…” 

Raphael raised a hand, wiggling his fingers near Mikey’s neck. The turtle in question paled, “NAHAT THEHE NEHEHECK!!! YOHOU GUHUYS IHI ACTUALLY CAHAN’T DOOHOO THIHIHIS PLEHEHEASE—“

“Your neck? Oh, what a great idea!” Donnie smiled sweetly, one of his hands dancing around the right side of the fake dancer’s neck as Raph dipped his head in the other side. “IIIII…gitchie gitchie gotchu~!” The gentle-giant teased, rubbing his face back and forth in the crook of the youngest’s neck. 

Mikey let out the most inhuman screech to ever exist in between his cackles, shaking his head and scrunching his shoulders desperately, “LEHEHET MEEHEE GOHOHAHAHA!!!” He squeaked. 

“WHYHYHY MEEHEEHEE?!?!” The box turtle whined despreatley through his laughs, unable to do anything but just lay in Raph’s lap and just take the tickles at this point in time. 

Speaking of, WHY was he getting tickled by his big brothers in the first place again??? What the hell did he even DO to deserve this torment? They all just basicslly jumped him as if he had money on him or something!!!

And for the record: Mikey in fact did not. This time at least. 

He borrowed some cash from April last week but immediately put it inside of his piggy bank the second he got home. Since he knew either one of his greedy grubby hand brother’s would snatch that cash cash money cash cash right away…

But…wait.

What was Mikey pondering about again???

“Because you’re the youngest.”The blue loving teen simply said, “Aaaaand we just gotta tickle the heck out of you ‘cuz you’re just so cute~!” Leo cooed playfully, his hands squeezing and prodding at Mikey’s knees. 

“Not too much now, Leo. You’re a baby brother too.” Donnie commented smugly. “By two seconds!!!” The blue banded turtle pouted, glaring at the soft-shell. The soft-shell in question chuckled at the angry face expression, kneading Mikey’s hips mercilessly. “Two seconds that makes you the second youngest. And a baby brother.” He taunted, grinning at the annoyed look that his younger twin was giving him. 

“What are you guys going on about? You’re all baby brothers.” Raph exclaimed.

“So are you!” Leo huffed, “April exists, y’know!”

“GUHUHUHUYS!!!” The youngest screamed, trying to get his siblings attention as they bickered. “Hm? What’s wrong, little bro? Did the Tickle Monster find a bad spot~?” Raph asked, now blowing raspberries at the orange banded turtle’s neck. 

“YOHOU— *squeal* FAHACK!!! GOHOH AWAHAHAY!!!” The box turtle screamed. Leo rolled his eyes fondly, scoffing lightly, “You love this so don’t even, Miguel.” 

“Why should we go away~?” The eldest fake pouted, tickling Mikey under his chin lightly, “Is this a bad spot~? Is that why? Yeah~? Awe, what a shame…” 

“PLEHEHEASE BEEHEE QUIHIHI— *squeak*!!!” The youngest bellowed, “STAHAHA— STAHA—!!! PLEHEHEASE AHANHTHING BUHUHUT THAHAHAT!!!”Mikey purely went into silent cackles, happy tears falling down his face as tiny mouse squeaks followed. “IHIHI *squeal* SURRENDER!! GUHUYS PLEHEHEASE *squeal* I’M *squeal* GOHOHONNA DIHIHIE!!!”

The three brother’s removed their tickling hands, ceasing their attack as the youngest wheezed out remaining laughs breathlessly, “Ihi cahan’t breeheeathe…”

“Considering the fact that you are talking right now (which requires you to breathe), I think you’ll be fine.” Donnie commented, handing Mikey a glass of water which the youngest basically snatched and chugged in 2 seconds flat.

Freaking heathen…

“Did we go too far?” Leo dramatically gasped, going over and taking the orange banded teen from the eldest’s lap, squeezing Mikey in a hug and looking him over like he was a random exotic species specimen. “You're not dead...right? Oh man, Dad will literally kill me if I accidentally killed you…wait. That would make me the youngest. Oh well, I never wanted a younger brother anyway...”

“Hey hehey hehehey! Slow your freaking role! Ihi aham nohot dead!” The box turtle giggled, raising a brow at his immediate older brother’s antics. The slider sighed mockingly, “Had all my hopes up for nothing…” 

The smallest turtle rolled his eyes at the comment before having a moment of realization, “Whahat were weehee eheven doing agahain…?” Mikey giggly asked, resting his head against Leo’s shoulder as the slider rubbed his carapace. “Teaching you to dance.” Donnie sighed sadly, “But, alas, some things were just not meant to be.” 

Mikey glared playfully before landing his eyes on his scientist brother’s phone that was leaning up on one of the tables. “Dee! You were recording???” The box turtle screeched, hiding his face in his shell as the others laughed. “Don records everything, little bro. With or without his phone. So either way you were gonna end up being recorded.” Raph explained teasingly. 

“You never know, Mikejandro, maybe you’ll blow up on Tik Tok!” Leo suggested, “I’d call it: The Disgruntled Demise of a Box Turtle.” 

“Talk about word vomit…” The scientist mumbled under his breath, going to where his phone stood as his siblings bickered in the background. The soft-shell replayed some of the footage as he muted the video, smiling softly (get it? Soft-shell, smiling softly? I’m so funny you guys…) at the shenanigans that unfolded not too long ago. 

The second oldest chuckled softly (still get it?) to himself, putting his phone in his sweatshirt pocket as he went back to where his brother’s were sitting. 

“…Do you guys think I can fit 5 s’mores in my mouth?” Mikey suddenly asked. 

“Michael…please don’t do that. You could choke.” Donnie shuddered.

“Plus, you’re being a coward.” Leo added, “Try 10.” 

“I think 15 is better.” Raph grinned, “But it’s okay if you can’t do it. No one could ever beat Raph’s 25 s’mores record...” The red banded teen huffed out proudly. 

“…it’s ‘cuz you’re fucking rotund, man. No one would or could beat you even if we hired a whole football team to go up against you.” The art loving teen said. 

Raphael blinked confused, “Ro-tuh-wha—?” 

“He’s calling you fat.” Donnie giggly explained. 

Raph’s jaw comically opened wide in awe, hitting his littlest brother’s shoulder, “RAPH IS NOT FAT!!!” He shouted defensively. 

“Whatever you say, Jupiter…” Mikey retorted almost immediately as the twins completely lost it, the three smaller turtles soon descending into loud contagious cackles. The red banded turtle crossed his arms, glaring at them profusely, “You all are my 13th reason…” The eldest grumbled miserably, despite the soft small smile clearly evident on his face. 

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

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

[xxplastic-cubexx]

gonna read all of House of M this weekend i think

[mamawasatesttube]

why do i have so many ideas for fics that im literally planning out what im going to be working on through fucking. february of next year. help

[butwhatifidothis]

(regarding the Fort Merceus scene)

"Claude doesn't know as much about the Seiros faith because he's an outsider" thanks for ignoring the entire point of Claude's route just to insist he doesn't grow as a character

Ohhh wait, no, it's not that he's not knowledgeable, it's just him definitely lying! Because disagreements? Regarding tenets of a religion? Impossible! Claude must be feigning ignorance and lying because that's all he does as a character! He's tricking the diligent Lorenz into thinking things that aren't true, because Church Bad and Claude would never tell the truth!

[foolsocracy]

YOU'RE A TIM DRAKE STAN, TOO?? That guy's one of my favorite, but I think I'm leaning more towards Jason Todd as of the moment. Him and Peter-Noir have some things in common, like being forced to become an adult because of a responsibility that was given to them even though they were just kids/teens. I love my mentally unstable boys.

He's the one that really pulled me into DC. His earnest and obsessive ways endeared me.

I love all the robins though! They all have such different aspects to them that I really like. I haven't read too much of jason's robin days but from panels I've seen he looks really fun. And I had a great time watching Under the Red Hood which also broke my heart. He does have stuff in common with Pete! I feel awful for them both for their canon lives they've lived 😭

Strangely enough I think by now I have more Robin-Dick that I've read than Robin-Tim, but I feel like the Robin Tims ive read have more weight to them so who can say. 60s teen titans vs Death in the Family & Contagion & No mans land, etc. Its pretty different lol

[silusvesuius]

this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑

[sukunasweetheart]

Why do you like Sukuna so much?

I was halfway through writing up a few paragraphs but i ended up scrapping it bc i ddint knwo what i was saying anymore. Hes just. My everything

I JUAT LOVE HIM SAUR MUCH WHAT IS THERE NOT TO LOVE??#;@**# HES SO GRRRRAAAHHHHHHHH 💝💓💝💓💗💗💘💓💝💕💘💞💓💝💗💝💓💝💞💝💞💘💞💓💝💓💓💝💘💞💞💝💓💝💗💓💝💘💞💕💘💞💘💓💓💗💝💓💝💘💞💘💕💞💝💓💝💓💞💝💞💞💝💞💓💝💗💝💞💞💝💓💝💓💝💞💞

[useeer]

Yall I can't do this no more I might write my own little fic of Reader and venture at a wedding (not theirs) and meeting, chatting and then Sloan asking them for a dance.

[dipplinduo]

Sweet & Sour Dipplins: Fun Easter Egg

I just casually left two very hidden hints about some pretty significant things tha will be coming up in the fic within the last 5 posts that are on my blog prior to this one. One has symbolic implications. Another has storyline implications. They are NOT in your face because of the gravity of what they imply, and if you realize them they mayyyyy make you feel I'm evil LOOOOL

For those who like the hunt and wanna know now: have fun searching!! 😁✨

[stinkypeanutbutter]

Taylor angst PLEAASEE pretty please I’m such a Taylor fan. I like her so much. Taylor angst about losing the people she loves

adding to my list 😼😼

[kanene-yaaay]

Cuddle Time

Kanene's notes: This was supposed to just be posted tomorrow but I got too excited dfghjhgfgh. I am extremaly weak for any fanfic with cuddles and Guapoduo so I decided to get one of my favorite tropes and add some giggly fluff to it. Hope you like!

Warnings: This is a tickle fic. There's a lot of swearing. But besides that, this is purely fluff with a pinch of angsty thoughts that are barely there before going away. Ler!Roier and Ticklish!Cellbit. Around 2.500 words. My spanish is still something I'm trying to improve so pls forgive any grammar mistakes.

[~*~]

Roier was on his lap. 

This was a common occurrence, nowadays. Still, it made Cellbit’s heartbeat in a samba rhythm before calming down to a song of safety and happiness every time he thought about it. Feelings which only increased as Roier kept idly playing with his hair and massaging his scalp.

Technically, he knew exactly what his husband was doing. He used the same technique every time the detective got too lost in his enigmas, trying to claw and rip his way into the Federation’s secrets so they could have a tiny chance to escape from this island. First he would come to his office (not the one in Order Theoritas, but the old one because he kept forgetting to move the computer to the new building) and call him to go home, one, two, even three times before giving up and following one of the three usual routes: 

1) Going away and doing whatever project he had in mind - usually with Richarlyson, - ending up in their Castle to sleep when he was over.

2) Staying on the coach nearby and sing while going through his albums, both the one with their investigations or the other with their daily lives, pulling Cellbit’s attention from time to time to remember some lost memory while showing him a fun picture of Cellbit’s first day in the island or Foolish shooting Slime in their wedding.

3) Deciding to make this the perfect opportunity to have his own quality cuddle time with his husband. This route usually brought plenty of other options that could consist in: Choosing to drap himself on the other’s shoulders and play with his free hand, talking about any and everything or just keeping the soft silence between them. Or giving him a massage, not without chuckling and throwing pokes of fun in a teasy tune about how the other would absolutely melt with the touch and pretend that he wasn’t fighting to keep his eyes open. 

Sometimes, like this one, he would simply sit on his lap and rest his face on the creek of his neck, smiling half amused and half fondly about how Cellbit wouldn’t even comment or blink when he decided to do that, just open his arms and then keep writing or typing when he was comfortable on the new position.

The brazilian couldn’t actually point with precise exaction when each route was chosen every time, especially since others factors played in this like his husband’s feelings, Forever and Felps coming with Roier to help him to pull him out of the dark places of his mind after a bad day of working for the Federation or when Richarlyson would be around, wanting to spend time with him and Cellbit would be too much of a butter heart to actually deny his son anything under the Sun. 

(He was doing all of this for them after all.)

Even when he thought he had finally come to find a pattern in Roier’s choices, his love would just come with a new route or decision that would totally throw him off the track and oblige him to reorganize all his thoughts. 

But it was okay. He didn’t mind being wrong in this at all. Actually, it was like a domestic, nice puzzle that Cellbit could spend the rest of their lives trying to solve and he just couldn’t wait for when this would be his only worry.

He only was certain on one thing: most of the time Roier preferred to keep the third option for when Cellbit spent too much time on his books and forgot to keep up with simple human things like day and night, sleep schedules and eating. Cellbit was actually grateful that, even so, his husband would still keep trying to quietly convince him to let go of his enigmas with soft touches, some jokes, distracting kisses and complaints until the other finally caved and went home with him than Roier actively coming and physically pulling him out of his chair to rest. 

Even if the idea of being carried in his strong arms, toned with muscles and strength, would sometimes make his brain and face fry, both knew that his investigation was way too important and his mind too set in find a solution for him to try to rest even when papers and books and photos weren’t in front of him. This action would just make both of their frustration grow when his thoughts wouldn’t just shut off and Roier wouldn't get to rest as well.

So, they played this game. 

Roier pretended that each one of his moves were just him enjoying some quality time with his husband and not a plan to lovely break his resolve bit by bit until he went to eat and sleep and Cellbit pretended that he wasn’t, piece by piece, archiving a few good leads to follow on the next days and finishing his thoughts with the ones he already had in hand as yawns crept their way up his throat with each minute of the snuggle.

Right now the mexican was rubbing his back, changing from feeling the goosebumps following his fingertips when they lightly traced the skin to listening to his small (barely even audibles if he wasn’t so close) appreciative hums when he firmly pressed his thumbs in circles on his shoulders, following the path to his neck and going back before re-starting his circle.

(...)

It’s been a couple of hours since Roier first appeared and demanded cuddles - determined to make his husband get out of his office this night after spending the last three days there, - until he finally stopped listening to the typing of his computer. He turned his head from its resting place on the other’s shoulders, watching as Cellbit pinched the bridge of his nose with a tired, frustrated expression on his face.

Trying to know anything about their current prison was a painfully slow and exhausting process. It was no news to watch the shadows under his husband’s eyes get darker and darker as each answer brought other 4 new questions. Sometimes, Cellbit would confess in the sleepless nights, he came out of his investigations feeling much emptier than when he started, sensing his hope starting to give out to desperation.

And how could Roier let him shimmer in those thoughts under his supervision?

He turned around and kissed his chin, hands slowly creeping up to his sides, laying there for comfort and warmth as Cellbit twitched instinctively, sighed and opened a tiny smile at the other, letting his hand fall on Roier’s arm and rubbing circles there, still staring at the computer.

“Terminó? (Did you finish?) Did you already…” he then began typing idly on the back of the chair, pretending to be the detective “....hacked la Federacion?” (the Federation?)

“Uh hm, uh hum.” Cellbit immediately jumped on his silliness, also typing quickly and senselessly on his computer before doing a lower, grave voice full of glitching. “I’m in.”

“Apoco si, pendejo.” (Sure, stupid.)

“É verdade, é verdade. It’s true. I called a boat to come get us all of this, it must be getting close.” 

“Si, si. Ya están en Vergiça, cabrón.” (Yes, yes. They’re already got on Dickland, idiot.)

“Oh, did you find them when you went there?”

“En portugués, Cellbit, en portugués.” (In portuguese, Cellbit, in portuguese.)

The brazilian let out a fond snicker, rolling his eyes, trying but not succeeding to hide how much happy it made him that the other was making a true effort to learn his language just as much as he tried to learn spanish.

“Ok, ok. Você encontrou com eles quando foi pra lá?”

“No, no, no. No pude ir porqué (I couldn’t go because) mi pepee is very small.”

Cellbit couldn’t stop the crackle that was fished from his throat at this, hand lightly hitting his tabletop and coming to hide his eyes, losing their battle of keeping a serious face as the conversation grew more and more foolish and they went deeper and deeper in the joke.

Roier smiled. He missed hearing that freeing sound. Even though Cellbit got much more relaxed and happy around him, it was easier to see that, since Jaiden’s mission in that giant dungeon, he had been much more stressed and on edge. 

That is why he couldn’t help but immediately reflect the joy in his husband’s face as his laughter took turns in being totally quiet or having high pitched sounds. It was adorable.

Also, it gave him a very good idea.

He absently adjusted his hold on the other’s waist, glad that his smirk was hidden due their position.

“Que te ries, cabrón, eh? Que te ries?” (What are you laughing at, huh, idiot? What are you laughing at?)  He threw the bait, already knowing what the other would say.

“Nothing, nothing.” Suddenly a squeal filled the room, which might or not be related with Roier choosing this exact time to rhythmically squeeze his sides, going up and down on the tickle spot quickly and skillfully, counting that the surprise attack and fast scribbling of his fingers would be enough to not allow the other to turn the tables before he could enjoy at least a good amount of Cellbit’s cute laughter. “Guapito!”

“Huh? Que dije, gatinho? No hablo inglés, sorry, sorry.” (Huh? What did you say, gatinho? I don’t speak english, sorry, sorry.)

“Pendejo!” He tried to grab his wrists, but with a swift movement Roier caught one of his hands and intertwined their fingers, pulling his arm up and then having no obstacles to attack his unprotected armpit with all the scratches and pokes that he knew that would make the detective completely lose any trace of coherent thought. 

Cellbit threw his head backwards with a short ‘eee’ sound, silent laughter ringing in the air for a few seconds before he tried to become a ball of protection, squeaks and yelps falling like a waterfall from his lips as his hand went from trying to hide his smile to pushing the tickling away.

“Awww, no mames, wey. Cellbit you’re so ticklish, man. You’re ticklish everywhere.”

As if to prove what he was saying, Roier began spidering his fingers anywhere his fingers could reach, prodding the space between his ribs, scribbling on his sides, squeezing his hips, tracing his neck all while watching the other’s laughter descend in a string of high pitched giggling that made his cheeks burn and eyes gleam in mirth. 

“Literally ticklish everywhere. A ver, a ver: Boom” (Look at this, look at this) 

A poke on his armpit and another squeal shot through the room, more of them following as he kept poking his entire torso randomly, drinking on the gigantic smile on Cellbit’s face. “See? Very, very ticklish. Boom. Boom. Boom.”

“Não, sem cócegas, sem cócegas!” (No, no tickling, no tickling!) His voice was breathless, the words barely understandable with all the giggles.

Roier adjusted himself to a sitting position on his lap, letting go of his arm so both of his hands would be free. Cellbit latched on his wrists but didn’t actually push him away.

“Oh no,” He gasped dramatically, making his voice in a deep tune of despair that he knew sounded ridiculous enough to increase the foolishness of all of this, both of his hands following Cellbit’s torso around when it instinctively tried to squirm away from his hold, digging on any tickle spot available before happily jumping to another, no matter how much the detective tried to wiggle away or cull in protection. “Las cosquillas, Cellbit! Las cosquillas te encontraron, nooo! Ya no puedo salvarlo, és muy tarde.” (The tickles, Cellbit! The tickles found you, nooo! I can no longer save you, it’s too late)

Roier then added a few grunting sounds as he made an entire show of fighting his own hands, throwing himself from one side to another and swearing before finally stopping his attack. He felt a bit silly in doing all that but seeing the blush crept in Cellbit’s neck and how his snickers still danced joyfully in the air for the next few minutes even after he ceased his attack, he felt proud.

The brazilian tried for a third time to open his eyes - black and glinting with a playful mirth and a few unshed tears - and endured exactly two entire seconds of looking at Roier before his chuckling grew anew. Roier couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Se murió, noo. Estás completamente muerto.” (He died, noo. He is completely dead.)

Cellbit weakly punched his shoulder, his own still bouncing with the leftover laughter.

“Callate, estúpido!” (Shut up, stupid!)

“Eh? Estúpido?” Roier didn’t wait not a single second before clawing on his stomach, sniggering malefically at the surprised crackling that exploded from the other, his hand hitting the tabletop. “Ya está, ya está. Ya no voy más a dejarte ir. Grosseirinho. Gatinho grosseirinho” (Enough, enough. I’m not letting you go, now. Rude. Rude gatinho)

“Desculpa, desculpa.” (I’m sorry, i’m sorry)

“Nah, nah, nah. Con esa boquita me besas?” (Do you kiss me with that mouth?)

With a bolt of strength Cellbit adjusted his hold and pulled the other forward, making him lose his balance and fall on his chest. He lost no time before capturing his lips in a kiss, immediately making Roier’s brain stop and his entire body freeze before melting on his chest, the tickle attack coming to halt, totally forgotten.

They spent a few moments like this before breaking apart. 

“Si, con esa boquita te beso.” (Yes, I kiss you with that mouth.) Cellbit replied, satisfied in taking the other’s teasy grin right out his lips.

Roier, ignoring how hot his cheeks felt, snickered at how proud and playful the other’s smirk was, especially when Cellbit didn’t try even the slightest bit to hide how smug he felt since, even with a rushed plan created while he was laughing his ass off, he knew his husband well enough to know exactly what to do to stop his thoughts and attacks immediately. 

It wasn’t easy to catch the flirty fighter out of guard but it was worth it every single time.

Still, Roier just couldn’t help himself but tease his love just a tiny little bit more.

“Nah, pinche beso sin fueza. (Nah, what a fucking weak kiss) One more, one more.” 

He then lowered his head, pretending to go for another kiss before quickly changing his direction and planting a raspberry on the other’s neck, quickly following it with another and another and a fourth one before losing the battle against his own crackles and resting his forehead on Cellbit’s shoulder, still not believing in the honest to god shriek that came out of the other’s mouth, more laughing quickly following it.

Cellbit sweared at him and lightly pushed his arm, but both just let themselves calm down from the adrenaline and the high in a melody of increasingly quieter giggles.

“How did you say cosquillas in portuguese? Co… consewhat?”

“Nah, nah, nah. I’m not teaching you that.”

“Come on, man!”

Cellbit squeezed his side, making him jump with a yelp and get out of the chair while he was quick to follow, standing on his feet and stretching with a yawn. A worryingly number of cracks followed that action and that made Roier relax, knowing his husband would be too tired to get any revenge now. It was almost 4 am, afterall.

“Outro dia te conto. Vamos, pendejo,” (I will tell you another day. Let’s go, idiot) the detective turned off the computer and held his hand out, giving Roier’s one a tender kiss when he immediately answered the gesture before intertwining their fingers. Roier could feel a bolt of electricity and warmth travel his entire body at that “Let’s go to the castle. I will finish the rest of my work tomorrow.”

Roier kissed his cheek and pulled his warpstone, smiling. “I will follow you, gatinho.”

No matter what or where, he really would.

Cellbit smiled, pulled his own warpstone, starting to disappear in sparkles of purple. “I will wait, guapito.”

And, for forever, that is also true.

They slept relaxed and in peace that night.

[~*~]

Random fun fact: Forever and Felps are the only ones capable of making Cellbit stop working for very different reasons: Forever because he also has a thick skull and can and WILL spend the entire night complaining about the fact that Cellbit isn’t getting out of his office and how HE is already bored for being in his office and even calling Richas and Roier to try to help him. While Felps is because the logic and serious part of his brain automatically shut off everytime his best friend is around and usually they get lost talking about semantics and philosophy and random questions like what can and can not be considered a soup.

[aro-culture-is]

Fandom aro culture is wanting to be obnoxious about your arospec headcanons but the idea of anyone coming after you for them makes you want to scream

.

[blossoms-phan]

life is saur random