#n get therapy

[meimeikyu]

sometimes i think ppl forget how fucked in the head geno is like. i see so many ppl make him soft boy or like really hating murder but. here to remind you all this man TRIED TO DESTROY HIS ENTIRE UNIVERSE. MULTIPLE TIMES. POSSIBLY HUNDREDS OF TIMES.

anyway him n dust should be friends

[hinamie]

august

[bacchuschucklefuck]

soon it'll be dawn again

transcript under the cut ⏬

page 01

Fig: no way? - you're still up?

Riz: Wh– yes?

Riz: Why'd I not be.

page 02

Fig: I me~~ean - that took.

Fig: whole day.

Riz: Yeah?

Fig: 'm beat.

Riz: you should sleep.

page 03

Fig: nah. my guy's still up

Fig: I wanna hang out.

page 04

Riz: That's really nice.

Fig: Hah! - Nobody ever expects an Archdevil rockstar to be nice.

Riz: … yeah. - 's just budget work tho. (the stuff I'm working on) - I've heard it's boring.

page 05

Fig: yeah, but you do it…

Riz: It keeps things going, right? - Nothing happens if nobody sits down and - does the thing.

Fig: That's right… - though. Yeah.

page 06

Fig: sometimes it's someone else who - doesn't want the same thing to happen.

Riz: … - mm.

page 07

Riz (off screen): …It took me a long time to get that not everyone likes doing what I do. - 's probably because you guys are so nice– - or. - kind.

Riz (off screen): to anyone too, not just. - the people you /love/.

page 08

Riz: that's not how it is elsewhere. - The world's– not. hostile. - but 's not like it's kind.

Riz: So I'm doing as much as I can now… 

page 09

Fig: Hey.

Riz: ?

Fig: Go dig some dirt with me.

page 10

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - oh you meant like - actual dirt. (not incriminating information)

Fig: o yea.

Fig: there's clay in the backyard soil. - sometimes when I'm sun deficient or something I go touch dirt for a bit.

page 11

Fig: here u go

page 12

Riz: uh

Fig: now we make a thing! - 'm pretty good at freehanding a bowl.

Fig: I'll show u

page 13

Fig: just– yep, flatten that out as evenly as u can, then–! - actually ur nails'd be so good at cutting out the strip. [larger than usual space] wait. - wait. wait u can carve patterns with them! we HAVE to try

Riz: uh - What. do I carve?

Fig: anything!!!

page 14

Fig: and– yep just seal the inside uh. seam?

Fig: yep that works - okay time's up! all contestant hands up

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - okay - wh. what's next?

Fig: haha - watch this.

(sound effect text): FWOO—MP

page 15

Riz: WH– DON'T JUST DO THAT???

Fig: Now it's fired!

Riz: THAT WAS NOT SAFE

Fig: (actually it's just dry. if u add water rn it'll dissolve)

Fig: ok catch!

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - careful!!

Fig: dw no need haha

page 16

Riz (thought bubble): oh - it's warm…

Fig: now I want you to throw this.

page 17

Fig: u gotta do it - c'mon

page 18

Riz: wh– - It's like 3AM right now

Fig: oh it's not /fired/ fired it's not gonna make a loud noise

Riz: And then just? leave a pile out here?

Fig: pour water over it & it'll be gone I told u

Riz: but

page 19

Fig (off screen): RIz.

page 20

Fig: I've done all this before.

Fig: Can you trust that at least?

page 21

Riz: no, I– - I do. - I trust you.

page 23

Riz: okay what happens now

(sound effect text): glob

page 24

Fig: we do it again!

page 25

Riz: wh. [larger than usual space] What do you mean. (this clay's too wet also)

Fig: see! you're already learning

Fig: [blank speech bubble] - there are flows that are futile to fight. - The world changes.

Fig: Things change.

page 26

Fig: I've learned my lessons with "forevers". - But - as an artist

Fig: I can give you one thing: - You can always do it again.

page 27

Fig: most of everything depends on the rest of the world, - but this. - making new. - that's yours as long as you want it.

page 28

Fig: So?

page 29

Riz: Yeah. - Yeah! - let's make another one.

[tvgals]

sobs 🥹

modern! domestic! miguel! o’hara x black! fem! reader <3

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

SCENARIO NO. 1

on your chest laid you and miguel’s beautiful daughter. you laughed airily and ask miguel if he wanted to hold her, why would he say no?

“here you go, my love.” you whisper, putting your fragile daughter in miguel’s broad hands. he wants to cry. he wants to sob and kiss her all over her chubby face. her hair in tufts everywhere, she’s the perfect mix of you two. “she’s so pretty.. ella es perfecta. ya la amo.” miguel coos bringing her up to his own chest. “thank you so much, mi amor.” “of course. you deserve it, baby.”

“mi perfecta esposa e hija. todo mío.” he whispers, kissing you on your forehead, oh so proud of you for bringing this beautiful light into his once dark world. t; “my perfect wife and daughter. all mine.”

SCENARIO NO. 2

your daughter’s bright eyes look at miguel’s, almost identical. he’s on the floor, practically three feet away from your daughter, trying to coax her over to his buff stature. “vamos, mamá. puedes hacerlo.” he says, eyes wide and his hands waving her over, his daughter laughing and drooling. miguel couldn’t help but laugh too. you jog down the stairs to see a picture perfect sight — your husband trying to get your one year old daughter to walk. “hey.” you say, looking at how concentrated your husband was, saying hi back and smiling. “cmon, gabby, cmon.” he waves. she sticks her tongue out and spits, blabbering nonsense. miguel chuckles, turning the tv on to watch the basketball game between the nets and celtics. leaning back on his hands, he’s immersed into the tv almost immediately, not forgetting about you or his daughter.

“weeee!” your daughter giggles, pushing herself off of her hands, wobbling on her chubby legs. miguel looks over and his eyes widen, a smile making his way onto his features. “¡bebé bebé! ¡Ven aquí!” miguel calls you into the living room. you rush in to see your daughter wobbling her way to her father, his arms wide open. once she makes it over, miguel engulfs her in a hug, kissing her on her forehead. “¡Estoy tan orgulloso! tan orgulloso!” t: “i’m so proud! so so proud!”

SCENARIO NO. 3

you didn’t know how to break the news to miguel. would he be mad? would he leave you? no no..he would never. right? this was your thought process while you were mashing the potatoes in a pot, lauryn hill’s low hums ringing throughout the kitchen. “hola hermosa.” says your husband, hugging your around your waist. “hi baby.” you mumble, a sigh leaves your lips.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. “just thinking.” you respond. “about what? did something happen?” he inquires, pulling you closer to him. “well…yes. but nothing bad technically. maybe bad for you.” you tell your worried husband, you can feel his lips purse together. “tell me what’s wrong, te estoy suplicando.” he whines, not in a needy or helpless way, but more of a “please i need to know” way.

“i’ll tell you at the table.” you promise, putting a reassuring hand on his. he walks away and sits down in the living room, leaving you with your thoughts. almost an hour later, you announce to him the food is done, handing him his plate so he can eat. you sit down a while later after making your own plate and he looks up at you. “wanna tell me now?” he asks, putting his fork down. you take a deep breath and mutter. “impregnant.” it’s a slur of words he can’t comprehend, so he asks you; “what?” he chuckles at your nervousness.

“i’m pregnant, miguel.” you say, looking down at your food. there’s a beat of silence and you hear miguel sniff. you knew this was a bad idea. “¿en realidad?” he asks. “yes, i’m 100% serious miguel.” you promise, walking over to his side of the table. he brings you over and starts kissing your belly, tears cascading down his cheeks. “mi esposa tiene un bebe! ¡Un bebé perfecto y saludable!” he mewls, pressing his cheek to your stomach. you ruffle his hair and start crying yourself. this is the life you’ve always wanted.

[thatmooncake]

Therapy bots AU I’m making with @flinxypie where you have a lil accident at your job at the pizzaplex and early into your recovery they show up at your house to finish the job therapise you and it’s pure shenanigans and dreamscape misadventures from there onwards.

(A bit more AU info under the cut)

Sun used to work at the Fazbear theatre until it closed, then he was repurposed to work at the Superstar Daycare until it closed too. After spending a loooong time begging any human staff he could find to let him do something (anything) useful instead of just collecting dust, he was given this new job as a therapy bot - and it came with a few neat upgrades too. But of course that meant having to pretend he knew what he was doing. And of course that meant having to pretend that Fazbear Entertainment had good intentions. And of course that meant Moon was coming with him too.

Moon used to be Sun’s partner in crime at the theatre, performing onstage with him every day until one day he just …switched off and wouldn’t respond. He was always a little glitchy, and there was a reason for that. With no body to call his own, Moon took to the dreamscape, where he was used to conduct dream experiments of the soul-trapping kind in secret. Now he’s back in his body, and he’s struggling to adapt to the world around him (especially during the day), but in the dreamscape he knows all sorts of (bad) therapy concepts he can introduce you (and Sun) to, and he may find yet another willing participant to drag into dreamland with him.

Plot points that come up include:

- The time you went out for a walk and Moon buried himself under a pile of leaves because it was sunny outside and you never found out where Sun picked up that potted plant from but he showed it to you anyway because he thought it’d make you smile

- The time Sun thought he was taking you to the beach but it was actually just one of those pop up places they put in towns but at least social anxiety is slightly easier or at least more amusing when you’ve got a robot friend by your side who didn’t know it wasn’t the real beach

- The time Moon almost got you to sleep so he could take you to the land of dreams but then there was a gotdang cricket chirping in the room because bearded dragons gotta eat

- The time you went to the dreamscape and fused with Sun and Moon and having their thoughts in your head was weird

And much much more (probably)!

[lebbys-world]

I was wondering if request based of the manga base on chapters 365 -406 like you know how bakugou is currently severely injured in manga /anime instead of bakugou almost dying it’s the reader who takes all the hits blow for him when fighting shigaraki crushing reader arm and taking major brutal blow to chest to protect bakugou and since reader she cares about him aslo maybe reader quirk could be like somewhat similar to scarlet witch mcu or raven from teen titans but whichever you prefer maybe when fighting Shigaraki since reader was using her quirk to full strength potential maybe her powers it started corrupted her due over usage making Shigaraki have the upper hand i hope this makes sense can the ending have fluff and angst type fic if this ok i hope this requests is ok makes sense if uncomfortable with i can definitely change it

To Be a Hero

Bakugo x gn!reader; mentions of injury, battle, self-sacrifice, self-deprecation/insecurities, end of the war arc, angst to comfort

notes: thank you sm for the request, and thanks sm for your patience !! everything has been crazy rn for me because of college. i love bakugos character sm, especially just his development, so i hope this does him a bit of justice.

You’d never felt the world sting so harshly before.

The very air around you tore at your skin, debris scattered around, making quick lacerations. 

You’d come into this battle no more than an ambitious child, striving to save those you could.

But now?

You’d seen more blood than you’d ever thought you would.

The smell of death was burned into your very existence. 

It made you nauseous.

You just wanted this all to be over.

Yet, here you stood, center of the battlefield, watching as Shigaraki tore to pieces the life you once loved.

For the first time in years, you didn’t feel like a hero.

Your body stood frozen, watching as those around you fought with everything they had.

Why can’t I help them? You beg of yourself.

Those you love are risking their lives- losing their lives.

But your body has had enough.

Too much has poured out from every aching wound on your body.

Your head pounds, both reminding you of the physical pain and your mental inability to process the situation at hand.

Maybe you weren’t meant to be a hero, after all.

Above, an array of light drew your eyes.

You see Bakugo, battered, bloodied- the damn bastard barely even able to stand.

He’s flying through the air, putting himself straight in the middle of the action.

He was always that way.

You admired that about him- his sense of selflessness when it really mattered.

He wanted to be the best, and he sure had a chance at it.

Yet, you realize what’s happening before you even can properly see it.

He’s diving in, head-first, straight towards the same Shigaraki that killed so many of the Pro-Heros. 

He may want to be the best, but he isn't the best yet.

That same selflessness you loved was the selflessness that was going to get him killed.

He wasn’t going to land the shot. 

You lurched off the ground, your feet moving without you even telling them to.

You positioned yourself perfectly, feeling the impact hit you like a warm embrace.

You smile to yourself:

Now, they’ve got another chance.

The world spun for a moment, as your hearing dulled. 

That crash onto the ground must’ve really taken a toll on you.

Either that, or, maybe the gaping hole in your chest.

You gaze into the blurry sky, letting the gray clouds turn black in your vision.

From a distance, you think you can hear a familiar voice screaming your name.

The world goes away before you put a name to that familiarity.

. . .

You awake to the sound of patterned beeps, the scent of sterilizing products hitting your nose quickly after.

As you open your eyes, the bright, fluorescent light forces you to close them again, hesitantly getting yourself out of your slumber. 

The rustling of your sheets alerted the blonde sitting in the chair beside you, urging him to get up at once.

He looked at you gently, as though you were more fragile than glass.

The guilt he felt practically ran through him.

Why did you step in like that, Y/N.

They barely kept you alive on the battlefield.

And every surgery you’d had kept him on edge.

He’d lost so much, already.

He couldn’t lose you, too.

You opened your eyes enough to glance at the face in front of you, mumbling the familiar name:

“...Katsuki?”

“Oi, looks like someone’s finally awake.” 

His usual demeanor seemed softer, almost as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“..where are we?”

“-hospital. You’ve been in here since you pulled that stupid stunt of yours.”

You looked at him silently, processing the fact that you even made it out of that alive.

Last you recall, the world had fallen dark.

You’d really accepted dying in that moment.

Yet, God had other plans it seems, since here you were, alive and, mostly, well.

You couldn’t quite believe it, but seeing the boy in front of you, you were grateful.

“Snap out of it” Bakugo hissed at you, rolling his eyes. 

He thought to himself for a moment, before putting his head in his hands.

“Damn it, Y/N, don’t do that ever again.”

“...do what?” You respond, still in a daze.

"..."

“Trying to get yourself killed like that.” 

You looked at him, as you took in his words,

“Don't step in the way for me, you idiot. It might get ya hurt, or worse, don’tcha see?”

“I didn’t try to.” You explained, slightly shifting in your hospital bed to fully face him.

His demeanor had changed from his usual self, and was instead filled with disdain. 

He’d be tearing himself apart over this - that much, you figured.

“My feet ‘moved on their own’” you smiled, repeating the words so often uttered around class.

He scoffed, shaking his head, before putting your hand in his. 

He smiled at you wholly, 

“I guess that makes you a real hero then, huh?”

"..."

“I guess so.”

all fictional works are for entertainment purposes only. all rights to characters, media, references, and other third party materials belong to their respective owners. do not repurpose, modify, copy, or repost my work to other sites without permission. © @lebbys-world 2024.

banners from saradika-graphics

[rambunctioustoons]

"It's funny. Laugh."

[artzybumpkin]

I Need Your Help...

CW/ mpreg, language, slight angst (people saying harsh things to/about each other that they don’t really mean because they’re hurt and are stupid dumb idiots that are bad at communicating🥺💔)

Pt. 2

"Here we go," F0rd finally said after sifting through one of the cupboards in the small kitchen and pulling out a can. He chucked it St@n's way, the latter reflexively catching it like he'd been tossed a baseball. "I could warm it up if you'd rather, but it'll take the stove a bit to heat up."

St@nley turned the can in his fingers as he studied the label. Baron NumNums High Flyin’ Pork 'n Beans. 'Not exactly kosher, S1xer,' he almost joked aloud, but kept his mouth shut. It's not something that mattered to himself, anyway. Not anymore.

"Nah, it's fine like it is." he assured as he pulled out a pocket knife. He could practically feel the curious look his brother was giving him as he dug the blade into the lid of the can, making quick work of popping it open and eagerly dipping the spoon he'd been given into it's contents.

Though he wouldn't outright admit it... he was absolutely FAMISHED. So much so he basically shuddered in delight at the mere taste as he popped the first bite into his mouth. 'Finally, something NOT terrible for once!' he thought euphorically. It was by no means a spectacular meal, but to an empty stomach it was manna from heaven.

As he slowly came down from his dopamine high, he noticed F0rd still fumbling through the other cabinets like he had a bad case of tunnel vision. As he studied him, it was only now that St@nley got the chance to really see the scrawny and disheveled state his brother was in. How sluggish his movements were. How pale and gaunt his face was. And his hands… What was the cause for how beaten up they were?... The man looked like he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks.

‘That’s… not a good sign..,’ St@nley thought, the already existing concern amplified tenfold the longer he looked at him. He cleared his throat awkwardly in an attempt to get his attention. "Hey, uh... why dontcha sit down with me, eh? Get some food in ya? Tell me what's goin' on? I don't mean to be so frank but... You look like hell, Stanf0rd."

"Ah... later," he mused, still distracted by whatever he was searching for. In the midst of his search, his fingers grazed the forming bruise on the left side of his jaw. He opened and closed his mouth experimentally, feeling out the source of a dull yet stubborn pang in his mouth. "I think you broke one of my molars."

"… Right... yeah," St@n chuckled dryly, "uh... sorry 'bout that, by the way..."

"Besides, you're one to talk," he barked, glazing right over St@n's curt apology, "You're not exactly a sight to behold yourself, you know. AND you've currently got a stowaway to worry about." He closed the cupboard door and turned to go to the next room. "Stay here, I'll be back."

St@nley rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day. "Bettin' on it…" As soon as F0rd disappeared around the corner, he shot a look to the far end of the table, where the journal lay, and scowled. There were still so many questions he had yet to be answered. He just had to figure out how to get his brother to talk.

For a few minutes F0rd could faintly be heard rummaging through a few drawers, all the while muttering a short 'Now where is the damn thing?..,’ and ‘I swear it was here last time..,’ before he finally let out a mildly triumphant 'Aha!'

When he returned to the kitchen, he'd brought with him a small, worn briefcase (what was, upon setting it onto the table and flipping it open, revealed to be a decently stocked yet obviously thrown-together first aid kit). "Okay, pull up your shirt. Let me see your shoulder."

Letting out a small exasperated breath, St@n carefully (being VERY mindful of how he moved his sore shoulder) wriggled out of his jacket and pulled the back of his shirt up over his shoulders, bunching it up around his neck.

F0rd went to wash his hands, then stepped around and behind his brother to better assess the damage. He winced empathetically as he looked it over.

The burn took up the entirety of his shoulder blade, nearly touching the center of his back. It had to be at least 2nd if not 3rd degree, as the skin was already starting to tighten around the edges of the mark that was left... angry… inflamed... Even worse, though, was the unconventional shape of what was most definitely going to become a scar later.

And yet another reminder of how far they'd grown apart...

His brother had basically been branded with an alchemic sigil.

Because of him, there was now a permanent reminder of their earlier fight...

"How bad is it?" St@n's question rang, pulling F0rd from his thoughts.

"Hmm... well... it's, uh..."

"Gonna leave a mark?"

"No doubt about it." He took a moment to grab a washcloth and soaked one of it's corners in soapy water. "I'm gonna have to clean it so it doesn't get infected. It's not gonna feel great, but just-"

"Save the explanation, brainiac," St@n interrupted, mouth full from the latest spoonful of beans. "I’ve been through this song and dance before. Do what you have to, I can deal. Just hurry it up, would ya? It's cold in here."

Now it was F0rd's turn to roll his eyes. And despite himself, a slight smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. 'As brawny and bullheaded as ever, St@nley..,’ he thought amusedly as he began lightly dabbing at the wound. He’d reached the center of the mark where the burn was at its worst when the small sound of his brother hissing through his teeth made him pause. "St@n..?"

"It's fine... don't sweat it..."

Guilt ate at him, at the prospect of causing his brother any more physical pain than he had already, but he continued cleaning as gently as he could. It simply had to be done.

Once he was satisfied he'd properly disinfected the area, F0rd reached back into the kit, pulled out the bacitracin, and applied it generously to the surface of the burn before topping it off with a sterile pad. It was a very basic mend, he figured, but it would have to do. It was only as he continued working that he realized they'd suddenly fallen quiet again. And while the silence wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, there was still a level of tension that couldn’t be entirely ignored.

As he went to unroll a bundle of gauze, his eyes unintentionally bounced towards St@nley's belly. Judging by the sheer size of it, as it occupied most of the space in his lap, it was obvious he had to be nearing full term... a thought that greatly unsettled his nerves the more he lingered on it… Nevertheless, he decided to pry.

"So, um... When did you find out?"

"’Find out?’"

"About your... situation." he clumsily clarified while he wrapped the gauze around St@n’s shoulder and across his back and chest.

St@nley made a small sound of acknowledgement, drumming his fingers on the surface of the table as he carefully decided his wording. After a moment of thought, a deep sigh dragged itself from his chest. He set his now empty can down and then cradled his chin with his palm as he leaned onto the table on his elbow. "I think... about the first week of September."

“OH…” Only 4 months ago?? “Oh wow, so you were already a ways along then…”

“Yup. I'd been feeling... y’know... off for a while before that, but I just figured I’d caught some crazy flu bug or something during a, uh..,” St@n hesitated, reevaluating, “… freelance job. Was sick as shit for WEEKS. I couldn't keep anything down, didn't have the energy to even keep myself upright...” He grimaced. “God, it was awful, Ford… I swore I felt like I could’ve keeled over at the drop of a hat… And then when I finally, FINALLY thought I'd gotten past it, I started feeling... weird."

F0rd tore off a couple strips of medical tape to secure the wrapping. "Weird?..," he repeated.

"Well... it was hard to place the words at the time, but the best way I could describe it was that it kinda felt like my insides were rearranging themselves. It spooked me enough to seek out a back alley physician, anyway.”

It took everything in him for F0rd to hold his tongue at that revelation, but he stayed silent as his brother explained.

“Didn't have high hopes for an accurate diagnosis, but... Well, how hard would a basic check up be?? Worst case scenario I either got an answer or I didn’t. Not to mention he was dirt cheap. Beggars can't be choosers…” He made an ironically amused sound, “So imagine my surprise when the doc told me I was roughly 18 weeks..."

“I… imagine that news wasn’t exactly anticipated…”

St@nley shook his head lightly. "Needless to say, I called the guy a quack and left. I didn’t want to believe it at first... I couldn’t… Hell, it’s not like I even showed that much. I mean, I’ve always had some heft to my person, so a little extra gut didn’t make me question anything… But considering everything that lead up to then… it all sorta lined up... Then wouldn't ya know it, a handful of positive corner store pregnancy tests later… turned out the fucker was right."

F0rd finished checking over the bandaging before finally pulling out a chair to sit across from his brother, folding his arms over the table (atop the journal, St@nley noted, still somewhat guarded in manner). His eyes, though exhausted and bothered, remained inquisitive. “So, then… that sensation you were talking about?.. Was that..?”

"Oh… yeah,” St@n lightly chuckled, giving the side of his belly a gentle pat, “that was just junior here figuring out they have legs… and they have NOT let me forget it, either." The small smile on his face faltered. "But, uh... yeah… I've been trying to keep track of the weeks ever since..."

F0rd hummed his acknowledgement, nodding lightly as he processed the information he'd just been given. Then another question, though it was more of an observation in the form of a question. "You've been going about this alone, haven’t you?…"

St@nley lulled his head to the side, his tired expression wordlessly yet clearly asking, 'What's it look like, genius?..’

He pointedly left it at that. Then F0rd’s face fell as another revelation came to mind. "Wait.... You've not been to a doctor SINCE?? It's January, St@nley! That means..." He paused, brows furrowing as he only now took the time to do the math. "Oh my God, you're-"

“‘About to pop,’" St@n finished as he pulled his shirt back down over his torso (a task easier said than done). "Yes, I'm WELL aware of that notion, poindexter. Glad we’re clear on that."

“But what if something happened? What if something went wrong?? You could’ve been seriously hurt, you knucklehead!” F0rd scolded, gesturing vaguely in his brother’s direction. “Or WORSE!!”

"Don’t you think I KNOW that??!" St@n sighed, trying to reign in the sudden burst of frustration. "Look, I... I've not exactly had the luxury of having prenatal care at my disposal, alright?.. I went to a friggin' doc in a box ONE other time for anemia and it took about every penny I had to my name. Believe me, had the option been available to me, I would've made a point to go in a heartbeat… but if I expected to make ends meet on a day to day basis..,” he hung his head lower, eyeing the floor, “… there was just no way..."

F0rd let out a tense breath. "I'm just saying... It's not a good idea to let a pregnancy go unchecked for so long. And then coming all the way out here was dangerous... Who knows who or what you could've run into on the way??"

"Eh... it's arguably safer than where I was before... In fact, if I'm being completely honest, this trip might've just saved my life..." he admitted, his free hand absentmindedly cradling the underside of his belly, "or at least bought me some time..."

"What's that supposed to mean??"

St@n debated over whether or not he should open that can of worms... so he decided he'd keep it brief. "Let's just say I was half expecting to get my head caved in any day now, had I decided to stick around Dead End..." He cast a glance that suggested the subject be dropped.

F0rd's eyes briefly widened in unease. He then pressed them shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Dear God, St@nley..," he sighed. He didn’t even have it in him right then to ask for any further elaboration.

The room was quiet during their intermission, as they gave themselves time to debrief.

Then, allowing himself an intentionally long, drawn out breath, St@nley leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Alright, your turn."

"Hm?" F0rd looked back up warily.

"I gave you my sob story, let's hear yours!"

"'Sob story?'” his tone took an air of offense to it, “I’ll have you know this is a very serious matter!"

“So I've heard…”

F0rd scowled at the blatant sarcasm. “I mean it, St@nley! This is something so much bigger than you or I! It could mean the end of effectively everything as we know it!”

"Okay then, ENLIGHTEN me! It's what I've been trying to get you to do this whole friggin’ time! Just tell me what’s going on, without all the cryptic bullshit! Why did you need me to come here just to send me away again, Stanf0rd?" He quickly reached for and snatched the journal out from under his brother's arms, waving it carelessly in front of him. "And what's so damn important about this book that you need it gone but not destroyed?? If it's SO dangerous, why not just shred the thing??" He punctuated his short tangent by dropping the leatherback loudly in the center of the table, the booming sound making his brother flinch.

"I already told you!" F0rd said as he picked it back up with both hands, "The information recorded in these journals is much too valuable to destroy. However, to ensure it stays out of the wrong hands, it must be taken away from here... it could be disastrous if that happens... And the only other person that I could have entrusted to take it flat out refuses to speak to me!..," his gaze landed on the journal he held, his reflection stared back from the emblem in the center. "... You were my last resort... The last hope I have of ever fixing the mess I've caused..." He looked back up to his brother. "And that's why it's of the utmost importance to take this thing FAR away from here as SOON as humanly possible!"

"Mm-hm..." St@n ran his hands along the length of his face. “Yeah, see, I just don’t understand what good squirreling this thing away in some hole on the other side of the planet is gonna do. 'Bury it where no one can find it??' I could just chuck this thing over a mountainside in the Rockies and it'd be dealt with!" He readjusted himself in his seat, straightening up. "But more importantly, what I'd like to know is who these 'wrong hands' are referring to. The mob? The government?? Are you saying someone's got a hit on you??"

Stanf0rd groaned, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "You don't get it, St@nley..."

‘When do I ever?..,’ he thought bitterly, his patience growing ever thinner the longer he prodded. He swore he could get more answers out of a goddamn brick wall.

"It HAS to be taken far enough away that it can't be stumbled upon by just any passersby. And if I were to go hide it myself, I'd be wasting valuable time that I need to prepare for what's coming! I have to make it out to the ruins before the snowfall covers the only entrance to the caves! And if I don't go IMMEDIATELY, there might not be another chance to do anything before..,” might as well not beat around the bush any longer, “he brings forth complete and utter chaos!"

At that, there was a beat… then St@nley made a tired noise, rubbing his temples. “Okay… alright… cool…” His head was beginning to hurt now. "Juuuust leave it to ol' S1xer to make the explanation confusing-"

“Do NOT call me by that name!!” came a sudden, visceral interjection, making St@n nearly jump out of his skin.

All the energy in the room came to a screeching halt.

Breathing heavily for a minute, and seeing the startled confusion etched into his brother’s face, F0rd realized he'd lashed out and visibly shrunk in his seat. "I... sorry, it's not... that wasn’t… y-you didn't know, I... Gosh, I'm sorry..." he babbled, avoiding eye contact, "I don't know what came over me..." The shame he felt was unbearable… To think he let himself get so worked up over something so silly as a nickname… all because of-…

It was only when the sound of his brother gently rapping on the table, to get his attention, registered that he dared look back up to face him.

As he leaned forward on the table, arms folded tightly underneath him, St@nley's demeanor had shifted… no trace of sarcasm left to be seen. "Who did this to you, F0rd?..." There was an intensity in his voice that was equal parts steadying and intimidating, his eyes meeting his brother's and locking. Though it obviously wasn't directed at himself, F0rd could swear there was a murderous glint in that gaze... “Who's threatening you?... Who scared you so badly that you're taking these drastic measures??..."

"I..." F0rd suddenly felt so transparent, like he was being read like a book… Somehow St@nley had managed to just about hit the nail on the head… He covered his face, beginning to feel overwhelmed. There was so much he wanted to explain in full... but could he without endangering either his brother or himself?? Or rather, could he explain himself without sounding like a total madman??

“Who used that name and tarnished it, Stanf0rd??…”

“I-I..,” he stuttered, breaking, "I can't... Th-There's simply no way for me to explain everything for you to understand!"

"Then HELP me to understand!” St@nley pleaded, at his wits’ end. It hurt him so badly to see his brother so utterly tormented with no way for him to get through to or comfort him. He HAD to get through to him… somehow! “HELP me! I’m really, really, REALLY tryin’ here, F0rd, but you're not giving me anything to work off of! I sound like a fucking broken record saying this shit! I care about you, you dumbass, I’m your BROTHER! So you can't keep leaving me in the dark! You have to trust me! Please just trust me, Stanf0rd!"

Trust me...

Those two little words that he’d heard time and time again… those two words that, to him, had lost every ounce of sincerity due to the sheer amount they’d been used and squandered by so very many people in his life… Hearing those two words suddenly agitated F0rd to no end.

He looked his brother in the face and scoffed, "OH, no! NO!! YOU, of all people, don't get to go preaching to ME about TRUST, Mr. 'Buy my products, they won't do you wrong! I'm just your humble, neighborhood salesman who ISN’T a shyster whatsoever! Did I tell you to buy my products yet??’”

The deer-in-the-headlights look St@n gave him only managed to light a fire under him as he desperately took the chance to redirect the attention away from himself.

"Yeah, that’s right, St@nley! Or should I refer to you by one of your ridiculous aliases like 'P@nley St1ne's??' … 'P@NLEY,' St@nley?! You couldn't come up with anything better than that?!" He shook his head, getting sidetracked, "My point is, I've seen what you've been up to over the years! In fact there's been no way to avoid seeing it! I've seen the ads in the papers! The commercials! The... 'products,' if you could even call them that! I've SEEN how you've scammed people! How you’ve LIED to people! Hell, if I didn't just see your bare belly l'd have half a mind to assume you stuffed a damn pillow up your shirt in a shoddy attempt to fool me!"

St@nley stared at him in disbelief, mouth slightly agape. The rest of what his brother said hurt well enough, but that last part?? "What in the-... Where on EARTH did you get that idea, Stanf0rd?? Do you you realize how completely DEMEANING that accusation is?? What could I possibly hope to gain?? Faking THIS??" he exclaimed, aggressively gesturing to himself with his hands bracketing his burgeoning middle.

"I don't know, SYMPATHY?? Some twisted method of MANIPULATION?? Seems like something a con-man such as yourself wouldn't think twice about exploiting!"

St@n reeled back as though he'd been struck. That one got him. "... Is that really what you think of me??..,” came an uncharacteristically quiet tone, "Do you really think I'd try and pull a fast one on you in your time of need??..."

As much as he hated himself for it, as much as F0rd KNEW he shouldn’t say it, the instinctive desire to get the last word in overruled whatever rational response he should have spouted… and a venomous response slipped out before he could stop himself. “... Frankly, I wouldn't put it past you..."

St@nley stared down at the floor for several moments, processing everything that had just been laid out before him. To think his own brother thought so little of him... Sure, what he'd said was vaguely in line with the truth, regarding his grifting record. Conning strangers for his own benefit was one thing, albeit not a great thing and certainly not something he was proud of, but it was something he simply had to resort to to make ANY kind of basic living… To trick his family though?... his own BROTHER?? To suggest he'd even go so far as to fake a pregnancy of all things just to tug at his heartstrings... that was a low even he didn't think he could bring himself to sink to.

In that moment, it was made clear to him; After everything he suffered for, everything he tried in vain to atone for, and after over a DECADE of radio silence... his brother still held to that idea that he was this selfish, deceitful, untrustworthy monster...

The regret was immediate as soon as the words left Stanf0rd’s lips. Why’d he have to go and say that? With stakes as high as they were, for more reasons than one, stirring the pot was the last thing he needed to do and yet… "I... St@nley, I... I-I didn't mean-…"

After a minute of brooding, St@n scooped his jacket off the floor, snaking his arms back through it's sleeves as he finally stood up from his chair. "Y'know what? That's it. I don’t care anymore. I'm done."

“'Done??' What do you mean 'DONE??'” His eyes keenly followed him as he passed by. "St@nley, where are you going?"

"What’s it to you? It’s not like you actually wanted me here. After all, I was your last resort, right?” his voice was monotone as he made his way to the front door… empty… hurt… “As always, Stanf0rd Filbr1ck P1nes, you were right. I shouldn’t ‘ve come… I shouldn’t ‘ve bothered…”

Stanf0rd immediately got up and grasped the fabric of St@n’s sleeve, holding him in place. “Now hang on a minute, would you please just listen to me for a second??”

Try as he had to keep the rage bottled up, that was the last straw. “Yeah, sure... Or how 'bout this?” Smacking the hand off his jacket sleeve, St@nley turned on his heel, scornfully wagging his pointer finger in his brother's face, prompting the latter to back up a step. “You listen here, and you listen GOOD, smartass! I don't need you lecturing me, REMINDING me of how shitty a person I am! I KNOW I'M A SCREW UP, STANF0RD! I KNOW that!! Preaching to the freakin' choir on that front!" He looked down at himself and laughed a humorless laugh. "I mean hell, just LOOK at me! I'm knocked up with some bastard-not-worth-the-air-he-breathes' bastard! All with no place to call home! That's fuck up incarnate, amirite??"

F0rd began to respond but was abruptly cut off.

“And here’s another thing you were right about; the WHOLE-ASS drive up here and how much it absolutely SUCKED! Over thirteen-fucking-HUNDRED miles on the road is no place to be when you’re essentially a walking, talking time bomb! The whole drive, the whole drive, I've had this crippling, nagging fear at the back of my brain telling me I’d likely end up hopelessly lost! Or, better YET, reminding me of the possibility that I’d might have to pull over at some point and spit this kid out on the side of the road without any help! Do you know how terrifying that thought was, F0rd?? When you’re trying to navigate those insanely long back roads nobody knows about, all on your own?? And all for the sake of showing up when your brother asked for you to, because you foolishly thought he actually NEEDED you?? OF COURSE YOU DON’T!! Cuz that WASN'T you, that wasn't YOUR problem, and thus it doesn’t MATTER!! The world revolves around YOU, and anyone else's issues can go ahead and take a back seat for all you care, isn’t that right??"

“St@nley, stop it! You’re becoming hysterical!” F0rd attempted to reason, wanting desperately to diffuse the situation… Needless to say, it was fruitless…

“NO!! Because you wanna know what else?? NEWSFLASH, brother, YOU'RE not perfect either! You act like you're ‘God's gift to the populace’ or something when you're NOT! It's not like you ever bothered to help ME out when I needed somebody! I’ve only ever had myself for the better part of 10 years, so it would’ve been nice for you to, I dunno, check in once or twice! Or at least a throw out some bullshit 'Hey, bro! Hope you're alive and doing alright! I can't talk or meet with you right now, and frankly I probably don't WANT to, but I hope you know l've not forgotten about you and that somewhere deep down I still love you! Take care, St@nley!' for some semblance of caring! Just SOMETHING!! Some acknowledgment that I EXIST!! That-That I’m not just a-a-a STAIN left behind!! So WHY?? Why did I care?? Why did I think-..?!" He froze when his voice suddenly cracked, cutting him off before he could continue.

Now noticing how hazy his vision had become, how shaky his hands were, he was horrified to realize that he'd burst into tears partway through his rant. All the repressed emotions were starting to show face... 'Humiliated' couldn't even BEGIN to cover how he felt right then... And when he finally studied the expression F0rd currently wore, he felt like he might vomit.

That all too familiar look of pure, unadulterated… pity… The physical embodiment of ‘Oh you poor, pathetic thing...’

St@nley DESPISED that look… It’d been one he’d received countless, countless times in his life. And while he knew that more often than not the intent behind that expression was never truly out of ill meaning, the immense degradation it brought him was suffocating. He couldn’t bear to see it another second… especially coming from his own flesh and blood. He squeezed his eyes shut to escape it.

F0rd, meanwhile, was at a complete loss for words. What could he say? What should he say?? How could he explain the sheer magnitude of what’s been going on that didn’t sound like the utter ramblings of a man who’s lost his mind?? How could he convince St@nley to put aside their personal issues for a second and help aid him in fixing this mess?? Important things needed attending to!! This was a matter of the fate of the WORLD, dammit!! The livelihood of effectively EVERYONE!!

But then… his brother’s points made him reflect… What of his brother’s woes?… St@nley’s woes??... The woes of the person who, at one point in time, meant MORE to him than the world itself??… Did they not matter in the grander scheme?? The hardships St@nley had gone through completely alone, left unbeknownst to him just because he… couldn't bring himself to reach out and see how his brother was actually doing?.. Simply because he couldn't bear the thought of truly knowing how rough he had it in life while they were apart?..

Assuming St@nley was just wandering aimlessly around all this time, without a care or ounce of respect for anyone in the world, made ignoring those painful thoughts so much easier... Knowing what he did now, he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

For so long, Stanf0rd had spent every waking hour pouring over his research, dragging himself along through countless sleepless nights, pushing anyone and everyone away... out of his mind... out of his heart... all to combat an omniscient evil he still frustratingly… didn’t quite understand yet, himself... His work had completely and utterly consumed him. He’d lost sight of what few allies he had… He'd lost sight of his family… And loathe as he was to admit it, perhaps in this mission to ‘save humanity,’ he actually lost sight of his own…

As he concluded his thought, one thing was made painfully clear… Somehow, one way or another, both his brother and himself had each come to face some form of isolation…

They really were two sides of the same coin...

Taking a moment to steel himself again, St@n pressed the heel of his hand against one eye and then the other, wiping away the tears that managed to run down his cheeks. "I should've known better than to think I could ever be of any help to you... of any value to you... So I’ll do you the courtesy of getting the hell outta your hair. For good this time.”

“St@nley…”

“Can it!” St@nley swiftly snatched the duffle bag off the floor and turned to grab the doorknob, then called out over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, one last thing! Thank you EVER so much for the new 'tattoo!' What better souvenir to remember your estranged brother by than one that's been burned directly into your skin, eh? Your hospitality is truly unmatched, Stanf0rd. TRULY." He re-zipped his jacket and yanked the door open. "See ya never, fuck head," he spat before he slammed the door behind him.

"Hey! HEY!! St@nley, WAIT!!" F0rd followed close behind, storming his way to the door and ripping it back open about as quickly as it was shut. "Damnit St@nley, would you just hold on a second and hear me out-AH!.," he gasped, flinching when he'd almost ran into his brother from behind.

St@n had stopped short on the porch, motionless.

Huffing, he sternly maneuvered around to the right of his brother to face him from the side. “Please, think rationally! You know as well as I do that you have no business running around in the condition you’re in! Look, I get that you’re upset, alright?? I’m sorry! I really am! But you can’t just skip off and..,” he trailed off when he realized St@n was staring straight ahead over the front yard, the look on his face unreadable. He tentatively followed the trajectory of his line of sight, only to freeze in place himself. “… leave…”

Their wide eyed expressions mirrored each other’s, standing parallel as they both gazed at the sight before them.

Snow had piled up by several feet. MUCH higher than it had been earlier . Within just a few hours it had gone from knee height to probably high enough to halfway submerge a person. In the distance, only the rough shape of El Diablo was visible, having a thick cocoon of snow encompassing the body of the vehicle.

And the snow just KEPT coming.

There was no getting out in that…

St@n groaned defeatedly, burying his face in his hands. “Whatever higher power has it out for me can kindly kiss my ass…”

TBC

[naffeclipse]

There's a question. If Y/N was already an orca siren and Eclipse came across them, how much of a disconnect would there be presuming Y/N was part of a healthy pod and Eclipse lived alone?

An orca siren Y/N would quickly gather that Eclipse has not been raised with a pod because he lacks significant proper socialization that is taught from living with others. You would take great pity on him and immediately invite him to yours. It's rather small but you're sure Vanessa and Michael wouldn't mind (they very much do).

Eclipse doesn't want to join Y/N's pod, he wants to make his own. He coaxes you into coming with him and immediately begins trying to court you but you rebuff his attempts to take you away. He's very aggressive and possessive which you think is a very terrible coping mechanism due to his isolation. You really want to help him because no orca siren should be alone! That goes against their nature! It's not healthy and it's not safe!

It amazes you that he is still alone considering that Eclipse is rather striking and impressive. You will allow him to court you since you find him attractive, but you firmly set boundaries with Eclipse. He can't grab you out of nowhere. He can't demand you go somewhere with him. He can't intimidate you or else you will swim away from him and make him wait until tomorrow to see you again. It stings Eclipse's pride to hear 'no' over and over, and he grows fearful that you're going to leave when you keep telling him that he's not being nice, but it does spur him to become mindful and aware of your comforts and wants and needs. It's slow progress, but you start to see the beautiful side of Eclipse where he brings you food. He takes you to a lovely place to watch the stars and when he sings, your heart aches. He listens when you speak.

He's sweet. And Michael and Vanessa thought the feral siren was going to eat you.

[skelecentral]

what if Y/N could see Dust San's Papyrus & like ghosts & spirit's in general

They’re gossip buddies 🥰

When Papyrus finds out that you can see him, he’s elated to finally have someone new to talk to - don’t get him wrong, he loves his brother! But his interactions with Dust have been his only interactions for years at this point, so having someone new to dialogue with is like finding water in a desert. A very sock-filled, dusty desert. He wants to talk about anything and everything, desperate for any form of contact, and as a result he’ll probably come off as a bit intense at first; he evens out a little as time goes on and he settles into the new norm, though. He’s glad he can talk to you about what he’s experienced and all of the batshit things he’s seen as a spectator - gossip buddies!

He also likes to give you advice, especially related to his brother. He thinks you’re good for him, and knows he likes you, but he worries about what Dust will be like as a partner. He understands completely how unstable Dust is and doesn’t want you getting caught in a bad situation or some sort of crossfire, both because he’s desperate for company and because of his integrity and value system.

In the end, he decides that the best course of action is to help his brother become an Acceptable Datemate and to be there for you if you need any help or advice or encouragement relating to his brother (or anything else, really - he prides himself on being the best friend anyone could ask for, and what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t help you in your time of need even if it didn’t have to do with his plans? It’s all he’s good for at this point, anyways - it’s not like he could make any other sort of difference…but nevermind that! Moping won’t help anyone!)

I’d say that in the end, most Y/Ns would end up being pretty good friends with Papyrus - especially if they were living in Nightmare’s castle for any reason, but also just in general. Dust is silently happy Papyrus is happy, and finds a lot of joy in that you two get along - despite their damaged relationship, the brothers still care for each other deeply, and that comes out in a lot of their actions. I could see Y/N being really good for their relationship as well and perhaps even acting as a catalyst for healing it :)

[strummingmyheart]

headcanon that after tims run as RR his friends (had core 4, steph, bernard, ives n cass in mind) started comparing his emotional competence to bruce's to the point he started going to therapy out of spite. he goes to dinah for vigilante stuff and a civilian therapist for stuff like his parents, his mental issues, and getting good ways 2 cope.

[metiredlr]

WE SO WELL FED. WE EATING SO GOOD. SO FUCKING GOOD 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 BREAK TRIO SO IN LOVE 😭🙏🏽🙏🏽 LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO TEAM ☝🏽☝🏽☝🏽🏳️‍🌈☝🏽🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈☝🏽☝🏽🗣️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈☝🏽‼️🗣️‼️‼️🗣️☝🏽☝🏽🗣️🏳️‍🌈☝🏽🗣️☝🏽‼️

[sluckythewizard]

these are A BIT OLD but uhhh here check out these aggio doodles i did forever ago. still VERY happy w my colors :3

[reysasoup]

Silly N doodles ✨️

[tvgals]

RYTHM AND BLUES

modern domestic! miguel o’hara x black! reader 🫶🏾

a/n - i have NOT watched the movie lol

probs ooc but it’s ok

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

SCENARIO NO. 1

you wake up to the smell of eggs and bacon. a smile appears on your face. you know it’s your husband by the way he’s humming his favorite novela tune in his deep and oh so attractive voice. you slide your legs off the bed and stretch, sliding your feet into your slippers. you stand up and walk down the steps, also hearing the sweet giggles of you two’s sweet chubby cheeked daughter. “i can hear mami coming down the stairs!” miguel whispers to his daughter, shuffling somewhere downstairs. you make your way in the kitchen to see..no one?

“boo!” babbles your daughter, giggling as hard as she can. “ahh!” you fake scream, grabbing your daughter and blowing raspberries into her cheeks. “good morning, handsome.” you say to miguel, kissing his cheek. “good morning, hermosa.” he says right back, walking to the stove to pour the pancake batter onto the skillet. “smells good.” you compliment, putting your daughter in her high chair.

“thank you, cariño.” you sit down yourself and scroll through your instagram, liking photos here and then.

“all done. come eat.” you stand up and make a plate for you and your daughter, setting it on her high chair tray, kissing her on her forehead. “thank you, love.”

“anything for you.”

SCENARIO NO. 2

it’s just you and miguel in the kitchen dancing, your head on his chest and you two’s daughter at your mothers house. “you’re so beautiful.” miguel says, tilting your head up to face his beautiful deep brown eyes. “i can say the same about you…” you grin, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him on his plump lips.

“you’re so perfect. you gave me a beautiful daughter, a beautiful home, and a perfect you. you’re my world, amor.” he says, tears seem to well in his eyes. “are you about to cry?” you give a half chuckle, feeling as if you’re about to cry yourself.

“i know i know it’s just…i love you so much..how can i not cry when you’re so…perfect to me?” miguel picks you up and put you on the counter, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “i love you too. you’re so good to me. i’m glad to have you as my husband.” and with that, you two share a deep and meaningful kiss.

SCENARIO NO. 3

smut ahead (i couldnt resist)

you pant and moan as your husband laps at your cunt.

“shit..mig’ ,baby, slow down!” you groan, pulling his head deeper into your cunt. you can feel him pull away and you arch your back in neediness.

“dammit….so perfect.” miguel and you both perk up at the sounds of…crying. dammit. “i’ll go get her.” you say, rolling off of the bed and walk to the white and red framed nursery. “hey baby..” you coo to your daughter, putting her onto your chest. you can hear miguel walking into the nursery with you two, engulfing you two with his big and broad arms. “my two babies.” you smile, seeing your daughters loose curls splayed out everywhere.

“thank you miguel.”

“for what?” he asks, pressing kisses to your neck.

“for being a great dad.” you say, leaning your head back and kissing his cheek.

[numy-numnum]

I think Cortex and N. Tropy are divorcees who still booty call each other from time to time