#shit its 3 am

[rapharoon]

💜Goodnight, my Sunshine🧡

A Majority of you asked for it, so here it is! (I have never written a oneshot)

Warning: ALL FLUFF! I think, im not good at naming like, lemon, fluff, whatever- but I can say there is NO NSFW. NEVER.

Word Count: 814

It was nighttime, the stars and the moon shining brightly above the Smiling critters neighborhood. Catnap was sitting peacefully in his room, getting ready to go to bed that night.

He took a deep breath and took one last look out the window. Looking out to the houses of his friends. Some if which he had helped to fall asleep. (Wether they wanted to or not) As his eyes scanned the houses, he spotted something odd.

'Is that..?' Catnap's thought trailed off as his sight landed on a certain house. Dogday's dog house. He could see a light from his room. Catnap blinked, wondering if he was just seeing things. He could've sworn Dogday was long asleep by now. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

The light was still there. Catnap sighed, 'oh Dogday..' He got up, stretching as he made his way out of the comfort of his room, and out of his home.

As he walked, Catnap wondered about why Dogday was up now, wondering if maybe something was wrong.. Did he have a nightmare? Catnap held his tail, hoping it wasn't anything serious. As catnap made it to the door, he hesitated slightly before knocking...

There was no sign of a response for a moment. As Catnap reached to knock again, the doorknob turned and the door made a creaking noise as it slowly opened. And peaking behind the door, was Dogday of course!

Once Dogday's eyes landed on Catnap, he gasped and smiled brightly. "OH! Catnap! Phew- It's just you!" He chuckled slightly as he opened the door fully, relieved to see the very confused Catnap.

Catnap stared at the dog for a moment, before signing, "Is that.. why are you wearing a pot on your head??" Dogday blinked, nervously laughing as he took it off quickly. "Oh! Uh, well- Haha- I don't know how that got there hahaha!-" Dogday started shuffling backwards to make room for Catnap to come in. As the cat did, his eyes averted to something.

"Does that include the pan your holding too or.." Catnap signed with a raised eyebrow. Dogday looked over at the pan he was indeed holding behind his back. Then, looked back at Catnap, giving him a small nervous smiled as he shrugged. Catnap sighed, "Come on, what's wrong day?" Catnap put his hand on Dogday's shoulder softly, concerned.

Dogday blinked, sighing as he put down the pot and pan. "Okay, you got me.." He scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. "I uh.. I watched a horror movie with Kickin and now I can't sleep." Catnap tilted his head. "..That's it?" He watched as Dogday's face went red from embarrassment. "It was really scary! And now every little noise keeps me awake!-" He grabbed his ears and pulled them in front of his face.

Catnap frowned slightly, he didn't like seeing Dogday so scared. He softly put a hand on his shoulder, patting it. Dogday peaked a little, and saw Catnap putting on a comforting smile. Catnap held his other arm out. Dogday stared for a moment before his eyes lit up, smiling as he hugged the cat. And he hugged him back, softly rubbing his back.

"I- I know it might be a lot to ask but- Can you stay with me.? A-at least until I fall asleep!" Dogday waited nervously for some sort of response. And after a beat, Catnap nodded. Making the dog smile even more, hugging him tighter. "Thank you Catnap!! Thank you thank you thank you! You're the best!"

Catnap smiled softly, and then he looked down. He could see Dogday's tail wagging like crazy. Catnap gently pulled away, smiling a little smugly as he signed, "Happy to see you too." Dogday's cheeks turn a soft red as he nervously smiled, reaching to hold his tail still. Catnap chuckled as he reaches to take Dogday's arm in his and closed the door before leading him to the room.

Dogday laid down as Catnap pulled the blanket up, tucking him in. Catnap sat on the edge of the bed as Dogday smiled. "Thanks for checking in on me Catnap, I really appreciate you, you know that?" He gave a small giggle as Catnap looked at him, softly blushing. His giggle turned into a laugh as Catnap moved to gently put his hand over his eyes, ushering him to sleep. "I'm serious! Thank you, for everything you do Catnap.."

Catnap's eyes softened hearing that. He blushed more, as he took his hand off he looked away. He began to sign, "Dogday... I really-" But as he looked back, he found that Dogday had fallen asleep. It seemed covering his eyes worked a little too well. Catnap sighed, chuckling slightly. 'Oh Dogday..' he thought as he stared at the now sleeping dog.. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

'Goodnight, my Sunshine..'

[happyheidi]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. August will bring blessings.

ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?

webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.

it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere

[wiltkingart]

Asche and Vindt from Ocean's Blood by Thelma Mantey

[welcometogrouchland]

♫ I do what I want/Crying in the bleachers and I said it was fun/I don't need anything from anyone ♫

(ID in Alt) you guys ever think about your own posts and get upset?? Anyway Damian Wayne I love you I'm so sorry your life is like that

[voltaical-art]

whadya mean he didnt tell you he loves you??? his eyes literally went soft when he looked ur way...

[courfee]

little poster for the fic Operation Walburga's Arbitrary No Kissing Ever Rule :) 10 things i hate about you, but make it jegulus

[laurents-secret-diary]

oh damen we're really in it now.mp4

[lightbulb-warning]

today i offer you prompts 11-20 for isat month!! ignore your calendar THANKYUUUU <3

[panakoui]

post canon laishuro prelude :>

[stitchwraith-stingers]

theyre selling pepsi for 1,75$ in fairy world

[ma-re-zo]

Winter time hehehheheheh look at this Twink

I put negative effort into this sorry

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[electricpurrs]

the good thing about people having already made furry disco elysium art before is that it makes me less deranged for doing it. unfortunately it also makes me less original. its the curse i get for not knowing how to draw people

some more stuff ig. i kinda want to try drawing other characters for the funsies but my unoriginal ass cant figure out what animals i should make anybody else