#thank youuu this was so fun!

[angelsdean]

Just for fun. If you could curse any of the SPN characters with something funny for a day, who would it be and how? I always thought giving Sam a one-day Halloween Curse of Samuel Campbell (i.e. going bald/his hair falling out) would be excellent to watch.

ooooh i love this shal! (i also very much would love to see sam in that situation lol)

hmmm so many options buuuut. i think i have to go with singing curse! on ALL of tfw! give me the proper musical episode i deserve! especially dean and cas though. every time they wanna talk they have to do it duet style. also bonus points if the curse wants them to play certain roles / will only stop if they accept their roles in the musical (kinda like gabriel's whole thing in changing channels).

this curse is very much a destiel shipper. whomstever cast it really wants to see them play romantic leads in the musical. and they both keep resisting a little for yknow reasonssss. this takes place before any confessions in my mind. but in the end they embrace it and we get a totally sappy lovey duet. there are many costumes and little outfits too. the curse zaps them on idk *handwaves*

[ebonytails]

Hey everyone! this is where the zebra is currently with the design.

It has knee braces!! I will most probably be drawing the zebra usually with them on, but it’s no requirement, for example if anyone else wants to draw the zebra :-]. I always like to make sure an animal design has official colors underneath any clothing and accessory anyway. I think this will be final! thank you everyone for your feedback!

As a reminder, aside from why the zebra was requested for this flag, this is also just a zebra with the disability pride flag on it. It’s just a deisgn to fit the flag, with input from other disabled people in our community. It doesn’t mean other animals can’t have designs with these colors, too! I don’t mean this design to be the only mascot for all disabled people. It’s just a silly series i do of pride animals, and at the time, during disability pride month, I wanted to see what everyone wanted me to start off with for this flag!

the goal with my pride animals is to take requests and make people feel happy and seen.. that’s all <:-)

[lewkwoodnco]

TTPD x Lockwood & Co. (1/5) (2) spotify gif template by @danesdehaan!!

[stardynamite]

LMAO THANK YOU GUYS FOR YOUR SWEET COMMENTS GDKDHDK I WISH I COULD ANSWER YOU ALL AHHH💖💖💖

ALSO PROPS TO THIS GUY @potatoeofwisdom FOR NOTICING THIS LMAO:

I thought this detail would only be funny to me lmao 😭

[carniferous]

okay hello i’ve come to offer a vague concept ❤️🤲 the first thing that came into my mind is like being in a car. and something being wrong w the car. which sounds so stupid but is hopefully vague enough?? also idk if i’m meant to specify a ship but (and you probs already know what i’m gonna say) ur bartylus genuinely changed my life and it’s always on my mind and im obsessed w it forever and ever and would die if you ever wrote them again (but also like. no pressure. i don’t wanna try and tie you down to one specific pathway) ANYWAY i hope this is vague enough but also not too vague that you’re just staring at me blankly rn… icl babe u really didn’t set any parameters so i’m kinda trying to spear fish in the dark here but im gonna stop talking now…. eagerly (but patiently!!) awaiting ur response <33

LMAO NOOO thank you so much this is exactly the level of vagueness i wanted!!! i simply need to let things cook in my beautiful mind palace before i can write + vague concepts work best for that

anyway i tried to do it justice for u. it's more barty character study than bartylus sorry but. also it's compeltely unedited!! do with that what you will xoxo

“I knew it,” Regulus murmured, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. He was slumped down in his seat, the lines of his face stark in the pale moonlight. The motorway stretched out empty and endless before them. 

Barty clenched his jaw and turned the key in the ignition once more. The engine sputtered loudly, just enough to give him some small shred of hope, before it promptly died for the fifth time. 

“Dammit,” he hissed, thumping his hand against the steering wheel. He turned to Regulus, “What?”

Regulus lowered his hand and glared fiercely. “I knew I was going to die in this metal box the moment you persuaded me to get in.”

“And yet, you still let me persuade you.”

“Barty.”

“What?” Barty grinned. “You’re not going to die, Regulus. Cars are only dangerous when they’re moving.”

Regulus scoffed. He looked about five minutes away from having a conniption—which meant that Barty had about three minutes of continuing to fuck with him before he got properly angry. His hands were clenched in the fabric of his trousers, and when he turned his face towards the window, Barty could glimpse the deep shadows under his eyes as they appeared under the light. 

He felt his heart soften, just a tad. 

“I have a plan,” Barty said.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back that they disappeared into his skull: “Oh, joy. Another plan.”

“They’ve gotten us this far, haven’t they?” 

“Yes, stranded on the side of the road with you,” muttered Regulus. “Exactly where I want all my plans to lead me.”

At that, Barty felt a strange, wild sort of affection swell up within him. He wanted to lean over and bite the nape of Regulus’s neck hard enough to draw blood, wanted to crowd him against the door until all that bluster and exasperation fell away. But there would be time for that.

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Regulus said sullenly. “I want—”

He stopped. Barty’s grin abruptly fell away. He reached over and cradled the back of Regulus’s head, firmly enough that he had no choice but to face him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast, an unhappy twist to his mouth, a sickly tinge to his face that the low light couldn’t hide. 

“Hey,” Barty said, and he curled his hand into a fist in Regulus’s hair. “Look at me.”

Regulus’s gaze flickered up.

He was a living bruise, a walking heartache. Two weeks ago, Barty had looked at him as they packed their things for the end of term, and he’d known that Regulus wouldn’t survive another summer in that house—not as himself, anyway. He knew it the way Sirius must have, before he left, and he understood. Better than he’d like to admit. Sometimes it was easier to pack your bags than to watch someone like Regulus tread water and insist that they weren’t moments away from sinking. 

In that respect, though, Barty was different. He didn’t care what Regulus wanted. He wasn’t going to leave him to drown. 

Besides. Barty was fed up, himself.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, and Regulus listened with wide, unblinking eyes: “We’re not going home. Do you understand? There’s nothing back there. Nothing. Forget it, Regulus.”

A beat of silence. Barty’s grip loosened, he made to pull back, and then—

“What about your mother?” Regulus asked with a horrible little glint in his gaze. 

“What about her?” Barty replied without missing a beat.

Regulus blinked. Barty almost laughed at him. Could have, at the idea that Regulus thought he’d trapped him with that. His mother, who’d wanted Berty out of that house perhaps even more than he himself did. Regulus could never understand that.

What he could understand, though, was the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of freedom. Of the surprising vastness of your own mind when it was vacant of everyone but yourself. Of sitting in a car stranded on the side of the road and becoming aware of your own mortality. Death was suddenly an end to something real and full of potential. 

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I turn seventeen in five hours,” Barty said. “Once midnight hits, the Trace will disappear. I’ll fix the car then.”

“You don’t know how to fix it.”

“At least I know it’s called a car and not a ‘metal box.’”

“You want us to spend five hours in this thing?” Regulus said, as though catching up with his own disbelief.

“Technically, seven hours,” said Barty. “We still have to make it to Bath. And then, once we pick up the twins…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Barty shrugged—a loose, slouching thing. He noticed Regulus’s eyes track the motion with nothing short of predatory glee. “Orgy in the metal box?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Barry cajoled, grinning from ear to ear. “Why else would you run away with me?”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Regulus gazed, baleful and petulant, out at the road in front of them and Barty gazed at him. Already, he was more animated, more tetchy, more acerbic than he’d been just days ago. The cobwebs slowly clearing from his eyes.

Sometimes, Barty recognized Regulus like the slant of himself in a shard of glass. But other times, Regulus was just very beautiful. Barty wondered if there an element of vanity in wanting him, to the prideful joy he got out of fucking him out of his own head. The idea that he could press Regulus down hard enough to mold him back into himself. 

On very rare occasions, he wondered if he was like his father. If the only love he knew was what he learned from the voice in his head as it puppeted his limbs about. If that presence was more himself than he was. A normal person would look at it with revulsion, would see complete and total control as a firsthand abomination.

But it was because Barty knew the abomination firsthand that he knew also the complete, total, clean satisfaction of such control.

“You were hardly the first to ask,” Regulus said mildly.

Even in the darkness, Barty could see the flush travel down his neck. He grinned and, without another word, reached over and unhooked Regulus’s seatbelt.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied, just as mild.

[sharkaroni]

Chapter 10 of The Plum Calendar is up!

In this chapter, Reigen and Serizawa finally have a talk. In the end, they’re wet, cold, covered in mud, one of them’s bleeding and they’re both halfway deaf. But to find out how that happened, you’re just gonna have to read the very final chapter of The Plum Calendar.

” Like I said, aside from the constant overhanging threat of being eaten, it was one of my better vacations to date.” The fact being, it was one of exactly two vacations Reigen had taken in his entire adult life, and the other one had been pretty severely dampened by a very predictable bout of salmonella. ”Besides, you, uh, definitely did your part,” he said, looking the other way. ”You’re a pretty smooth talker, when you wanna be. And you’re not a bad kisser, either.” Reigen didn’t have time to reflect on what a stupid, idiotic thing that had been to say, because he, along with all the woodsy debris on the ground, was being launched a good few meters up into the air by some unseen psychic force.

The Plum Calendar has been a fic about pretending to be engaged to the secret love of your life so a 200-year old ghost won’t marry him and keep him in the ghost dimension forever. But it has also been about not being good enough, about the concept of deserving, about what it means to be a liar, and whether or not that sort of thing is innate.

For those of you who have been reading along, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. I can write 30 000 words of someone else’s sappy feelings, but I can never express how much I’ve loved having you read my story. And for the rest of you,  maybe check it out? I don’t know, you might like it.

[cielsiesta]

song about an angel 🥀🐇

alt version:

[nitroish]

some commissions ive done recently!

you can find the info for my commissions here :]

[bandy-andy]

can you draw c!hannah love and light <3

Knight of Roses

[legstheoctomobster]

do you do requests? if so can you do hcs for mama betty and papa simon? :D

Yeah! Here you go :D

Mama Betty + Papa Simon Headcanons

Betty will often take you out of the house and just to anywhere. Whether that be the park, library, or just on a walk, she loves going outside with you!

Simon loves to explain ancient objects and artifacts to you. You’ll often ask seemingly dumb questions to get your papa rambling.

Simon’s usually good at stopping tantrums, while Betty will just give you whatever you want to stop the tears, usually out of panic. Simon also gives in to this as well at times.

Betty loves when you help her cook. You are usually the mixer/taste tester. She’ll gladly infodump about what spices work and don’t work for a dish.

Whenever your stuffy accidentally tears, Simon’s the person to go to for repair. He’ll often add small embroidery to the stuffy when you take a nap.

Betty can usually pick you up and cradle you, while Simon’s not strong enough. Betty and you often tease him about it.

Simon and Betty will show you pictures of them (pre-canon) and share stories of their explorations

As a prank, you’ll often hide Betty and Simon’s glasses somewhere around the house. They both know where you’ve placed them, but they like to act dumb and “plead” with you to help them find the glasses.

(Gonna add some post(??) Fionna and Cake Multiverse stuff where Betty is turned back into a human and stays in Ooo with everyone else!)

You often have playdates with a regressed Marcy and Fionna. Most play dates end with Simon being “forced” into a princess tea party. Betty will gladly take photos and tease him. Marcy and Fionna are also your sibbies!

[littencloud9]

21, 24, 25 (you don’t have to do them all obviously whichever you want most) and KUNICHUU!!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m not predictable at all

HELLO!!! whaaaat kunichuu no way who saw that coming haha not me—

21. wildcard, dealer's choice. im guessing this means i get to choose so have a secret office kiss idk kfjkfdjk

"We are going to get caught," Kunikida hisses, his voice muffled as Chuuya drags him in for another kiss, lips twisted in an aggravating smirk. "If you don't shut your mouth, then yeah, we will," Chuuya mumbles. He pulls back, eyes filled with mischief. "Come on. You said your coworkers were eating lunch downstairs." Kunikida gasps as he's pushed onto his own desk. His pen holder falls and the stationery spills out. Before he can complain, Chuuya lifts them back up with gravity, putting them back exactly where it was. "I'll buy you more if your pens spoil," he assures, kissing Kunikida again. Kunikida's protests fizzle away as Chuuya kisses him languidly like they have all the time in the world, but when Kunikida places a hand on his chest, pushing him away to catch his breath, and he can feel his heart thundering rapidly. "It's like getting caught excites you," he says with an eyeroll. "Ranpo-san definitely knows you're here, by the way." "Don't care. Tell them I said fuck you, actually." "Yes, baby, I will." Chuuya gives him a scandalised look. "Don't say that, ew!" Kunikida dissolves into giggles, burying his face in Chuuya's shoulder, his chest feeling warm.

24. a sleepy kiss

Chuuya comes home at about six in the morning, dragging his sluggish feet to the bathroom. He makes quick work of washing up, barely getting through a shower and putting on pyjamas before he is shuffling into the bedroom, in search of his comfort place. As the door creaks open, Kunikida stirs from his sleep. Chuuya feels a bit bad, but it’s about five minutes before his alarm anyway. Chuuya leaves the door ajar and crawls into bed, sighing when his weary bones hit the mattress. He’s exhausted. Working overnight is never fun. Kunikida mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, lifting the blanket and draping it over their bodies. He pulls Chuuya in, holding him in his arms, and Chuuya sinks into the warm embrace with a pleased sigh. “Welcoms home,” Kunikida whispers, voice still thick with sleep. His eyes are still closed when he lifts Chuuya’s chin, giving him a gentle kiss. Chuuya reciprocates with barely contained desperation, fists balling into Kunikida’s shirt. He doesn’t know how much this means to him. Chuuya would kiss him more, but he’s interrupted with his own yawn. Kunikida chuckles, running a hand through his hair and kissing his forehead. “Sleep, love. I’ll see you later.” “Don’t go yet,” Chuuya grumbles. Kunikida’s alarm is going to ring any moment now. “Just a little longer.” And Kunikida gives in, because he’s always been weak to his requests when he’s sleepy. He sighs, tightening his hold. “Alright.”

25. a kiss that's on accident

Chuuya carries the last supply box up to the Agency, kicking the storage room door open with their leg. Kunikida is inside doing a stock count, eyes trained on the clipboard in his hands. He doesn't look up at all when Chuuya sets the box down. Just as Chuuya is about to leave, Kunikida leans over. They assume he has something to say and waits, but their world comes to a stop when Kunikida kisses the top of their head softly, patting their back after. "Thank you, Atsushi," Kunikida says while ticking another box on his checklist. "Is that the last one?" Chuuya's voice is missing. They can't seem to find it. The silence makes Kunikida frown. When he looks up, Chuuya sees the exact moment the realisation reaches his eyes. Kunikida steps back in... horror, maybe, bringing the clipboard up to his face. "I—" he begins, and Chuuya does not want to have this conversation right now, nope, they are going to die if they stay in this tiny room with Kunikida any longer. "It's fine," they blurt, taking their own step back. "I, um, didn't mind. Yes, it's the last box. I'll go now. Bye." They dash out the door, ignoring Kunikida calling their name. Their cheeks are flaming as they try to assure themself that that meant absolutely nothing.

[ceristhefallen]

You've sent me so many asks, I feel like it's about time I return the favor! I'd love to know, what are your thoughts on Raven's relationship with her parents?

Ooo! This should be fun! Okay... I'll try sorting my thoughts the best I can:

If there's one thing I most adore about Raven's parental relationships is that THEY ARE SO GOD DAMN COMPLEX. It's more than good vs evil. No, no, no! There are different shades of gray, especially on Trigon's part: He is the CENTER between Raven and Arella's lives that brings them together in the most UNHEALTHIEST way. And it's so interesting to think about!

Trigon is a shitty dad without a doubt. Obviously. He abused Raven, pressured her with the expectations of destiny, and has tried taking control against her will time after time. I mean, c'mon, he's evil incarnate! Yet he isn't without his good deeds either. Who do you think saved Raven from getting thrown into a void by an Azarathian monk? Trigon. Who wrecked havoc looking for his missing daughter in Injustice? Trigon. Who aided Raven in her time of need in the DCAMU (Apokolips War)? Trigon. Meaning, he isn't incapable of goodness but he simply cannot deny what he is, which is something he's been trying to get Raven to understand; that one day... she cannot deny herself any longer.

I also noticed this... and I don't know if anyone has felt the same: I think Trigon is a bit human than we expect him not to be: Think about it. Trigon represents the very evil we are afraid to become. Or, our mistakes/hidden selves that we're afraid to confront. Murderers. Abusers. Ra*ists. Tyrants. Thieves. Everything bad that we do or could do is what he embodies– and he embraces it. In my opinion, that makes him one of the most scariest villains in all of DC.

As for Arella, she is a dynamic case I initially struggled to decipher. So, I looked into the 80s. Arella had a strained love for Raven. They were forbidden of any communication whatsoever. She did want to be there for her! But it's not just that she can't either. Arella outright admits to being afraid of Raven. Unfortunately, she has every right to be afraid: Raven is THE offspring to the same monster that r*ped her. And after realizing the power he has? Who was to know what Raven could do with or without Azarath??

However, what I admire about Arella is her love. Yes! Arella's love for her daughter is what helped her persevere; despite the warnings, despite potentially risking her life, in spite of fears, she went her way to AT LEAST TRY and protect her kin! THAT IS A REAL MOM. THAT IS LOVE. That motherly instinct, despite it all, made me admire Arella's relationship with Raven but also her as a character.

I realized that Trigon and Arella have been underutilized to nearly non-existent over the years. And I see it as pretty unfair. Trigon, Arella, and Azar—these three were important figures in Raven's story. And they shouldn't be forgotten.

[angelmichelangelo]

hi hi!! love your writing sm!! and i was wondering if you had any fic idea between 2012 leo and mikey! i feel like their bond as oldest and youngest brothers is really sweet 🥺

thank you! hope you enjoy, thanks for the prompt! :)

x

Mutagenic goo rains down from the dark sky in thick splatters. Leo’s breath is ice cold in his chest as he takes desperate heaves to swallow it down. 

The remains of the Mega Shredder lay still across the long stretch of road, unmoving and in pieces, there’s a faint trill rattling around in Leo’s head. 

He lifts himself up off the floor. His limbs feel like lead.

He makes a disjointed reach for one of his katana’s. There’s a lone nunchuck laying beside it.

Where’s Mikey? His heart slams into his chest in a second. Where’s—

Donnie and Raph have appeared in front of him. How they managed to reach him in such succession, he neither asks or cares. They look furious. 

“You took him with you,” Raph seethes. His sai’s wink at him where he’s got them in tight grasps at his sides. “You took our little brother with you on your suicide mission.”

Leo tries to speak — tries to defend himself that Mikey insisted he come with! But words fail him, sticking in the bottom of his gut, he tries to twist away to catch a glimpse of his youngest brother but Donnie is catching his wrist with his hand and forcing him towards him.

“It’s your fault!” He more or less growls at him, like a wounded animal. His entire face knits itself together with unbridled anger. “It’s all your fault!”

Leo’s chest grows tight. His legs seem to be buckling from beneath him, certain that the only thing keeping him upright is Don’s iron grip on his arm still.

“What will you tell Splinter?” Raph spits. When Leo looks towards him there’s a wet, glossy sheen clouding dark, fierce green eyes. “How will you tell him about what you’ve done?”

Leo chokes on the words that won’t come, replaced with hot, burning bile instead that’s creeping up his throat, he whines instead and then —

A scream. Loud and shrill and all three brothers are turning so fast they all nearly lose balance, and it’s April, crouched over a familiar, unmoving shape and…

“Don’t look.” Casey is here too now. He looks… haunted. “It’s not good.” 

Leo tries to scream. But nothing comes. His throat is raw and burning, but no noise is able to escape him.

Leo wakes with a start, his heart crawling back down his chest again, he feels it pounding across the inside of his plastron. 

His palms are slick with sweat as he rips his blanket off his legs, swinging them over the bed he steadies him as he stands.

It… it was just a nightmare.

The dark corners of his room slowly come more into focus as his eyes adjust to the night. He quickly regains himself by pointing out the details that he knows:

His Space Heroes poster that’s tacked up on the far wall, a little creased and torn after finding it in the middle of an old, outdated magazine. 

The old martial arts book that Splinter gifted him long ago; the spine cracked from overuse and the bookmark that’s wedged two thirds of the way in.

This is his room. His eyes slide towards his nightstand where his lamp stands. Flicking it to life, a small explosion of orange hue lights up his corner of the room, illuminating the framed photo that stands there beside it.

He swallows thickly.

It’s an old photo, taken when they were maybe around twelve years old, growing into themselves still evident in the bulk of their shells and the muscle lean, Mikey takes up most of the frame with his wide, toothy smile and bright eyes and Leo feels his chest clinch.

His nightmare was exactly just that. Something sour tickles the back of his throat. But it had almost not just been a nightmare. Today it had very nearly become a reality.

The bitterness refuses to budge even when he swallows again, so he moves from his room towards the kitchen in refuge of water. He stops short when he notes the figure standing at the fridge before he can get there first. “Oh.” Mikey says shortly as he whips around. He doesn’t have his mask, instead pulled around his neck loosely, this way Leo can make out the purple rings that circle his brothers eyes. The tiredness that’s etched itself deep across his boyish face. “Busted,” he grins. “Oops.” Leo sighs, dragging a hand down his face like it might rid him of his own exhaustion, he only manages a small, weak huff of a laugh. “Yeah.” He says. He moves closer, Mikey making way for him as he reaches for a bottle of water. “Why you up so late?” Mikey holds up the bag of shredded cheese in his grasp before reaching in with the other hand, bringing out a handful, he grins at him. “You won’t tell dad, will you? That I’m making a midnight snack out of his stash.” Leo snorts. “He always finds out,” he says plainly. “He has the nose for it.” He pauses. “Literally.” Mikey shrugs, having weighed up the consequences already it appeared, he tips his head back, opens his mouth and sprinkles in the cheese. Leo watches him as he unscrews the cap off his bottle. “You know cheese before bed is bad for you,” he tells his brother warningly. His own nightmare ebbs around the corners of his mind. He takes a swig of cold water like it might just wash it away entirely. Mikey hums. “Yeah.” He sets the bag down on the counter. “Couldn’t sleep anyways.” He says it like it’s so normal. He says it in a way that has Leo’s gut growing hot and cold at the same time so he puts his drink down and sucks in a breath. “Yeah, me neither,” he tells him. Two days ago, Leo truly thought he’d lost his little brother. Two days ago he’d watched a monster devour his sibling, tossing him down his gullet without care. Two days ago he’d felt a grief and rage burn so hot inside him, he could feel the after effects of it healing within him. He isn’t so sure how Mikey is here, standing before him entirely unscathed after that entire ordeal, but he isn’t going to dispute it. Still. Guilt is eating away at him like a growing parasite. He shifts from foot to foot and Mikey gives him a sideways glance because he’s always the first to notice when something is up with one of his brothers. “I need to apologize,” Leo blurts before Mikey has a chance to talk. He averts his gaze, ashamedly, staring at the bottom of the fridge instead. “For the other day.” There’s the rustle of the cheese bag where Mikey’s got it in his hold again, fingers dipping in for seconds. “Apologize?” He questions. “For what?” Hurt bubbles up in Leo’s chest like an ugly blister. He closes his eyes but all he can picture is his father’s horrified face when Leo tells him what happened. How he… how he almost got Mikey killed. “I should never have put you in danger like that. The other day, at Shredder’s lair.” His throat bobs. There’s still that awful taste lingering there. Regret, Leo thinks it might be. Regret and shame. “It was a really stupid thing to do.” “Put me in danger?” Mikey says after a beat, voice catching onto an airy laugh. Little bits of shredded cheese fall around at his feet as he waves his hand about. “Leo. I chose to go with you. You didn’t make me – if anything I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” Leo’s quick to shake his head at that notion. No. He thinks sourly. This was never his fault. Mikey sets the cheese back down again, this time to reach over and land a hand on Leo’s shoulder. 

He looks up to face him. Baby blues blink up at him. He’s still a little taller than Mikey but as he stands here in the dull light of the fridge bulb, he notes how much more he’s filled out in the past months. The shape of his arms no longer distinguished by stubborn baby fat. The way his shell seems to fit him a little more snug now (with still some space to grow because he’s always going to be the runt, but Leo would never admit that outloud to him.) This brother right here resembles nothing to the picture he has in his bedroom. He’s not a kid anymore.

“I’m okay,” he tells him, voice low and gentle. “I survived and so did you and yeah it was a little reckless what we did, but when are we never not stupid?” Leo laughs, something wet and wobbly sounding in his chest. He draws back a shaky breath. “Dude. I get it. You’re my big brother, you guys are always gonna worry about me. Nothing is gonna change that, not in this lifetime anyway.” He smiles, all soft around the edges and knowing. “But I can handle myself. If I’m doing stupid shit like getting eaten by Mega Shredder’s it’s because I did it all by myself. Not because of whatever mistakes you think you’ve made.” Leo’s heart squeezes around itself. “But–” Mikey shakes his head back at him, cutting him off swiftly. “Nuh uh.” He moves only to put the bag back in the fridge, closing it, the room quickly fills with darkness. It’s a familiar comfort. “We’re done here. So you can either go back to bed and sulk about it or…” his mouth curves upwards into a slight grin. “Or we can totally watch the Space Hero’s made for TV movie with the subtitles on until one of us falls asleep.” He gives Leo a pointed look. “Your choice, bro.” And truth be told, Leo doesn’t like sulking all that much. Not when he’s doing it alone, that is. So he follows his brother into the pit where there’s already an array of blankets and Mikey’s found the VHS tape in mere minutes, sniffing it out like a bloodhound and they watch their movie on mute as Mikey grows heavy against him, eyes drooping shut, Leo doesn’t nudge him awake or remind him he needs his eyes open to watch the subtitles. Mikey might be right. He’s old enough to make his own choices, whether they’re good or bad. It was just part of growing up; Leo knows he’s had his fair share of bad decisions in his lifetime already. His little brother wasn’t a baby anymore. He was a fully fledged ninja – he’d proven that time and time again and yet–

Leo carefully reaches over his sleeping sibling to drape one of the discarded blankets over his form. Mikey doesn’t stir and Leo feels his heart pinch. And yet. He was always going to be his littlest brother still. No matter how big and brave he got – that was one thing remaining unchanging. 

[sighonaraa]

Sending you good vibes. And flowers if you’d like them, but mainly good vibes

🌼🌸🌷💐🌻🥀🌼🌺🥀🌸🌼🌺💐🌻

weeeps!!! thank you my love <3 sending you good vibes right back. for you, a bit from the aromantic matt murdock fic!!

The needle pinches flesh, a dull prick—and that’s how Matt realizes that he’s lost a bit more blood than he thought, maybe, because the world’s gone a bit distant and amorphous and not quite fully-formed—and Foggy’s voice is equally pinched as he says, long-sufferingly, “Yes, Matthew? If this really can’t wait till after I’m done patchwork-quilting you?” “Nuh,” says Matt. His tongue fumbles against the soft insides of his teeth. “S’important.” “Mm-hmm.” “I don’t like Karen,” Matt says, and the words feel big in his mouth but when they reach the open air they seem to crystallize and grow fragile, like fine-spun glass. One light touch and they’ll fall to pieces. Foggy’s fingers have stilled, the warmth of their pressure going cool and stiff. Matt’s face twists. “Foggy?” “You don’t…like Karen,” Foggy echoes. “Our friend, Karen?” Matt shakes his head. He doesn’t think Foggy gets it, and that’s frustrating; even more frustrating is the fact that he’s not sure how to properly explain it. He tries to push himself up on the couch cushions and gets a firm hand to the shoulder for his efforts. “Don’t like her,” he tries, again. “Don’t…don’t love her.” “Matty, I think you’re going a little loopy—” “No,” Matt says, fiercely, “I don’t love her, Foggy,” and his brain must decide that’s enough out of him, because then everything slips through his fingers and falls away into silence.

[yellowtrinity]

if you're still taking art requests, fran & balthier chilling/having drinks? 💕

cheers! 💋

[mortemcatabasis]

Tara'zotl for @snommie