#vent fic kinda

[hom3landr]

Little Miss Why So

18+

Homelander X GN!Reader

(While the song title referenced is gendered, the reader in the fic is written as gender neutral)

Very loosely inspired by the song of the same name by The Amazing Devil

“Why won’t you believe I love you if I’m not hurting you?” He says.

Written for Cozy Corner Kinktober 2024 for the prompts Crying, Biting, and possibly Magical Healing Cock?

CW: Dubcon, Toxic Coping Mechanisms, Toxic Relationship Dynamics

When he finds you, you’re sobbing. Fat tears stream down your face and drop onto the pavement below. Your eyes are swollen and sticky with sorrow and the force with which you wail stirs up bile in your gut. Rain drenches you and the cloying stench of rot from the wet trash in the alley mimics the disgust you feel for yourself in that moment.

This isn’t about him but you know he’ll take it that way. He seems to take any emotion that isn’t pure adoration of him as some personal slight, as though he’s not good enough to keep you distracted from your pathetic life and its struggles. He sees it as a competition between your world and his. You see it as your reality. You’d wanted to find a quiet place to lick your wounds alone. That’s why you escaped to this filthy alley in the first place. But he found you anyway, vulnerable and ill-prepared to handle his ego.

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands in the alleyway entrance with his hands on his hips and a cock of his head. His face is blank as he looks you over, his lip curling slightly in distaste. You know you look a mess with your nose leaking snot and your cheeks hot and swollen. You don’t say anything. You don’t have the energy. You just sniffle and wait for the inevitable blast wave.

He stays silent, the only noise is the soft patter of rain and the squelch of his boots on the wet ground as he walks toward you. He crowds you against the brick and grips your hips to spin you to face the wall. You brace yourself with your hands and he pushes in close behind you. The soft bulge of his cup hides his erection but you can tell by the eagerness with which he presses against you that he's hard. You rest your head on the wall and sigh. You don’t have the energy to reciprocate but it doesn’t seem like he expects you too.

“You look so good like this,” He purrs in your ear. It surprises you. You know you look like shit. “So pure and perfect.”

He grinds against your ass and peppers your neck with greedy kisses. His hands quickly fumble with the button of your jeans and he slides the zipper down with a hiss. His hand dives into your underwear, testing your readiness. You aren’t at all really but it doesn’t seem to deter him too much. He strokes you exactly the way he knows that you like and your body responds accordingly. You arch into his touch even though your crying hasn’t ceased. He hushes you softly.

You hear the hiss of his own zipper and he uses his knee to coax your legs further apart as he tugs your jeans down past your ass. You offer no resistance. He spits on his palm for some lubrication and strokes himself before pressing in. He goes slow but it still stings a bit without the usual extended preparation. You hiccup and whimper at the stretch but despite all his flaws, you trust him not to cause you any damage. He’s careful and strangely you find that you don’t mind the pain. It’s cathartic.

“Just let it out. That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He coos in your ear as he bottoms out. You grunt, uncomfortably full but satisfied by the distraction from your own thoughts. He doesn’t move except to resume stroking you, humming in pleasure at the way you clench tightly around him.

“I want you to cry for me until you can’t anymore. Don’t fucking stop.” He growls. You nod weakly as you allow the tears to fall freely without shame. There’s nowhere for you to hide with the way you’re pinned between the wall and his hard cock.

The first thrust hurts. You haven’t fully relaxed around him yet although you’re slick enough to take him by now. He grunts, rubbing you faster while his other hand reaches up to grab your jaw, turning your gaze to meet his. He searches your eyes for something and he seems to find it. The cold appraisal in his expression warms slightly as he leans down to lick the salt from your cheeks.

“Give it to me. Don’t hide it.” He moans against your skin as he begins to increase the speed of his thrusts. Your discomfort is quickly evolving into pleasure now at the intensity of the sensations he’s filling you with. You moan and his grips tightens bruisingly, purple inevitably beginning to bloom under his fingers. You cry out and he throbs inside you.

“This belongs to me.” He growls and his pace is brutal as he uses you.

You’re beginning to understand his fervor now. You begin to understand why he feels so entitled to your pain. How many times have you seen him at his weakest? How many times have you held him while he cried and comforted him as his shoulders shook with sorrow and self-pity? He doesn’t like uneven scales. He’s gloating, gleeful that he’s not the only weak one in the relationship.

It’s fucked up…but that’s him. How can you begrudge him when this is all he’s ever known? After all, it is helping. The overwhelm of sensation is the only thing that could have pulled you out of that headspace. You need this wake-up call as a reboot of your brain. Your mournful cries have evolved into needy moans and your hips press eagerly back into his. A kinder response wouldn’t have reached the root of your hurt. Like lancing a boil, you need him to drain the poison out of you.

He continues to whisper sweet nothings in your ear despite the way he’s fucking you as though he doesn’t give a damn whether you live or die. It’s cold and emotionless, using you as merely a sleeve for his cock. But his breath against your ear is warm and he nuzzles sweetly against your temple. You try to speak but the wind is knocked out of you every time his cock pounds against that soft spot inside you.

“I don’t want to hear anything come out of your mouth unless it’s your pathetic sobbing. That’s what you came all this way for, so fucking do it.” He pants breathlessly against your ear as he nears his release.

You do, although the tears that prick at your eyes are those of pleasure now. You’re loose and quivering around him and every nerve ending tingles with electricity. Your nail tears as you claw at the brick to brace yourself for the edge he’s quickly driving you towards.

You cry out his name and he bites your shoulder harshly, the bloody reprimand staining his teeth.

“What did I just fucking say?” He hisses before lapping hungrily at the wound and groaning darkly at the iron tang that fills his mouth. He can taste the endorphins in it and it drives him crazy.

The sudden sharp pain hurls you into a world ending orgasm and your legs give out. You almost collapse until he presses you bodily against his wall. His pace shifts into a deep filthy grind right into your spasming hole as he holds you up with his body. You wail and clench around him and it doesn’t take much longer at all until he’s spilling into you, his release leaking out of you and dripping down his balls onto the slick pavement below. He moans and whines in your ear, his demeanor shifting from cruel to needy in the span of a heartbeat.

You struggle to catch your breath, agony and delight filling your veins in equal measure. It’s perfect. It’s just what you needed. He’s just what you needed, every cruel beautiful inch of him. You don’t merely endure him. You need the sharp edges of him to keep you grounded. You need that pain.

His arms wrap around you. He peppers your sore shoulder with sweet kisses as a silent apology. You’ll need to bandage it up when you return but you aren’t going to worry about it right now. You’re content in his embrace. The two of you wait there in silence as the silver rain continues to fall all around you, causing the dirty alley to glint prettily in the moonlight. Your chest still aches but you can survive it.

“Let’s get you back home. I’ll run you a bath and have the kitchen bring you up your favorite. How does that sound?” His tone is so kind and warm, a far cry from his earlier demeanor. You still aren’t quite capable of speech but you nod.

“There you are.” He coos, and as he scoops you up into his arms and off into the sky, you slip away into a comfortable doze.

You know it’s not healthy but it’s all you have. It’s all he can give you. If it gets you results then you can learn to be content with that. So you lean into him and let the rain wash away the remnants of what ails you.

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[jackdaniel69nice]

Crying shadow chronicles

When most people look themself up online they have to worry about less than suitable results. For dark shadow all they get is people telling them that they aren’t really a person :/

It’s sad that shadow constantly has to reaffirm their existence in this world, why does no one care, why does no one remember them. They know tokoyami cares at least but if they disappeared would anyone even notice? It’s no wonder they are so angry all the time, so desperate for attention.

POV you just said something mean to his baby quirk (he’s a little deranged actually)

Dark shadow’s “room” (Under the bed). They have a nice little comfort nest with plenty of thing to keep them busy

When your quirk has been screaming and crying for 3 hours and you can do nothing to comfort them and you are really tired and just want to go to bed

[sttoru]

aita for blocking a friend bcs they dont reply to my messages or reply very late (like a whole day after) even though theyre clearly online, playing games, chatting w others etc 🤥 ?

[falsegrailwar]

Hello QiuRong nation as well

[gamequeenanya]

Guess I'm just going to post them.

Tired of the editing stage and my fingers are tired. My stories don't gain much (if any) traction anyway.

Besides, if my stories don't flow smoothly, feel free to give constructive criticism. I can take it. (What I won't tolerate is people who just want an excuse to tear down my work/headcanons just because it doesn't relate to them personally.)

[dragon-queen21]

Regressor Tanjiro & caregiver Tengen vent hc’s

Tw: vent post, injuries, just overall angst

~~~

~The first time Tanjiro vent regressed he showed up and Tengen’s door covered in blood and dirt after a mission and Tengen was ready to go out and throw hands at whoever hurt the boy. It was only after his wives pointed out to him that going out and looking for a fight would in fact not calm the baby down and would probably do more harm than good.

~Little Tanjiro who can’t tolerate any pain, what so ever. Tiny paper cut? He’s going to start bawling. Stubbed toe? It’s the end of the world actually. The only thing that will calm him down is multiple very colorful bandages and a plethora of kisses peppered onto his skin.

~Worried that none of his friends actually like him. Scared that he’s being a nuisance and despite him coming over to Tengen’s more times than not after a mission and the man explaining that he loves to watch over him he still thinks he isn’t worth it.

~It breaks his caregiver’s heart to hear his sweet boy crying and talking so horribly about himself but telling him to stop is somehow worse because if Tanjiro doesn’t vent now he won’t say anything to anyone and keep everything bottled up.

~Tengen’s found out through trial and error that the best and simplest thing to calm Tanjiro down it to walk around with the boy in his arms. Just softly bouncing him and rambling about everything and nothing till the teen can focus again on his words

~Tanjiro doesn’t sleep well without others in the room. He grew up snuggling with his siblings and now travels with three others who have no concept of personal space. This only gets worse when he’s small feeling too lonely to fall asleep.

~Tengen who refuses to let Tanjiro sleep in his and his wives room. Nope. Doesn’t matter how small Tanjiro is regressed- it’s not happening. They have a guest room for a reason. Or at least that’s what Tengen tried to enforce. It only took about two nights of no sleep due to Tanjiro waking up screaming and crying from nightmares subsequently waking up the whole household and leading no one to get any sleep, plus his wives to express their utmost disappointment for the man to bring the little one’s futon into their room.

[candy8448]

In whump i always find the need for there to be some big breakdown or the whumpee telling the caretaker everything bad that has happened, and seeing the caretaker's reactions and im pretty sure that is because I want to be able to have people feel sorry for me and i want to have a big breakdown, but i really just cant

(And being a legend fan means that it almost never happens in his whump fics, lol)

[vincentask]

Ooc: Weekly update again; for anyone wondering what happened and where is the update, and if the bww au is cancelled or if this ask is abandoned;

No, it’s not. I promise

I’ve just had a ton of irl things get in my way and burnout and also other fixations that caught my eye! I miss this blog tremendously and I really want to come back to this one day. I also realized that this au is pretty big than I thought it would?? XD Which I’m not complaining it’s just I’m trying to figure out how to plot it out and post it. (And plus!! I also have another chapter in the works as well! As well as a oneshot I’d like to post! But I do want to follow the plot and timing (and I’m also afraid it may give out spoilerssss!! But we’ll see!!) )

*scratches head* It does look like I did abandoned this blog as well ahahah.. and im incredibly sorry haha. But for people still following me, thank you so much for your support, kindness,and patience! I didn’t expected this to be much big than I’d plan but you loving Vincent and my soon-to-be-planned story means a whole lot to me, so thank you 💕

[koka-mi]

no faint streak broken we'll get em next time </3

[sad-leon]

Just Let Me Live In Despair

[I don't wanna wait for Ao3 to come back, so I'm just posting this straight to tumblr]

Summary: Leo had promised Raph that he'd stop with the self harm. These promises are not so easily kept. Fortunately, Leo has a family who loves him unconditionally.

Tags/Warnings: Discussion of Self harm, Depictions of self harm, Unreliable narrorator, meltdowns/breakdowns, Hurt/Comfort, Leo-centric

(no beta, so please dont be too harsh on any typos)

Wordcount: 2497

~~~

”Promise me, Leo, please.”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise,” Leo sighed as he wrapped his forearm before sliding his sleeve up and over the bandages.

Raph sighed.  “Do you even know what you’re promising?”  There was a hint of desperation in his voice.

“I promise to no longer cut my arms when I’m stressed.”

Raph smiled.  “Thanks, little brother.”

Leo hummed as Raph wrapped him in a hug.  He knew this was not a promise he’d be able to keep.

-

Leo growled as he stomped through the crowded venue.

Stupid crowd.  Stupid anxiety.  Stupid ADHD.

It was stupid really.

Leo was supposed to be walking with his brothers toward a Jupiter Jim booth during the most recent convention after New York had rebuilt itself.  They didn’t even have to wear disguises.  It was supposed to be fun and relaxing!

But nope.  Leo just had to get distracted and wander off toward a booth that caught his eye without saying anything to his brothers.

As he neared the booth, he noticed the pins and charms on display were of characters that looked a lot like himself and his brothers.

“Oh, are you a fan of the Turtle Heroes too?”

Leo jumped and stood straight up, staring at the artist behind the booth.  “Oh.. uh, Turtle Heroes?”

“Yeah…?  That’s who you’re cosplaying, right?”

Leo looked between the artist and the charms.  He suddenly felt as if everyone had turned to wait for his answer.  His hands started to itch as he tried to come up with a reasonable answer.  “Umm.. yeah! Yeah.  Sorry, I- uh.. I didn’t know anyone else knew of.. them?”

Luckily the artist accepted his stuttered response.  They shrugged.  “Yeah,  I tend to get ignored whenever I try to talk about them.”

Panic settled in Leo’s gut.  That meant this person had seen them outside before, probably during the invasion.  Who else had seen them, then?

“Hey, you’re shaking.  Are you okay?”

Leo snapped back to attention and tried to ignore the itch that had taken over both his forearms.  “Uh, yeah.  Sorry.  I’ve got- I’ve got to go.  I like your art, by the way.”

He quickly turned and walked away before the artist could respond.

“Hey-” Leo cut himself off when he realized he couldn’t see any of his brothers.  “Oh.. uh… okay.”

He glanced at the ceiling and tried to orient himself.  Now, if he just walked forward, he’d find his brothers, right?

If he just kept walking…

If he just…

“Fuck,” he hissed when he passed a booth he’d already passed.  He glanced at the ceiling.  He was not facing the right way.  “Of course…”

Standing on his tiptoes, Leo spotted a door that led outside.

He obviously wasn’t getting anywhere, so he might as well leave.  The others would notice he wasn’t there, eventually.

Quickly, Leo stomped toward the door.  He scratched his arms.  He knew this feeling, but the promise he’d made Raph echoed in his mind.  He wouldn’t give into the urge to claw his arms open.

Pushing the door open, Leo almost broke into a run as he found a secluded alleyway.  He crouched down and took a breath.  “Okay.  The guy who beat the Kraang getting lost in a convention and running away is not a good image, but who's watching, anyways,” Leo hummed to himself.

He pulled out his phone, intending to call Donnie.  His twin would either give him directions, or come find him and they’d go home.  Silently, Leo was hoping for the second option.  He really didn’t want to go back into the building.  Even the thought of going back made his anxiety sky-rocket.

Leo tapped the power button.  Nothing.

Again.  Nothing.

Fuck.  How did he forget to charge his phone?  Oh, Donnie was so going to kill him.

Before Leo could focus on that thought, irritation bubbled through his veins, resulting in a low growl.

He needed to hurt.  The anger was just beneath his skin and he needed to let it out.

No.  He promised Raph he wouldn’t.

But the itching was getting worse.  It hurt.

It hurt to not hurt.

Leo shook his hands, trying to shake the feeling out.

It wouldn’t leave.

If anything it was getting worse.

“Fuck!” Leo yelled and swung his arm to the side, smacking it on the edge of a dumpster.

A choked hiss escaped Leo as he cradled his throbbing hand to his chest.  God that hurt, but… the itching was gone.

Leo looked at his hand.  No obvious bruising or swelling.  He tried to make a fist and winced.  Okay.  Not fists… or holding things for a while, but he’d be fine.

He’d be able to deal with it.

Taking a breath, he gathered himself and started toward the nearest manhole cover.  Donnie would pull up his tracker and see back home at some point.

Leo hoped they would have fun.

-

Leo was awoken by a consistent poking of his face.

“Hmmm, wha-?”

“Oh good.  You’re awake.  Now.  Would you like to explain to me why we turned around to find you missing only to pull up the map and see you back in the lair?”  Donnie was standing with his arms folded right next to Leo’s bed.

“Good morning to you too, Donnie,” he grumbled.  His hand was throbbing.

“It’s been three hours since we came back to find you asleep.  Raph insisted we let you get some rest before interrogating you, but I have run out of patience.”

Leo felt a twinge of annoyance at his twin.  This was not how he wished to wake up after the shitty time he had earlier.  “Woulda texted.  Phone was dead.”

Donnie huffed.  Before he could say anything else, his comm beeped.  “Saved by the crime alert, dear brother.  Hmm.  It’s not an emergency, but we should probably go check it out.”

Dramatically, Leo sighed and lifted himself off his mattress.  “If we must.  Gimme a few minutes, I’ll meet you guys in the kitchen.”

“I’ll tell Raph and Mikey.”

Leon watched Donnie leave before he looked down at his hands.  The one he had hit barely looked swollen.  Okay.  That’s… good.

He flexed his fingers and bit back a his as his right hand hurt from the movement.  That was less good.  He tried to make a fist.  It hurt, but he could do it.

It would have to do.

Raph wouldn’t have to know.

Besides, Leo should deal with the consequences of his actions.  Maybe then he’ll learn to stop hurting himself.

-

Leo was tired of the Foot Clan.

The two leaders were still missing, but the remaining members had formed their own factions, it seemed.  The Foot did not seem content with letting the turtles rest, so once again, it was up to a group of teenage brothers to put a stop to whatever chaos the Foot was trying to start this time.

“Hey, do you guys wanna take a vacation?” Leo hollered toward the small group of ninja trying to sneak through the alleyway.  “You’ve been committing crimes for what.. a few years now?  Surely you can take a week or two off.  Get some rest.  Relax~”

A knife soaring by Leo’s head made him shut up real fast.  The ninja were silent, but they had stopped trying to sneak away.  Leo’s hand throbbed.  He might have preferred if they just left during his speech.

He really didn’t want to fight.

“Leo,” Raph hissed.  “We talked about this.”

Leo just shrugged.  “Sorry bro, old habits and all that.”  Leo realized his mistake as soon as he said it, so before Raph could put the pieces together, Leo jumped down to engage the Foot ninja.

He tried to use only one sword, but the ninja were stronger than he expected.  Even as his brothers joined the fight, Leo was forced to pull his second sword out.  And man, did his hand hurt.

The fight went on for longer than Leo would have liked.  His hands were shaking and his right hand was going to give out if it didn’t end soon.

Leo had finally gotten the upper hand of the ninja he was fighting when he caught sight of one of the ninja trying to sneak up on his eldest brother.

“Raph!” Leo screamed, but he knew his big brother wouldn’t be able to do much against the sneak attack.

Leo ran, but the only way he’d be able to deflect the attack was if he swung with his right sword.

Biting his lip, Leo swung.  As soon as there was pressure on the sword, his hand gave out and he dropped his weapon.  He brought his second sword up to defend himself, but he wasn’t fast enough.  A sharp pain erupted in his right shoulder.

In a flash of blinding light, the Foot ninja was gone and Mikey was shaking, standing in front of Leo.  “Thanks, Mike,” Leo whispered.  His attempts to hide the pain he was in were futile.  His little brother saw right through his stupid facade.  Maybe the sword sticking out of his shoulder wasn’t helping his attempt to be fine, either.

“Leo!” Raph cried and turned around to hold the slider.  Leo could barely make out his big brother's face as his vision blurred.  The worry made itself clear enough in just Raph’s words, though.  “Why did you do that?!  What even happened?  You had your sword, right? What..?”

Even though he wasn’t seeing clearly, Leo could see Raph connecting the dots.  Donnie beat him to it, of course.  The overachiever.

“’Old habits', huh?”  He reached into Leo’s bag and grabbed what he needed to be able to take care of the wound as they removed the sword.  Leo bit down a scream at the pain.  “And enlighten me, ‘Nardo.  What old habits are we talking about?  Because I don’t think it’s just the bad jokes.”  Donnie didn’t hesitate for a second before grabbing Leo’s right hand.  He applied pressure to the side Leo had hit, making Leo hiss.

Mikey made a noise from the side.  “Leo?  What happened?”

Leo frowned and hummed.

Raph sighed and gently picked the slider up.  “We’ll be talking about this, but for now we need to get you home.  Donnie, would you do the favor?”

“Already done,” Donnie said proudly just as the Turtle Tank pulled around the corner.  “Let’s get home so we can finish taking care of that wound.”

-

The next thing Leo was aware of was the steady breathing of his older brother.  Looking around, Leo noticed he was held in Raph’s arms while Donnie and Mikey slept near the bed.

Leo shifted and hissed at the pain in his shoulder.  Right, he got stabbed.  He remembered Donnie rambling about different galaxies as he stitched Leo’s shoulder in the tank, then it all went fuzzy.

“Guhh.. what time even is it?” Leo hummed.  He’d meant to keep that in his head, but oh well.  A small pit of guilt opened in his gut when Raph grumbled as he woke up.

“Leo..?  Leo!”  Raph quickly arranged himself and Leo so Leo was leaning against a bunch of pillows while Raph sat up, facing the slider.  “How are you feeling, little brother?”

“Like I got stabbed…”  Leo tried to laugh but it came out as more of a wheeze.

Raph frowned.  Leo jumped when he felt a hand softly smack the back of his head.  Donnie and Mikey had both woken up as well.  Donnie just glared at Leo as he brought his hand back down to his lap.

“Leo..” Raph hummed.  His voice was very soft and full of despair.  “You made a promise.”

Leo shrunk into himself.  “Technically, I didn’t cut myself,” he muttered.

“Same difference,” Donnie cut it.  “Self harm is self harm.”

Leo flinched at his twin’s bluntness.  Before he could say anything, Mikey spoke up.  “You were doing so well, Leo, what happened?”

Thinking back on it, Leo felt stupid.  He was alone and got angry so we flung his arm out and hit a dumpster?  How stupid.

“I had a pathetic breakdown behind the convention,” he muttered.  It was supposed to be laughed at.  No one laughed.

“You… you didn’t ditch us,” Donnie said.  Leo wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a question or an observation, but he nodded anyway.

“Well, I kinda did,” Leo muttered.  “I got distracted by a booth, but couldn’t find you guys, so I came home.”

“I’m sorry,” Donnie said.

Leo tilted his head.

“I was rude to you earlier.  I thought you left us on purpose.  It was smart of you to come home rather than risk getting more lost.”

Leo… wasn’t sure what to do with that.  “Thanks..?”

“So, what caused your… breakdown?” Mikey asked, Dr. Feelings shining through.

“I…” Leo considered lying, but decided it wasn’t going to do anything to help his case.  “There were a lot of people.  I was overwhelmed and lost.  I- my head was loud.  Everything was itchy.”

“Itchy?” Raph asked.

Leo nodded.  “That's why I did it so much.  It feels like my blood is itchy.  It needs to get out.”

“But you didn’t cut earlier?”

“No…”

Raph surprised Leo with a smile.  “That’s good.  Not good that you hurt yourself in a different way, but good that you resisted the urge to cut.  I’m proud of you.”

Leo couldn’t stop the tears if he tried.  “But I still hurt myself..”

“You did, but you didn’t cut, even though you felt the urge.”

The words were stuck in Leo’s throat, so he shook his head.

“...No?” Raph asked, confused.  “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Leo.”

“Shouldn’t- Shouldn’t be proud.”

Raph slowly wrapped Leo in a hug, giving him the chance to pull away.  He didn’t.  “This… this is a hard situation, but that doesn’t mean it has to be awful.  I’m not going to make this harder on you than it already is.”

Leo could see Mikey nod from the side.  “Raph is right!  Recovery is hard and full of ups and downs!  Just because we’re in a ‘down’ doesn’t mean we can’t go back up.”

Leo sniffed.  “Thanks, Mikey.”

Donnie put a hand on Leo’s knee.  “Perhaps, I can… I could make a sleeve that simulates the pain until you find another coping mechanism…”

“Really, Donnie?” Leo asked.

“Nod.  The pain is what helps clear away that itchiness, right?  If I could find a way to simulate it, then you can clear your mind during a breakdown without actually hurting yourself.”

“Wow,” Leo sighed.  “That would be awesome.  Thanks. Donnie.”

Raph tightened his arms around Leo slightly.  “Go to sleep, little brother.”

Leo hummed and let his eyes fall closed as he listened to his brothers talk a bit before they settled down.

“Oh, and Donnie,” Raph hummed sleepily.  “We are so having a conversation when we wake up.”

[rosesradio]

🧍

[i-like-anything-water]

The low whistling from the kettle startled her from her reading. Gently placing the book down, Chloé got up and turned off the stove. Steam welcomed her unprepared self, causing her nose to scrunch up. Sighing, she poured the boiling water into the awaiting mug.

It was white. Plain, white, and average.

The tea was chamomile. It wasn't her favorite. After setting down everything on her desk, she faced the mirror hung on the wall just opposite to where she sat. Eye bags were more obvious now that she didn't wear make up, her posture was hunched, and she was wearing a shirt she swore she had on since the other day.

Or was it the weekend. Or last week.

She.... didn't really know. No, it's not that she didn't know.

She just didn't remember.

But she remembers how Marinette liked her tea. Remembers she would always wait until the kettle boils. Remembers she likes to sit by her desk while staring at her sketchbook, hoping for inspiration to hit.

She remembers her Mari insisting the mirror be placed where she could always see her reflection, be it by accident or muscle memory.

"You're beautiful," Marinette murmured as she softly combed Chloé's hair. They were both facing the mirror - an image of two smiling, contented women gazing back at them.

She remembers just maybe too much for her to move on.

[lycankeyy]

the people asked for yuri here is your yuri. appreciate it /silly 🔪

On a more serious note, this fic is a little more explicitly dark content-wise even thought its 90% fluff, so please heed the content warnings in the author's note and the mature rating. Stay safe etc ily etc

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Update on my Whumptober thoughts: Not all the prompts will be posted, I have all 31 planned out but I found out that you don't have to post all 31. If a fic is finished, I'll post it but there's some big beasts that I want to write properly instead of rush. Also, I might not even write all 31. I want the completionist title but I don't have the time nor energy to force myself to write all the prompts and I did it last year and it wasn't like life-changing. I like Whumptober because the prompts help my creativity, spark some inspiration (talking about my Delancey Brothers Fic) but the perfectionist in me just beats myself up about not getting enough fics done before October or not writing enough each day to get them finished and then writing fics that all sound the same or the ideas being kind of shitty because I'm forcing them. I want to do my ideas justice rather than mass produce shit I don't like because I feel I need to, it's a constant line I walk between "I want to write something well and that I'm proud of so might be inactive for a while on AO3" and "I want to get this idea out there so need to post a bunch of stuff now"

[goth-automaton]

I was checking something in AO3's FAQ and

Oh. So the ex-friend did delete all her comments manually from my fics. Like. I'm not mad or anything, I'm just wondering, why the hell did she put so much effort into that? Didn't she have better things to do??? (There was a lot of comments and not long later she deleted her account, so...)