#why don’t we fic

[syoddeye]

john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.

john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.

sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x

and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.

~~

you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.

~~

he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.

he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.

he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.

“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.

“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”

john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”

“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”

like running into my car?

“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.

“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.

“supposed to be?”

she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”

“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.

it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.

“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”

that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?

it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.

“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.

“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”

crashed. you crashed into my car.

“sounds terrible.”

“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.

john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.

“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.

he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.

[izzystizzys]

TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog

“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”

High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”

Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.

Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.

“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”

“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.

High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.

Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”

“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”

“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.

“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.

He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-

Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.

Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.

Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!

And catch him, High General Windu sure did.

“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”

“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.

“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”

“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.

Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”

[rystiel]

haha don’t think about that au where stan & ford as kids get sent forward in time and end up with young adult versions of themselves, stan with ford and ford with stan. don’t think about adult ford focusing on finding a way to send stan back, kid stan finding it so cool how smart he is. stan eventually realizing that ford isn’t just trying to help, he’s trying to get rid of him—he’s just a reminder of the brother ford doesn’t want to think about anymore. adult stan meeting kid ford, having a version of his brother who still loves him and admires him. taking him to gravity falls because he figures ford could figure out what to do, he can’t just keep this kid forever after all—he has a home to go back to. ford’s found a way to send them back, and right before the younger twins leave, stan stops this kid version of his brother to hug him goodbye. holds on tight and tells him he’ll miss him. maybe ford will respond that he’s sure he misses stan too in the future, but stan knows better. he says “yeah you’re probably right, kid” anyway. the kids leave, and ford leaves stan alone in that room, kneeling on the floor where he said goodbye to the brother that still saw him as his hero.

[theminecraftbee]

task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.

Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.

Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.

Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.

Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.

Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.

Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!

Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.

Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.

Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!

Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?

Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?

Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.

Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?

BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.

Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

[comatosebunny09]

She’s beautiful. And despite how much you’ve tried to hate her, you just…can’t. Understandable why Sylus fell for her charms so quickly. She’s a sweetheart. And it’s infuriating. But—

“Hey,” you interject in a low tone. Stir the contents of your glass, projecting an air of boredom as the partygoers prattle on around you.

She blinks, all bright-eyed and straight-backed in the chair across. Mouth clamps shut, the last vestiges of her story vanishing in the air. Your lips quirk. God, you want to pat her head. Shove her in your pocket for safekeeping.

You motion for her to come closer with two fingers. Angle yourself closer until your breath stirs the pretty bangs adorning her forehead.

“You’re too pretty. Too nice. But you fit him, I guess,” a little forlornness creeping into your voice. “So I’ll bite.”

You ignore how your belly gnarls and twists as you sit back. Cross your legs, banishing those green-eyed monsters poking around in your head. Blame it on the champagne you’ve consumed, making your mind all fuzzy and your stomach feel weird.

“I’ll protect you or whatever,” you mumble before dumping the final contents of your flute down your throat. Fix her with a look that leaves no room for objection after you’ve placed the glass on the table, crossing your arms.

She can do nothing but smile nervously under your gaze, fidgeting with the straps of her dress, searching the tide of partygoers for a familiar shock of white.

Of course she didn’t ask. But it’s your duty to protect what belongs to him.

Any girl of Sylus’ is an temporary ally of yours, no matter how much it pains you to see him entangled with someone who isn't you.

[frownyalfred]

Things you might not realize are affecting your ao3 readership:

Putting unrelated fics into one compilation instead of series or collections

Not tagging your fics/“haha I’m so bad at tagging!”

Tagging all of the ships in a fandom instead of the relevant ones to the story

“This is my first fic ever”/ “I’m really not a good writer” / “sorry if this is crap”

Summaries that say “sorry don’t think I will update much” or “might be abandoned idk”

Tagging “r@pe” or “unaliving” etc instead of the actual tag so people can filter/exclude

NOT tagging major, relevant tags or kinks without using the “creator chose not to use archive warnings” option

Telling people how bad your writing is and how you hate it so much and how they shouldn’t even be reading your fic (self deprecation)

Weird punctuation: not starting new quotes or descriptions on a new line, and/or putting extremely long blocks of text on the page without a break

[azul-marie]

ada. (enamour)

fem. reader. love rivalry including ada/reader/leon. (focus on reader)

something cold digs in between your shoulder blades, sending shivers up tense muscles.

it’s a sudden sensation. catches you off guard you forget to call out to leon, whose back is turned to you whilst sifting through paper files laying across an abandoned wooden desk. the latest room you’ve snuck into seemed abandoned enough — save for its open window rocking back and forth on screeching bolts. they must’ve entered through there mere seconds before the two of you did.

warm, sweet breath tickles your earlobe. another round of shivers overtake your senses. this time, through, you recover quickly enough to react.

your hand flies to your pocketed blade and in an instant is pressed up to their throat. it is then you realize, recognize who your company is. she smiles serenely at you, acting like the knife at her neck isn’t sharp enough to slice through bone. she bears her pistol with all the grace of someone who’s caught you in her web, not the other way around.

“long time no see, kitten.”

her deadpan voice practically echoes through the silence of the night. finally surprising your partner into turning around. what surprises him further is the way ada gazes at you, almost identical to the way she did at him all those years ago.

“ada.” leon says plainly, hand hovering over his own pistol. his eyes flicker between the two of you, to the way your hand fumbles with your blade, to how she smiles a little too suggestively for someone being threatened. he’s certain you’re about to push her down, or for her to knock the knife away from your obviously loosened grip — neither happen.

instead, you carefully tuck your blade away and greet her with a coy smile of your own.

“i wasn’t expecting you here, red.” your arms cross, a guard of sorts. you knew full well of the games she liked to play. she holds your eyes as she slips her pistol back in its holster, searching for something you refuse to show. it’s been a long time, indeed, but you still remember how to compose yourself around her. it’s all rather flattering.

ada circles you, trailing her fingertips over your shoulders. her silky touch is the only weapon in her grasp, but it is perhaps her most dangerous. she takes pleasure in the way you shift beneath her watch, how your pretty face fights to remain mild. she’s no fool. she sees the smile playing at those luscious lips of yours — why bother hiding it? she’s all sultry eyes just for you, now that she’s finally managed to separate your stuffy partner’s hip from yours. seems he hadn’t changed after all. he really was the clingy type.

it was cute. once. not when he happened to be clingy with you of all people.

“once i heard you were around, i just couldn’t help myself.” her arm comes to rest around the curve of your waist. her fingers press into the flesh of your hip, easing you closer. her lips hover over the soft of your neck, almost kissing a path up to your ear. your breathing stutters, and she purrs, “wanted to stop by and catch up with my favorite girl, is all.”

you scoff, but there’s no stopping the heat rising up and over your face. those pretty lips of yours finally turn up in a smile, bashful like a schoolgirl crush. the temptation to run her thumb over your bottom lip runs strong — until an awkward, intentional clear of a throat interrupts the thought.

“i’d appreciate if you left my partner alone.” leon interjects, striding to stand tall besides you. in a swift motion he interweaves your elbows together and pulls you towards him, at once halting the hold she had on you. it’s a comfortable, possessive sort of touch. how quaint. cute little leon, still wearing his heart on his sleeve.

given the way his hand clamps around yours, he must really have it bad. what a shame. for him.

ada is slow to drag her eyes away from you. she even runs them up, down, over your lovely body for good measure. she can’t have leon thinking she isn’t willing to compete — two can play at that game. his fuming glower tells her he’s gotten the message loud and clear. as he should. she zeros in on the way his grip tightens around yours, again, cozily touching you as if you were his.

a quirk of her brow suggests ire. “glad to see you, leon. to think, after all this time, you’re still such a lucky man. who would’ve thought she’d end up being your partner?”

the two of them stare each other down with such intensity you wonder what other history they share aside from you. tension seeps into the chill of the nighttime air. leon’s coiled up so tightly it raises worry, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bicep to placate him. for all you know, the mysterious plagas infecting him could thrive off stress, and he’s already had plenty of that so far.

almost immediately does your touch have him redirecting his notice towards you. his intense gaze softens at your pretty eyes studying him. his broad shoulders gradually relax in your embrace. he’s visibly calmed by the simple act, much to ada’s amusement — and her vexation. her fingertips dig into her palms, wishing it was your hands beneath them instead.

“ada, why are you really here?” you inquire, and she’s pleased when you finally set sights back on her. she’s not fond of the questioning, however. she purses her lips. her expression morphs into a cautious neutral. you’re aware you won’t be getting a direct answer, no matter how much she likes you.

ada sighs, “oh, sweetheart. you know i don’t work and tell.”

guarded, she saunters to the opposite end of the room to the very window she slithered in through, overlooking the bleak scenery with little interest. you slip past leon to follow after her, grasping her fingers to keep her from going any further. pleasant warmth seeps through from your fingertips to hers. there’s no time to relish it, although she longs to feel more. calculating eyes regard you and you alone.

“leave the girl,” demands ada. “she’s lost no matter what. you walk away now…and who knows? maybe you’ll live to meet me again.”

keeping her eyes locked on yours, she brings your hand to her lips, and presses a languid kiss across your knuckles. a stain of red now marks you as hers. play glimmers in her irises. “…maybe i’ll even take you on that date i promised.”

“you think we’re gonna give up that easy?” leon’s voice cuts in, weighed with barely contained venom.

“right.” ada exhales a laugh. how true. the two of you really are perfect for one another. hearts of gold, heads full of dreams. she turns towards a silently seething leon, whose eyes pierce her every move. he does a poor job at hiding his envious glare towards your entwined hands. “how about we continue this discussion another time?”

she drops your hand unceremoniously, in favor of pressing a kiss to your cheek. the pulse of your racing heart is nearly tangible. such a sweet girl, flustered by a simple kiss. longing parts her lips in their journey up to your ear to whisper, “stay safe, beautiful.” she pulls away with an air of nonchalance, committing to memory the clear look of shock she’s frozen you into. it takes all she has not to go back in for another kiss, for there’s no knowing where her lips will land if she does.

“keep her safe for me, will you, leon? she’s really quite precious, you know.”

and just like that, she’s gone.

you nearly stumble towards the creaking window for a vain glimpse into the night she’s disappeared through. half shocked, half mortified of your audience still gaping at you, you could only hope he wasn’t put off by the instance of his flirty adversary. or the fact you had no quarrels in encouraging her.

a hand wraps around yours, warm and tight.

“careful. leaning out a little too far there, don’t you think?”

leon sounds rather relieved now that it’s back to being the two of you. ada must’ve been a sore sight for whatever reasons he’s held within. you avoid his eyes to recollect yourself, murmuring apologies beneath your breath.

then, a touch upon your cheek, the very one she’d kissed, puts a stop to all thoughts. your eyes flutter up towards leon’s. his usually somber expression has turned sour, scowling and scorned in a way you’re unfamiliar with. his hand cups your face, thumb frantically rubbing off what must be a lipstick stain ada’s left behind. the intensity of his eyes only adds to your embarrassment, makes you wish he hadn’t seen her in the first place. maybe then he wouldn’t be upset, angry with the ghost of her presence.

“here i thought luis would be my only problem.” leon mutters, so softly you’d mistaken he’d spoken at all. when he notices the shift in your pretty eyes, the sweetsoft concern that struck him weak, his gaze mellows instantly, and he blinks rapidly as if coming out of a daze. rose pink springs across his face in a blooming blush, a bigger surprise than his supposed anger. he rips his hand away upon realizing himself, leaving you curious.

“i mean—i meant, she’s the last person i expected to run into here. it’s—it’s a long story. won’t bore you with it. just know she’s probably not worth trusting completely. it’s best you’re careful around her. i’d hate…i wouldn’t want you hurt.”

his voice goes quiet at the end. his head is turned away, body tight and tense, hands fiddling with the holsters of his weapons. it isn’t like leon to speak so personally. so openly about his emotions. and you know it isn’t because of ada’s mere presence, what must be a recollection of the past.

you touch your cheek, still warm from his skin.

“you’re the one i trust, leon. we came here together, and we’re leaving together. i’m with you until the end.”

courage overtakes bashful notions. you close in beside him, reach up to push a lock of his hair behind his ear. cup his shying face, a tender encouragement to share his vulnerability with you. leon’s eyes fall back on yours too easily, too swiftly for a simple friendship. you see it; he is incapable of masking it.

it’s somewhat of an honor he’s so fond of you. it’s a reminder to be gentle with his feelings, though you yourself may not have yours sorted out just yet. but it is ascertained that you care immensely for him, perhaps in the way he’d like you to. perhaps not. there’s plenty of time to work things out.

“i’m with you, ace.” you smile, tugging his cheek until he returns one of his own. “there’s no one else i’d rather have beside me. got it?”

leon nods, convinced. “yeah. thanks.”

you pay a playful pat to his cheek, satisfied with his answer. “good, good. now, why don’t we get moving? we wouldn’t want to keep miss ashley waiting. what were we even looking for in the first place? some kind of key?”

the mention of the mission reinvigorates him. “yeah, exactly. should be somewhere around here, if you can help me look.”

“sure! let’s just hope we can get by without someone interrupting again.”

“wouldn’t that be nice.” scoffs leon, slipping his fingers through yours to lead you back towards the other half of the room. this habit of wanting you close was really too cute. willingly do you allow him to take your hand as he pleases.

all the while you will your heart not to flutter at the lipstick still staining the other, red on red alike.

[comradekarin]

jily and wolfstar built the marauders fandom brick by brick! them! and i’ll be dammed if i let yall tear it all down because yall wanna forget yall roots and become obsessed with shiny new objects (jegulus and snape fans)

[dulcewrites]

Hmm well now that Disney went and showed their asses (again), I feel like I can say this without putting bad juju out/jinxing anything. I honestly think the writing was on the wall when amandla, who was arguably the most excited pre the show coming out, essentially went radio silent. Then my gut feeling was only compounded by them (Disney - Lucasfilms - whoever) clearly pushing Qimir/Manny as the lead… which is just not how the show works??

There are possible reasons for that. As for pushing Qimir, it’s clear he (and maybe Sol as well) ended up being breakout characters from the show. I can’t begrudge that - Qimir is interesting as hell. But we see him through the eyes of our leads - he wants an acolyte. There is no acolyte without Osha and Mae. Also why isn’t Manny being pushed in tandem with the actually lead of the show. As for Amandla not being invited to things like d23 or swcj (like Manny), I’ve seen people be like “well, they could just be taking a break considering all of the racist stuff that’s been hurled at them”. And like yeah maybe, but you’d think the people that employed them, would ya know say something about it. Especially considering that Amandla has been burdened with dealing with racist since like the age of 12.

But this is Disney and Star Wars and Lucasfilms where everyone outside of the main story gets treated like shit.

Now for the thing that I didn’t want to put out there before actual news of s2 - I’m sorry but I can’t help but feel like this is them pushing the black nonbinary lead out so they pluck parts of the acolyte for something else. Because while I don’t cruelty pass them (releasing this news on Manny’s birthday is vile), something about them dragging Manny out in particular to several events knowing they were canceling the show just doesn’t make sense? Nothing is set in stone obviously but now I’m seeing people talk about them highlighting Qimir and Darth Plagueis (literally who gives af about that hag) but gutting the story of anything else.

I hope no one takes this as me saying Manny hasn’t dealt with his fair share of shit. He’s been outspoken about how hard it is being a Filipino man in Hollywood. But at the end of the day, Qimir (and by extension Manny) being a mysterious double lightsaber wilding MALE sith gives him an element of protection Osha and Mae (and by virtue Amandla) don’t have as characters. Because notice how much of the ire with the shows casting is about the lead character(s) being black women.

Anyway this is just me rambling about something that’s been on my mind. Tbh I actually have hope that it won’t happen simply because I don’t see the creator/writers of the show being down with that. Also Manny has been vocal about supporting Amandla and not being able do this without them

[thief-of-eggs]

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you are allowed to have a favorite character out of a particular ship. You’re allowed to mostly focus on that character in any fics or art you create. You’re allowed to have a lesser understanding of their counterpart. You do not need to have every ounce of lore in order to ship them. Heck- you can even just like a ship for vibes.

Just because you love a ship doesn’t mean both characters are your absolute favorites. You’re allowed to relate more to one over the other. You’re allowed to make that other character your focus.

[mammomlette]

People don’t talk about MC needing to wear a magical ring to not accidentally yk cause NATURAL DISASTERS with their powers??? Not only accidentally but without realising???

Diavolo or smthn is asking too much of MC or being a bit too annoying and their other hand slowly drifts towards the ring and they hold onto it while maintaining dead eye contact. Like continue to piss me off hoe I’ll blink and blow a hole in your castle idk

Obv they never do it (or do they?) but the threat is there and it’s a risk dia (or whoever but I’m using dia) can’t take

[autistic-katara]

“i hope u die” lame, boring, unoriginal. “i hope ur favourite mostly female show’s top category on ao3 is f/m or m/m” horrifying, blasphemous, tragically realistic, no way to survive.

[beckkii]

forever thinking about the slow descent of big shot spamton. the way his glitches start off as his typical small quirk but soon become something worse and sinister as off putting phrases come in, more often as well, weirding out (and worrying) those around him. the way he’s found oftentimes either completely zoned out or muttering to himself for minutes on end, only to say to others that he’s “just distracted.” the way his once cheery and bustling room in the mansion goes empty and dark as he spends all his time in the basement, so much so that swatch and the swatchlings immediately head there first thing in the morning to kick him out, only to find him rambling lost in prayer and screeching as he’s carried away

anyways. why don’t ppl talk about spamton’s slow descent into insanity. i wanna talk about spamton’s slow descent into insanity

[kookookachu]

we can all pretend it’s still october okay? okay? awesome? i have another thing with vamp bruce that i was doing. can we just pretend forever?

[sunsetsandsunshine]

AAAHHH REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

So proud of you for powering through your requests and wips of your own!!! You did SUCH A FANTASTIC JOB AT BY THE WAY!!!! oh my gosh!! Your creativity inspires me A HECK OF A LOT EMERY! 🫶🫶💙💙💙💙

I thought I'd might as well send you a request! (No pressure, and absolutely no need for a rush!)

Maybe something that is Halloween themed for rottmnt? Maybe they're decorating for Halloween and Mikey or Leo seems to have a disagreement with certain decorations that the rest of the Hamato brothers seem to have no problems with? Resulting in normal brother banter, but it soon turns into one of them declaring a "tickle fight"?

One of them could be like "how about we settle this with a tickle fight!" and since Mikey or Leo is the only one who has a disagreement with the decor, one of them just get ganged up on, and eventually it rules out to them loosing since it's literally a 1v3? 😭😭

I don't know! I just thought of it, but of course no pressure in writing it if it's too confusing! 🙏🙏

~ 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚔𝚒𝚗 ~

❤️💜🐢💙🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @saturnzskyzz ❤️💜🐢💙🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚆𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 🥹💗💕💗💕💗!!! 𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙸𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙾 𝚂𝙾 𝙷𝙰𝙿𝙿𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙺 𝚈𝙾𝚄??? 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸’𝚖 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 😵‍💫🫶🏾…! 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚍-𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘…𝚢𝚘𝚞 😭👍🏾— 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝚁𝙾 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾?! 𝚂𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙳˚*• ̩̩͙•̩̩͙*✩＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟸𝟸𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙 

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️, 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 (𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠), 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

T𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348  @itzsana-kiddingmenow 

@giggly-cloud  @savemeafruitjuice  @rice-cake-teen10

@titters-and-tingles @veryblushyswitch @tmntalways  @mistyandsnow

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚕. 𝙸𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎, 𝚐𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 🕺🏾✨

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚢 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚓𝚜𝚓𝚜𝚖𝚜𝚓𝚍𝚑𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!!!˚*•✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Move it to the left! No…your other left! …Donnie, I just said your other left!!!” Raph yelled. 

“I don’t have 'an other left!' Are you trying to tell me that you want me to use my right hand?!” Donnie asked, irritation abundantly clear in his tone. 

“NO! I KNOW WHAT I SAID!!! WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO IS USE YOUR OTHER LEFT!!” Raphael basically screamed.

“I. DON’T. KNOW. WHAT. THAT. MEANS!!!” Donatello screeched back. 

“Oh for crying out—“ The eldest sighed, “Give it here.” The taller turtle snatched the Coraline themed paper cut out’s from his younger brother, getting tape and sticking them to the wall. 

Raph stepped out a bit, looking at where he had placed the paper cut out’s before letting out a huff of satisfation, putting his hands on his hips, “See? Now was that so hard?” 

The purple banded turtle’s eye twitched slightly, turning to his older brother and giving him a quickly glare as he put the excess decorations away, “You used your right hand to place that decoration, dumbass.” 

The eldest blinked in confusion at his brother’s statement, doing an L-shape with both of his fingers as a small embarrassed blush appeared on his cheeks, “I see...” 

The young scientist rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head as he threw away the remainder of the paper, “You see—”

“I aham stopping you right there. Please dohon’t Dhar Man lihife lesson me right now…”

“You see…” The softshell continued, his grin widening as he heard a loud groan come from his older brother, “You should always listen to your immediate younger brother because he is just so intelligent and just so far beyond the usual intellect of the average fifteen year old.” 

The red banded turtle nodded his head, trying his best not to laugh at his brother’s silly antic’s. 

It was currently October and there was lots of spookiness in the air. Although it was literally just the 1st day of October, there was still freshly new spookiness in the atmosphere.

More or less, anyway...

The turtle teen’s were setting their lair to be a…sort of Halloween themed aesthetic. 

Did their Dad know they were basically re-decorating the whole lair? No. But he’ll just have to deal with it. 

Last year they did The Nightmare before Christmas.

The year before that they did the Corpse Bride…

…And, well…you get the idea. The rat man should be used to this routine by now.

The two eldest turtle’s looked at each other for a minute before bursting out into small laughs, chuckling at each other’s ridiculousness, “Okahay…remind me toho never doho ahanother Dhar Mann impression.” Donnie giggled out. 

“Ahalright, Dhahar Mann fam.” The eldest snickered as the two youngest turtle’s entered the living room. 

“Ew. Why did we choose Coraline as this year’s Halloween theme again?” Leo muttered, squinting at the choice of decorations in a disgusted manner, “I mean…the blue hair and pronouns girl? Love that. But can’t we just save that one for Pride month or something?” 

Raphael put a hand over his mouth, turning around and trying not to laugh as Donnie and Mikey looked at the red eared slider in confusion. 

“That’s Coraline, you idiot.” The box turtle muttered out.

“Wait…THAT’S Coraline?! What about the lady with the spider arms and looks like Jim Carrey from The Mask?”

Raphael loudly wheezed in the background at his brother’s genuine confusion, clutching his side and holding onto the kitchen counter for dear life as he laughed.

“That’s…That’s her Mom, man.” Mikey said. 

The slider blinked in awe before letting out a long sigh, “Whatever…”

The blue banded turtle went to the wall, taking off some of the Coraline cut out’s that Mikey put up and replaced them with Charlie Brown ones. 

“Charlie Brown? Really?” Donnie deadpanned as he crossed his arms.

“Yes!” Leo said, “It’s the Great Pumpkin! He rises out of the pumpkin patch—“

“We’re familiar with the tale, Nardo.” The second oldest interrupted, “But…just why? You seriously want to put up an imaginary pumpkin over Coraline…?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” 

The scientist just rolled his eyes, going over to help Raph who was currently dying of laughter on the floor, “You do you brother of mine.”

“Oho I beg to differ.” Michelangelo seethed, going up to his immediate older brother, “I worked hard on those Coraline paper cut outs! You can’t just…replace them with some pumpkin from the 1960’s!”

Leonardo looked at his youngest brother up and down, “…You bought these from the dollar store and just dumped glitter on it.” 

“EXACTLY! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO EVENLY DISTRIBUTE ALL THE GLITTER ON EACH CORALINE PIECE?!”

Leo hummed in acknowledgment, trying to take off more of the decorations but was basically jumped by Mikey to the floor. The two youngest playfully fought with each other’s arms, both of them trying to get the upper hand in the play-fight. “Hehey heHEY! Gehehet ohoff of me yohou overgrown frog!” Leo giggled out. 

“Oh dohon’t even, Leheheon. When yohou wear glahasses yohou look lihike that oddly proportioned 'brohother' of ours thahat’s aha disgrace to ahall turtle-kind.” The box turtle said smugly. 

“…ARE YOU COMPARING ME TO THAT UGLY ASS FRANKLIN GUY?!”

“I AM AND WHAT ABOUT IT?!”

“Oho you’re done. Done.” Leo growled, trying to get the upper hand but was pinned down by the youngest pretty quickly on the ground. The orange banded turtle grinned in triumph, brutally attacking the other by tickling his underarms.

Leo let out a loud squawk in surprise, pushing at his brother’s wrists as he clamped his mouth shut. He shook his head back and forth, trying his absolute best not to satisfy the youngest in his attack. 

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t. fucking. laugh. 

“Woah. We left for, like, 5 minutes tops. What happened?” The purple banded turtle asked as him and the eldest walked into the scene up-roaring in front of them. 

“Leo said my Coraline paper cut outs were cheap and ugly!” The youngest dramatically whined, wiping away a tear before skittering his fingers along the slider’s ribs. 

Okay, well first of all: Leo never said that. Did they look cheap? Yes. Did he think that the DIY decorations looked cheap? Oho absolutely. 

But the fact of the matter was he never said it out loud! He thought it but he never said it.

“Damn…he hasn’t started laughing yet? He would usually be squirming like a drunk mermaid right about now.” Raphael mused, poking Leo in the side repeatedly as the second youngest closed his eyes shut. “We know you wanna laugh, Leo~!” The eldest sing-songed. 

The second youngest let out a soft snort, continuing to shake his head as his legs kicked behind Mikey. Donatello raised an unamused brow, sitting down and lightly grabbing the slider’s right ankle as he tickled his heel.

“PFFTAHAH— *snort* dahAHAMMIT!” Leo screeched as he finally let out a laugh whilst stomping his free foot on the floor. The three teens tormenting their brother smiled at the long overdue flood of giggles and snorts that was escaping the slider’s mouth.

“There it is~!” Raph cooed softly, tickling under Leo’s chin as the second youngest blushed slightly at the tease. “GOHO *snort* AWAHAHAY YOHOU AHASS— *snort*!!” 

“GASP! Oh no you did not. Cussing us out now? C'mon, Nardo…you know better than that~!” The second oldest mused, using his spider arms to hold the blue banded turtle’s ankles in place as he tickled all over his feet. Leonardo laugh raised an octave at the sudden action, squirming underneath the youngest more frantically. 

The blue banded teen snorted loudly, his hands flapping on the floor which absolutley melted the other’s hearts, “GUHUHUYS S-STAHAP! IHIHIT— *snort* EHEHEHAH!!! IHIT TIHI— *snort*!!” 

“Awe…it tickles? Is that what you’re trying to say~?” Mikey asked mischeivously, pinching Leo’s hips mercilessly. Raphael grinned, holding the slider’s arms up as he tickled his stomach and sides. “Does iiiiit…tickle here? Orrrr…what about here? Here? And heeeere~?” The eldest asked as he unpredictably switched from tickling the blue banded teen’s stomach to his sides, definitely making sure to leave the leader in blue in stitches.

“Y'know, Lee…you could get out of this situation more easily if you just apologized.” The young scientist commented.

“FAHAH— *snort* FOHOR WHAHA— *snort* WHAHAT?!” Leonardo asked through his laughs.

“What do you mean 'fohor whahat?' For insulting Mikey’s precious art and calling it cheap!” Donatello said as if the answer should’ve been obvious. 

“BUHUT IHI DIHIHIDN’T!!! HEEHEE’S A *snort* LIHIHIAR!!!”

All the other turtle’s gasped dramatically, ceasing their attack momentarily as the box turtle glared at his brother playfully, “Oho I’m sorry…I didn’t quite hear you. What did you just call me?”

The lime-green eyed teen’s heart dropped at the fake sweet tone his younger brother was speaking in, he hugged his middles as more frantic giggles poured from out of his mouth, “N-Noho— *snort* NOHO! Ihi— *snort* I-Ihi dihidn’t meeheean IHIT! M-MIHIKEY WAHAHAIT!”

“And now you’re laughing at me. You must think this is funny, huh?” The orange banded turtle asked as he effortlessly pushed Leo’s hands aside as Raph casually held them up again. The eldest used one hand to hold Leo’s wrists together but wiggled his free hand near the second youngest’s neck. 

The blue cladded teen’s eyed widened, silently praying to God that he wouldn’t go to the golden gates early because of what was about to happen to him. 

Donnie hovered his hands over Leo’s knees as Mikey’s hands innocently and gently traced over his immediate older brother’s sides. The lime-green eyed mutant gulped, glaring at Mikey as the youngest happily glared back. 

“Anything you wanna say to me, Leon? Anything in particular?” The box turtle asked. 

“F-Fuhuhuck. yohou.” Leo giggled through gritted teeth.

After that extremely rude remark, the brother’s wasted no time tickling the second youngest into oblivion. Donnie tickled underneath his knees, Mikey scribbled his nails against the slider’s sides as he blew raspberries on his stomach, and finally, Raph tickled his neck as he held up his arms.

A pretty smart tactic if you ask me. A mean one? Oh 100%, but at least it was effective. 

Leonardo let out a screechy vulture-like scream before falling into loud bubbly cackles. The slider shook his head back and forth once more, squirming as best he could in the position he was in. 

“Awe…” Raphael chuckled out, letting go of his brother’s wrists to let him flap his hands happily on Michelangelo’s arms. 

“STAHAHAP!! PLEHEHEASE *snort* IHIHIT’S *snort* TOOHOO— *snort* NAHAHAH!!!”

“Buhut Ihi want my apology!” Mikey giggled. 

“MIHIKAHA— *snort*!!! SHUHUT IHIHIT!!!”

“Don’t you dare disobey me, Coraline~!” Raph snickered, using both of his hands to tickle the crooks of the second youngest’s neck. Leo’s adorable laughter became wheezy as happy tears slowly started appearing in his eyes, “DAHAHAH— *snort* RAHAH— *snort* PLAHAHA *snort* EEEEEE!!!”

“IHIHI’M SAHARRY! IHI’M SAHA— *snort*! GUHUHUYS!!!” The slider snorted as he scrunched up his shoulders. 

Mikey hummed in thought, blowing a raspberry on his immediate older brother’s ribs, “Are you apologizing for insulting my crafts or are you apologizing for cussing us out?”

“BAHAH— *snort* BOHOTH! BOHOHOTH!!! PLAHA— *snort* GUHUYS!!”

“Okahay okay…” Michelangelo giggled, gesturing for his older brother’s to stop. The red eared slider mutant layed limp on the floor, curling in on himself as his brother’s sat next to him. The art loving turtle wrapped his brother in a tight hug which the second youngest couldn’t help but melt in through his tired giggles.

“Are you guys alright?! I heard screaming.” April quickly said as she walked into the lair, carrying a grocery bag full of candies and treats. The mutants almost immediately perked up at the sound of their sister’s arrival, going over and attacking her in huge bear hug.

The small human giggled at the gesture, hugging her brother’s back. “I’ll take that as a 'we’re fine and not dying a gruesome death.'” She concluded as she got out of the hug to put the candy bag down on the kitchen counter. “I mean…why was there screaming, though? I honestly thought you all were getting brutally murdered…”

Donnie raised a brow, looking over at his twin, “Wanna give April the inside scoop of what went down, Nardo?”

“I’m good.” The red eared slider said as he stuck a tongue out at his older twin, which the purple banded turtle had no problem copying back.

“Leo said my decorations were cheap and ugly.” The youngest said with dramatic flair, pointing at his Coraline cut-out’s. April’s eyed widened in shock, biting down her lip as he nodded, looking away from her youngest brother’s creation. “It looks great, Mike.” She giggled out, going to the kitchen counter to take out the candy as she was happily followed by Raphael.

“Woah woah!!! Get back here! I heard that laugh, Riri!” The orange banded turtle screeched, following along the elder siblings to the kitchen as he was followed by the middle siblings.

In all honesty…perhaps the Coraline themed Halloween decor wasn’t the worst idea’s Leo’s brother’s have had. 

Leonardo could always make a Great Pumpkin Halloween theme next year.

But that did not stop the leader in blue from sticking the pumpkin sticker he had on his pouch on the youngest’s shell without anyone noticing.

Well, besides Donnie— who chuckled lighlty at the gesture as the two twins made their way to the kitchen.

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

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

[padawansuggest]

I really hate pining with all my heart, so here’s an idea: CodyWan who fall in love within the first month of meeting each other and hold hands and give hugs and little nuzzles and everyone else is like ‘yeah. Cody and the General. They sure are friendly…’ but no one says it to them till they overhear it one day and straight up go ‘we got married on month two of dating’ and everyone loses their minds they thought they were in a ‘everyone but them knows they’re married’ AU but they’re actually in a ‘speedrun strangers to old married couple’ AU and they’re so confused.