#tiny writing

[frogs-in-my-tea]

He used to be blue.

The most oceanic blue he had ever seen. And the threading of green algae swirling with the waves Percy Jackson’s eyes held was obsessing, sickening, addictive.

Staring too long at them made him seasick, the need to pour out his deepest, darkest feelings to the boy he idolized so much was almost wrecking.

But Nico didn’t budge.

He chose to sit tight, away from everyone else, and stare at their joy. He watched as they laughed, as they cheered, as they were praised, as they showed love. Suddenly, solitude became his only comfort, as looking at the way they cared for each other, Nico held true he would never receive such affection.

When he lost the blueish green he never truly had to a woman, he became frozen. A stinging iciness that hardened his heart, he could never be vulnerable again.

Crying for the family he once had, for the blue he once glorified, toughened his shell. Nico internalized the other’s depictions of him, his eyes were shallow, his attitude was harsh, his words were intimidating, his presence was darkness itself. Because being feared was better than showing weakness. And emotions were his biggest weakness.

The Nico who once wept for everything was long gone, he had accepted his eternal suffering and learned to live with the icy cold reality, to put it to good use. After all, if he was truly cursed to lose and lose and lose, then what was the point of rebelling? Of ever having someone?

At least his actions pleased his favorite sea green eyes. Knowing Nico was useful to him was enough. If he couldn’t have them for himself then that was as far as he could get.

But then the sun came.

Dawn crept up from the longest winter night he had ever experienced. A light he thought he would never see again.

Being trapped for so long in the void of the night sky, as the farthest star longing for company. Looking at the sun was a feat he thought imposible, but there it was.

Nico realized too late that the sun was a star as well, and he was forcefully pulled into its orbit. But it felt like it was meant to be, like they were meant to be.

The only difference between him and Will Solace was that Will shone brighter. Because he was open, because he was strong. Will was his guiding light, showing Nico the outside, like Orpheus who had stubbornly traversed the underworld so he could lead his lover to the mortal world, to his reality.

Nico’s own world was painted golden. Golden like those beautiful blonde curls. Painted like sketchy freckles for constellations. Handled by a different set of blue eyes.

Looking at them wasn’t sea-sickening, what invaded him instead was the warmest sensations he had ever experienced. To be able to love and trust.

Instead of oceans, he saw summer skies.

And Nico became golden too.

[aealzx]

“Hey. Where’s Leo and Donnie?”

Raph’s question came from behind Mikey and Casey, who were squished together on the couch with a book between them. It looked like some museum art book at a glance, but Raph was more concerned for his missing brothers.

“Uhhhhh… it’s jazz night,” Mikey answered, as though it were obvious, head tilted back to look up at Raph.

It made sense, but Raph could only furrow his brow. “.... It’s raining,” he pointed out. The faint drum of thick droplets pelting the street above being accentuated by a boom of thunder.

“...And?” Mikey asked, not seeing what the problem was. Unlike him, the rest of his brothers loved being in the rain.

“Did Leo bring his knee brace?” Raph asked this time, raising a brow pointedly.

“Oooouuuhhhhhh……. No,” Mikey’s mouth formed a wide circle in realization of what Raph was getting at, shrinking his head almost into his shell in embarrassment at missing that small but important detail.

“I think it’s in the kitchen,” Casey offered, a sheepish smile trying to unnecessarily placate Raph by being helpful.

Raph could only heave a sigh before heading towards the storage area. “I’ll see if I can scrounge up where they’ve hoarded the heat pads,” he huffed, knowing that both his brothers would be whining as soon as they stopped moving for more than ten minutes.

_________________________________

My YT favs slapped me in the face with an electro swing song right after I finished a different drawing, so I ended up drawing this out since it seemed fun and the video was so kind to provide refs XD

And then when I was flat coloring I thought hey why not make it raining? And then had the random story snippet pop into my head while adding rain XD

For those who are blessed to not know, rain and other shifts in weather can cause healed injuries to ache.

[emberintayson]

An interactive minizine of quotes about self knowledge. It’s hard to write this small!

[starweavingwritings]

Tangled Webs

Careful to remove her heels before reentering the Winthrope Manor bordering the boundary of Elwynn and Redridge, Saedre crept quietly back to her quarters in the still of the night. Her bare feet made silent contact with the smooth, marble floors, welcoming the cool touch after yet another heated evening she spent with that silver tongued pirate somewhere in the dense shadows of Duskwood. Perhaps it was against her better judgement to have a bit of fun with one of her colleagues even if there was no emotional attachment to it, but the excitement outweighed any potential risks. Sivero was good at making her forget her troubles when the two collided behind closed doors. Putting others first often in the years she had led the Violet Bastion and in the aftermath of the losses incurred, only increased the amount of time that it had been since she engaged in time for her own needs. 

Letting herself into her room, Saedre closed the door as quietly as she could and leaned against it for a moment as her eyes moved to the partially opened window allowing beams of moonlight to slip in; their silvery touch illuminating certain portions of the room. Closing her eyes, she listened to the melody of the night beyond that window; crickets chirping in the grass while an owl or two called somewhere off in the distance. The soft drawing in of the breeze from outside reminded her of the way the trees in the garden seemed to dance on a spring day; the foliage rustling ever so gently as cherry blossoms drifted about. It brought back the memory of laughter and closeness she spent with someone she still held close to her heart; try as she may to avoid returning down that path again.

Being brought back to the old grounds where she headed her former institution had its way of stirring up memories she was not quite prepared to confront and she was especially not prepared to confront them this evening. Perhaps it had everything to do with inviting Mason back into her life in hopes of seeing a sense of purpose restored to the man after she had learned the life she had hoped he would gain without her, he surely did not. She couldn’t shake the memory of a light extinguished behind those warm eyes that were determined to hide it behind a smile. The years between had not been kind to either of them it had appeared, and Saedre had lived oh too long enough to pick up on these things keenly. 

Pushing her fingers back through her tangled silvery strands, Saedre sighed and pushed herself from the door. The more she looked about her surroundings, the more she felt that she no longer really belonged here and perhaps it was time to formally move her dwellings to the Raven’s Nest. Tossing her cloak aside, the garment seemed to take on its own presence and guided itself to settle upon a hook on the wall. Everything had its place and yet many items that now surrounded Saedre were no longer her own. The devastation of Dalaran ensured that. 

Making her way to the washroom, Saedre began her ritual of winding down for the night. Sleep may elude her into the waking hours of a new day, but she would be a fool to not try. 

Oh, the webs we weave and somehow find ourselves becoming the prey.

@masonkohler for mentions!

[deathofacupid]

gojo's relationship with sleep was… complicated. he seemed to view it as an optional activity, like flossing or paying taxes. you, on the other hand, considered sleep a sacred ritual, and dragging him to bed felt like trying to convince a hyperactive hummingbird to take a nap.

"psst," he whispered, loud enough to be heard in the next apartment. "hey."

you groaned, pretending to be a particularly heavy sleeper.

"hey," he repeated, poking your shoulder. you swatted his hand away, a silent leave me alone conveyed through the power of sleepy aggression.

"sweetheart. darling. my bestest friend. my favorite person in the entire universe. sugar-plum. chickadee. kitten-kins. schnukapussy."

"what?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

"do you want to play a game? like, a card game or something?"

"what?" you repeated, your brain still trying to process the concept of coherent sentences. "it's the middle of the night. why are you awake?"

"i'm bored. my brain won't shut up. it's like a radio stuck between stations."

"and you thought waking me up would fix that? now we're both going to be miserable," you grumbled, turning over.

"…so, about that game?" he asked, sounding genuinely hopeful.

you stared at him, resisting the urge to express your frustration with a well-placed pillow. "this is what happens when you eat a whole bag of candy before bed. you turn into a nocturnal gremlin."

he shrugged. "oops."

"don't 'oops' me. i'm trying to sleep."

"but you're awake now," he pointed out, with infuriating logic.

"that's not the point!" you sighed, pulling the covers over your head.

he gave you a look that said, "please? with a cherry on top?" and, against your better judgment, you caved. you sighed, pulling him closer. "fine. no games. but i'll do the hair thing. the one that makes you sleepy."

he settled against you, all warm and impossibly comfortable. "until i'm asleep?"

"yes," you said, keeping you eyes trained on him. "until you're asleep."

as you ran your hands through his white locks, he was out in minutes, snoring softly. you smiled, finally feeling yourself drift off.

then, just as you were about to fall asleep, your brain decided to stage a revolt. wide awake. you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you could convince gojo to share his ability to function on zero sleep. to say the least, this would be a long night.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

"top shortage" "bottom shortage" babe im EXHAUSTED

[unifybullseye]

Nights after the engine room

[dollyfetti]

katsuki thinks it's fucking crazy whenever you get cuteness aggression from him-- a large, brawny, 6'2 boulder who isn't "cute" in any sense!

he may not openly admit it, but he adores when you excitedly rush into the shared bedroom where he's reading on his kindle, glasses perched on his nose. your face radiates with lovey dovey affection as you enter his space. and he loves it even more when you set aside his kindle and climb into his lap, covering his face in sweet smoochies. you wrap your arms around his thick neck and squeeze his body close. you adorably squeal, "missed you so much baby..!", filling up the room (and his swelling heart). you pull back to glance at his face where you're met with an uncharacteristic expression of fluster from your boyfriend.

"...my cutieee!!" you giggle, snuggling into him once more.

and the blond can't even say anything beyond a bashful, "love ya, sweets" cuz he just can't fathom the amount of joy he feels when you express your love for him.

[saltymarshmall0w]

beatdown buddies

(You always read fics where the pit is instantly calmed by Danny’s presence, but what if it didn’t?)

Now, you have to understand, that Jason was long past attacking strangers in a blind fury. The Bats? Sure, all the time--- but he was working on that.

This particular scrawny, possibly-homeless stranger hadn’t done anything more than simply exist in Jason’s proximity. If it was any other Crime Alley resident, Jason would be much more likely feel a surge of protectiveness.

This guy though– he was different.

Locking toxic-green eyes to toxic-green eyes made the pit in his skin violently react. Before he knew it, he was hitting the guy with everything he had, and the guy was hitting back.

The groceries Jason had left his apartment to get spilled all over the ground as the two rolled.

Pulled hair, split knuckles, and bruised bodies, the guy’s fist hit Jason’s jaw for the umpteenth time, cracking his head back and making him look at the gloomy sky.

They only used their fists. Jason could feel the familiar ghost of weapons hidden under the other guy’s hoodie, but neither pulled their hidden weapons.

Despite it all, Jason and the guy shared blood-tinged smiles. Blood boiled under his skin in an exciting trill. He was angry, and it was fantastic.

He’s pretty sure he just made a new best friend.

Someone hit Jason’s back with what could distinctly be identified as a broom. He vaguely heard the sound of yelling around him, but Jason’s only focus was getting his next hit in.

Eventually, they were stopped by a familiar shade of blue and black. Strong arms pulled him off the stranger and pinned his arms down, locking their arms over his chest to prevent Jason from getting free.

“You need to calm down!” Dickwing’s voice lectured in his ear. “You’re going to kill him!”

Surprisingly, Jason settled in Dick’s hold, fight and anger drained out of him in the space of a breath. The fire under his skin didn’t keep flaming and flaming and building it just– stopped.

“Oh, Please.” The stranger was grinning widely, despite the model of developing bruises and cuts across his face. A burly man who Jason vaguely recognized worked at the store they were standing right in front of was both holding up and holding back the guy. “We were just saying ‘Hi’.”

The guy made eye contact with Jason. Blue, no hints of green anywhere. The guy winked. “Danny.”

Frankly, Jason couldn’t quite explain his actions. He felt stupidly chastized by Nightwing’s patented older brother stare of disappointment. Apparently, the guy couldn’t explain his actions either, as he disappeared the instant no one’s eyes were on him.

-

Jason arrived an hour early to Wayne Sunday family dinner. He missed cooking alongside Alfred, and offered his help.

He let Dick wrap an arm around his shoulder for a few seconds as a welcome. He didn’t seethe at Bruce simply being there. He chose to sit between Tim and the Demon brat when it looked like new fratricide plans were being drawn up by the younger.

The pit didn’t scream under his skin to hurt. Little things didn’t set him off, making him have to leave early. He wasn’t tempted to throttle anyone for existing around him.

The pit was just… quiet. Peaceful even. Well, as peaceful as it could get in the Wayne household.

It was a massive improvement compared to six months ago— hell, compared to last month.

He shrugged off inquiries about his black eye, citing it would heal quickly anyway.

-

Jason should have known he wasn’t safe.

Sure, he was on a roof one could only grapple to, across the city from crime alley, and dressed up as Red Hood.

However, Danny always reappeared periodically like a well-timed extremely therapeutic punching bag.

One moment, Jason was looking down over the streets of Gotham the next, he was being flying-kicked by a lithe frame. Something instantly recognized Danny so, rather the putting a bullet in him, Jason picked himself back up into a crouch and lunged at Danny.

“Hood? Hood what’s going on?” Someone called in his ear— Oh, right he had connected comms with his family that night.

Danny stopped suddenly, straddling Jason’s stomach, one hand fisting his collar, the other posed to strike. He blinked. glowing green eyes turned blue. “You’re not like, busy doing vigilante stuff, are you?” He asked.

Every bruise and cut from their last fight was gone, his baby face appeared as though it had never been punched in his life, making him look all the more punchable.

“Nope.” Jason answered, driving an elbow into the kid’s stomach and in the same motion ripped the comm out of his ear to toss it to the side.

Minutes later Danny was pulled off him, and the fire under his skin died down.

He blinked back into his surroundings to find himself on a rooftop with half of Gotham’s vigilantes standing in a circle around him, an unease that he could only read because he was so familiar with them written in all of their body languages. Batman held Danny slightly behind himself, keeping a firm grasp on the guy so he couldn’t escape.

“You claimed the rage was getting better.” Bruce stated in the way that meant he was supposed to answer his unasked questions..

Jason waited for rage and indignance to rise up in him, but rather he just considered that Bruce saw glowing green eyes and a brutal beat down and made a logical leap.

“It has!” Jason argued anyway. He sniffed and ran a hand under his slightly bleeding nose. It didn’t sting enough to be broken. “I haven’t lost my cool in months.”

“That’s what he has me for!” Danny chimed happily. His nose was broken, but Danny didn’t seem to mind the twin streaks of blood running down his face. “We’re friends with Benefits. It’s always healthy to have a little dead-guy on dead-guy action. You guys should really fight with him more often, his ectoplasm is rank.”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC My Brother in the Mirror

Damian doesn't like mirrors.

He never mentioned the fact to other members of the family, but they are detectives and vigilantes, it's their job to be observant. Which, after so many years, becomes a habit.

Damian doesn't actively avoid the mirrors - he has a mirror in his bathroom, he didn't express any discomfort over going into a mirror labyrinth at some carnival they've attended (he expressed disgust over taking part in something so stupid, in his words, but that's a whole another story), and he actually spent a few minutes in front of the funhouse mirrors when no one was looking, watching his own reflection distort in various ways. He also has no problems with his self-image - he doesn't mind pictures of him taken at any time (unless it's Tim, but that's, again, a whole another story), he's drawn a few self-portraits that were rather accurate and he liked them.

He just doesn't like mirrors. For some reason.

His family, both close and extended, never questioned it. They did some gentle research to see if the dislike was caused by some kind of problem Damian was experiencing without telling anyone, but when they found no proof of that, they've just decided it was some quirk of his. Everyone has quirks. Dick doesn't like eating cereal like a normal person, Tim despises sleep, Steph is at war with any color other than purple.

That is, until one day, Tim witnesses Damian sitting in front of a mirror.

He is not even aware of it - the whole family is having a game night, and through some arguments and rearrangements on the couch, Damian ends up sitting on the left side of it, where his back is turned to one of the three mirrors in the room. Tim, who's lost the last round, is slumping in an armchair nearby, pointedly looking away from the screen where Damian and Jason are enthusiastically competing over the first place in Mario Cart. Of course, Tim can't just not watch it since he needs to know their strategies. But turning back around would also be admitting defeat.

The solution? Easy, watch the screen through the mirror.

Which is when he notices it.

Damian in the mirror doesn't act the same as Damian in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim can see the real Damian moving around, shoving Jason with his elbow, fully concentrated on the game, and yelling something. Damian-in-the-mirror is sitting unnaturally still, the back of his head over the couch unmoving.

Tim forgets all about the game when Damian's reflection starts to turn around. Slowly and carefully, eerie in the way the horror movies are, the boy in the mirror turns his head around like an owl, his neck twisting inhumanely.

His eyes are green. Green like the toxic waste, like Jason's madness, like acid in cartoons, like the Waters of Lazarus.

Damian in the mirror smiles, his unblinking, gliwing eyes fixed on Tim, and his teeth are sharp and pointy, and there are too many of them, humans can't smile this wide.

"-im? Tim!" A hand nudges him in the shoulder, and Tim looks away from the mirror, finding Dick standing over him. The noise of the game room returns all at once, and, wait, when did it become quiet for Tim?.. He must have a strange expression on his face because Dick's easy smile falls slightly, and he frowns, "Is everything okay?"

Tim looks back to the mirror, but the green-eyed boy in the mirror is gone, and the mirror only reflects Damian as he is: sitting on the couch.

"Yeah," Tim shakes his head and forces a smile on his lips, "I just zoned out."

"Okay," Dick pats him on the shoulder and gives him the controller, "It's your turn now."

Tim takes the controller and turns around, facing the screen. Tim throws a quick glance at Damian, who had slid down on the couch so his head would not be in the reflection anymore. Tim sees the cold, warning hint to his eye, a clear do not speak of it message.

Tim doesn't like that the mirror is now behind him.

[bluerosefox]

Prom Invite

Wanna know what would be funny.

DeadTired Prom story.

Like no really hear me out.

As a bet or a dare or just Danny deciding to shoot his shot, Danny asks Tim Drake-Wayne to Casper's High Senior Prom via social media. He honestly thinks it will NEVER happen because come on its the internet and stuff.

But what if, what if Tim whose had an argument with Bruce or something and wanting to have some normal fun again before he became CO-CEO of WE or Red Robin see's the @ Danny sent him and decides you know what.

WHY THE HECK NOT?!

Danny wasn't expecting the guy to show up on prom night to pick him.

[puppetslooselystrung]

little comic i made bc i found out abt the fact that molting is a thing.. bugs are so cool

[finallychaoticeffigy]

Yandere Mr.Hugeface x reader

"Huh? Where's Mr. Crawling?" You asked yourself feeling confused as to why he suddenly disappeared. A few moments ago he was with you , with long dark hair falling on his figure ,following you around like a lost puppy.

'Oh well....let's still carry on , You still have to find an exit' You turned to an empty looking room and let yourself in.

It has been a long time since you were transported to this weird world you're currently in. When you wake up you find your face flat on a dirty floor. It's not bad though, you wouldn't call them humans, but creatures here are not that bad. Except when you do something that they don't like they do tend to go crazy. That's why you're so careful.

You were wandering around the hallway lost in thought. "Cute!! ...Cute !!" someone shouts. You turned around...Nothing. 'Huh? Was i imagining that?'

"Cute ! Cute !! Pet !!" This time you instantly snap your head above and found where the voice came from.

Your eyes stared at the thing. Your Instincts are telling you to run, run away !. You turned, bolted at the other side of direction as his massive hands attempted to grab your smaller form. Slowly reaching to get you as you dash, running for your life.

It was too late. You felt a hand grabbing your waist, lifting you into thin air. "Let me go you huge face " you began hitting his hand, even though you know it's practically useless as he was 100x stronger than you, you knew you still had to try.

No..You can't waste any of your precious time here. You have places to be. Things to do . You have to escape this place as soon as possible, but how are you gonna do that now. Ok..you began to think. Let's just think of an escape plan for now.

You're now face to face. His eyes carefully observe you from head to toe. He leaned down and curiously took a lick like you were some desert to taste.

You suddenly shrieked as you felt a wet sticky sensation. His tongue is warm, kind of like your hand after holding a mug of hot cocoa "Hey don't lick me !" You protest and use your free arm to protect your face from his tongue attack. You were now sitting on his palm balancing ,afraid to fall.

"Cute! So small ! So cute ! Mine ! You're Mine !" He chanted , his tongue expertly moved licking your face down to your ankle. Whenever it makes contact with you, it feels soft but heavy ,like a big, damp sponge sliding across your body.

His teeth unexpectedly without notice suddenly clenched your dress. "Wait ! Don't you dare !" You fought, gripping your clothes. He looks at you, and gives you a lopsided smile. " Why? You're mine ! I wanna see! Wanna taste !" He declares in his terrifying voice sending shivers down your spine.

He ripped your clothes off leaving you with your undergarments. Your hands are attempting to cover your halfnaked form. His tongue began to spread your legs slowly. You began to feel hot and wet. The sensation of his tongue licking you soft but strong was making you go crazy.

He stopped when his eyes caught between your spread legs. Pink underwear with a delicate pattern. "Hmm.. Something sweet coming here !" He muttered with visible excitement as he began to rapidly take a taste at your clothe pussy.

"Ahh..Hmmm Fuck" you moaned as his huge tongue slides between your legs moving up and down. This is so wrong, but feels good. You pondered hardly thinking . His other big giant fingers began rubbing your chest as he laps you like a giant dog.

You felt like bursting from how vigorously this giant is licking you. Just then you felt yourself tighten, you shudder as you felt a warm tingling sensation. "Mhhm Ahhh" you moaned at your release. What just happened? You questioned yourself, this experience was absolutely gonna hunt you for the rest of your life.

Panting heavily you look up wet dripping. "Now let me go you motherfuxker" you mumbled too tired to put any strength at your words.

He tilted his head grinning, clearly enjoying the view, clearly enjoying seeing you weak because of him especially. "Baby Y/n.. Not leave. Stay with me. Forever. Mmm?" He cooed and pressed a kiss on your stomach.

"No ! " you shouted , "I have to go back to where i came from !"

"Came from? Heaven?"

"No ! Not from fuckin above ! To my world ! Earth .. you hear me?."

"But...Angels only lived from heaven? Yeah? " He beamed, then suddenly his smile dropped and tightened his palm around you. " Me love you.. You not going anywhere.... Me keeping you"

Fuckmylife " you cursed

[caemidraws]

Symbolism info 4/?

[kittydoremi]

Commissioned some more art from the talented @smallpwbbles, this time from my Sonic and The Sol Flower fanfic/au! I love SonElise, and I wanted to make a fanfic with the giant/tiny trope with them ^^

(I need to update it, I haven't updated it in a while .-.)

I love how these sketches turned out so much! :D

[culticterror]

It's ok sweetie. There's nothing wrong with giving in. There's nothing wrong with being weak. There's nothing wrong with being empty. There's nothing wrong with being mindless. There's nothing wrong with letting go. There's nothing wrong with slipping away. There's nothing wrong. There's nothing wrong. It's ok sweetie.