#it's mainly silly

[emthimofnight]

Shadow is forward for once and Sonic (rightfully so) assumes he's dying

[wombrion]

[us-costco-official]

‘we need more problematic women’ you guys couldn’t handle yoko ono

[ruporas]

in a mood (ID in alt)

[yugiohz]

Dabi might keep his past a secret but the league definitely know he (used to have) siblings

[doctorsiren]

Was trying to come up with an outfit for Phoenix for the Mia Fey Trilogy AU because it’s lame if he’s just in the same outfit as Maya

Also funky tattoos because :3 I said so

Bonus: someone on YouTube asked me if I could actually draw him as Doctor Strange, so here we go

[thereseuwu]

Wawawawa, drew Apollon instead of doing my school work (It do be like that dkjasfds.) Also, drawing Apollon in a somewhat more modern time is fun! :^)))) (Idk, man... Idk)

[dandylovesturtles]

listen ok I know shit is dire in CAS land (by @somerandomdudelmao) but I had this stupid idea and it's a slow day at work and I type fast so here you go I didn't proofread this at all

I'm sorry I made it silly

Massive spoilers if you haven't read the new CAS update

...

"I can fix it," is a much easier thing to say than to do. Casey's thinking that as he takes long, quick strides through the lair, turning the problem over in his head as fast as he can. He hopes Uncle Tello can't hear the parts of his thoughts that are in a panic, but based on their conversation before he probably can.

Uncle Tello doesn't say anything about it, and Casey kind of wishes he would, just for the reassurance that he's still there.

He's so absorbed in his thoughts he doesn't notice Donnie (the younger Donnie, the physical Donnie) standing in front of him until it's too late and he's already collided with his back. Coffee spills everywhere, though thankfully it only splashes his plastron where he can't get burned.

Younger Donnie whirls, something distinctly murderous in his eye that feels so weird and wrong directed at Casey. It cools only slightly when Donnie processes it wasn't one of his brothers bumping into him, and somehow that feels just as weird, that Donnie has to readjust his feelings to accommodate the unfamiliarity. (He's not family, not to this Donnie.)

"Is something chasing you?" Donnie snaps.

"Uh... no-"

"Is there a fire?"

"No, but-"

"Do you need glasses?"

"I don't... think so?"

"Then watch where you're going!"

He spins on his heel and marches off, toward the kitchen to get more coffee, Casey assumes. For a moment he's left too off kilter and dumbfounded to remember what he was doing.

Then Uncle Tello's voice in his head startles him out of it. What just happened?

Oh, uh... I ran into the other version of you.

Ran into?

Literally. I spilled his coffee.

Ah, and he didn't take it well.

And Casey knows he shouldn't stop for this. Casey knows they may be on limited time and he has to fix this and Uncle Tello shouldn't have to listen to his whining about things that don't matter.

But he's been holding in so many feelings for so long and even if it's just in his head, hearing his uncle's (dad's) voice makes it rush out of him before he can stop it.

I don't think he likes me very much. I touched his shell the other day and he snapped at me. I got mad at him when he touched your tech and that made him mad, too. I don't know how to talk to him.

He doesn't really know how to talk to any of them, is the thing. It used to be the easiest thing in the world, and now it's a wall he hasn't yet learned how to scale.

He can feel his thoughts spiraling against his will. He doesn't have time for this, but the grief and the lack of sleep and the lack of easy affection are all mixing together with the weirdness of it all into a dangerous Molotov cocktail of emotions and he's not sure what will light the fuse.

Casey Jr, says Uncle Tello's voice.

Uncle Tello?

Do you want to see something really funny?

Casey can't help but make a strangled noise at the back of his throat, one that isn't a laugh but isn't a cry either. Something funny?

Yeah. Trust me, it'll be hilarious. Go to my lab.

Casey hesitates. He doesn't let me in there without him...

I feel confident I outrank him. Wait, how old is he?

Sixteen.

Ahhh, that explains it. I know I'm an absolute delight now, but at that age I could be a real pill.

It startles an actual laugh out of Casey. Without arguing further, he rushes to Donnie's lab, quick before he can finish brewing his coffee.

How do I get in?

Is this the subway?

Yeah.

Okay, there's a manual override for the voice lock hidden in one of the wall panels, should be... three to the left, middle of the door. Give that a good knock. Shave and a haircut~

Casey does as directed, and the panel slides back, revealing a flat, glossy keypad.

What's the access code? he asks, feeling like they're on some secret mission now. Maybe it doesn't fall into what people in this time consider normal, but to Casey this is standard stuff. He falls into the rhythm of it like a well loved song.

Oh one one four twenty one twenty seven, says Uncle Tello.

Casey punches it in and the door slides open. He slips inside and hits the button to close and lock the door behind him. Donnie still hasn't returned; the mission is proceeding as planned.

Wasn't that the code for one of the weapons lockers in the old- at base?

Yes, it was. Poor security protocol to reuse codes, I know, but I'm partial to that one.

What is it?

Atomic Lass's birth date. Uncle Tello pauses, then adds, Has he shown you any of the old Atomic Lass episodes of Jupiter Jim?

Uh, no...

Ah, continuing to fail my already low expectations, Teen Tello. Never mind, we'll worry about that later on.

Later on. Right, they shouldn't be doing this, they should be trying to fix Uncle Tello, they should be-

To my computer, Casey Jr! I can't type so you'll have to do it for me.

Uncle Tello's voice pulls him out of his reverie, and he hurries to do as he's told.

Uncle Tello walks him through passwords and then through navigating the OS. It's old and out of date compared to what they had in the future (Donatello's custom OS, better than the hacks at Apple and Microsoft, or so he said), but when Casey had called it old and out of date Donnie had gotten mad about that, too.

Ada Lovelace, this is old, says Uncle Tello's voice now, and incredibly Casey laughs again.

But they find what he's looking for and then input a series of commands into the command line. Casey isn't familiar with all of them, but if he had to guess, they just sent a video from late 2019 to every device in the lair.

Alright, mission accomplished, time to retreat, says Uncle Tello's voice, and he hurries out of the lab, just in time to hear a ping from the phone in his pocket.

He pulls it out and watches the video. It's Donnie, only slightly younger than the teen Casey now lives with, adjusting the camera before grinning and posing in front of it. He's in his lab, though a different one than the one here in the subway. He looks cocky.

He moves further back from the camera so his entire body is framed in its lens, then steps onto a skateboard. He glides in a circle for a moment, then jumps to try and do some kind of trick. Casey doesn't know the name of it, but what he does know is that Donnie's feet get caught in his board, and he ends up tumbling to the floor, crashing in an undignified heap, arms splayed out and face smooshed against the concrete.

It shouldn't be funny.

(It's pretty funny.)

It seems the others echo this sentiment, because suddenly Casey can hear laughter erupting from elsewhere in the lair.

"OMIGOSH! Barry, you gotta watch this!"

"HAHAHAHA BRO ATE SHIT!"

"Hah... Don't worry Donnie, I'm sure you'll get it next ti-hahahahaha!"

There's the sound of scurrying feet, and then Donnie slides into the hall, glaring at Casey who forgot he should be moving away from the crime scene.

"YOU!" he screeches.

Casey freezes. What is he supposed to say? What excuse does he have? The you in my head told me to do it? Yeah right.

Casey does the only sensible thing and turns to run.

Casey Jr?

Uncle Tello!?

What's happening now?

The other you is after me!

Oh. Well. Better run fast.

Casey turns on the speed, sprinting down the corridor and toward the only exit he knows, Donnie hot on his trail.

Why is every younger version of you so scary!?

Oh please, there's no way that scrawny, barely pubescent mess is scary. Have you ever heard his voice crack?

...Well, yeah...

See? Hilarious. And we didn't even have to pull up my browser history.

Okay, but none of this helped us fix anything.

Ah well. One problem at a time.

[teenagenutant]

short comic of a scene from 'all that i am has led to here', a very sweet hamato family sickfic!

[llolianarchives]

The Prefect and The Draconia

A short overview of the Ramshackle prefect and their strange (but kind) horned fellow friend: as seen through the eyes of outsiders.

(A/N: #Malleyuu notes with an OC but feel free to project. We're all delulu here ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ )

His Henchman is crazy.

Or at least, that's what Grim thinks when he's woken up at sunrise to Yue's bizarre ramblings. Something about the time being 1 AM, then fireflies at night, and a tall, horned figure – is what he takes from their babble amidst his own groans and pleas to return to sleep. He'd think them delirious from slumber, mumbling about another dream, if it weren't for the way Yue's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. Grim yields, in the end, for one of the many things he's learned about his reliable servant is that they can be awfully enthusiastic when it comes to this world's curiosities.

“He told me to call him whatever I want,” Yue continues, ruffling Grim's fur dry with a clean rag. Before he could insert magnificent ideas of his own, they beat him to it with a soft smile on their lips.

“I'm thinking of naming him Nyx: the personification of the night. What do you think?”

“What? Because he only shows up at night?” Like some wacky cryptid.

“Yup.”

He hears his henchman forgo the brush, letting it clatter loudly against the table.

“Hm... Nyx, huh...” Grim falls into thought, testing the name on his tongue like premium quality tuna. He doesn't even notice how Yue ties the striped ribbon around his neck. Triumphant, he turns to them with a grin.

“That's not half-bad, Henchman! It's cool and mysterious. Not as cool and mysterious as me, of course, but I'd say it's a close second!”

“Naturally. I wouldn't dare bestow a name mightier than the Great Grim's.”

Despite the stream of praise his henchman delivers (which he pleasantly basks in), Yue eventually derails, returning to speak of the horned man yet again. What Grim's superior brain gathers is this: One, this Nyx guy is super weird. Two, Yue's interest has been piqued like no other before.

He'll demand some omurice as payment for his counsel later on.

. . .

Malleus has made a friend.

The news was dropped onto Lilia's lap rather unceremoniously when one night, the Young Lord—having just returned from another evening excursion, went to sit with him in the Diasomnia lounge. This time, however, the quaintest of smiles adorned his face... It was an unusual sight but certainly not unwelcome. And much like any doting parent, his curiosity led him to ask.

Malleus had replied with a question of his own.

"Lilia, do you know of the Prefect that resides in Ramshackle Dorm?"

"Yue? Why yes, of course. I've spoken to them once or twice. They made quite a show during the Ceremony."

Yue— Lilia soon comes to learn— is completely unaware of Malleus's identity as a prince and a figure of authority, of power. As such, they bear no fear for him, even going so far as to bestow him a pet name, of all things.

(“Nyx? As in the night spirit? How fitting.")

Thus began the pattern of Lilia covering for Malleus's nighttime absence, not daring to ask nor scold when the prince would return in strange and stranger states.

When he would return to the dormitory partially caked with dirt and mud (a consequence of helping the prefect with their little garden of life.) Or when he would return with a box of homemade cake, a pretty stone from their walks, a drawing of him supposedly made by the prefect's beast, and with inquiries of the complexities of human nature.

Sometimes, Lilia can't help but feel a bit guilty, constantly boring witness to Silver and Sebek's searches into the night.

Yet that sliver of guilt fades, in the end, when Malleus smiles more often than before, when he approaches Lilia in the winter with the request of delivering a Holiday Card.

As he watches the magicless human rush into their abode, card in hand, ghosts and Grim awaiting their entrance...

he has never felt prouder and more grateful for fate.

. . .

From a distance, Vil watches.

He watches as the feared Briar Prince lets a small, feeble human talk his ear off, calm and unresisting, a hand on his chin as he ponders along Yue's barrage of words. He gives the prefect full reign of the conversation. He lets himself be taken away by their stories and details. He lets them speak, which they do.

Just after the horrors, highs, lows, and thrills of the VDC, the two chat as if nothing even happened. The onslaught of it all feels like a fever dream to Vil. First, the mental toll of overblotting, then their loss to RSA's nursery rhyme performance, and now the shocking reveal of Yue (innocent, bold, mundane little Yue) and Malleus Draconia's relationship.

He isn't even sure what to make of it. They're clearly friends, yet Vil can't bring himself to chalk it up to just that. His years and years of showbiz cinema has taught him the ins and outs of body language. He watches. He sees:

There's the smiles on both their faces; cheeks raised taut, dimples carved with genuine laughter. There's that glimmer in Yue's eyes and the odd tenderness of Malleus's own, both gazes locked onto one another with an undisturbed focus. There's the fact that Yue had given him an invitation to the VDC, or that Malleus had fixed the stage partially to show off to the magicless human, or that their hands are currently mere centimeters away from each other.

In the end, Vil averts his gaze, weariness crashing into him all at once and he feels a pair of hands grasp onto his shoulders, keeping him standing. Rook smiles, gentle, knowing, annoying. Vil resigns to his whims and lets his Huntsman guide him back to the Pomefiore Dorm, the chatter of Yue and Malleus and everyone else fading away.

[festering-bacteria]

Assorted ship art,,,,cannot believe gay people are real,,,

[stinkcoke]

that one white friend thats a little too excited to join the military

[maomango-doodle]

Playing around with the color wheel WEEE

[awakenthebeing]

(Mainly leaving this here for storage per usual!! Don't mind it too much) (Do not worry Fake Peppino is okie. The grab is firm but not with intent to harm)

(The words at the last image btw are "that is enough")

[usereddie]

this is what it feels like word count: 1.3k | rated T

Buck blushes. Always has. Gets flustered easily, ducks his head with a giddy, boyish grin at any compliment. It’s poetic, really, that he’s a firefighter because he flushes bright, fire engine red every time.

Still, though. He’s not sure he’s ever blushed as much as he does with Tommy.

read on ao3

wrote most of this during class i hope guimarães rosa can forgive me for not listening to my teacher talk about his brilliant stylistic choices

[deadpoets]

THE BEATLES interviewed about being in Northern Ireland, 1963