#like holy shit please

[clarisimart]

be careful what you wish for, Fordsy

commission info here

[egophiliac]

we were fucking ROBBED

[inthemiddleofmybackswing]

GUYS my girlfriend MADE this for me for christmas!! with her own two hands!! she even wired the chevrons to light up and i’m so impressed and happy and just wanted to share it with the world

[dukeofash]

original x

[putterphubase]

You said I can ask you if there's anything I don't understand, right? Then please teach me. How to kiss.

THE TIME OF FEVER (2024).

[ninjautizm]

I don't remember this but HOLY FUCKING SHIIIIIITT LLOYD WAS CONFIRMED TO BE AT LEAST 9 YEARS OLD HERE AND HE WAS ABLE TO DO THAT??? JESUS FUCK

[momentomori24]

THEY ARE SO INSUFFERABLE AND HORRIFIC AND AWFUL BUT SO AMAZING AND DORKY AND THIS PART IS SO UNFAIRLY FUNNY AND CUTE AND WHOLESOME-- PLEASE, PLEASE HAVE MORE SCREENTIME IN S2. PLEASE LET THEM TAKE OVER THE SHOW. I KNOW THEY'RE HORRIBLE PEOPLE BUT I NEED MORE OF THE VEES.

And the most important scene of them all (to me):

First of all, how is Vox doing that. Second, you just know that these two douchebags are going to bang so hard with Alastor getting his ass kicked replaying in the background after this. I hate them so much.

[domirine]

gonna be posting my avpol doodles individually!

this one is from a lil AU that takes place in a small ghibli-esque seaside town, avdol owns a flower shop and temporarily fosters iggy. polnareff does jackshit but helps at sherry's bakery every now and again (yes she's unfridged!). it's a wee wholesome summer story.

[greenglowsgold]

The List.

Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.

The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.

@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend

                              -----

                              Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.

No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.

The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…

He’s going to die tonight.

It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.

Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.

There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.

He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.

His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.

Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).

Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.

He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.

He looks down, finds Mikey.

There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.

Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.

Up a bit. To the left. Leo.

The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.

The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.

The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.

Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.

Is it enough?

His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.

What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.

Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.

The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.

Is it enough? For them to be okay?

He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.

Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.

Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.

Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.

Raph.

Mikey.

Leo.

                                                            April.

                                                                                                                        Casey.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Home.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Light.

                                                                                                                         There’s light.

                                                            It hurts.

                                                            He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.

Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.

He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.

It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.

His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.

Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.

Casey calls his name once more and starts running.

Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.

His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.

Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…

He’s…

Casey, he’s…

Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.

Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.

                                                                                                                         Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.

Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.

First thing’s first: he needs a body.

It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?

In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.

In no time at all, he’s gasping.

It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.

Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.

The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.

We lost, Casey says.

They’re dead, Casey says.

It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.

All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.

Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.

(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)

It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.

Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.

He pulls up a list.

[katiekatdragon27]

Guys what is this book and what is the Bill on it? All I know is gay shapes-

A. Sphere: I'm not calling you "Good Boy" A. Square, that court case was SHIT.

Me earlier: Wow! The Book of Bill just came out, that's cool ig.

Everyone recently: *being super active in the tag, watching the movies, relogging and liking my art*

Me: *me carrying some small doodles over* WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE???

Thanks for bringing me back to brainrot by spam-liking all my old posts guys I forgive none of you (/J I LOVE YOU ALL)

More stuff below cut (BE WARNED NEW FLAT-PEOPLE SOME OF IT IS LOWKEY SPOILERY):

A. Square and A. Faux Line: Damn, that circle kinda a hottie- ...

I had this silly idea after my 29374th time watching Flatland that a majority of the first part of the movie is just A. Sphere watching all the shit go down like the worst telenovela you've ever seen. Also, that A. Line was originally going to be the apostle, but... uh... she can't really do that anymore, so he banks all his money on A. Square.

Also, I thought it would be super funny of A. Square and A. Faux Line both crushed on A. Sphere when he first showed up lol. Crazy smooth priest spawns and everyone swoons.

Older Hex doodles too. I love Hex, they're such a real one the whole time. With all the faults of Sphereland, I do like Hex maining in that one. But I also like picking and choosing which things I take as canon in my own work, so you get young adult Hex with their totally not-romantically-involved-with-at-all partner Punto (P. Octagon).

It's been a bit since Flatland happened in this hypothetical, so A. Square's still around. He's trying to be supportive of his masc-nonbinary kid who likes kissing boys, but still has to be annoying with dad jokes and the occasional backhanded compliment. He means well tho.

A. Tesseract: Hello A. Square!

A. TESSERACT OH HOW I'VE MISSED YOU POOKIE <3333. She's probably one of my most favorite ocs I've made (and the one that gets the most art <3) She's also the one I feel the least awkward about shoving into the source material lol. I yearn to work on A Heightlander's Escape again, but we'll see.

I just wanted to draw something cute between her and A. Square. She may or may not be the voice at the end of the movie hmmmmmmmm.

At least A. Square would end up in good hands.

"There is always something beyond. There is always INFINITY."

Just a little doodle of smth I may or may not render cuz I really like how it looks. There is always something greater after all.

Thank you all for the recent support on those old-ish drawing, y'all made my week tbh. I have a new AU cooking for this so look forward to that lol. Have a good one :)))

[peak-dumbass]

I need yall to understand, I need yall to see the vision

The “old friends” that changed one another fundamentally……

The opposing attitudes that result in frustration and admiration………

The apprehensive red that has issues and the social blue that also has issues but hides it better………………

Their undying mutual respect that goes unsaid but is understood only by them……………………………

​What I’m saying is that megop caused a war so sonadow could save the planet from the biolizard so narumitsu could change career paths to meet him again so klance could cradle him in his arms

[literallyjusttoa]

For two people that broke up almost 2000 years ago, they sure do have the vibe of that insanely toxic couple on your college campus that you keep getting second-hand embarrassment from as you pass by. Idk what the modern equivalent of drowning your ex in a bathtub would be tho.

[heretherebedork]

Joe was convinced Ming would never change but this? Ming trading his privacy in the hope that Joe would see him and come back? This is the first moment that Joe truly believes that Ming is changing. That this can be real. That Ming means everything he says.

Because Ming changed in so many ways but this was a way that showed Joe exactly how much he meant.

I love angry Ming. This boy was gonna commit a murder in a crowded theater in front of fans and cameras. No hesitation. Nothing. The only thing holding him back was Joe himself. Tong would have been punched right in the nose, right there, if not for him.

And, again, it's about how Ming has grown. It's about how he changed from losing Joe and from getting him back. It's how Ming isn't the same selfish person he was then, he's still damaged and hurt but he's not the same.

Ming has changed. And Joe knows. Joe, who has loved Ming all along but never let himself because he knew the risks, sees how Ming has remade himself in his love and his loss. And Ming still aches and Ming still doesn't know how regulate a single emotion but he does it all for Joe. He does it all with more self-awareness and with love and with this knowledge of who people really are.

And Tong is the real monster here. As we all know. Right off the cliff.

(But Joe is tired and he doesn't want to fight and Ming is scared, so scared, so hurt, aching and screaming inside and the family that supposedly loves him is what's going to destroy the one person that Ming actually loves. And, for the first time, Ming doesn't go after Joe. Because he showed Joe all his love and all the ways he changed and, in the end, he was still destroyed by the family that forces him to hurt himself and in the end he will choose that destruction for himself)

Ming chooses this. He lets Joe walk away so he won't be hurt by what happens but he still tells his father, he still stands in front of his mother and Tong and says I am not yours. I am Joe's and I am my own.

This is Ming's final growth. To stand up to the people who are using him and say no more, to say that he will choose the pain and the loss and the isolation over this loneliness, over being used, over the fear that has always been held over his head. To step out on his own for the sake of love, to say all of this without Joe there but rather because Joe isn't there.

[moon-andstardust]

That scene. That scene right there is soo telling. We've known since the beginning that Blitz has commitment issues, but we're only now starting to see just how deep they ran and just how much they affect his relationships.

I feel like these words, "I love you," trigger blaring alarms in his head, a panic reaction. Remember what happened the first time he dared to love someone? The first time he tried to confess his love?

Oh, nothing big.

He just permanently disfigured his crush, killed his mother and ruined his sister's life*.

This accident, this event lies in the core of 90% of his issues and problems.

This is why he runs the second things get serious. This is why he dumps Verosica the second she says she loves him.

In Blitz's eyes, his love is destructive. His love only ruins. So if he cuts ties before things get too complicated, maybe the other person won't get even more hurt, even more damaged. It's a twisted and fucked up desire to protect not only himself and his heart but also his loved ones**. It has turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy and a never-ending cycle: the more he pushes and pushes and pushes, the more people push back. Because no one likes getting hurt. No one likes having their heart broken. And when these people finally snap, when they've had enough of Blitz's bullshit? He can point and say, see? I told you so! They are better off without me!

Blitz's cruelty doesn't stem from outright malice. It stems from Blitz being deeply broken and damaged.

Before he can start a stable romantic relationship of any kind, he needs to forgive himself for that accident. Otherwise, that deeply rooted self-loathing will continue to get in the way and cause him to repeatedly self-sabotage. And he has to do it himself, Verosika can't do it for him, M&M can't do it for him, Stolas can't do it for him.

The good news is that he is already taking the necessary steps. Making up with Fizz: a step in the right direction. Genuinely apologizing to Stolas and Verosika: a step in the right direction. Letting go of Stolas, realizing that his actions have serious consequences on his loved ones, owning up to his mistakes: all steps in the right direction. I don't know about ya'll but I'm eager to see where this is going and what happens next.

*it was an accident. Wrong place, wrong time, but Blitz sure as hell doesn't believe that.

**I belive this last bit is fully subconscious and Blitz isn't much aware of it. He says it himself: he buries all of it deep in his mind, avoids thinking about it at all costs

[ronnierosest]

Zakkura "So he never initiates, never asks, and waits." - inspired by a fanfiction we're friends, right? (very adult) by totosheadset

[shen-mu]

'Let's have our last dance together, love' art for a fic by @emiliaexists <З ty, i cried.