#that just popped into my head.

[izayoichan]

The picture book 🎶

Flynn: So this is? Hayle: Well, a little welcome home present for you, its both some pictures we had from when your mom was little, and some from when you were little. Flynn: Oh... They had been called to come visit by them both, not quite sure what to expect when they had arrived. A picture book was not quite what he had expected.

Hayle: The first three are some pictures of your mom, the rest we have of him and Hayden you have seen, but these were just of him. Flynn: Wow he liked making messes didn’t he?  Chris: Yeah, all the time, it drove your grampa fairly insane at times. Flynn: Did you ever get mad? Hayle: Often, and he got sad and said sorry, and then two minutes later, there it was again. Flynn chuckled, hearing about this side of his mom, although they were very young at the time, was fun. Flynn: What is this one? Hayle: Oh, thats the one Hayden found in a book, it was the first picture he talked him into taking, the one that started his modeling career. Flynn: Wow.. Chris: He was very uncertain about it, but Hayden was sure, so they sent this and some others, and got asked for more. Flynn: I do look a little l ike him, don’t i? Hayle: You do, but you also have River in there, a good mix I’d say. Flynn smiled, watching the rest of the pictures. Several was of him with either Chris or Hayle, or his dad, and some were of course with him and Fannar being up to all manners of sillyness. Flynn: I wish I remembered this one. Chris: Your dad wishes to forget it forever! Flynn: How long did it take him to clean us both? Hayle: Hours, and still Vy found specs of paint on Fan and asked what had happened. The picture was of the two off them, sitting in the middle of a pile of opened paintcans in all colors, and at best, you could simply say they were both very colorfull. Flynn: Poor dad. Hayle: He did laugh at first though. Flynn chuckled as he could just imagine his dad finding it fun, then realizing Vy might not. He could also imagine how fun it would be to try and wash two unruly toddlers, even with magic.

Flynn: Thanks, I think I want to show this to my dad later.

He stayed a while longer, just chatting with his grandparets, a little about his mom, his childhood, and of course they asked about him and Emil. Then, much later than planned, he made his way home, deciding to show Emil his new treasure first.

(Poses are by @simmireen )

[hiraethwrote]

Imagine trying to escape an annoying ex who just will not leave you alone. And one day, around lunchtime, you’re so unlucky as to run into them in a cafe. They start badgering you about grabbing a bite together when you just blurt out “I’m actually here on a date!”

They instantly start grimacing and asking all sorts of questions about who this might be, causing you to panic. “Aah, there he is!” You desperately grab the arm of the next person to enter the cafe, hoping they’re able to read the situation and then have the decency to play along.

That random individual is no other than Satoru, who looks absolutely baffled by the abrupt encounter. His eyes darts between your ex and you, pleading with your eyes to help you out.

It takes him less than a second to make up his mind, slinging his arm over your shoulders and flashing your ex a smug grin — and then he commits wholeheartedly to the bit. He starts lying through his teeth about how much he enjoyed your last date, that he just picked up that book you recommended and he thought you might want to go to a botanical garden for your next meeting.

Eventually, your ex has had enough of the sight and leaves the cafe — you exhale deeply and relief washes over you. And once you begin to thank the stranger, he notices just how pretty you are. Kind eyes, a warm little smile that lingered after having laughed along to his performance, and a frame that simply seems to fit next to him.

The little unexpected interaction has caused you to run late. Rushing out a million little thank you’s, before pulling out your wallet. You pay for what you came for, then hand him some cash, “I’d love to pay for your lunch but I have to run. So just, take this, thank you again!” You chuckle lightly before quickly backing out of the cafe.

In your hurried haze, Satoru barely gets a word in. What really bothers him, is how he never managed to get your name before you’re out of there, and from that moment you’re stuck on his mind.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[punkitt-is-here]

rarity learns of the hot new meme

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i love the DLC man

[irishvampireboy]

thinking about eddie getting arrested one night by Hopper and officer whats-his-face and when they turn their backs on him for a second he fucking bolts.

hands cuffed behind his back he books it down the street and they're both chasing him, and it plays out like the scene from super bad, neither of them can catch him cuz he's wicked fast and they just end up panting in the middle of the road as he jangles his way into the distance, Hopper with his hands on his knees, gasping for breathe like "he's a freak. He's the fastest kid alive."

[ahhrenata]

* flirt mode activated *

[coffeebanana]

i headcanon that gabe and emilie would want to create a sentibaby that's a mix of their own DNA--which, why can't they do that? Dusuu's got to use some sort of genetic material

but what if they wanted to test the possible combinations of their DNA before deciding on their perfect designer baby? what if you're adrien agreste model 1.0? it's a little weird when you come into the world, fully grown, and the first thing you're asked to do is turn around slowly on the spot. there's some lady in a mask and a peacock dress, smiling as you stand there, awaiting judgement. her counterpart, standing behind her, seems uncertain. but you don't think much of that. there's no time to think much of that--not when all of a sudden you're sitting at a desk, with pages of equations written on them. problems you're meant to solve.

somehow, you know you've learned this math somewhere--even if you don't remember when or how. but they keep watching you--scrutinizing every line of your pencil. you finally dare to ask them about it--because it's weird, right? and god, if they could just leave you alone for ten minutes, you could probably finish this easily. but your examiners' lips turn down at your outburst. and you're snapped away before you even manage to look back down at the page

what if you're adrien agreste model 13.6, and everything you do elicits little whoops of joy from the peacock lady? in your several hours of existence, you've spoken five different languages and carried out a slew of endurance, agility, and cognitive tests. and most importantly--although you don't know why your examiners seem to praise you for this--you never talked back once

the peacock lady claps her hands together, and even the man behind her--who you've come to realize isn't nearly as easy to crack--can't seem to stop smiling. and you don't understand why something about that fills you with dread, but it does. it's a sort of all-consuming, impossible to shake dread. but you smile through it anyways

you don't know that once you disappear, a smaller version of you will come forth into the world. or that, years later, you'll feel that same sort of sick feeling in your gut

you're adrien agreste model 13.7, and you don't know there's anything weird about the way you came into this world. you don't realize your mother sometimes misses 6.8's dimples, or that your father often wishes they'd gone with 11.2--who would have had a real head for business

and you never do figure out why something always feels just a little bit wrong

[jadequarze]

Was bored, doodled a design for form of dread Laudna then Imogen, which then turns into drawing more doodles of them of an AU (?)

[apollos-boyfriend]

my favorite genre of gif is cubitos fucking beefing it

try and name something funnier than these. you literally can’t

[hiraethwrote]

Satoru is such a baby when it comes to splinters.

Just imagine you’re standing in the kitchen when you suddenly feel the energy in the room shift — turning around to face Satoru, hunched and small with his bottom lip sticking out in a pout, hand stretched out in front of him to show you his wound.

“What am I looking at?” He shakes his hand furiously, having you approach him, grabbing his wrist to keep it still, and he instantly winces in pain. You squint, noticing the tiny, red dot in the dead centre of his palm — and he won’t tell you how he got the splinter burrowed in his hand, but you suspect he ran down the stairs three steps at a time, hand gliding over the railings and brushing over the chipped patch at the bottom of it (again). “I’ll get the tweezers,” you sigh.

Coming back from the bathroom, Satoru is sat by the dining table, mentally preparing himself for the dramatic procedure you’re about to perform.

“Show me,” you speak softly, knowing he’s going to need the sympathy. He rests the back of his hand on the table, his eyes pinched together as he awaits the stinging feeling of you digging into his hand.

“That hurts!” He squeals, retracting his hand to his chest at the speed of light.

“I didn’t even touch you, baby,” you say with a low chuckle. “Give me your hand again,” and he begrudgingly puts it back in the table.

“Satoru?”

“Hmm?”

“You have to turn off your infinity.”

He peaks open one eye, taking in the scene of the tweezers hovering an inch above his hand. He flicks his attention to your face — one eyebrow quirked, a slightly taunting smirk on your lips, fighting back the laugh you were harbouring.

Clearing his throat, he shifts in his chair to settle in a more confident posture — straightening his back, wiping away his pout and flexing his muscles, all in order to seem like a tough guy.

The invisible pressure under the tweezers disappeared. You lean in closer to execute with precision, only for Satoru to cry out the second the cold metal grazes his sensitive skin, causing you to flinch away on pure instinct.

“Fiiiine,” you singsong, “we can just let the splinter disappear into your hand and travel your bloodstream.” The lie often told to children seems to work, having him chew the inside of his cheek while he thinks for a second, before he once again rests his hand in front of you. “Ready?” He nods weakly, squeezing his eyes shut again.

And with ease, you snatch a hold of the small splinter that was wedged in his flesh and pull it out.

He blinks a few times, looking at his hand, looking at you. “Thank you,” he mumbles shyly, a little embarrassed by how he acted as if it was the end of the world.

With a lighthearted laugh, you get up from your seat and place a kiss on his forehead. “Any time, darling,” you whisper against his hot skin, knowing it’ll probably only be three weeks before you’re sat at the table again, facing the same issue.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[craacked-splatters]

Just a father and his sons :))

Hee hee I'm evil >:))

But seriously tho I still can't believe the creators orphaned them like that😭

I have always been curious about the turtles childhood and what their upbringing must've been like growing up. Especially since this version they never stepped foot out of the sewers until they were 15.

Lone rat and cubs is one of my top favorite eps out of the whole show. It's so bittersweet to watch and it genuinely brings me to tears knowing the futures they're all gonna have to endure and how much they grow into as ppl.

Wish we could've seen more of Splints being a dad. I wanna see the moment Mikey started calling him Papa, see him play more with his 2 eldest and feeding Don's curiosity for the world around him. I want to know more about this family cmon gimme gimme

Fun fact! this was all triggered by that one EP where splinter drunk fights his kids💀 ( it's the way he fought his sons, especially when he blew a raspberry on leo, that made me think)

I'ma call it 2012 Papa!Splinter doodles & this is gonna be pt 1✨

[teddybeartoji]

imagine walking out of your room while trying to rid of the remaining sleep from your eyes when you see him.

roomie!suguru – in a baggy tank top and a pair of shorts, his hair in a low messy bun with sweat trickling from his temple. you're stopped in your tracks, lips parted at the glorious sight.

his eyes are closed, his breathing controlled as he sits in a deep stretch. you can see his biceps and his thigh muscles and his calves and... his ass. his hands are placed together in front of his chest and he looks so peaceful.

yoga.

he's doing yoga and you feel like you're about to faint.

you clear your throat and his purple eyes snap open; his lips tug into a sly smile, his canines flashing at you in the sunlight.

"morning."

his voice is syrupy, maybe way too so for the early hour. he moves his hands to his hips as he lowers himself deeper into the stretch, gaze glued onto you. he makes you nervous and you hate it – he's not even really doing anything! you feel small as he observes you, as he takes you apart. suguru thinks you look adorable; still sleepy with multiple pillow lines running over your cheek. you're fiddling with your own fingers, eyes flicking all over his body – from his exposed thigh to his hands to his face. you're not slick and he loves it.

"hi." suguru's smile stretches wider at your soft tone. "i'm gonna make coffee, do you– do you want some?"

he gives you a small nod, always amused by your desire to take care of others. he has seen it with others too; you always have extra sweets for whenever satoru comes by and you've started carrying around a small lighter just in case shoko ever forgets hers.

suguru takes in your faint little smile, your head cocking to the side as you mouth "ok" before disappearing into the kitchen. he switches his legs and sinks back into the stretch; he closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing again. he thinks about you in the kitchen, he thinks about you grabbing your mug and then his. he thinks about you placing them side by side. he hears your quiet steps and he hears you yawn. it's a perfect morning.

when he's finally done, he saunters into the kitchen while raising his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. you have to do a double take, his dark happy trail making you choke on your own saliva. he chuckles at your reaction, but makes no comment, focusing on the freshly brewed coffee instead. his shoulder bumps into yours as he leans over you, the warmth of his body engulfing you. he still smells so good and you want to be mad.

you take a second to admire him and the flush on his cheeks but almost jump when his eyes suddenly meet yours. he's so close. sharp teeth and a sweet smile, he gives your hip a squeeze; his touch burns and you're about to melt, but he doesn't let you. he doesn't let go when he leans even closer, his breath fanning your face as he whispers.

"thank you, sweetheart. smells so good."

you give him a little high-pitched sound as a reply and he tongues the side of his cheek. you're so fucking cute. he grabs the mugs with a small grin and places them on the table behind you before taking a seat. he taps on the wood, telling you to come and join him.

the sun swallows him with ease, illuminating his beautiful sweaty, tanned skin; his piercings flicker at you and the thought of kissing them settles in the back of your mind. birds continue chirping lovesongs (for you, they're singing for you) while trees dance against the blue cloudy background, the smell of coffee fills the peaceful air around you and it's comfortable. this is your new routine - he makes your heart tremble and you make his grow in size.

suguru hasn't felt like this in a long, long time – your attention is addicting; he loves it more than he wants to admit. satoru would never let him live it down but he just cannot stop thinking about you. warm hugs and silly jokes, he's grateful for choosing you as his roommate.

[thatlittlesentientfox]

never forget james flint parallel parked a fucking warship

[messiahzzz]

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.

Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.

Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.

Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.

Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”

… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.

Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.

It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.

“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.

“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).

“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.

“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”

The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”

——

The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.

Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.

Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.

The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”

Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.

———

Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.

[skyhighrollins911]

"I Am Free"