currently i use these in the shower (every few days, i'd say? and i dont condition every time) and then the oil when its still damp. i dont brush or comb or anything bcoz i dont own a comb. my hair is bleached + dyed and like... 6" stretched out? and forms loose ringlets especially in humidity. but sometimes it just hangs limply instead and looks messy. i dunno what im doing wrong

please dont say its the dye 🙏 ive had colored hair since i was 12

leo is so harsh on himself, feeling so guilty that he would think these thoughts about his little brothers. once it begins, the attraction is a constant weight on their interactions, and even innocent touches ignite the shame. he loves them so, so much, and he knows that he loves them the Wrong Way. 

he’s ashamed of the way he wants to press little kisses to the corner of mikey’s mouth when he’s upset. he always comes to his oldest brother for comfort, it seems. leo longs to give him something more, a firm assurance of his love for him. he wants to kiss away his baby brother’s tears.

he’s ashamed of the way he wants to rub circles into donnie’s shoulders and kiss the back of his neck while he works, slowly feeling the tension melt away. he wishes he could pull their resident genius away from his work, convince him to spend some quiet time in leo’s arms and maybe fall asleep there. he sometimes watches him in the lab; always standing a respectable and proper five feet away or more. he can’t... seem too eager to get close to him. that would be.... improper. yes. impolite.

he’s especially ashamed of his feelings towards raph. while he’s thought sexual thoughts about all of them before--those nights ended in a confusing muddle of post-orgasm bliss and guilty tears--raph fires him up the most. he loves him just as sweetly as the others, but raph also gets him frustrated, and with that frustration comes the desire to push his buttons until raph is slamming him shell-first into a subway tunnel wall, kissing him everywhere, touching him everywhere. he imagines that raph would apologize with his lips and his tongue, and leo would do the same. it’s a fantasy he’s had many more times than he wants to admit. it’s a fantasy that ends in more kissing, limbs tangled together, falling asleep somewhere soft, and not being angry anymore. he knows its unrealistic that sex would fix an argument, but he knows that its even more unrealistic that raph would ever be interested in letting leo fuck him. 

he ignores them, but the thoughts don’t go away. they get stronger as he gets older. he wonders if its affecting his ability to lead. he wonders if anyone notices his gaze lingering on donnie’s thighs when he walks ahead of him on patrol. he wonders if the brush of his hand is somehow charged with some nebulous, noticeable intent when he pushes mikey aside to survey the streets.

his feelings are revealed some day--some villain who can see into their minds, how unfair--all of a sudden. the secret is out so fast. his heart just drops, prepared for the disgust, the looks of fear or hatred from the people he loves most. 

he won’t even look at their faces, eyes squeezed shut and head dropped in shame. he feels like he’s burning, melting, falling through the floor. he’s on his knees, wishing he could disappear. 

he’s saying something, promising he’s not a monster, and he would never do anything to them, and he didn’t choose this, and it just wouldn’t go away, and begging them to believe him. 

he’s not prepared for hands on his shoulders. the feeling of someone sinking to their knees in front of him. he’s not prepared for donnie’s hand on his shell, and mikey’s shoulder bumping his. he opens his eyes and all of them are there, all of them are touching him, and he sees no disgust in their eyes.

what's that? its a bird! its a plane! no, its super-pony!

who could possibly think that mild-mannered earth pony clark kent is actually mareopolis' greatest hero?