#I heart turtle hat

[noodleyboodley]

Being silly

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

*saunters into your inbox and hands you a small bouquet of pink roses as I tip my hat at you*

Howdidoo friend! Just wanted to drop in and hand you a little token of my thanks and appreciation for the incredible gift of writing that you so willingly share with the rest of us.

In floriography, the Victorian Language of flowers, pink roses represent gratitude and admiration as well well femininity and elegance, which I think you represent wonderfully well. You seem like a very down-to-earth individual with a good heart, so I just wanted to say thanks for being who you are and being brave with sharing your talents. I know it's scary, but you're doing remarkably, honey.

Well done 🙌🏼👏🏼🙌🏼🧡

I say that your requests were open and I'd like to give one a try if and only if you're up for it. (if not then no worries, do whatcha got to do to take care of that beautiful mind ok?)

This is gonna sound really silly, but I have these two off switches that like immediately shut me down. I found this out once ranting about a book to my friends in the library and my one friend just reached up, patted my head and then started playing with my hair. I immediately stuttered to a halt because it was like my brain short-circuited. The other off button for me, is just someone like cradling my head. I have ADHD so I'm constantly go go go. Just adding that little bit of pressure just makes me no joke zoink out, like there are no thunks in that brain whatsoever once you touch my head.

Learning this as Ive gotten older has made it so I'm quite protective of who touches my head because it can make me somewhat kind of vulnerable, so my question of the day is how would the turtles respond to accidentally finding out about somebody's “off” button like that.

You can do whatever you're comfortable with and feels easy to write as I'm not really expecting much. Once again, this is just a request, so please please take care of yourself, your mental health and social batteries please.

Just know I think you're pretty cool and I look forward to seeing what you come up with in the future 😊🧡✨

This'll be easy, because I have the EXACT same thing!

Rubbing my scalp or my face suddenly erases lifelong sleep or hyperactive issues! I melt into touches like that, knocks you out like a light. Sometimes it gets you feeling emotional, too, lol

Thank you for the sweet words, they made my day. Got me feeling seen too. Thanks again for the ask.

I hope you enjoy!

Touch-Sensitive Reader × TMNT

Mikey

-Mikey is less of a touchy guy while getting to know you.

-But he is IN YOUR SPACE.

-All the time.

-He's an EXTREMLY touchy guy.

-But he will wait for you to make the first move.

-Until then, it's all over.

-It will take very, VERY little time for him to find every. Single. Sweetspot.

-He knows where they are on himself, and he knows that everyone alive has a few.

-You had shyly crawled into his lap for the first time, him leanded all the way back on the arm while he pulled you into his chest.

-The movie had barely started by the time he noticed you had gone still. Something he rarely saw with you.

-He looked down, surprised to see your eyes close, your entire body limp in his arms.

-"Y/N?" He whispered, trying not to laugh. "Baby?"

-You didn't budge

-Didn't you tell him you were notoriously horrible at falling asleep?

-He smiled widely, glancing at his hand now hovering over your scalp.

-"Cool."

Donnie

-Nap date.

-He was on his first nap date.

-Sure, it was after a bit of a skwabble over his sleep schedule. Or lack of.

-But he finally gave into curling up in his hammock with you on top of him

-But to be honest, he had been wanting this too. All the naps he's been taking have been spent wishing you were there with him.

-Now you were!

-You had told him you'd stay here until he'd fall asleep.

-You'd asked him if you had his permission to listen to music and play on your phone, all efforts to keep you still.

-He'd agreed, just happy he'd somehow landed someone willing to touch him, let him fall asleep with them.

-His eyes had been dropping, and his fingers had begun to rhythmically comb through your hair.

-Geez, this was paradise. This was everything he ever could have hoped for. The warmth, the weight of your body, the texture of your skin- If life felt this good all the time-

-Your phone dropped from your hand onto his stomach with a soft 'clunk'.

-He hardly noticed until you didn't move to grab it.

-His eyes blinked open, squinting them hard at your head. He wasn't able to see your face, but he could now feel your deep, quiet breathing. How limp you were against him.

-He smiled, his head falling back to the support pillow.

-'Noted.' He thought.

Raph

-Raph could barely remember the times you didn't want to be touched.

-You were all over him right now, and while he didn't have energy to meet this amount of enthusiasm this late- he was defiently feeling as if he had died happy. Unbelieveing that this was his life now.

-Having a partner all over him on the bed. Kissing him everywhere mid conversation, trying to talk to him through your squirming about, trying to get comfortable.

-"C'mere." He whispered, pulling you against his torso, face to face. His right side, your left side on the bed.

-You're chattering went quiet, smiling wide while Raph ducked his face into the right of your jaw, his right hand going up to hold the weight of your head between the bedsheets.

-"Oh, hi." You said.

-"Hi." Raph closed his eyes, starting to brush his thumb gently over your left cheek, his enormous arm going around you tightly, holding you as close as you allowed him.

-He waited for you to continue with your vent- but when you didn't after a long moment- he pulled back to check on your expression.

-Your eyes were closed, lips slightly parted, your head sinking more and more into his hand.

-"Hey," Raph purred. "You like that?"

-You gurgled a noise out, making him smile.

-"Yeah?" He leaned back, lifting his right hand up to smooth over your other cheek, pressing just enough to smear the skin.

-You went completely unresponsive. The change sudden and new.

-Possessivness "You're so cute." He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

Leo

-Leo had never seen you cry before.

-Something about a confrontation with a scary coworker and HR.

-He felt awkward, too big, too dumb and useless to do anything about you sobbing into his chest.

-While you held tightly to the straps on his chest in substitute of wrapping your own around him- he fought the urge to rip someone's limbs off.

-"I'm right here." He whispered instead. "You're okay, you're okay..."

-His hands combed through your hair, his lips against your scalp, preparing to be there all night.

-It took just a moment, but Leo felt the change as if it happened in him too.

-Your sobs became deep breaths, and your desperate grip on him transformers into your weight laying limp against him.

- "You okay?" Leo asked.

-"Don't stop." You whined.

-It startled a smile out of Leo, and he resumed the petting.

- Because what works, works, right?

[rosie-b]

Follow the Red Wooly String

A soulmate story written for day 6 of @adrinetteapril, "Red String" (with art!!!)

The art is a commission from the talented @sinkdraws! Her commissions are still open, so consider getting some of her art for yourself, and reblog the non-png version of this image from her, too!!

Without further ado, you can read the fic on AO3 or just below! I hope you enjoy :D

The first time Marinette saw the strings, she thought she was hallucinating.

Everyone knew about the Seers, the few people capable of seeing soul-binding strings, but it was exceptionally rare to meet one, let alone develop the Seers’ ability oneself. And, well, Marinette knew herself well enough to know she couldn’t fully trust herself after pulling an anxiety-and-ADHD-fueled all-nighter. Last time it’d happened, she’d been fully convinced that Nino had grown his hair out into a mohawk and loudly complimented him on it several times before passing out in the middle of class. In the aftermath, Nino had sworn to never wear a new hat without telling Marinette about it first again.

So, Marinette had been more dubious than shocked when she closed her eyes for a second too long on her walk to class in the morning and opened them to see a mess of red, white, black, and yellow strings tangling and shifting around on the pavement in front of her. It was a cool hallucination, she knew it was, but Marinette wasn’t about to celebrate having a new power that she’d most likely daydreamed up.

Her heart still did a happy, nervous dance when she saw the deep red string that had just appeared on her finger, though, and Marinette really didn’t want to quash the hope that her vision was coaxing to new life in her chest! She’d wanted to know who her soulmate was for so long, before becoming Ladybug and meeting Master Fu, anyway. What if she finally had a chance to find them?

On the other hand, though, it was probably safer for her not to find out who they were.

Chat Noir had always believed that they were soulmates. He’d asked Master Fu, the day they’d been invited to his home and the turtle kwami had revealed that Master Fu was a Seer, if he’d chosen them because he could tell their strings were connected. 

Master Fu had only chuckled and said that he’d chosen them because he knew they would work well with Plagg and Tikki, not for any other reason. Besides, if Ladybug and Chat Noir really were soulmates, and if Master Fu told them that now, he’d claimed, that would add to the risk of another Seer seeing the string while they were detransformed and telling them each about it, thus revealing their secret identities.

They both knew what that meant— they’d have to give up their Miraculous, even if they were platonic, not romantic, soulmates. Their secret identities were crucial in the fight against Hawk Moth. So, Chat Noir had given up his hope of confirming their bond, and Ladybug had reluctantly given up her dream of finding her own soulmate (or soulmates). After all, if a Seer did take an interest in finding out whose string connected to hers, wasn’t there a risk that the same Seer might find out Ladybug’s identity, or at least who Ladybug’s soulmate was? 

She didn’t want to put herself or her soulmate in danger like that, so she’d suppressed her childhood dream of being brought to her soulmate by a kind Seer and a little red string.

But sometimes, Marinette couldn’t help but stare at Adrien’s pinky finger during class and imagine a scarlet red string there, connecting his soul to hers. Love was a foolish thing, but Marinette wished she could afford its risk for the sake of being with Adrien. As Ladybug, though, she’d never be able to, so even after Master Fu handed over the Guardianship to her, she ignored her dream of being connected to Adrien as much as she could. Because she loved him, she didn’t want to put him in danger with her foolish hopes.

Today, though, as she approached Ms. Bustier’s classroom (only five minutes late!) and watched as the string trailing down from her finger seemed to grow taught, Marinette couldn’t help but hope that maybe, the universe was making an exception for her. Maybe, if she really was becoming a Seer, that meant she could finally find her soulmate without needing to worry about her secret identity!

Maybe this was a sign… if it wasn’t just an exhaustion-fueled hallucination, that was.

Marinette slid into her seat with a quiet apology to her teacher, who sighed but didn’t act surprised, since this kind of behavior wasn’t really that uncommon for Marinette. As Ms. Bustier resumed her lecture, Marinette found herself staring down at the string on her finger again.

It’s still there. What if it is real? She wondered.

Marinette looked around quickly, to make sure no one was watching her, and then gently poked the place where the string seemed to be. If the stories were true, only Seers could physically touch the strings. Everyone else phased through them or avoided them, as though by instinct, but the Seers could follow a string to its owner by sight and touch, and they were even capable of untying the string, releasing the bond between soulmates. That only happened rarely, Marinette remembered as she grasped the thick, red string tied around her little finger.

As it turned out, her string was soft, like it was made with fluffy wool. She touched it again, marveling at the texture under her fingertips. It felt so real! 

In front of her, Adrien shivered.

“You okay, dude? Classroom too chilly for you today?” Nino’s whisper barely reached Marinette’s ears.

Adrien hesitated and then shook his head in response as Ms. Bustier shot Nino a meaningful look. There was no escaping the teacher’s attention for students in the front row.

Marinette turned her attention back to the string for another moment before leaving it alone to at least pretend to take notes. In her sleep-deprived state, her notes usually left something to be desired (legibility, for one), and she shot a nervous glance at Alya, who caught her gaze and offered a smile and nod in return.

“I got you, girl,” she mouthed, and Marinette smiled and mouthed a sincere thank you back.

Class moved on, and Marinette lost herself in trying to pay attention, and then in the way the light from outside fell on Adrien’s hair, and then in several doodles serious notes until lunch. At that point, she decided it would be okay to sneak another peek at her soul-string, if it was still there.

It was, trailing down from her finger to a small, coiled pile on the floor between her and Adrien. Marinette traced it with her eyes as she slowly began to pack up.

Then, Adrien got up to leave, saying something to Nino about lunch at the mansion today, and the pile of Marinette’s soul-string began to unwind itself. Some of it began to follow Adrien, and Marinette jumped up in a panic. 

Her heart rate spiked as she worried about what this could mean; was this part of the hallucination? Was the universe telling her that Adrien was taking her heart away for good? That she’d never have him, but never be able to move on from him? No! She couldn’t accept that!

Marinette knew there was only one thing to do: she had to get her string back from Adrien before he stole it all away!

Alya, who was giving Marinette a concerned look, snapped in front of her face. “Girl, are you okay?” she asked, sounding worried. “What is it?”

Marinette gave Alya a serious, determined look.

“He’s taking my string away,” she declared with a frown, and Alya’s face pinched. 

“Who’s doing what? Sorry, Marinette, but what do you mean?”

Marinette began speed-walking out of the door, leaving her things at the bench. “My string is following him, but I’m not gonna let him steal it from me!” she exclaimed, and hurried off in the direction of her string. She stared intently at the ground, watching as the string tangled and weaved through a mess of other ones. She couldn’t let it escape her sight!

Alya sighed and stayed behind. “Oh, no, don’t worry. I’ll get your stuff for you, Marinette!” she called. “And then you’re taking a nice long nap,” she muttered. Marinette ignored her as she hurried along until she caught up with the culprit, the thief of her treasured string.

Stopping in front of him, Marinette posed dramatically, sticking her hand out and demanding, “Adrien, give me my string back!”

The students in the hallway muttered to each other as Adrien stared at her with a completely perplexed look on his face.

“Give you what? Marinette, what’s going on?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Marinette frowned, and her face went red in the usual fashion even as she stuttered out her defense. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by a pretty face, even if it was Adrien’s!

“String, you keep, uh, thief, uh, give it back!”  She launched herself toward the string, grabbing it and pulling until she reached some invisible knot near Adrien’s finger. He flinched in response, looking hurt and surprised.

Nino, who was standing beside Adrien, looking confused, suddenly lit up. He reached out, stopping Marinette before she could untie the string and take it back.

“Marinette, wait! You said Adrien has your string?”

Marinette paused, looking at Nino suspiciously.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “He’s stealing it; I saw it follow him when he left class!”

Nino nodded, furrowing his brows as he came up with a response. “So, is the string still attached to your finger, too?”

Marinette blinked. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of checking!

She peered down at her own hand, stepping back from Adrien as she did so, and noticed a familiar red string still tied around her finger.

“Yes,” she answered as the gears in her head began spinning, “Yes, it is.”

Adrien choked, and Nino nodded, relaxing. “Cool. So, dude, it sounds like Adrien’s not stealing it, then, right? Since it’s tying you two together,” he said, elbowing Adrien with a small grin.

Adrien’s face turned bright pink. “Nino,” he hissed, looking embarrassed. Nino kept going, though.

“And if it’s your string, and it’s still attached to you, and it’s attached to Adrien, then that sounds like a soul-string to me. This must mean you guys are soulmates!”

Marinette stared at Nino, then at Adrien, and then at the red string still connecting her finger to Adrien’s.

“Oh, no,” she whimpered, the horror of what she’d almost done hitting her. She’d almost untied the string binding her soul to Adrien’s! What kind of half-rate, half-witted Seer was she? “Oh, no, Adrien, I’m so sorry! I—” 

Just then, Alya came out of the classroom, walking up behind Marinette and offering her the backpack she’d forgotten inside. 

“Girl, you are a mess today! Are you sure you— wait. What’s going on?”

Alya looked around at the huddle of students in the hall, who were still staring at Marinette, Nino, and Adrien.

It was all a little too much for Marinette, who’d had a very long day for someone who hadn’t gotten any sleep that past night.

She reached out and grabbed the bag from Alya. “Thanks-see-you-later-bye!”

Before anyone could say anything (before she could embarrass herself further), Marinette took off running towards her home.

It was, without a doubt, the worst morning of her life.

__*__*__*__*__

Finding out who her soulmate was by trying to untie the string binding them together was possibly the most embarrassing thing that had happened to her, Marinette reflected. It hadn’t even been the weirdest thing she’d done — jumping into a dinosaur’s mouth was definitely higher on that list — but she knew the morning’s events would be featuring in her nightmares for years.

She’d almost rejected Adrien, her true love, as her soulmate— by accident, but still! It was hard to fathom a more awkward situation.

Still, after a short lunch and a semi-refreshing nap, she shouldered her backpack and headed back to afternoon class, full of resolve. She couldn’t run away from the mess she’d made! She had to make sure Adrien knew she wasn’t upset that they were soulmates, and that she hadn’t meant to hurt him earlier.

She’d only tell him the color of their string if he wanted her to, though. After all, just finding your soulmate was a big enough occurrence; being told whether the soul bond was romantic or platonic might be too much to find out in one day, especially considering how the reveal had happened.

Marinette hoped Adrien hadn’t decided to stay home to avoid her after what she’d done. He’d seemed pretty overwhelmed by her sudden attack on the soul-string earlier, but not unhappy when Nino had figured out that Marinette and Adrien were soulmates, so maybe that was a good sign. He had seemed really embarrassed, though, about as much as she’d been, herself, so maybe he’d choose to stay home, after all. Goodness knew his father would be only too happy to keep him there.

She didn’t have to worry, though; as she walked onto the school campus, Marinette could already see Adrien standing by the stairs. He looked nervous, she noticed as she walked closer, and if she concentrated, she could feel a kind of tension in their soul-string. She swallowed, mustered up a smile, and waved somewhat awkwardly as she approached him.

Marinette paused there, not quite sure what to do or say, and her eyes flitted over to Nino, who was standing beside his friend again, in hopes of some hint or encouragement. Before Nino could react, though, Adrien stepped forward. He opened his mouth, but hesitated, flushing, and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

Then Marinette felt a slight push at her side from inside her purse. Tikki had encouraged her to tell the truth earlier, at home, and she knew the little kwami was counting on her to set things right.

So, Marinette mustered up all her courage and reached out for Adrien’s hand, the one with the string attached to it. Adrien looked up sharply, nervous and hopeful at the same time, if the emotions Marinette could lightly sense through their soul-string were correct.

“Hi, Adrien,” she said, smiling lightly as she shook his hand as if to introduce herself. “I’m Marinette, and it’s nice to finally meet you, soulmate.”

A brilliant smile broke out on Adrien’s face, and he pulled her into a hug as their classmates cheered around them. Marinette felt her face heat up, but the butterflies she felt in her stomach were happy ones, for once. After a long moment, Adrien finally stepped back, and Marinette noticed that his face was a bit pink, and it looked like he was crying. A spike of alarm shot through her, and she gripped his hands tightly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, feeling worried.

He squeezed her hands back, and Marinette felt a powerful thrum run through their soul-string. 

“I’m more than okay, Marinette,” he told her, “I’m just so happy! You’re not upset you’re my soulmate?”

Marinette’s face hardened. “Never,” she vowed. “I could never be upset about that, Adrien! I’m glad you’re my soulmate.”

Adrien wiped a tear away from his eye, smiling. “This is the best day of my life,” he choked out.

Nino grinned and clapped his back. “I’m really happy for you, dude,” he said, and Alya, who’d come to stand by him and was holding her phone suspiciously like she did to take pictures of the heroes, nodded in excited agreement.

“I feel like a proud mother duck watching my babies swim for the first time,” she joked. “We need a better picture. Pick a pose, sunshines!”

Adrien’s eyes widened, and he hastily dried the rest of his tears away. “A picture? I can’t even think of any poses right now, I’m too excited!”

Alya hummed. “The model can’t think of any poses? Well, that’s fine, I can! How about you dance with him, Marinette? Use up that excited energy before you have to sit still in class!”

Marinette flushed, looking up at Adrien. “A-are you sure, Alya? I can’t even dance, not really, I’m so clumsy!”

“You weren’t clumsy at Chloe’s party, Marinette,” Adrien said shyly. “I thought you were perfect.”

He offered his hands to her, smiling shyly, and she slowly reached out to take them. Nino pressed a button on his phone, and the two of them began swaying to the gentle beat of the music that started to play.

Alya exclaimed and cooed over them, and as the final minutes before class ticked away, Marinette relaxed as she and Adrien began dancing more naturally. She fell into the lead almost by accident, and Adrien grinned up at her as she dipped him while the music swelled. 

“Got your perfect picture, Alya?” she asked with a cocky smile as she spun Adrien around one more time.

“I think I do,” Alya confirmed, grinning at the two soulmates. “Should we head into class? I’m sure Nino can trade Marinette seats so you lovebirds can sit together.”

Adrien blushed and Marinette stuttered, but in the end, they slid into the first row together happily, smiling so brightly that even Ms. Mendeleiev seemed affected by the adorable scene, not mentioning the fact that they were a few seconds late to class the way she usually would. 

As she sat in class, Marinette reflected on her crazy day. She’d gone to school after pulling an all-nighter, discovered her soulmate, almost untied their soul-string, and gone back to school and made it up to him. And her soulmate really was Adrien! Her day could hardly get any better, and now she realized that maybe the universe had been sending her a sign, after all.

If another Seer was going to find out her identity because of the soul-strings, it had probably happened by now. She was no more at risk than she’d ever been, and she’d have to get used to the new feeling of freedom and fear that knowledge brought.

But it was a good feeling overall, a really good one. Maybe she’d even offer to find Chat Noir’s soulmate for him and spread the joy she felt over to him, too! Marinette smiled at the thought of her partner gushing about his new-found soulmate to her. He’d be so happy when he found out about hers, too!

For now, though, she was happy just sitting next to her soulmate, holding hands under the table and taking pride in the happiness radiating from his end of the string. Today had been a good day, after all! 

[accio-victuuri]

CHILDREN’S DAY CANDIES. 🍭🍬

let’s call this part one of today’s cpns cause i’m waiting for xzs side to share stuff and knowing that LOZ just wrapped, we might get something on that too. but i can’t wait to scream about these! good turtles really got the sweets for today!

let the two cute babies invite you in… ⬇️⬇️⬇️

to those who have no idea what this holiday is about, then this might help you.

starting off the day with yibo’s audi ad. he really remains unbothered despite all the chaos, it’s business as usual on his side. and that is the reality of his life: it goes on. no matter what happens or who try to bring him down. he will continue to shine ✨ the story for the ad was so interesting, it was so nice to see him “cooking” and it’s giving me flashbacks to his other efforts. this is more of me as a cpf thinking about how yibo could also be making an effort on his own to cook, even if it’s not elaborate dishes. the fandom loves to paint xz as the “wife” who does the cooking but maybe yibo does too? and that grocery scene? AAHHHHHHH! domestic yizhan is my weakness. so while they walk into a store all dressed up like that, the thought makes me somft. considering there is a possibility too that they will be in the same city soon 🙏🏼

then xzs reposted menghai’s anniversary post which some are saying is unusual for them but who knows. WHAT GETS ME THO IS THE CAPTION. the fuck.

WHO FAMOUSLY SAID THIS? to the point that it became a tagline for the fandom. Yibo. Yibo during all the drama that happened during Hidden Blade’s showing:

WYB: like what the director & that audience said, a movie can create a lot of thoughts but u still need to continue with ur life. for Wuming, i hope we can exchange sincerity with sincerity. we made this movie with our heart, so we sincerely hope that people will like the movie.

I’m not sure if this is some usual line or saying in 🇨🇳 with some literary relevance but the fact that it is associated with WYB gets me! XZS is known to do really good captions but using this? after all that happened with magnolia noms? i think it is not a coincidence. this feels like an indirect message. i am positive that they really intend to wish menghai a happy anniversary but the hidden meaning is not lost on me.

not only that…. they seem to match yibo-official’s caption too.

The wind blowing in the wilderness // The wind galloping in the wilderness 🍃

the wind. in the mainland, WOF title is called Wind Chaser. i can understand it from YBO’s perspective and why that was included. but XZS? another coincidence????

and the caption for YBO had a paper plane which is a symbol that we associate with them 🫶🏼 ( i have a post for this but i cannot find it lol. if someone here does, please comment. )

and as for the drawing, it’s very common for cpf to think that xz made it. not saying that ybo has no team of his own that can do it for him, but more of this is xz’s love language. making art for the person he adores. the fact that the t-shirt chibi yibo was wearing is inspired by that video of him dancing in 2011 was a nice touch.

the cartoon was supposed to be based on the photo which was from the olympics performance rehearsal — but to make it fit the Children’s Day theme, that was added. it is made by someone who loves him!

not to mention some other details that stood out to us. i bet you can analyze each in every composition of it and make a cpf analysis but these are the interesting bits:

but i’m more partial to that pig nose on the shoes! hahahahaha! when fans tease yibo, he becomes a pig instead of a lion/panther and this cheeky addition i feel like can only be added by someone close to him. a person who can get away with it 😂😂😂

the photo used had him with the green/pink shoes! plus the video shared, THAT HAT! ( i linked part 3 of my cpn post in but parts 1&2 are there for those who are not familiar or want a refresher) ! he is showing off again! can’t blame him tho.

sources: one / two / three / four

-END.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

✨The Sherlock Holmes Museum✨

221B Baker Street, London

hi turtles! here it comes: the photo post to the sherlock holmes museum. i'll include my favorite pictures & the information i could actually keep in my silly brain (probably none). i'll number the pictures, so you can keep track.

please keep in mind that the place was pretty crowded and i couldn't take pictures of everything in perfect quality/from the perfect perspective.

the entrance (1) looks like this:

i especially loved the little blue sign (2) above and the "policeman" (3) dressed in a victorian policeman outfit - with a sherlock holmes tie 🥹 (i didn't get a picture of that, i thought it'd be weird to take a picture of him)

the living room (4).

there were two comfy looking armchairs, a fireplace (sadly without billy the skull 😔), and in the right corner you see the chemistry set of Holmes. with the violin right next to it.

in general, they tried to create the rooms exactly how Sir Arthur Conan Doyle described them in his books. it was described as small but with two big windows to the west side (was it west?? i can't remember...).

on the left you can see the desk (5), which i think was used by both: Holmes and Watson (not 100% sure about that tho). on the right you see what was hung up on the walls (6) (the guns lol).

on the opposite wall of the fireplace, you see the shooting marks (7), made by Holmes: the intials "VR" stand for "Victoria Regina" (= Queen Victoria) (Holmes' way to say "long live the queen" i guess? this man was fun when bored...)

and i took a picture of the "The Times" page (8) which laid on the desk because... apparently! i was in the musuem on the day Holmes and Watson moved in together (*johnlock heart explodes a little bit*) and you can see the date somewhere on there... (i found it. but i think she lied to us... imo it says july the 5th and i was there on august the 27th (*dramatic voice* UNbelievable! *excessive eye-roll*) (okay maybe i misunderstood her??? idk))

let's move on to Sherlock Holmes' bedroom.

on the bed were laying two boxes (9). one was with... idk random Holmes-stuff (honestly can't remember what she said to that...) and the second was with the iconic deerstalker inside. funfact about the deerstalker: ACD never mentioned this to be a signature feature of our beloved detective. this only became a thing later on. some dude, whose name i can't remember (i warned you about my silly brain), just decided he'll use that in a film production, because it would be much more accessible for the common folk. deerstalkers were mainly used by hunters and the working class. because Sherlock Holmes, who lived in a rather wealthy neighborhood, was a man of the upper class, he would have worn a different kind of hat (10).

this post is part 1 of a series, because apparently you can't upload more than 10 pictures per post (🙄🙄🙄). links for the next parts will be included once all have been uploaded.

-> part 2

-> part 3

keep reading - tag list

tag list! @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @a-victorian-girl @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @safedistancefrombeingsmart

[dani-luminae]

So this post introduced me to posters for Wish that I hadn't seen before and BUCKLE UP FOLKS CAUSE I'M ABOUT TO GO NUTS

REFERENCES GALOOOOORRRRE! There's Rapunzel's lanterns reflected on the water as well as her sun symbol painted on the cottage pillars, Moana's (Te Fiti's heart) spiral on the rocks to the left, a racoon and the partridges which I chose to believe are a Snow White reference (of course the racoon could be Meeko from Pocahontas, too.) The flower resembles the Sundrop flower (with the wrong amount of petals and no glow.) There's also a carving on the rocks just below the cottage, but I can't make out what the carving is. Can you?

EVEN MORE REFERENCES GALORE AND FOLKS I'M GONNA SCREAM! In Wish bubbles at the top of the screen we have: the Elephant Graveyard from The Lion King; Ariel from The Little Mermaid; an unknown for certain man standing at a ship's wheel, possibly Eric; Sleeping Beauty's dress; an unknown scene that looks like water; Be Prepared from the Lion King (the crescent moon finale); a figure with a staff or a flag, maybe Radcliffe from Pocahontas?; Gaston, flexing; and someone reaching out for what looks like the moon, sitting on something that looks vaguely like a fish (Aladdin? Quasimodo? Milo in Atlantis?)

BELOW the Wish orbs, though, we've got Disney Villain props all tossed around! At the back worktable we see Dr. Facilier's hat, next to a Sundrop flower, and a rack of antlers and fur that I'm gonna take as a Gaston reference. On the front worktable we have the Poison Apple from Snow White, some Tarot cards of Facilier's, bottled polyps from Ursula's lair, and in the stacks of scrolls below we can see Judge Claude Frollo's hat.

Aladdin's lamp and Bruno's ruana are sitting on a rock to the right, and between them are colorful bugs from The Lion King! The trees have faces which made me think of Grandmother Willow but not sure fully. Up at the top we can see a silhouette of Lumiere on one of the branches, and a racoon holds Chip the teacup! The owl and bluebirds are of course typical "princess in the forest" companions and I'll let you draw your own conclusions, but we also have Bambi and Faline (both adults) in the background! One of the chipmunks in the foreground holds a piece of broken green stone like the kind that stores Bruno's visions, right above a turtle that I'm certain is a Snow White reference! Also, the flowers covered in visible dewdrops as well as the mushrooms remind me of "The Nutcracker Suite" animations in Fantasia!

And last (and with the least references I could find,) on the left we have one of Belle's books sitting on the steps! A farmer with the giant pumpkin that might have been Cinderella's carriage has just gone past in the background, and Simba's symbol from The Lion King can be seen on the opposite side of the steps, close to the yellow pinwheel. The two children are sitting on a pirate ship under two stars... maybe the Second Star to the Right? The last woman on the right has a pattern on her vase that I can't quite make out, and Valentino has a dandelion in his mouth (my first impression is the dandelions that Belle holds while singing her I Want song, but I could be wrong!)

Did I miss any references? Can you spot any that I didn't see? Please let me know!

[dancingdonatello]

I saw both your Donatello and Leo posts for “clothes don’t make the turtle” and was wondering if you could do one for raph w/ his s/o? :3

Rise Raphael x gn reader

With Raph, it’s not really a big deal.

It’s just time spent between you and him. He put on some nice music and you two dressed up to match each other.

He picks out clothes for you and you pick out clothes for him and you both do a little cat walk to show each other.

And when you two wear matching clothes, he makes sure to take pictures. Lots of pictures.

Of course, his favorite on you is a pair off slowly clothes that just makes you look so, so soft.

He also likes putting a lot of hats on you. Cowboy hats, baseball caps, fedoras. Whatever kind of hat he can find.

He just thinks it’s cute.

But he especially, really, absolutely loves when you wear the color red. It’s a hard to miss, bold color. Plus, it matches him obviously.

Even if it’s just the colors of your shoes. If you’re wearing red, his heart jumps in his chest. He hopes that every time you pick out something red to wear, you think of him.

[goldrosh]

in the last sugar rush post from 2023, @accio-victuuri asked us to list our top 5 cpns from last year but since I'm late I thought on doing a post. thank you for those recopilatory monthly posts, btw! they're very helpful and when you read them you also relive those beautiful moments. and overall for always keeping us updated about everything going on with our boys.

so here's my top 5 cpns from 2023

the inner mongolia saga: I decided to call it like that for everthing that happened from the moment xz went to film there. it started with yb's first selfie of 2023 and all the clowning about him perhaps visiting the loch set, the infamous black cloth, all the speculation about him owning a leica camera, the confirmation of him owning a leica camera, xz's birthday post that also had him posing with a leica camera, the camping pic, and everything culminating with yb's own pics taken in inner mongolia. honestly, september and october were such busy months to being a clown, I love how everything just developed little by little and fell like pieces of a puzzle.

the suspicious change on xz's filming schedule: when ybo reported that yb won't be able to participate in the star of the one and only promo period, everyone got worried, since when yb takes days off while sick? the next day tho, some reports came in; after days of going to film at a certain early time, xz was going a little bit late. "interesting" said every turtle in the world, "let's see how this continues". and boy, it did continue, casually until yb's recovery. a happy coincidence.

anniversary?: when we all thought nothing was toping the inner mongolia saga, november 19 happened. and to think everything started very innocently with yb updating his douyin and then everything scalating into the possibility of them sorting out the seriousness of their relationship one november 19... I honestly loved how everyone started to bring up years of clues and how it just made sense.

wedding outfit: this one is very self explanatory, their weinbo night outfits that strangely looked like wedding outfit. I would have loved to see them both walking out the red carpet but we all know how weinbo loves to self sabotage I mean I enjoy when they do that but not that night! I like to think that the reason why they chose those outfits is because their first weinbo night is also called "divorce night" and, after years of not attending the same event, they wanted to give us a wedding night. yes, I am that much of a clown, thank you.

ybo's birthday post: this one hit me so hard that I still tear up whenever I read "yb, the sunset is very beautiful". to most, that post it's just a very well written birthday wish, but if you're like me and believe xz wrote it then knowing that these two boys love each other so deeply is reason enough to warm your heart. "time does not have a pause button, yet you seem to hold the password for the occasional pauses in the world". cry with me 🥲

honorific mention to: THE hat (yb made it hard to ignore lmao), everything is lovely and its promo (at first I wasn't trying to read too much into the colors that were used to promote the ep but then the bone necklace appeared and changed my mind), mysterious driver (just so you all know I'm totally sold on this) and overall this year that seemed to have them together for longer periods of time.

[spiderfunkz]

𖦹 ˖ ࣪ aquarium date headcanons

— characters : earth 1610!miles morales, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar, hobie brown.

— a/n : more atsv characters headcanons bc i love them, go request some prompts for them my requests are open!!! not proofread btw i'm lazy.

✶ miles morales :

brings his sketchbook with him and draws all of your favorite sea animals, he probably, accidentally, dropped a pencil into one of the shorter tanks. he loves listening to your rambles about the different sea animals there. he reads the descriptions of each sea creature so he can talk about them with you.

holds your hand as you look at the different fishes swimming around, but gets distracted and just admires you instead. he will buy you matching things from the gift shop like matching bracelets or pins & surprises you after when you two go home with matching shark onesies and lots of cuddles.

✶ gwen stacy :

she'll bring her camera with her so she can take candid photos of your beautiful smile as you look at the different sea creatures. she loves the dark blue lighting and the quiet atmosphere of aquariums, she loves holding your hand in comfortable silence as you two watch the different sea creatures swim around.

you two will sit down for hours, pointing at the different fishies & saying "that ones us!" or "that one is literally you".

she 100% had a sea animal phase, specifically a shark phase. once you accidentally let go of her hand for a second and completely lost her for a good 20 minutes, only to find her in the shark exihibit. at the end of the day she'll buy you matching shark hats!!

✶ pavitr prabhakar :

wears a "i love sea animals" shirt and fish pj pants to the aquarium. same like gwen, he deifintely had a sea animal phase at some point in his life, more specifically a stingray phase. you two will ramble about your favorite sea animals while eating the fish shaped pizza in the food court. he brings his digicam to the aquarium so he can take videos of the turtles and fishes swimming, and you of course! he loves catching your natural laugh or smile on camera.

loves the touch pool, almost pushed a kid because they were in his way. loves telling you random facts about his favorite sea animals, he'll say things like "did you know stringrays are born fully developed?" with a :D face — "that's really cool, pav." you smile.

✶ hobie brown :

probably banned from most aquariums because he tried swimming in most of them.. but after a few tries you finally found one where he isn't banned! yet.

he loves marine life as much as you do, but he mostly does the listening as you ramble on different topics, besides he loves listening to your voice. he'll follow you around the aquarium, his hand holding your waist. as you watch the jellyfishes swim around, he's watching you, he's admiring how the blue light captures your beauty so perfectly, he's admiring how perfect your hair and self is.

"do you see that one?" you point, eyes focused on the jellyfishes. "yeah, i see it darling." he replies, his heart eyes still looking at you.

[moonshynecybin]

have we talked about what valentine’s day looks like for rosquez. post-reconciliation imo it’s vale going overboard sending marc 500 roses it’s an instagram photo dump showing him off with a borderline-obscene caption (imagine they’ve gone public. perhaps in the aftermath of the coming out au?) it’s custom la perla and solid gold nipple clamps. marc secretly glowing abt being showered in affection it’s proof vale loves him and isn’t going to leave him

also im just putting this together but isn’t valentine’s day like. the day of vale’s name? something like that? EVEN MORE reason for him to be super into it.

let’s not talk abt 2013-2015 valentine’s day…

you are a genius who has predicted something i was literally already writing!!!!! he absolutely gets him hot girl sex gifts for their valentine's day slash joint birthday week which is the hot girl sex gift SUPERBOWL for them. personally i was thinking lingerie and i wrote a tiny fic (~500 words) about it thats under the cut! get outta my brain !

There’s package sitting inside Marc’s motorhome, after testing.

That's not unusual in itself. It’s his birthday tomorrow, and he’s been fielding various gifts from his sponsors for the last few days, all brightly colored hats and huge sunglasses— messages from whatever company, carefully typed on impersonal letterhead. But this one feels different. It’s unmarked, the box a smooth white cream— not very tall, but wide. Marc crosses to the table the box is resting on and lifts off the lid, testing the weight. It’s heavier than it looks, well made.

It’s clearly expensive.

Once he sets the lid to the side,the first thing his eyes catch on is tissue paper, delicate and silvery, folded neatly. A small card made of thick paper is nestled on top, just over where the carefully arranged wrapping conjoins. He picks it up.

Marc, familiar handwriting spells, and Marc smiles. He knows who sent this. It's not one of his sponsors. Thought this would suit you, I hope you like it. -Vale. There’s a small heart scribbled after the message, followed by a cartoon turtle, unhurried and messy. Beloved.

But it’s still not Valentino’s usual style, and Marc raises an eyebrow, curious. It's actually not technically his birthday, its the day before— it’s Vale’s birthday, and there’s not a lot he wouldn’t give Marc in person, especially when they've been floating around the same paddock. Typically, if Vale is going to give him something, he likes to be there. Likes to lay back and watch Marc’s face as he opens whatever elegantly wrapped treasure he’s picked out for him, eyes greedy on Marc’s expression.

He likes to know that Marc enjoys the things he gives him.

So it’s notable, that he isn’t here. That he left this in Marc's motorhome while he was testing on track, just before Vale was scheduled to spend a little bit of time running things through with his academy riders. He had wanted Marc to find this alone. To turn over what to do with it. Contemplate any possibilities.

Marc's skin feels too warm, too sensitive, the cool air of the motorhome giving him goosebumps. His thumb lingers in the edge of the tissue paper, feeling its thin edges, reveling in the sensation. In the way the anticipation fills him up, a pleasant buzz that thrums under his skin.

It's not dissimilar from the moment before a race, that knifes edge of expectation.

He bites his lip and opens the present, carefully moving the paper away to reveal what’s inside. Something silky catches against his knuckles. He stops.

It’s Vale’s birthday, he remembers.

This isn’t a gift for him, exactly. Pale yellow silk and lace greets him, delicate. Carefully constructed. Marc doesn’t have to check to know they’re in his size.

He grins.

[tmntheadcanons]

tmnt 2003 Michelangelo headcanons

Mikey talks to himself when he's alone. He'll either have a full on conversation with himself or he'll narrate what he's doing like he's being interviewed for a tv show. Like when he's cooking he'll be like "So folks you're gonna wanna fold not stir your batter." or like "Now for this part you're gonna need to use some hand mixers, these are a great set my brother Don found them in the garbage."

There's like a sweet old lady who has her own cooking show and Mikey worships her like he has all her cook books and if he's in a cooking bind he'll be like "What would betty do?". He just talks about her like they're old friends he'll be like "Yeah this is a new recipe. Betty told me to use cream instead of milk"

Or he'll be like "What are we making tonight? Let's ask Betty" and open up his cookbook

For tv shows Mikey will watch just about anything he has no standards. I like to think that when they first got the tv set up, they only had like free-to-air channels and Mikey just likes having something on the tv. Like he'll be watching the shopping channel and just be like "omg that's so tacky"

Like he'll be yelling at the tv and everyone will be like wow what's mikey watching? and it's the shopping channel

One day he was left unsupervised and actually called cause he didn't know you needed a credit card and he'll be mad about that for the rest of his life cause he was gonna buy like a fancy toaster or something (and then he complained to donnie about it so donnie modified the toaster for him)

Also he's memorized most of the commercials jingles and he sings them constantly and everyone hates him for it.

Mikey writes and draws his own super hero comics in a big notebook and it's an ongoing story he's had for years. He's got like a self insert turtle-titan main character and he's created cameos for all his brothers too. Splinter is the mentor, Leo is the leader of like the superhero force, Donnie is his sidekick and he made Raph the damsel in distress out of spite.

But he's a pretty good artist. And I feel like he would be good at music too. Like he has an old keyboard in his room he likes to just mess around with. Nothing too fancy but sometimes he'll just play little jingles on it. Or 90% of the time it's him mashing the sound effects.

But april also plays piano and when she's there she'll show him a few little songs like she taught him heart and soul and they'll play that together.

Mikey is a couch hog if you sit beside him he is gonna put his feet on you. Like he'll be laying on the couch and he'll move his feet so someone can sit and then he'll put them right back down on top of them. And you can shove him off but he'll just stick them right back. Him and Raph go through this cycle every time they sit together.

Mikey collects human accessories like he's got a bunch of hats and sunglasses and necklaces. I feel like he would like to accessorize.

Mikey has a highlighter orange beach shirt with flamingos and palm trees and he's obsessed.

Also he has one of those tacky ab aprons he refuses to get rid of.

[ray-jaykub]

Hi! I'm a new follower! @hagelpaimon recommended you for this specific request. If you're interested, I was wondering if you could write some Bayverse fluff for me.

F!Reader has a southern accent and even though it isn't thick, there are certain words she says that makes her sound like a country bumpkin. And her turtle S/O (lovingly, of course) teases her for it. You can make it for each turtle or just Donnie. And you can make it NSFW if you wanna. Whatever you think fits! Thank you and happy writing 🐢💙❤️💜🧡

Thought I would crawl out of my adult cave and answer an ask that spoke to me. And as a country bumpkin (hoot hoot, very, very south georgia), I can say this hits the mark. I'm gonna do a little of all the turtles and

--------------

Now, as someone who grew up around people who talked like me, I assumed I could hide it well. But that wasn't until I started sending audio messages back and forth with @moxfirefly did I realized how bad it was... Now I've never tried writing a southern accent, despite having one, so bear with me.

------------

Leo:

- He finds it so endearing and sweet and just can't find it in his heart to make fun of you

- Like, the way you call his name? The twang makes him smile because that means time with you

- His brothers and him obviously don't get out and talk to people, so I can imagine they're probably a lil stumped on why you sound the way you do

- Luckily, Leo is an old western movie fan, so at least he knows Cowboys.... please be patient with him

- If you're shy about the way you talk, he won't acknowledge it, but over time, he hopes you two get comfortable enough that you'll express yourself more

- Seriously, can't get over when you call him or his brother's names. Like omg they just said "Dawnie" and the way you pronounce Manhattan?

Raphael:

- Why you sound like that??

- Definitely believes you're from some weird part of New York, or God forbid Jersey

- Won't and will not understand unless you play country music for him and go like "these are my people"

- makes you a country mix, even if you don't like country. He's trying! You can't deny him that

-He says it's to make you feel "closer to home" and honestly, it lowkey works when you're feeling home sick

- He sees a cowboy film??? Prepare for him to throw a cowboy hat on your noggin

-Save a horse ride a cowboy, yeah? (I'm cringing)

Donnie:

- LOVES IT, ADORES IT

- He's really big on dialect and accents, especially for someone he fancies

- Will ask you to say certain words at random times of the day, early mornings when you haven't woken up, late at night when you're sleepy

- When you're angry???

- He has to hold out on bringing the recorder. But he's taking in every word

- Just imagine yelling at him, and he's looking at you with big doe eyes because wow... when was a country accent kinda sexy??

- He has to say one of his favorite things is when you both are whispering, and he leans down to hear you better, woof 😮‍💨

- He needs a southern girl 😤 GIVE HIM A TASTE OF THE SOUTH

Mikey:

- Will tease you, mock you, repeat every word you say... with love of course

- just expect to hear his lil giggle after you've said something particularly southern

- If you're the type to say our phrases (colder than a witches tit, you call undies breeches, you make crazy comparisons) he will adopt them and look stupid doing it

- Just imagine Mikey, surfer dude, New Yorker, saying, "I reckon"

- Like baby... please hush

- lowkey the one that helped Raph make the country mix tape, added a few personal favorites (the fucking wal-mart yodeling kid, for some reason)

- Gets you boots, even if you don't wear them, and tries really hard to convince you to dress like Barbie in her cowgirl outfit

- Never a dull moment with this doofus

........Go Dawgs

[withacapitalp]

Quiet

For the STWG Daily Prompt today! This one is a little roundabout, but I just wanted to write some of the boys being goofy little besties!!!

-----

“Class, this is Dustin Henderson. He just moved here all the way from Arizona, isn’t that interesting?” Mrs. Wren said, gently nudging the boy further to the front of the room and giving him a soft smile, “Dustin, why don’t you tell us about yourself a little?” 

Dustin looked like he would rather eat raw goat brains, and Mike couldn’t blame him. If Dustin was a kid who looked like Jimmy or Troy, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, but Dustin was a chubby short kid with a shock of wild curly hair and two missing front teeth. His shirt was black with a picture of a microscope with the words ‘Enjoy the little things’ underneath it, and he was wearing a wide brim hat with Einstein's theory of relativity stamped on it. 

The new kid was a total nerd, and Mike’s heart went out to him. 

“I moved here from Flagstaff. Um that’s a city in Arizona-” Dustin started to mumble, his eyes firmly on his shoes. 

“Wow. We thought it was in Canada,” Troy interrupted with a mean little laugh. 

A twitter went around the class, which was completely stupid in Mike’s opinion. It wasn’t even a funny joke, just something mean to say, and it made Dustin cringed back like he had been physically hit, his shoulder curling inward as he reached up to tug at the brim of his cap. 

“Shut up, Troy,” Mike said without really thinking. He kind of wished he could take it back when Troy’s entire desk clump turned to him with murder in their eyes, but the tiny grateful look Dustin shot up at him made it worth it. Sort of. 

“Boys,” Mrs. Wren droned, calling them both out even though Mike hadn’t done anything but defend Dustin when she should have. She sighed and shook her head, turning back to their newest student, keeping him on the pyre when she could have just let him go free. 

“What was your favorite part of Flagstaff, Dustin?”

“I really liked going hiking with my dad,” Dustin answered, slightly perking up, “There’s this mountain called Humphrey’s Peak by us, it’s the biggest mountain in Arizona and it’s the start of the San Francisco peaks! There’s these lizards there called Gila Monsters, they’re the only venomous lizards in North America, and-” 

Mike was leaning forward, drawn in by curiosity about the strange creatures, but oddly enough Dustin cut himself off with a sudden jolt, going back to his curled up turtle position from before. Their teacher waited for a second more before sighing again and adjusting the papers on her desk. 

“Well, we don’t have much in the way of lizards here in Hawkins, but hopefully your classmates will help you to explore some of the local wildlife. We’re going to have some silent reading time now students, so take out your books. Dustin do you need me to help you pick one?” She asked, finally cutting him loose. 

“No I’m okay,” Dustin said as he scurried to his seat, immediately opening his backpack and digging in it, conveniently not looking up at any of the boys near him. He pulled out a huge book, burying his face in it effectively cutting off any attempt to catch his eye. 

Maybe he just needed another push. Mike was still pretty curious about those monsters. 

“I’m Mike,” He offered. 

“My name is Lucas,” Lucas added, catching what Mike was thinking immediately and following through like always. 

“I’m Will, it’s nice to meet you,” Will rounded off, holding out his hand for Dustin to shake. 

“Hi,” Dustin said shortly, still nestled tightly into his book. 

Mike’s brow furrowed, and he looked away from Dustin to his friends, seeing if they had a plan. Lucas shrugged, and Will turned his face down to where he was secretly doodling under the book their teacher had assigned him. They were both just giving in that easily, which was just not acceptable. 

Not when the prospect of information on a giant lizard was at their fingertips. 

“What are you reading?” Mike tried again, still not willing to admit defeat. 

“Oh this is Blackmoor. It’s a rule book,” Dustin explained, holding the book so they could see the front cover picture of a huge castle on a tall rock and a smaller picture of a wizard. Will was instantly intrigued by the wizard, leaning into Dustin’s space to point at the title above the castle. 

“What’s Dungeons and Dragons?”

It was like a switch flipped. Dustin’s eyes lit up and he put the book flat on the desk so they could see inside, giving them all an eager little grin as he scooted his chair closer to the desks. 

“It’s this super cool thing where you make up characters and adventures and use dice to decide what happens. My character is a bard who has a flute that can put people to sleep and this badass dagger!” Dustin exclaimed, pulling out a notebook so they could see a rudimentary drawing of a man holding a knife and a flute. Mike was sure Will could’ve done a much better version, but it was still pretty awesome. But Dustin wasn’t done, pulling out a tiny figurine and putting it in the middle of their desks. 

“The game has got all these monsters like a mimic that pretends to be a treasure chest and this one is called the demogorgon-”

And then it was just over. Dustin jolted back, snatching his hand back like it had been caught in a cookie jar and pulling his hat practically over his eyes.  

“I mean, it’s just a game,” Dustin murmured, playing with his fingers and tucking his chin to his chest. 

Damn! Again! Now Mike was getting pissed. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” Mike asked, frustrated that twice he had missed out on something fun. 

“What?” Dustin replied, looking confused. 

“Start talking about something cool and then cut yourself off right in the middle,” Lucas explained, already aware of what was annoying Mike. That was why they were best friends- Lucas just always seemed to know what was bugging him, “It’s weird.” 

Weird was apparently the wrong word to use. All of the joy in the air instantly vanished, and Dustin’s shoulders were at his ears. Mike shot Lucas a tiny glare, the two of them having a silent argument as Dustin gathered up the courage to explain. 

“Oh, um…My dad told me that I should try to be quieter if I wanted to make friends,” Dustin whispered, his cheeks beet red as he stammered out the words, “He um- he said it’s uh rude, you know? To not to let other people talk once in a while?” 

Ouch. 

Mike’s chest instantly seized up, and he looked down at his own desk, his copy of Tuck Everlasting staring back up at him. A quick sneak peek up at Lucas and Will revealed that they were doing the same, Will’s lip caught firmly between his teeth and Lucas’s mouth in a thin straight line. 

It wasn’t exactly the same, but all three of them knew what it was like to be told to be quiet. They knew how hard it could be to have everything you love ridiculed or talked down to. Usually it was Troy or Jimmy or some of the other boys in their class doing it though, not their own parents.  

“Tell us about the demogorgon,” Mike declared, speaking for all three. Judging by the looks he was being given not only by Lucas and Will, but also by Dustin, he had said the exact right thing. 

[afreakingdork]

Crush Too Much - Part 5

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

Regretting your decision to opt for the less expensive pair weighed on your mind as you blew warm air into your gloved hands. Winter was in full swing, but neither the current nor impending cold of the evening had yet to freeze your warm spirits. To say the stars had aligned over your last three months would be an understatement. Though you had met up with him in a few fleeting times after work, Donnie and you now texted on a daily basis. They weren’t earth shattering conversations, but you felt confident enough to text him even if you were just bored. While he seemed borderline nocturnal, he was never one to ignore a message. He indulged you at your silliest and was there for you as much as he could be if you were stressed out. The fall semester finals had been particularly draining, but finding a care package left for you at work containing your favorite snacks and a library map on helpful books is the only time you'd almost been brought you to tears. He was never overly sweet, but he paid attention and that mattered just as much if not more.

Your hands warmed, you stuffed them into your pockets to retain the heat. Keeping your arms close to your body, you took a few lazy steps in a circle on the corner you were waiting at.

Your others friends had started to pick up on the way you stared at your phone. You were coy about it, but their cheeky smiles spoke volumes. Your ability to maneuver these goading situations had been greatly amplified by the time you had spent with Leo. In a far lower frequency than Donnie, you’d texted with the blue-themed man. He was far less interested in messages and more in the capers you executed. He often only began a digital conversation with the intent of planning the next outing. Since your first gallery crash, he’d successfully ushered you as his cohort into two other events thus far. They mostly revolved around him rubbing elbows, but he’d always sneak in that same question he’d been asking about your feelings.

Ruminating over the time you’d known the Hamatos made you realize you hadn’t spoken to Leo since your last outing. You shrank down into your coat as you remembered Leo last asking his question just as you were about to leave. You’d dropped the defining ‘like’ word to describe your feelings for Donnie before literally taking off. Had he been ignoring you because you could only admit it by essentially running away after?

“There you are.” Donnie’s voice drifted in from your left and all other concerns seemed to evaporate. You tried to keep the twinkle in your eye to a minimum as you rounded on a heel to greet him. He was, of course, dressed in his winter clothes and though you had seen them before, your heart still skipped a beat. It took a lot of will power to not play with the flaps of his trapper hat. You loved how they were just a winterized version of his goggles.

“Was I hard to spot?” It was one of the few times you were thankful for your mouth moving faster than your mind could keep up.

“Not at all.” He tipped his head to one side, his half-cocked smile stretching across his face. “At first glance with everyone bundled up you would think so, but every person carries themselves a little differently.”

“Vigilant as always.” You noted, rolling on the balls of your feet. He nodded languidly and from within your coats pockets you fumbled to locate a folded piece of paper. “I could spot you no matter how big the crowd though.”

“I would make a joke about my devilishly good looks, but I know exactly what you’re going to say.” He slumped at the missed opportunity.

“Purple?” You mused, pulling a hand out victorious.

“Purple.” He snapped back dryly. “Is that the pass? I can’t believe you actually printed it; so very archaic of you.”

“And just liked we discussed before, part of the email said you have to come with printed passes. Sure, there was also a QR code, but I didn't want to get it wrong.” You pouted and unfurled the paper.

“The fact that they have an inconsistency of that nature doesn’t reflect well on our plans for the evening.” He held out his hand and you passed him the form.

“Sure, the whole thing is really loose, but we also get to see a movie for free and before everyone else so…” You drew out the syllable goading him.

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth was upturned. “’Win, win.’”

“Exactly! Let’s go get in line!” You spun around and marched toward the theater with Donnie in tow.

“How many of these showings have you gone to?” He wondered.  

“This is my third one since I found out about it maybe… a year ago?”  You tilted your head trying to remember the first movie you’d seen this way.

“So you and a guest,” He gestured to the both of you. “See a movie for free in a showing set up by the studio’s distribution department in an attempt to garner word of mouth?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You slowed as the theater’s bright lights loomed overhead.

Donnie made a small hum of frustration as he studying the passes he still held. “I keep looking for some sort of fine print or detail on the larger machinations of the principle. The logistics of the ploy just don’t seem like they’d play out in the movie’s favor.”

“Still thinking it over?” You giggled. “You worried about it so much over text, but you’re still here.”

“I want to see this film.” His head snapped to you with a deadly serious expression.

You bit your lip to keep more laughter from bubbling up. His staunch attitude was so cute. “I mean you know the catch…” As if on cue the two of you approached the sectioned off line where about 7 people were already queued.

“Ah yes, the nefarious ‘first come, first serve.’” Donnie narrowed his eyes as the two of you maneuvered your way behind the ropes. “In this weather it is an obvious ploy to weed out the weak. Those left standing will be the harsher critics.” It was as if an ancient duty had been placed on his shoulders.

“If we’re supposed to critique it more, wouldn’t that not help the whole ‘word of mouth’ thing?” You posed the question knowing it would frustrate him.

His lips pursed in annoyance and he glared at the paper as he reclined against the brick exterior of the theater. Behind him, you pressed a shoulder against the cold wall and listened as he listed off reasons the showing took place publicity to pre-screen runs. You wondered how long he had scoured the internet for research. You’d later pat yourself on the back with how good you were at multitasking. It took great still to simultaneously absorb all his information while both using the time as an excuse to appreciate the glory of him. Using a finger to draw in the air he made a poignant note about how seats in the theater is the optimal view were reserved for critics in an official capacity. You used the motion of warming your gloved hands yet again, but this time as a means to hide the adoring smile spread on your face. The texting was fine, but being able to watch him dispense large swaths of information wasn’t even a contest. You had it so bad.

“To sum it up, there’s just a frustrating lack of clarity.” Donnie groaned, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps in place to shake off the problem that had no real solution.

“That’s probably it.” Your speech adding heated moisture to your fingertips. “I bet they keep us in the dark so they can do whichever of those they want.”

“Make the terms vague so the signing party can’t protest them since they aren’t outlined…” Donnie nodded as he digested the information. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Who’s nefarious now?” You chuckled, now leaning your head against the brick and committing to the tilted angle your body was at.

“I never said that I wasn’t.” Donnie tilted his head and gave a nonchalant grin that caused that all familiar stomach flip you’d never get used to. He was far too lethal for his own ignorant good.

“Bad guys get ticket responsibility then.” You needed to switch gears so you nodded to the paper still in his hand.

He reviewed it lightly before folding it along the lines you had created earlier. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

“I wouldn’t go that far!” You joked, feigning to roll your eyes at the dramatics. A small silence fell and you watched Donnie shove the square into his own jacket pockets along with his hands. The cold wasn’t unbearable, but the next hour and a half standing in it would surely push your limits. You blinked before screwing your eyes shut. You had gotten so caught up in the sudden euphoria of meeting Donnie that you completely forgot your ulterior motive for the evening. You would have beaten yourself up further if it weren’t for the close proximity of your companion. You withheld a sigh and opened your eyes with renewed determination: you were going to use this time trapped in a line to finally figure out what on earth the man did for a living.

Going over the facts again, it wasn’t exactly as if he’d been dodging the question; you hadn’t asked him outright. You’d pieced together a few things. What he did, his brothers seemed to do also. He was an inventor. He’d sent photos of few minors mechanical objects he had been working on in what looked like a full blown lab setting. He’d mentioned fixing a myriad of things so he had technical ability across a tremendous amount of fields. His family seemed to consist of 2 dads, 3 blood brothers, an April O’Neil, and what seemed to be 3 separate Caseys. It all meant he had a seemingly unlimited amount of funds, schooling that outpaced his age by several decades, and the close confidence of a New York star reporter. None of those things seemed to add up to any specific career and it was driving you crazy.

Refreshed on the details, you prepared to address him. You weren’t sure if you were going to ask outright, but you at least had a solid time frame. In the time you’d been quiet, you were sure he’d already be scrolling his phone. It had never divided his focus before, but there was always a slim chance this could be the time it created some sort of conversational buffer. Sweeping your gaze to him, you jolted as he seemed to be watching you casually with his phone nowhere in sight. You shrank into the rim of your jacket and briefly wondered if he could read minds.

“How did the meeting with your academic advisor go?”

All those movies about having your breath taken away were all simultaneously right and wrong. There were correct in that it was something that could happen, but woefully mistaken when it came to the circumstances. You couldn’t believe he remembered something noted in a casual text almost two weeks ago. “It…” It took so much willpower to not physically wheeze. “It went good. I’m on track for graduation!”  

“Still not sure what you’ll do after?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. What had you done to receive such good karma?

“No, I’m still torn between masters or going straight into the work force.” You hiked your shoulders up because being tucked into your jacket was sort of cozy. “I could and should probably worry about it more, but the classes have gotten so advanced my focus just tends to be funneled into a day by day.”

He nodded in a way that seemed knowing and that’s when it occurred to you that your karma was twice what you’d even considered. He was laying out the ideal groundwork for your evening’s question. It was so perfect it felt like even meeting him initially had been leading up until now. “Y-you’d know right? Are you like a lab tech or something?” Served in a silver platter and yet you still stuttered. You imagined a picture of your face plastered under the definition of mortified.

He laughed brightly at the question. “Nothing of the like.”

You were now mentally making a list of eliminated possibilities. “Oh, then the lab is…?”

“It’s mine. I’ve had one since I was young.” He seemed amused. “I remember the first thing I ever repaired was papa’s remote. He was happy until he realized it controlled every electrical appliance in the house. You think he would have enjoyed the ease of being able to activate the stove for tea and turn on the fan with a single device, but one fire starts and suddenly your first creation is smashed into a million pieces!” The emotional charting from fond memories to trauma was a steep graph when it came to Donatello.

You balked. Was he some kind of comic book billionaire’s son genius? “Did you explain it to him?” The question seemed to fall out of your mouth.

Still at an emotional crest, Donnie seemed to freeze and then mull the matter over. “I suppose an argument could be made that I was just an innocent tot…”

“AKA you didn’t tell him.” You hide your mouth with a gloved hand to bite back a snicker.

“Look, you’re new to the subject of my delicate youth so I’ll give you some brevity, but let’s just say that trying to maneuver the confusing emotional landscape of being told that you are both not supposed to over explain a present while simultaneously being asked to create such isn’t a line that’s easy to maneuver.” He flatted his hand out in demonstration of the segment that had been drawn for him as a kid.

Considering you didn’t even know what he did for a living, asking about his childhood trauma didn’t seem like the best topic to pursue. If you ever did get that close though, you absolutely had a few choice words for whichever parent seemed to have starved Donnie emotionally. Until then, you’d skirt the topic. “Yeah, that’s a lot for a kid to process, but so is having their own lab?”

“I didn’t start out with a full-service lab.” He tipped his head as if that should have been an obvious fact. “I slowly built one up gathering materials from around the lair and expanded slowly to scrap yards and the like.”

You were torn between asking about the use of ‘lair’ again vs. the fact that he built what looked like a fortune 500 backed venture with his own two hands. Your mouth chose to land you somewhere in-between. “You must have grown up in a big place?”

He glanced away with a fond look. “You could say we grew into it.”

Now that one sounded purposely vague, but you weren’t about to give up. “Is it alright for you to be off tonight?”

“Sure, my brothers can pick up the slack once in awhile. If anything goes completely awry they can always contact me. It used to be we could barely be apart, but we’ve gotten more capable with age.” He scuffed the sole of his boot against the pavement.

How long had they been doing this? You were started to reach a breaking point, but just outright asking still seemed not quite right. “They say skill comes with experience.”        

He gave a dry huff of amusement. “I can say for a fact that isn’t the only way to garner it.”

Was he trying to lead you now? You feared getting lost in the hazy conversation. “Donnie, I-”

“How long would you say that we’ve known each other?” He asked, turning a curious eye up to the clouds.

You snapped your gaze to him to find him still looking skyward. He had not only taken control of the conversation, but had steered it away from where you had wanted it to go. It was like he was purposefully trying to keep you on your toes tonight. It was confusing. “Me?” You gaped.

“Yes, I have an idea of when I would date it back to, but I was curious where’d you place it.” He nodded to the sky as if it had given him some sort of answering before turning to gaze at your once again.

Your brow scrunched as you considered his point. Leo’s ongoing, albeit confusing, dialog  had Impressed upon you the importance of analyzing your feelings at each stage. A particular point of those earlier conversations had been when you’d finally gotten Donnie’s name so that seemed like the logical start point. “The night we got bao.”

He hummed lightly in agreeance. “That’s what I would say also.”

He got quiet again and your shoulders drooped as you waited for some sort of signal that he would continue. It left the two of you seemingly caught in a sort of staring contest, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your gaze was pulled downward as a twitching started around Donnie’s left shoulder. You tilted your head as you watched it spread down his arm. His right hand flew up to grab the appendage and in doing so his body tipped forward at the hips. You were finally just about to open your mouth when he sliced through the silence instead.

“Ah, this is awkward, right!? It’s awkward! You have to say it’s awkward!!” As if he had been holding himself back his arms and legs flailed away from his body.

“Huh?” Your voice was meek, but you were definitely gawking owl-eyed.  

“Thiiiiiis!” he dragged out the syllable in a long whine while pointing between the two of you so quickly you could only see a flurry of moment.

You wanted to respond, but only a weak wheeze of air came out of your lips.

“Annnnd I wasn’t supposed to say anything…” He growled with frustration and swung his body until he was gazing up once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly.

“You weren’t supposed to?” You wondered, feeling so very lost.

“Exactly, I can’t keep this up so I’m just going to come clean.” He turned back towards you with his whole body hung with apologetic dangling. “While completely against my character, I know, I had some concerns regarding my personality.”

You would have done a double take if you weren’t already staring right at him.

“It’s easy to acknowledge that you’ve taken the charge in most aspects of our association and, for the record, I want to clarify that this wasn’t being tallied in a competition sense. Instead, after the initial examination of the poorly executed idea of the evening, not yours, the distribution company, I realized that it would be a poor sport of me to force you to make the conversation for the course of our tenure in line.” His arms were drooping down so low that they almost touched the ground.

You were frozen in astonishment. While you had been suffering under your own self-imposed burden, he had been doing the same to himself.

“So, I then came up with a list of talking points, but as I thought about the specifics of trying to force those into a conversation the whole thing just seemed stale.” He rose up incrementally giving a face of distaste. “So I…” He swallowed hard as if bile was rising in his throat. You watched as he straightened his back before buckling immediately under the stress of whatever he was trying to get out. “IendedupconsulltingAngeloonthematter.” He choked the sentence out as quickly as possible before a shiver ran its course through his whole body.  

“Mikey?” You peeped, trying to make some sound come out of your body. You were relatively familiar with the various nicknames Donnie had for his brothers, but he had spoken so fast you almost weren’t sure you’d caught the right one.

“Yes.” He retorted instantly in a heavily defeated tone. “He has this moronic doctor alter-ego that goes by many names, but always retains the same faux doctorate.”

The ridiculous nature of the statement broke through your frozen exterior and elicited a single dry chuckle from your body. “You each have your own quirks, huh?”

Donnie gave you an only mildly scandalized side glance before continuing. “In this particular session, I spoke with Dr. Friendship, who instructed me to put my phone away, pay attention, and focus on asking questions that don’t have to do with me.”

You snorted; that was even funnier. “But you do those things anyway.”

“So, I’ve been trying all evening to-" He went rigid in his otherwise continued explanation and shot you a suspicious though inquisitive stare. “What did you say?”

“I mean, minus the phone, you always pay attention and I’ve never felt not included.” It was so matter of fact your body bobbed with the point.

“You’re not just saying that?” His doubts were still prevalent.

“How many times have I lied to you?” You shot back your own question, finally getting a feel for the conversation again. Everything was falling back into line.

Donnie did some mental calculations before returning his attentions. “Based on what I know so far, everything seems on the up and up although there are claims I currently can’t verify…” He trailed off giving it once more turn in his mind before deciding. “At this present time I suppose I can say you have not.”  

“Then…?” You pressed, trying to get him to say it always meant he’d be more open to an idea.

“Then I worried over all of this for nothing?” He heaved a sigh, his eyes shut with lingering irritation.

“I mean it’s not nothing. It’s ok to worry.” You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Thank goodness!” His voice raised in a means to push out the rest of his frustrations. He followed it up by giving his body a small shake as if he was dislodging the residuals. Something occurred to him in the process that piqued his interest. “It was awkward though, right?”

“I don’t know if I would say awkward, more like… unnatural?” As you tried to put it into words you realized you might have misstep. “N-Not that I would expect you to act a certain way, obviously!”  

He seemed oblivious to your plight as he was caught up in his own scurrility. “Dr. Friendship may have capped the whole presentation off by stressing the importance of ‘being yourself.’” He rubbed his chin with his eyes closed. “This is why you don’t leave an important detail to closing arguments! I was already plotting my strategy by that point!”

You resisted the urge to point out that it made more sense to just wait to plan until an entire lecture was done, but it seemed like a moot point. “I’m glad that’s out of the way though. It was like I didn’t know how to talk to that not quite Donnie Donnie!”

“Exactly!” He pointed a finger towards you. “That’s what tipped me of! It was like you were trying to ask me something, but I wasn’t speaking as I normally would which meant you weren’t able to act like yourself either.” A smile finally graced his lips as all the pieces fell into place for him.

A hot flush warded off the time you’d spent in the cold because that wasn’t exactly right. He had been honest with you though, so it felt more than overdue for you to do the same. “Actually…”

You waited for him to come back from his thoughts and address you. “Go ahead.”

“I was trying to ask you something.” Your eyes dropped down, unable to hold the eye contact. Even Donnie had been able to manage that.

“Oh, is that so?” He added casually. It seemed like he was fine waiting for you to get up the courage.

With your head tipped down you thought maybe it was time to have a little outburst proclamation of your own. “I’ve been going crazy these last 3 months…” You brought your head up and fisted your gloved hands at your sides. “…trying to figure out what the heck it is that you and your brothers do?!”

“What we… do?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

“Yeah! You have a lab! All of you look like you have the muscle mass of gymnasts. You never seem to worry about money. You know a lot of powerful people, but at the same time it’s like no record of you even exists!” As the words tumbled you, you realized you had never tried to look him up, but you were too far gone in that respect. “You live with your family in what you keep calling a lair. Your hours are totally incomprehensible. I’ve heard other wild words thrown around like ‘topside’ and ‘patrol’ like that’s not a big deal! Plus, we haven’t addressed it and none of you are really hiding it, but are we like dancing around the fact that…” You leaned in close and raised a gloved hand like that you had a secret to share. Donnie blinked before lending you an ear. “…you’re mutants…?”

Donnie spit out a breath of air as a laugh took him. You jolted and he leaned back, holding a hand to his stomach. The line around you both had built up since you first queued and a few people looked at him. He wiped away a single tear from his eye before giving you a lopsided grin. “We do keep it on the down low, but we’ve found that over the years that confidence sells an image of normality. If we just act like we blend right in, we usually get less questions about the matter.”

“You laughed so hard…” You weren’t exactly slighted, but it had been weighing so heavily on your mind that the fact it was so hilarious to him seemed unfair.

“Sorry.” His grin could not be dampened. “It’s just a nice change of pace from someone that isn’t loudly talking about how gross we are. You, on the other hand, have been acting like it was a secret to guard?!” His light air tapered off as he heard the words coming out of his mouth. “Ah, no wait, I see now what you are saying…”

“I didn’t want to out you!” You knew it was childish, but your foot gave a little stomp. He turned away and you could tell he had done so to swallow another laugh. “Why you-!” You swatted at his closest arm lightly. “Now I’m the one who worried over nothing!”

He faced you again and held up a hand like a focus mitt. You gave it a few withheld punches before sighing. “Better?”

“Yes…” You grumbled.

“Good.” He nodded with accomplishment and then shifted into a prepared stance. “Let’s clear the air then. Ask away.”  

A puff of surprised air came out of your mouth. “What kind… are you? I can see the green, but it doesn’t seem like lizard…?”

He nodded his head in a way that said he was evaluating your inquiry. “Turtle.”

You resisted the urge to groan and instead pointed to his shoulders. “Then that’s...”

He turned his head to look at what your pointing and made an educated guess. “A shell? Why yes it is.”

At that you couldn’t help but tip your head back. It really seemed obvious. Coming back down from the stars you lifted a curious finger. “Do you mind if I…?”

He raised a brow and studied the digit. “Go ahead.” The response was affirmative, but tense so you were slow about reaching out and poking the finger into his chest. Under the softness of the coat, you could feel the harder plastron.

“I feel so dumb right now…” You flushed, pulling your finger back as you hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Peeking up at Donnie, you saw him biting his lip against more laughter.

He shook his head, but you could tell there was the slightest hitch to the movement. “As for what we do…” He began before folding his arms in a way that meant he was calculating the best description for it. “We… are the protectors of this city.”

“The…?” You started and stopped. The jokes about mafia and super heroes suddenly felt much less absurd. You were sure to lose sleep tonight.

“That may have been a bit dramatic.” Donnie gave a lighthearted sigh before a serious air drew around him. “Do you remember the invasion of New York?”

“I remember being on a cruise ship and then suddenly returning to a devastated city, like everyone else-” You were stating it like a natural fact until you realized Donnie wasn’t immediately commiserating like anyone else would. You could feel the color drain from your face. “Wh-what are you saying?”

He had a faraway look to him. “That my family…” He breathed deeply and then leaned in closer to you as you had to him earlier. His voice dropped down just for you to hear. “…saved the city.”

Since he leaned into your ear and gave you no time to react, you stared ahead. Your eyes grew large as many tidbits of conversation fell into place. You only realized you hadn’t blinked when the cold air started stinging your retinas. You screwed your eyes shut and sank down into your coat. What had you heard? There was always talk of colored vigilantes over the years, but never any concrete evidence that anyone took seriously. Donatello and his brothers, from your perspective, lived in the city without a care in the world. Donnie himself had just mentioned moving with confidence. “How many other times than that?” You asked the question to the ground before turning to look at him shell-shocked.

The gentle look on his face told you more times than he could mention. “That’s…”

“It’s what we do.”

“Incredible.”

His head moved back incrementally at the passion in your voice. It fanned his ego and he brought his chin up haughtily. “I appreciate the comment, citizen!”

You laughed, but caught the eye he peeked open down at you to gauge your reaction. He seemed satisfied, but you had one last major question. “So, where do you live?”

His shiny demeanor dulled ever so slightly. “Let me pose you a question first to get you into the right mindset.”

“Okay…?” You tilted your head curiously.

“Have you ever thought I stunk?” He watched you closely.

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the clear patient gaze he was giving you. You went from disbelief to utter confusion. “No…?”

An arm jutted out right in front of your face. “No?”

You looked between the appendage and him taking the cue that he obviously wanted you to smell his coat. You leaned forward and gave it a sniff and smelled nothing but the faint scent of fabric softener. “No.” You responded firmly. “And I’ve never thought about it before now so it’s safe to say that can go all the way back to when I first met you.”

“Sewers.” He said staunchly, returning his arm to his side.

“Sew-“ You began to parrot back before the word sunk in. You weren’t only colored incredulous, but dyed in it. “H-hold on-?” You raised your hands as if to stave off the confusion. You looked to him for a hint of comedy, but he watched you uninhibited look that hid nothing. You replayed his earlier mentions of the lair and shook your head. Donnie stayed silent and continued to stare expectantly. You turned the thought over a few more times and then looked at him with renewed determination. “But-”

The smallest wince passed over his features.

“You saved the world!?” As soon as the first word left your lips you caught how loud it was going to be and muffled the rest under your gloved hands.

Donnie’s brows shot up with surprise. You weren’t sure what he thought you were going to say, but what you did caught him off guard. His expression softened and one corner of his mouth turned up. “We’ve even saved Bro’s Pizza and we didn’t even get a discount.”

“Quality and no hand outs!” You grinned with dawning memory even if it had been shared with his brother.

Donnie shook his head like it was a simple annoying fact of the universe. Any lingering tautness to his muscles seemed to melt away. He turned as if he was going to say something else when a loud voice cut through the cold air.

“Alright, folks! We’re going to bring you back in just a few minutes here and if you have two people coming in on your pass then both parties better be here or they will not be admitted! Again, be ready, we’ll call you back in just a few minutes, all parties ready! We’ll be giving out wrist bands so I’d recommend getting one, your seat, and then you can feel free to move about the cabin! Thank you!!!”

Any other point disappeared as Donnie’s face scrunched up with distaste. “That was a joke, right?”

“Nope, that’s about what they say every time.” You couldn’t help, but smile.

“Scoff! It’s beyond sloppy!” He looked to you for reassurance, but found amusement instead. He rolled his eyes away from you and narrowed at where the person had just been standing. “I’m going to find them and have a choice word with them after the film.”

“You’re going to make it hard for me to decide which I want to watch more.” You giggled.

He swept a deadpan expression back to you. “Oh, you were coming whether you wanted to or not.”

“Well good thing I do!” You felt light again.

You attitude must have been infectious because Donnie seemed to brighten also. “From now on, we agree to just ask if we have questions, worries, or what not.”

It was less of a question and more of a statement, but the terms were perfectly agreeable. You still had a slew of burning questions about his hero title, but another attendant walked out to direct the line. You could spread the questions out; it meant you had text fodder for weeks to come and that alone was enough to speed up your heart rate. Why had you ever even worried about feeling cold in this weather when you had him by your side? “That sounds perfect, Donnie.”  

NEXT

[tmnt-tychou]

(Thank you to @turtlebros4u for the amazing cover art!)

Please accept my humble and quickly put-together submission for the TMNT Stocking Stuffer challenge. I didn’t think I was going to write something, but I guess I had one in the tank. (People familiar with the New York area, please forgive me if I got any locations wrong. I’ve never been there.)

GN Reader x 4 Turtles (Action and fluff)

@thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83

A Christmas to Remember

You just wanted all of them to have a nice Christmas. Your very first Christmas with these wonderful, amazing people—turtles—in your life. They were bright, colorful, caring, and it was a shame they were forced to hide below ground, in the dark. Especially around the holidays. You wanted to do something special for them.

Unfortunately, the lively, energetic turtles you had known in the summer turned into slothful, cranky, sleepy reptiles in the winter. With the temperatures dropping as Christmas grew closer, they spent more and more time sleeping. Sometimes over twelve hours at one time. Splinter told you this was normal for them. Turtles experienced a slow down in their metabolism. Not quite a hibernation, but it made them listless. For a regular turtle, this was normal. For a mutant ninja turtle, this looked more like winter depression to you.

They didn't want to do anything. Normally ravenous, they didn't even care to eat as their metabolism slowed. Cuddling up on the couch in a turtle pile and watching movies was about their only speed, and most of the time, they would all be asleep by the end. And they liked Christmas, the idea of it, but when the holiday actually came around, they didn't have the energy for it.

Energy or not, you were determined to give them a Christmas they wouldn't forget. And, bless their hearts, they really tried. They were trying their best for you. You told them you were taking them out so they better be prepared. They got all their sleeping in before you showed up. And when they dressed up to go out, you couldn't help but laugh. They looked like they were venturing out to the deep arctic and not spending a few hours in a New York, Christmas Eve Winter.

Each wore thick boots, pants and patched together coats made from pieces of smaller, human shaped coats. Three-fingered gloves, hats and hoods covered their green skin as much as humanly possible. As if they would die if a single snowflake were to touch them.

And they were equally unenthused about it as if the deep arctic was their destination. You were the main source of positive vibes and happy chatter as all of you made your way to the surface and stole to the New York City rooftops. They did finally start perking up as they took turns carrying you from roof to roof as they ran around and looked at all the lights and festivities the city had to offer.

Nearly two hours in and the last stop on the list was Rockefeller Center where all of you gazed down at the giant tree and watched the ice skaters below. Even from this high up, you could hear the Christmas music pumping up from below.

“You know, I've never seen it in person before,” Raphael said, watching the lights of the massive tree. “It's right at our door and we never bothered to get out.”

“It's so pretty,” Michelangelo marveled.

At either of your sides stood Donatello and Leonardo. They were smiling. No more cranky faces.

“Thanks for making us come out,” Leonardo said. “This was nice.”

You smiled back, absolutely ecstatic that they were having a good time. They were so grumbly at first, you worried they would end up irritated with you by the time they made it back. That you could bring some holiday joy to their very sleepy winter months made you so happy. This was the best present they could ever give you.

They remained here the longest, taking it all in. Soaking up the pureness of a holiday they often slept through. You wandered to each of them, taking in their joy, putting your head on their shoulders and listening to that happy chatter between brothers you had missed from the warmer seasons.

Eventually, the cold got to them again and they decided to call it night. Leonardo had you draped over his shoulder, your arms around his neck as he jumped from one building to another. Not your favorite turtle-involved activity, but you did secretly like being this close to them, feeling their effortless power under you. Your face was always burning hot when they put you down. Even now, it was enough to keep you warm as the chilly wind of their speed stung your face.

Block after block they traveled, heading home. Though warmer below, it was faster to go topside. And it seemed they really did enjoy being outside after sitting in the winter blues for so long. They were running at fine speeds and enjoying the fresh air in their lungs. Then, a bullet whizzed by Donatello's head, nearly grazing his mask.

All four turtles stopped and crouched. Surrounded on all sides on various rooftops were Foot Soldiers. Some with guns, others with swords. As if they had been waiting for you. As if they had watched all of you this whole night and new exactly which direction you would be headed on your way back.

Leonardo tightened his grip on you—mostly on your ass, since that's where his hand rested—as he mentally counted all his opponents. There were too many and they were surrounded on all sides.

“I guess that answers that question about whether the Foot gives you holiday time off,” Donatello quipped.

“Give us a break, guys. It's Christmas!” Michelangelo cried, hands up.

Another shot rang through the night and Raphael jerked back as the bullet grazed his bicep. By now, the Foot knew better. They knew the shells could withstand bullets from most guns. They knew now to aim for the fleshy parts, and the head.

“Raph!” you screamed as he gripped his arm.

Leonardo didn't wait around for a second shot. They couldn't chance taking a stand against that many armed Foot with you there, exposed and vulnerable. He jumped off the building and his brothers followed, rebounding off various fire escapes on his way down.

You screamed and covered your head as the sounds of gunfire echoed in your ears. Your body was jerked around as Leonardo hit the ground and took off running. Daring to glance up, you saw a rain of masked Foot Soldiers falling from the building tops after you. There was a road ahead and Leonardo had no choice but to sprint into the on-coming traffic. The squealing of brakes and tires, the blaring of horns filled your ears as he leaped and jumped from the top of one car and another to make it to the other side. The rest of the brothers ran on either side of you and the bullets kept flying.

Behind you, you saw Donatello stumble and nearly fall, but then continue running with a hand on his thigh. You were shaking, too scared to scream his name. The Foot were going to kill them all and there was nothing you could do to protect them.

Then, Leonardo suddenly slid to a stop in the snow. The brothers found themselves on a pier, only the Hudson River ahead of them. A white layer of ice and snow covered the river, leading out into the darkness.

“There's no way!” Raphael yelled. “We're too heavy. We'll never make it across.”

Michelangelo cried out as a bullet hit him. You ducked as you felt one ping off Leonardo's shell close to your head.

“We have no choice!” Leonardo ordered. His grip on you was bruising, but you felt nothing but fear. “Swift and light, boys. Go!”

They jumped from the pier and ran across the bridge of ice. The Hudson River was a half mile wide and you could hear the crack of the ice as the heavy turtles ran across it. From your vantage point over Leonardo's shoulder, you could see some Foot were following, but others had remained on the pier. Either way, they were getting further and further behind as the turtles ran at full speed. A speed no normal human hoped to match.

The sounds of gunfire became more distant. They were going to make it! And then, a sickening crack echoed in your ears. The slap of ice and wetness. They were only halfway across and the bridge was too thin. The ice gave way and all of you plunged into the dark, gelid water.

It took all of your control not to gasp at the sudden cold as you were pulled under the surface. You had never felt such an intense, bitter, painful chill in all your life. It made you muscles seize and ache, your lungs burn, your brain panic.

Something strong grabbed you and yanked you toward the surface, but all you hit was a heavy chunk of ice, keeping you from live-giving air. You couldn't see a thing in the darkness, only hear the heavy thunk of what you imagined was a strong fist trying to break through the ice. You were running out of air. You needed to breathe.

You must have passed out for a moment, because the next thing you remember was being dragged from the icy water and up the snow-covered riverbank. Raphael had you now, on his hands and knees, heaving as it seemed to take every ounce of his strength to haul both himself and you to safety.

You quickly made a mental count: one, two, three...four. All four brothers were on the bank. Leonardo was next to you, his body visibly shaking from the cold. On the other side of Raphael, Donatello coughed violently in the snow. Michelangelo was a little higher up the bank.

“Dudes, where are we?” he asked with chattering teeth.

“If we made it to the other side...maybe Hoboken?” Donatello ventured to guess.

“New Jersey?” Raphael growled in your ear. “Great, I'm going to die of hypothermia in J-Jersey.”

You could hear all of their teeth chattering from the cold. Yours were, too. Your fingers and toes might as well have been missing. You couldn't feel them at. But, if you focused enough, you could force your shivering limbs to work and you pulled yourself to your feet.

You were the only one.

“Come on, guys, get up. You can't stay here.”

Leonardo was doing his best, but he couldn't get up higher than on his knees. The others seemed incapable of even trying. They were reptiles. The cold slowed them down, shut down their bodies. And they would die out here of exposure just as easily as you would if you all stayed.

You ran to Michelangelo first and tugged on his arm. “Come on, Mikey, get up. You have to get up!”

His arm was slick with blood, though he didn't seem to feel the bullet wound right above his elbow. He was too cold to feel anything.

“I...I don't think I can,” he said weakly.

“Yes you can.” You looked him in the face, determined. “Get your legs under you and get up. Do it for me. Please?”

He smiled weakly, but there was a new resolve in him. “Anything for you, Babe.”

He put his all into it, managing to get up on shaky legs. You quickly pressed yourself against his side to steady him. Both of you were shivering, but you held each other up. You doggedly urged him up the bank, one foot in front of the other. And up the embankment, you saw an old, abandoned building several yards out. It was like a miracle from God.

This renewed both your efforts and the two of you pushed for the building. It had a slide-up entrance big enough for a vehicle to drive through. Michelangelo helped you force it open and then you helped him stumble inside.

Within, there was nothing but a wide-open cement floor and what looked like dusty construction equipment and supplies near the back. No light. Definitely no heat. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than laying in the snow on the riverbank.

You ran back down to the river, falling on your face along the way as your frozen limbs refused to move as well as they used to. You forced yourself back up, caked in snow and slid down the embankment to the remaining turtles. Leonardo had managed to get upright again and was trying to get to Raphael.

You grabbed the leader in blue and pulled him away.

“No, help them first,” he insisted, and then nearly fell back down.

“I'm helping all of you, but you're next,” you insisted. “Come on, I found a place.”

Leonardo grunted as your pulled him along. He hated to be told what to do, but he was in no position to argue. You were the only warm-blooded one among them. You were faring better than the brothers—for now. Your body might give out to the cold eventually, but you were determined to pull as many turtles to safety as you could before that happened. As cold as you were, maybe if you could force yourself to keep moving, you would be okay.

The frigid winter air against your wet clothes was torture. There was no hope of your body warming itself as every bit of body heat was stolen by the breeze. Still, you pressed on as you and Leonardo dragged yourselves to the storage building.

He was barely at the door before you turned and ran back. Running made the cold worse. Your muscles were struggling, as if the line from your brain to your legs were being cut. Your hair was now a solid ice clump on your head. But you forced yourself forward and slid back down the embankment. There, Raphael had managed to get himself to Donatello and they were trying to help each other climb up.

“Get Donnie next,” Raphael told you. “He's hurt.”

You looked to where Donatello was pressing a hand to his thigh, but you didn't see anything. Walking around him, the bullet had pierced the back of his thigh and his pants were darkened in blood.

“At least the river greatly slowed the blood flow, so chances of bleeding out are low,” Donatello managed to say.

“Small favors,” you said with a hopeful smile. “Come on, get up. It's not far.”

Donatello struggled. His long limbs would not cooperate and you both fell down several times trying to get to the building. Leonardo came back out, determined to help and you wanted to yell at him. You were trying to get turtles INTO the building. They were not helping if they were coming back out. Yet, between the two of you, you all managed to stumble inside.

Still one more turtle to go. Your pants had frozen to your legs so much that they made a cracking sound any time you moved. Your feet were in icy puddles in your shoes and your sweater was pretty much a soaked sponge.

With determination, you shrugged off your coat, peeled the soaked, also nearly solid sweater from your body and dropped it to the ground. The coat was more like one of those water resistant ski jackets and didn't retain nearly as much water. You zipped it back on and went back out one more time.

You found Raphael nearly at the top of the bank. Both of you were frosted in white snow, your bodies too cold to melt it.

“Come on, big guy, I've got you,” you said between blue lips as you pulled at him.

He was so much bigger and heavier than you, no amount of pulling on your own would have made a difference. But your shaking form was enough to steady him and the two of you stumbled for the building.

“Look at you, saving our asses,” he mumbled with humor.

“You're saving yourself,” you insisted. “I'm just here for moral support.”

He snorted and the two of you finally made it.

Instantly, you began tugging at their heavy clothes. “Take these off. They're soaked. You're going to freeze to death.”

They were so bloodless and lethargic. Three of them had been shot. Leonardo was the only one who managed to escape any bullets. You had a suspicion it was because his brothers kept him and you in the front while you fled to minimize any possible hits. But you didn't let yourself think about it for long. Your brain was in survival mode. You couldn't sit down and rest or you might not be able to get back up. You had to keep your muscles moving. It was the only way to stay warm.

So you stubbornly kept working, yanking soaked, frozen winter clothes off very cold turtles. As their skin was exposed to the open air, they huddled together to keep warm in a big turtle pile. Which would have been cute in any other situation. They weren't just trying to keep themselves warm. Arms around each other, they tried to warm up their brothers. The scene made you more determined. You had to get them warm. If the Foot found them, they would be sitting ducks.

Grabbing Donatello's pack, you fished around for a flashlight and then went deeper into the building to see if there was anything you could use. Old packs of concrete, some of the bags split open. An out of date fork lift that probably didn't work anymore. There was a whole pile of large tarps. A flimsy insulation, but better than nothing to protect bodies from direct exposure to cold concrete.

And, your saving grace, you found some old wood pallets.

The turtles looked up as you dragged one of the pallets over to them. “Break this into pieces. I'm going to try to build a fire. Anyone pack a lighter?”

*************

You were almost done. You closed the door to keep air out, you got the turtles on their new tarp beds where they now huddled as one giant pile. You managed to get a fire going and now you were nearly done wrapping up the last of the bullet wounds. Luckily, the guys always brought a first aid kit whenever they went out. Unfortunately, there was still a bullet in Donatello's leg and Michelangelo's arm. They would have to wait for removal.

With the last of your energy, you dragged a second pallet over for breakdown to make sure you would have enough wood to last the night. Then, you just dropped on your ass on the floor, staring at the fire. There was nothing else to do, you had done the best you could. All your reserves were gone.

At least now you had heat and it felt so good just to sit in front of the fire and let it warm you. You weren't shivering anymore. All your limbs were numb. Maybe that was bad. You thought you read somewhere that when the shivers were gone that was the next stage of hypothermia. But you weren't sure. Your brain was sluggish. It had no more input to give you now that you had done all the tasks. You had now redeemed yourself.

“Sorry,” you told the turtles across the fire. “If I hadn't insisted you guys go out, none of this would have happened. I almost got you killed. I'm so sorry.”

“Hey, that is not your fault,” Raphael shot back. “It's the Foot's fault for being assholes. And it's our fault for forgetting that we needed to keep an eye out. We got sloppy, not you.”

“No one's blaming you,” Donatello confirmed. “I'm still glad we did it. I hadn't had that Christmas feeling since we were kids. I had forgotten all about it. I was glad to remember it again.”

“Ditto!” Michelangelo cut in. “You make a turtle feel young at heart again.”

You smiled softly. It was all you could manage. You couldn't make your body move, now that you had finally allowed it rest.

“Hey,” Leonardo called to you. “Why are you over there? Come sit with us and get warm.”

You just looked at him and slowly blinked. Sitting over there sounded nice, but what sounded even nicer was to let the blackness of sleep take you. Your head lolled forward and then the rest of you slowly fell over on your side. There, now you could go to sleep. And you wished the boys would stop yelling your name. You were so tired.

At some point, you were aware of strong arms picking your boneless body off the floor. You were set among a nest of large forms and green hands worked to gently peel the soaked clothes off your body. Left in just your underwear, you were the center of the turtle nest as they all huddled together to get warm. Their bodies were still so cold against your skin. None of you were producing any heat from your bodies, but you still tried.

You took the nearest cold hand you could grab and pressed it to your stomach, trying to warm it. As the fire's heat settled into your skin and in the air, you grabbed the next green hand to replace it, rubbing the fingers.

They were too cold, too cold. They needed to get warmer. Your brain just kept going over that mantra, even as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Through the night, you don't remember much if any talking among the brothers. You do remember them often rotating spots so the turtles on the outside could then spend some time on the inside of the cuddle pile.

You were always in the middle; always kept warm and protected. Always surrounded by solid plastrons and thick thighs as they kept your off the cold ground with their own limbs. By the time the gray winter sun eked in through the dirty windows, you were sore and still tired, but toasty warm as a fire still crackled on front of you. And very large turtle bodies protectively huddled around you.

As you awoke, the first thought in your mind was if they were all okay. But the first sign of movement from you had Michelangelo singing loudly in your ear.

“We wish you a merry Christmas!”

You groaned.

“We wish you a merry Christmas!”

“Mikey, nooo...”

“We wish you a merry Christmaaaas!”

“Mikey, shut it!” Raphael barked.

“AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

You rolled to press your face into the plastron of the very turtle that was singing to you and you could feel the vibrations of his laughter. Your second half lay in the lap of Donatello and he rubbed your leg to warm it up.

“How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”

All your muscles hurt, but you sat up with a smile. “I'm fine. I'm worried about you and your leg.”

Leonardo approached, holding out your ski jacket. “Here, put this on, it's mostly dry now. We managed to get one of the cells to work and called April. She's coming to get us.”

“I'll be fine once we can get back to the lair and take care of everyone's wounds,” Donatello confirmed. “You got us out, we're all okay.”

As you blissfully wrapped yourself in your jacket, you smiled thankfully. This could have ended  badly. These dear friends you had in your life could have been taken from you so easily. Yet, all of you survived. Christmas miracle? Maybe.

A solid bang on the door made them all jump, then it was yanked open, revealing April's perturbed countenance. She was not happy to be called out at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning.

“Get your shells in gear before anyone sees me driving that fugly van of yours!” she called.

When she actually saw the state of her turtles and their wounds, she quickly changed from irritated old sister to mother hen. She checked each turtle over and helped them into the van. You were grateful for her. You could never trust if the turtles told you they were alright. They would want to keep you from worrying. But if April looked them over and saw they looked like they weren't in any immediate danger of dying, you could believe that.

You crawled into the back seat with Leonardo, since you two were the only ones without any bullet wounds. Donatello had to sit in the front with his bad leg. The other brothers took the middle.

“Not the best Christmas ever like I had hoped,” you lamented as you all drove away.

“Hey, sometimes any Christmas you survive is a good Christmas,” Raphael joked in front of her.

Leonardo took your hand and squeezed. “It's definitely one we'll remember for the rest of our lives.”

“I mean, we did all get naked together. That's a pretty good Christmas,” Michelangelo grinned back at you.

You reached in front of you to hug him around the neck. “I'm just glad you're all okay.”

“We're glad you're okay, too. You had us worried for a minute last night.”

You weren't sure what to say about that. You had never worried about yourself that night. Instead, you just kissed his dome and settled back in for the ride home.

************

Once returning to the lair and receiving hot baths and warm clothes, a fussy Splinter tended to his son's wounds and made all of you eat. You brought out your presents for them: giant, thick, weighted blankets that the guys all immediately curled up with in the living room. Thirty minutes into watching “The Grinch” and they were all sound asleep. And you were pretty much trapped at the bottom of that turtle pile. But you didn't mind. It felt like this was where you belonged. And this definitely was a Christmas all of you would remember.

[chloecherrysip]

all the pain will change into a memory of when we were amazing (mario & luigi-centric post-movie fic, part 2!)

(Part one can be found here!)

(Thanks again to everyone who read the first part and was so sweet about it! Here's the continuation. This is a shorter interlude with Mario and Luigi's family before we get to the main "meat" of the story AKA Mario and Luigi talking on their own in the third part, coming soon. I hope you enjoy, and I appreciate any thoughts/feedback. I will get this uploaded on AO3 as soon as I can as well, if you'd prefer to read over there.)

+

“Hey-o!” 

Things had been so quiet on their long, long, long trek back home that the sudden noise made Mario stiffen as they shuffled through the door, every nerve on high alert for a breathless few seconds. Luigi, who had practically sleepwalked the last block with his head leaned against Mario’s head, using his brother's hat as a makeshift pillow, started too, mumbling a greeting that barely resembled the English language, waving at the front door before realizing he was turned around and swaying around to face the warm light of the dining room instead. It looked like dinner was already over, dishes and silverware being cleared away.

“Look who finally decided to show up! Brooklyn’s brand-new heroes!” Uncle Arthur raised a nearly empty glass of what looked like wine in laughing celebration. “What, you save the city from a bunch of weird turtle goons one time and you’re too good to share a meal with us regular bums?” 

“They were helping with the cleanup,” Aunt Marie hissed, swatting him hard enough to elicit a yelp. “Where were you out there, huh?” She smiled warmly at Mario and Luigi on her way to the kitchen. “Sorry we couldn’t wait any longer. Gramps and Mia needed to get to bed. But don’t worry, we saved plenty!”

“Probably too busy signing autographs for all the bella signore,” Uncle Tony guffawed. “Hard to blame ‘em! Better enjoy it before they figure out you’re plumbers with no money!”

“Heh, yeah. Caught us fair and square,” Mario said, managing a weak laugh. Luigi let loose a tiny, snorting chuckle too, although whether that was because he was backing Mario up or just blindly mimicking what he heard, too lost in his own sleepy little world, Mario wasn’t sure. They were still holding onto one another, which they’d maintained the entire walk back except in places where it was impossible to proceed in that way (ladders and the like). That way, a repeat of the stairs incident couldn’t happen, and Mario had known exactly when Luigi was getting shaky enough to need a break. He squeezed his brother’s hand as a way to check in. It took a few seconds, but Luigi squeezed back gently, which was a small relief.

“Is that the boys!?” Without any further warning, their mother barreled out of the kitchen like a runaway train. She grabbed them in both arms, her shaking grip tight enough that both brothers wheezed from a sudden lack of air. “Oddio, where have you been? You already vanished on us once! My old heart can’t take much more of this.” 

“You’re not that old, Ma,” Luigi murmured, patting her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Mario said as clearly as he could manage with his face smothered in her hair. “Didn’t mean to make ya worry. Just, uh, lost track of time, that’s all.”

“What happened?” That was Dad, moving slower to catch up with her, his brow creased deep. “Are you all right?”

“Never been better!” Luigi insisted, overly bright. The bone-crushing hug had woken him up a little, but now he was using his I’m definitely lying but maybe if I speak at a much higher volume, no one will be able to tell voice. “We were just, y’know, real busy making sure everyone on the block could still…flush their toilets! Everyone forgets how important that is. Can ya believe it?”

“And we had to make sure our friends got home safely too,” Mario jumped in, rubbing his mom’s back with his free hand as she continued to hold on for dear life. You get temporarily swallowed by a giant, man-eating plant in front of your parents one time… “But we’re definitely not going anywhere for the rest of the night, and Aunt Marie said something about leftover food, if you can forgive us…?”

“Of course, of course.” She finally stepped back, but not before one good, firm pinch of the cheek between her fingers for each of them. “You’ve worked so hard, my brave boys. You must be about ready to turn inside out from hunger already. Sit, sit, I’ll bring it to you—”

“Actually, Ma,” Mario interjected as gingerly as possible. “It’s been a really, really long day. Could we, uh, maybe take the food in our room? I know, I know, you don’t like that, but if anything gets messy, I’ll take care of it, promise—” 

“Ya can’t be serious!” Uncle Tony spoke up all of a sudden, his chair screeching against the floor as he jumped up. “You two still gotta give us the whole rundown of where ya been! Where did that angry, spikey dragon-turtle-guy even come from?”

“And the tiny kid who looked like a big ole mushroom with legs!” Uncle Arthur added.

“What about that giant monkey in the tie?” Aunt Marie piped up, half-laughing in sheer disbelief as she came back into the room. “He could talk! And not just little words, no — if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was hittin’ on me.”

“Look, I get it, I get it,” Mario insisted as good-naturedly as he could manage. He started to inch towards the hallway with Luigi in tow, who he could feel becoming jittery from all the new noise. All he needed was a few good, firm excuses, a clear escape route, and they were home-free. “It was pretty crazy stuff, right? But seriously, we’re dead on our feet as it is—” 

“Then sit down already and take a load off!” Uncle Tony insisted right back. “We’ll make coffee!” 

“Nooooo, no coffee for me. Now!? I-I think I might shake right out of my skin if, “Luigi started to joke, only to squeak when Uncle Tony grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to steer him around anyway.

“C’moooon! A story like this can’t wait,” Uncle Arthur groaned. “This is the wildest thing that’s happened since Gramps’ teeth were eaten by that dog on the subway! Have some pity for your elders and their boring lives.” 

“We’ll tell ya all about it tomorrow, I swear!” Mario said a little louder, desperately trying to sound casual even as the words scraped up his throat. It was too loud, too bright. A new wave of dizziness swam over him; everything was starting to seem more and more like a dream, his vision smearing at the edges. The only thing that still felt solid, real was his hold on Luigi. He stayed focused on it like a lifeline, even as they were jostled around. “And you’ll understand then why we need to sleep for a million years and then some, I swear, ‘cause we, we’ve really gone through the ringer here...��

“Don’t you think you’ll feel better if you just sit down for a minute?” Ma asked, smiling warmly. “Besides, I wanted to know a little more about that princess—”

“Ya gotta eat anyway!” Uncle Arthur downed what was left of his glass in one swig. “Don’t make us beg!” 

“Forget the coffee. We’ll break out the Sangiovese and that’ll loosen you up real good,” Uncle Tony snickered.

Their uncle grabbed at Luigi again, pulling him along harder this time — hard enough that he panicked, his flailing hand struggling for a better grip on Mario’s before they were ripped apart. And that reminded Mario’s fuzzy, exhausted brain of something. A feeling he didn’t know how to describe in words but that cut into him like a knife between his ribs just the same, bone-deep and blindsiding and instantly overwhelming. He thought of—

(pink clouds and faint swirling light and green pipes and weird wind tunnels he could practically swim through and black shadows like soot in the air and lava glowing and Luigi shouting his name, Luigi panicking as he tried to calm him down, Luigi’s hand warm and snug against his because nothing could hurt them if they were together and nothing was going to separate them as long as Mario was strong enough, steady enough to make it that way but then there was a sound like thunder and the pressure grew and grew and grew and grew and GREW AND)

His body acted on its own. With both hands, he wrenched Luigi back towards him a few stumbling steps, out of Uncle Tony’s hands. “No!” He yelled, a hoarse, guttural sound. 

Silence, save for car horns on the street outside.

Clarity came over Mario in a slow, creeping wave, quickly turning into a feeling of horror as he registered the way everyone had frozen in place around him, staring with wide, frightened eyes. Even their parents looked stricken. Luigi’s tired expression had flooded with worry too, but there was a glint of something warmer there as well — understanding. I felt it, his eyes said to Mario, as clear as day. I remembered too.

“I-I’m sorry, but we really, REALLY need to take a rain check, all right?” That was Luigi, breaking the silence, talking way more assertively than he usually ever did at home. Most of the time, the others drowned him out, but now, he had everyone’s undivided attention, insistently pointing with his one free hand that wasn’t still clinging to Mario’s. “We, me and Mario here, are a little loopy, all right? Not thinking straight in the least! It’s been a hard day — a hard couple of days! Three days, in fact! Maybe three days, or two! Heck, I don’t even know what day it is anymore! That’s how out of whack we are! Do ya get it already!?” 

“Easy there, Lu,” Mario whispered. There was so much frantic gesturing going on that Luigi was starting to throw himself off-balance, swaying dangerously. He still felt ashamed, raw inside from the outburst, but Luigi jumping in had lessened it to the point that he could breathe again, at least. His amazing brother really was full of surprises today, it seemed. “But he’s right. I…it’s just been a lot."

Some glances were shared around the table. Surprisingly, it was Uncle Tony who spoke up first. 

“Y’know what? You do look like you’d be shoo-ins for a zombie movie, no makeup needed.” He clapped them lightly on the shoulders one more time and then sat back down with a backwards wave of the hand. “Don’t worry about us. Go on, get out of here.”

“Get plenty of rest,” Aunt Marie said, her smile plainly apologetic. 

“Man, that just gave me deja-vu like nobody’s business,” Uncle Arthur laughed. “Remember when they were tiny, Tony? We couldn’t peel them off each other for anything in the world.” 

“Oh man, do I,” Tony snorted. “Not without them scratching and screeching like stray cats! Might as well have made you two — whaddya call it again? — conjoined twins and saved a couple steps.” 

“There was that one time we were babysitting at the park down the street—” 

Mario didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. “Come on,” a familiar, gruff voice said near his ear, followed by two large arms herding him and Luigi away, their mother following close behind. “Get yourselves into the kitchen already.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Mario couldn’t help but insist once they were there, heels squeaking on the faded linoleum. Several of his stern talking-to’s over the years had started out much like this in the past; speaking up right away and defending himself before the inevitable yelling happened was practically second nature. “I didn’t mean to yell, I swear, it was just—”

“Never mind that,” the older man cut him off. There was something soft in his tone, softer than Mario could remember hearing it before, and that was when he realized that he'd misread the situation entirely. His dad's eyes were dark with concern, not anger. "Now come on. Give me your gloves, and shoes too. Both of you."

Mario and Luigi glanced at each other and then down at themselves in confused unison, dimly registering that yes, they were still wearing all of that, having forgotten to take everything off at the door like they usually did. Some slow shuffling later, and it was gathered in a pile. Their dad plucked their hats off their heads as well (also missed), tucking everything in the sturdy crook of one arm. He used his free hand to ruffle their hair and pat their faces, one after the other.

"You did good out there," he said, "but what matters most is that you're all right. That's always gonna be what matters most to us. I just," he swallowed slowly, thickly, "I want to make sure you both know that."

For one very brittle moment, as his dad held his face in his big, warm palm, Mario genuinely didn't trust himself to not start either laughing or sobbing right then and there — maybe a crazy mixture of both. The feeling passed, thankfully, but he still managed a wobbly smile, a small nod.

“Now go and wash up. Ma will get the food ready.” Sure enough, their mother was already bustling around like a madwoman, plates clattering and half-empty pots simmering again on the stove. “Luigi, you first. Datti una mossa.” 

“Yessir!” Luigi looked back at Mario before going, a tired, reassuring, still slightly worried look that said I’ll see you in a couple of minutes, okay? Mario reflected it back, and their dad walked Luigi out of the room, towards the hallway.

“Just promise me you’ll tell us what happened tomorrow, all right?” Mario's attention returned to his mother, who was finishing stirring some reheated sauce with a little too much shaky speed before coming over to him, smushing his cheeks in both hands. “I don’t care how old you two get. You're still my babies, and babies shouldn't keep secrets from their poor mother."

“I promise, I promise! You’re gonna pop my teeth out, Ma!” Mario half-laughed, gently tugging at her wrists so he could talk more clearly. “Definitely tomorrow, okay? Right now, I…I don’t know if I could tell ya if I tried. It’s just a crazy blur, and I really gotta process it all myself, still. We just need a little time."

“I understand.” She drew him into another hug. Mario couldn’t help but sink into the familiar warmth, clinging to her. He’d been so worried about Luigi that he’d never even considered the idea that he might never see his parents again either. The realization hit harder than he’d anticipated. “Besides, I know I have nothing to worry about when you two are together. You do such a good job of looking after your brother.” 

(Or even worse, what if he’d been able to come home in the end — but alone? What if he’d had to sit his parents down and tell them that Luigi was…) 

There it was again — that sudden, sour feeling of wanting to cry, such a heavy wave inside him that he had to clench his teeth to the point of pain to hold back a gasp.

Stupid, he thought bitterly, almost angrily. What did he even have to be crying about? Once again, he weathered the rush, kept the walls intact by a hair. He closed his eyes and just let himself be held.

“Of course, Ma,” he croaked. “Always.”