#my boy can't sew for shit don't even try it

[starmage-constellar]

add fans please i have the sacred texts

bro half of this is gonna be nonsense but i need to spread my truths

okay, elstumblr. add grenore right. what a dude.

he’s been through a lot, but GOD is that all so misrepresented and practically ignored

im here to give a rundown on add as a character, from his childhood all the way to when he joins the main cast (& in general, his relationship with eve)

of course, since its.. add.. there’s TW for the following:

- death

- abuse

- enslavement

of course, we start off with add being born. right off the bat, asker (his dad) didn’t even attend his birth. he was informed by one of his manor’s servants that he now had a child. and rather than be there to not only celebrate his new son’s existence but also support his own wife, he stayed at his desk and occupied him with the things that concerned him the most (which are. clearly not the people who are meant to be his family).

when add was just a child, his father pushed him through rigorous teachings. anything out of turn resulted in not only physical but verbal abuse. asker most definitely had a temper and took it out on his son during lessons. he was so frustrated with every small mistake that add made―whether it was his intention to make it or not―that add started to see it as “normal” and “understandable” just because nasods were endangered. he excused his father’s actions and temper because that’s what he was made to do. 

and, it’s not like he had anyone to tell him otherwise until much later. he was completely sheltered his whole life. even if there’s nothing that tells us he didn’t talk to anyone outside of his home, i think it’s a correct assumption. do you honestly think that someone as controlling and abusive as asker would: A) allow add to do anything but put his time and energy towards nasods? & B) nourish the sort of mindset within add that would allow him to comfortably communicate with anyone outside the house? no. add would already struggle with a majority of the symptoms of c-ptsd (self-worth issues, ignoring red flags/excusing abusive behaviours, relationship difficulties, etc). 

however, “excusing abusive behaviours” isn’t to say that those affected by c-ptsd arent afraid of their abusers. when add finds out about his father’s plan, he’s terrified of what asker will end up doing to him. he’s still just a kid! it’s not like he totally understands whats going on, no matter how smart he might be for his age. also, he willingly listens in on the conversation between his parents, only fleeing once he thinks he’ll get caught (though it was grace who peeked out the door). he can infer already that what he was doing wasn’t something he should’ve been doing/something asker would be displeased with. he’s never been afraid of his mother, he’s afraid of the consequences of his actions as they pertain to his father because of how much control asker has had over add’s life to that point. he’s afraid of disappointing his father again.

then, we get to the day when nasod ruler caught up with his family. they killed his family and destroyed his home. i think a part of him felt like he upset his father, but it wouldn’tve mattered then. above all else, he was utterly distraught that someone had taken away his mother. grace was the only person that, given the narrow scope of people he knew up until then, he ever cared about genuinely. he checked into her lab every day after lessons to see if she was around because he loved her. grace was his comfort, and that makes sense! she was an incredibly loving and caring mother. she was the only support system add ever had in his life. 

im certain that when he was captured, it was in the midst of his panic and distress, so he would’ve been trying to get away from them as much as he could. he wanted his mother back. im not even sure if he understood she wasn’t going to come back, but i also don’t think he would care much if she was alive or dead. i have a feeling that even if he understood she was dead, he would rather stay by her corpse than be anywhere else because it was still his mother. it was still his comfort and his support, even if she wasn’t breathing. 

to the actual slavery part, though. initially, add would be very uncertain about being in the situation. he wasn’t given the time to process his mother’s death, so he would be undoubtedly shaken up about it for a while. he would have so many mixed emotions and wouldn’t be given the time to process them. and this is SO important to know about his character.

throughout every traumatic situation he’s had to go through, there has been nobody that he is able to speak on these matters with. he’s had no time to question anything or understand anything from a different view. he is left to keep dealing with these things in an unhealthy manner, if dealing with them at all.

it is for this reason that his reaction to the new world when he wakes up in the library infuriates me. yes, he is fascinated by the library, and that’s understandable. it’s a vast collection of knowledge. knowledge that could help him. knowledge that could make him stop disappointing people around him. however, his reaction to dynamo sort of irritates me. in a way, i understand his abrasiveness. he wants to do things on his own. escaping from slavery was already a way of proving to himself he was capable of something. however, i don’t think he should be as annoyed with it as he is. it’s clear, by the point he entered the library, he was inquisitive enough to understand things pretty quickly. like, he was smart enough to make use of dynamo once he got outside. i don’t get why he tried to ignore dynamo so vehemently when he could’ve clearly seen it wouldn’t leave him alone lmao...

but oh god.. we get to him interacting with echo.....................

we’re going back to him having bad people skills. i doubt he would have ever gotten comfortable speaking to anyone, given what happened to him. i also think he could’ve been a little more hesitant entering elder, but that’s just my thought (he does mention that he’s never seen cities around him before, so). 

i understand he knows a lot about the nasodian race, but it seems a little weird to have him come out of two incredibly-emotionally-damaging situations being able to communicate with a stranger so quickly.

however, i appreciate him being intrigued by a request. he’s only ever known how to do things for people, for the most part. to be offered a request―a chance for him to prove himself again―and possibly earn a reward in exchange is something he would be willing to do. im also thankful that he’s confused by echo’s hospitality. (still quite pissed off about his “tsundere” attitude, though...)

adding to what they’ve done right, though, i think quantum leap vol. 3 is my favourite volume. it’s a little flawed, but i think it’s a great explanation of add as a character. his driving force is to become stronger and to get rid of his weaknesses. weakness = vulnerability = suffering.

uhh.. moving past some other shit because it’s already 1:30 am

keeping this brief: add only helped wally because he thought it would be a good way to prove himself again to somebody, but ultimately betrayed him when he noticed small similarities in their relationship compared to his previous situations. 

add also never let himself process anything he really went through, even when he isolated himself inside the library. again, the whole not wanting to be weak thing. any sort of vulnerability would just make him weaker, which would make him more susceptible to getting hurt again. thus, to protect himself, he refused to let himself look back on and deal with his issues when he was finally in a safe environment. to him, they’re just intrusive thoughts that he thinks he’s been able to deal with. (plus, he was down there to study. he’s not gonna waste his time with that!)

oh right i almost forgot. Eve.

god. okay. getting it out up front: i am not an add/eve shipper. i have never shipped it, and my stance is that add is simply infatuated with eve from a technological standpoint. hell, she’s the queen of the nasod race. if anyone has the answers on how the guy can get back to his time period, certainly it’s the queen of nasods! this is even reflected in 2nd path, where he’s solely focused on eve to take advantage of her coding to his own benefit (of course, 2nd path is also very arrogant and such). i understand that the main story allows for add to get closer with eve, but even in elSYION NOT ELRIANODE SORRY, he’s still acting obsessive and abnormal in terms of how he conducts himself around her compared to everyone else.

uhh i dont think i have any more to say,, if you made it this far, hi! thank you for reading my autism paper

also its 1:40 am im so fucking sleepy i cant go on with summarizing this essay

[rawcherrycake]

Right, let's do this one more time...

TMNT: Eden

My own TMNT fan iteration! I had lots of fun designing these guys and i'll admit one big inspo was @kaysdenofchaos Teenage Meddling Mutant Turtles! (i absolutely adore your boys i would kill and die for them,,)

I've tried different styles and dynamics, but so far this is my absolute favorite!

Alright, now let's properly introduce the Eden!turtles

Mikey:

The eldest at 19 years old

Mutant Bog Turtle

Energetic, playful, creative, a bit reckless, literally runs on spite, the most emotionally open, supportive, has incredibly high pain-tolerance, and don't even get me STARTED on his ability to hold his drinks

He was once told he was a boring goodie-two-shoes so he spent the rest of the day swearing like a sailor to prove a point, that's how spiteful he is

Has the most creative insults ever

His brothers know his spitefulness so if he ever forgets about his own well being his brothers are like "Bet you can't sleep 8 good hours" and he'll go "BET" AND DO IT

Not the smartest but has good intentions

Can go on hours ranting about the most random shit

Eats anything and everything, his stomach is probably made out of titanium

A great cook! Though don't ask for any surprise dishes, he can get... creative

An insomniac, his mask hides the eyebags pretty well

Probably has some kind of PTSD, but he doesn't like talking about it

CANNOT stand the smell of metal, it grosses him out

Unironically watches Super Nanny religiously

Donnie:

A couple months younger than Mikey (so they joke they're twins)

Mutant Giant Softshell

Mikey doesn't aprove his younger twin being taller than him >:(

Sort of a jack-of-all-trades, mostly because he's very determined to learn as much as possible and learn how to do it properly

Which leads on him getting incredibly frustrated if he can't grasp something

Can't cook for shit

The responsible one

Very clean... Mostly. If he's tired (which is most of the time) he'll go into "to hell with it" mode and walk around the lair full of motor oil and mud (which then Raph has to clean up xD)

Tries to act cool and collected but he's just too big of a nerd

Terribly near-sighted

Raph:

16 years old

Mutant common snapping turtle

LOVES crazy make-ups and drag races but would never admit it

Surprisingly tidy and responsible

Plays the drums! He'd love to play electric guitar but having three fingers makes it incredibly hard

Great with animals

Homophobic gay (he'll accept himself soon enough xD)

Brash and reckless, anger issues (what a surprise), has severe RBF syndrome, even when he's calm and content he looks like he wants to murder someone

Near-sighted (doesn't wear glasses or contacts, which worsens his RBF)

Leo:

The family's baby at 8 years old

Mutant Musk Turtle

Very quiet but not shy at all, curious, calm, collected, obedient

Has no trouble talking but prefers signs

Loves fashion, knitting and sewing!

Doesn't like being alone or being in the dark

Is always eager to learn from his brothers, to the point where he can throw his well-being aside to try and impress them

Easily influenced, Raph loves playing pranks with him

(Might change/add stuff later!)

[lesbianrobin]

you were warm when everything was cold

5,470 words

lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric

Lucas can't stop staring.

“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”

Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”

Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”

Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.

“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.

“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”

“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”

Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”

“And I earned my letterman.”

Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”

“How's that?”

“Well, you like to sew.”

“It's a basic life skill!”

“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”

Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”

Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.

Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”

“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”

“I provide.”

“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.

Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”

Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.

“Uh, for me or for you?”

“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”

It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”

Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.

Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.

And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.

—

Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.

It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.

Right now, half of them are asleep.

Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.

Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.

But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?

Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.

He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.

His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?

So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.

Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.

His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.

So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.

“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”

“What?”

“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”

She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.

“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”

Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.

“You're sweet.”

He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.

God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.

Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.

—

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Huh?”

Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.

“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”

“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.

“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”

“Answer what?”

Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.

“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”

"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.

“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”

God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.

“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”

He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.

“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.

As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.

—

When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?

It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.

Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.

“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.

Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.

“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”

She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.

“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”

Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”

Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.

Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”

She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.

“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”

Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.

“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.

Mike sighs his agreement.

Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”

All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.

“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”

“Kill yourself,” Mike says.

“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”

“Thanks.”

Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.

“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.

Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.

“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.

“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”

“I'll get over it. You had a point.”

“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”

“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”

“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”

“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”

“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”

“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”

“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”

“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”

“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”

Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”

“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”

“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”

“Oh, shut up, I love you.”

“Ardently?”

“If that means a whole lot.”

“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”

Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”

“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”

Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.

When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.

He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.

Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.

He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.

Steve fought off the Demogorgon.

He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.

Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.

Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.

According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?

When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.

Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.

God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.

If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?

—

“You seem lighter.”

“Hm?”

Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”

Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.

“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.

“And you're not gonna dump me?”

Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”

She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.

“So, you’re not…”

“No.”

“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”

Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”

“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”

“What? I don’t—”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”

“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”

Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”

“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”

She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”

“High praise.”

“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.

“I wanted this,” he mumbles.

“This?”

He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”

“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”

“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.

“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”

“I learn!”

“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”

Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.

—

Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”

“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”

He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”

Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.

Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”

“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”

“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.

“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”

“You had stuff on hold?”

Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.

She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.

“Surprise!”

Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.

“I love you.”

Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”

“Yes, shut up!”

She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”

“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”

“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.

Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.

“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.

“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.

As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.

Max will keep him tethered.

[dtmacgxstorys]

Ithaqua X Reader!

This is an Ithaqua X Gender Neutral Reader! (No Plan, Just Write!)

Note: Yes, More Ithaqua! I just Love Owl Boi! >//.//<

You & your friends head of a ruthless killer stalking in the nearby woods, It's also been unnaturally cold since the rumors started. You & your friends decide to spend some time in the woods, considering your family's wouldn't care if any of you went missing. You've been walking for a long while, going deeper in the dark, cold woods. "Why is it getting colder the deeper we go?" One of your friends asked. "Hey, Look, a house!" Another said, pointing in the direction of a small building. ".. guys, is that a lone gravestone?" Your 3ed friend asked, pointing to a small clearing. All 4 of you walk over to it, but you can't read what it says.

"Well, I say we go in the house and out of the cold." One friend said, and the another two follow. "I'll be in shortly." You say as you keel down to try to read headstone. "Who lived here, away from everyone?" You said before getting up & heading into the small house. When you get inside, your friends have already started to fire. "Hey, Y/N, come look at this cute guy in this picture!" "And I bet if we do see the killer, you'll probably think they are attractive as well." You say, rolling your eyes, walking over to them. You look down at the picture & blush a little.

The first night was uninventful. In the morning, the two friends who brought bow an arrow with them when out hunting. You & your friend when to get more wood, you feel like you're being watched. "Ok, *huf* I think this is enough for a week, lets go back." You help carry the wood back to the house. "... something doesn't feel really." You say. "We in the woods where serial killer might be hiding." Your friend says, continuing their way to the house. You put the wood in the house & say: "please stay here, i'm just gonna look around the house real quick." "oh, o-ok." You step outside, not even sure why you feel the need to look around.

You look up in one of the trees & you see an owl sleeping. You can't help but smile at the site. You were starting to relax until you hear your friends scream. "Shit!" You ran back into the house. "...well, I guess we didn't need to get as much wood as we did." "I know you said you were depressed, but how can you not care that one of our friends was just murdered?" "Because that's why we were!?" "...right." You say, shaking. You both hear another scream, but this time, it was closer to the house you two are in. "Sh-Shit! I-I d-don't w-w-want t-to die h-here!" You say. Your friend gets up & quickly says: "then go hide somewhere."

You run into a room into a room in the back of the house, it's a simple but nice-looking bedroom. You go into the closet & hide in the plile of old clothes. Just as you have yourself buried in the clothes, you hear the front door slam open. "Why must you have a mask? Afraid somebody might recognize you?" You hear two clicks & then the video of the kill. "Oh shut up, no one deserves to see my face." You hear a thud, you assume that was your friend's body hitting the floor. You hear a couple of clicks getting closer to you & then he says: "three, three, I know I saw four people come in here. Oh, where could you be?" You hear him slowly approaching where you are, but before he comes into the room you're in, you hear an owl cell out. "Umm, do you know something I don't, little one?" You hear him start leave. "Doesn't deserve to die you say? I know that you're older than I can understand, but really?" You hear the owl cell out before flying off. "Hehe well, I guess it's your luck day, you get to live an encounter with me, Ithaqua! hehahaha"

You hear the door closed, but you say in the pile of clothes, shaking, crying. You must have fallen asleep because you wake up on a couch in front of the fire. You quickly sit up. You hear something land on the back of the couch next to you. It's the owl you sew earlier. You reach your hand out to pet it & say: "oh, helo there!" It seems to like you petting it. "She's pretty, it's she?" You jumb & turn to the voice. You see a hooded man with a mask that kind of looks like an owl's face & the fake that his hood had existed fabric on it that looked like ears, he just looked more like an animal than a person. You move to the other end of the couch, away from him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." ".. y-you're the o-one w-who k-killed my f-friends?" "Oh, rrriiight, ..uummmn" He says, looking at the fire. "W-Why didn't you kill me?" "She doesn't want me to." He says, looking past you at the owl. You look at her. "Y-you can understand her?" He looks back at the fire. "Yes."

You pet her some more. "Thank you." There was a long & awkward silence. He brought the silence by asking: ".. are you hungry?" "Hamm? Um, a little." He gets up & heads to the kitchen. You decide to follow him. "... ssoooo, I'm Y/N, by the way." "Ummm, whatever darling." You can't help but blush hearing him cell you that. "*huph* so what's you making, Asshole?" "All I have right now is deer stakes, no fruits or vegetables. Is that ok with you, Y/N." Him saying your name made your heart skip a beat. "...uuummmm y-yeah." You say as you had to the table. The owl flys over the chair next to you. "She have a name?" "She wouldn't tell me & she doesn't want to be given one." "Oh." Is all you said as you petted her.

"So... why did you & your friends come into the woods?" He asked. "...um... we um.... our families don't care about us, we only had each other." ".hummm" "... was this place always been your home?" He pauses for a while. "...yes." You look out the window & you can see the headstone. "... do you want some water?" "Yes, thank you." "You're welcome." He says as he fills a class & brings it to you. You only take a couple of sips, waiting for him to be done cooking. Eventually, he brings you the plate of cooked deer meat & puts it in front of you, then sits across from you. "Thank you." "You're welcome. ... I just someone will see my face after all these years." He says as he pulls his mask off & his hood falls off as well. He's even more beautiful than the picture of him. "Hehe you know it's rude to stare, darling." You look away from him, taking a sip of your water. ".. you know, your not that bad to look at either." You almost choke on your water. "Haha I'm sorry, are you ok?" "*Cough* umhu y-yeah." You try to hide your face as you eat.

When you finish eating, he gets up, takes your dishes & cleans them. "Soo, where am I going to sleep?" "The room you were hiding in." "Oh, ok." You get up & start heading to the room. "Tired already?" He asked, walking over to you. "I-I uummm" "Why are you so nervous, darling?" He asked as a claw grazes you check. You shiver. He walks away from you, saying: "just so you know, that's my room, I won't try anything but, I will be in there to sleep later." "What!? Isn't there somewhere else I can sleep, I see another door and-" "Don't Go In That Room!" You jumbled. "Sorry, that was my mom's room, I want it left how it was." "Oh, ...ok." You say, going into his room. "Sweet dreams, Y/N!" You hear him cell to you before you start drifting off.

End!

It's 4:35am! 🫠

This feels more like a creepypasta fan fick than anything.

[protectbnhaboysatallcost]

Giving the boys your scrunchie | hc

A/N: is this a thing anymore? It was when i was in school but that was a hot minute ago. trends go so fast lol

not proof read

if this is just an american thing or just something my school did, I'll explain. People(mostly girls) would give their s/o a scrunchie and it was pretty much saying "this (boy/girl/they/them) is mine!!" :)

warnings: suggestive themes from natsuo bc i love him

izuku, shoto, katsuki, eijiro, denki, hitoshi, natsuo, shouta

Izuku Midoriya (all might)

read his here!

Shoto Todoroki (white)

*sigh* this boy

he's crushing on u but won't make a move

you're crushing on him but won't make a move

you weren't trying anything

you just wanted to wash your hands for lunch

"todo hold this, I'll be right back."

he LOVES when you use a nickname on him

"Okay"

the usual squad is sitting at the table.'

then Mina walks by

"Oh~ and whos scrunchie is that todoroki?"

"(L/n)'s"

"I didn't know she had guts like that."

everyone at the tables like "???"

"That's basically a wedding ring on a guy."

"congratulations todoroki." Iida's responce.

Midiyoria's all like "That's great Todoroki! I'm glad you finally got together.

Todoroki expression stays the same.

"Thank you"

on the inside he's like 'I just thought she didn't want to get it wet.'

this is the real story

you come back and everyones looking at you.

"Guys, someone just asked me out in the hallway."

"what??"

"Good thing I don't have to worry about that anymore."

everyone blushes and you're digging into lunch

you said this because you don't have a problem turning down people anymore.

Todoroki's starring at you the whole lunch <3

"(L/n), you can call me shoto."

"???" you choke

"okay? um you can call me (y/n)."

<3

later in the day you are walking home next to him when you realize he still has your scuniche on

"Oh sorry shoto, you can give me the scrunchie back."

"Why? What did I do?"

"What?"

"You want to divorce me?"

"...what?"

you sort everything out after a long talk.

"But I mean if you want to keep it, I don't mind Shoto"

He will, until y'all trade it out for real rings :)

Katsuki Bakugo (black/orange)

This one is difficult

I think y'all have to be dating first

"Kat can you wear this?"

"Why the hell should I do that?"

"Um, bc i want you too."

"no"

your gonna have to wrestle to get it on him

*panting* "now was that so hard?"

"tsk" *grumpy pomeranian*

but he doesn't take it off <3

of course the bakusquad notices

"Omg! that is so cute bakugo!" -mina

"the beast is tamned yet again" -denki

"very manly bakubro" -kiri

"how did she even find one with your colors?" -sero

bc you made it

hours behind a sewing machine

"SHUT THE HELL UP EXTRAS"

"i think its cute kachan"

"FUCK OFF DEKU"

cue bakugos quirk

he burns the scrunchie

:(

he's like "...fuck"

hides from you

he can't find it online bc you made it

shows up to school the next day

"here"

throws a scrunchie on your desk

"?"

"omg katsuki 😍"

"Shut up, down think about it too much"

"okayyy, wait where's the one i gave you?"

"...shit"

Eijiro Kirishima (red)

this is the plan

"hey kiri put this on."

"um okay why?"

"it is the new must have for manly people

ofc say less

he'll take a million

plan worked

now the next day

"ooo kirishima what's that?" -kaminari

"who tied you down?" -sero

'wait you're dating someone?" -kaminari

"its (y/n) isnt it?" -mina

"yay (y/n)" -kaminari

"???"

shark.exe has stopped working

not that he's complaining but since when were yall dating?

he looks at you

your just smiling

as if he wasn't red enough

but he's totally for it

"(y/n) you want to sit with me at lunch?"

"oh I'll carry your bag for you."

"don't forget to stay hydrated"

what a lovely guy

"so just wondering, my scrunchie worked?"

he's like "?"

so you explain what the scrunchie means

and he laughs

"you could have just said something"

"but we're dating right?"

"i thought so."

"well we never actually said anything"

"oh"

right skipped a step

"well then will you be my s/o?"

"of course"

and that is yalls story <3

Denki Kaminari (yellow)

he comes to you

"give me one of your scrunchies"

"...okay?"

"your favorite one."

"no"

"what??"

"It's may favorite bc i wear it, if you have it i cant wear it"

"but babeeeee"

"omg shut up fine."

"its yellow?? that's totally bc of me rihgt? you wear it bc it reminds you of me?"

"sure thats why."

"<3"

it was really on sale but why break his heart

is flaunting it around the next day

"oh this? yeah it's just my s/o's scrunchie"

"Kaminari literally no one cares." -mina

"What? everyone should care! not only am i off the market, but they also love me sooo much they want the whole world to know Im theirs."

"you came and asked me for one"

"(Y/n) how you just gonna spill my secrets like that? Whatever happened to us against the world?"

"eat or be eaten babe."

Hitoshi Shinso (purple)

you saw it on tiktok

thank you internet

"hey shin, keep this safe for me"

you say handing him the purple scrunchie

he smirks "sure"

he's also seen it on tiktok

but who is he to shut you down when your finally making a move

brings you a sweatshirt of his the next day

"keep this safe for me"

he ain't never seen someone turn red so fast

but you still grab it and put it on.

"oh so your finally dating (Y/n)? about time" denki says.

technically no, so he pulls you aside before training

"we're dating now?" he asks

"is this a question or a statement?"

"mutual agreement?"

"okay"

he smiles and grabs your hand, if the hoodie and scrunchie didn't say y'all were dating, walking down the hallways together would.

Natsuo Todoroki (blue)

<3

this is 100% on purpose

in your eyes this was his collar

you wouldn't say that though

just a cute "aw this matches your hair" slipping it on his hand

his heart

i mean anything you do that shows him you think of him melts his very soul

love deprived bby 🥺

he's never taking it off

wait until he hears what Fuyumi says about

she looks at it and laughs

"What?"

I see that (y/n) has taken it to the next level"

"??"

when she explains what it means

he swears he has a fire quirk after she tells him bc he is RED

loves it <3

comes home

"oh (y/n)~" he sings

your scrolling on your phone as he plops next to you

"Natsuo~"

he runs his hands across your body

"if your gonna put a ring on it you should at least propose properly"

you look up confused, then see him holding up his wrist

you laugh

"I didn't think you'd find out so soon, i'm just trying to tell all the leeches in your class that there's no chance"

"that's so hot"

he leans over you

"my turn" he says before abusing your neck, leaving plenty of evidence that you're taken behind.

Shouta Aizawa (black)

put it on him while he was sleeping

"what is this?"

"a present <3"

doesn't really mind it until he gets to class

"wow Aizawa your (s/o) doesn't mess around huh?"

"aw i think its cute"

"slay aizawa"

"what the hell are you guys tslking about? shut up and work."

then he goes the his desk

"Shouta, I see (Y/n)'s got you whipped" hizashi comments

"why do people keep talking about (Y/n)?"

he explains what the scrunchie means.

"*sighs* i should of know they had hidden intentions."

but he doesn't take it off, even with the students whispering about it in the halls

"I didn't know Aizawa was taken."

"man and i was gonna shoot my shot after graduation."

then he gets home

"Welcome home, how was work?"

"annoying, all because of your little schemes"

"what? me? scheming? I would never, that is so beneath me."

"😑"

"...did it work?"

"yes"

"good"

asks are open :)

[fisheito]

for the question thing!!! do you have any silly hcs about the clan boys (+ the familiars/eito)? can be as wild as u want

sorry in advance if i don't have any HCs for ur beloveds bc i can only offer what my brain chooses to fixate on.... but let's see........

i like to imagine clan members enjoying fun little hobby hours

i pretend they're not busy adults with their own obligations and schedules.... so they just get together like a bunch of retirees and partake in shared hobbies whenever they want 🤗

e.g.,

book club: oli, blade, yaku, garu

horny book club: eiden, morv, blade, edmond if he works up the courage to discuss his fave BDSM PwP short novel with the 3 most shameless creatures ever ... honestly oli could join as well but i'm gonna excuse him from ONE book club so he can get some sleep. maybe he'll alternate days between the two 😆

sewing and knitting together like a couple of serene grandmas: yakuoli. eiden joins sometimes (all serenity is lost when he does)

TARGET PRACTICE! NEW ACTIVITIES!!! DARTS!! ! PIN THE TAIL ON THE EDMOND! sorry idk this is just my way of saying that after the cowboy event, i want to imagine edmond/dante/garu all playing target striking games and it becomes a contest of how split one dart can be down the middle (you can't all be perfect aimers ok aster can't keep buying new darts can u PLEASE throw them anywhere but dead centre).

i know blade could join as well but would it take the competition aspect out of it? he's kind of calibrated to never miss right?? it's not a game anymore. it's just superior blade and pissed off dante and garu cheering (he's just happy to be there) and edmond trying to be civil about letting everyone participate

they are out in the garden. touching grass: yaku is gardening. blade is collecting bugs. garu is digging holes. kuya is bewitching plants at random to spew sex pollen into someone's face (i feel like this is his superpower in SEVERAL fics and i am not complaining). quincy is trying to nap

.but .

he chose the worst place to do it. in the middle of nature's playground (aster's garden)?

garu's kicking up dust into his face. blade is shoving random insects into his face and asking identification questions. yaku screams when he inevitably falls to the kuya traps. kuya can't resist watching the little ones (yakugaru) play with dirt. WHY would you choose to sleep here.

(Topper is nibbling all the edible plants in the garden while skillfully avoiding all the porn plot traps with his superior Toppinstincts)

now for 3 ! single character HCs.......

kuya: wanders the marketplace, and often sees those anti-aging creams with LOFTY claims to their power... he always mocks them and insults the intelligence of all the vain people clamouring to buy the stock. later that day you will see kuya at home, trying those very same creams (procured illegally, of course, because why pay for anything ever) and pretending like he's zero percent interested in the results

rei: in the same situation will just as quickly mock the creams but unlike kuya he'll mean it and will NOT be caught applying the gloop all over his face later. "lmao it's just sunscreen who even believes this shit"

yakumo: i like to give him sneczema sometimes. i know it's implied that everyone in gay gacha has perfect skin forever *waves hand dismissively* BUT

imagine that he loves working with his hands but the sneczema can flare up if he's too rough on em, so he compromises by wearing his gloves. protect that vulnerable skin, yaku!! [insert pun about scaly skin]

His SR clothing material seems soft. Aesthetic reason: slippery smooth like the idea of snek. Practical reason: coarse textures can aggravate skin 😔 only the silkiest coverings for a scaly boy...

i mean. yaku prefers the wet cave environment so we gotta keep an eye on his humidity. too dry and he'l'l turn into a wafer (like in Solaria that One Time)

is this just an excuse for me to mist him with a spray bottle ? at random times because it just seems like fun? perhaps. spritzspritz

[lostonehero]

More of the new mech au

Because I'm thinking about it and I'm stuck at home with pneumonia

It's an absolute shitshow when the mechs (minus Nastya because she has her limits but did warn Martin beforehand because he made her a matching blanket and taught her how to get Jonny to drink tea) start working at the Institute

Jon is furious he was not informed of new assasitants he didn't approve of and he fucking hates Jonny to no end.

Martin blames himself but does appreciate GP Tim bringing in homemade bread pudding, saying it reminds him of home.

Jonny doesn't have his guns on him because he would never risk hurting Martin, but he is ready to grow out his horns to gorge Jon, and he despises growing his horns out.

Tim didn't realize GP last name was also Stoker, so he's very confused, and GP isn't helping anything by telling the truth. Tim honestly just thinks he's insane.

Sasha thinks this is hilarious but is also grateful to have other people to experience the weird things and maybe have someone check out that appearing yellow door. She has bo idea that they are aliens nor that they are immortal.

Martin only knows they are aliens.

......

New archive chat

Jonny D'ville has been added

Gunpowder Tim has been added

Jonny D'ville changed his name to Jonny

Gunpowder Tim changed his name to GP Tim

Jonny: the cooler Jon is finally here.

Jon: Why did you even get a job here? Why did Elias hire you?

Jonny: don't care

Martin: Jonny, please be nice. Also I brought your favorite mug don't steal Jon's.

Jonny: ok

GP Tim: Man, killed with kindness

Martin: Oh, right, Gp, I also baked a tray of biscuits as a thank you for the bread pudding. I'm almost done with the sleep Mas you requested.

Tim: dude don't tempt Martin. He got rid of all the starters shit in the breakroom when I accidently mentioned I was allergic.

Sasha: to be fair strawberries would actually kill you.

Tim: at least I can handle kindness I can see Gp and Jonny covering their faces. I think Jonny threw his phone.

Martin: he did. Although I didn't mean to embarrassed them. Oh, right, I do crochet and knit, so if you guys want anything, I have an overabundance of yarn from TS who doesn't understand what restraint means.

Sasha: can you teach me to knit?

Tim: Oh me too we can have a knitting club.

Jon: I know how to sew it, and it can't be much different. I shall join you.

Martin: I sure yeah that can be fun.

.....

Marius is sent down to check on everyone. He's in a posh suit, and his hair is barely able to cover his pointed ears.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Jonny raised his brow putting down a statement.

"Mr. Bouchard requested that I uh change my wardrobe. I'll be honest I don't enjoy it, and having my hair slick back is quite er.... unfortunate." Marius can see a small twinge of sympathy from Gp Tim, who knows he had nerve endings in his hair. He found out by accident giving him a surprised haircut as a prank, and there was a lot of blood and screaming. "He asked me to come down and observe how everyone is getting along. Raphella is in artifact storage, I don't know how she got there."

"Figures." Jonny rolls his eyes.

Marius waves at Jon, who heads out of his office. "Oh, Mr. Bouchard also asked me to tell you that TS in artifact storage needs to give a statement. It said that a ring master ripped their voice out, and it was uncomfortable to grow it back."

Gp Tim mumbles. "Why would someone steal a voice?"

Jon nods. "I will head over there."

Sasha raised her brow. "Who are you?"

Marius opened his mouth and then shut it. "Marius, I'm Mr. Bouchard new assistant. How are you doing with new coworkers?"

Sasha hums. "It's fine. Weird having two Tim's."

"I'm the original Tim. Thank you very much." Tim smirks tossing a crumpled ball of paper at Gp Tim.

"Just because that's true doesn't mean anything." Gp Tim smiles, catching the paper ball.

Sasha sighs. "Boys, please."

"An assistant?" Jonny snickers.

"You're one too, Jonny." Marius huffs. "Please try not to hurt your coworkers."

"I make you no promises." Jonny scoffs crossing his arms.

Martin smiles softly, handing Jonny a mug of tea. "Hello Marius, don't worry, I'm keeping an eye on him. And Jonny finish that you need to drink more fluids."

Jonny smiles softly sipping his tea the heat not bothering him.

Marius smiles. "Are you adjusting well, Martin?"

"Oh, it's quite nice having Jonny and Gp here. Although Jonny can get a bit jealous, which isn't bad but it wouldn't really matter if he didn't keep trying to fight Jon, our boss." Martin smiles sheepishly.

"You're word than Jonny." Gp raised his brow.

Tim slides his chair over to Gp. "Tell me everything."

Sasha does the same. "Our soft boy Martin, who couldn't hurt a fly, gets jealous?"

Martin covers his red face knowing damn well he would kill for Jonny if he asked.

Jonny matches the blush, hiding his blush with his mug.

[lixenn]

Crochet corner

I'm back with my yarn babbling again, this time because I want to distract myself from thesis writing OTL

My current scarf project is still ongoing and I left it at home so I can't show any progress pictures since I'm in my dorm again (and I forgot to take some when I was still at my parents place), so I will talk about my past projects.

And when I say past, I mean past, as in I will go back to my crochet roots. You're getting my fiber artist history hot off the keyboard folks, so strap in and enjoy the ride.

Back to the beginnings

My crochet journey started way back in primary school, where tiny baby Lix made a small square creature in craft class. Basically we crocheted a square (easily done with single crochets, can be achieved by tiny people) folded it in half, sewed together the edges, stuffed it with cotton fluff stuff and sewed it shut. Put on some eyes, a nose and mouth plus fake fur as hair and hurray you made a square creature! I actually kept that thing for years, it was chilling on our radiator like a wonky guardian until it eventually got lost or thrown out (I can't remember which). I remember that the stitches were surpisingly neat for my age, which past Lix apparently couldn't replicate for years. Primary school me had talent... (unfortunately I don't have a picture of the wonky square creature or I would have showed you guys)

Deco for the win

While I did try once or twice to get back into crocheting again it never really worked out until! My mum found this website: Drops-Design. A German (?) website for knitting and crochet patterns (and lots of other stuff). She showed me some cute cupcake and coffe cup coasters and asked if I could make them. Past Lix - like current Lix - was filled with false confidence and answered with: "Yeah, sure I can try." So, my mum ordered the yarn over the website and my crochet adventures started from anew.

Fortunately for my sanity the patterns my mum asked for had video tutorials attached, otherwise I would have been utterly fucked, since I have never read a crochet pattern in my life. With the help of the video, the coasters were relatively easy to make even when I was confronted with unknown stitches and multiple colour changes. The end result didn't look nearly as nice as what the website showed but for my first few tries I was satisfied.

Once again I have no pictures available but if you want to take a look at the pattern it's here. There you can also see the finished product.

From this point onwards I started going nuts with making deco shit. All differnt kind of flowers, stars, snowflakes and bunnies. That site opened the crochet door for me and I was happy as a clam.

Granny square madness

However, times were changing once again, when my dear friend got me some yarn for Christmas.

200 g of yarn.

With colour transition.

I only ever used solid coloured yarn before and was at a loss of what to do with this gift.

And what else to do when lost in the yarn world, then look at youtube for help. Spoiler: Youtube helped tremendously as it introduced me to the glorious invention that is granny squares.

Granny squares are fun shit, they come in all kinds of different patterns and colours and you can make lots of things with them. I watched a simple tutorial on youtube and got hooked. I used my friends gift to make granny squares only to be confronted with another dilemma: What to do with those granny squares? I got max 20 squares out of these 200 g and let me tell you my dudes, that's nothing for a bigger project.

So I simply went absolutely batshit crazy, for I decided to make a patchwork granny square blanket.

Please let me remind you people that before this lapse of judgement I only worked on small projects aka things that I made in one day tops.

Once again I follow my motto: Go big or go home and ohhh boy did I go big. I went gigantic and here is proof:

That badboy is the definition of patchwork because it's made up out of FOUR different types of yarn, since I have run out of yarn SO MANY TIMES IT WAS RIDICULOUS! I needed to rebuy yarn at least five times, I was going insane. This project took me over half a year if not longer and weaving in the ends- *shudders* horrible, dreadful, hated every minute of it.

But I like the finished product, it's now chilling on my coach at my parents place, not really used all that often but still pretty.

I didn't stop with the granny squares after that clusterfuck though. Nooooooo sire~ I made a shitton of other granny square projects since I like to suffer (none of them as big as my blanket however, thank the outer gods).

Well, I certainly rambled enough for one post, I will be back with other projects in the future!

Toodles~

[dragon-cookies]

Gonna finish off this series with episode 8 and then go binge watch Bluey while I paint my walls today

Alastor distorting video feeds like a cryptid that can't be captured on camera is one of the most interesting things about him tbh

I still really, realllly feel like an all-out war with Heaven should be like, a giant show finale and not the end to the first season. Where do we go from here?? We already know God doesn't exist in this universe, so what other lore is even left to be explored?

Once again Charlie giving some big heartfelt speech really doesn't feel earned when we've barely spent any time with these characters

Hate to keep beating a dead horse here but Alastor when did you start caring about the hotel and its residents

He's a good dad to Nifty though, 10/10

"You have always been a worthy opponent" Pentious we didn't see you fight Cherri Bomb once in the show

Oh fuck off this More Than Anything reprise is really good

THEY FINALLY KISSED FUCKING HELL

And ofc they had to immediately follow it up with Adam lmao. Not even Alex Brightman can save this character

"That's how they can kill us? With our OWN weapons?" HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW THIS. WHY WAS THIS TREATED LIKE SOME BIG MYSTERY.

It's so fucking wild to me that we're seeing angels get slaughtered by the dozens and yet we're expected to believe no other demons have ever fought back against them until now??

FUCK HIM UP ALASTOR- WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY VOX???

Al's voice in this part??? Hello????????

Charlie why are you apologizing to the angels who are literally trying to slaughter your friends and family

jfc why did those two kiss, how does this show have zero idea how to write romance

oh he's fucking dead lmao

DAMN RAZZLE AND DAZZLE BEING BIG DRAGON BOYS, I'm GAME though Charlie why didn't you do this at the start on the battle

SHIT NO DON'T HURT THE DREG BOYS

FUCK HIM UP CHARLIE.

Vaggie should've taken Lute's eye tbh

Oh yeah you'd think Lucifer would've been here sooner considering the angels are attacking his kingdom but here we are

Honestly I think Charlie should've been the one to defeat Adam. He was fucking awful to her from the start.

NIFTY GOT HIM LMAOOOOOO

Lute why do you care about Adam?? He was awful to you too???

Also what happened to Alastor?? Is he good??

Also kind of wild we're dedicating an entire song to Pentious but his actual death was played off like a joke

Ohh fuck we're gonna demonize Lilith for being a less-than-perfect parent but completely ignore Lucifer doing the same thing aren't we. This happened in Helluva Boss and I can see it happening again

I love how literally no one gives a shit that Alastor's gone lmao

Oh wait there he is

Ooh so he definitely made a deal with someone, very interesting

HE'S AN ANGEL OH MY GOD

Also Lilith??? Is in Heaven???? What??????

Honestly nothing I can say hasn't already been said about this show and finale. Kinda stupid Al literally got hit once and then just fucking dipped until the end, like good job man way to show you cared. BUT ITS OVER AND I'M FREE. I'm gonna go paint my walls and sew some stuff

[bomberqueen17]

bidexterity

OK so yesterday I was cutting out fabric for the next project I'm working on. I'm still at my mother-out-law's house, and Dude was traveling for work, so I was able to go feral and get up to mischief and so I had the entire dining room table covered in cutting mats and was using a rotary cutter.

I discovered to my astonishment that I cannot follow a line accurately with the rotary cutter held in my right hand. I was close but not quite in control.

I use scissors exclusively with my right hand. I don't even own left-handed scissors so I have no idea what my cutting skills would be like. I've certainly never practiced them. I decided in elementary school that lefty scissors were the worst, and never looked back.

I briefly suspected that I was just not good with a rotary cutter, but then I used it in my left hand and had no problem following the lines with good accuracy.

I can only write with my left hand. I've tried doing it with my right, and often mistakenly do so because I can't tell left from right reliably. My right-handed handwriting is not only atrocious but also often backwards. I cannot tell this unless something makes me notice, however. Mostly, how slow it is to write. I don't make this mistake often but when I am very distracted it does come up.

So I'm not like.... perfectly ambidextrous. I was trying to explain it in a discord channel where I'd been talking about the sewing project, and I said, sort of frustratedly, I'm not actually ambidextrous I'm like whatever biphobes think bidexterity would be, to which the inimitable @cacheth replied, "it means both your hands are sluts and not gay enough"

so that's my new crafting slogan, anyway. BOTH my hands are TOO SLUTTY and NOT GAY ENOUGH, is the conclusion.

These not-gay-enough little slut hands did manage to cut out an entire set of pattern bits for the Sew Liberated Limestone Leggings, however, View A, 30" inseam, so we shall see over the next days whether I manage to get them assembled.

I also totally fucked up my hip/lower back crawling around on the floor to cut out a Cashmerette Avola slipdress on the bias, but I also discovered that I could totally get one out of 44" wide yardage, so silk's back on the menu, boys! Someday my fat ass will own a silk slip. Someday. Once my hip goes back to normal and then I decide to fuck it up again. I don't have a cutting mat of a size to work with this so at least I didn't fuck shit up with the rotary cutter.

[foster-the-world]

Best time

Took the girls to a French Fry restaurant/stand in the West Village that I used to go to all of the time when I was in my 20's. Of course, they loved it. Then we went to the Tenement Museum. I love that place. They also liked it. I'm sure somethings went over there head but they still go things out of it. I made them write a passage about it because I'm that kind of Mom. I really want their writing to improve this summer. I was surprised neither of them knew what the word immigrant meant. A third to half of their class is immigrant children. I had booked a tour about a 13year old girl which was geared toward children. Unfortunately, turned out I had booked the wrong day. They kindly let me go on a different tour. We did one called "100 years apart" about a Chinese family in the 1970s and a Prussian/Germany family in the 1870s. The kids got to see a rotary phone and a tape recorder. We've always treated immigrants unfairly/blamed them for our problems and then gotten pissed off when the economy goes to shit when we limit immigration.

Baby boy loved the Danny Go show. He was so into it - my husband and I were dying laughing. We also found a really nice community pool that we took him to three times this weekend. Its free and huge. I'd been to the Central Park pool before I had kids and found it kind of gross. I falsely assumed all city pools would be like that. Was very happy to find out that was not true. Baby boys swimming is getting better everyday.

Don't judge (or do, whatever, we are doing the best we can) but baby boy (4yo in June) still sleeps in a crib with a pop up mesh tent over it. We know we should have gotten him out but there is no way he would stay in a bed if he could easily get out. With this set up he sleeps a solid 11-12 hours per night, without complaint. He knows he can't get out so he doesn't try. He doesn't cry and if he did we would go in. He's very, very bothered when he does not get enough sleep. He's impulsive when he gets enough sleep I cannot imagine his behavior if he did multiple nights without enough sleep. Last night he put a hole in the mesh tent and got right out. Normally he falls asleep within 5-10 minutes. Last night we stayed in the room and it took two hours. Then of course he was up in the middle of the night. He laid in our bed not sleeping for another two hours. I told my husband to warn his teacher. No way he's going to be okay at school today. By the time we see him at 5pm he'll be out of control. I'll sew up the tent tonight. I ordered another one. We should at least try a floor twin bed with a tent over it sometime soon. My Mom/Aunt are coming Wednesday to watch them over the weekend while we go to a wedding. I can't put that on her. I'm sure its like most kid things - someday he will sleep in a big kid bed and I wont even remember worrying about this. We just need to get it over with.

[aidansloth]

Random Gareth Emerson Headcanons:

this is literally the 3rd part of these, and yes, the hyperfixation on this sweet boy is still here (tw, I also accidentally deleted the past version of this and the suicidal tendencies really kicked in yk)

he's a Gryffindor, maybe a bit Hufflepuff but mostly Gryffindor

for my Percy Jackson fans, he's either Ares' or Hermes' kid

he's the type to dye red streaks in his hair after a mental breakdown at 3am

his pajamas consist of red checkered pants and a band tee (I'm looking respectfully sir👀)

is a theatre kid

he puts on full shows in his bedroom when his sister walks in and he SHREEKS

can you IMAGINE him singing at the top of his lungs Say My Name or The Room Where It Happens

he's a History and Science nerd, but is somehow shit at Maths

I'm sorry but he looks like he's about to ask you if you have games on your phone

he has SO MANY HOODIES and you get to steal all of them

don't know if I already said this but he's usually short on money so he handcrafts most of the gifts he gives and also makes a lot of his own jewelry

because he hasn't got a lot of money he makes the best presents, they're all thoroughly thought-out and personal to the individual

he can sew, maybe just as necessity, he can fix a button or shorten stuff I'm sure

wears mismatched socks on purpose

he wants to get industrial and helix piercings, tattoos too but he doesn't know what to get yet

Modern!Gareth loves Pokémon, has all the games and knows all of their names (it's his hyperfixation yes) and he says his favourite Pokémon is Emboar but it's actually Sylveon (he just thinks it's really pretty)

he looks like an Arcanine

him and his family (mom and younger sisters) have Sunday nights where they watch movies and play boardgames together and have junk food

when he introduces you to the family his sisters instantly invite you to these nights. he tries so hard to hide his excitement but he can't help but smile and giggle at the thought of you getting along with his family so well

his mom is so happy to see her son like this (she also very much loves you)

okay I got off track there

loves sci-fi, especially those stories where humans realize they've been treating robots and cyborgs like shit

also loves books with rebellions (totally projecting)

his favourite Disney movie is Mulan and yes, he currently has a crush on Li Shang (rightly so). he was probably his gay awakening

he uses dried flowers as bookmarks

him and Eddie stim together (Autistic Eddie and Gareth with ADHD)

probably said this already but his most common stim is bouncing his leg and clapping

he hates gum

any sort of gum, doesn't like it at all

his bed is full of cushions

LOVES dragons

he thinks they're so cool, they have FIRE and WINGS and they've got SCALES and they're BIG

always keeps the thing-y from cans (my English just died imsorry) and makes them into jewelry

he has the whole set of tools to do that too

he's also the one that fixes everything in the house

I also think that the whole of Corroded Coffin is going to live together in an apartment

once Jeff woke him up at 4am because a lightbulb went out in his room and didn't know how to turn fix it

that apartment is going to be a mess

no offence to them obviously, but they are teenage boys, what do you expect (I mean this with love I swear)

(for anyone who has read The Raven Cycle, it's going to be like the guy's apartment, even with the toilet in the kitchen)

the times they've forgotten that one of them is taking a shower and walked right in on them are countless

they always try to have some time together, since they're all busy with either work or college (I'm probably going to make another set of headcanons for this, it really just got my brain going)

can't decide if he'd either kill bugs without hesitation or if he'd be the guy to run away screaming

cause I know Eddie frees them into the wild

and I need to know if they're gonna fight about the bug's fate for 3 hours like they're meant to

Gareth would kill for chicken nuggets

i didn't feel like checking spelling so I apologize for any mistakes

[bigdvmnhero]

summary:

"They say you'll save us all," the yokai continued. "A lofty fate. Wouldn't you say, ronin?" I don't want it, Mikey thought, surprised by the fierceness of it. Take it from me.

chapter two | prev | ao3

It had been a good few paralyzing months since Leo last answered to anyone, but April would be damned if she let him walk away now. "C'mon, Leo," she called after him. "Calm down."

"I'm calm?" came the bewildered laugh.

But the brisk footfalls ahead slowed, and Leo pulled his sword arm back to slice a platter-sized portal open. Then he shoved his head inside it.

Distantly, April thought she heard a muffled pterodactyl screech of pure, unbridled fury.

A passing soldier broke into a panicked half-jog.

"See?" Leo stepped back, and his eyes were unfazed when he fastened them on her. "I'm great. Just—fantastic." The portal twinkled behind him; in another universe, April would have cannonballed right in, straight into a life sweet as neon punch. "Wanna try?" he offered brightly.

April didn't trust that grin; it had secret blades hidden all over it. Leo's weapon of choice.

Silence, it appeared, was April's. Something Leo had very little experience with it. For all his expertise, he tended to buckle under it in seconds. Starting now.

"You could toss stuff into it too," Leo added, conspiratory. "Just don't ask me where it goes."

April crossed her arms.

"Don't wooooorry about it—it's a Donnie problem, m'kay? Just find something fun to break."

Ten seconds. In the meantime, April mastered her best impression of a rock. Flat and unimpressed.

"Maybe not anything useful though. I kinda love having chairs. Donnie's bunsen burners, though..."

She pitched an eyebrow up—the final blow. Leo sagged like a puppet.

"Fine." He twirled his sword and the portal sewed itself shut. "But don't come looking for me when you're feeling cranky..."

The abandoned subterranean warehouse they called their base offered near-complete protection from the elements, courtesy of Donnie most of all. A tradeoff was the lack of private enclosures to talk shit about little brothers, or even to enjoy a brief mental breakdown under the impossible weight of the apocalypse.

This, April reasoned, was the only reason Leo remained standing, hip-cocked, seemingly unbowed by the promise of her verbal fire. "Listen, alright?" she began—biting back the you dumb little shit her own trigger-happy tongue threatened to fire—she could be zen; remember your training, O'Neil? "All I'm saying is, you can't run your men ragged like that."

"Oh, my fault? I'm running them ragged?" And god, Leo could be such a drama kid when he wanted to be. "Who keeps pulling them out of the field last minute? Who's stuffing them in airships to play babysitter for billionaires doing fuck all to help us, because their butler Miguel just got Kraangified cleaning the fucking—infinity pool, or whatever? Not me. I'm not their leader."

"Well, you sure are actin' like it," she answered, and they stood there looking cross at each other as another soldier squirreled past them. The boy had waved seeing April from the end of the hallway, only to skip past as if dodging hot coals after realizing Leo was standing there too, like a vengeful apparition of god.

Under the dull warehouse fluorescents, Leo was less god, more patron saint of jaded-eyed misery. Some missionary for the church of Stick Up My Ass. And anyway, April's faith was deteriorating, and fast.

Away from the blitz of the battlefield, the civilians' adoring eyes, this version of Leo was a blunted edge. She missed his sharp jokes. She'd never say it, but it was one of the things she envied most about him. Clever-quipped, facetious, all-seeing Leo. Come back, idiot, she thought.

Alone again, she rounded on him. "Didn't we talk about this? Like it or not, these men aren't trained like us. We gotta set our expectations straight. Those guys? They are our fair-weather rag-tag volunteer team. At least, for now. And most of 'em think we're just dumb kids, Lee. They're not gonna fall in line all because we know a ninja trick or two!"

Leo lifted his chin. "Well, if their men are so important to them, why aren't the EPF here? Why are we the ones training them? Even Donnie's supplying most of our arms at this rate. Hell—we're feeding them! Three meals a day, April; like we're some kind of roadside hotel—"

"Rats and sci-fi food cubes are hardly—"

"What am I supposed to do then?" The question was sudden, gummed with emotion, and that was how April knew Leo was cracking. Finally—something real. "Raph's out there, risking his shell each day so no alien overlords breach our border. Donnie's straight up killing himself just trying to keep our base functional, and Mikey—" Leo's throat swallowed the rest. April looked away. Easier to finish the sentence for him in her own mind: Mikey, who phased through the days, seemingly unchanged. Mikey, who never cried since.

Leo dragged a hand down his face. "Meal planning should be the least of our concerns. These guys are eating through our rations—rations civilians are happy to give up, by the way, if it means we can protect them. And I can overlook them being sloppy and untrained—I'll take a little mutant racism, too, sure, why not!" April winced. "But complaining about the food? Come on," and the laugh was wrong all over, barbed with something dark.

April couldn't blame him; it had bothered her too, the way they took hesitant bites of the tough white bread they'd served, half-emptied the cans of beans and dried meat, pushing their plates away, the stuff unfinished, and sure it had been the old same fare they'd been having for the past four months—going on five now—the taste long indistinguishable from dusty cinder blocks, but it was all they had. It was that, or Donnie's nutrient cubes. Or the rats. At least they had options.

People died for those options.

Killed, too.

"I get it," April said, but Leo was shaking his head.

"Do you? 'Cause I'm sick of this publicity stunt the EPF's doing. Calling me and my brothers heroes, then leaving us with what? Psh." He sent a bitter smile skyward that could've melted through the beams. "I'm done."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm not about this puppet leader gig, April. Or the lies, or the sappy radio speeches I gotta do every week to convince the world everything's sunny and great and nice. It's clear none of them care about protecting the little guys." His voice dropped into a hardened stone, the resoluteness in it barely restrained. He stepped close. "Me? I'm ready to do something real, April. Something big. And I need real soldiers out there. In the dirt, with me. With us."

Later, she would regret not telling him of the deep pride she felt for him, at that moment. But in her chest was its twin star—grief, white-hot and insistent. It demanded all of her. "I hear ya, Leo. I promise." She reached for his bristling shoulder. "But you need... you need to give them time. They've lost stuff too, you know."

"Not this," Leo groaned, then turned to resume his march down the hallway. April gave chase. In the past month alone Leo had shot up like an oak tree; it was taking her twice as many steps just to keep up.

"C'mon, Lee. Wait."

He kept walking.

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that." He threw finger guns in the air.

Well, damn, April thought, nobody told me today was Little Shit Sunday, and pulled him by his mask tails.

Leo yelped something undignified.

He was so used to people walking on eggshells around him he'd forgotten how rotten April's big sister play could be, and honestly? That was on him. Six feet tall, and it was still on him.

Leo whirled on her, face twisted in exaggerated affront. Gleefully, April wished she had a camera; Raph would eat this up, like the day Leo's own blade snapped in his face. Never heard the end of it. "I wasn't finished. So! Ready to listen now?"

"Yeah," Leo said. He didn't look happy about it.

"Good. Thought so. 'Cause I was just about to say that yesterday, these guys weren't soldiers. They were just people. Know what I mean? Just dumb, silly people, silly kids, with jobs and hobbies and stuff to look forward to. And now they're soldiers. Y'know what that's like?"

Leo glued his eyes stubbornly on the bare cement wall behind her, but he let his jaw be turned. There was a new notch in his shoulder, healing nicely; April had stitched it herself. Leo didn't cry, but he'd clutched at April's knee the whole time, his grip clammy and white-knuckled. Said, what's a turtle gotta do to get some entertainment 'round here? And, wait, don't use up the thread, Cass's gonna need to change hers out sooner or later.

"Maybe," Leo answered.

"Nah, I know you do," April said—their best friend April now, not war advisor April or whatever role she played to keep them all sane. "Bet you know it better than any of us. Oi—eyes on me. Whatcha thinking about in that head of yours anyway?"

"Well, for one—" he pushed her hand away, but there was something shifting aside in his face, "how the only reason any of those guys listen to me is because of you." When April snorted, he continued. "I'm not trying to flatter you. If you hadn't spoken for us back then, I'm pretty sure the EPF would've gotten rid of us. Bet they're just itching to finish the job."

April didn't like to think about that. "Well, that's 'cause none of you know when to keep your mouths shut. Someone's gotta keep your asses in line. Maybe I will be commander one day, just for that." When Leo didn't seem to toss the idea aside like she wanted him to, she shook his shoulders before the conspiring glint in his eye could manifest into something. "All I'm saying is, y'all stuck with me. And I see you, Leo."

She cupped his cheek again. A long time ago, Leo would've leaned into her hand, basked in her easy affection. Now he turned rigid under any touch.

"I know things are all sorts of fucked right now, but I'm your friend first. Always am. We're on your side. 'Kay?"

Leo's eyes went back to the wall; April turned his face again, patient.

"And your brothers are war machines, sure. But they're your brothers, too." She couldn't help it—she pinched both his cheeks hard. Leo yelped then glowered. April stood her ground; the guy had to be put in his place regularly, or there was just no living with him. "And you're not just their leader. Not to them. Got it?"

"—seriously manhandling—"

"Got it?"

"—yes ma'am, okay, sheesh!"

"And you," April called out, lifting her gaze skyward, "you're not slick. I can literally hear you breathing."

Twenty feet up, hanging upside down from the high ceiling by spidershell-arms, Donnie and Mikey stared back with wide eyes.

In Mikey's arms was a hefty black vinyl bag, nearly twice his size. In Donnie's arms was Mikey. They shared a brief look that belonged to two doomed men and seemed to swallow their tongues.

An eternity passed in stilted silence.

For the first time in his life, Leo didn't get the first word in.

"Oh, mama, and would you look at the time, Dee—we are crazy late for brunch service!" Mikey kicked Donnie into action, and they crawled and skittered and fumbled through the final stretch to the hatch in the ceiling, which Donnie's robo-arms began to dismantle with frenetic speed. "Gotta run! I've got an army to feed, like literally! Talk later, 'kay?"

With a crash, they disappeared in a blur of robo-arms. The hatch fell shut. The echo traveled boldly through the wide enclosure, and, horrified, April turned to watch the way Leo's face changed, realizing it mattered little if she'd given him an earful that day or not; not when Mikey would figure out how to soften up the resistance members in ways Leo couldn't even fathom—all with a bowl of leftover rice fluffed with heat, scallions, eggs—"Eggs?!" Leo repeated—a dash of patience, and good ol' MSG, sweetening the dank underground base with the ambrosial smell of homemade cooking, all made in Splints' trusty rice cooker—and boy did they love that rice cooker. Hadn't that been exactly one of Splinter's lessons to her?

She shook her head with a smile, watching the miracle unfold. That's right, she thought. The fight you win is the fight you don't need to have.

Oh, Splints. She missed him something fierce. Later, she would crack open her old martial arts book to study her own sixteen-year-old writing on the margins, lessons from a lifetime ago trying to save the last great Lou Jitsu dojo. Splinter taught her everything she knew.

Maybe there had been things she'd dropped along the way. But now she picked up that old snakeskin, and remembered.

:::

They'd started off on the wrong foot—but even that was probably an understatement, wasn't it? Before they were violently forced underground, they were garment workers, porters, fishermen, who knew very little of New York and its supposed mutant saviors. To them, Mikey and his brothers were science fiction: green, scaly abominations from botched Frankensteinian experiments.

I'll take it, Raph had said. Way better than "demons." Remember the cult who tried trapping us in salt circles? Yeesh.

Donnie had shrugged it off. Mikey forgave it. Leo called it "a tactical advantage" and nurtured their fear until it grew into something else, something closer to awe.

For months, they shared no language. Nothing but the desire to survive. When Leo first showed the scrappy crowd how it was done—slaughtering a Kraang with nothing but rust-eaten gardening tools, stealth, and a whole lot of attitude—the spell was complete.

Almost.

Leo was used to leading three unruly brothers. But thirty? Mikey watched his brother's patience fray at the edges. Older survivors pointed at Leo's youth, but still Leo pushed, and he pushed hard.

Until they pushed back. Until the EPF started shuttling out their men, and their men let them, in exchange for one night of excess. Until they grew sick of the training, it was thankless work, sick of the drab, featureless cinderblock walls, of the bone-deep hunger, of the congealing loss of home far from the sun and Leo's uncanny asshole motherfucker era—ahem.

Mikey knew what he had to do. One spoonful of that fluffy, perfectly salted rice—and it had to be rice, didn't any of Mikey's brothers know these guys were kin? White bread for breakfast was just never gonna cut it—and the change was near palpable. Homesickness fled from their faces like horseflies. They filed into position, ready for the day's mission. Didn't even roll their eyes during Leo's attack demo of the day.

It had been just like this, once. Communal breakfasts every weekend. The lair smelling blessedly of butter. Mikey stacking each of his brothers' plates sky-high with pancakes, the thanks for the meal, Mikester, the head pats, the way Mikey loved life most when surrounded by all of them.

"By Galileo’s—is that a sugary drink." Donnie sat back on the bench at record speed when Mikey pulled out a Dr. Pepper he'd especially saved for this occasion. "I haven't had sugar in... I can't even say it. It’s too tragic.”

Mikey popped the lid and poured it delicately into his brother’s cup. Then, tongue poking out his mouth, he decided to tip the can over completely, letting it slosh around the sides. "Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?"

Donnie received his offering with wide eyes. "My cupeth."

Mikey clinked their cups together. "Shall runneth over, brother."

Donnie pulled one, long, hard gulp and considered the ceiling, dazed. He seemed to have arrived at some miraculous realization Mikey wasn’t privy to, like the secrets of nuclear fission, or the flight pattern of small, brown birds. "Huh. Wow." He blinked owlishly at Mikey, like he did at the end of a meditation, then put his cup down. He tapped his chest. "I suppose you may have one." He jabbed a finger in the air. "One!"

Mikey rose from his seat. "Dee…"

"One minute max," Donnie corrected firmly. But he unfurled his arms and smiled.

"One minute!" Mikey lost it. He threw himself into Donnie's embrace, and the bench almost tipped them over; this day was the best. Fluffy eggs on rice, Donnie hugs (twice! in one day!), and a happy resistance, at least for now.

His organic stash would need sorting. The leafy veggies had to be pickled, in jars of brine before winter arrived and frosted the base. Planting the beans would be easy, and easier still—the potatoes. Junior would love potatoes. Cloud-soft and heavenly once boiled. It would be months until their dumpster baby grew out his baby teeth; maybe they all could use something gentle.

And then Donnie stiffened in Mikey's arms, and Mikey knew his time was up.

Leo was walking towards their table.

"Alas, while this was delightful—" Donnie shot upright, "I must bid you farewell, beloved brother, for I have to.... dismantle a gun. Or several."

Mikey mirrored him. "M-me too!"

"You don't possess firearms."

"Well, I could!" Leo was drawing closer, his expression unreadable. "You don't know that!"

Donnie's eyebrows beetled quizzically. "Well, why haven't you shown me then? Do you need an upgrade?"

"An upgra—no! I got my own! Cool fire chain, remember!"

"Angelo, while your fundo is a highly impressive hand-held melee weapon, I would hardly place it in the same category as my own—"

"Donnie!" Mikey panicked. "I think we both agree we have very important things to do! Not here!"

"Right." Donnie nodded hastily. "Goodbye." They moved to part ways.

Something fast and made of steel flashed through the air. It thudded into the table between them, a perfect equidistance.

Leo's katana. The hilt convulsed like an arrow's feather.

Miraculously, Donnie lost his slouch, and Mikey let out an honest-to-god squeak, which could've been dignified if he wasn't seventeen and a half.

In the next second, Leo had apparated on the table across them, his grip loose on the hilt. He made no motion of pulling his weapon out. Instead, he reached over to peer curiously into Donnie's bowl.

"Leftovers? Come on, guys. We're better than this." Leo clucked. "Oh, lookity! These are prime stuff, Mike. Rice and eggs, too?" A long whistle. "Didn't know our desert hideout had a farm now. Why're you two standing there? Have somewhere to be? Sit."

They sat.

"Hi, Leo," Mikey managed.

"Hi, Mikey.” Leo rested his cheek on his palm. "Had fun today?"

"I did! I mean—" Donnie kicked his shin, and Mikey swallowed his story. There it was. Not a lot of people could tell the difference, but Mikey could. There was the resistance's Hamato Leonardo, and there was Leo, who normally had an airy head tone, was receptive to Mikey's puppy dog eyes, and did not fling sharp, damning sentences disguised as innocent open-ended questions, like so.

Donnie stepped in. “Alright Leo, I know our tardiness might've caused a bit of a surprise—“

“Oh, I knew,” Leo answered. “Raph said it’d be a quick detour. Probably super important, though, right?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Mikey said, at the same time Donnie mumbled a vindictive, that snitch, under his breath.

The bowl was poked, prodded, and sniffed in Leo's hand. “I mean, it must be. Important enough to miss morning drills.” Leo pulled his sword free. Donnie winced at the grating schwing. “But hey—at least breakfast is bomb, am I right?”

“The most important meal of the day?” Mikey tried weakly.

Officially, this was the worst; Donnie couldn’t lie to save his life, and Mikey’s resolve was slowly chipping away like paint under Leo’s magnifying-glass eyes.

Leo dipped his finger in the bowl and lifted a grain of rice to the light. It was short grain, firm and glutinous, grown only in the lush countryside. Or perfectly-engineered geodesic domes.

Leo made a low whistle. "Now, would you take a look at this beauty.”

Donnie seemed to understand they were damned. “I assure you, Nardo, it was a careful operation, everything was sourced ethically and responsibly.” To this, Leo snorted. “Alright. So the ethical part is... dubious. But the keyword is alive. Mikey’s safe, our hideout's uncompromised, and we’ve done the honors of feeding your soldiers a meal they probably haven’t had since the world went kaput. I don't see why you’re making such a fuss.”

"Oh, so we're going there? Okay." Leo leaned forward with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Why shouldn’t I worry. Starting with you, Dontron. Shall I count the ways?"

"I am detecting a rhetorical question—"

"One." Leo held a finger up. “You’ve had several heart palpitations during training this week—” Two fingers, “—April found you in the lab two days ago, because you had a cardiac episode from your blood pressure deciding to go skydiving—"

“What!” Betrayed, Mikey whipped his head back at Donnie, whose face seemed to have all the green frightened out of it. "Donnie!"

Leo continued, all three fingers up now, “Not to mention that time you went fucking blind in one eye because of a migraine, which—who knew, right? I sure as hell didn't."

“Ugh, yeah, I know." The Ceo and owner of Genius Tech groaned into his multiple spider-shell arms. "Embarrassing. LOL."

“LOL?” Leo's voice pitched strangely; Mikey couldn't look. "LOL?"

“Laugh out—look, it happened one time—“

"It should be ZERO times," Leo boomed, and the bowls shook as a fist pounded the table. For once Mikey agreed, feeling the first stirrings of understanding with this strange new bristling version of his brother, like the phony amalgamation of every parental figure in their sorry lives. This lasted for about two seconds. And then Leo whirled on him. "And you, Mikey darling, my baby brother."

"And me, your baby brother." The affection in Mikey's gut soured into dread. "And me..."

“Was it fun, doing some last-minute shopping at The Gardens?"

And darn, Leo was good. Too good. But Mikey’s prized hoard was still under the table, hidden behind the shadows and Mikey’s busted knees, undiscovered. Things were still salvageable.

While Mikey kicked the bag further into obscurity, Leo geared up for a Talk. “Honestly, joyrides in the middle of work aren’t for me, but I get it. Really, I do. This apocalypse sitch gets old, doesn't it? Food stinks, too. But it’s way too early in the game to be slacking off. If you wanna fuck off god knows where because you need a vacation? Be my guest. But you better be in the best shape of your lives. Better than ever. Better than me.”

Leo pushed himself off the bench and honest-to-god paced. Meanwhile, Donnie rolled his eyes so far back into his head Mikey was afraid it’d be permanent.

“We can't rely on our mystic powers anymore. I need you guys to hone your hard skills like they're the only tools you've got left. Because they are. People are counting on it." Leo paused to shoot a look over his shoulder. "Donnie-dear, if you don't start taking care of yourself and die a sad pathetic death in your lab, I promise, as your leader I am and will release all your tech to the EPF. Including all your trademark rights."

Donnie looked like he'd faint. "You wouldn't."

"Try me. And Mikey—we need to double down on your drills, and no more skipping out on training with Draxum. You can't razzmatazz out of this one. We need to figure out how to harness all that mystic potential of yours, and your basics are terrible as it is. What did we say about practicing?"

Mikey mumbled.

Leo tapped his ear. "Sorry, what was that?"

“Practice is your friend,” Mikey recited in a flat line. "For we are what we repeatedly do."

That seemed to perk Leo up. "Exactly! So I’ll see you for drills bright and early tomorrow morning.” Leo turned to go. “See? Knew you'd come around. And alright, I don't think your form is terrible, Mike—but you don't have to be doing all things all the time. I appreciate a little creativity in battle, but sometimes a good offense is a good defense."

“Sometimes a good offense is a good defense,” Mikey mimicked under his breath.

Leo froze mid-stride.

Mikey clapped a hand over his mouth with a resounding slap. Donnie, who had a semi-clear view of Leo’s face, turned his gaze to Mikey and gave a brief shake of his head. His flat, dead-eyed smile seemed to say, seeyanara, little brother.

“Leo,” Mikey tried, as Leo's back turned. “I mean—sensei. I mean—my big brother whom I love very very much, you know that, don't you? C’mon. I was just having a laugh, just having a little jokey-joke—”

“Changed my mind! We’ll do drills now, actually,” Leo said brightly. He clapped his hands once. “Twenty one-arm push-ups.”

Mikey collapsed like a Jenga pile onto the table. "Nooooo, not the push-ups! They get so old.”

“Fifty, then." Leo smiled, serene. "Where you going, Dee? You're up too. We’re sparring—and no battleshell tricks.”

“Please, god, why," Donnie moaned, at the same time Mikey begged, "Can I do some backflips instead?”

“A hundred then, lucky you!" Leo walked towards Mikey's end of the table, and Mikey didn't think he was going to do what he thought he was about to, but Leo had a penchant for surprising him. "Whatever that thing is under the table must be so worth it.”

Mikey's brain whited out. “Wait, wait! Don’t touch Donnie’s stuff!” and Leo paused, mid-reach. “He was scared we were running low on coffee rations, s-so we went to get a refill!”

A flicker of betrayal passed through Donnie's face. But he plastered on an unnatural smile. "Aha—whaaaat. Mikey.”

Leo’s calculating gaze hovered between them. But he’d stopped walking—small victories. “Thought we had a month of coffee left," he said, frowning.

"Apologies if I can't keep track of every single thing in this household!" Donnie shot back.

Leo crossed his arms. To Mikey, he barked, “Still no push-ups happening, camarada. You're not getting out of this one. And no magic gateways—"

Without warning, Donnie threw his weight carelessly onto Leo and dragged his bandana sideways so it blinded him. “Sparring!" he screeched. To Mikey: "Gateway, now! I’ll hold him back!”

Mikey needed no further instruction. He dived under the table, snatched his hoard while he pulled the portal open from beyond the verge—that was two mystic incidents today, Draxum was going to strangle him—and dove headfirst into the safe haven on the other side. “Bless you Dee, I will remember your sacrifice!” Baby brother privileges, babey.

:::

Donnie's sole makeshift hospital bed was permanently creaky now, no thanks to Cassandra's frequent visits.

She was in it every two weeks—grinning toothily through a broken bone or twenty. More recently, she enjoyed mounting full productions for her audience of one (1) wrinkly human baby. Donnie was not freaked out by this baby. If he was, it was not because the kid had way too much hair and eyes that absorbed all light or gurgled the way babies gurgled which made Donnie's chest go all funny and turn sideways-weird.

Imagine if I named the kid after another one of those renaissance dudes too, Cassandra cawed, doing jumping jacks on the bed with the kid giggling in her elbow until the final CRACK. They both looked down at the mattress. Now that was extra crunchy, Cassandra said.

Donnie kicked her out shortly.

Not, of course, before fixing the slipshod work she dared call a splint. And stay out! he'd yelled. I don't want to see your face here for at least two weeks, you hear me?

Gleefully, she flipped him off. In front of the kid, too.

Now the bed made a despondent creak as it accommodated Raph's weight. The heft of his new prosthetic confounded him, made him bump into corners, and accidentally crush people's fingers with his brand-new strength.

"Alright, bossman," Donnie sighed. Only 2:30 PM and he felt like he'd lived through a week. "You're up."

Raph managed to lie down. He took one look up at Donnie's world-weary face and smirked. "Chewed you out, didn't he."

"Yeah, well someone had to go and gab."

Donnie got his face squished like a grape for that. "Someone keeps forgetting I'm still the oldest. I may not be your leader, but you guys are still my pain in the ass. Knew you were up to something foolish. So fess up." Donnie made an indignant, muffled sound under Raph's bear hand. "What?"

Donnie gasped as Raph released him. "I was saying, Mikey needs his cooking essentials, and I need mine. We have a mutually beneficial partnership going on. That's all." He pulled his goggles down. "He's also my favorite brother, so." Meant: what Mikey wants, Mikey gets.

"Well, Mikey's going to be the death of you, at this rate." Raph narrowed his eyes. "But it looks like Leo took care of it, whatever that was. If I hear about you mutating any more leafy freaks though—"

Donnie's robo-arms, which had branched off from his shell to get to work on the prosthetic, paused mid-air as Donnie choked. "You dare speak ill of my daughter! Cristina, my beautiful venus fly trap, gone too soon—you will never understand! She was nature's most remarkable survivor, evolved to persist in nutrient-poor environments to fancy a pound of flesh." Donnie's gaze turned wistful. "I was so close, Raphael. Only a few experiments left before I rewired her wetware to develop a taste for vile Kraang meat."

"Nothing about that sentence terrifies me at all," Raph said.

"That is why you are my favorite patient. How was your week?"

Raph's head flopped back on the bed. "Shit. Where to begin?" He talked as Donnie tuned up his arm, telling him about the kid from the dumpster, the only miracle in the last few crappy, mind-numbing weeks; the Tamagotchi he and Cassandra found, still-slumbering in its million light year sleep; new Kraang-free patrol routes, and more secret pathways he'd negotiated with the help of the alliance; a dusty Walkman, a Foo Fighters cassette left in, for keeps.

In exchange, Donnie rambled on about their food supply, his EPF meeting notes, a hoverboard for Mikey, but under wraps for now, the new stealth gear prototypes he'd hoped would pass beta-testing soon, if only he'd more time to collect materials—

"Dee," Raph laughed up at him. “This isn’t one of your roundtable meetings, okay? It’s just me."

Donnie tightened a loose screw under Raph's armpit. "Oh, uh, of course. Lift your arm?"

Raph lifted it. "Oh yeah. Way better."

"Excellent. Your gait isn't as natural as I hoped, but I'll replace the hardware with lighter materials soon."

"Appreciate it, Dee. How'd you find time to get all this stuff?"

"I multitask. Wiggle your thumb?"

Raph wiggled it. "You getting enough sleep, though?"

Donnie laughed, too loud. "Squeeze your fist?"

"Seriously. How're things holding up?"

Donnie peered into a magnifying glass one of his shell-arms slid under his nose and poked around Raph's inner elbow, then fibula. "Truth be told? I'm surprised Earth Protection let us off easy today; then again, I am the brains behind this entire operation. It'd be amiss to threaten their very own arms provider. I should've known Mikey would pull something like this, but I'm just glad to see him—"

“I mean—how are you doing, Donnie?"

“Me?" Donnie blinked slow, like he'd never heard that sentence in that order before. "I'm fine. Can we try some wrist rotations?"

Unimpressed, Raph did as told. The motion was stilted; it couldn't do a full 360. The magnifying glass was swapped for a fine-toothed wrench.

"I'll fix that," Donnie said, then faltered when he realized Raph was still waiting on him, the weight in his eyes undeniable. "What? It's true."

And it was; confessions around Raph were easy somehow. Like how last night, Donnie had admitted thinking he'd definitely hit his rebellious edgy teenage phase under Splinter—heck, even Raph himself—but Leo? Now there was a surprise. And how the cookies Mikey baked Donnie made him break out. Some kind of delayed turtle allergy, and he'd kept eating the stuff anyway. How he both hated and secretly loved listening to Leo's radio speeches, in the secret early hours of dawn when the base and his own brain was still, in need of nothing.

Raph asked him again, but this was one confession Donnie couldn't give up. It was half-formed, bloody, still stuck in the wreck. Donnie couldn't look at it yet.

"Seriously, brother, you should see Mikey—" Donnie began, but the bed creaked like a warning, and Raph was pushing himself up on his elbows.

"I'm worried about Mike, too. But we'll get to him in a bit. You idiots are two sides of the same coin, really. I mean, I haven't seen the kid cry since—"

Donnie dropped his wrench. He stared at it for a moment, then bent to pick it up. When he moved back to his seat Raph's gaze settled on him, kind and all-knowing, with a quiet sort of power that could disassemble any man.

"Sooner or later we gotta talk about this, Dee." Raph touched his head. "'S'not your fault. If Pops was here—"

"Don't," Donnie said. "Please."

Somewhere, Unnamed Baby burst into a fit of giggly baby gibberish; Cassandra needed to hurry it up with a name soon, and it had to be good, or they were all going to have a fifth Renaissance man running around the base. The exoskeleton on Raph's arm exuded no blood-warmth. But it curled around Donnie's wrist like a bolstering force all the same.

Donnie's hands began to shake.

"Donnie," Raph said. "Hey. It's alright now."

Donnie hunched his shoulders in, determined to finish the wiring on the inner elbow. "I'll get better materials soon."

"Don't matter right now—"

"This part right here—the socket hurts when it gets cold, doesn't it? I'll find something more durable before winter rolls in. I'll fix it. I promise."

Raph's flesh arm gripped his shoulder. "I know you will."

Donnie shook his head like Raph didn’t understand. His face felt hot, his own hands numb and not his, like the day he dragged Raph out from under the burning wreck of their lair, around them a bloodshot sky that fishbowled from its own weight. A red blistering eye in the sky, and how he ran. He ran like hell. “And I’m gonna make you the best.”

Raph stared at him. “The coolest fucking arm in the world,” he agreed.

“Damn right," Donnie rasped.

This was a hug; Donnie was sure that what was happening. But the awkward way Raph half-sat up and curled around his slouched shell was still disputable. "But," Raph said, "just for the record? I think this one's awesome, too."

Donnie scrubbed his eyes, feeling miserable. "You haven't even seen the best part," he mumbled, then showed him the secret button where a fourth, extra finger could be triggered.

Raph stared and stared at what had only been a life's dream, until now. Now, the possibilities were opening up. "Shit, Dee. I'll do you proud," Raph promised, lifting his middle finger in the air, and Donnie didn't doubt it. Never could. It was Raph.

:::

Mikey crashed face-first with a muffled screech into a patch of soft, loamy earth, and that was how he knew he was a long way from home. A quiet valley greeted him on the other side of the mystic gateway. Gone were the sparse desert plains, the arid, sun-choked skies. No angry Leo either.

He was lost, but there was that.

And he still had his stash with him.

Victory dance it was. After he grew tired of shaking his shell, he looked around at the landscape properly and nearly collapsed.

"Cabbages?" he cried. The farm was the size of a small swimming pool, with only eight rows of intersecting crops and one house with a thatched roof at the center. Nothing like the mind-blowing stretch of sand at home, or the imposing domes of The Gardens. But it had cabbages. Mikey needed cabbages. These looked a little small, but their puckered faces opened up to him like rosebuds; Mikey knew a miracle when he saw one.

"Excuse me!" he called out. "You have a lovely farm! Would you be able to spare some of your bee-you-ti-ful cabbages? I need it for a dish!"

For my annoying no-fun older brother, Mikey didn't add. He threw the bag down from his shoulder and reached his arm to snag its contents. "I'll trade ya for it? I got the goods!"

A windchime blew. A breeze, barely there, carded through the crops. Mikey could count on two hands the places still untouched by the invasion; the Kraang must have business elsewhere.

"Anyone?" Mikey approached the house. A toy car was on the ground, wheels still spinning. Someone had been here. "Oh, I get it! I'm not with the Kraang, don't worry! Name's Mikey! Just your friendly neighborhood mutant turtle, at your service."

He thought he saw the curtains behind the window rustle. The word on the doorjamb was strange; Mikey swore he recognized that alphabet system somewhere.

"Erm, you've probably heard of us. Or my brother? Leonardo?" Mikey was at the window now. Wild grass crunched beneath his feet. "Bright blue bandana, cool sword, used to be smiley but not really anymore—saved New York? No? Oh, okay. Well, rescuing people's kind of our thing. You could join us! It's not safe out here."

"We can take care of our own." Came the sudden voice, gruff and dark behind the door. The curtains at the window parted. Two small heads poked out, inquisitive eyes studying him. And on their faces: beaks.

Yokai.

Mikey swallowed; there hadn't been a lot to meet, not after the Hidden City invasion. As far as Draxum told him, they had scattered themselves like leaves.

"Please, I insist," Mikey said. "My brothers—we have a safehouse, you'll be protected—"

"Just take what you need and go, kappa," the voice said. We don't consort with humans. We've always taken care of ourselves."

"Well, if you change your mind..." Mikey kicked at a pebble. "I'll come back! I'd draw you a map, but... safety-wise, that's probably not a good idea. So, uh. I'll help myself then?"

Nothing. Silence means yes, Mikey thought, and took his fill. He shook the soil from his hands and called out his thanks before starting down the path; Donnie's trackers would find him eventually, followed by his getaway ride, a speck of purple in the clouds. Donnie always found him.

Twenty steps. Then he paused, considering the sky. He didn't mean to turn back, but the soil there felt acidic and coarse, tell-tale signals that the farm would be barren soon; and if it wasn't from climate change, it would be the Kraang themselves, then what would be left? 

Blowing out a breath, Mikey dropped his hoard by the stranger's doorstep.

"We would've made magic together. I just know it," he whispered regrettably, patting its side like an old friend. Empty-handed, he turned to go.

He could always get more stuff; Donnie had negotiated for him, after all. Before he could get far, a creaky hinge groaned, and the yokai was there, leaning on the door jamb.

"Michelangelo, wasn't it? We know who you are." The stranger towered over him. A tough crocodile snout belied an intelligent voice. "Your brothers, as well. But you... well. They say you're special. Is it true you can summon the sun itself?"

Mikey half-laughed, half-wheezed. "Wh—me?"

The stranger considered him. "They say you're growing to be the greatest warriors the world has ever known. Granted with extraordinary power."

I don't want it, Mikey thought, surprised by the fierceness of it. I never asked for it.

The children were still watching him from the window. "They say you'll save us all," the yokai continued. "A lofty fate. Wouldn't you say, ronin?"

I don't want it, Mikey thought, reaching into the depths of him for a shaky smile. Take it from me. Give me my father back.

He shrugged, then turned down the path, watching the clouds for the telltale signs of his brother. "Just Mikey's fine," he insisted, waving goodbye, and this time did not look back.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 64

They're getting back together! THEY'RE GETTING BACK TOGETHER!!! Even the title says so!

It's a plug for rings ... oh dear gods what is Sam going to do to us? Oh wow ... he's going SURREAL this time ... and super bugging Matt too ... I'm loving this ... this is one of the best ones yet ...

Laura: "Is it just gonna say 'Sam' for the rest of the night?" XD

Matt: "Let's get on and jump into tonight's episode of ... Sam & a Sam!" LOL

Okay ... how's this gonna go, then? How's it gonna start? Who's at the table first?

Ah ... it's the first group ... okay then ...

Fuck! Everybody takes 18 points of Force Damage MID JUMP?!!! Seriously?

Travis just made THE EXACT same roll ... fuck ... AND THEY TAKE ANOTHER 15 POINTS?!!! Bloody hell ...

Matt says it's getting all Doctor Strange ... yeah, Travis is EXACTLY where my brain went too ...

13? Fuck, Laura ... is that good or bad? Are they all gonna die? They're all SO NERVOUS ...

Landing! Oof ... and now FRIDA can't speak the Common Tongue ... Deanna does a hard reset on them! XD

On top of a mountain? Where the hell are they? Oof ... thus don't sound right ... ummmmm ... not Marquet, then ... birds? Wait ... they're being MOBBED now? FCG: "Are they coming for ME?"

Oh shit, they're UNDER ATTACK?!!! Crap ... yeah, just show your bellies, guys!

A group Dex save? Oof ... and now they're TRAPPED!!! Yup ... that's about right ...

Oh, Chetney may have just got them ALL killed ...

FCG is bricking it ... "Are you friends with Shithead? Did he send you?"

So they're bird PEOPLE ... Aarakocras? Is that it, then?

Fuck, Laura's rolling SHITE tonight ... Aabria's determined to confiscate her dice before she gets them killed. XD

Fearne for a Persuasion check instead ... okay ... 24? Fucking hell ... oh shit, did it WORK finally?

Oh, blindfolds? For a second thst was worrying ...

Still on Wildemount, then ... hmmm ...

The aeormatons can SPEAK TO EACH OTHER IN THEIR HEADS now? When did that start?

Crap, FCG's getting red-eye again ...

Now Fearne's trying to talk them into a free ride ... oh, that's a bad roll ... or not? Hmmmmm ... um ... yeah, I don't think this is gonna go too well ...

Divine Intervention? Oh boy ... argh ... nuts ...

Fuck, FCG is about to ho full-blown BERSERK ...

Calm Emotions? Oh boy ... here we go ... oh thank fuck ... phew ...

Wow, Travis just made that SO FILTHY ... XD

Ouch ... rough landings all round ... argh ... but at least they're free ...

Yeah, those bird people are ARSEHOLES ...

Just CHILL OUT, robit! Thanks, FRIDA ...

Another Divine Intervention? Balls ... that was a shitshow ...

Ah, the rigours of having to sleep when you're not sleepy ...

Okay, camping for the night ...

Oh, so NOW we find out if FCG actually dreams ...

So ... is this NOT part if FCG's original programming, then? Hmmmmmm ...

Morning? Okay ... are they trying again? Oof ...

Just winging it, then ...

Sam: "I cast Command on her ... SUCCEED!!!"

55? Argh ... thump ... night time? Where are they NOW? Cobbles? Smoke? Jungle far below? Jrusar? Holy FUCK!!! I thought that was a CRAP roll?

Wow ... Ruidus really is LOCKED in place ... that is just CREEPY ... yeah, no shit folk are TENSE right now ...

The Smolder Spire ... okay ...

Trying Scry and Sending? Are you sure?

Wait, Deanna's spell is WORKING?!!! Crazy ...

Imogen hearing Laudna's okay and her reaction is PRICELESS, that is so adorable ...

Sending ... a D100? Crap ... 69, though ... XD

Soot and Swill? Good call. Do that next.

A diorama? That's adorable ...

So, no curfew, just tension ... okay ...

Here we go ... no messages? Hmmm ...

Pretty! Yay! :3 Awwwww, ogre hugs, I love that ...

Deanna tries to stealthily fix Pretty's PJs ... and gets busted! LOL ... "Ooh, it's almost PLEATED!!!" XD

FCG: "No, we just came to wake you up, sew your clothes and leave." Pretty: "... okay."

Oh yeah, the lost skyship ... that still hurts ...

Oh shit ... they could Scry on Ludinus? Hmmmmm ...

Oh yeah, people are CREEPED OUT right now by this Ruidus shit ...

Vasselheim is HERE?!!! Oh, that can't be good ...

Attempted queue jumping? Hmmmm ... I'm not sure this is gonna go well ...

A racoon dog? Awwwwwww ... how does Fearne KEEP DOING THIS to us? :3

Oh, so this is WORSE for Imogen than the gondolas? Great ...

Phew ... they made it despite Chetney getting that urge to jump ...

FRIDA freaking Deanna out by talking in HER head too ... XD

Heading for Spire By Fire ...

Big Katari? Hmmm ... DO WE know this guy? He's very friendly, I'll give him that ... ah ... it's a barracks now? Hmmmm ...

Oh, these troops are from ALL OVER THE PLACE ...

Imogen getting some air, looking at Ruidus ... it's still pulling at her a little bit ... a message? Hmmmmm ... not sure that's gonna work ... oof ... how bad is this roll? 2? On a D100? Oh my gods ...

Wait ... it actually WORKED?!!! I mean she didn't have a BLOODY CLUE, but still ...

Chetney trying to chat up the soldiers for some info ... XD

Fearne's STILL a raccoon dog ... :3 And she's being snoopy. Here we go ... begging for bacon. XD It worked! Now she's eavesdropping. General anxiety ... hmmmm ...

Imogen's not a big drinker ... makes sense ... wait ... is FRIDA trying to give her LOVE ADVICE?!!! And is FCG getting TOTALLY the wrong idea? XD

Wait, cliffhanger AND going to break? What? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!!!

We're back ... and I heard MARISHA LAUGH!!! Oooooooh ... NO!!! Bor'Dor WAS NOT a friend!

What the fuck is Prism doing? Aaaaah! Crap ... oh, this is gonna be a mad mess ... dear gods ... what?

Orym's trying a desperate save ... well, if ANYBODY can ... 18 Dex Save? Grabs her tush, but still ... yeah, that KINDA worked ...

So Prism kinda made a bit of a tit of herself bur it's mostly just adorable ...

Nice place ... and it IS a public place, at least ...

Ah yeah, Ruidus again ...

Starpoint Conservatory ... yeah, that's a smart call for Prism.

Ashton: "Yeah, the first trick is not TELLING people that you're lying."

Ah, more Beau-bashing, that's adorably meta ...

Prism has an EIGHT PACK of abs ... "Welcome to the library, bitch!" Oh my gods ...

Where to first? Breakfast ... yes. That's a good idea ... almost as if it's fated? XD

Wow! An actual WORKING gondola! Lucky ...

Ah yes, the tension again ... hmmmmm ...

Here we go ... and Laudna being creepy again ... XD

A "dirty little spell that old Prism would never have taken"? Friends? Okay ... sneaky ...

Oh yeah, the return of the survey ... LOL

Prism: "Can I send Mother after him?" Taliesin: "Just hound him to his grave." XD

ALL of Marisha's PCs have a beef with postal workers, it would seem ...

Oh yeah, the Lumas Twins! That was a while ago ...

Wow, Prism's planning on being a massive ninja geek of knowledge raiding the various houses of learning in Jrusar, isn't she?

To the Shadowfell? Orym: "Sure, if we're still here in two weeks ..."

Oh, so there's god soldiers going round again? Hmmmmm ... oh, the Changebringer? Okay ... no Green Seekers ...

Oh! Here we go! They're back! Oh, and now it's CHAOS as EVERYBODY'S trying to come to the table ... wow ... Holy fuck this is A LOT of people at the table right now. It's the end of Campaign 1 all over again ...

Imogen and Laudna INSTANTLY running over and hugging each other. Also Orym with Fearne ...

Greetings and meetings and ... wow, this is getting CRAZY ...

Fearne: "We had a threesome." O.O

Ah, comparing notes ... oh yes, the spectre of Bor'Dor rears its ugly head again ...

"Serving Bundt" ... yet more Sam's flask chaos ... he has surpassed himself ...

Retiring to the room ...

Yeah, there were good times and bad times in equal measure ... and now Laudna can summon undead ghost wolves from her ... orifices ...

Ah yes ... the Dawnfather incident ... yeah ... Deanna: "I'M GONNA GET SOME MORE DRINKS!!!"

Fearne (gasping): "THAT Deni$e?"

Prism: "IS Santa real?"

Ludinus' notes! Yes! Very handy ...

Chetney's extremely abbreviated account of what they went through ... meanwhile Orym's just fixating on FRIDA ...

Yes, she IS spooky beautiful. :3

Deanna finishes her Communion with her patron ... and Matt's phone goes off! Aabria: "MY IMMERSION!!!" LOL

Deanna: "One last question ... are you WORTH saving?" Ooooooh, DAMN!!!

Laudna and Deanna bonding over having both died at least once ... XD

Literary arsonist ... (snort)

23 nexuses? Hmmmmm ...

The alien, yeah ... FCG: "It's a round ring!" And now Fearne's trying to steal it from Ashton ... ah yes. Ashton: "I missed you so much."

Mother freaks FCG out and we're not surprised AT ALL ... and she shits on him! Of course ...

Discussing next moves ... hmmmm ...

Not that kind of seal, Chetney!

Ah, the talking book. Yeah. Dynios is YET ANOTHER weird revelation and I love it. XD

Yeah, that book is SASSY.

Imogen: "Are you a good book or a bad book?" Dynios: "I am a good book with a bad attitude."

Yes. They DID beat a Judicator ... with a Devil. It was crazy. Laudna: "It was A LOT."

Oh ... is Orym thinking about Deanna trying to Scry on Keyleth? O.O

Everybody's sitting forward ... of course they are ... I am too ...

Oh, the Dawnfather's being a bit petty right now, ain't he? Wow, she's scary right now when she's angry ...

Oh shit! There she is! It's Keyleth! She lives! She's definitely hurt, but ... she's alive!

That was INTENSE ...

She's home? In Zephrah? Cool ...

Oh, the hill. That living hill ... I forgot about that ... and the cougar ... XD

The Reilorans ... yeah ...

Ah yes, Dynios delivers a lecture about the githserai ...

Yeah, I don't think she has any actual connection with the Prism Emporium either, really ...

What, create their own Malleus Key to defeat Predathos? Hmmmmmm ...

Whoa ... FRIDA doesn't actually TRUST "One Punch" Grimpoppy?

Oh man ... FCG is just full-on torn between love and duty here ... that's HEAVY ...

Prism has NO IDEA if she's actually a danger to them or not ... that's kind of adorable and TOTALLY par for the course ...

I love that she seems to have read WAY more into her connection with Orym than anyone else has ...

FCG: "Do you smoke?" Prism: "Of course, I'm a student!"

FRIDA's just talking into various characters' heads ... Fearne: "Why is everybody being so quiet?"

Fearne can Scry now? Ooooooh ...

Prism does Imogen's accent ... :3

Oh, wait ... are we losing the new friends? Already? Man ... I mean we've had them for a while, but ... sad goodbyes ... I hope we see them again before too long MATTHEW!!!

Prism casts Enlarge on Orym ... "Wow! I'm 6 foot 6!" Immediately starts doing pull ups from the rafters ...

Oh man ... so this is it? Parting ways ... man! Not fun ... and that's that? Yeah, saw that coming ...

It was fun while it lasted ...

Thanks Aabria, thanks Christian, and thanks Emily, I hope you'll be back soon ...

[seth-burroughs]

for the ask game how about both seth and yomi?

MY BOYS >:))))))) THE BOYS

Seth:

favorite thing about them

I can't. fucking. The poncho that tricked me into believing he's a short king but he's like fucking 5'9. The glowy hood belts. How he looks like he's gonna keel over any minute. The bouquet. Him needing to use a megaphone since he just mumbles me too buddy I was pointing at the screen saying "me too buddy" when Yomi was being Yomi about his voice ME TOO BUDDY (it's fine I forgave him). Him taking bribes from the Nail Man because his boss told him to and how he saw nothing suspicious about it. Him ALSO trying to make a deal with the detectives when they get close to finding out. Him being a literal saint compared to all the other peacekeepers (what is wrong with them) and kiiiiiiiind of actually doing his job. His monocle. That shit eating smile. The green. Him existing in (and making) the best chapter in RC. Him getting hit with a helmet so hard he bleeds (guess by who). Him getting progressively less intimidating and more pathetic and cringefail with every scene he's in. The concerning Burroughs family loading screen trivia. Him being good at chess and liking wind instruments. Him hating untuned instruments. His birthday being in pride month. His winx enchantix form in the ML. Should I keep going

least favorite thing about them

How he appeared completely unannounced out of fucking nowhere to be the best character in the game in like 4 scenes total and they then just. hauled him off.

The disrespect is unbelievable I was in denial the whole game every chapter I was waiting for him to show up again. He's not even the only peacekeeper that shows up out of nowhere and then we never see them again, hello Swank Guillaume & Dominic. Dare I say MDA:RC should have been longer - not as in, more cases but like. More downtime between chapters to get to know the Guys more. Please

favorite line

"You need to get your watch repaired. Oh dear... the watchmaker is currently detained as a suspect. Just throw away that piece of trash then." you just KNOW he was so fucking satisfied with himself after that he was giggling internally the whole time. What if I killed him

brOTP

Seth & Guillaume nominated for Kanai Ward's most toxic friendship. I hope you die I hope we both die (platonic)

OTP

Seth x therapy and a different job best ship

nOTP

Seth/Yakou I just don't vibe 😔

random headcanon

Most polish man in Kanai Ward he pickles fucking everything. Goes mushroom picking every autumn and dries all the boletes and boletuses to use for pierogi filling. Always makes his own pierogi store bought are disgusting. Puts atrocious amounts of frozen dill on all his surówkas and mashed potatoes. Cucumber soup enjoyer. All of these are about food. I love food I wish I could eat it

unpopular opinion

Don't have any. I agree with mostly everything they're are saying about him here I approve of the RC tumblr community Seth opinions👍👍

song i associate with them

Hmmmmm.......... Sometimes by Nick Lutsko - You see with Yomi I could make an entire playlist, but there is literally only 1 song in the whole world (that isn't like. an instrumental lmao) that reminds me of Seth. My music taste is fucking Sethless.

favorite picture of them

I don't care what the masses say his phantom fucking slayed. People are being so cruel to him fr calling him cabbage head. I mean they're right but

Yomi:

favorite thing about them

How he's so terrible and evil and so fucking sexy about it. Every single time he appears on screen gets a fake zilch zombie esque response from me

least favorite thing about them

I legitimately cannot think of a single bad thing about Yomi

favorite line

I have three!

1. "That's even more impossible than a chance meeting between an umbrella and a sewing machine on an operating table!" what is wrong with him.

2. Not a single line but like. The conversation he had with Yuma when they were alone for a few minutes after we talked to Huesca where Yuma just tries to break the awkward silence with "umm" and Yomi just hits him with the "WHY DO YOU EXIST. WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE"

3. [after Makoto says he has a duty to watch over Amaterasu and Kanai Ward as a whole] "... What? What have you ever done for Kanai Ward? All you do is look down on it from high. The peaceful order you see when you gave upon it is thanks to my righteous justice. I'm the one guiding these lazy fools! I brought civilization to this place! I don't need you messing with the proper order of my city!" :]] I'll leave it without comment go make up your own mind about it~~

brOTP

Him and Fake Zilch. Not because I see them as platonic but because Fake Zilch was like... literally the only bro option that exists for him lmao

OTP

How dare you make me choose between Fake Zilch, Makoto & Yuma

nOTP

Yomi x Martina. I remember when he got introduced and right after he sent Seth to the electric chair, spat on Yakou then left I thought to myself "well at least he's a big wife guy" hoo boy.

random headcanon

Has two beds in his apartment. One shaped like a cool racecar where he has sex with Martina, and one three days grace themed four story bed where he has sex with everyone else. He doesn't sleep in either of them because rest is for soyboys and omegas. Speaking of omegas h- *audio cuts off*

unpopular opinion

Yomi haters are WEAK as FUCK Also he should be allowed to do whatever he wants actually I cheered and clapped when he hit Vivia right on the face with his whip you and me both Yomi you and me both.

song i associate with them

I have an entire playlist for that lmao so I'll limit myself to five: Dear Dictator by Saint Motel, Autotheist by Baby Bugs, Digital Silence by Peter McPoland + The Reason They Hate Me by Daughters. If we're talking about his relationship to Makoto then Want by Recoil and Men by The Dodos are PEAK makoyomi I beg you to listen to them. Pleas e

favorite picture of them

Sigh *pulls out the Yomi folder and starts picking them out extremely carefully*

[ampleappleamble]

Well!

After like 30 straight hours of trying to soften and dilate my cervix so I can give birth, I ended up having to get a C-section anyway, because of course I did!

(Warning: uncomfortable medical situations described in some detail under the cut)

And my dudes, that shit was wild.

We had just ordered some food, I was getting carefully repositioned in my hospital bed to encourage the baby to straighten out so he could come out crown first and not chin first, and then... the monitor does some beeps. My nurse looks at the monitors the way a well-trained German shepherd looks at a burglar, and calls in another nurse. Baby's heart rate is rapidly falling. Why? No time for questions, get into this other position to see if it'll unfuck baby's heart rate. Like four more nurses come in and help me get on my hands and knees. It's not working.

Call the doctor.

Doctor comes in and she says, "Aw, dude. I'm sorry. You were doing so good. You were holding up well, your contractions were regular and strong, you took every setback like a champ. But... you've been dilated at 5cm for like, forever. We need you open at 10cm to have a fighting chance of getting him outta there naturally. And now his heart rate is getting all scary! I hate to say it, but... we should probably do a C-section."

In doctor speak, this means: we should definitely do a C-section. Like, right now.

A nurse had the consent to treat form ready for me to sign before the doctor even started talking. I signed it, and events proceeded quickly. Spirited away to the OR, they strap me down, numb me up, and get to work. My partner is with me, trying to soothe me while adrenaline and anesthesia make my whole upper half shake and my teeth chatter wildly. I don't feel any pain at all, but a lot of very odd sensations of pushing, pulling, tugging, pressing, all on my abdomen and what's inside it. It's very, very disconcerting and uncomfortable.

When we hear our son cry, my partner and I start crying too. That's him.

That's our son.

He's whisked away to the NICU to monitor him and help improve his breathing, and as per my request, my spouse accompanies him while I remain behind and get stitched up, a process that seems to take at least twice as long as cutting me did. While lying there trying to dissociate, I feel a very familiar and horrible sensation: thin, watery saliva rapidly pooling up in my mouth.

"You okay there?" my doctor asks. She had just finished up a phone call from another doctor, on speakerphone, while she was still working on me, regarding a patient of his with a possible ectopic pregnancy. Badass.

"I... may vomit," I manage to reply, looking around me and trying to decide whether it would be less troublesome to the OR staff for me to puke over the right side of my operating table or the left.

"You're feeling like you might throw up?" she asks, still working on me like the absolute boss she is.

"Yes," I reply, deciding that the left side would probably be better to barf over owing to the IV stands on that side probably being easier to clean than the sophisticated surgical machinery to my right.

And... that's apparently the end of that conversation? My doctor says nothing more on the matter, and I do not end up vomiting.

Anyway, they finally, mercifully finish sewing me up and they wheel me off to my recovery room, where I learn that my newborn son weighs 5 pounds and 10 ounces and is 19 inches long. My... son. My baby boy. The dude who's been living inside my body for the past 37 weeks, the guy I made. My son. My partner is still with him, and according to all the nurses' reports, he is utterly enamored. Can't take his eyes off of him, can't stop holding onto his little hands, his tiny feet. The NICU staff instruct him not to stroke baby's back like one might a cat or dog because that will overstimulate him; instead, gently lay a hand in the middle of his back and keep it there, still. He does, and then whenever he tries to take his hand away, our son fusses and whines in protest. He sends me pictures of our baby, wrinkly and wet-looking and cone-headed, squinting into the big, bright, new world he's found himself in, and clutching my husband's finger in one tiny, chubby hand.

I cannot go see my little dude in person just yet because I need to fully regain feeling in my legs and feet so I can safely get myself into a wheelchair. Outside, near the river, someone sets off a bunch of fireworks, one after another after another, for seemingly no reason. People do this sometimes where I live, just fire off Roman candles and bottle rockets by the riverbank downtown on a Thursday evening for no real reason I can determine.

I decide they're celebrating my son's birthday, of course.