#that still doesn't explain this but nevermind

[sturniqlo]

Spilled Water- M.S

summary: where pregnant!reader films a video with the triplets and her water breaks and matt is freaking out. BLURB

cw: cursing, panicking(?)

an: lowercase intended

masterlist | join my taglist

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"no! the cooking oil! that's y/n's coconut oil!" nick, wearing a chef hat and a white apron, snatches the small mason jar from chris' hands. "what is my coconut oil even doing here?" y/n waddles to nick to grab it. "i went to grab it from your bathroom, i thought nick had said coconut oil." chris explains.

"how'd you hear- nevermind." nick sighs and returns to the mixing bowl. "i don't know where their stuff is!" both nick and chris had came over to matt and y/n's apartment as y/n was nearing the end of her pregnancy and matt didn't want her to be alone in case she went into labor.

"the oil is in the kitchen, genius." matt says, and turns to the cabinet where the oil sits behind. "okay, guys, today we are making a cake from scratch!" nick holds up the empty mixing bowl and talks to the camera. "usually we bake boxed cakes, so we decided to switch it up for todays video. and don't worry, we have the expert here, y/n!" she shyly waves to the camera.

she's been in a couple of their videos and the fans adored her. "guys, y/n makes these really good chocolate croissants, but the boss man nick wanted a fucking cake." chris crosses his arms. "hey, what's wrong with cake? we," y/n points to her face and her swollen belly. "also wanted cake." matt laughs. "thank you, y/n and baby. see, chris, i'm not the only one who wanted cake."

"alright, enough about who wanted cake. let's get this show on the road." matt drapes his arm around his pregnant girlfriends shoulders. "okay, chris, pour in two cups of flour." nick reads off of his phone. "where are the measuring cups?" chris looks around. "ugh! motherfucker look around!"

"don't be mean to chris." y/n walks away from matt's hold and opens the drawer to grab the measuring cups. "thank you-" chris starts off. "it's not our fault he's a little bit different." y/n breaks out into a laugh and nick and matt follow her. "okay, okay stop it! i think i peed a little. she's pressing on my bladder."

"alright now that we have all of our dry ingredients mixed together, we're going to add in our wet ingredients." matt says. "how many cups of water do we need?" y/n asks, a bit in discomfort. she's been having a bit of braxton hicks lately, but her doctor said to not worry. however, these were a bit different but, she didn't really pay too much attention to it.

nick tells her how much and she walks towards the sink and pours it. as she walks back nick gasps. "y/n, you spilled the water on yourself." he points to her stained grey sweatpants. "what? no i didn't, look." she holds up the cup that holds the water.

"babe, your water broke!" matt says with widened eyes. "oh my god!" she sets down the cup on the counter and looks down, sure enough her water did break. "i- i don't know how i didn't feel it." she giggles. "chris go- go grab the baby bag it's in the- in the- fuck- the closet by the uh- the door." matt stumbles over his words. chris doesn't do anything but nod and hurry off to get the bag.

"oh my gosh, she's coming? like now?" nick says, y/n laughs as she can't take him seriously with the chef hat on. "y/n, come on, we need to take you to the hospital!" matt places a hand on the small of her back and leads her to the door.

"matt, baby, wait. i need to change my pants." she turns and walks into their shared room. "what? no, you're fine like this! you're in labor." matt says, running a hand through his hair. "hey, calm down, okay." y/n reassures him and holds his face in her hands. "i'm feeling fine as of now, i think we still have some time until i start getting contractions."

"okay, are- are you sure?" she nods. "i'm sure."

"oh!" y/n shrieks, putting a hand on her back as she stands in front of the bathroom counter. she was brushing her hair until she got her very first contraction. "matt, get the car ready!" she take a deep breath and tries to ignore the pain. "come on, come on! chris has the bag, is it okay if they come?"

"i don't care if- fuck." she gets a strong one. "it's okay, you're okay." he kisses her forehead and walks her out the room. "chris lock the door. her keys are on the table." matt tells chris as nick now holds her and walks her out the door. "how are you feeling?" nick says. "like im about to give birth."

"wait! what about the cake?" chris says.

[killerpancakeburger]

Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.

Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.

When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.

She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.

"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"

You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"

Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.

A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.

"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.

It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.

You frown, unconvinced by his answer.

“Did Soap contaminate you?”

Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.

“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”

A smirk stretches your lips.

“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”

“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”

He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.

You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.

“What you wanted? A still open wound?”

“You.”

He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.

“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”

You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.

“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”

You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.

Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.

“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.

“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”

He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.

“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”

“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”

You raise an amused eyebrow.

“What kind of price?”

“A kiss.”

You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.

“With the mask on?”

He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.

“Take it off.”

You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.

You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.

“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.

Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.

He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.

Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.

Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.

"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.

"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.

A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."

"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.

"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"

"Well, because he's your family."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."

"That's different!"

"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.

"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."

"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"

"Yes!"

"But why?" Eddie presses.

"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"

"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."

"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."

Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.

"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."

"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."

"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."

Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.

"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."

"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"

"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.

Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.

He's got some thinking to do.

[realcube]

ASKING THEM TO CHOOSE A BATHING SUIT FOR YOU

characters ♡ (all aged up) midoriya, todoroki, kirishima & kaminari

request for ♡ anon

tws ♡ implied sexual content - minors dni!

IZUKU MIDORIYA

♡ so flustered by the request

♡ no matter the circumstances

♡ like y'all could be going out for a couple weeks or you could be married for ten years with children, homie still doesn't know how to act

♡ and he is so apprehensive to ask why you want him to pick it out for you because on one hand he's curious about the implications and wants to explore that further but the LAST thing he wants is too ask too many questions for you to then turn around and be like "you know what, nevermind. i'll just buy it myself."

♡ so he will try to get information out of you covertly

♡ "well i think you'd look great in anything.. maybe something floral. unless you are dressing for a specfic occasion?????? 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨"

♡ "you know i like the red one you have. you should wear that if i get to see you in it 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨"

♡ "oh you like the orange one? ... orange like the colours of pro hero dynamight ? 🤨🤨🤨🤨"

♡ he somehow manages to spiral and come to the conclusion you are having an affair

♡ but then he remembers he's with the most faithful partner in the world and moves on

♡ he also so believes that this is like.. a relationship milestone

♡ like "omg we are dressing each other now ow 🤪"

♡ if it turns out y'all are going to the beach or pool or something he will ask you to choose his bathing suit too

♡ but yeah he just thinks its so sweet you let him choose what you wear and he gets a strange (temporary) power trip from it

♡ whenever you get changed next he'll silently be praying you let him pick your outfit for you

♡ the power trip doesn't last long though because when he actually has to pick the outfit he is lowkey kinda nervous especially if you are gonna wear it out in public

♡ he is so afraid of making the 'wrong' choice

♡ like he doesn't want to be held responsible if you go out in a ugly fit and people give you funny looks

♡ overthinks asf

♡ it takes him like 10 minutes of pinterest surfing and coordinating to decide and eventually he goes with the same bathing suit you wear almost every time

♡ if you guys are staying indoors though, he is too respectful to say it aloud so he simply blabbers on for ages in hopes you get the hint

♡ "uh well i mean me personally i just don't see the point of going to all the effort to put on a whole new bathing suit after taking your clothes off if it's just going to get wet anyway i mean it's just a waste of washing machine power, pro hero wash doesn't risk his life everyday for people to just throw things in the laundry when they don't need to , right —"

♡ there's more

♡ like he goes on for ages but you pick up what he trying to say after two sentences

♡ and you give the man what he wants 🤷‍♀️

SHOTO TODOROKI

♡ so confused

♡ like he is genuinely baffled; he just doesn't understand why you would want him to choose for you and why, out of all the outfits you wear, it's your swimwear you want him to pick

♡ he is going to ask a million questions before he even tries and i wear he's not doing it to be difficult or defiant , he is just so incredibly curious and WANTS to know what thought process led you to entrusting him with your ootd

♡ you explain that it's just a cute thing you wanted to try, so you could see what colours and designs he prefers on you

♡ he still doesn't fully get it because he's made it inexplicably clear by now that he loves the way you look in virtually anything — you could have rolled up to your wedding in crocs and he would've still been completely enamoured. in fact he'd fall for you even harder for making practical footwear choices.

♡ (not that he's a fan of holes in shoes , he thinks it defeats the purpose. but he'd find something positive about them if you were to wear them)

♡ but after being with you for so long and being a pro hero in an evolving society , he has learned to be open-minded and entertains your idea

♡ he is naturally quite stylish , so it likely goes into your wardrobe and picks something very understated and minimalistic

♡ anything you own that happens to all be one colour; a boring colour too like beige, grey or off-white

♡ even if it happens to be a skimpy piece he truly pays no mind to it, he's more focussed on the design and colour (or lack thereof)

♡ so likely he'll end up handing you a two-piece that is essentially just two pieces of thread on a hanger , and of course you will think there are implications behind that and start eyeing him 👀

♡ but having been married to him for x years, you recognise the blank expression he wears when there is not a thought in his head and you quickly realise that he wasn't suggesting anything by handing you such a provocative outfit

♡ he just likes the colour and fabric lol

♡ "it will really bring out your eyes"

♡ (doesn't know what that means; heard someone say it on tv once and now it's his go-to fashion compliment) (what he really means is "fashion fashion style bags purse clothes purse")

♡ it's only when you actually put it on and show him when he realises what he has done lmao

♡ standing there and staring at you like 🙂 "cute. where's the rest of it?"

♡ it looked a lot bigger when he was holding it and he didn't take into consideration how it stretches

♡ tries to subtly get you to change without admitting its revealing

♡ "very pretty. but i heard jean shorts are in season, why not try those?"

♡ "oh— is that a loose thread? hmph. i think you'll have to throw bathing suit away since it's ruined."

♡ "it's nice but i doesn't bring out your eyes like i originally thought. more so your chin."

♡ tbh he does not want to even admit to himself he has a problem with you wearing revealing clothes because there is no rational reason as to why he should have an issue with it but he just does and it hurts his brain

♡ even if other guys are checking you out that shouldn't matter bc he knows you're loyal and would never cheat so WHY does the thought make him want to freeze an entire city ???

♡ anyway you can tell just by looking at him that he's conflicted and fighting internal battles so you put him out of his misery by just changing into a different one

♡ (after that chin comment tho , he did NOT deserve your compassion 😞)

♡ once he has successfully styled you into a cute outfit he feels so proud of himself lk??

♡ also he still has a hard time understanding why you wanted him to pick your bathing suit 'just because' so in his head he rationalises that dressing each other is just something all long-term couples do and you guys have reached a relationship milestone

♡ similar to izuku except todoroki takes it WAY more seriously

♡ like randomly when he is getting ready, he'll ask you to pick the tie he is going to wear or even his shirt

♡ and if he is getting ready in the morning and you're not awake yet , he will literally make you help him plan his outfit the night before

♡ even for super formal pro hero related events where he is likely being styled by professionals, he will ask you to choose his cufflinks or belt or something like that

♡ just so he has a piece of you on him at all times ( besides his wedding band ofc 🤪)

♡ and yeah this isn't a temporary thing either. unless you ask him to stop, he will be asking you for your input on his clothing for the forseeable future

♡ he'll even start asking other people ( who he knows are married ) stuff like "what did your wife choose on your outfit?" or "oh nice watch, did your husband pick it out for you?" and he gets weird looks every time

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

♡ he's probably the most normal about it

♡ like he doesn't see it as any sort of test so he isn't nervous or confused

♡ and he is able to aknowledge that it is only an outfit for one day so even if it isn't his best work, at least he tried ??

♡ but yeah he thinks it's sooo cute that you want him to pick your bath suit , makes him feel like he's putting his own mark on you (in a wholesome way) and he finally gets to dress you in his favourite colour

♡ RED!!!

♡ if you don't have any red swimwear he will fr go out and buy you some because that is all he wants to see you in lol and he would LOVE to match with you

♡ red bikini + red truncks combo question mark

♡ if you don't own any red or you don't want to match with him , he'll probably choose a top and bottom from two different sets and pair them together and think he is some sort of style icon for pairing neon pink and sage green but in reality it such a crime against fashion

♡ but you wear it anyway just to see the big dumb smile of his face when you walk out wearing his "creation"

♡ oh and be warned that after you let him style you once he is going to be obsessed with giving his input on your outfits for at least the next six months or until you tell him to stop

♡ it'll be like "kiri, i'm gonna wear this white blouse to the dinner tomororw. does it look better with these black trousers or this brown skirt?"

♡ you'll show him the two options and he'll STILL reply, "hm, have you considered jorts ?"

DENKI KAMINARI

♡ wants to be nonchalant about it sooo bad but is internally screaming dancing and doing backflips

♡ like he is THIS close to blowing a fuse when you ask him

♡ and like you've been married to him for this long so you knew it would drive him crazy and that is exactly what you wanted mwahaha

♡ yeah he tries to play this off casually like a cool , reserved guy who couldn't care less

♡ but we both know that is NOT who he is , in fact that is the furtherest thing away from what he is in this moment

♡ "i- i get to choose?" he stammers, pointing at himself before he clears his throat. plastering a confident grin on his face, "yeah, duh. i'm your husband of course i'm going to choose what bathing suit you wear."

♡ pro hero chargebolt recently saved a politican from a very life threatening fajita incident so naturally your household has come into a lot of money and thus had a pool built in your back garden so he assumed you wanted to take it for a test run

♡ you've both been so busy with work that the pool has been finished for over a week and neither of you have tried it out yet

♡ so he saunters over to the warbrode and shoves his arm in and rummages around

♡ less like he is sifting through clothes; more like he is pulling out a prize from that mystery bag filled with random treasures at the carnival

♡ after a couple seconds of searching, his face lights up as though he has found the perfect outfit for you

♡ he pulls out his arm; lo and behold he has his hand in the air with his fist wrapped around... nothing

♡ literally nothing

♡ he still looks at the air where a bathing suit SHOULD be with wide eyes and an impossible grin, "this would look great on you !! you've not worn it in so long. try it on!!"

♡ he throws it towards you and of course you 'catch it' despite there being nothing there because you are plenty familiar with his antics and have learned by now exactly how to deal with them

♡ you 'hold it' in your hands and nod along, "yes! i forgot about this old thing. i'll go put it on right now." you muse, walking out and towards the bathroom, "i'm sure the dads at the beach will love this one."

♡ denki nods confidently, chuffed with how awesome and fly he is .. until he caught that last part

♡ "(Y/N) WAIT !!!"

[jo-harrington]

Strawberry Shortcake (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Meet Cute (ish), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Medical-Related Talk/Hospitals (Nothing Graphic), Food/Eating

Note: Having a bad day on top of a bad week on top of a bad whatever. My uncle was in the hospital unexpectedly; he’s home now but that hospital in particular is one that doesn’t hold a lot of great memories. (Which ones do?) It's fine, but here we are throwing Eddie into the pot to make things a little easier. If only he was there to have strawberry shortcake with me.

Tagging @deathbecomesthem at their request. Thanks for always being there Than.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie stared deeply into the cooler, as though he'd find the meaning of life between cups of half-rotten grapes and soggy egg salad sandwiches.

Foods like this...well, they were old friends--too many gas station stops and midnight runs to 7-11s in his life--but for some reason this felt like the hardest decision of his life.

Actually, he'd like something hot for dinner, and the food here actually wasn’t that bad, if he remembered the last time he found himself haunting the halls of Roane County Memorial Hospital. But the cafeteria line is closed. So he'd have to settle for premade sandwiches and salads because he wasn't going to venture outside anytime soon.

His nerves would eat him before he could eat anything if he left.

"The PB&J is pretty good," a gentle voice startled him and an arm crossed in front of him to grab the aforementioned sandwich.

PB&J Crunch - Grape Jelly

"I don't like crunchy peanut butter," he dismissed, trying not to sound as hollow as he felt.

"It's not crunchy peanut butter," you explained and then squinted down at the label. "It's got granola in it or something. It's pretty good, I promise."

He considered it for a second, wondered if his current mental state will tolerate bits in his sandwich, but then he realized he was too tired to care. He just needed to eat something.

He grabbed a sandwich and then a soda from the bottom of the cooler, and he was about to head over to the tired cashier when you asked, "do you like Strawberry Shortcake?"

He paused and looked at you.

Really looked at you, looking back at him with kind and understanding eyes, a small smile on your lips.

There was something else there too. Weariness. That was an old friend too, to both of you it seemed. But where his hung off him like some insidious creature clinging to his back, you wore it as well as you wear your Jurassic Park t-shirt and ripped jeans.

It was worn in and comfortable. You're used to it. He could tell.

And still you're trying to be nice to him.

The least he could do was accept your kindness, even if he couldn’t offer anything back.

"Isn't the sandwich sweet enough?" he asked.

"You look like someone who has a sweet tooth. Besides, if you..." you bit your lip for a second in contemplation, then shook your head. "Nevermind. It's my treat."

"Thank you."

You grabbed two little plastic cake containers from the cooler and then followed him to the cashier. Once you handed the cake to him, he in turn followed you to a table in the corner of the cafeteria.

He felt a little pathetic, following like a little lost duckling, and although he wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, he didn't want to be alone.

Thankfully, you seemed to know exactly what he felt in that moment, and you remained silent as wrappers were peeled open and bites were taken from your respective PB&Js.

You were right about the sandwich, it was pretty good. Reminded him of the sandwiches his mom made for his lunches.

He said goodbye to peanut butter and jelly after his mom spent time in this very hospital.

He said goodbye to his...shit, what didn't he say goodbye to after his own lengthy stay back in '86?

And now?

What would he say goodbye to now?

"Growing up doesn't always mean saying goodbye to things," Wayne told him once, oh so long ago, when they stood side by side at the counter spreading mustard and layering cold cuts onto thin slices of sandwich bread. "But it means they get a little fonder when you make your way back to them."

He's grateful for the peanut butter sticking to the roof of his mouth so he'd have something to focus on instead of the sting of tears in his eyes.

"You know," you finally broke the silence as you set your own sandwich down to take a sip of your soda. "This is what I eat every time I find myself here."

"You find yourself here a lot?"

He laughed as soon as the words left his mouth; not an amused laugh, almost a self-deprecating one. It sounded a lot more flirty than he intended it too, especially given the circumstances, and he felt like an idiot.

You did him a favor as you ignored him, and instead gestured to the food.

"PB&J, Strawberry Shortcake, Dr. Pepper. My mom had this...I don't even know if you'd call it a heart attack...a few years ago. I stayed with her the whole time she was here recovering; couldn't stop crying that first night, which of course made everything better.

"The nurses kicked me out at some point. Sent me down here to get some food. And the only thing that looked good was the Strawberry Shortcake. It was the only thing I ate until she got to go home. Just. Mountains of Strawberry Shortcake."

You broke open the seal on your cake, then did the same for his, talking as your hands kept busy and even as you took your first bite.

"It's what she makes me for my birthday every year," you finished through the mouthful of cake, "and this one almost tastes as good as hers does. Almost. But it's something I can control when everything else feels like it's falling apart."

You stared at him pointedly and then glanced down at his slice of cake.

Eddie stared at the cake-- at the layers of fluffy yellow sponge and swirling whipped cream and dense, gooey strawberries--and considered your words.

Control. Yeah he could use a little bit of that right now.

He picked up the fork and severed the soft corner, then shoved it into his mouth.

It was an assault of the senses, the unlocking of a memory that didn’t even feel like it was his. A store bought birthday cake that he and Wayne had gotten for his mom for the first birthday she had after his dad got sent away. She said it was the best cake she ever tasted, and he and Wayne both agreed.

This seemed like it would be a close second.

“My uncle,” he began, voice thick with emotion and whipped cream. “He had an accident at work. I live in Indy. Not too far but far enough that he didn’t have me as an emergency contact. Called him to tell him something I heard about the Colts. That old bastard…he always picks up the phone when he’s home. Always. But he didn’t this time.

“Figured maybe he picked up an extra shift or something. He gets bored. ‘Specially when I’m not around. But he didn’t answer for a few days and when I called the plant, they said he was here.”

The rest felt like a blur.

Driving out to Hawkins, seeing Wayne in that bed, talking to the doctors. Words like pain management, skin grafts, and physical therapy struck something inside of him that he’d worked tirelessly to forget for himself. Emotional scars were as thick as the physical ones.

Now the wounds had all reopened because of his uncle. More, actually, because he finally realized what Wayne must’ve felt all those years ago seeing him in a hospital bed.

How close he came to losing the only family he had.

“Hey I’m sorry.” Eddie startled as you reached a hand out to touch his arm, as tears escaped the corner of his eyes. “It’s ok, everything will be alright.”

“I know,” he nodded and sniffed, a little embarrassed to be crying in front of a stranger but you really weren’t a stranger. He laid his free hand on yours for a second, heavy as he felt the warmth and weight of you.

Were you a stranger? He considered it. He might not have known your name, but he knew you well. You were here, weary and waiting, just like he was.

“You know, he woke up when I walked in,” Eddie choked a laugh as he continued. “Said what took you so long when he saw me. Then he complained about the bed being uncomfortable.”

“That’s how you’ll know he’ll be alright,” you laughed right along with him.

The two of you finished your dinners, moving onto some lighter topics—the usual getting-to-know-you’s that you did when you met someone new—and once the cashier came to tell you they were about to close up, you got to your feet to head back to your respective family members.

“Thank you,” Eddie told you as you meandered out. “I don’t…it’s…”

“I get it,” you replied with a small smile. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m sure I’ll be around for a few more days until mom goes home again. Just hang around the cafeteria until I materialize.”

There was a weird pause, awkward as neither of you new how to part ways. Eddie attempted a handshake, but you pulled him into a hug instead. Once again, knowing what it was he needed.

He melted into you gratefully.

And he whispered into your shoulder, “The strawberry shortcake will be on me next time.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 4

Part 3

"And you said yes?", Robin said, her voice impressively even.

"I did", Steve said, phone on speaker as he got ready for work. "I figure, if he's going to have a sugar baby, might as well be me, right? I think this is the universe giving me a break."

"Okay, yeah, sure, until he takes you out and gets you involved in like drugs or something, or takes his anger out on you when he doesn't win a Grammy or something. Or worse, you're a mistress and his actual spouse comes for revenge. OR you actually get really involved with him, help him get even more famous, have very talented children, but then his drug running gets you arrested and when you get out of jail he acts like he doesn't know you and estranges your children!"

Steve paused in putting on his shoes, grinning. "You've been watching Empire."

"Terrence did Taraji so dirty Steve."

"But not enough to learn their characters' names. I need you to catch up so we can watch season 2 together." It hurt being away from her. Before, whenever one of them started obsessing over a show, they could literally sit down and put aside one of their days off to binge a bunch of episodes.

"Sorry, let's get back to you dating a rockstar? Steve? Steve."

"We're not dating. He's just gonna text me whenever he wants to fuck. That's it. He might buy me something nice from time to time." Steve grabbed his keys and went out the door, nearly stepping on something left on the floor in front of it.

"Okay, yeah, sure, but isn't this the reason you cut your parents out? Did they want this exact life for you?", Robin asked.

"No, this is totally different. For one thing, Eddie doesn't want commitment. He doesn't want kids out of me. And even if I attend events with him, I'm just arm candy, but you know, in a good way."

"There's a bad way to be arm candy?"

Steve thought back to the functions he had to go to when still under his parents' thumb. There was definitely a bad way to hang off someone's arm like a decoration. He looked to the little box in his hand. No note, but it had clearly been placed in front of his apartment.

He opened it and found an expensive looking watching inside. The face was a cool navy blue color. He didn't need a card to know who it was from.

"Eddie's different from the guys my parents wanted", Steve said. "And when it's over, I'll at least have something to show for it."

"Just don't be stupid about this, dingus. If this goes sideways, I won't be close by to save your ass."

"Noted", Steve said as he closed the box and continued on his way to work.

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

The next time Eddie texted him, it was to go to lunch. It was a more casual setting than before, but still a pretty high end sushi restaurant.

"I must admit, I called you here under false pretenses, Steve", Eddie said as they sat in a booth.

Steve smiled at his serious tone. "I gathered, given our whole arrangement." Being taken out somewhere was typically a prelude for something intimate later, even in a normal relationship. When Eddie asked him out, Steve full expected sex. He wasn't complaining, last time had been very nice. He wondered how long until Eddie sent a simple 'u up?' booty call.

"I have to attend some fancy lunch meeting in a couple days and they're taking us to a sushi place", Eddie started to explain. "Problem is, I hate sushi."

"...Did you...are we here to train your taste buds or something?", Steve asked.

Eddie nodded. "These are some pretty important people and I can't sit there and tell them my favorite fish is whatever they use for fish sticks."

"Pretty sure it's cod."

"What? Nevermind. I just need to get one of everything and force myself to acquire a taste for it", Eddie said, eyes narrowing in focus at the menu.

Steve smiled. It was cute how serious he was being. He thought back to previous gatherings when some alpha would try and force a drink on him or when the hors d'oeuvres being served weren't to his liking.

"Want some advice?", he offered, continuing when Eddie nodded with his big Bambi eyes, "Instead of forcing yourself to like something, you should be able to say why you don't like something."

"Sounds like complaining", Eddie said, putting the menu down.

"No, you sound cultured", Steve clarified. "Watch." He cleared his throat and held up his glass of water. "Thank you for offering, but I only drink water from a natural spring. I prefer Canadian or Icelandic, but I'll take Swedish if you have it. Nothing from Switzerland though, it has this horrid mineral after taste to it." He set the glass down, adjusting under Eddie's wide eyed gaze.

"I don't know if that was bullshit or not but it sounded legit."

"It's legit what some girl said at a party once. I've never sourced where my water came from, but it works for just about anything. If you can articulate why you don't like something, it comes off better than just saying you don't like it."

"What kind of parties did you go to?", Eddie smirked.

Steve shrunk a little. "Just, you know, parties. So what's your experience with sushi?"

"Supermarket stuff", Eddie said simply.

"....You're kidding. How long have you been a rockstar?"

"I didn't realize this was an interview."

Steve tapped the table as he considered something. He looked to the other part of the restaurant. The bar where chefs were preparing the food. He almost asked Eddie a question directly, but remembered his role as a sugar baby. It wasn't his job to ask how much something would cost or even to ask Eddie to spend the money. All he needed to do was ask for what he wanted.

So he moved over to Eddie's side of the booth and leaned in close to his space. "I think you need something a little more...fresh."

"Fresh?", Eddie echoed as Steve led him to stand.

"And flavorful."

"Uh-huh."

"And satisfying", Steve whispered the last part before sitting down at the bar.

Eddie didn't know when Steve got him here but he did and he ordered something called 'omakase' and suddenly the chef's hands got really busy. He put a little filet of something on rice and then took a blow torch to it.

"I didn't know you could cook the fish..."

It was placed in front of him, but Eddie was still skeptical, which Steve noticed.

"'Omakase' means you're trusting the chef to pick out the best for you", he said. Then Steve took his chopsticks and picked up his piece. He ate it in one bite and Eddie subconsciously swallowed as he watched it pass his beautiful lips and then slide down that gorgeous throat. He wasn't even eating sexily, that was just how far gone he was.

Then Steve picked up Eddie's piece and held it to his lips. Eddie didn't even hesitate to open up and let it in. Tender rice, delicate fish, a total opposite to the sushi he'd experienced before. And it didn't stop there. The chef served cut after cut and each time, Steve asked him what he liked or didn't like.

Eddie was no slouch when it came to language. So he was able to come up with that on his own. He had just never considered respectfully refusing food and to do so with a haughty air deserving of a celebrity.

"Mmm, great choice on the shrimp", Eddie praised the chef. "Texture is superb. Sweet on the tongue too. Nice one, Tatsuro-san."

"Better than the crab?", Steve asked.

"I'm sorry, but nothin' beats an old fashioned crab boil for me. It's the only way I can eat crab."

"You've got opinions and you know how to voice them. I never imagined that be an issue for you, but I think you're ready now."

"Oh I've got opinions out the wazoo. I was just taught to never complain about food."

"Good boy", Tatsuro commented as he prepared something else.

"Very good", Steve agreed as an oyster on a half shell was put in front of him and Eddie.

Tatsuro winked at Eddie and he tried not to think about it as they finished up the course. He was absolutely not thinking about how oysters were an aphrodisiac, or how he'd had a great time, or how this felt like a date and not an outing with a hot piece. He wasn't doing a good job of being a sugar daddy, was he?

Time to fix that up right away. He paid for the meal, leaving a generous tip and led Steve out the restaurant, arm around his waist.

"You were extremely helpful. I can honestly say I like sushi now", he beamed. "And I think excellent service deserves a reward."

"You gonna give me a tip too?", Steve teased. And there was certainly a tip Eddie wanted to give him. Really the whole thing, but he had another idea in mind. And thankfully the appropriate place wasn't too far from here.

"You're buying me a suit?", Steve realized as they walked into a tailor's.

"I've got an eye for these kind of things. And you need something to match your new watch", Eddie said. He had a feeling Steve knew what to do, so he let him free.

Steve gave him a look and Eddie made a 'go on' motion. So Steve went, picking out different pieces for himself to assemble a new suit. There was a man awaiting any need of assistance and did so once Steve came out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirrors.

Eddie was sitting before him, watching as Steve appraised his reflection and the tailor took some of his measurements. The suit was in silver, with a black shirt underneath. He finished of the look with a dark blue handkerchief in the chest pocket. It already looked great. Eddie knew he'd be breathtaking once it was bespoke. He ached to put his hands on him but public decency kept him from doing so.

"You look good enough to show off", Eddie praised.

"You look like you have somewhere in mind", Steve said, looking at the other man through the mirror.

"There's a shindig goin' down that I wouldn't mind having a date to."

Eddie put in the order for the suit to be done the day before the event. "Let's head back to my place."

This time, as they traveled, Steve was the one who couldn't keep his hands to himself. His hand stroked Eddie's thigh, getting close to where he wanted but never actually touching.

"What're you thinking about?", he asked when he noticed how hard Eddie was holding the wheel.

"Oysters. And you." And how he really should get a personal driver on hand.

Steve laughed softly and let a finger do circles on his crotch. "I think our chef was trying to be subtle. But I know what oysters are supposed to do."

"Oh?"

"And I don't need any culinary suggestion to get me in the mood." Honestly, he kind of felt like blowing Eddie now and probably would have chanced it if it wasn't still light out. "Can you be a good boy like he said?"

Eddie nodded.

"Good. Because we still have to take the elevator."

They didn't get as far as they did the first time they took this elevator but Eddie did attach himself to Steve's back and kissed at his neck. Once again, Steve could see their reflection in the wall. Eddie's eyes roamed his torso, wanting to go further but holding back. He only got bold enough to pinch a nipple through his shirt when the doors opened to their floor.

Steve only moved because of Eddie's prompting, finding it very easy to melt in his hold. They got about two steps out of the elevator before Eddie pushed him against the wall, kissing his lips and running his hands up under his shirt.

"Saw you lookin' at yourself in the elevator. Pretty baby likes how he looks?"

Steve's only response was to moan against his lips and rub against his leg. The closest camera was all the way at the end of the hall, though they'd be screwed if anyone opened up their door. He knew he looked good and liked looking good. And he'd seen the way Eddie's eyes were glued to him at the tailor's. That was a good feeling too.

Eddie took out his key card to open up his door and pulled Steve inside. They migrated to the couch, just needing to get horizontal. Steve lied underneath, Eddie's leg in between his again and providing friction as he rutted up against it. It was so hot, Eddie wanted to watch him get off just like this. If he got his pants off he could watch that sweet pussy drag-

Steve nearly jolted off the couch when a loud guitar riff sounded from Eddie's back pocket.

"Shit", Eddie hissed when he realized who was calling. He could ignore it, but he knew they'd just keep it up until they got to his door.

"You need to take that?", Steve asked, voice a little breathless.

"Just-just gimme a moment, it'll be quick." Eddie answered and Steve could be patient. He just couldn't be good and patient. He rubbed at Eddie's arm before taking his hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and swirled his tongue around his index finger, keeping his gaze down at first and then looking up at Eddie.

The man above him was speechless, up until whoever he was talking to shouted at him from the other end and got his attention again. Well, half of it anyway. The other half was on Steve sucking down two of his fingers now. Eddie groaned both in frustration and the beautiful man under him. Steve was only half following the conversation but it sounded like their time together might be cut short.

Eddie hung up with a sigh. "Baby...baby I gotta go."

"Right now?", Steve asked.

"Yeah but...but if you could, I mean you can stay here until I get done. It'll be quick, just a couple of hours tops. And I can take you out to dinner too."

"You want me to stay?"

Eddie's hair shook as he nodded. He stood up, glad he had a bit of time to calm his boner down. Then he saw Steve lying there on the couch, lips kissed wet and certain his lips farther down were just as glistening. He leaned over to cup him between the legs, feeling the warmth through his clothes.

"Don't forget who this belongs to", he growled when Steve whimpered.

"Okay." And because this man was sent from above, he whispered, "Daddy."

Eddie couldn't hold back then, kissing him hard, tongue marking his insides while rubbing Steve through his pants. He unzipped them, thinking he could just get him off quick when the ringtone sounded again. Pulling back was the hardest thing to do.

"Keep it nice and warm for me", Eddie said before fully removing himself.

"Hurry back."

And then Steve was alone. In a rockstar's hotel room. He thought about what a sugar baby might do when their daddy went off for what must be a very important but impromptu meeting, especially when it stopped such a heated moment. It became very obvious what he needed to do and so he headed straight for the bedroom.

Part 5

I need you to know that when I first envisioned this fic it was literally just supposed to be smut with connecting scenes but it somehow turned to "don't catch feelings" and "oops we're accidentally dating" the fic so here we are.

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @sllooney @starman-jpg @oxidantdreamboat @xxbottlecapx @chaosgremlinmunson @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord @beckkthewreck @greatwerewolfbeliever @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi

[ghostbsuter]

Can be read as a continuation of this

.・゜-: ✧ :-

It's been a few weeks, really, since the day he met his biological father.

The oversized hoodie drowned him, a perfect haven while he waits near the entrance to arkham asylum.

The whole week rushed by after the event. His mom, wonderful, black belt, kickass mom had fretted over him the whole time, messaging his therapist not long after and getting an appointment.

His dad had been clingy, giving him bear hugs left and right, it felt nice. Jazz hadn't let him out of her sight for one moment, always searching, always studying.

Man, he loved his family.

"Are you going to visit him?" The gruff voice of Batman asks, and danny shrieks, jumping away as he looks at the vigilante with wide eyes.

"Oh Ancients—! Don't scare me like that!" Danny scolds, hand over his chest and breathing hard.

He can feel the amusement wafting off of Batman. Or something.

Huffing, the child leans against the brickstone pillar holding the gate again.

"No," he ends up answering. "I'm not here to visit... him."

Batman listens quietly, simply standing next to him. He doesn't pressure nor demand anything. If danny thinks more of it, he might get a headache.

"My sister is an intern in Arkham, we're gonna have dinner with Harley and Ivy today." A shrug, and the wind lovingly pushes him.

"Good." The man states, he hesitates a moment before he stretches his arm out towards danny, opening his hand and showcasing the items.

First is a lollipop, famous for being handed over to children after being saved by the bat himself. Second is a pin, in the shape of Batman's signature bat, it had a red button on the other side however.

"It's an emergency alert, in case anything like this happens again." Is quickly explained and Danny takes them, if not a bit tense.

He is unused to the trust the man shows him despite how short their time was spent together. Danny wonders if the bat already snooped around.

"Thanks—"

"Danny!"

His head snaps to the gate opening, brightening up as Jazz runs through and hugs him.

"Jazz!" He eagerly hugs back, thank looks up at her.

"You gotta meet Bat—" He trails off when they turn to the empty spot next to the pair, wind rustling leaves just as he finished. "man..."

Damn batman.

Danny huffs and tugs at Jazz's jacket. "Nevermind then, c'mon let's get a nice present before we visit harley."

Simply bringing her up seems to have Jazz excited. "I still can't believe we're having dinner with THE Dr. Harleen Quinzel!!!"

"And her wife."

"aND THE Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley!!!"

Her enthusiasm is rubbing off on him, he grins, hooking up his arm around hers, and they're skipping towards town, laughing like maniacs.

[shithowdy]

my identity as the guy who points out generative images because i believe in people having the skill to discern them to both protect themselves and artists is constantly at odds with the part of me that doesn't want to be an annoying killjoy on things like funny memes but i think just for the sake of people who try to avoid it altogether: those pixelated-looking wizards are generative AI, as are like, 90% of all the classically-styled wizard images suddenly appearing on social media (like, if you see a wizard with impact font, it's... probably AI)

the pixelated style in these memes, i think, throws a lot of people off because it obscures a lot of the crunchy details and isn't typical of usual generative styles, but it still has the hallmarks of details that can't be explained, nonsense architecture, and objects fusing together (nevermind the weird hands).

i'm just going to keep pointing these things out even if it makes me Not Fun. I just want people to understand where the things they share originate.

[kiaxet]

Sooooo y’all see the latest @somerandomdudelmao comic update? Because once again it is living in my head, which means once again my brain has generated fic. This one’s ~1200 words and slightly less tragic, depending on whether or not you take dramatic irony into account.

~~~~~~~

It starts fairly innocuously.

One of the surviving technicians monitors a computer as it finally, finally boots up successfully, whooping when the Genius Tech loading screen pops up. He grins and pats the power cable. "Thanks, Raph!"

It catches on.

A water purifier, disconnected to save a struggling power supply, gets plugged back in. It chugs back to life, and the kids responsible for its upkeep cheer and high five. One of them waves at the ceiling, where a power conduit runs overhead. "Thanks, Mister Raph!"

And it spreads like wildfire.

Every time something works the way it's supposed to - every time a much-needed device pops back to life, or the emergency doors close correctly, or a dying lightbulb flickers on one more time - they thank Raph. In gleeful shouts and careful whispers, they show gratitude for the person who gave up his life - and his second chance at life, at that - to keep them safe. It makes the emergency base, ramshackle and barely held together as it is, feel a little more like a home. A little more alive.

It doesn't take long for a few unspoken rules to develop.

They never say it in front of the metal shell. It's one thing to say it to the walls, the cables, the electricity; it's something else to say it to a figure with a face, seated against the wall like a sentinel that will awaken and protect them when danger arises.

(Nevermind that they've been in danger, constant and unending, for decades, and that this sentinel is already protecting them in smaller, everyday ways.)

They learn very quickly never to say it in front of Raph's surviving family, either. Master Leonardo gets angry when he hears it. It's an anger born of grief and loss, painful but not dangerous to allies, but given how terrifying Master Leonardo can be on the battlefield or a bad day, nobody really wants that anger directed at them. Master Michaelangelo just stops when he hears it, lips curling up in an expression too devoid of life to truly be called a smile. It's almost worse to witness than Master Leonardo's anger. No, they learn to watch themselves in front of the family, carefully taking their gratitude towards a dead man elsewhere.

Until the day someone forgets and says it in front of Casey Junior.

The kid looks up at Roger with wide, almost hopeful eyes. "Why did you- is he here? Can you feel him?"

Roger stares back at him with equally wide eyes. He'd just been grateful the computer had booted correctly for his monitor shift, and he hadn't been looking, and now he has to try to explain this to a kid who's never known a life outside the apocalypse. Oh boy. "No, uh- I mean- I don't have magic like your dads do, Casey, I couldn't-" He sighs. "It's just...a thing people do, when things work. Before the Krang, we had all sorts of machines that made life easier, and...we'd talk to 'em. Thank 'em when they worked, yell or beg when they didn't...I remember threatening a fax machine once, not that that made any difference. I think that just...kinda carried over here." Wait. "Not that your uncle was a machine or anything-"

"His body was a machine," Casey says simply, with a pragmatism that Roger hadn't been expecting. Apocalypse-raised kid. Right. "That wasn't what made him Uncle Raph. He was- it's-" Casey falters, expression starting to crumble. Pragmatism be damned, the kid is still grieving-

Rem, just coming off her shift, steps in smoothly. It's not the first time she's saved Roger's ass, both on and off the battlefield, and it won't be the last. "We know," she says gently, putting an arm around Casey's shoulders. "What Roger means is that we're grateful he's keeping us going, and that people like to bond with machines even when they're too simple to bond back. We all used to name our cars - can you believe it?"

"I named mine Red Rider," Roger says wistfully. He still misses that car.

"And I used to sneak out of the Hidden City with my cloaking brooch and go joyriding outside of human cities," Rem says, a grin splitting her feline muzzle. "I named every car I stole Phantom, like I thought I was cool."

Casey smiles - small and watery, but there nonetheless - and Roger breathes a sigh of relief. "What else did you name?"

"I mean, it was mostly cars, but some people named their computers."

"I had a friend who named her phone and just kept adding numbers when she had to replace it. It was Duchess O'Brien the eighth last I'd heard."

"I know some Yokai named their weapons, but I never really kept track of those. It was more of a Battle Nexus fandom thing."

Another Yokai leans in - a four eyed lizard whose name Roger could never remember no matter how hard he tried - and Roger shuts up. She's in charge of security now, and honestly she intimidates him. She looks around - at him, at Rem, at Casey - and then intones seriously, "I once named a kitchen appliance Toasty McToastFace."

There's a beat of silence. Casey has a lopsided grin growing on his face, like he doesn't get the joke but he knows it is one, and that's enough to lift his mood.

And then Rem doubles over, cracking up, and Bob smiles carefully. "Really loved that toaster, huh?"

"It was my closest friend," the lizard Yokai replies, deadpan as hell, before leaving the conversation.

Casey turns that confused grin on Roger. "Was she serious?"

"Kid, I have no idea. Some people are just really into this kinda thing."

Rem finally straightens up, wiping a tear from her eye with a paw. "Ohhhh boy. Oh, I needed that." She turns her smile back on Casey. "Point being, naming something makes it a little more real, and makes you a little more likely to take care of it. The system here...already has a name. We're just saying thank you, you know?"

The grin on Casey's face settles down into consideration. "Yeah, I think I do. I- Thanks. I'm gonna-" He waves at the door to finish his sentence.

"Go for it, kid." Roger waves him off as he departs, then sighs once he's gone. "God, that kid is just hemmhorraging family, isn't he."

"We all are, Roger, it's the fucking apocalypse." Rem flicks an ear.

"Yeah, but still. It's rough." There's a second or two of silence. "Also, if he says it in front of Master Leonardo, I'm denying all knowledge of this conversation."

"Spirits, same."

Roger learns a few days later - from Rem, of course - that Casey has named his chainsaw hockey stick Killer, because it's what his mom used to call him. Well damn, if kids like him are gonna be the future, then maybe they have some hope after all. He raps on a wall lightly, just below where the power conduit is mounted. "I know you didn't have a lot of time with the kid, but you did a good job." He can't help but smile. "Thanks, Raph."

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Good morning I'm thinking about how Azure Lion's treatment of Monkey King kinda explains a lot about Monkey Kings teaching style in LMK

Azure absolutely lavished Wukong with praise in a manipulative sense, described him as something he really wasn't "I see non other fit to rule us than you brother" yada yada and everyone followed behind him because Azure's right! He says truthful stuff! Nevermind the others clearly never once thought of Monkey King as their leader. At least not until Azure said it. Because Monkey King in LMK wasn't a warring being, honestly he just seemed like a young adult being manipulated by much older adults.

Azure crafted Monkey King into someone who would fight his battles for him. Wukong was on the front lines, Wukong took the fall for it. He used his relationship with sun wukong to manipulate him into taking on Heaven and ngl atho I'm still kinda :T about it, (it takes away so much of Monkey Kings character,) it really does explain why he acts the way he does around Mk at the beginning.

Starting out he kept him at arms length. It was a while before he even made contact with him outside of sparring and the contact he makes with him is minimal from the start, a hand on his shoulder and never for long. (Azure's hand and gaze always lingered on Monkie King, when theyre about to go to war Azure doesnt let go, Wukong has to be the one to pull away.) He doesn't lavish him in praise ever if he can help it, he doesn't ever tell Mk he's something he's not and when stuff like Spider Queen and Lady Bone Demon happen his first reaction is to get Mk away from those things, not because he doesn't trust Mk, but maybe because he would never ever make Mk fight his battles like Azure Lion did him.

I dunno something something truama I'm sick rn

[ohheythisisagoodname]

write your name with hearts

featuring: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, tamaki amajiki, shinso hitoshi note: so sorry their all kinda short so i could fit them all without doing a second part

izuku (i can't tell if this is a person of broccoli....)

~ he was taking notes on you and your quirk one day

~ poor baby didn't even notice it because he was going on and on about your quirk until uraraka pointed it out in curiosity

~ his face lit up like a tomato

~ he tried to explain somehow but failed... horribly...

~ he actually ended up doing it a few more times

~ you caught him doing it once and he closed (slammed) his book faster than the speed on light. At least he didn't say he didn't do it.

~ after that you would always look over his paper sometimes to try and catch him in the act but after that he's never been caught again, doesn't mean he doesn't do it though.

~ it's just something he can't get over now

bakugo (the angry pomeranian. best friends a simp so might be a little bit oc-ish)

~ even he doesn't know what happened but one second his writing with his head in his hands and the next he's a blushing mess.

~ you had walked past his desk and when you saw it you pointed it out.

~ bakugo would extremely blush, but then he would try to hide it and start yelling at you telling you to mind your own business and start saying your delusional.

~ afterward after class he would go straight to his dorm a blushing mess.

~ like deku you would never find him doing it again.

~ for weeks after that you would be on his mind, he would think about that god awful moment.

~ he tried to play off the thoughts running in his head about your pretty little face as you had asked about it.

~ god he loved that curious glint in your eyes, but he'll NEVER say so.

shoto (it's icy thought on thursdays)

(help i have no idea how he would act, soo soo soo sorry this is gonna be so ooc, but all of them are soo...)

~ deku finds him doing it and asks him about it quietly so you couldn't hear shoto was writing your name with hearts.

~ he automatically erases it and stares at deku with a poker face "who's y/n?"

~ deku would automatically fall silent. "eh... um... nevermind." deku would say ending that awkward conversation.

~ of course somehow word about it would get to you, how? no idea. don't ask me.

~ you could ask shoto about it but he would just ghost the question.

~ like bakugo he would never be seen doing it again but his feelings for you would escalate from that day.

denki (my cute little sparky boy who lit a spark in my heart)

~ kiri found out about denki tending to write your name (yes in yellow hearts. get it? haha, i'm so funny... ha... ha... i'm delusional and a idiot...)

~ denki openly admitted it with an energetic smile

~ after going on and on about for a full hour with bakugo and kiri just staring at him like he's a simp (but i'm a bigger simp)

~ after that he just sat back down laughing awkwardly and scratching the back of his head.

~ if you had asked him about it though his brain would fry like when he uses his quirk and he would become a blushing mess

~ if you didn't though he would just stay cocky about it thinking that if you ever found out he'd just have a chance to ask you out but as you can see... it failed... horribly...

~ he would still ask you out though... in this brain... his fried brain...

~ but all that you would get was a blushing mess and incomprehensible babbles.

~ he would try again once he's brain wasn't on the fritz but his brain fried again thinking about it... holly ratatouille he's cute

tamaki (no.1 shy boi of my heart, ligt changing songs just for him, now playing "i can't handle change" by roar,)

~ you thought the others were nervous? oh boy... ignore getting your brain fried, ignore turning into a tomato, ignore whatever shoto and bakugo were. this shy boy right here is the real deal.

~ mario *ahem* i mean mirio caught tamaki in the act and asked about it.

~ of course tamaki blushed, with that quivering smile appearing on his lips.

~ tamaki being mirio's best friend told him about his feelings for you and mirio being mirio promised not to tell a soul

~ but once nejire told mirio about your little crush on tamaki mirio told nejire about tamaki's little crush on you. and then the word spread like wildfire

~ once tamaki had figured it out he was in a full blown panic attack

~ poor baby didn't even consider you liked him back and thought it was all a prank on him for liking

~ it took a lot of convincing for him to finally understand you liked him back

shinso (my beautiful insomniac who would keep me company through those bad nights)

~ umm... so who's the worst person to find you writing your crush's name with hearts? stop thinking its aizawa.

~ as soon as he catches shinso writing your name with hearts next to it.... damn... his own Protégé having a crush on his own student...

~ aizawa doesn't exactly hate the idea of shinso getting a girl/boyfriend but at the same time they could get in the way of hero work.

~ aizawa keeps it to himself that he knows shinso's crush but shinso had noticed something was off about the way mr.aizawa would act when he and you were together

~ once shinso had asked about it and aizawa explained shinso had birds over his head

~ after that he makes a deal with aizawa, he works as hard as he can and aizawa will help shinso get to go one a date with her and boy shinso kept his word

bye bye

none of it is my art

[matchingbatbites]

Love Grows - Part 1

This is my take on teen dad Steve! It was just supposed to be a ficlet, but the word count is currently hovering at 4k and I'm not done, so this will be going up in parts. <3

Ao3 | Part 2

February '85

The rumors have been flying for weeks. It only took one cheerleader to see Steve Harrington out and about with a baby and soon enough the news was all over the school. Nevermind that no one else has even seen said baby, but just the one accusation is enough to send the rumor mill into production.

It's something that had piqued Eddie's interest, but he quickly attributed it to teenagers spreading drama, a fiction created for their own entertainment. That is, until the day Harrington shows up to school with the baby.

The halls are buzzing, more so than usual, and it only takes until second period for Eddie to realize why. The entire class breaks into whispers when Steve walks in with a baby carrier in one hand, a piece of paper in the other, and a diaper bag slung over his shoulder. The paper goes to the teacher, who reads it before saying something to Steve, and Eddie is so curious but unable to hear anything over the chatter in the room.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off Steve for the rest of the class. He watches as the carrier finds a home on the floor, right by Steve’s desk, and Eddie has a perfect view of the little, rosy-cheeked baby girl from his seat two rows behind Steve (at least, Eddie’s assuming it’s a girl. The blanket tucked around her is a soft pink, so-). He sees every time Steve leans over to check on her, sees how her big eyes flick up to look at him, how she smiles around the pacifier in her mouth. 

It makes Eddie go all gooey inside; he's always loved kids, always hoped to find a guy who is good with them, and seeing Harrington being so attentive only increases the low-key crush he has on the other guy (he knows it’s a little pathetic, but Steve is very attractive, and Eddie is very gay, sue him). When the class ends, Eddie gathers his stuff slowly so he has an excuse to hang back a little and watch Steve interact with the baby some more, but soon enough the younger is also packed up and out the door.

Eddie doesn't see Steve again until later that day, when he's skipping out on 5th period and hears a baby crying as he passes by a closed classroom door. He peeks in through the window and sees Harrington pacing slowly while holding the baby against his shoulder, one arm supporting her from the bottom as his free hand rubs circles into her back. 

For a moment Eddie thinks about walking on, about just leaving Steve alone as he comforts his wailing child, but the cries pull hard on Eddie's heartstrings and he finds himself opening the door and slipping inside.

"Everything okay?" he asks, and Steve looks up in surprise before his expression shifts into something unreadable. 

"Yeah, we're fine. She's just extra fussy because she's teething. I came in here because I don't want to disturb anyone else." 

Eddie hums and goes to the nearby diaper bag, starts digging through it and is surprised when Steve doesn't tell him to stop. He finds a little bottle of numbing gel and smears some onto his pinky before sliding it into the baby's still wailing mouth, and carefully rubs it over her gums as he coos at her. 

"I know, honey, it hurts so bad. It's gonna be okay, though, just you wait." 

He glances up to see Steve staring at him, his expression curious, and Eddie suddenly feels overexposed. 

"My last neighbor had two jobs and three small kids, so I have a little experience with babies," Eddie explains, needing to fill the sudden silence that falls as the baby calms. His finger is still in her mouth, and he feels no desire to remove it, especially once she starts gnawing on it gently. Steve glances down at his girl before giving Eddie a soft smile, and Eddie's heart flips in his chest. 

"That's more than I have, at least. Thanks." 

"No worries, man. What, uh- what's her name?"

"Rosemary," Steve says, humming when the baby makes a soft noise. "At least, that's what I'm changing it to, as soon as I'm able." 

The warmth that had settled in Eddie's stomach sours a little at Steve's declaration, and as he pulls his finger from the baby's mouth he can't help biting out "And her mom is okay with you changing her name?" 

The atmosphere in the room changes as Steve's face crumbles, and Eddie knows he's said something wrong. 

"Her mom didn't want anything to do with her," Steve replies softly, and oh no, Eddie instantly feels like a piece of shit. He'd heard the rumors that some girl had just dumped the baby on him, but he didn't think they were true. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry, man. I didn't mean to assume anything." 

"It's okay. No one really knows about the whole… situation." 

There's an awkward pause before Eddie asks "So, Rosemary. Your choice wouldn't happen to be inspired by a certain Edison Lighthouse song, would it?" He smiles when Steve blushes, the pink dusting his face so sweetly as he shrugs. 

"It was my grandma's favorite song, and a lot of my happy memories are with her, so... I've already started calling her Rosie, so she'll be used to it." 

"It’s a good name," Eddie hums, rubbing his thumb over Rosie's tiny eyebrow. "She's a cute kid, Harrington."

Steve mutters a soft “Thanks,” and then there’s a brief pause before he asks "Do you- do you want to hold her?" and Eddie doesn't even hesitate before nodding and giving a quick “Yes!”

He takes off his jacket and vest in one go, knowing the fabric is a little rough, and takes the baby when Steve offers her to him. He holds her close, one hand supporting her and the other resting on her back, and starts to sway a little. "I haven't held a baby in like, two years. I forgot how calming it is." Steve hums and smiles as he sits on a nearby desk. “Yeah, it is.”

They spend the rest of the time just talking about whatever comes to mind, and it's really fucking nice. Eddie learns about the gaggle of kids Steve babysits ("They're all shitheads, but I love them, even when they're using me as a chauffeur.") and Eddie talks a little about his own friends, his band ("I mean being famous is the end goal, but it's also just fun to get together and be creative just for the sake of it, you know?") and before they know it, the bell is ringing to signal the end of the period. 

Steve frowns, a cute pout that tugs on the corners of his mouth, and Eddie has to bite back a smile at the expression. He sets a now sleeping Rosie back into her carrier before shrugging on his jacket and vest, and hesitates for a moment. 

"Listen, Harrington. I know that we don't really know each other, but I've seen firsthand how tough this single parent shit can be, so. If you ever need a hand, or need someone to watch her so you can get shit done, you can ask me, yeah? No worry, no judgment."

Steve blinks at him, big hazel eyes flicking between Eddie's like he's making an insight check against Eddie's words. He must like what he finds, because he smiles softly and says "Thanks, Munson."

And Eddie shrugs, and smiles in return. "Call me Eddie, man."

[astralnymphh]

i see all of your new requests, but let me post this yapfest first. i wanted to explain my further vision on "the sweeter the wheat" and how post-seattle!ellie just follows the reader around like a puppy and is a fucking #loser. :P

seeking revenge never felt so transformative, inside and outside of the material world. when ellie swore to her blade that it would taste the bitter, briny blood of abby, she never expected such a fallout as the one that befell her in the theater. in the maw of adversity, she failed to quench that blood-promise, and it left her with a few broken things that now surround her in jackson.

her garage quietened to the level of an abandoned church, lacking a dina, a joel, and a heart to laden it with sunlit laughter. her agonies: a ghost you bring back with you that says no word, no whisper, no indications of disgust with that fleshly desire for a second go at the blonde wolf who set her into this cycle, just a silence. something that eroded her thoughts to the bone and made them gnash and scrape against her head in an effort to dig deep for resolve. it brought nothing but regret and punished her into repeated sleep, where yet, she still sorrowed. a laid, humiliatingly tidy hill of bones sorrowed, one of them fractured at the center. forgiveness, fractured.

then there was you, traipsing through the thoroughfare towards the diner she thinks is your new station of operation, but isn't too sure. it was there, she followed many paces behind you, struggling with her weary feet and her slung arm—which dependently embraces her stomach for safety, solace, and health—watching you grow further and further away into the cry of spring light as she gawked on like a dog with a bone. a dog who simply wanted to play a game of catch but fears the look of desperation. maybe she doesn't deserve attention. that was before she even made it inside the diner at all.

it was in you that she sought a temporary resolve, wasting all those temperate, late nights weaving her limbs into you instead of sulking in her own emptiness. ellie's dolour and dejection turned into a sediment; she erased all disgust and question in her gut, and had forgotten what had her in tears weeks before. you're a saint, a goddamn fun person to be around. she likes to laugh with you, at you. she likes to sketch you, paint you. she likes to cook for you—even if hopelessly attempted. she likes to talk about where she might relocate to if given the chance, van life in the apocalypse, perhaps? you tell her everything is far beyond okay, and that she isn't a total loser for taking this long to ask you out but remained a desperate case in her journal and in her sentiments. she likes to hug you, hold you, touch you, even if it makes all those cringy diary entries look like wishes turned true. she likes to kiss you, even if it means she might rise into love with you and accidentally catch you in her never-ending blight.

“i just, um—nevermind. can't take myself seriously when i start to get all sappy, so i better stop before i.. yeah,” her voice became shy again, so to speak, fiddling with her ear nervously. quickly, she made herself useful by reorganizing the pillows so you could lay by her. shuffling onto her side and reaching out that newly-healed arm for you, “c'mon, i'm tired as shit,” elusively laughing.

it's the reason she holds back sometimes.

[weenwrites]

Cooking A Meal: Part 2

Summary - You ask one of the cons to cook you a meal, but honestly it goes about as well as you'd expect. Characters - Megatron, Shockwave, Starscream, Soundwave, Dreadwing, Knockout, Breakdown, Airachnid, Predaking, Darksteel, Skylynx Content - Crack Category - Headcanons Trigger Warnings - None

✎ A/N: This is an un-revised shitpost, not something too serious.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Megatron

Don't even bother having him try to cook you something, he can't cook at all. More often than not he'll just send some vehicon off to fetch you a meal, but when he's actually put in a kitchen and told to cook a meal, he'll probably serve you a plate of charred... Stuff.

It reeks and honestly you can't even tell what it used to be. The most he knows about cooking is that humans always heat up their food. He doesn't know how cooked a piece of meat or a slice of bread has to be, and despite knowing how useful patience is, he can't bring himself to wait a couple minutes for a slice of bread to turn golden brown.

Even with some instructions he doesn't understand a single word on that page. What does "fold in the cheese" even mean?! All in all, the food tastes awful, the presentation is awful, and it's not even a nice experience, he somewhat cleans his mess, but still, it's an awful experience. Even your local fast food restaurant would serve something better than what he could make you.

Shockwave

He wouldn't be too bad at cooking... However the meal he's served you is most likely made from some artificial substitute... It's not bad, per say, and it has a higher nutritional value than everything in your kitchen combined, but... He didn't stand in a kitchen to make it, he stood in a lab and fabricated it. That aside, it's plain and has a bit of a weird taste, the presentation sucks, and it's not naturally made, it was fabricated in a laboratory. It counts as science. Not cooking. So nevermind, he'd be bad at cooking.

But if he were to cook, he'd get into the technicalities of all, and spout food science facts at you. He'd tell you all about how proteins in meat force out moisture through coagulation, and that's how meat cooks. Or how amino acids and simple sugars are rearranged to change the color of meat as it cooks. Unless you know about food science yourself, all it may sound like some scientific garble to you. Whether you implore him to continue or not is all up to you.

But just because he knows about the chemical composition of a cracker doesn't mean he knows how to make things taste good. He chooses things based on their nutritional value, not their taste. Everything from meal portions, to seasonings, to even the temperature it was cooked at is all carefully measured to ensure that you're getting your healthy fill of nutrients. He doesn't even allow you to season it afterwards, because any more seasoning would disturb the healthy balance.

Still, while it may be nutritious, it certainly isn't delicious, but at least it's 100% edible and extremely healthy.

Starscream

He didn't know humans cooked their food, he thought they just ate it as is. So you'll have to explain a lot of stuff to him before either of you actually get anywhere. But once he gets the basics down, he'll be off to a rough, yet good start!

He's very particular about the way things are organized in a kitchen, and he'll get real annoyed if you moved something like a spatula or a spoon he was using. He's sorta set up this organization system in the kitchen that works specifically for him and no one else. While it may look like a mess on the outside, it works really well for him.

He'd never touch raw meat, even if it were to cook for you. He just hates the feeling, so you'd basically have no luck at getting him to scrub a chicken down with salt and seasoning unless you gave him a pair of gloves or a brush. But even if he's a bit squeamish, he's very thorough with his work, and very patient too. But he does complain about how long it takes for things to prepare things and then cook.

Might be a bit burnt here, and a bit bland over there, but if you pick some parts out and sprinkle some salt, pepper, spice, or hot sauce on it, it makes for a solid-ish meal! Which is pretty impressive, given the fact he once knew nothing about cooking a few hours ago.

Soundwave

They're actually a really good chef, better than everyone else, that's for sure. Soundwave knows where and how to learn what he needs to know, so it wouldn't take long for him to research and grasp the bare bones of cooking. And after a couple of tries, they could definitely whip you up a 5 star meal that tastes like something the best chef in the world would make.

It's almost scary how fast he learns, but hey at least you're getting like one of the best meals in the world using cheap ingredients from your fridge. Like who knew ketchup could taste so good in place of fancy marinara sauce!

And because of the amazing meal he made, it's without a doubt that he is the undisputed best chef aboard the Nemesis and everybody else's skills immediately pale in comparison. If it were a competition, it would've been over the moment they joined.

Dreadwing

Like almost everyone on this list, he has no idea what to do, and he has no idea what humans eat, so it ends up being a bit of a lecture before he actually starts cooking. It might take him a bit, and he'll stumble here and there, but he's always quick to ask good questions to ensure he has a solid grasp on what he needs to do.

He's quick to pick up anything you teach him, like about cutting vegetables, or seasoning meals, temperature, et cetera. And in a while, he's able to follow a recipe rather well, only occasionally coming to you to ask a question about what "folding" or "basting" or "al dente" means.

He'd serve you a pretty solid meal all in all. But on the off-chance that what he made for you had caused you to get sick, he'd immediately and sincerely apologize to you, and most likely never make you a meal ever again.

Knockout

He has some knowledge around human cooking thanks to the internet, and it helps the slightest bit, but for the most part he'll be bugging you with all his questions about human cuisine and cooking.

And all the while he's cooking, he'll ask you to fetch him things like that kitchen knife over there, or that measuring cup—no, not that one. That one was used for wet ingredients, he needs the other one that was used for dry ingredients, now chop chop. The clock's ticking. Or he'll holler at you to come and help hold the bowl as he scrapes the mixture into another pan.

Surprisingly, the kitchen actually remains rather nice and orderly throughout it all. He fills your sink with water and just leaves the dirty dishes in there to soak, and cleans messes the instant they're made, which greatly helps with clean-up afterward! But he won't touch the dishes. He just hates the feeling of scrubbing grimy food off, so you're on your own unless you give him a pair of gloves.

But as for the food itself? It's... Semi-decent! He may have burned it a little, or messed up one of the steps, but it still tastes good and it's still edible. He even decorates it nicely! He'd chop any vegetables into cute little shapes, and he has a good eye for presentation. So it's pretty nice.

Breakdown

He doesn't know anything about human cooking. He does question where the heck human food comes from though, and the most he knows is that humans consume other organisms, which he finds really weird. So in the beginning, the whole cooking session might be more of an educational session than anything, but only so he understands what humans can eat and what he should be doing.

He technically doesn't do any cooking since he just makes you things like instant noodles or instant mac n' cheese. But he'll need a bit of supervising because with the noodles, he'll put the seasoning packet in the water while the noodles are cooking, and then drain the noodles because he thought that the noodles would absorb the flavor (same goes for the mac n' cheese), but it turns out that the cheese water just goes down the drain. So it technically isn't completely his fault that the food may taste off (because instant food doesn't always taste that good...) but he does mess some of the steps up which contributes to that.

But with a little guidance here, and a little trial and error there, he'll actually be able to whip up something pretty decent using the instant stuff as a base! He'll add things like chopped up vegetables or spice for some flavor in some instant ramen, or cook the macaroni in milk and add some mustard for mac n' cheese, or perhaps crack an egg and add some garlic into some insta-soup.

All in all, it's a pretty solid meal for his first time cooking. But does it really technically count as cooking if he used an already pre-made thing to make it?

Airachnid

If she didn't care about you as much as she does, she would've fed you something poisonous if she didn't ignore your request first. She's... A questionable cook... To say the least, but one thing's for sure, all the meat she uses in her cooking is fresh. And I mean fresh as in "she dragged that animal into the kitchen and slaughtered it on the spot" kind of fresh, which is ideal if you're eating something that requires super fresh meat like oysters.

She doesn't burn the food, but she most likely under-cooks it. As for seasoning, well, she doesn't add any, so whatever you're eating will need a whole lot of salt, pepper, and spices either to taste like something, or to distract from the horrible taste the food already has.

But while the food may taste weird, the presentation's interesting. It's something of an art, made from something you don't even think you can call "food" anymore, but it's interesting to look at.

All in all, the food tastes horrible, the presentation's neat, and you're 100% guaranteed to get food poisoning if you scarf the entire meal down (which you won't, the stench is bad enough to kill even flies).

Predaking

He can't cook at all—actually, he doesn't even know what humans eat, so you'll have to explain to him quite a lot. Even then, he'll probably just bring you a dead animal and assume that's enough. You'll actually have to lecture him on cooking meat, preparing ingredients, and whatnot. So this whole thing turns into a cooking lesson as opposed to doing actual cooking.

He soaks all that knowledge up like a sponge, and with his newfound knowledge of cooking he's able to make something relatively decent for you, if not leaning more towards mediocre! The meal is something simple, probably from a cookbook you have at your house (or on the internet...)

All in all, while it's below average, it's probably above-par by your standards, given the fact you just taught him how to cook a hot second ago. The presentation is simple, the food actually tastes good, so all in all it's a pretty average meal.

Darksteel

Surprise, surprise! He is the worst cook out of them all. And here you might have thought that Predaking or Airachnid would've been the worst, but nope. It's him. He'd most likely burn your kitchen down, if not trash everything you have, and waste everything you have in your fridge. The best he does is bring you a dead animal that he "cooked" by spewing fire at it. Then again it's most likely either overcooked or undercooked and would definitely give you trichinellosis, E. coli, BSE, salmonella, or whatever other horrible disease you risk contracting by eating what he's served you.

But what about vegetables? He doesn't even know what a vegetable is, and unless you give him a really thorough description of what counts as a vegetable or not, he'd most likely just uproot a tree or pluck a bush out from the ground and give it to you, mildly scorched, because he remembered that you have to cook it.

If you were to ask him about presentation, he'd probably pose the scorched cattle or chicken he got his claws on, set the crisp "vegetables" upright, and think that's good enough "presentation".

Bottom line? Do not eat anything he gives you, it'll absolutely destroy your stomach.

Skylynx

Yeah he doesn't want to. He'd hate cooking so much because everything takes so long to do! He's sensible enough to do some research and learn, or ask you questions for clarification, but waiting for water to boil just drives him crazy.

He tries to work diligently and be patient, but you might catch him cutting corners a little bit. How so? Well, he'd raise the temperature of the stove to get something to cook faster, or if he needs to carefully ground something into a poultice, he'll just smush it into paste. If you're having something simple like mashed potatoes, then he has absolutely no problem preparing that.

He doesn't pay much attention to how it looks, so while the food he serves looks unappetizing as he straight up slaps it onto your plate, it actually tastes pretty decent... Ish... Decent-ish. Sure your food may have come out a bit burnt, or you might find some weird chunks in it, but it's better than what Darksteel has to offer, that's for sure.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 19: Pathology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Mikey wakes up to the sound of shouting and yelling.

"Oh, no.... oh no... oh no, oh no, oh nonononono...! Why today? This couldn't have happened like, last week, or maybe next month?!"

Mikey wonders what could be so upsetting to Leo. There's the sound of rushing back and forth, people shouting and whining and acting all terrified. He watches from his room as people keep running past his door.

A figure stops in his doorway -- Leo, by the smell and voice -- and flicks on the lights while yelling worriedly. The lights blind him momentarily as his vision switches from heat-seeking to binocular.

"Mikey! We gotta get you somewhere safe, bud..."

"Why?" he croaks.

Mikey doesn't even have to get out of the hammock before Leo scoops him up -- blankets and all -- and starts running with him.

"Dad's sick with rat flu!"

"Huh?"

"You don't remember rat flu?" Leo asks, looking down at Mikey as he runs. "Well, uh... it's this whole thing, it would take too long to explain. Basically, he gets a really bad cold and has weird symptoms. We don't wanna risk you getting infected just yet, so I'm having you bunker down in Dee's lab."

Mikey isn't sure what is going on, but everyone seems frantic. Leo drops him off in the lab, where Casey is also hiding out.

"Are you sure we'll be safe in here?" Casey asks, watching as Mikey is gently set down on the floor, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

"Probably... Splinter will be more focused on us than you, so all should be well... Have you ever seen rat flu, Casey?"

"A few times, though I don't remember much," Casey says with a shrug. "It happened mostly when I was a toddler, and before we had to eat Master Splinter."

"Okay, well, there's the seven stages -- wait, what?"

Leo shakes his head and holds up his hands.

"Nevermind, forget I asked, moving past, I don't ever want to know that story..."

"It was the apocalypse, we were running low on food, and his last wishes were--"

"But back to the rat flu!" Leo interrupts loudly, "Splinter will be going through the full seven stages, and those are way too chaotic for Mikey to be caught up in just yet. Besides, we don't know how well he's going to react to the flu if he should get contaminated by the germs. It's safest to just keep him in preemptive quarantine for now..."

"Alright, so what's first?" Casey asks, sitting next to Mikey.

Mikey shuffles just a bit away from him, eyeing Casey's hands nervously as his brother explains.

"First stage is fever, which -- oh man, I totally forgot about that..."

"What?" Mikey asks, concerned for why Leo is getting so bent out of shape. "What wrong?"

"Dad's first symptom is he gets overheated from the fever, so he cranks the AC all the way up," Leo groans, rushing out and shouting to the others. "Raph! I need blankets and a heater, stat!"

"Cold?" Mikey asks nervously.

"Yup, very cold. But we'll be prepared, don't worry," Leo says, as Raph rushes in with a stack of quilts and a heater.

"Will this be enough?" Raphael asks, handing half of the stack to the leader.

"I think so... Casey, there's a hoodie here, you should bundle up too," Leo says, throwing the oversized shirt at the future boy while Raph wraps Mikey up like a burrito.

"Danger?" Mikey asks nervously, watching Raph.

"No, there's no danger, it's just crazy and confusing," Raph reassures him.

Mikey can smell the fear. He can hear the nervous twinge in his voice. He can see the wrinkles on his head forming.

But Mikey trusts them. They may be scared, but they will help.

Mikey snuggles into the quilts and hums. Leo and Casey set up the heater before the two brothers leave the room.

"Casey knows how to work the door, so if anything goes wrong, he'll open it up, okay? But unless you hear one of us say something, keep this door locked for now."

"Leo safe? Raph safe?" Mikey asks.

"Sure! Like I said, it's just a flu."

Leo hands a communicator to Casey before he winks at Mikey, his smile strained and thin. The doors close with a hiss and a click, bolting from the inside out.

Mikey and Casey sit quietly as they wait.

Soon enough the air seems to chill, and their breaths can be seen as fog in the room. Mikey squirms in discomfort, pulling the blankets closer. Casey starts to shiver.

The communicator beeps, and Leo's voice chimes in.

"Stage one is in progress. You guys okay?"

"We're f-f-fine," Casey chatters. "K-k-keep us upd-d-dated."

"Will do."

The line clicks, and the two sit in silence.

Mikey shivers. The blankets help, but he can still feel the frigid chill of the air through the sheets. It doesn't hurt yet, but it is uncomfortable. The floor is ice under him. He tucks the quilts under his feet and legs as he tries to insulate himself better. He looks over to see Casey suffering by the heater. Mikey chirps at him to get his attention.

"Sh-sh-share?" he asks.

Casey looks Mikey up and down before nodding. Mikey hops over and opens his fortress, a gush of icey air whooshing in and stabbing his unprotected legs. He gasps and hisses through his teeth as Casey slides in and helps wrap the blankets around them again.

"The shared body heat will h-help," he says, his shivers shaking him to the core. "Thanks. I-I-I didn't think you l-liked m-m-me anymore..."

Mikey frowns.

"M-Mikey not h-hate Casey..."

He slinks into his shell a bit more.

"...Mikey s-s-scared of Casey..."

"Scared?" Casey stares wide at Mikey. "Why?"

"Mikey... not r-r-rem-member-r Casey. But Cas-s-sey human, humans scare Mikey," he whimpers.

Mikey hides his face under the blanket. Or maybe he's just trying to keep warm.

"Humans mean. Hate Mikey. Hurt Mikey. Mikey scared a lot... Mikey scared."

Casey sighs.

"I guess that makes sense. I-If I'm honest, I'd probably be scared of humans t-t-too..." He wraps his arms around the bundle. "But I'm glad you told me. I thought you just hated me!"

Mikey huffs, a shivering chuckle.

"Mikey th-th-thought C-Casey hate Mikey!"

"What? Why?"

"C-C-Casey-y look s-sad," Mikey explains. "Casey look sad at brothers, too. Casey l-look s-scared of Mikey..." Mikey sighs at the last sentence. "Mikey scares brothers. Mikey see. Mikey scary."

"You're n-not scary!" Casey lies. "We're just... concerned for your health. You went through a lot of injury, and we weren't there to help you. That's what scares us."

Mikey peeks up at him. CJ gently presses his head against Mikey's.

"We... we were so terrified, Mikey. You have no idea how happy I was to see you back... last week without you was a nightmare. I've never seen Leo so scared, and I saw him sacrifice everything to send me--"

He clears his throat.

"Uhm... getting off-topic. What I-I'm trying to say is... we're not scared of you, we're scared for you."

Mikey gives him a shy smile. He knows that Casey is lying. He can smell it. But Casey doesn't want to hurt him. Mikey purrs, nuzzling Casey's shoulder. CJ chuckles and pulls Mikey closer.

A moment later, the communicator beeps again.

"Stage two! Repeat, stage two, wild rat man! Donnie has been compromised!"

Casey pulls his wrist up to his face and leans in.

"What's going on out there?!"

"Donnie got pancaked by Splinter, he's quarantined now."

The boys hear a feral squeal over the comm lines, and both eyes go wide.

"S-S-Splinter-r-r?" Mikey asks.

"RUN!" a shout over the comms comes in. "Raph, this way, this way!!"

"W-w-ait, if Splinter's past the f-f-fever s-stage, then why is-s it still s-s-so c-c-c-cold-d-d???" Casey chatters.

"I told you, Donnie got quarantined! He hasn't rebooted the AC yet, and we're on a whole new system now so-- OH WAIT NO LOOK OUT!!"

There's a scuffle and a shuffle heard over the comms, and the two boys listen in intense silence. After a moment, Leo comes back onto the comms.

"Okay, we're good. Close call. How're you two holding up in there?"

"Cold," Mikey complains.

"We'll get to work on resetting the AC. Raph got Donnie's S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 to lead Splinter away for the moment... I think we're in the clear..."

Several minutes pass by. Mikey and Casey sit in the lab, cold and waiting. Ten minutes go by. Fifteen.

Mikey's body starts jerking, seizing, convulsing. The pain starts to set in, his body can't handle the low temperature. He gasps, a sharp stabbing sensation in his chest that aches and spreads across his body. He doubles over, clutching his chest with one hand and gripping the blankets with the other.

Casey pulls him closer. Mikey is pressed against his chest, he can CJ's his heart beating. He focuses on that.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Casey pulls the comms up again.

"Guys, what's the holdup? Mikey's starting to--"

The lights go out. The heater shuts down. The door hisses and a loud click echoes in the room. Mikey yelps and hugs Casey.

"That's... not good...."

The comms click.

"Ah! Ninja supreme! Stage four!!"

"What happened to stage three?!" Casey shouts. "What have you been doing this whole time?! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!"

"He's in the vents!" Raph shouts through the mic.

Mikey hears scratching and scurrying from above. Mikey makes a quick sound, a yelping chirp to warn Casey, before Splinter suddenly descends from the ceiling vents and lands with a smoke bomb on the floor. Mikey and Casey scramble in opposite directions.

The blankets fall off of Mikey's shoulders. He whines in pain, holding himself tight as the cold causes his body to go rigid like he's been frozen solid.

His tail jerks, curling around him in snapping movements, like he's a disc been scratched too many times and it keeps freezing and playing one moment at a time. It's agony, it's killing him, Mikey can't breathe anymore... his lungs feel like they're collapsing inside of him, his bones turn seize up and go stiff in place, his head is buzzing with pins and needles, and his limbs feel like freezer-burn.

Splinter -- in his full ninja garb -- crouches over Mikey and touches his shoulder, inspecting him. Mikey winces, the meager warmth from his father's hand burns against the ice that is his scaly skin. Casey shouts out Mikey's name, and Splinter dashes away into the darkness.

Casey rushes over to Mikey, checking him for injuries.

"Mikey? Mikey!! Michelangelo!! Oh no, oh no... can you hear me?"

Mikey tries to lift his head up to talk to him. He can barely move it, it feels stiff and it hurts to turn his neck. He manages to move his eyes to look up at Casey. He opens his mouth, trying to force out words, a croak, a whimper, anything. All he can manage is a ragged and laboured breath, a gasp for air as he writhes without moving.

"I'm gonna get the guys, I'm gonna get you warm, just stay with me!"

Mikey loses all feeling in his limbs. His tail stops moving. His torso goes numb before it too becomes lost in static. Mikey turns some kind of ghost, and nothing can touch him anymore, and nothing hurts anymore. His ears start ringing, a stuffy distortion that blocks out most sounds. Casey Jr. is two feet away from him, but his voice is far far away. Time slows down, an tormenting eternity that is all of three seconds long.

"Stay with me, Mikey! Stay... stay..."

Everything goes dark. Mikey's eyes slip shut.

He exhales softly.

He doesn't inhale.

.

.

.

"We have to find some way to keep him in line!" Dr. Timothy shouts. "Otherwise, he'll be running rampant throughout the labs!"

"Dr. Chaplin is working on a device that can control--"

"I know what he's working on, Abigail," he interrupts. "But that device won't be ready for quite some time, and we need something now!"

"Then, perhaps we turn to biology?" she offers.

"How do you mean?"

"This specimen has several different species genetic code integrated into his DNA. Perhaps we can find some weakness within the genetics to use against him, should the necessity arise."

"Hm... that could work. Nothing lethal, of course, just uncomfortable for him. Did you have anything specific in mind?"

Mikey watches from his cage as the two scientists look over a series of codes before turning back to look at him.

"Could work..." Timothy mumbles.

"We'll never know unless we try," Abigail replies.

Mikey watches as the two walk out for a moment before coming back in, wearing thick jackets. Timothy turns the air down. Mikey is confused until he starts to jerk slightly. What's... what's happening to him? Why does the air hurt?? Timothy watches him start to shiver and convulse.

"I was right," Dr. Abigail Finn says with a sly smile. "The three reptile DNA mixings have caused a severe reaction to brumation. His system goes into shock."

"Let's see how much he can handle," Timothy chuckles before grabbing a fire extinguisher and soaking Mikey in a cold foam.

"What are you doing?!" Abigail asks, moving away from him.

"Conducting an experiment, of course."

Mikey screams in pain before toppling over. It burns with how cold it is.

"We'll have to weaponize this," Dr. Timothy laughs. "Should be simple enough to concoct a device that can create cold gusts of air... I'll have Honeycutt get to work on the designs..."

Mikey shivers, drowning in the icy cold pain...

.

.

.

Mikey's consciousness slowly thaws. It's still dark... his body is still numb and lost... but there's... sound...

"...Mikey... poor guy... should be getting warmer..."

"...didn't mean to, I tried..."

"...not your fault, Pops, just what happens..."

"...should have done better... it's been hours... is he okay?"

"...brumation...body slows down... he'll be fine..."

"...getting a pulse, he's breathing again...!"

"Mikey? Can you hear us?"

Mikey moans, the first part of his body he can (sort of) control. He hasn't been this tired since... since... some time ago. The first mutation. Not that he really remembers much of it...

Mikey's eyes softly open. Light shines in. His whole family is here. Casey is here. Everyone is watching over him. When did they all get here? Where has Mikey been in this absence of consciousness?

Uggh, he feels awful.

Leo comes into view.

"Heyyyyyy, mi hermano. Can you hear me?"

Mikey nods weakly. At least, he thinks he does. He still can't sense much. The feeling comes in slowly, soft prickling and paresthesia. The first thing he feels is extreme heat and shaking. He's shivering. Still? But it's so hot...

Hot... but... he likes the warmth... so why is this unbearable?

Mikey moans again. His head is swimming. His breathing heavy, it's hard to get the air into his lungs. Mikey squirms, sweat breaking out across his brow and under his arms as he shakes.

"Mmnghh... Mikey no... feel... good..."

Leo presses the back of his hand against Mikey's head. It's not cold, but against the feverish heat emanating from Mikey, it's heavenly chilled. Leo winces, his brow furrows in concern.

"You're burning up... Dad, when you broke into Dee's lab, did you touch Mikey? Do you think you might have infected him?"

Splinter's eyes widen as he realizes.

"Oh... I think I might have..."

"So, is Mikey sick now?" Raph asks. "He's got rat flu, too?"

"Why is it just hitting him now, when he was infected hours ago?" Casey asks.

Hours...? Mikey's been a ghost for hours...?

"I'm guessing the brumation put Mikey's body into a sort of stasis. All body functions stopped until he thawed out," Donnie explains. "Brumation causes reptile like turtles, snakes, and lizards (all of which Mikey has the DNA of) to go into a sort of hibernation when it gets too cold. They slow down to an extreme, and might even stop breathing, but they won't die."

Mikey writhes on the bed. His tail thrashes, almost whipping Leo in the leg. Whatever is happening to him now, whether it's a side effect of brumation or whatever fever he caught from Splinter, he hates it.

Leo watches Mikey in concern.

"So, uh... no problem, no issue. We'll just take care of him while he gets over rat flu..."

"But who's gonna take care of him?" Raph asks.

"Uh...Donnie's the only one who got infected this year, and he already went through the symptoms, so he should be immune now..." Leo looks over to his twin. "Do you think you could play nursemaid?"

"You mean take over your job?" he asks snidely. "Of course. I mean, I've already lost a lot of work time on the anti-mutagen, so I might as well..."

Donnie sighs with exasperation as he taps his wrist tech, creating a checklist for the seven stages and supplies he'll need.

"Okay... so this will be interesting to see unfold. Stage 1 is fever, but Mikey's reaction to the low temperatures prohibits anything cold coming into contact with him. Any suggestions, Leo?"

"Give him lots of water, and ibuprofen. We can try to bring down his fever with warmer waters, but I'm not sure if that would help..."

"Copy that. Next stage is wild rat man... or in this case, wild Mikey. That should be fun," Donnie says, the last sentence a soft grumbling whisper. "With Mikey's animal instincts, everyone needs to be on alert. We don't know how he'll react..."

As Donnie continues to explain the seven stages again, Mikey lets himself crumble into a short-lived sleep while he waits for the rest of his body to wake up.

Stage 1: FEVER

Mikey hates this.

Every part of him aches, a dull but everlasting ache. He is constantly shifting between the heat of the sun and below freezing.

He can never get comfortable, he keeps kicking the blankets off as his fever causes delirium and slight nausea.

Donnie does what he can, having him drink as much water as possible while dabbing his face with a wet cloth. But it's all too cold, even if it's lukewarm. Against the burning inferno of his fever, it's practically glacial.

Mikey weeps at the torment his body is putting itself through. Donnie works in silence until Mikey makes some sort of rambling beg for him to talk so he knows that he's still in the room. Between the aches and the delerium, he can't always tell...

Donnie talks about his latest tech design. He talks about S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 and the upgrades he made in Mikey's absence. He talks about some of the studies he's been making into genetic mutations and modifications to the DNA and... he sounds upset. He stops talking about that and moves on to a new subject. He talks about botany or something.

Mikey groans in agony and mumbles something... not even he knows what he's saying... Donnie presses his hand to Mikey's sweat-soaked head. He grimaces at the wetness, but sighs with relief.

"I think your fever is starting to break... that's a good sign--"

"Gggggggrrrhhhh..."

"...Mikey?"

Mikey's eyes squeeze shut as he groans, grumbles, growls...

His eyes snap open, the pupils shrink into thin lines that immediately lock onto Donnie. He snarls, his teeth elongating into sharp fangs.

"...Oh banana pancakes," Donnie says flatly as he starts to get up.

Stage 2: FERAL MIKEY.

Leo and Raph are eating lunch with casey, having ordered a pizza and subs due to the day's earlier havoc. Leo plays with the pineapple and ham toppings as he frets over Mikey.

"Dude," Raph scolds, pointing at the slice going cold. "Just eat it already, or put it back in the box."

"Do you think he's doing okay?" Leo asks. "I mean, I know it's only a flu, but after everything that's happened to him already, I'm just worried what this will do to him, I mean, we have no idea how shot his immune system is already from his captivity and malnutrition, and then coupled with the mutations--"

"Leo," Raph says in between bites of his footlong. "You need to chill. I'm freaking out too, but that's not going to do any good. Donnie's got this for now, if he needs any help then he'll let us know--"

"HELP!!"

"...I think he just let us know."

The trio run out to find Dee being chased by a wild Mikey, his tail spiked and quills raised, his eyes glowing bright yellow with blood red as he chases after Donnie, snarling all along the way. Mikey slithers up the walls and ceiling, perching above them all, his head and neck twisting around as he watches them somewhat creepily.

"Oh dang," Leo says, pointing. "That's terrifying. I'm not alone on this, right? That's some 'The Ring' bone-cracking-bending-in-odd-ways type of scary?"

"Not the time, Nardo," Donnie grumbles.

"What's 'The Ring'?" Casey asks.

Mikey snarls loudly, analyzing who to attack first. His eyes stop on Raph and his sandwich.

"Uh-oh," the eldest whispers.

Mikey jumps down from the ceiling, roaring as he pounces down at his brothers. Raph shrieks in terror as he throws the sandwich at his feral brother. Mikey grabs the sub in his mouth and starts to attack it viciously, ripping it apart with his teeth and fangs, shaking it all around as he kills it dead.

"Uh, we start running now, right?" Casey asks.

"Yes. We run now."

The four make a mad dash down the hall, running into the garage and locking the door behind them.

"That... that was terrifying," Leo gasps. "I didn't know he could be that scary... was he like that when you found him?"

Leo turns to look at Raph and Donnie, who pant as they lean against the shell hogs for balance.

"Uh... more or less," Raph admits. "He was lucid when I found him, but once the other experiments were released he went kinda savage and attacked them to protect me."

"He also bit you."

Raph rubs over the spot on his wrist that Mikey punctured. It's healing fast, thanks to Draxum's genetic-whatever-he-did-to-them when they were babies. But the thought of Mikey's face when he came to and saw what he'd done... that hurt much more than any bite.

He hopes to pizza supreme that Mikey won't remember anything from the fever... poor kid probably couldn't handle it...

There's a pounding against the door.

"Agh!" Leo jumps as the loud noise echoes through the garage. "Don't let him in! The door's going to hold, right?"

"But of course!" Donnie says with a nervous chuckle. "I restructured everything after the invasion. Not even a krang could break down that door. The only thing that could get it open is --"

'Hamato Family Override Accepted,' a computer voice sounds.

"...is if someone with the code unlocks the door," Donnie moans.

The doors open slowly, revealing Splinter, standing in the doorway with an irritated expression on his face.

"Boys," he says in his scolding voice. "would you care to explain to me why you left your brother in the state he's in?"

"We had to!" Leo says, hiding behind Raph. "He was going to rip off an arm or something!"

"What are you talking about?" Splinter asks, stepping aside to reveal a very flushed Mikey with a sad expression on his face, eyes wet and pupils so wide they engulf the majority of his eyes.

Mikey sees his brothers and starts crying with joy as he rushes towards them, sloppily landing on Raph's feet and hugging his legs tightly.

"Rrrrraaaaappphiiieee!" he sings, rubbing his cheek against his big brother's ankles. "Miiikeeeeyyyy loveesss youuu..."

Stage 3: CAPTAIN CUDDLECAKES

Raph stares down in shock, frozen still for fear of what else Mikey might do. But Mikey just looks up and him with grabby hands as he cries for affection.

"Pickkkk me uuuup, Raphhiieee.... hold me, please, Raaaaaaphhie..."

"Uh... okay..." he says with hesitance, kneeling down and gently tucking his hands under Mikey's arms as he hoists him up.

Mikey's body is limp like a noodle, swaying back and forth as Raph holds him at arm's length. Mikey's face is bright red from fever, his smile dopey, his eyes half-opened and unfocused, his head lolls rom side to side. He giggles lazily, holding onto Raph's hands and slowly pulling himself closer to him, sort of crawling-slash-climbing across his arms to get to his chest.

"Raaaaaphieee.... I love Raphie... I loves him sooooooo muchesss..."

"Is... is he okay?" Leo asks, a quick giggle escaping him.

"Delirium," Donnie says knowingly with a nod. "He's delirious."

"Are you sure?" Casey asks.

"I'm an ice cream kitty," Mikey says dopily, giggling as he wraps himself over Raph's shoulders. "I'm a cat called Klunk..."

"Pretty sure," Donnie answers flatly.

"He's really cuddly," Raph chuckles, rubbing his hand over Mikey's burning head.

Mikey hums with contentment as he continues to wrap under Raphael's chin, back over the shoulders, and around his neck again...

"Uh, Mikey?" Raph gasps, as Mikey's torso and tail starting to tighten around his throat and choke him. "Mike-- that's too tight, buddy -- Mikey -- gack!!"

Donnie and Leo rush forward and try to loosen Mikey from around his brother. Mikey whines at them, tiredly slapping them away as he nuzzles Raph's face, which is starting to turn blue.

"Boa instincts," Donnie diagnoses as he tries to get Mikey to let go. "Come on, Michael, let go, let go, let -- nggh -- go!"

"Stahp pullin'!" Raph chokes out. "Gettin' tight--!"

"He won't release!" Donnie grumbles. "I don't think he understands what he's doing! It's his animal traits taking over..."

Leo's eyes brighten as he gets an idea. He starts scritching and scratching around Mikey's neck, looking for a specific spot. Mikey starts to giggle, shoulders hunching up and tail loosening. Leo gets to a spot just under the jaw on his right side and scratches. Mikey's eyes pop as he falls into Leo's hold with a mad cackle, legs kicking as he jerks back and forth from giggles. Raph gasps for air and collapses to his knees as he clutches his throat.

Mikey wiggles out of Leo's hold and onto the floor as he continues to laugh himself silly from the special spot Leo found.

"H-how... cough cough... how'd ya know that would work?" Raph hacks.

"I didn't," Leo confesses with a shrug. "I thought he'd faint like in 'How To Train Your Dragon' or something."

Mikey's laughter starts to calm, and he relaxes against the floor, deep sighs of relief as his brothers talk over him.

"I think it's safe to assume that his flu is causing his animal attributes to take over," Donnie informs. "Which isn't good news for the next stage..."

Stage 4: NINJA HUNTER SUPREME

"It's okay," Casey says, trying to calm the room. "I-I'm sure it will be fine, all we have to do is keep an eye on him aaaaaand we lost him," he groans, looking down to where Mikey had been a second ago.

"Alright, nobody panic! We're fine, we're fine, we're--"

"Achoo!" Raph sneezes.

"Welp, Raph's infected now, we need to quarantine him," Donnie groans. "Who could have seen this coming, he said sarcastically."

"I'm okay, I can just -- Achooie!"

"Yeah no," Leo scolds as he helps lead Raph to the door. "You're getting into bed. We're all sticking together too, so everyone be on the lookout for you-know-who..."

The group slowly but surely trudge towards the traincars on the other side of the lair, stopping at every doorway to inspect the rooms for Mikey. He's nowhere to be seen... and that's terrifying.

Just before they get to Raph's room, Donnie's wrist tech beeps at him. One of the motion sensors has gone off.

"Wait a sec," Donnie whispers, tapping the security footage. "I think Mikey might be in the sewer tunnels..."

"What?" Leo whispers back. "Why would he go all the way out there?"

"I'm not sure, but if he gets lost --"

"I'll go after him," Leo answers. "You guys watch Raph and help quarantine him for now before the fever sets in too bad."

Leon grabs his swords and runs to the exits. Casey watches him nervously as he helps Donnie maneuver the former leader into his bedroom as the fever starts to take effect.

As soon as Leo gets to the tunnels, he gets the eerie feeling he's being watched. He's not sure where the sensation is coming from, but three years of being a ninja vigilante and 16 years of living in secrecy under the surface of the greatest city ever has trained him to hone in on these gut feelings and sixth senses. There is someone... or something watching him.

It's unnerving.

He steps into the tunnels and looks both ways. No sign of Mikey. He takes out his comm and leans into the speaker to whisper.

"Hey Don, which way did he go?"

"*Krrsh* I don't know, I didn't see on the recording. I just saw a notif that something set off the perimeter alert. Over. *Krsh*"

Leo doesn't like this. Maybe Mikey never actually left the lair. Maybe this was all... a trap.

Leo's ninja senses tell him to be careful. He turns around quickly and looks up. Mikey is staring down at him from the ceiling.

He drops down like a spider, crashing down onto Leo, who shouts in terror as he opens a portal just beneath his feet. The two fall through, one after the other. Leo portals them back to the traincars, shouting for backup as he runs away while Mikey regains his footing and inspects the new area.

"FOUND HIM! I FOUND HIM! HELP!"

Casey and Donnie jump into the hall quickly, brandishing weapons on instinct.

Leo frantically scrapes his katanas across the floor as he runs away, creating a series of portals that surround Mikey. The feral mutant boy falls through one and pops out in a random place, three other portals boxing him in.

"There," Leon pants. "That should keep him busy for now..."

Mikey sniffs one of the portals, and his eyes widen. He steps through, following his nose and navigating perfectly through each portal, gaining speed with every step until he arrives from behind the trapped trio.

"Or not..." Leo swallows.

Mikey growls, licking his teeth as he stalks them, getting ready to leap in three... two... one...

Mikey pounces on Leo, gripping the handle of one katana between his set jaws and yanking it out of Leo's grip. He clutches onto his brother's shoulders, pinning him down as he tries to rip the second sword away.

"AAGH!!!" Leo screams, kicking wildly as Mikey snarls and drools all over him and his weapon. "GET IT OFF! GET THIS THING OFF OF ME--!!"

Donnie activates his hover-shell and directs it to attach to Mikey, lifting him up and carrying him away. But Mikey still clings tightly to Leo, who is struggling against his brother's death grip on his shoulders. Mikey's nails dig in tight, making Leo cry out in pain.

Casey jumps up and catches on Leo's feet, pulling him loose from Mikey's hold. Mikey is flown away, screeching in anger as the hover-shell turns a corner and disappears with its passenger.

"Sensei-- Leo, are you okay?" Casey asks, eyeing the claw marks with concern.

"I-I'm f-fine," Leo manages, his breath shaky and eyes wide but lost. "I... I'll be okay... I... achoo!"

"Welp, we've lost another brother," Donnie sighs as he carries Leo to his room. "I estimate that we have at least five more minutes before Mikey comes back in a new stage. Casey, you go to my lab and lock yourself in there. Reboot the security system and put the whole lair on a lockdown. We can't risk Mikey escaping, got it?"

Casey nods nervously before rushing away.

Donnie helps Leo get into bed as the fever already starts to set in.

"H-he... he really got me, huh...? Woof, why is it so hot in here???" Leo mumbles as he topples into the bed. "Why is the room spinning so much?? I don't remember booking tickets to the tilt-n'-whirl..."

"I'll get the fan going for you," Donnie mutters.

"I... I feel bad..."

"You'll feel better in a minute--"

"I called him a thing."

Donnie pauses as he looks back at Leo, who's starting to cry softly as he hugs his pillow.

"I was just scared. I'd never seen him so angry or vicious. Not even against the krang... he looked like he really was gonna kill me..."

"He wouldn't," Donnie reassures him flatly. "Mikey would never do that."

"Do you think he hates me now?" Leo whimpers. "Do you think he heard me? He'll remember that? I don't actually think of him like that, I... I don't think he's a monster, I don't... gawd, why is it so hot in here?!"

Donnie rolls his eyes as he plugs in the high-speed fan and aims it at Leo. He sighs with relief from the cold winds blowing in his face.

"We can talk about it later. Right now I have to find Mikey."

Leo hums as he falls asleep on the bed.

Donnie runs back out, closes the door to the traincar, and rounds the corner into the hallway beyond... where he finds the smashed remains of his hover-shell, and no Mikey.

Fantastic.

Stage 5: KARAOKE LOVE SONGS

Donnie can hear Mikey singing loudly. But not in English. He's howling and yowling and chirping some incoherent animal gibberish in the TV room. Splinter probably left one of his old romance soap operas on, and somebody must've busted out into a love ballad.

Donine steps closer to watch him and surveil. The noise could damage his ears with how loud and high-pitched it gets, but at least Mikey's pacified. For the moment.

Donnie messages Casey from his wrist tech; he doesn't expect that he could hear him if he tried the comms.

D: HOW'S IT GOING IN THERE?

CJ: PRETTY GOOD. ALL EXITS SECURED.

D: GREAT. MIKEY IS... SINGING (QUESTION MARK?)

CJ: LOL DOES IT SOUND THAT BAD?

D: I WOULDN'T KNOW, MY HEARING IS PERMANENTLY DAMAGED NOW.

Dee turns back to smile at Mikey, who's howling has softened and slowed to simple hums. He scratches behind his ears with his foot before getting up and dizzily trotting back to his traincar bedroom. Donnie follows from behind, staying quiet as he can. He's not sure what the next stage will do to Mikey's animal brain...

Michelangelo starts looking around his room, coughing every once in a while and sneezing on occasion before finding a large roll of paper that April dropped off some time ago. Mikey knocks it down and rolls it out, carefully setting the paints out as well. That's when he sees Donnie.

He smiles weakly and ushers him in with a soft yawn turned cough.

Donnie walks in and sits beside his brother, helping to open the jars as Mikey starts to draw images...

Stage 6: STORYTIME

Stage six is fanfiction, Donnie knows this. But for some reason, Mikey isn't making fanart or comics of his favourite characters. Donnie wonders why... he maybe doesn't recall them...? He only just remembered Lou Jitsu a few days ago, so it's not out of the question. Donnie's stomach turns when he considers that Mikey not remember that their father was Lou Jitsu...

But he's definitely drawing something. His hands still shake, and he tears the paper every other stroke, but he's making a story to tell with his art. Mikey uses his tail as a paintbrush, gentle but sloppy strokes. It's easier than finger-painting with claws. Donnie sees images of a green thing with yellow spots in a cage... needles and crude doodles of knives and pink monsters... humans in white that kick and hit and zap and freeze the poor green and yellow figure... It doesn't take long for Donnie to realize what story he's telling.

The poor green and yellow thing is crying in his cage. It almost looks like... he's waiting for something...

Then Donnie sees a purple figure. A blue one. Red.

It's them.

But Mikey omits an orange companion. Donnie points this out.

"Why didn't you draw yourself?" he asks.

Mikey looks up at him with concern, and for a moment he's worried he broke Mikey's oh-so-sensitive concentration. But instead he shakily dips his tail in the orange paint and... stalls...

The paint drips onto the paper while they wait for Mikey to make his artwork. But he doesn't.

"Do you... need some help?"

Mikey nods with a sniffle. Dee chalks that up to a runny and stuffy nose. Same with the gloopy eyes that hold tears in them, that's just some kind of irritation or fever. Not the other, more difficult thing -- emotions.

Donnie reaches over and takes his brother's tail, helping Mikey draw a stick figure with round cheeks and a mask with a bow. Mikey leans down to stare at the drawing, analyzing it with astonishment.

Why does he look at it like that? Why is he so surprised by his own image? Why doesn't he... recognize...

Mikey's eyes glaze over, as he slowly sits back up and exhales. Mikey's vision is far away, lost in thought.

Stage 7: MUST SAY YES

Donnie waves a hand in front of Mikey's face. No reaction. Donnie sighs.

"Mikey?"

Mikey turns his head to look at Donnie with a quiet mew.

"I know you'll say 'yes' to anything I ask for. So, I want you to..."

He wants Mikey to tell him why he didn't draw himself. Why he reacts the way he does when they leave him alone. Why he is so scared of Casey and April, why he didn't remember their names or Lou Jitsu or anything. Why he has a voice in his head, and what the voice tells him. He wants to ask for him to get better and get back to normal as quickly as possible. He wants to ask him to be his same old Mikey self again.

Donnie sighs.

"...I want you to get some rest and heal up. Okay, buddy?"

Mikey gives a weak smile before closing his eyes and flopping against Dee's chest, wheezing with each breath he makes. Donnie rolls his eyes and lifts his congested baby brother up into the hammock bed, tucking him in and making sure that he's nice and warm.

He steps out of the traincar after turning off the lights. He's utterly spent, he might try taking a nap too...

Until Casey runs up to him, a worried expression on his face.

"Donatello! Donatello!"

"Shh!" he shushes quickly, signing that Mikey is fast asleep and resting. "What is it?"

"I was reviewing security footage in the labs, and saw that Mikey never went outside the tunnels..."

"What? But the sensors --"

"Sensed something, yeah, so I went back and looked for what it was. I found this hiding outside the entrance to the lair," he says, reaching into one of his fanny packs.

Casey pulls out a mediocre miniature drone, complete with camera and microphone. The device is no better than scrap metal now, having been partially destroyed by Casey's weaponized hockey stick.

"It may have taken me by surprise..."

Donnie stares down at it. There's a small logo printed on the side with the initials EPF.

"...How long has it been here?"

"We got the alert around... maybe fifteen minutes ago?"

"Are there any more?" Dee asks, his tone low and frightfully serious.

"I don't know," Casey answers. "But I can do a perimeter sweep."

"Good idea," Donnie says, rushing away. "I'm going to create an invisible fence around the lair that knocks out any unrecognized tech. Then, I'm going to see how damaged this scrapheap is. If the receptor and signal output are still intact... maybe I can find out what our friends at the EPF are up to."

.

.

.

Dr. Timothy stares down at the wretched mutated human in a cage, wearing a torn and tattered uniform.

What a disgusting failure.

His face is misshapen and bearing three eyes, his arms (one of which is scarred from talon gashes and bite marks) are covered in fur, his hands are like bear claws and his feet are webbed. He is an amalgamation of random things, and now he's in the cage that belonged previously to 'Mikey'.

Timothy scowls at the mutation. It was a wild test, anyways. Nothing important. Just to see what would happen... Honestly, it was more as a punishment for damaging Mikey's brain than an actual scientific pursuit. And it's not like anyone will miss him; he was nothing important, anyways...

Nothing is important. Nothing matters now. Nothing but finding that one experiment again. The only successful mutation... Mikey.

The man in the cage whines at Dr. Timothy. He cannot speak anymore. Nothing more than a dumb animal. Which, from the intelligence he showed before mutation, is quite possibly an improvement.

Timothy kicks the cage in frustration. The man yipes and backs away, whinging like a dog.

What to do, what to do...

None of the mutations have worked right. None of them show any signs of increased intelligence. It seems the opposite, their minds decrease and their problem-solving skills evaporate. The physical toll on their bodies is heavy, and some never even survive the first round of mutation. None of them can take orders. None of them can fight with complexity and agility. None of them can be trained. None of them can understand basic commands or words or anything of the English language, or any language. They're all just stupid, dumb animals! None of them have had the success rate that Mikey did. Why? What about him was so special??

He was already mutated...

There are a handful of mutated freaks out there now, running amok and wreaking havoc. How were they changed? Why has it worked with them? What could have possibly done it for them, and why can't they recreate this phenomenon?!

Dr. Timothy has always been interested in mutations and enhancements. This reason is why he joined the science division of the EPF. He knows most of the scientists here are working to save the alien-infected citizens. And Tim is all for that! Why not help humanity? But why stop at simple cures, why not go bigger? There are some freaks running amok in the streets, a result of odd glowing bugs released upon the masses almost three years ago. These mutations have made the humans stronger, faster, better. They can withstand almost anything! They are practically indestructible! These idiots think that saving humanity means eradicating the mutants. They couldn't be more wrong.

It's the humans who need to be... shall we say, updated?

What a weak and pathetic species. Slow, soft, squishy and easily injured. Bruisable. Breakable. Like putty.

But add some extra features and a killer instinct... and you've got yourselves a prime class of creatures that can stand tall for centuries!

Why not be better? Why not be stronger?! Why can't they see that?!

Timothy wrings his hands through his hair, growling at the unfairness of the situation. If only he could get his hands on that mutie again... if only he could have Mikey back.

That is the only thing that matters to him now.

Getting that mutant turtle back.

It's all he thinks about. The good news is that they've sent spy drones into the tunnels and seem to have gotten some interesting footage before mysteriously going dead... Timothy is having another wave sent in within the next three days, max.

The others may have seen his passion for the science, but this is different. This is mania. This is an obsession...

Timothy will do whatever it takes to get that mutant turtle back into his possession, and figure out how he survived the mutations.

And then...

He will become the better man. The better, more dominant species.

The better mutant.

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